The Tears of Blessing

I was sitting in church, and before I knew they were coming, tears were rolling down my cheeks. As the worship team started singing, the tears began flowing. I didn’t even know why at first. It was like my heart knew what God was about to show me before my head did. As the verse turned into the chorus the tears kept flowing at a rate I could no longer sing along. I let the words wash over me as moments from the past four years flashed in my mind.

Some of the best things in my life have happened during the past few years. In the same bundle of blessings came the most confusing, difficult, questioning moments of my life.

In our first year of marriage, my husband Matt and I went to Nepal on a mission trip. While we were there, we both knew without question, that God had called us to adoption. Fast forward 8 years, and the Lord opened doors for us to add a little tiny Ethiopian girl to our family of 4.

We loved her before we ever met her, and two years later, we brought her home. As a 9-month-old babe, she had experienced more change and loss in her little life than most adults I know ever do. She amazed us with the ability to adapt to a new life with a family. 2 boys and a precious little girl, we were pretty certain our family was complete!

Three years later, in late 2013, we learned of a pair of infant twins in foster care who needed a forever family. God asked us if we were willing to go there with Him, again. In faith, that God would provide all we needed to parent 5 kids, we said “yes”.

In 2014 one-year-old twins join our family. They had arrived in the world at 25 weeks, micro preemies weighing in at under 2 lbs each. Medical needs, isolation that NICU life brings, foster care…they too had experienced an immense amount of loss and trauma in their first year. They brought a lot of laughs into our lives, and we grew more in love with them every day.

Unraveled

In the two years that followed, hands and heart full to overflowing, I found myself unraveled, broken & scattered. I loved each of my kids SO much. The trauma that my 3 kids from hard places had experienced, was beginning to rear its head in our lives. 4 out of my 5 kids have a lot of challenges day to day. Long days of intense and challenging behaviors undid me. Advocating for their needs was an everyday task. My energy levels were depleted, my brain fried, emotions raw. I felt like I might fall to pieces at any moment (and I did, often). My brain was full of questions.

Would I ever feel the same as I did before?

Would I ever be that girl I used to be again?

What had happened to me? Where did I lose myself?

Would I ever not feel totally exhausted?

Will I ever get through a day without losing it?

Would my kids ever become manageable?

Why did my friends with kids seem to handle life so much better than me?

And, the big one…Did God give this job to the wrong girl?

It was too big.

Too much.

Too heavy.

Too hard.

I would sit on my bed, in tears of guilt and disappointment in myself, telling Him, “Lord, I’m sorry. I don’t think I can do this well. I really thought I could, but I have nothing left.”

My sweet, encouraging, godly friends assured me, that God had not make a mistake. And, I really wanted to believe them. I begged God to strengthen me, restore me. I filled my calendar. I filled it with things that I thought would help me feel like we had it together, and I was doing something more meaningful than hanging on by a thread.

The Lord gently encouraged me to hang on; To keep trusting Him with my family through this hard and dark place. I was to keep believing that He called me to mother these particular kids and that even where I failed, He wouldn’t. I was reminded to keep spending time in His Word and let it revive me.

So, I did my best to keep putting one foot in front of the other, but I was frozen in my state of overwhelm. There was no white space on my calendar, and I had no capacity to process how to get unstuck.

#HELPME

In April 2017, I reached out a medical professional, because I was convinced I’d developed ADHD. I was in a fog. I couldn’t remember anything and was forever walking into a room and asking myself, “why did I come in here?”.  I asked my mom, “have I always been this way?” She assured me, while I’d always been a bit of a “free spirit” I did not struggle with focusing as a kid.

At my first appointment the “professional”, listened to me. She told me she believed I was experiencing secondary trauma. That the trauma my children had experienced affected them very deeply (which I knew).

She reminded me that the work of mending little broken hearts is physically demanding and that helping brains heal from trauma is heavy work. She told me what I already knew, but needed an outsider to say. She told me that my family had very unique needs and demands, and it was ok for our family’s version of thriving to look different than those around us. She encouraged me to clear space in my life for recovering and maintaining this life. She sent me on my way with some tools to make adjustments to my life. God used that conversation to empower me to make some very needed change.

