I wrote this just now to encourage a friend. This friend, and si many like her, encourage me each day to keep pressing on. If you're reading this, I hope that you, too, may find even a tiny glimmer of hope to press on. ~Stephanie
I used to think a lot about running.
Like, if I went far away, then no one would know what happened and then I'd be able to do it...
I just could never figure out a way to do it without hurting people I cared for.
Then, the tables flipped, and all I could think about was how to do it and make it so my mother would hurt in the worst way possible, for the rest of her life.
My final solution was to hang myself from the tall tree in her front yard. I just couldn't figure out how to do that and stab her in the face at the same time!
I've lived with the spirit of suicide since childhood, as long as I can remember. It has been a living. Hell. An ongoing nightmare from which I could ever wake up.
All I could think about was the in-deniability of the constant, never ending pain and heartache that kept cycling over. And over. And over. Always. It has been torture. Since birth I imagine.
I'm not the one who chose to keep going...
God chose that for me.
He showed me in my spirit that he would not allow me to die until his assigned time.
In this revelation, I realized I didn't want to have to live with the stigma and embarrassment of a failed suicide attempt. I didn't want to have to share a testimony of that kind of survival with my children and grandchildren. Through this, God showed me that deep inside the God shaped hole inside my heart and soul, I desire to live. Not survive... but truly live.
Some days, I open my eyes and think oh my God. Another. Fucking. Day. I'm still. Fucking. Breathing.
A deep sigh, each of those heartbreaking days, and I breathe out, okay God. If you want me to live, you're gonna have to make me. Because I don't have the strength, stamina, or interest in doing it on my own. And it is only by his grace, and through HIS power, that I am capable of living, every. Single. Day. One moment at a time... accepting hardship as a pathway to peace.
I should be dead. The very breath in my lungs, every single day, is absolutely and unquestionably Gods merciful miracle. Because No. I don't want to live another breath without holding my precious 3 children in my arms. Without being able to tell them I love them. Without the ability to watch them breathe... sleep... wake.... and grow.
I don't want to feel another second of this staggering pain in my chest when I inhale the bitter taste of betrayal brought to me by my own blood. People I trusted to love and protect me, no matter what!
Still, I breathe. I awake. Occasionally, I'm blessed with sleep. Regardless of my inner desire to stop feeling this excruciating pain, The Holy Spirit comes in like a flood, and gives me peace, and some kind of crazy, terrifying hope of a tomorrow that isn't wrought with torture and grief.
With this spirit driven peace, is joy. I constantly battle the fear of being disappointed with Gods answers and my reality each day. The what ifs cycle through my mind at a terrifying pace, nonstop. I must consciously, and intentionally rehearse scripture in my head, the truth of what I know to be real, regardless of the fact that every ounce of my flesh cries out in a horror film of emotions.
My prayer is, Lord, If you're gonna make me live through this, USE IT. Use it for your glory Lord! Don't let a single tear drop fall in vain, to be wasted without absolute, God given purpose. I live out loud not just to survive, but to thrive. I share the hells of my life experiences with others so that they too, may know they aren't alone. That the pain is not in vain. That God has a plan and purpose for each of their lives, just like he does mine! There's nothing special about me. Nothing at all that's good IN me. I am a sinner in need of my savior, and uncountable distance from perfection.
I find purpose through encouraging others to find their hope and freedom in Christ... Sometimes God allows me to see a smile, or sigh of relief, or even a glint of hope in someone he's touching through me, it it fuels my next breath. My next day. My next week. Month. Year. He truly is all we need, and I can attes to this truth because I have literally lost every. Single. Piece of everything I love, at one time or another.
Except Jesus.
His promise never to leave me (or you!) is truth.
His oath of being our anchor and hope is truth.
That I have been given the mind of Christ... is truth. That he will give us strength to stand. That's truth too.
It's a battle to choose His unfailing truth over my faulty and fickle thoughts and emotions. But by his mercy and grace, he walks with me and shows me that it's possible, every single step of the way. Hope. Just a tiny bit. Faith... terrifying as it may be to know that each time I rely on his promises, things may not turn out the way I hope, is worth it. It grows. It's like tiny little seeds each time we take a step along His pathway to peace.... tiny steps, no matter... we must continue to move forward, trusting that he will make all things right if we surrender to his will! Serenity. It's possible. It really is. I love you precious one. Gods not finished with you yet. One. Step. At. A. Time.
We walk this valley together. We will walk the mountaintops together too. We will share our faith with each other when the other is running low! Together, we can do this thing called life. Not only to survive, but to thrive. Choose life.
