What to do when life completely overwhelms you

I must preface this post with a disclaimer.  This incident actually happened to me months ago, and I was so struck by God's message for me that I wrote it down instant it happened - I was in my car at the time (I pulled into a parking lot before I wrote it down).  I then left the paper in my car to remind me of this message; however, the nugget of wisdom soon found its way into the soccer ball/fast food wrappers/spare socks flotsam and jetsam that is my minivan. I forgot about it until a few days ago when I stumbled upon it while cleaning out my car.  Not only was God's message just as powerful as it was in July, but it seemed He purposely hid the scrap of paper in my car for "such a time as this".  Here's the story:

I was running errands in Norman last July during the period of monsoon rain that left the metro area flooded.  I was grumpy because I hate to drive in the rain, and I was visiting my attorney.  Double whammy.  However, I needed to stop by the bank first.  I stopped at a red light on Main street, and orange construction signs glared through the rain mist and stared at me from across the intersection.  As soon as I crossed the intersection, my lane was going to close and I would have to merge left (not an easy feat to do in Norman in the rain).  I fretted for the duration of the red light on how to merge to the left, inwardly griping about my bad luck.  The light turned green and I started to move.  I turned on my left turn signal blinker hoping to catch the sympathy of the cars beside me when something caught the corner of my eye - my bank.  I was so distracted by the construction signs and so worried about how to change lanes, I failed to notice that the bank was right beside me.  I didn't have to merge left at all; I just had to turn right.  It struck me then and there that I focus much of my energy on the orange construction signs of life.  I fret and worry about obstacles that I may never have to face, and ignore the blessings that may be right beside me.  I find that if I just keep my eyes on God, He is more than capable of navigating me through the road construction in my life.

When I found this paper again, I was feeling exhaustingly overwhelmed.  Between teaching high school five days a week, teaching college one night week, and being a mom 24/7, I felt like I was drowning in an ocean with nothing to hold onto but an anchor.  My own story reminded me not to worry about the future because it is God's control.  "Give us THIS day our daily bread".  And I remember to slow down, breathe, and take this journey one day at a time.

How many times do you pray?

I pondered this question over the weekend as the court date I fretted over came and went with yet another continuation.  As an anxious citizen, I'm frustrated at a system that allows a man charged with felony kidnapping to walk the streets.  As a sane-minded citizen, I can feel compassion; but as a victim, forget about it.  I'm mad and I want justice and I'm wondering how long it will take?

In God's ever present mercy, He reminded of a sermon I heard years ago when I lived in Elk City.  My pastor at the time, Mark, was preaching about an older couple that was a part of his congregation early in his ministry.  The man suffered a severe heart attack, and it was only the multiple attempts at CPR that was keeping him alive.  As Mark prayed with the wife in the hospital waiting room, the doctors came out and said the husband was revived - only to come out minutes later to say that his heart had stopped again.  This process repeated itself again.  And again.  And again.  And again.  I'm not sure how many times the doctors said the husband died on the operating table, but I do know that figure is in double digits.  At one point during this trying ordeal, the wife turned to Mark and asked "How many times do we pray for him to live?"  Mark's answer:  "As long as it takes."

I do not serve a sadistic God, but a God who reveals himself to a sinful world for His glory, not ours.  I have no idea why my life is taking the turn is taking, but I cannot mistake the role God has in it.  While the earth is not bowing to my anxious desires at the moment, the Bible says that all will be revealed for His glory.  And I see God moving in my life in so many other directions (finances, my children's health, my family healing years long rifts) that I cannot deny that He is in this situation as well.  How many times do I pray?  As long as it takes.

An interesting endnote to Mark's anecdote about man who kept coding in the hospital:  the man made a complete recovery.  He went on to live for many years.  He even outlived his wife.  How many times do I pray?  As long as it takes.

smoke screens

Isn't it amazing that the moment you need prayer support, Satan tricks you or distracts you into thinking about a million other trivial things and not on the important event that is imminently around the corner?


It's happening to me right now. An important court date is tomorrow, and that date needs prayer. But what has my mind been focused on? I'll list a few of them in no particular order and each is equal parts silly and downright embarrassing. On top of thinking about bills and kids and Mom, I have spent the weekend fretting over: what baby gift to buy next week, how white TJ's teeth should look, should I shop at Crest or Walmart for groceries, have I lost enough weight, why did wear those awful shoes to work on Friday because I have blisters on Saturday, am I ever going to remember all of the names of my 153 new students, what do my bosses think of me, and last but not unbelieveably least, I fretted about the number of chairs set up in the church sanctuary for Sunday morning service. I really wish I was kidding about this because reading what I have just written makes me realize I sound like a certified neurotic.

But after much prayer, I understood that all these silly silly thoughts that exploded into my head over the weekend were just ploys from the enemy to keep me from lifting up tomorrow's court date. The prayer of the righeous is effective, and how effective are my words when I am bogged down in blisters, teeth, and chairs? I also realized that after Tuesday, the trivialities that seem so concrete will disappear like the smoke screen they are. See, the Bible talks about the prayers of the righteous - not the prayers of the distracted. Satan doesn't have to utterly demolish us. He can keep us in our own little anxious world too caught up in what's not real and make us impotent warriors in what is real.

Why I chose stained glass creation

I am not a maker of stained glass art, but an admirer of the skilled hands that create these gorgeous pieces.  I love the notion of taking cut glass of various colors and forming them into a tangible, breathtaking display.  A stained glass window is an appropriate metaphor for my life - it is the broken pieces of glass and God in his infinite wisdom as the Creator putting the pieces back together and making something beautiful.

I am not an addict, but I can in all truthfulness say I am a victim of addiction.  .  But anyone who is married to an addict, or the parent or friend of an addict is a victim, and if you are out there, you know the multiple struggles and rock bottoms that shake your faith, discouraging you will until it is a lifeless mass in your chest, and breaking your spirit until it shatters onto the floor like glass. As a young Christian, I falsely held onto the notion that nothing bad would ever befall my way, but as a maturing Christian I know that we live in an imperfect world and God will lovingly pick up the pieces and show us the way.

My ex-spouse is a gambling addict that ignored many warnings from friends, pastors, even enemies and chose not to change his ways.  His decision ultimately ended our marriage and ruined us financially, leaving me a single mother of four great kids.  In the beginning of this new and utterly scary journey, the Holy Spirit impressed upon my heart three simple words that have been a lifeline in this tumultous sea of tribulation:  'Heal, don't hide.'  Heal, don't hide.  Heal my heart towards all the drama and trauma that wasn't my doing.  Heal my spirit and allow myself to be led by God instead of hide my soul and be angry at God.  I wish I could say those three words are easy - they're not.  But the peace that comes in healing is worth far more than the bitterness that comes in hiding.  As a way of healing, I wrote and journaled and poured my emotions out on tear-stained paper.  Writing is so very therapeutic, and I encourage everyone to do it.

My goal for this blog is to speak with others who are in witnessing loved ones in the throes of addiction and suffering it aftershocks.  I want to pray with you, and receive prayer in return.  My journey is just beginning and my picture is not yet complete, but I know others are making this same journey too.  It seems lonely, like no one understands.  And the thought of sharing this information with your church can seem mortifying - what if they think something is wrong with you?  Please know that this is not the case.  There are many on this road; let's find each other.