A category such as “Recovery” seems quite the vague idea. Recovery from what? There are so many things a person can recover from; a death of a loved one (spouse, child, parent, or any significant person in your life), death of dreams, divorce, infidelity, infertility journey, accident and injury, abuse and trauma in its many various forms, addictions in its many forms, a physical and/or mental illness, betrayal, a breakdown, a breakup, loss of a job, financial bankruptcy, loss of your home and the list can go on.
I have experienced many of these things and I am not so sure we ever truly recover. We will not be what we once were. We are changed. We are different. We are stronger, hopefully. What we do is accept and graft it into the fabric of our lives. It takes time. Difficult? You bet it is! We grieve, we cry, we rage in anger sometimes, we scream and stomp our feet like a two-year-old not getting our way. We question God and His goodness. Why God? Why? Are you there God? Where are you? Why won’t you answer me? For me, it just was. I did not question. I knew why. I just did not like it; not one bit. Mine was how long God… how long must I endure? God help me!
We seek to blame something, someone, anything. And we experience the vast array of emotions that we have been gifted with that makes being human so unique, such a blessing. Such agony! We claw, work and feel our way back.
Or the alternative; we grow bitter, resentful and angry. We retreat and say the hell with it all and withdraw from life. We might question, “Is this all there is?”
God’s Word states in Romans 8:28, “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose.” I do love Him, sometimes only weakly with just a bare glimmer. Sometimes I love Him and others with the same swelling heart that the Grinch Who Stole Christmas at the end finally had for the Who’s of Whoville.
I am still waiting for this good though, to see it, to feel it, to taste it. I may not know all the good that might come of it this side of Heaven, but I can sure tell you the flip side of the good; the unending ache. The soul-sucking-I-cannot-breath-nor-do-I want-to-crushing feeling. And no, I am not having a heart attack or a panic attack. Honestly, I feel rather numb. It quiets the ache. But it is the unending ache that sends me seeking out the protection and comfort of my God. Psalm 90:1, 2 says, “Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, ‘He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.’ ” I cling to this. I cling to the very words of God, cause frankly, sometimes, it/He is all I have left. It/He is my only shred, my only link to sanity. It/He is the only thing that makes sense.
Sometimes in my most broken times, I clasp my Bible and draw it close to my chest. I wrap my arms around its black leather cover and crinkly transparent pages and I weep. With my heaving sobs, I am comforted knowing that “Jesus wept” too. And I sense His presence with the embrace of His Word to me and to the world. The healing begins. This is the year for me to stand, to face my giants and to stop running.
In my gut, my soul and spirit though, as I write and begin to meditate on God’s Word, my taste buds are beginning to burst. This “good” spoken of in Romans 8:28. My salivary glands are becoming moist as the River of Life fills me up. The same Living Water that was experienced by the woman at the well upon meeting Jesus, the promised Messiah. There are so many things I want to say… to encourage… and to strengthen. But the whole proverbial elephant cannot be eaten in one fell swoop. One post at a time. If no one should ever read this, I am okay with that. For this is my journey with God. My Recovery Road Back of learning, “To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your (my) God” (Micah 6:8).
I dance for the Lord and Him alone. I want to please my Creator as a young child seeks to please and love their earthly mom and dad. I want to walk like Enoch. To fly, to be caught up into the sky to meet my Bridegroom. One day. One day soon.
And yet as I pray and meditate and commit my way to Him, I sense this rising familiar voice. It flicks its hissing tongue. It’s hideous! A sense of defiance, a rebellion that still resists. It persists. I cannot explain it. I want it gone. Long ago, it was not there. A war continues to be waged in places I cannot see. If we only knew. If we only knew. Lord come quickly.
End Part 1 of 2. For “The Road Back – Part 2” – follow the arrows ⇒⇒⇒.