A Wife Loved Like The Church

This life is not my own

Posted on: January 3, 2007

Jonathan and I attended Faithwalkers this past week (December 27-31) in Osage Beach, Missouri. This is an event that happens annually in our church, and was the second one that Jonathan and I attended. Last year’s was moving, and by the end of the week, I could really see where God had grown me in my faith.

This year was not the same. My heart, while yearning for something, felt heavy and sorrowful. Every session found me praying that I would get some amazing nugget of truth to carry me through the year. And every session seemed to disappoint me. Don’t get me wrong, it was a wonderful time, filled with amazing worship and amazing lessons from men who have proven to be faithwalkers. But each time I left feeling dry, and numb.

The last session was taught by Mark Darling and was about God being your refuge. Throughout his whole lesson, Mark was real, raw and brutely truthful. I hated it. I kept thinking “Why on earth would you ever want to tell 1800 people you’re losing your mind?” As he continued to talk, my heart hardened. I didn’t feel like I needed to hear this, since I knew I had God as my refuge. Sure, I might not be crying out to Him, but still, things were under control. Shoot, this is me we’re talking about, things are always under control.

At the end, Mark suggested that we get by ourselves and cry out to God. I went back to my room, grabbed my Harry Potter book and settled in for a nice relaxing evening. But there was something tugging on my heart. I had this feeling that maybe, just maybe, I didn’t have God as my refuge. Perhaps I really did rely on myself, or Jonathan, for comfort and not God. So, I thought I should get real with God.

I went down by the lake, and sat there for what seemed a lifetime. I couldn’t speak. My heart was so heavy, but yet I couldn’t even form words to say to God. The only thing I knew to do was write. And once I started, it was hard to stop. I yelled, I screamed, I cursed. Finally, I cried. I cried out and ask God why life felt so hard. Why things happen, that should never happen. I wondered where He had gone, and why He wasn’t there to comfort me. My heart was breaking, and it felt as though My LORD was no where in sight.

I went back to my room, tears still staining my face. Things are different. Not really good, but different. I’m struggling to understand who God is as my refuge. What it means to truly cry out to Him. The past three or four days have been a huge challenge. I’m feeling attacked from every side. I’ve cried more since Friday night, then I have in years. But last night, I did something that I haven’t done in years.

I came home, after learning some heartbreaking news, and went immediately to God. I can’t do this on my own. Jonathan can’t help me. My friends can’t help me. I can’t help myself. I have to be broken before I can be fixed. And God is allowing me to break. But all the while, He is right here, standing as my refuge.

Here are some verses that I have found in the last few days-
Nahum 1:7 “The LORD is good, a refuge in times of trouble. He cares for those who trust in him.”

Psalm 2:12 “Blessed are all who take refuge in him.”

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