Leaning In

In the months that followed, my “hang on” turned into “lean in”. I prayed for a lot of wisdom. I asked God to show me what things needed to stay, and what I needed to clear from my life. I asked him to show me how to say no to good things.

We needed more space in our life for thriving, for me and my family. I asked him to show me what was working for us and what was not. I kept leaning in, sitting in faith, that God was a good God, who loved me, loved my family and had good beautiful things in store for us. And He showed up. He gave us insight on what adjustments to make, and slowly, we began to stabilize.

It became clear to me, as I sat in church that Sunday, listening to that song with tears on my cheeks.

 

When I thought I lost me

You knew where I left me

You reintroduced me to your love

You picked up all my pieces

Put me back together

You are the defender of my heart

 

Right then, I realized it. He had done it! Little by little, in the past year, He had put me back together. I no longer felt the dark fog gripping me. I no longer felt unraveled by the end of every day. He had taken my efforts in faith, to make space, and he filled that new space with peace & beauty. Instead of the heaviness of comparison, I felt free to choose what’s best for my family & their needs. He helped me find myself, when I wasn’t sure I’d ever feel that way again.

 

All I did was praise

All I did was worship

All I did was bow down

All I did was stay still

 

Friend, if you are walking in a dark time, may I encourage you? Lean in. Lean into your faith in our good God. Ask Him to show you beauty in where you are. Keep offering Him your worship. Continue (or start) praying for strength & wisdom. Give Him your heart & your time. It will not be worthless. He has shown himself over and over in scripture, to be faithful, and that He does what He says He will do. His Word reveals that He has everlasting kindness toward us. He sees us.

 

HE LOVES US.

So much, in fact, that He did not leave it up to us to save ourselves but sent His one and only beloved Son to save us.

Not a Fairy Tale

My life has not miraculously become an overnight fairy tale. My kids still have hard stories. Advocating is still daily work. Behaviors are still intense and needs are high. It’s a daily fight to walk humbly in faith that my assignment from Him is right. However, I’m no longer stuck in the fog of overwhelm and I’m free to make choices that help us thrive, instead of being driven by an overloaded calendar that did not serve me or my family well.

I have found that my own plans work best when I live within the limitations and strengths of my own personality and make plans that suit my particular circumstances. I am not like others; my family has different parameters of need. I am quite free to do what is best for us when I plan for our family to flourish with all of our uniqueness in mind.

― Sally Clarkson, The Life Giving Home

When I asked the Lord to put me back together and was faithful to make room for Him to work, He did. He gave me the wisdom to see where I could make changes. I learned to not fight against our unique needs by forcing my plans for what I thought would make our life meaningful. Instead, I found beauty in embracing them and creating space in our life and home to serve our needs well. I had felt lost in the fight, but He never lost track of me. And friend, He knows right where you are, too. He has never lost track of you, and He will put you back together, too, when you let Him set the course.

 

Scriptures to cling to in the desert:

Psalm 119:50 “This is my comfort in my affliction, that Your Word has revived me.”

Psalm 141: 2 “May my prayer be counted as an incense before you; The lifting of my hands as the evening offering.”

John 3:16 “For God so loved the world, that He gave His one and only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him will not perish, but have eternal life. “

Romans 12: 1&2 “Therefore, brothers and sisters, in view of the mercies of God, I urge you to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God; this is your true worship. Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, so that you may discern what is the good, pleasing, and perfect will of God.”

Philippians 4:11-12 “For I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances I find myself. I know both how to make do with little, and I know how to make do with a lot. In any and all circumstances I have learned the secret of being content–whether well fed or hungry, whether in abundance or in need. I am able to do all things through him who gives me strength.”

Recommended reading:

The Life Giving Home by Sally & Sarah Clarkson

Different: The Story of an Outside-the-Box Kid and the Mom Who Loved Him by Sally Clarkson & Nathan Clarkson

 Lyrics for “Defender” by Rita Springer

 

About the Author:

Eryn Kesler has been married for 18 years to Matt- the best thing that’s ever happened to her, is mom to 5 amazing kids, is a recovering overscheduler and wedding & portrait photographer in Brush Prairie, Wa.

