Day Two - Time

^“But I trust in you, O LORD; 

       I say, "You are my God."

My times are in your hands; 

       deliver me from my enemies 

       and from those who pursue me.

Let your face shine on your servant; 

       save me in your unfailing love.” Psalm 31:14-16 

     As a Christian, what does it mean that my times are in God’s hands? It means that every year, month, week, day, hour, and moment belong to Him. It means He is in control of life. It means not a moment passes that He isn't aware of us and where we are and what we are doing.

     Are we being tempted and chased by sin? He knows. Are we suffering in silence? He knows. Are our days without hope and interminable? He knows. If we awoke with a smile and a prayer, He knows. If we awoke and can’t figure out how to put our feet to the floor, He knows. Our times are His.

     This Psalm says to trust God with your times, with your days, with your circumstances--good or bad. It says: I trust God. I believe God. I know you will save me from the dark days, long cold nights, and weary body, soul and mind. This Psalm calls upon God and his unfailing love. He will answer, in His time.

Practical steps: Post verse 14 where you can see it throughout the day. Repeat it to yourself in the moments of emotional turmoil. I trust in you God. Be with me.

Your thoughts: _________________________________________________

“I was afraid and thought that he had driven me out of his presence. But he heard my cry, when I called to him for help.” Psalm 31:22 GNB

Day One -- Time

Time 

^“Then the LORD said, "I will surely return to you about this time next year, and Sarah your wife will have a son." Gen 18:10 NIV

     I loved being pregnant. I loved the stretchy clothes, eating six times a day, and watching my stomach grow. I was fascinated at the whole process, and read all kinds of books. The ultrasound pictures of what my daughter, Erin, looked like at twelve weeks and twenty weeks were amazing to me.

     But time seemed to pass slower and slower the closer I got to my delivery date. I was huge, and was only comfortable in one pink sweat suit and one ugly striped flannel gown. It was TIME for this kid to be born. So why does it take forty weeks to make a baby? God had a plan. I’m sure of it. Maybe because I needed time to adjust to my changing emotions, changing girth, or changing hormones. Maybe I needed time to change the priorities in my life because I was going to be someone’s mama.

     Whatever the reason, time is a necessary element in the procreation and birthing a family process. Time to paint, prepare a room, have baby showers, and stock up on diapers. Though sometimes the days pass slowly and our feet swell, the day when the baby is ready does come. We must wait. Waiting is never easy. Whether we are waiting for a child to be born or to heal from a heart-sickness or a physical healing. It just isn't easy. But it can be done.

                     Practical steps 

     Cultivate a day by day attitude and accept each day’s challenges and blessings. Know that each day brings you closer to healing; each step through the valley, each day’s travel brings you that much closer to reaching the other side.

Your thoughts: _________________________________________________

“and she became pregnant and bore a son to Abraham when he was old. The boy was born at the time God had said he would be born.” Gen 21:2 GNB

Time or No One Wants to Hear it

WEEK ONE

“There is a time for everything,

And a season for every activity under heaven.”  Ecc 3:1 NIV

    I lived through a season of divorce. Its climate was quite variable and unpredictable. Hot angry nights followed cold autopilot days. Then the never-ending tears of days were interspersed with brief moments of sun. There were quite a few grey overcast days but sometimes storms of emotions popped up unexpectedly. Drought and downpours were not uncommon.

    None of the above is pleasant, but it can be survived. God’s word says there is a time for everything. I remember reading this and thinking, “Even divorce?” Time to weep, that scripture made sense to me. Time to mourn definitely fit my situation. But where was time to divorce? It’s time itself that is necessary. It’s the only constant predictable cure that I have found and experienced first hand.

    I know you don’t want to hear this. I didn't either. I wanted it over, done, finished and to move forward. But time was what was needed to heal my heart, the distrust I felt towards everyone, and what allowed the pain to reside.

    Time allowed distance to dull the ache and gain perspective. Time sharpened hindsight. Time allowed and inspired growth, change, and the act of being still. (“Be still and know that I am God,” from Psalms 46:10 became my mantra.) Time allows you to draw near to God and invites God to carry you over those dangerous cracks in your life foundation, while providing soothing words that mend those same cracks.

    I wanted to be well quickly. I wanted to get on with it, start over, stop wasting time--which is how I perceived the last two years of my marriage. I tried desperately to be the wife he wanted, the wife God expected, and a good mom too. I prayed, read the books, and saw two counselors to try and figure out what was wrong with me. I begged God to restore, recreate, renew my marriage, but it was not to be. So, let me be done with this.  I was exhausted. Mentally. Physically. Spiritually. Emotionally. 

    Mentally, I had been to see two counselors.

    Physically, I suffered through humiliating tests to see why my body was having pains and sleeplessness, to be told it was the stress of my marriage. The symptoms were real, but the cause was anxiety.

    Spiritually, I believed God had abandoned me. I believed the rules applied to everyone but me. Either God simply did not love me or the “rules” about being a good wife--good housekeeper, bookkeeper, caregiver, help mate, companion, kind and generous—did not work.

    Emotionally, I felt rejected on all levels. The man who had lived with me for twenty years had walked away. He did not love me. If I was not worthy of his love--the person who should know me best--then would anyone ever love me? I shut down emotionally for a very long time.

    I am happy to report all of the above has changed for the better. Time, sweet time, was the needed cure. Time to heal on all levels with the help of God, sweet Jesus, and dear friends.

A New Direction for this Fearles Heart

THROUGH THE VALLEY OF DIVORCE

Introduction

     God laid the desire to write this book on my heart as I emerged out of the valley of divorce, holding tightly to His hand two years ago. There are scars, but the wounds have mostly healed. My heart was battered, but not crushed. There were days I knew without a doubt that I would not make it another hour, yet here I sit writing this to you.

     Two of the hardest elements to handle in the whole divorce situation were the isolation I felt and the slow passage of time. I truly believed no one could understand, nor could even relate to my anger, hurt and sense of abandonment. I was so alone and so lonely, and I couldn’t have survived without my friends. Even when I pushed them away, God sent them back to me. God sent them to listen, to hold me up, to cry with me and to even laugh on occasion.

     There were so many days when I survived purely hour by hour, the passage of time amplified by my chaotic emotions, physical stresses, and mental disillusionment. I didn’t believe the counselor who told me to give myself time, or the books I read that said the same thing, or the cliché that “time heals all wounds”.  What I believed was what my senses were telling me: I could not survive this madness even one more hour. Yet, I did. Time, sweet time, has passed and the madness has gone.

     My faith had been a strong vital presence in my life for more than ten years, and especially the last few years before my divorce. The divorce shattered that faith. Where was God? How could He let this happen? The divorce process made me feel like I had been kicked in the chest with a soccer ball. Losing my faith was like that soccer ball becoming embedded and refusing to let me breath.

     I would like to share with you my journey through the valley of divorce.

     The joke goes: A man fell down a manhole and couldn’t get out.  A priest walks by and the man calls out “Father, can you help me out?”  The priest says a prayer and walks on. A doctor walks by and the man calls out again, “Hey Doc, can you help me out of this hole?” The doctor writes a prescription and tosses it in the hole. Then a friend walks by, “Hey Joe, can you help me out of this hole?” Joe jumps in the hole. “Man, why did you do that? Now we are both stuck down here. Joe smiles and says, “Yes, but I’ve been down here before and I know the way out.”

     Hopefully God will use me to point the way for you.