The day that I looked where I used to be and saw Him instead

It's been a neat spring break so far, and I kind of just want to write about it with a plethora of little {:)} {:)} smily faces and silly, airy thoughts.


It would be fun. I could talk about kid things and mommy things.

But my fingers reach for keys that spell out heart things. This deep part of my soul that begs to be processed with words.

Then there is that tension of an internal nature; the  "how much do I say?" 
which mingles with "bare my soul".


There are parts of me that have been shattered in the past month. Confronting old ghosts. Dealing head on with some of my greatest insecurities and pain.

I'm going to override the "bare my soul" instinct here and leave this portion of the post just as it is. No more, no less.

Here's what is beautiful - I have felt the power of Christ in me surge stronger then ever. All of those Scriptures, as well as non-scriptural cliché's, that talk about God's power being perfected in our weaknesses? Well they are so true.

As I have hit times of disappointment, that felt like a weight on the very core of who I am, I have feared an overwhelming sense of becoming weaker... and weaker...
tears coming quicker,
strength ebbing away,
a softening that feels to be going deeper... and deeper.


Softer? But surely you will have answered my prayers by now God {desperation}. Built some reinforcement around this already overly tender heart?! Something? Some kind of toughening up...


But he smiles and he says, "Look. Watch this. Where you once saw you - you will see me. You might not know it right now, but this is the answer. This is the peace to your {desperation}."

He's so gentle.
He's so personal.
 He's so intimate.
His knowledge of me is so vast.

And then this thing happened, and I am still kind of breathless in my response.

I was at one of my lower points. Wrestling with insecurity and disappointment; watching reality steal pockets of hope here and there.

I wondered if I should go volunteer that day. I looked at my tired looking eyes in the mirror that morning and laughed a pitiful little sob/laugh.


 Really Wendi? Ministry? Reach out to "hurting women"? 


Ummmm, yeah.


And again, just this gentle urging.

"Yes. Go. Wait. Watch. For heaven's sake, get out of the way.... and find me"

I have often prayed that God would "get me out of the way" when I go to the Center for Women. Because I KNOW (really, really know) that what goes on there is nothing I could ever do in and of my own strength. I know that if I get out of the way, then God can do His thing.

And boy did he.

I'm sure the stoop to my shoulders and the humbled look in my eye were revealing signs of the state of my heart.

But there was this determination inkling into my being that night. Something that I wasn't very familiar with. It contradicted every feeling surging through me at the moment. But it was very real.

That night I came face to face with, by far, the most difficult case I have ever worked with in the 5 years that I have been at the Center for Women. And yet, as I began to counsel and minister, I felt very little of the familiar fears that so often stall my words and make my heart beat fast. None of the lies of, "you can't do this! What do you think you are doing here? You will never have the right words, you will mess this all up, and with all that is at stake, you really should just go home." 


Instead there was a gentle, quiet strength urging me forward. I thought nothing of myself, because as you may remember, a lot of my "self" had already been shattered. So suddenly, instead of pain, there was a surrender.

And when I went into this small room with a frightened girl who desperately needed to know that someone cared, words flowed easily from my broken soul. Words of healing. Words about my relationship with Jesus. Some difficult words that conveyed a very tough truth. There was a steely resolve to the entire process. It was done in love, but also in a strength that I do not posses. Do you hear that? It wasn't me, because I don't speak like that, I don't easily have each word, articulate and orderly, right there to flow out of my mouth. I was tired, I was not in a place to minister. Or so I thought. 

Have you ever been in a place where you almost felt like you were literally watching a scene play out in front of you... and yet you were the very one dialoging in the scene?

Gosh, I don't know if any of this will make sense to anyone, but to my joyful heart it makes so much sense. So much more sense than it ever has in my life, and I am clinging to that truth and enlightment very much these days!

I was broken in spirit, He used me big, I did not see myself, I saw Him, and I don't think I will ever be the same.

Maybe tomorrow I will write about silly things my kids say, what we are doing for spring break, and post pictures of the pancakes we ate yesterday morning. :) For now, this needed to be the next step in my processing.