Walking With God

Out Of Adversity A Victor Arises

Have you ever felt like your life was dealt a death blow?

Have you ever felt like you’re down for the count, so to speak, and everything in you screams to just give up, just give in to the pressure on you to stay down— make it stop!

Have you faced situations that made you want to just buckle under emotional stress and declare “Uncle!”

If so, what made you rise up and fight back?

Was it self pride? Tenacity? A hatred for losing?

What motivates you to stare into the tendrils of fear, and defy it’s pressure?

I am a fighter.

I will fight to survive.

I will fight against bad treatment of my children. I will fight for them to attain their dreams, as much as they will allow me to. I will fight for my relationships to be healthy and strong with each one of my children, because God lent them to me, entrusted me with them— and besides loving them, I sincerely like and enjoy each one of them.

Being a fighter is exhausting. It’s overwhelming.

When I’m fighting “battles” on several “fronts”— it takes everything I have in me.

The battle of health, home, relationships— sometimes mentally and emotionally, I am down for the count. Health alone is an enormous fight that most people never see, and nor would they understand.

The battle with my health is a constant undercurrent. Adding other battles to that is something I’ve grown used to, but in all of that, weakness wants to take over.

I’m not weak, though.

I’m actually stronger.

I’m stronger because I have help.

I don’t mean physically strengthened, but an inner resolve.

An unction.

Sometimes I forget that I don’t have to bear it all on my own. I have an inner, and outer strength that’s not my own.

Even when I forget, God remains faithful.

Even though I don’t deserve it— God sustains me.

Scripture has taught me that God works His purpose through people who have done some pretty bad things! Paul murdered people. King David almost killed his father-in-law, and he killed a giant, not to mention making sure a man died because he wanted his wife!

Yet God made sure their stories focused on what He accomplished through these imperfect humans.

While I tend to focus on all of the many, many ways I fall short and negatives that have hurt , God has been writing my story in His history books with Him and His grace at work both in me and through me, as the center focus.

Psalm 121:1-8 “A Song of Ascents. I lift up my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come? My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth. He will not let your foot be moved; he who keeps you will not slumber. Behold, he who keeps Israel will neither slumber nor sleep. The Lord is your keeper; the Lord is your shade on your right hand.

Romans 8:28 “And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.”

My inspiration comes from Jesus, Who did not just give up, but fought actual death— and won! He is my example, my inspiration my strength— my Help!

Every battle I struggle with, belongs to Him, and Him alone.

American, An Honest Perspective, God's Heart, The Past, Walking With God, What life has taught me

Exposed

I hate my past.

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I hate the parts of my personal story that involve my past. I don’t like who I was, I don’t like what I lived through. I abhor my reactions and choices. I despise where I had no choice or that I had no one to help me, to comfort me, or just talk with.

Yeah, I hate my past.

Maybe that’s why I haven’t been able to get my book written. I hate reliving it. I hate thinking about it. I hate how when I am in a group of people and I just want to fit into the conversation, I feel compelled to share my experiences so I can identify with others. And I hate how vulnerable and

exposed

I often feel when I tell something deeply personal.

Who really wants to hear about the horror experiences of my childhood and teens, and for what reasons do they want to hear about them?

Who cares? About me?

I loathe feeling like other people think I’m competing in storytelling. I hate how it just feels normal to me that I have gone through so many things, and then I see that look of shock on the face of someone I’ve opened up to- then I realize, my life has been anything but normal.

It’s like a thorn in my side.

The parts I don’t hate about my past are when God shines through, as a warm, magnanimous Light, as if He has given my heart the most loving hug.

Healing me, bringing completeness to my injured, abused soul.

Exposure reveals the miracles and even the heart of God throughout my life.

Hating my past has helped me to love and appreciate God. Living my life, I’ve learned there is no one more trustworthy and faithful than God.