Ever been skydiving? I have. But not the kind you're thinking.
If I could describe the last year of my life, I might compare it to reluctantly riding in a helicopter, getting pushed out over the Grand Canyon, and then being thrown a parachute mid-air, only to spend the next year trying to climb my way out of the biggest hole on earth. (Is it technically a hole? Feels like a hole.)
Maybe I’m being slightly dramatic. Maybe not. I’m not really sure. I’m not entirely out of the hole yet. (We landed on hole, right?)
All jokes aside, I have never questioned God, what I believe and why I believe what I believe as I have during this season.
If you’ve been following the blog for a while now, you’ve probably read about our miscarriage that happened in December of 2020. (what a way to end that year, huh?) Ever since then it seemed like as soon as we would catch our breath, another crisis took over. From the almost life-threatening complications from the miscarriage which then led to PTSD, (possibly a future blog post—hats off to all the mental health survivors out there) to the deepest hurt and betrayal I’ve ever experienced, this past year was one hit after another. It’s hard for me to write this and not feel like I’m being dramatic, but as my therapist told me, “Most people only have a few major life crises scattered throughout the span of their life. You’ve had about 7 and they all happened in the last year.”
This past year has no doubt been hard, but God has used it to convince me of some truths I knew in my head before, but now know in my heart.
“But everything that was a gain to me, I have considered to be a loss because of Christ. More than that, I also consider EVERYTHING to be a loss in view of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. Because of him I have suffered the loss of all things and consider them as dung, so that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own from the law, but one that is through faith in Christ—the righteousness from God based on faith. My goal is to know him and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of his sufferings, being conformed to his death…” Philippians 3:7-10 (CSB)
It’s one thing to say my goal in life is to know God. It’s another thing for it to actually be true.
After experiencing panic attacks for the first time in my life and the spiraling fear they brought with them, I often found myself afraid to live. Not survive. Survival mode was in full force. I mean live with passion, with something to actually live for. Because if I had reason to live, that meant I had something I could lose. I was frustrated with myself because I thought for sure I was the type of Christian who took up their cross and followed Jesus with a smile. Turns out I’m not.
I was scared to love my husband, my kids because what if lose them, too? I was afraid to trust anyone, because what if they were living a lie and would eventually hurt me? I saw God as a master manipulator who didn’t care at all about me but was ultimately only concerned about himself and I was just a pawn in his game. How could he be genuinely good when people I trusted turned out to be living a lie? So many rugs had been pulled out from under me, I was having trouble finding ground to stand on. And the resulting fear I experienced was paralyzing.
My faith was shaken. And I began to doubt. God’s goodness. His love. His glory. Was it all a scheme? Had I bought into another lie? Did he actually love me or did he just say that to manipulate me into bringing him glory, because after all, that’s what the Christian life is all about?
God used the difficulties I was facing to peel back the layers of my heart and expose it for what it was. It wasn’t a heart secure in Christ, but instead a heart that was gripped by comfort and control. When what I thought would be an easy, normal pregnancy turned into the loss of a child, my illusion of control was stripped away. When I had to spend over 3 months in bed, in and out of the ER, doctor’s offices, blood work labs, and ultrasound visits due to miscarriage complications, comfort took a backseat and survival kicked into high gear. When relationships were broken and friends who were family had to move, I was left reeling and grieving.
It wasn’t until these things were taken away that God showed me there’s only one thing in this life that will never be taken away—Jesus. He is the one secure thing I have. He is the one person I will never lose. And from that place of hopeful brokenness, God began to make himself alive and big in my heart.
When I had nowhere else to turn, I could turn to Jesus. When it felt like I had nothing left to hold on to, I could be held by Jesus. But it didn’t end there. It didn’t end with a rescue. What started from a place of desperation grew into a joy-filled surrender. When I could see Jesus for more than what he could do for me and start to see him for he who was, that’s when things started to change. But it meant taking off the lenses I had on—the lenses of control, of comfort, of fear, of unbelief. I had to see God for who he was, not for who I thought he was. At first, I wasn’t too concerned with God himself, I was just desperate and knew he was the answer. So in my self-consumed state, He wrapped his arms around me, carried me out of the hole, and began to show me the fellowship of his sufferings and the power of his resurrection, which would eventually lead to one life goal—knowing him.
It’s tempting to stay in a state of brokenness. I can play the victim, I can have a “woe is me” attitude and my flesh likes that. It’s appealing to make everything about me. What starts as a necessary step becomes a place where too many Christians get stuck. We get focused on ourselves and our suffering, and we forget who suffered more. We need to be broken. We need to be humbled. This step is vital. It is a crucifying of ourselves, but it’s not ultimately about us. As Paul said, it is a chance to experience a glimpse of what Christ endured for us. “My goal is to know him and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of his sufferings, being conformed to his death.” Phil. 3:10 (CSB)
Because of what I was going through, I could feel a glimpse of what Jesus felt when he suffered the cross. If I was experiencing the fallout of just one person’s sin, what would it have been like for Jesus to carry that for the entire world? If anyone knows what it feels like to lose a child, isn’t it God?
Oh, how small our suffering is compared to Jesus’s. How can we even compare our suffering to his? Yet God is so good, he lets us share in the fellowship of his suffering so we can know him more. What a way to know God. What a chance to see him, in all his glory, in all his love.
But the gospel does not end at the cross. After the cross comes the resurrection. How do we experience the resurrecting power of Jesus here on earth? Stay tuned for my next blog post on the second truth God has convinced me of this past year.