Out of the Darkness

In our house, we have a big chalkboard that my husband bought on the side of the road somewhere in our city.  It is a piece of really rough plywood, covered in low quality chalk paint.  When he bought it, it had long legs, like an easel.  He sawed them off and stuck that bad boy on the wall.  We always have some pretty little drawing or lettering on the board, mostly thanks to Ryan's skills.  Sometimes it is a seasonal bit, sometimes scripture or lyrics from a hymn, and sometimes we put something on it specific to an event or dinner we are hosting at the house.  I love it and it makes me smile often.

The day this picture was taken, at the beginning of this summer, was actually a day that this chalkboard brought me to tears.  I remember walking past it on that busy day.  I was preparing a Mexican themed dinner for some friends who were preparing to leave Africa for a year.  I turned the corner into the kitchen and I distinctly remember standing at the sink, washing dishes, and crying out in gratitude to the Lord for this moment.  Simply thanking Him that I was zipping around my house, in a hurry to get dishes done and a meal ready to share with friends, and that I had the energy and enthusiasm to do it.  My mind sort of rewound 6 months to a different time and a different season for me.

I recalled standing at the same sink, months earlier, and crying as I did dishes because it was all I could do to just survive.  I reflected on the many days in a row of tears.  I recalled so many nights, looking at Ryan, when dinner should have already been on the table and telling him through tears that I didn't even know what to cook and being totally overwhelmed that people needed me to figure this out for them.  I remember another time standing at that sink, during that same season and wondering if I would ever get past survival again.  Would I ever be to the point that laundry and meal prep and parenting did not seem like mountains looming in front of me?  I had wondered if I would I ever again possess enough well being and energy to open my home to others. 

And yet here I was, preparing to welcome friends- and not for the first time in recent months.  It hit me, in that moment, glancing at that chalkboard, how God had and was healing me and how He had brought me out of the darkness.  

I couldn't recall a moment when it happened.  In fact, a counselor friend asked me what did it, what flipped the switch, what made it better?  And I don't know.  I do know that it was a gradual thing.  I do know that some time outside of our country over Christmas, without all of the responsibilities of daily life in Africa helped and seemed to be the beginning of my chin lifting.  During part of that time I was able to attend worship daily with colleagues and heard the word of God in a way that really watered my parched soul.  I also know that being vulnerable and sharing with a small group of trusted women who lifted me up in prayer over many months contributed as well.  I sought resources with a counselor who helped me identify some positive steps to take toward healing.  A loving husband who was exceedingly patient with me and gave me permission to do whatever I needed to do to get well was also an essential part of the picture.

I do know that I am so, so grateful that I am not at the same place where I was when I wrote my last blog post, nearly 9 months ago.  There are still struggles.  I still fight moments of being overwhelmed or days where thoughts of uncertainty swirl in my mind.  But by God's grace I'm not residing there in the darkness today.  My prayer, as I reflect on that season is that God can use the valleys in my life to make me a more compassionate and empathetic friend to others who are in the midst of the struggle.  I desire nothing more than for my pain to be redeemed for his purposes.

"The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit."

Psalm 34:18