I Lied When I Said I Was Busy

I lied when I said I was busy. I mean, I was busy, but not in the way that you think or in the way most people are busy. There were days when hope seemed like a mystery and joy was a four letter word. So I was busy trying to clear my head and put pieces of me back together. Some days I was just busy remembering to breathe and steady myself. I was busy chasing boys and being a mom while my heart was breaking. I was busy just trying to catch my breath and rest my shaky legs.

Grief was a thief.

Sometimes I would stay up way too late and think too much. I sobbed into my washcloth in the shower. I silently buried my tears in my pillow at night. I allowed myself to feel everything: pain, loss, joy, sadness, lies, and the truths. I wanted to feel every sting and every high so I could understand them. I didn’t want to deny myself the process of sorrow.

Many times I heard the words of Job’s wife that she spoke to him: “Curse God and die.” Oh, how the enemy fought for my collapse. He used dear friends to spout condemnation and shame upon me. He used religion to rip open the flesh of my heart. Others chided, ”A true warrior doesn’t give up.” Oh, but I cried, “A true warrior knows when they are defeated and when to surrender.” I was waving the white flag, unrecognizable to myself in the mirror.

In no less than four months, I lost the only father that I knew. He wasn’t my father by blood, but he was my dad. He passed away on my youngest son’s birthday. On the day of my son’s rescheduled birthday party he was buried, and later that afternoon tornadoes ripped through our town. We took shelter in our basement and sang, “Happy Birthday.” We ate cake as alarms bellowed intermittently from cell phones. I celebrated my son’s fifth birthday with my heart split wide open. Joy and grief all at once was upon me. In that same month one sibling declared I was no longer his sister. Grief and guilt can tear holes into you. Inheritances can bring out the best and worst in human nature. My mother grew silent. Then, four months later, my oldest son was diagnosed with a neurodegenerative brain disorder. Death was spoken over him. The deep sobs and groans that escaped me were terrifying. My marriage was already unsteady and had barely made its way through three counselors at this point. I was dying a slow death that felt like it wasn’t even my death to die. Four and half years and another counselor later and I waved the white flag. I refused to allow the poison of pain and loneliness to infest my bones and my soul. Many were certain I had walked away from God. What they didn’t know was that I was white-knuckling the hem of his cloak as the enemy dug talons into my heels and tried to drag me to my grave. Religion is death, and man is fallible.

I was reminded of a quote by C.S. Lewis.

“Of all the bad men, religious bad men are the worst.”

But the good news is that God is life. He is the great and mighty redeemer.
God is beauty and grace. He is a bright light shining into the darkness of deception, lies, and despair. He is truth. He is hope. He forgives us of our own sins so that we may in turn forgive others. He is sovereign and the King of kings. He is the Redeemer. God is love.

Love. Love. Love.

He is kind. He is gentle. He waves us into his presence so that we may rest our weary heads upon his chest. He offers us refuge in times of trouble. He is the promise of new life. He makes all things new.

I am still under construction and being re-made, but God is good. He continues to bring about redemption in my life. He is healing the broken parts of me, and I am finding life again in Him.

I am sorry that I lied about being busy.

In the words of George MacDonald,

“I would rather be what God chose to make Me than the most glorious creature that I could think of; for to have been thought about, born in God’s thought, and then made by God is the dearest, grandest, and MOST precious thing in all thinking.”

2 Comments

  1. Reagan Dregge
    Apr 30, 2019

    Oh thank you dear Mitzi.

    And thank you Jesus for letting her (and me) be born in Your thought.

  2. carri ann
    Apr 30, 2019

    Thank you for so transparently sharing your battle. I ache to know what a battle you’re in, but I trust your Redeemer who does live. Thank you for encouraging us with the encouragement you are receiving.

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