I recently stood in the congregation of my small church with racking sobs pouring out of me. My hands covered my face as I wailed, and although I felt awful, it also felt good to let it all out. It was like the small, spring shower that had started at the beginning of the week had just continued to pour, and by Sunday I was swept away in the torrent that flooded my soul. And although I held tightly to my faith through the storm, the pelting rain still caused me pain. That pain emitted from me in the way of hot tears coursing down my cheeks and falling on my chest.
It wasn’t any single issue on its own, but rather the conglomeration of so many small hits that tried to take me over. Health scares, financial worries, job scares, and seeing things you had put so much work into be ripped right out from underneath you. So something as seemingly simple as a Facebook hacker stealing my account could actually equate to years of investing into my writing and garnering blog followers across the world being gone in an instant. Tons of invested time in my Rodan + Fields business forever erased. Customers lost, readers gone, and friends leery to reconnect with me. I felt silly about being upset over a social media account, even if it did provide financially for my family, but I also realized that this was just the final straw that was breaking the camel’s back. So I wept.
There’s no way I could contain in one blog post all the many things God has spoken to my heart in the past four or five days. It would likely be a jumbled mess if I tried. But I do know that through all my grief over my recent trials I have held close to Him. I do know that Satan desires to separate us from relationship with the Lord, and that has been something I have not let him do. I have held fast to my faith even when I don’t understand, and I have thanked Him for the many things He is teaching me through it all. I’ve held tightly to the promises written in His word, and accepted the things I cannot change.
I’ve professed that if it’s not from God then I don’t want it, and that I desire to be humble and a servant of my King no matter what. I’ve rested in the fact that He cares for me, and that even when I cannot see the end of my trials or a solution to my problems that He is faithful to walk me through it. So although tears may fall from my face, my heart rejoices for the one who counts every single one.
My issues are small when compared to that of others, and the very big things God has taken care of for us. Yet that doesn’t always make you feel better in the midst of an issue. I would imagine, though, if it’s important to me then it’s important to God. He’s that kind of Father, and He doesn’t go around grading who needs His help and comfort the most. I’m grateful for a big God who can handle the most difficult of needs and find solutions when there is no way in the natural, but also that He is personal enough to see the most tiny, insignificant parts of me.
The best part, I suppose, is that I know I’m good regardless. No matter what the outcome, if a solution comes, or even if one does not, I know that God has His hand on it. What the devil means for harm my God works for good, and He is a God of ultimate restoration. I’m resting in that. I may still grieve some circumstances, and I may fall to moments of anxiety or worry, but I never doubt that He is in control through it all.