Chapter 3

Back to the Sale

This passionate new found friend told me that the workshop started the very next weekend in a place 30 minutes away from me. I just knew I was supposed to be there. I called and the secretary told me that the workshop was full. I told her I KNEW I was supposed to be there. She offered to put my name on a waiting list but gave a disclaimer with that, because there were 30 people on the waiting list in front of me. I didn't really matter to me, I knew I would get in the workshop. I secured babysitting, held my breath and told my husband who was completely not for it, that I was going. Thankfully, I have the sweetest friends in the world and one of those sweetest friends came and stayed at my house to watch my girls while he worked.

I spent the day before I was supposed to go to the workshop at the doctors. The doctor fleetingly gave me some ulcer prescription samples on the way out of the office door and as sort of last attempt, since they had no idea what was wrong with me, suggested that I give them a try. I intended on going home and was counting on a miracle. I couldn't even function and could barely shuffle into the office and all I really wanted to do was to sleep. I laid on my couch and got the phone call. I was accepted into the workshop and was there anyone else I knew that was interested in coming. My sister was sitting across from me and gladly accepted and just like that, we embarked on the greatest adventure of my life.

As if it were meant to be, the ulcer medicine I had started to take seemed to kick in almost immediately. I sat up on the couch, could feel the color back in my cheeks and knew I was going to make it.

The next day I walked into a waiting room full of people and felt secure. I knew this was a God-ordained event in my life and I was confident that He had things all worked out for me. From the very first song and the very first introduction, I felt my heart begin to beat out of my chest. I could hear it thumping. I had no idea there was a place like this. A place where people could be real, could share their hearts for real. It was unreal. There were people surrounding the room. All of whom were so incredibly compassionate and caring. I knew I wanted to be one of those people (the helpers) but for now, I was going to focus on me.

Boy, was that more difficult than I had planned on.

I realized that in all of the time that I had spent listening, I had not allowed myself to talk, to really talk to anyone. I hadn't talked about the depression, hurt and utter remorse I was feeling about my life.

I began to let them use a crow bar and try to crack open the locks that were securely placed on my heart. I made the greatest discovery. I was such a good girl. I did everything right. I dressed the right part, talked the right part, but I absolutely was so incredibly mad at my Creator. I mean I think hated would be an appropriate word. You see, I had miscarried. Not once, but twice and the second one, it sent me really reeling. I was mad at God for taking that one. I felt like I had done everything right in life and He didn't keep up His "end of the bargain." I had heard the message preached in our churches to do right and you will "be blessed." This wasn't working for me. I had a failing marriage, a daughter who I couldn't figure out and He had taken my baby from me. Where was the good in that? To hear the sound of those words squeeze out of my mouth felt like the ultimate betrayal to my faith, to the church I was raised in and to my life.

This was what my life was all about, I had lived my life for God and here I sat, angry, mad and hurt and it was all pointed in His direction.

It was the most beautiful place for me to start.

I sat there and poured my heart out and nobody gasped, nobody was disturbed, nobody labelled me as a rebel or a failure, instead...they were the hands and feet of Jesus Christ. They listened and loved and gently took my hand and guided me out of that dark, hellish place. I absolutely flew out of that place that weekend. I mean FLEW. I was soaring. One lady had said that weekend, that she pictured me as a butterfly on a beautiful path but one wing was broken and I couldn't fly. Another lady said that she pictured me as a beautiful ballerina dancer that had been sat in the corner and told not to dance. Yet another said that I was a beautiful painting with all of the vibrant colors missing. Those things completely broke who I was pretending to be. I had gone there with thoughts of people judging me, like one college mentor who said, you need to smile more, you just don't smile enough and people think you're unfriendly. Instead of that, they saw through my smile, into my eyes and then into the depths of my soul. They could see the deep sadness that I thought I was hiding and that meant that others could see it too. I was done pretending.

So, I began the process of digging out the bad and gorging on the good. I felt the love of Jesus Christ fill my heart in such a way that I had never felt before. I was overflowing with the goodness and literal saving grace of Jesus and I would truly never be the same again.

This isn't where the story ends, this is just the beginning. I went home to find that I had an enemy. And that enemy wasn't interested in me having this new found freedom and I was going to be challenged every step of the way, but that was okay, I had found something greater, Some One greater and His name was Jesus and greater still,

He had enraptured my heart.