As I sit thinking and writing, the view I gaze on is my taste of heaven on earth... sun twinkling off the still and glassy waters of the Muskoka lakes as a Loon calls in the backround. A soft breeze blows thru the screen door and the smell of the previous night rain mixes with my morning coffee smell to wake me up to my final full day in my paradise. I'm winding down a week of much needed healing and rest with my 4 precious kiddos and my incredible parents, who have given of themselves selflessly the past week to love on my kids and with amazing patience and love, continue to point them to Jesus thru every moment of our days here. It's been the simple things... no flashy purchases or shopping adventures. Just enjoying God's creation. Walks along the hilly and winding dirt roads to gather wildflowers for our kitchen bouquet each morning, canoe and kayak trips along the shoreline to see the handiwork of The Creator in every rock and boulder and tree lining the lake, the blanket of millions upon millions of stars that seems so low you could reach out and touch them... the list goes on and on. I knew my body was worn out and needing rest before the week began, but I didn't realize just how desperately I needed it until my mind finally unwound enough to process.
Have you ever had someone give you something with good intent, but you just weren't ready to receive their words or gift at that moment? The time just wasn't right? You knew they were right but your heart and soul just weren't ready. It seems like that's been my story a lot lately. I've walked a pretty ugly past few years. If I'm fully honest, there were plenty of times I thought it would never end. People with good intentions would tell me to just pray... give it to God... forgive... let it go. And all that is good and true, but sometimes I wanted to just scream in their face that they had no clue the agony I was wrestling with deep down inside, and their words only made it worse because in the depths of my being I knew what they were saying was right, but I just couldn't do it. There was so much buried pain that I didn't even know how or where to begin. It was like the onion... layer upon layer as I would process would reveal more buried pain and heartache. I had been "strong" (or at least I thought I was strong... putting on a good strong front) for so many years, the onion was gigantic. It seems to never end as the layers came off. Nearly 2 full years ago, my mom mailed me a book. For those who know me well, you probably just giggled knowing full well I HATE reading so someone giving me a book is quite humorous in itself. It's called "The Heartache No One Sees" by Sheila Walsh. I remember trying to start to read just a page a day, and I couldn't do it. It sat on my bedside table for well over a year and a half. So in packing for my trip (which I packed for in all of 20 minutes for myself and 4 kids! LOL! Yep... I'm not your typical girl by any stretch!), I threw it in my bag thinking maybe, just maybe, I would read more than a page. Little did I know what God knew... THIS was the perfect time for the book for me. For a much deeper page of healing and freedom. A whole new meaning to "letting go". (Ps... for those of my friends who have walked a tough road... this book in AMAZING and I highly recommend it!)
So as I write, this is a reminder to myself more than anything. See I carried on as "strong" for years upon years. I was ashamed of my hurt and pain. I was too proud to let on that deep inside there was battles raging. The were wars behind closed doors of my home. There was heartache upon heartache that I thought I should be strong enough to "fix" or "get thru", but the reality was much different. I needed help. Much more than I even knew just a few years ago. I'm so thankful and humbled by the incredible Godly counselor I have, who's walked thru the onion layers with me for nearly 5 years now. And I'm learning sometimes you need more than even just a counselor, and that's ok. The fears and anxiety I faced were real. Caused by things out of my control. But real all the same. And in order to be a healthy mom to my 4 precious kids, I needed help. The more layers I peeled off, the more the pain of reality set in. I struggled to "stay strong". But as sleep got less and heartache became more uncovered, I realize that my view of "don't medicate a problem" was living in a fairy tale world. I realized depression and anxiety was real. PTSD was real. And sometimes it's more than we can handle on our own, even with God's help. So I got brave and got help. It's been just under a year ago now, and I've been too ashamed to let others know. But this week as I read the words of the book that was that gift so many months ago, I realized it was ok. My giving in to taking a medication to help me overcome my PTSD anxiety and struggles was not a sign of weakness, but rather a sign of strength. Admitting when we need help, and getting the help we need, it not a failure. It's owning that we can't do it on our own.
A few weeks ago, my sweet 9 year old asked me why God allows struggles to people who love Him. I told her that was a question I wrestled with as a grown woman too. I had shared with her how God says that "...in this world we WILL have trouble..." and "When you pass thru the waters, I will be with you; and thru the rivers, they shall not overflow you. When you walk thru the fire, you shall not be burned, nor shall the flame scorch you." (Isaiah 43:2) I loved how Sheila Walsh put it in her book... "Hold on to that promise when your feet are wet and the smell of smoke is in your hair. Hold on to Christ, for He is holding on to you." I can honestly say I've felt Him holding on to me more in the past year than I've felt in all my life. It blows me away to see His daily God kisses to remind me that He's holding on to me!
"It's never too late to be who you might have been!"
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