Life Sucks Sometimes

It’s a privilege to have my sweet little sister, Jessica, be a guest writer this week!

I have seen her grow leaps and bounds through one loss after the other. She really has been like an perfume bottle that has been shattered and leaves it’s unmistakable and beautiful fragrance at the feet of Jesus. I have seen her grace towards others abound as well as her kindness despite the jabs she’s endured.

She has taught me a lot by how she lives and I’m grateful to have her in my life. I know you will be encouraged by what she has to say.

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I remember saying as a little girl, “that isn’t fair!” But my Dad would calmly say, as most parents do, “Life isn’t fair.” That never made me feel better as a child and quite frankly, it makes me feel even worse as an adult. Why do we think life is supposed to be fair? Why do we expect others to treat us as we ought? Why do we think bad things should never happen to good people?

Life isn’t fair. I’ve experienced its unfairness closer than I would like. Way too close. Actually, it’s cut my heart pretty deeply this past year. Not only have I experienced it but so many precious friends and family have too. You hurt for yourself but your pain is doubled when you see other struggling through their own trials; and, you can do nothing to fix.

Friends turn on friends. Significant others choose to not only walk away, but hurt you. As if you never meant anything to them leaving your heart utterly confused and in pieces. Others twist the truth and even discredit your character despite how much you try to make amends. Illness and emergencies hit the families who deserve the best. Instead, they have one trial after another. You’ve tried for a baby for so long and you see other mothers aborting theirs. No matter how hard you fight to get ahead in life, get the job offer, get the raise, get the promotion. You’re overlooked and brushed aside. Again. There have been many prayers that were only one sentence: God, I’m so tired of losing.

In the moments where you feel so low… do you ever crave justice? Crave for life to be fair? Crave to win one? There’s something in our inner gut that is screaming out for justification. For our situation to work out right. But knowing you’re powerless to ever make that happen? It doesn’t matter if you’ve done everything you possibly could to change the situation. You still want the person who hurt your heart so effortlessly to feel every bit of bitter pain they caused. Or, you’d like for the healing to finally come from the hundreds of prayers said in tears bellowing from trials you’ve experienced. That would make everything fair, right?

I wish I had a nice neat bow of happiness to wrap up this blog, but I don’t. Life doesn’t always give that gift. Praise God for the times and seasons of blessings and comfort. If anything, I’ve learned to appreciate it now more than ever. But sometimes life just sucks. I’ve come to realize I can give all of it to God while still saying I don’t know why it’s happening. In the midst of the unfairness and the ache, in the middle of the night, in the worst of storms, in the hours spent by the hospital bed. Do we believe God can truly work it out? And much more than that, can He work it out for our good? Is our God capable of doing that? To be honest, I’ve struggled with believing it. That’s where faith becomes action. Its where the rubber hits the road.

Pain brings faith to life.

Friends, I have no other hope than that. Is He able? If He is, take a breath, and remind yourself of that truth.

Even though I feel he was taken too soon, I’m glad I can still hear my Dad’s voice in my head. Especially when I’m tempted to get angry or bitter over life’s unfairness. Yes, life sucks and it’s not fair. Sometimes just saying life sucks while biting into a Klondike bar is healing in itself. Life can suck while God is still good and in control.

Listen: Life Keeps Moving On, Ben Rector

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Fighting Fear: Through Surrender

INTRODUCTION:
As I began thinking of this topic, I knew I had to ask Linda. To me, she is a quiet warrior. She loves her husband and family well. There are things she faces that often times, heaven is the only one to hear of it. One Sunday, I was able to sit next to her during worship, and I opened my eyes, I can’t remember why, but I’m glad I did. I saw Linda with her hands raised. She was worshipping with her whole heart. She probably hates that I’m writing this, but time and time again, I have been challenged by her faith. I have also been lifted back up through her encouragement. This post was a challenge for her. After reading it, I know you will understand why. However, I could not hold back the tears after I read it. We serve an amazing God, and He truly is worthy of every breath we are given. Thank you, Linda, for being an amazing sister, friend, and encourager.

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I don’t want to remember. I don’t want to look back. It still hurts, the tears might come back.

 

I remember that night. Everything was quiet and dark: a few footsteps in the hall and sleep nowhere to be found. I had asked the nurse earlier what all the numbers meant. I needed to know which ones were important and which ones were not. 93. Her coloring was good. She finally calmed down. 92. She looks so peaceful. When is that tech coming back? 91. Has it been 4 hours yet? Wonder what they can give her next. 90. That nurse told me she would check on her. Where is she? 89. Do I dare leave and get the nurse? What if she needs me?

I left and got the nurse. They came and gave my baby some oxygen to get her levels back up to a safe range. They never reached 100 but at least she was getting what she needed.

 

The next 2 years were spent with daily breathing treatments, ER visits, and weekly doctors’ appointments. Some days I lived in 4-hour windows. Treatment to treatment, praying she would make it and not need to go to the ER. I blamed myself. Maybe I ate wrong, maybe my house was too dirty, maybe there was more I could do. I feared losing her. I feared that it would be my fault.

 

During those times, I cried out to God. My hands were in fists, ready to fight the next asthma attack. But over time, I learned you can’t get oxygen into your lungs when you panic and hyperventilate. I also learned you can’t accept God’s gifts with clenched hands. I learned to let go. I let my heart tearfully worship that we had another round of medicine available to us even when healing didn’t come. I learned to enjoy THIS one and only day because tomorrow was never promised.

 

When the dark nights came and my daughter would be fearful, we memorized “For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power (Make a muscle), love (cross your arms over your chest) and a sound mind (point to your head)” 2 Timothy 1:7 I had to take this to heart as well because so many days I was crumbling inside. My faith in God grew stronger in this season. I came to realize God loves my little girl so much more than I can fathom. He has numbered her days. My job is to care for her until His plans take her elsewhere. Peace came in trusting Him.

 

Amazingly, 2 years after she was diagnosed, we go the OK to take her off all medicines. I was excited but nervous. We had a family trip planned to out of the country. 2 weeks would be fine, I thought, but packed all her medicines and machine just in case. A few days into our trip and I knew she was struggling. I pulled out everything and got her set up. I flipped the switch on and the machine started smoking and quit working. The adapter we brought failed. In a moment where time freezes, I just prayed. “Lord where in the world do we find a doctor to order a machine in this country we don’t belong to without insurance? And in enough time before she is in a full blown attack?”

 

I got my husband and he headed off to find a pharmacy. I did something I had never done before. I crawled into bed with my daughter and opened my Bible. The only thing I could remember was Psalm 139. Instead of reading it normally, I added my daughter’s name. I told her these were written for her.

“Oh Lord, you have searched Abi and know Abi. You know when she is sitting and rising up.(1)… You formed Abi’s inward parts: you covered her in Mommy’s womb. I will praise you, for Abi is fearfully and wonderfully made (13)…” We read it all. I held on to those words like I never had before. They were words of life, truth, and hope. We had just finished the passage when my husband walked in. He was back so soon, I thought it was bad news. Instead, he held out his hands, and in them was a brand new machine! Unlike the USA, with insurance, regulations, prescriptions, in this country, you could walk to the pharmacy and buy a new machine no questions asked! God’s provision blew me away.

 

My fear of losing her and “what if?” still pops up. But over and above those fears are the stories of God’s faithfulness. I would have never experienced His love and compassion and purpose if we hadn’t walked through the trials. I struggled to walk back to this season. I didn’t want to bring up those old fears but it reminded me of His steady hand through all of it and His eyes who see what lies ahead.

Song of the Week: Spirit of the Living God, by Vertical Church Band
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