Some years ago (I don't know the exact number, I just know that I was still quite young), our family faced various struggles within the course of two-three years. It seemed like we were bombed with thing after thing. I still remember vividly the many tears that we all shed over sicknesses, losses, and all sorts of things that just didn't seem to stop pounding us.
One of those things was a sickness that came over my mom.
I remember being absolutely terrified that she would lose her life...
it was somewhere during that time that I was diagnosed with "Obsessive Compulsive Disorder", which I know is a somewhat common disorder.. many people that I know have it to some degree. \
As a young girl, I became very scared of germs and would also struggle with frightening thoughts that just would not leave me alone due to the disorder.
I had to see a shrink; and she gave me some great advice on how to push the thoughts aside and let them vanish. So the disorder died down for a while.
We are sure that my anorexia issues were a branch of that disorder, hitting me at the age of 14.
Again, I was sent to a shrink. This time, I was also put into medical treatment.
After a rough year of recovery, that died down as well.
Recently, the OCD has been attacking me again.
And I won't lie: these past few weeks have been quite gloomy for me.
I've questioned things, I've struggled with thoughts that I knew weren't really from my right mind, and I've tried to ignore it all.
Here's the thing. Life isn't always a ray of sunshine and a beautiful song.
On a drive home recently, I expressed openly to the Lord that this felt like "being drenched in black paint"; like I was smothered in a darkness that I couldn't just shake off.
And sometimes life is like that. Because we cannot create joy.
Also, we do not choose the occurances of our lifetime.
I recently had the priviledge of praying with a family that was struggling with the hardship of a family member facing cancer.
I looked into the eyes of the girl who was asking for prayer. She couldn't have been more than ten years old.. but her eyes didn't express fear. I could see a hope in her like I've never seen in someone so young.
Like she believed with everything in her that the Lord was in control, and He would take care of her family member.
And she is so right to believe that!!
Now I'm wondering what it would be like to have a faith like that. Unquestioned and confident.
It truly is a childlike faith! That is what we're called to have, even in the scariest of struggles.
I'm still a little shaky myself, it's like I'm in a recovery process, again. And just now, I'm coming to realize that maybe I am. It's time for me to trust that the Lord is watching my every move, He knows my every heartbeat, my every breath.
And He loves me bigger than I could ever comprehend. Praise His Name!
He is true and real and the One we ought to seek our entire lives,
to trust in when the going gets tough.
And when the going stays tough for what seems like forever.
I've been struck many times by the lyrics of a song that I've been hearing on the radio.
They go like this:
Even when my eyes are dry,
even when my soul is tired,
even when my hands are heavy,
I will lift them up to you.
It's not about how I feel,
Oh, Lord, I am here for You.
I exist for You.