 

 

 

Isaiah 43:19

Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?

I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.

When We Walk in the Desert

Dear Friends, the spiritual desert will come sooner or later. It just will. It can’t be avoided. Those dry, often painful weeks, months, years where God seems so far away, and we struggle to find restoration and joy. The struggle leaves us bone weary and isolated, and we have nothing left.

The path into the desert can be varied – the death of a loved one, an illness, divorce, or a prodigal child. Broken relationships. The burnout we get from serving and serving and serving. It can be a moment where we are confronted by our own secret sin or an idol that has crashed down around our ears. It can be when other people’s brokenness rub against us and cut us deep.

It is in the space between hope and reality that our desert emerges — disappointment and grief at life hopes unfulfilled, barrenness that rubs raw wounds in our hearts and steals our strength. When we meet obstacles, we lie down, too tired and weary to go over the wall in front of us.

The Desert Experience

The whole of scripture is desert themed. The moment Adam and Eve sinned they lost their lush Garden where they walked with God every evening and found themselves in the wilderness where they struggled and toiled.

The moment their relationship with God was severed, their lives became marred by sin and death.

The Bible is authentic in its portrayal of the desert experience. It makes it clear that the journey through life is a hard one for both Christian and non-Christian alike. It is full of many moments where darkness and pain seem bottomless.

Here are just a few of the authentic desert moments the Bible captures:

The Israelites wandered in the desert for 40 years (40 years!) homeless and unmoored without a place to belong until the disobedient generation was gone (Numbers 14: 26- 40, Deut. 1: 34-40).

Naomi loses her husband and sons and returns to her homeland empty and bitter (Ruth 1:19-21)

Elijah, exhausted by the battle against wicked Ahab and Jezebel, flees into the wilderness, lamenting (wrongly) that he is alone in the struggle (I Kings 19:1-18).

Job despairs over his life as he sits in the ashes, sores covering his body, mourning the loss of his children and wealth (Job 3: 1-26). His friend’s advice in later chapters don’t help his painful situation.

In anguish, Jesus, alone (while the disciples sleep because they can’t handle his pain), sweats drops of blood as he faces death on the cross (Luke 22: 41-45).

Paul puts words to the struggle in 2 Corinthians 1:8-9: “For we were so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself. Indeed, we felt that we had received the sentence of death.”

The Bible is not blind to the suffering of this broken life.

Mirages in the Desert

In my own travels through the desert, I often see mirages. Those shimmering troubles where things aren’t real. Comparisons that leave me discontent while I spin the “what if” wheel – “what if I had done X?”, “what if that person had done Y?”.

The reality that the people and things I love don’t fulfill their early promises overwhelms me with hurt and loss that I can’t express and in my mind thoughts of unfairness and anger swirl until it is hard to see any good things in my life.

Reading back over my journal entries written during the desert times of my life I am struck by the language – tired, worn, bitter, angry, overwhelmed, despair, avoid, anxious, trapped, hopeless, isolation.

I rage at the unfairness and heartache in life until my hurts threaten to become bitterness. I nurse my pain, grumbling and blaming.

And, to be honest, sometimes my bitterness feels good – justified anger that makes me feel somehow righteous. I feel entitled to it.

Yet it is in the midst of my brokenness I long for the freedom of God’s oasis. I long for the abundant springs of God’s grace and wisdom. I want them to reshape me and give me life, yet I am uncertain about releasing my (imaginary) control to God. I question whether God is really enough to revive my dry and thirsty life.

The One Who Encircles Us

Yet, thankfully, God has never left me alone in the desert.

In my desert, God draws near to me even while I withdraw. When I finally look towards God, He allows me to lament my sorrow with no shame or guilt. Gently God refines me. God reminds me that I am not trapped by my feelings or the expectations of others:

“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (Matt. 11: 28-30).

And I remember how God watched over the Israelites as they wandered through the wilderness leading them as a pillar of cloud by day and pillar of fire at night (Exodus 13: 21-22). He did not leave his people alone. He kept His covenant promises even when his people rebelled.

Deuteronomy 32:10 reminds me:

“He found him in a desert land, and in the howling waste of the wilderness; he encircled him, he cared for him, he kept him as the apple of his eye.”

