In My Weakness, Christ is Strong

How much difference a year can bring.

One year ago today, we lost both my Great Grandma Whitson, and a very special friend. Coming on the heels of an emotionally taxing move, it was a saddening shock. Watching my Mama grieve, and believing we'd miss Grandma's funeral was hard. Knowing we'd never see them again... and how close we'd been to visiting Grandma for years, but life always hit us just when we were ready to take on something extra again. And yet, they found their joy at seeing Jesus' face, and reuniting with the spouses they had missed for years. And through my Great Grandma's memorial service, which the Lord did allow us to attend, I was given a glimpse at her legacy...  a heritage that, despite not knowing her as well as I would have liked, I have been taking part in for years. I got a glimpse of something beautiful, and my heart was given a deeper resolve to the lifework God has given me.

One year ago this week, we lost our bird. Nursing her on my birthday, sick to my stomach and hoping against hope that she would survive, I stood in the hallway staring down at her, tears streaming down my face, and whispered, "I can't do this." If I couldn't be strong enough to support a bird through medical needs, how could I purposefully seek out caring for people with medical needs? When all my efforts resulted in her cold, still body, just when I thought she'd been made it past the crisis, I was positive the Lord had sent the experience to me as a final closing door, to get it through my thick head that I wasn't cut out for what I thought He'd made me for. My Mama, not knowing these thoughts, told me, "watching you care for her was so confirming to me that this is what you were designed to do". And then I remembered this post I had written during another discouraging time in my life, when I wondered if the path I was working towards might not be what I was meant to do... http://forget-not-his-benefits.blogspot.com/2018/01/strengthen-your-wings-but-rest-in-lord.html

Dawn never did truly fly, because she didn't learn to trust me until the last two days of her life. I can't describe to you the bittersweet ache I get when I remember how, sick as she was, she ran to greet me at the cage door that last night... and how she never got another chance, because within hours she was gone. Nor the bittersweet ache I get when I remember that Dawn made me question where God was leading me... and reminded me that what I feel in a moment is not who God made me to be. Dawn's death required me to open my heart to a new companion for Misty, and Mango has become a bright reminder that pain is not the end. My heart was given peace in God's timing for my future, even in the struggle of not seeing the end.

A year ago this month, I was given the sweetest little kitten. For years, I had told people I was going to own this kitten someday. I hadn't known her; she was only 6 weeks old when we found her. But I'd known I'd know her when I met her. There are cats all up and down our road here, and she wasn't the first stray we have helped get off the streets over the years, despite my Dad being allergic and unable to keep them. But when Tori brought this baby to the house after finding her alone and crying near our mailbox and handed her to me, I took one look at her and I knew. My sisters knew - Bethi from behind me asked "so, you're naming it Raspberry, right?" My chest tightened a little bit as I told her not to say that, as if refusing to voice the facts changed the truth. But she was - my spunky, friendly, vocal grey tabby dream cat, Raspberry. She climbed on my shoulder right away, and that's where she perched like a parrot any time she was frightened for the next week, as I tried to justify keeping her. But after my initial frustration - why now, when I couldn't keep her? Why when so much hurt already?- I realized I loved her too much to keep her locked up without the constant companionship she wanted. I gave in. I called her Raspberry... and then found her a home where she could be right in the middle of life with someone who loved her. I realized the Lord used that broken dream -probably planted it in me on purpose for this lesson- to likely save her life and work on mine. I texted a friend, who I'd told before that I could never even consider being a foster parent... "that was basically foster care. I loved her completely, to the point I had to let go. And I survived. It's just as hard as I've ever thought it would be, but far more rewarding than you could imagine - and THAT was just a cat". My heart feels just a little bit bigger.. and far more open.

A year ago, we had a little brother on the way. I couldn't shake the crippling fear of losing him and Mama like we almost did when Josiah was born. It was irrational - I knew they had been given a perfect bill of health - but with life hitting us from every side, I just couldn't see things going well anywhere. But the Lord was gracious, and everything did go well, and over the past 11 months, just looking at Philip's beautiful face fills me with intense joy. Our hearts needed his sunshine in what has, otherwise, been a hard, hard year for our family.

A year ago, I was exhausted, from health deficiencies, and probably stress, to the point that I was seriously reconsidering whether I should be looking for a job or not at the time. When I realized I couldn't do a simple task like clean our aquarium without needing to recover afterwards, I knew I was at the end of my rope. I had to stop being stubborn, and I have made some changes... and the difference in a year is huge. Don't get me wrong, naps are still frequently in order. But if you'd told me a year ago how much I'd do last week and still be standing this afternoon, I would have cried simply because I was too tired to imagine actually enjoying that much "life".

