The other night, I was startled awake by the cold nose of my dog Belle. She found the edge of my hand which had slipped off the bed in the early hours of the morning. My eyes slowly opened, adjusting to the darkness. Belle stood patiently next to the bed, her nose nuzzled into my open hand. At 8 years of age, our black lab has a relaxed view on life and normally, very little can convince her to get out of bed. As I tried to figure out what was so urgent, a clap of thunder echoed through the room. Belle began to shake and huddled as closely to me as her large frame would allow. Glancing out the nearby window, I realized we were in the middle of a thunderstorm. The change in weather was unnerving to my once brave dog. I shifted in the bed to allow room for her and, seeing my relocation as an invitation, Belle quickly jumped onto the bed and under the warm stack of blankets. Over the next few minutes, her breathing began to slow and I could feel her body relax against me. As I finally drifted off to sleep, a bolt of lightening streaked across the sky and Belle lurched. I stroked her hair and spoke softly, slowly reminding her that I was still there. She gradually began to settle in, leaning against me. The storm continued throughout the night, as did our routine.
Two years ago, I created a blog. It wasn’t listed publically. For the first year and a half, no one knew of its existence. It was a safe zone…an arena to process through my day to day thoughts with a level of transparency that only anonymity can bring. The blog was just for me.
When I started it, I was going through a unique time in my life. The career I’d chosen 8 years before took an unexpected turn. My family faced a battle we never could have prepared for. And I began to feel restless, empty, alone. I quietly withdrew and spent much of my time thinking, processing through and talking to God.
I remember the day I felt the foundation begin to give. There wasn’t a specific event that took place. Perhaps it was the mere fact that everything remained the same. But on that day in October, something shifted. I couldn’t take another step. I was desperate for answers. For relief. For change.
“I have had enough Lord.”
Much like Elijah in 1 Kings 19, in the midst of desperation, I cried out to God. I was overwhelmed with frustration. This was not the life I’d dreamed of when I was a little girl. Things were not supposed to turn out this way.
The storm in my life left me feeling much like Belle in hers. And in the darkness, I too reached for an outstretched Hand.
That day in October proved to be a turning point in my life. For years, I had prayed that God would change my circumstances. I had asked Him to give answers, to lend discernment, guide steps and often felt that my cries weren’t heard. But that day, God began a process of slowly revealing all that He’d been doing behind the scenes. He was answering my questions, paving the path, extending peace when I needed it most. The prayers I uttered were heard. God cried when I cried, hurt when I hurt.
Today I begin a new blog with a fresh perspective and renewed appreciation of my Master.
“He stilled the storm to a whisper; the waves of the sea were hushed. They were glad when it grew calm, and he guided them to their desired haven.” Psalm 107:29-30