My Unraveling

I’ve never had this happen.

Where did you GO, Lord?

It was nothing earth-shattering, just showing up for a conference, and having this strange sinking feeling. Something along the lines of: This ship is going down.

Not a good feeling. 

It was strange, and I think perhaps only perceptible inside. I can’t say for sure, but I don’t think anyone else sensed the Titanic drowning I felt, like, “Um, Lord — You and I do this, remember? We go places and You tell me what to say, and I say it. Remember? But this time, um…Where are You?!”

In the midst, His Word gave me a word: 2 Corinthians 4:6-10

But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us. We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies.

It was clear enough: God was allowing my clay pot to be shattered a bit, to show that the surpassing power belongs to HIM, not us. I clearly got this memo. He leveled me, broke me, made me desperate. And He did prove faithful. Apparently anyway. But even as numerous women came up and proclaimed how God had moved mightily in their hearts that weekend, how He was so present to them and speaking clearly to them, I inwardly responded: “Oh good, I’m so glad He met you. I wonder why He didn’t meet ME!”

Just strangely alone, that’s all. 

I came home. Everything was fine. But I was weary. Sad. Oddly discouraged. I kept going through the motions, getting up, doing the Bible study, praying (pathetically), journalling a line here and a line there, trying to keep smiling at my kids but wondering where my joy had gone, where HE had gone. Two long weeks go by.

“What’s God teaching you these days?”

She had asked, full of anticipation and smiles. A question I usually love, usually brimming with way too many words to share in response, I sat there awkwardly, agitated that I didn’t know.

“I think it’s just to remain faithful even when I don’t see God moving, even in the not-fun seasons.”

I felt like the ultimate downer. But how do you say, “Actually, I feel like God left me and I don’t know where He is right now?!” 

The next day, a last-minute turn of events necessitated my accomplishing about 537 things in a short amount of time (you know those days!) and then filming a last-minute video shoot at my house for an upcoming conference, a video shoot for which my grand total of all preparations made was ZERO. Awesome. I’m supposed to talk into a camera and say something that will encourage women to seek God — but I don’t even know where He is!  I was absolutely unprepared, overwhelmed, trying to keep a smile while I urged the kids to finish homeschool lessons, cleaning the house (although really, does the videographer care if the floors are swept?! Come on, Kari.), and willing myself to not care about the huge zit that surfaced on my face just in time for the camera. *sigh*

God, where are You?

Just then, a text comes through:

“I was praying for you … and this verse came to mind. Not sure the importance of the verse but maybe it will make more sense to you: “When ambassadors arrived from Babylon to ask about the remarkable events that had taken pace in the land, God withdrew from Hezekiah in order to test him and see what was really in his heart.” (2 Chron. 32:31)

So, yeah. This has to be about the least encouraging word I’ve ever received.  I already felt God had withdrawn from me, and now this just sealed the deal. To see what was in my heart? My heart is nasty black selfish muck! That’s what’s in my heart!

I knew it was from Him, though: This is a dear friend, and I trust her completely. I tried to keep helping the kids with math, but I couldn’t hold back tears. I could feel everything crumbling.

Unraveling.

I slipped away into my room and got down, face to the floor, and just sobbed out to God.

“Why?! Why are you withdrawing from me? Why would you do this to me?”

And so clearly, I heard in my heart:

“Because I love you.”

Ok, I confess, my knee-jerk response was, “Well that’s not a very nice way to treat people you love!”

But even just “hearing” His voice, brought comfort. 

He loved me. 

That’s it.

That’s all I knew. I didn’t know the whys or hows or when this would end or whether the videographer would show up and I’d burst into tears and ruin the whole thing.

I didn’t know anything. I couldn’t hold together my plan, I couldn’t hold together myself.

I unraveled. 

And in the unraveling, He flooded my heart. His voice, His nearness, His Words, His guiding, His heart, His leading. Suddenly I could see clearly. I could see the pride, I could see specifically how Hezekiah and I were alike, I could see the drifting in my heart, how Self creeps in and sabotages all that is pure and sacred and holy.

And in this unraveled state, nothing else mattered but knowing His love. 

Because nothing else does. 

And this overwhelming, unexplainable, incomprehensible PEACE and joy filled my heart. Filled my home. My mind. I knew what to say. It was all about Him. He was all that mattered. All the cluttered chaos of selfish motivation melted away in the blinding brightness of His goodness. 

He was WITH ME! Who cares about all else?! He was was HERE! Hallelujah!

It’s amazing how everything can change in a moment …

the moment we let ourselves unravel. 

{May we live unraveled. Thank you for reading.}