Three and a half years ago one of the biggest tragedies to ever grace my life occurred. It knocked the wind out of me. It shook me to my core. When it happened, I refused to believe that it was happening to our family. When we were going over funeral arrangements I felt like I was outside of my body watching other people grieve. When I finally let myself believe that he was gone I had a husband that was completely broken, a son who couldn't believe his gaga was gone and all the pieces, and people, surrounding our life felt like they were crashing to the floor. Although it's true that the pain stings a little less over time, this morning his face flashed through my sub-conscience like I was reliving it all again. But God reminded me of the beautiful things He laid before me during that time and the many months after. And I knew He wanted me to write about them here.
I remember January of 2009 very clearly. One early morning I sat on our couch, staring at the fibers in our living room rug. The rest of the house was asleep and I was almost jealous that they were. The early signs of depression had already set in, although I was in denial because "Christians weren't supposed to be depressed." I had known for some time that something was off, that I wasn't myself, but I couldn't really pinpoint exactly what it was. I began to feel fearful of everything; fearful of car accidents, fearful of harmful parasites, fearful of childhood leukemia. We had never been in a car accident in the Dominican, we had never contracted harmful parasites and Landon definitely did not have childhood leukemia. Nonetheless, the unknown began to cripple me. I didn't want to leave my house. I didn't want Mike to go anywhere without me. I didn't want to leave Landon with anyone. Slowly but surely I was convinced that if we were separated, one of us would die.
Looking back, it sounds so incredibly dramatic but the reality is, in the thick of depression even the most irrational things become rational. My irrational fears of loved ones dying went past my immediate family to my extended family as well; parents, sisters, in-laws. It was a suffocating place to be. The once out-going, happy, passionate person I was, slowly began to die within me. I knew I needed help.
I began meeting with a mentor friend of mine who also happened to be an incredible woman of God. I can't imagine what she thought when I laid everything out for her, but regardless, she acted in love and committed to walking me through this very dark time. I discovered that the real source of my depression was a lack of trust in God and a completely warped idea of who He was. I had a past that I never felt like I had been adequately punished for and I was waiting for the shoe to fall, the lightning to strike. I couldn't wrap my mind around this whole "new creation" thing or the fact that my slate was wiped clean. Surely, God was keeping a tally and just when I thought life was too good to be true, the punishment would come. And because the punishment I deserved hadn't come yet, I sat waiting, day after day, wondering when the day would arrive and my life would be in shambles.
We began reading the book, "The Shack," chapter by chapter. I realize this is an incredibly controversial book in the Christian sphere but for me it held all the answers. No, I do not believe that God is a large, African American woman or that I can sit and eat meals with The Holy Trinity but it revealed to me the characteristics of God that had been hidden from me before. And through those characteristics I began to realize how trustworthy God really was. How He cared for me - how He paid the price for me so I didn't receive the punishment I deserved. It changed my perspective, the cloud lifted.
For nine months we met and I was a different person. Mike and I were expecting baby number two, we had moved into a new house, Landon started school. Life was as good as it could get...
...and then the shoe dropped.
I don't need to describe to you all the emotions and painful recollections that surrounded the phone call we received when my father-in-law passed away. Or the brutal months after as my husband dealt with the loss of his best friend. Or trying to deal with a newborn and a very confused two-and-a-half year old, essentially on my own. It just goes without saying.
Several months had gone by since Joe's passing and I was trudging my way through my devotions one morning. The words, "I prepared you," kept going through my mind. "I prepared you," He kept saying. Prepared me for what? For the exact thing I couldn't bare to happen, to happen? For someone I loved to die? For my world to go to shambles?
And then it hit me.
My world didn't go to shambles. I was broken but not defeated. He had prepared me nine months prior for something that He knew was going to happen on September 10th, 2009. For something that should have rocked my world and crippled me. He walked me through my deepest fear, gave me a clearer picture of His love for me and restored my trust in Him before the very thing came to pass that should have plunged me further into the depths.
Some people may see that as a spiteful God, to "let" something like that happen knowing it was the thing I feared the most. But I saw it in a totally different light. Jesus never said we will have nothing but rainbows and roses once we accept Him as our Savior. He says, "In this world you WILL have trouble..." Trouble is inevitable. We live in a lost and broken world. But what I realized through one of the biggest tragedies of my life is that I have a Savior that takes the time to give me knowledge, insight, hope and counsel to prepare me to face whatever giant stands in my path...past, present or future.
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