I love this language. I love the protectiveness and compassion of God. The good news is that God does not change. The God that encircled the Israelites is the God who still watches over me and you in the desert no matter how we got there.

Abiding in Christ

In my desert times, weaknesses and doubts rise to the surface. Often I rely on my emotional state to determine the depth of my “Christianness.” But in the desert – the times when I feel so lost, so tired, so alone, so confused, so despairing – these are the times when I can step away from my own understanding and pride and into God’s arms. I have to. My emotions are dragging me under, and I have to put my trust in something more solid.

It is in the desert that I can authentically put my dependence on God. Not because my emotions tell me to but because, despite my feelings, I know God is the only one who holds my ultimate hope.

C.S Lewis expresses this in his allegory, Screwtape Letters, when Screwtape, the senior devil, warns Wormwood, an apprentice devil, of faith that steps forward towards God even against the grain of our feelings:

“Do not be deceived, Wormwood. Our cause (the Devil’s cause), is never more in danger than when a human, no longer desiring, but still intending to do our Enemy’s will (God’s will), looks around upon a universe from which all trace of Him seems to have vanished, and asks why he has been forsaken, and still obeys.”

In the desert, I have two choices. I can let my emotions carry me away into bitterness and rebellion, or I can pour my heart out to my God knowing he is big enough to hear my cries and my anger and walk towards him in faith.

It is in the wilderness I come face-to-face with the reality of my brokenness. I am not a very good pray-er. I want to be, but in the normal daily life, I get distracted.

But when in the desert I pray, and pray and pray. Mostly, I rant and turn to Psalms to help me put words to my feelings. Deep in my soul, I know that God’s strength will never fail even when mine does.

And here, as I pray and read and search, God scours me of my self-deception and washes away the idols I foolishly put my hope in. As Paul Miller puts it, “As I prayed, God remapped my soul.” (A Loving Life– a book I highly recommend by the way – pg 54).

When We Hope in God

Hope is often a weak word in our culture. We hope towards uncertainty.

“I hope it doesn’t rain tomorrow.”

“I hope I can make it to the party.”

“I hope my kids will turn out ok.”

“I hope I will get the job.”

“I hope the cancer won’t come back.”

What will the future hold?

The Bible expresses hope with strength. It is a certainty when we place our hope in the living God. Our God is the One who carries us in the desert. He is faithful and holds our future securely because He gives us a certain path in Christ (Rom. 5:3-5; Gal 5:5; Eph 1:18-23; I Thess 5:8-11; Titus 2:13-14, 3:4-7).

The beauty of the Gospel is that it doesn’t shame us in our desert times. It lets us lament and pour out our hearts in the spectrum of feelings that come at us. And then it points us to Jesus and draws comfort in a Savior who knows and understands.

He knows our despair because He Himself despaired.

He knows betrayal because He Himself was betrayed.

He knows unfairness because He suffered horrific unfair suffering on the cross.

Jesus knows what it is like in the desert and He doesn’t look away. Jesus fully embraces us with compassion and gives us a strengthen hope that knows a certain future because He rose from the dead.

His defeat of death means we have a hope that our tears in the desert are not forever. One day Jesus will return and “wipe away every tear from (our) eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away” (Rev. 21: 4).

The desert ends forever. What a great and certain hope.

Consider:

If you are in a spiritual desert how are you lamenting? Towards God? Or in anger and bitterness? What do you need to lay down so the Good Shepherd can take care of you?

If someone you know is in a spiritual desert how are you loving them? I recommend Paul E Miller’s book A Loving Life: In a World of Broken Relationships on how to embrace people in pain with a gospel-centered love.

Over the next few weeks, we are going to hear from different voices as they tell us about their spiritual deserts. We hope that these individual experiences will encourage – you are not alone! – and remind you that we have a certain hope in the promises and sovereignty of God.

 

About the Author

Valerie Hooks:  I like to write, read, drink tea, and research stuff. I am a passionate follower of Jesus. I have teenagers (pray for me) and a fantastic husband. I call Summit View Church in Vancouver, Washington the place I am loved, honed and challenged in my walk with Christ.