A few weeks ago, I encountered this man. He was loving, kind, and nurturing. He said, “I look forward to the miracles you will help to create.” I honestly can’t give you any more context because the words that came out of his mouth were the only part of that experience that I remember. These words were the only thing that mattered. The man wasn’t even talking directly to me. I don’t think he was at least, but now as I say that I am not so sure. The words were so clearly spoken… to me!
Some days I get completely and entirely overwhelmed by the notion that I am to help other people. My insecurities creep out of every crevice, leaving me wondering what on earth I am doing/ trying to do. Miracles? Help create MIRACLES?! Nah. That’s too much!
To give you a little piece of my raw feelings, here’s an unedited journal entry from a bit ago:
"i am here writing because i have felt the urge to sit and start writing something. Though my anxiety tells me it'll be nonsense, jumbles, and mumbles that do nothing but keep me from getting the much needed shut eye I have wanted the entire day. Maybe that'll be so. I have this blog post I have been working on and oh my goodness. It is so painful to think of the possible heartache in my future. Why do i need to share my story? Why not someone else? Well. I don't know. But I do know it's me. God has asked me. He is not telling me to tell my friend over there to do it. It's me. .my story that the God above thinks will serve some purpose for my fellow humans. Gosh is that thought terrifying too! I am terrified to succeed. I am terrified to fail. I wonder if people will get it, or if they are kind of wondering too." Obviously my emotions were explosive. Here we are, a few weeks after this journal entry, and I have had some clear revelation given to me that deserves a space right here. Last Thursday I hit an all time low. I sat and binge watched Bakeineering shows for 4 hours, while five baskets of might-still-be-clean laundry hung over every chair or table. There were cheerios all over the floor from Archie's afternoon snack. The table hadn't been wiped off from last nights dinner. Ugh, one step into that kitchen and rats would rule. The dishes were piling, fruit flies were spaz flying, like they do, and the garbage was overflowing. My house was a pigsty. And I sat in it, wishing I was sleeping. That night I had prescheduled a trip to the temple. I kept that reminder from my husband, avoiding any additional pressure to go. Inside, I kept thinking of our leaders counsel to "keep our temple appointments." Long story short, I prayed and had the thought, I would feel better afterward, if I go. 10 minutes before I would need to leave, I rushed to the back room, changed, notified my husband of the plans, and ran out the door. Shoot, I forgot my temple bag! I opened the door, and my husband stood standing with the bag in hand. I raced there, hoping I wouldn't be late or run into traffic or get pulled over. Some of those happened, but it didn't matter. I made it. After my temple work was done, I went up to a room and sat to feel the peace I really needed. The chandelier shimmered as I sat in the silence, looking at the cream colors, the beautiful flowers on each table. The clean glass mirrors. Peace filled my soul, quite literally! Then the following revelations came like paused thoughts: I feel better because I came to the temple. Reading your scriptures at 7 AM will change your life. Don't worry about the burdens, focus on the path. How does God view you? How do you view yourself? Find out the answers to those questions & strive to love who you are today. These thoughts may seem a bit more cryptic or jumbled to you because you have no clue how bad I am at reading scriptures or about all the worries I have been having about future burdens, or the deep-rooted fears I have about whether or not I'll get through the next huge trial that comes my way. I didn't tell you about all the negative self-talk I freely provide my brain. Nor have I fully expressed how hard it was/is to keep my trauma from fully defining the rest of my life. I have fears. I have insecurities & I share them because the reality is that hard days exist, but God is in them. I haven't mastered letting Him into my life. I feel aimless some days. Often, those days, God is trying to teach me how He can help, and what things will make me feel better. The thing that I really hold onto above all else is that in the thick of this week's down day, God spoke to my exact needs. This reminded me that God knows me personally. He knows how to succor His people. That gave me motivation to be better at getting to know Him. I just felt like He is a God worth getting to know. Listening to God's voice is worth my time I hope you get to experience His love this week & if you can't, don't lose hope. God is there, especially when PTSD and other challenges make it so hard to feel Him.
Leave a Reply