Choose // Chapter 3
Everything was different. Everything had changed.
The tears that had been caught in the dam of my iron will burst forth and flooded my pillow. Grief and anguish consumed me. I surrendered to their force and I poured myself out in tears. I turned myself inside out as great sobs shook my whole frame. I don't know how long that lasted. An eternity probably.
And then my body began to melt. The tears began to dry, not because they were no longer needed but because they were used up. Gone. I had ravaged my entire supply. All was quiet and still. And that is when the enemy crept into my room and tried to violate me in ways that send a shiver up my spine.
This is your fault.
Of course your husband would cheat on you. Look at you…
You are unlovable.
You are ugly and overweight.
You failed and you are a failure.
You are easy to discard.
You aren't enough.
And you never, ever will be.
My head pounded under the assault. I felt like I needed to vomit. I was drowning.
"JESUS"
That's the only word that I could force out. There was no time to think about how I felt about God in that moment. I’m sure I wasn’t feeling very loved by Him as those tears ravaged my body—how could I when my life had shattered only hours before in the wake of my husband’s unfaithfulness being exposed? I did not preface that cry with praise or adoration. I didn’t clean up my heart before Him first. I just cried out—like a child lost in the waves, tumbling, smashing against the sea floor—completely and utterly desperate:
“JESUS”
Praise God, it's the only word, only Name, I needed. His name is a strong tower. The righteous run to it and they are safe (Proverbs 18:10).
He burst in with light and rescue. He saved me. He covered me. He was my Refuge. My Safe Place. He tenderly tucked me in under the shadow of His wings (Psalm 91:4) And in that moment He gave me a choice.
CHOOSE in this moment whose voice you're going to listen to. In all the moments ahead you have a choice:
Listen to the liar, the deceiver and you will stumble and lose your way. A bitter root will spring up and overshadow your life.
Or.
Listen to Me, to my Truth and you will thrive in safety, love and protection.
I knew the way of Jesus was the only safe way forward. I had to CHOOSE to believe His Word—in that moment, it was my lifeline. It was no longer words on a page in a book I read each morning. It was life and light and rescue and hope.
So I surrendered to Him. I chose to listen to His voice above the lies. And that decision changed everything. The entire trajectory of my story changed. I shudder to think where I could have ended up. I chose to believe Jesus and that has made all the difference. Like Peter, I came to know from experience these words: “Lord, to whom will we go? You have the words of eternal life” (John 6:68).
I made the hard choice in that moment to worship my Rescuer. It wasn’t a happy, joy-filled moment of worship. It was the kind of worship from the barrenness of soul that you see in the Psalms. It was desperate worship. A sacrifice of praise. I was empty and ravaged but I had experienced safety and rescue from Jesus. Where else could I go? He had the words of eternal life. I had nothing. He had everything. And He was worthy of my praise.
Though the fig tree should not blossom,
nor fruit be on the vines,
the produce of the olive fail
and the fields yield no food,
the flock be cut off from the fold
and there be no herd in the stalls,
yet I will rejoice in the Lord;
I will take joy in the God of my salvation.
-Habakkuk 3:17-18
Even though death surrounded me I could CHOOSE to lift up my eyes. Through no strength of my own—I was literally on empty—that's exactly what I did. All it took was a glance. One glance upwards to Jesus. And it changed everything. I reached for my phone and turned on the only song that seemed appropriate that night...
Take this fainted heart
Take these tainted hands
Wash me in your love
Come like grace again
I'll praise you
Even when I have no song
I'll praise you
Even when it's hard to find the words
Louder then
I'll sing your praise
Take these ocean tears
Hold me through the trial
Come like hope again
I'll praise you
Even when it hurts like hell
I'll praise you
Even when it makes no sense to sing
Louder then I'll sing your praise...
(Even When It Hurts by Hillsong United)
And as it played, I breathed out honest prayers—prayers that were my sacrifice of praise. I didn't understand what was happening. I had one million questions and no answers. God, how could this be good for me? For my children? I hated everything that had happened that day. I hated my enemy. I hated my husband (could I say that to God?) I maybe even hated God (yes, I even said THAT to Him). I was brutally honest, but the point is that I took it all to Him. He says, “Come to Me, all who are weary and overburdened and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28).
Praise isn’t always joyful. It’s not always singing with awe in our minds and peace on our lips. In fact, it often doesn’t even include singing. Sometimes praise looks like making the hard choice to believe that God really is who He says He is. Faith is believing what we can’t see. In that moment I couldn’t see that God was good. But I knew He was. I knew because He had been good to me all my days. Would I accept Him as good only if my life lined up as good? Sometimes praise looks like limping to Jesus and unloading our burdens at His feet—allowing Him to be our Burden Bearer. Praise from an aching, empty, broken heart is beautiful to Him. A contrite heart He will not despise (Psalm 51:17). A bruised reed He will not break and a smoldering wick He will not put out (Isaiah 42:3). Sometimes praising God looks like running to Him for shelter when the storm is about to take you down. Sometimes it looks like reaching a hand up for rescue when you are drowning in the waves. Often it’s as simple as lifting up our eyes to the hills, knowing He is where our help is from (Psalm 121). Worship is not hard, but it can be costly when offered from a place of barrenness and loss. But our worship—no matter how small and weak it might feel—is always received, welcomed and not despised. Worship is a choice. It’s always a choice.
As my eyelids finally started to get heavy and the weight of the day fell over me in a blanket of exhaustion, my Burden Bearer held me and absorbed it all—my questions, my ache, my anger towards Him, my broken and honest praise. He carried me off to sleep that night, safe in His arms. He was Comforter (2 Corinthians 1:3). He was my Prince of Peace (Isaiah 9:6). I wasn't alone after all. I was being held together by my Husband (Colossians 1:17). My perfect Husband whose faithful love towards me was eternal (Isaiah 54:5). He held onto me that night in a profound way, and that grip has not lessened one single jot in the last five years. He is before all things and in Him all things (ALL things) hold together (Colossians 1:17). Amen.
TO BE CONTINUED…
**Maybe you are also in a place where you feel completely hopeless? While the writing of my story is going chapter by chapter, I would like to fast forward you today to the most glorious ending. Hopelessness doesn’t have the final say when Jesus steps in to the story…
