Memorial Box Monday Saturday

{the not so fine print: Memorial Box Monday is a time to remember God's faithfulness 

in our lives. This was started by Linny, visit her blog and read the amazing stories she shares.}

Backed up against the wall with nowhere to go. The weight of the world is crushing me. Suffocating. I don’t know to whom to cry out for help. Don’t know if I even can.

I stumble into and out of church wondering if I’m invisible. I’m in a room full of people and yet I feel so very very alone. Happy smiling people surround me and my heart pleads for a hug, a smile, a kind word even. My throat is dry, and my lips stay shut, arms wrapped around my middle keeping the hurt inside. No one can hear my silent cries for help. No one can see my pain.

I feel uncomfortable in Sunday school and stop going… choosing to hide in the nursery with my baby instead. When my baby is plagued with sickness and I miss a month of Sundays I feel as if no one really cares . The motivation to come back is gone for the first time since I started going as a teenager. We go occasionally at best.

Financially we’re ruined. Month’s without hot water. Limited heat all winter long. When the food stamps run out at the end of the month I struggle to feed my babies and I hope and pray the little ones don’t get sick again because it’s a long drive to the doctor and my gas tank sits on E. {deep breath} Collectors call asking for their money. Some make threats to take away our home and leave us without a place to pillow our heads at night. My husband works non-stop, so much so that he is only home for six days every 6-9 weeks and yet the paychecks are minimal at best.

He doesn’t deserve this.  My kids don’t deserve this.

It’s not fair…

Or is it?

We have our health. We have each other. What more could we ask for? Nothing. We already have far more than we deserve.

Be as it may we’re at the end of our rope. Backed into a corner up against the wall with nowhere to go.

Right were God wants us.

I find myself smack dab in the middle of my own modern day Exodus. The Egyptian army is closing in. The Red Sea stretches out as far as I can see.

Trapped.

 Nowhere to go.

Complete and utter ruin is eminent.

But God…

The water is doing something funny. I can’t explain it but the waves are acting crazy.

A  truck breaks down. 

A nudge from a friend.  

A  phone call.

Can it be? Is there a path forming?

My husband comes home early for Christmas and NEVER goes back.

I stand in awe. 

Dumb shocked.

Mouth agape I watch the water rise. I walk on solid ground again.

I am blessed beyond measure to walk my modern day Red Sea.

I'm not on the other bank just yet, but I stand protected by the wall of God's faithful protection. I look behind me and see how far He has already brought us.

I must remember!

Boiling water for baths on Sunday mornings before church. Bitter tears of loneliness cried into my pillow at night. The pang of solitude in a crowded sanctuary.

God’s been good.

It’s easy to forget but I won’t.

I can’t help but believe God truly allowed this deep pain in my life this past year to open my eyes to the pain in others who surround me daily.