A year ago, sobbing over all this and more, I texted a dear friend...

"I wasn't looking forward to my birthday this year - even before it got screwed up - because the sound of being 23 defeated me in a way. I feel like I've done nothing with my life, like I'm miles behind where I wanted to be, like everything pushes me away from where I genuinely feel God had given me a passion to be. To know another year has gone by and I've literally just been waiting the whole year seriously tore me down, although I didn't want to admit it. ...I've been avoiding this for idk how long... probably ever since I was offered the hospice job and had to turn it down because I knew in my heart we were leaving SC, even though Daddy hadn't found a job yet. ...I know my place is with my family, for now.... otherwise, I wouldn't be here right now. Knowing that my dreams were being stripped away again, and yet I was where I was supposed to be... it's been so. hard."

She responded with these precious words...

"God has brought you to the place of total brokenness - to the end of yourself - to where you see things in a way and have experienced things that you never would have if your passion had happened at the time and the way you wanted. ...To see the way He's prepared you - it's beautiful. I'm sorry it's had to be so much work, so hard, so long, so heartbreaking. There's beauty in these ashes. You are strong in Him. ...and He's preparing you so that you can live [your dream] and love it in the most beautiful way possible."

"I think He's about to do something incredible," she told me, from her vantage point that wasn't so completely overwhelmed with grief. 

And within months, the incredible was happening. The year I felt the locust had eaten was restored four-fold to bring about something more perfectly suited than I'd dared hope for. Once again, the Lord used something that seemed completely insignificant years before - stumbling upon a blog - to show me that always, He works all things together. I shared some of that incredible story here on my blog last spring. And God has continued to give me glimpses of where He is taking me as the year has gone on. It has been awe inspiring. I feel like I talk or allude to it so often at this point, but it's hard to fully express how beautiful it is to have such clear examples of the Lord's purpose unfolding. I told another dear friend,  "I could write a book right now of how God works in the smallest of ways to bring the most unexpected answers to prayer about -to bring blessings we don't realize until later were connected. But I don't feel like I know what the end of the book is yet." Because I still feel the Lord working on me. I'm still watching things unfold. Just last week, my sister was officially hired for a job that was offered her through what the Lord has been doing in my life. Just a couple weeks ago, I read a book that opened my heart a little wider to something I feel the Lord is preparing me for. No, I don't feel like I'm ready to undertake a huge writing project, but maybe someday. Not because I'll ever reach "the end" of God's faithfulness; it will never run out. But just because I want to see His faithfulness praised. He is mighty, and wonderful. In my darkest despair, He was preparing me for bright joy. Through seeing His purpose in the past, it gives me peace and trust here in the future, even as we walk through difficult circumstances with my Dad's job, having no local church community currently, and with some remaining unfulfilled dreams. The Lord is using those things for something. I will rejoice to wait patiently for it.

Since a year ago, so much has changed. And yet, the most important thing - that I am right where God has placed me - has not changed at all. To be perfectly honest, my grief has not been taken away. I still hurt over what I experienced and felt a year ago - and even longer. It was real pain. And yet that is why what has happened since has meant so, so much. I can't tell you how many sentences I have written in this basement over the past year that have shattered my heart in a million pieces, and yet brought healing in their honesty. I shed tears at numerous points writing this post even now, because even in it's deep beauty-from-ashes, it pierces my soul. But this year, I do not dread turning 24. I pray that no matter the cost, the Lord would continue to do His work in my heart. That no matter what discouragement I may feel, I will remember the encouragement He has given. I want to live life to the fullest, even if right now I might not even be able fathom the fullness that might be. 

A friend asked me several years back to do a post about a day in my life. I said I would, but never got around to it... my days never look the same, and I didn't feel like I had anything worth sharing, anyway. But over this next week, I am going to invite you all to have a look at my day-to-day life. My days are never the same, but my weeks do hold much the same things, and I think it would be fun to share that with you all. I may not be doing anything hugely significant from a human stand point. I'm not irreplaceable, and, unlike last year, I realize... that's okay. But I am the one the Lord has doing these things now, and that is all that truly matters. It fills me with a deep, joyful purpose.

So as I head into my 24th year... if there is anything that I would say I want to share that I have learned in my life so far... it is to trust in the Lord and HIS plans for you. Keep your heart open to seeing the small ways He works. In your weakness, HE is strong. I know this, because a year ago, I was nothing but broken and weak... and because I could do nothing of strength myself, the Lord's might was on full display as He carried me forward.

Rejoicing in Christ,

Ambrielle