He has a mess of reading material on a table in there. In the moments where I am waiting for my time with him I pop in to shuffle through the stacks to see what gems lie there. The last two sessions, I've stumbled upon a passage that was *right* where I was in this journey.
Yesterday, it was "good old Fred" , Frederic Buechner's book called The Magnificent Defeat that I picked up. I flipped through and the heading "The Two Battles in the section entitled "The Challenge To Surrender" caught my eye.
Fred spoke of and brought to light the battle I've been having with God to let "my" life work out the way I thought it should. I felt entitled to having a sweet marriage, bearing or adopting children and raising them with my husband. It was, in my mind, the only way that Abba could fulfill all the desires of my heart after I sought him. I would sing "No one but you Lord, can fill the deepest longings of my heart" , mean it, and yet wait for him to do his part. I had it all wrong - even while knowing truth that my deepest desire was supposed to be Him. All this time, I've been seeking Him as though He were my middle man, my supplier.
The night before last, I read in Crabb's book Shattered Dreams, the chapter entitled "Desire or Addiction?" and realized my addiction to my way of living, my plan. I was missing my pets: My Harris Teeter, my husband, my normal way of relating to people, my ______ .
Crabb said "Sam saw his resolve as godly determination. I saw it as IDOLATRY, as an addiction to a lesser desire. He had not yet discovered the quiet place in the center of his soul where *all* he wants is God." (emphasis, mine)
As I was leaving, I asked for homework. I'm a teacher, it makes sense. My counselor suggested I get a book called Aftermath that helps people with PTSD. I winced. He noticed. I don't wear my heart on my sleeve...it takes over my whole outfit. That wince was like the other shoe dropping for me. When I asked "Are you saying that I have PTSD?", and he exclaimed "How could you not??", it all made sense.
I've always been so good at handling adversity. It was my role as a little girl in a violent household to be the "trouper". Some very *hard* things have come into my life, and I've dealt with them. I used to get giddy with excitement waiting to see how God is going to work things out. Maybe because the praise I so desperately longed for came when I played the role of the "trouper". I chalked it up to faith and trust in Abba's redemptive work in my life. True, there is a bit of that in my joy. But, in that simple, almost afterthought, reading suggestion, he was saying that I failed at being a "trouper"- that what happened with my Nabel was too much for me too handle. Somehow that made it okay for me, and everything clicked.
Finally, my heart is broken in such a way that I can't be a "trouper". I am shattered, and the pervasive sorrow that has followed, even plagued me, makes sense. Thank you Abba for removing the life sucking leech that used to look like a helpful soldier wannabe.
This morning, for the first time in as long as I can remember I woke up with a little energy to move forward. You know the trigger on a push mower that makes it easier to push? I feel as if that trigger is engaged. I don't feel like I'm fighting against quick sand or holed up in a trench covering my head afraid to come out.
The song that has been playing in my mind as I have been typing out my thoughts is Misty Edward's "Finally I Surrender". http://youtu.be/AHdEK2rpW3s
Do you also have a new or remembered truth in your life that you are surrendering to?
