I revisited my blog for one purpose, to help me heal. I started out strong with two posts already thought out as I sat down at my computer almost two months ago. With a third post done just shy of two weeks after my initial post, I was on a roll. Then something happened, it just stopped. I am now writing my fourth post a little over a month later. What happened?
Within the last month, I started noticing something. I was becoming distant. Its like I could see and hear what was going on in the lives of loved ones around me, but I just couldn’t break through this invisible barrier that kept me from experiencing it with them. I noticed it even more so with God. Why couldn’t I get to Jesus?
My daughter learned about the prodigal son in chapel yesterday. We were talking about the story in the car with her on the way to Costco this morning. She told Jason and I that the daddy forgave his son and gave him a big hug when he came home. She assumed that the story meant that her daddy (and mommy) would do the same for her. I assured her we would and then I asked her if she knew that the story she heard was true about God, too. Her response was to tell me that God was up too high to give her a hug and that he would need to come down. Her daddy and I smiled and then she said something that only a child would say. “Maybe I could go visit Jake and the Neverland Pirates and get some pixie dust! Then I could fly up there to God and he can give me a hug.” I hope my daughter never loses that sense of wonder and her childlike faith.
So, why couldn’t I just grab some pixie dust and fly up to Jesus? During communion at church this weekend I just wanted an answer. I prayed out of an honest (somewhat frustrated) heart. Lord, why can’t I reach you? When I pray, my mind wonders and it won’t stop. I can’t connect. I need your help. Why? Then it hit me. He answered my frustrated heart. I was scared. I was scared of being hurt, of being let down. I had put a wall of protection up around my heart instead of trusting in His protection. I let doubt and fear creep in. I had allowed the thought of never being able to have kids again sink into my heart and I put walls up so that when the bad news came, I would be ready for it.
I knew He was right. I knew what I had done. I knew what had caused the distance, the invisible barrier. I was overcome with emotions and I found myself praying one simple prayer. Jesus, please, break down the wall.
My thoughts then turned to a note my Aunt had sent me. I am part of her Babyline ministry. She sends out notes of encouragement to women dealing with infertility and miscarriages, as well as support for those who are pregnant or have just had a baby. Her note read like this:
I mailed out a Babyline note shortly before you discovered that you had a tubal pregnancy. The secretary at my church called to let me know that my letter had been returned. It made me cry that God is so protective of you that He (I believe) caused me to mess up on the address, so that a note celebrating your little one would not cause you more pain.
God reminded me in that moment that He is my protector. That I’m not going through this alone and that I need to trust Him with my heart. I don’t need to rely on my own strength to get through this, which is exactly what I was doing. I can lean into Him, rely on His strength, His protection, for whatever comes my way, good or bad.
“The Lord is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer, my God, my rock, in whom I take refuge.” Psalm 18:2