Confessions of a Former Sufferer...

Let me start off by saying that I am so grateful for suffering. I know this sounds ridiculous. I thought so too. But before that, just a little encouragement for those who are suffering is Isaiah 43:1-3. I found these words to be so incredibly comforting. I also noticed that it said, "When" you go through trials, not "if." Suffering is a part of life. James 1:2-4 says, “Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” When I first read this I was so confused. I thought James had literally snapped his lid. Was he crazy? How could suffering ever be a good thing? Okay fine, because it develops your character. I knew in all my suffering that I would grow and get a better character out of it. Fine. So be it. But I didn’t understand how on earth I was ever supposed to consider it “PURE JOY” What the heck? No way! But now that I have suffered; and now that I’m really starting to heal, I realize that although those were the worst days of my life and I never want to ever relive them, that they were also probably one of the best things that could have ever happened to me and I am so grateful for them. It almost even makes me excited. Because it didn’t just develop my character. It revealed to me on a much deeper and unbelievably more intimate level, the character of God.

I’ve had a lot of people die in this past year. Friends, family, cats I wasn’t at all emotionally attached to, Friends of family. Family of friends. You name it, I lost it. And my friends have had a lot of burdens. Burdens on which I took on myself. Through all of it, I felt I had to be their support. I had to be strong because they couldn’t be. I took the phone calls, answered questions, drove them wherever, etc. I was their support and took their burdens on myself. But this wasn’t good because I didn't just share their burden. I made it my own on top of all the others. I hurt with them, but I also had my own hurt. I had my own pain from loosing that someone too or somebody else entirely. And my brick house was crumbling. Still, I kept trying to piece it back together. I couldn’t be a burden on them. I had to fix their problems as well as my own, on my own. I became a light switch. I would put on the strong and brave face during the day, and at night completely loose it. But it was ok. Just as long as the door was closed, the lights were off, and nobody heard me scream or cry.

It was during my grandmother’s death that this became even more so. I was away at Long Beach when I got the call that she had only three weeks to live. It hurt. Like hell, but I couldn’t do anything about it. I couldn’t rush home and cry. My mom was having a pretty tough time with it. I had to be brave. It was the end of the semester. I had papers and final group projects to finish. Finals were in two weeks. I had to do well on those. I couldn’t cry in front of my parents. They had to know that I was okay. They had enough going on at home, they didn’t need to worry about me in school. Then, my grandma died the Monday before finals. All of a sudden, I didn’t want to be here anymore. I couldn’t deal with school and everything. I wanted to go home. I wanted to home. I wanted to go home. But I was stuck. And I was alone. I felt utterly alone. I knew God was there, but I felt like I couldn’t find Him. So I once again began trying to rebuild my broken brick house. On my own. Just me, my burdens, my family's burdens, and my friends burdens. Not a very good team. Trying to hold it all together. When little pieces would crumble, I would stick them back on and pray nobody noticed.

I made it! I got through finals, but I never felt relieved like I thought I would. Because then I had to go home. And that was when the little butterfly flew up, added that little ounce of weight, and the entire house crumbled. I had to help with funeral preparations, making meals, folding programs, arranging flowers, etc. That week was so busy, but I loved it. I loved being busy because then I didn't have time to think. The times when I was alone without something to do were the scariest times for me because I knew what would happen if I let them occur. I didn't want to cry that first tear because I knew they wouldn't stop. And I couldn't be weak. I had to be the strong one because my mom was crippled. On the day of the funeral I nearly lost it. In nineteen years I have never seen my grandpa cry. And when he did it was the most woeful and sorrowful cry I had ever heard. It shattered me. It literally felt like my heart was lacerating and being ripped out. I bit my lip until it bled. I didn’t want to... No. I WOULD NOT cry in front on my younger cousins. I was the oldest and it was my job to protect them. I had to be strong because they couldn’t be.

It was then that my house was literally shattering. I was in a mad, desperate haste to pick up the pieces. And I knew that God was there too. I cried out, “God. Help me! Help me put my house back together!” It was too much to bear! Too many burdens! But He didn’t help me. He was telling me. “Rachel. Rachel. Stop! Stop. Leave your friends and family’s burdens there. They are not yours to bear. I have already taken care of it. I bore them on the cross. You don’t have to be strong anymore Rachel. I am strong enough for ALL of you. Stop trying to fix your house Rachel. I have a better one for you up on the hill. Come, walk with me. Leave yourself shattered. Leave yourself devastated. Leave yourself broken. Because I will heal you.”

I understood exactly what he was saying. I knew that the reason my house was crumbling was because I had built it and tried to keep it standing, by myself. But still, in my panic and out of the hardness and bitterness that my heart had become, I refused to listen. In desperation I tried to scramble it back together. And honestly, it worked for a little bit. I made it through the funeral. I went back to school after break was over. People knew that I had suffered, they just thought I was coming out of it. But I wasn't. I had mastered the ability to flick on and off the emotions. But then the switch broke. I built the wall and it didn’t just crumble like it always had. It fell on me crushing me. And I died. I didn’t feel pain anymore. I didn’t feel anything. It was nice that I couldn’t hurt, but I also couldn’t live. I couldn’t love. I had lost the ability to feel happiness and absolute joy. I was dead inside. I couldn't remember what it was like to laugh until I cried. And that realization was the most horrific and terrifying thing still to this day. Completely lifeless. Rachel, was gone.

And still God was there. He picked me up out of the rubble. I had only made it harder on myself in my last frail attempt. I could have stopped and let it crumble. We could have started walking to the hill, but now I was dead. He had a heck of a lot more work to do now. It was nothing short of a miracle. But He did it because He is faithful. The very definition of grace. And it took a lot of time, and I’m still bruised and healing. My ankle is still fractured. But God is saying, “Step out. Let’s start up the hill. You’re still not completely healed yet, but you will be ok. I am here. You still have a fractured ankle that you have to walk on. Meaning there will still be more pain. But this road is worth it. Because I will show you more love and more joy on this road than you can possibly imagine. You've already started to see it. And sometimes you will still have days where you can't possibly walk on your ankle anymore. Don’t worry. I will carry you. You will be in my arms, just as you always have been and always will be. And after I heal you I still want you in my arms. I want you to run to me on the good days too. I am not just your Savior. I am not just your healer. I am your God! I am Holy. I am the very definition! And there are some things you are trying to put on the same shelf as me. Don’t worry, we will work out that. Rest assured. I am also your best friend. You should tell me what you tell your best friends. And if you’re ashamed to say it even though I already know-well then that’s another issue too. But I give the best advice. I am the wisest. I am the best listener. I am life. I am love. I am your identity. I am d) all of the above. You still may not feel like your old self. But you will die to your old self, and I will make you into something new and much better. For my glory. I told you in Ezekial 36:26 that I will take out your stony, stubborn, lifeless heart and replace it with a heart that is tender and responsive. You are mine. I am Good. I make good, even out of evil. I will love you the most and better than any man could. Unconditionally. Garanteed. I am your Prince Charming. I love to talk and laugh with you. I love the crazy things you do. Sometimes I say Oh Rachel, what are you doing child? And all I can do is chuckle and shake my head. I am the best comedic audience. I have the best sense of humor because I invented it. I am your Holy God. I am more than enough. I Am that I Am. And I am EVERYTHING.”