I thought that on Sundays when I’m not feeling lazy or distracted, that I’d share one of the biggest elements that is getting me through right now: scripture.
I’ve never been a big bible reader. I know the stories and could quote a verse or two, but I have never before hungered for scripture; craved it. In the last few months though, I can not get enough. There have been weeks where all books and magazines remained untouched on my night stand as I pored over God’s word trying to find something, anything, that would offer relief from the pain.
On my iPhone I have a list of scriptures on strength that I refer to often in moments when I’m in panic mode. On my iPad are pages of The Message bookmarked for easy reference. Different passages have bolstered me at different times and I’d like to share them with you just in case they speak to you too.
This first one is the most significant to me in this time. There was a night early on when I was lying on my bathroom floor with the door locked hoping the kids wouldn’t come up because I was in full on hysteria. I was sending desperate texts to friends (whom I really hope have since erased them!) begging for prayer. It was storming fiercely outside, yet two of those friends rushed over to my house and came up to my room. They literally peeled me up off of the floor and sat with me on my bed amidst piles of snotty tissues and held me while I sobbed. It was bad enough that they were discussing taking me to the E.R. for a shot of something but I didn’t want to go because I didn’t want to scare my kids.
So they started praying.
I have never before felt the power of prayer like I did that night. As thunder roared and lightening flashed outside, these dear women put their hands hands on me and prayed me into calm. What stuck out the most in my mind, were the words Missy prayed over me from Psalm 46:
God is our refuge and strength,
an ever-present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way
and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea,
though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging.
At that moment, I felt like the earth was giving way so the assurance that God is a refuge and my strength was the best news in the world for my soul.
I was able to regain some sense of composure. Enough to assure my children that I was a capable human and go to sleep while Christine stayed and watched over them.
A few weeks later, I was lying on my bed, my mind racing. I was going over every angle of my situation trying to figure out what I hadn’t tried yet, what I could try next, attempting to devise a plan that would fix everything. It was ridiculous, but I could not see that until I felt a voice in my head say, rather sternly, “Be still and know that I am God.”
So He is.
And I am not.
But man I sure like to try to be.
I looked up the phrase and found that it’s the end of the Psalm that Missy had prayed over me weeks before.
…He says, “Be still, and know that I am God;
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth.”
The Lord Almighty is with us;
the God of Jacob is our fortress.
In the end, whom would I rather depend on? Myself, who had managed to screw things up badly enough to be in this position in the first place, or God?
God is the obvious answer, but you would not believe how many times I have had to refer back to this passage and tell myself, “Mindee! BE STILL!”
I’m hoping to master it before I am eighty.