If ever there was a passage in Scripture that has described a season in my life so perfectly, it is…
For we were so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself. Indeed, we felt that we had received the sentence of death. But that was to make us rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead. He delivered us from such a deadly peril, and He will deliver us. On Him we have set our hope that He will deliver us again. 2 Corinthians 1:8-10
The deepest of waters, that’s where I am swimming, or rather drowning. These waters are engulfing and suffocating. As Paul writes, “[I am] despaired of life itself,” I too feel there is no hope of rescue. I cry out to God honestly and ungratefully, “Why have you thrown me into the deepest of waters?”
I have taken some extended vacations in the terribly dreadful island known as Depression. I have run away from my Father, looking for a replacement. I have resided for many months in some pretty ugly, self-absorbing Resorts. But this season does not compare.
I cannot figure out which is harder: losing my dad or muddling through raising three closely-aged boys, one of whom has a Sensory Processing Disorder (causing numerous out-of-control meltdowns each day, among other things), which I have yet to fully understand, let alone to figure out a way to help him. I have concluded neither my grief nor motherhood is easier, but together they are all-consuming. They call me to the bottom of the ocean, beckoning me to give up and stop fighting, to drown in the deep waters.
I cannot rely on myself. Though I stubbornly try so hard, I just cannot do it. I lack the wisdom, the strength, the grace. And on top of that, my dad was ripped away from me. (Yes, that is how I feel some days.) I am weak and selfish. I am mentally and emotionally exhausted.
I have nothing left to give.
“Awesome!” God rejoices. Continue reading “Burdened Beyond Belief”