Breathe!

We serve a God who can breathe life into dry bones.

Let that sink in for a moment.

One year ago today I was at Red Rocks Amphitheater with my husband's family watching Chris Tomlin on his Burning Lights tour. I didn't want to be there. I was tired. Nervous. Far from God. I had just been approached a few days prior by a concerned friend who was afraid I was suffering from postpartum depression (I found out a few weeks later she was right). As I sat in Red Rocks watching the people around me, I wondered how many of them felt like I did - like they were pretending. It didn't feel like a place where I could really worship.

My heart was hard. My emotions unmoving. I was uncomfortable and felt out of place. I knew I was loved by God. I knew I loved God. But I wanted to go home. Get into bed. Tomlin opened with "God's Great Dance Floor." I couldn't move. I just stood there. Stood because I "had to." Then "Awake My Soul" played. Most of it washed over me until Lacrae started in with the scripture. Ezekiel's vision of dry bones coming back to life. "Conjure the four winds of breath and breathe!" Suddenly there were the words "Awake! Awake! Awake my soul; God resurrect these bones." And my heart broke. The tears fell. I still cry when I hear "BREATHE!" on that album.

When the next song played I listened, I sang, I prayed "It will be my joy to say Your will, Your way....There's no life apart from You." Then "Indescribable" reminded me of the God I serve and "White Flag" and "Sovereign" helped me pray my surrender. By the end of the concert (Louie Giglio spoke and there were more songs to which I sang my heart out), I knew I wasn't healed, I knew I had a long road to walk, but I knew I wouldn't be alone in the journey. I was reminded of this great and magnificent God I serve. He loves me, sees me, draws me to Him even when I am blank and blocking the world out.

After I had my daughter, I stopped caring about anything. I stopped noticing the world and the people around me. I didn't notice I was doing it, either, because I'm not even sure I noticed myself. I was just trying to survive. But God had me in the palm of His hand. He was watching over me and my husband and my daughter. He kept me from doing anything rash and loved us all through it. Then He gave me a gift. A big, loud, bright, crazy gift. His Holy Spirit sweeping through thousands of His people, burning in my ears, my heart, and my soul.

I am still healing from years of apathy and attempted perfection's scars on my life. But this path of healing I have been on started on May 4, 2013. Three days after a friend said, "Carey, I'm worried about you." God was right there with the words I needed to hear. He was right there with the people I needed. He was right there holding me, and He still is. He led me to my counselor, He flew with me to fish camp in Alaska, He guides my hand as I journal, He urges me to love and serve and see people again. All of these things have been part of the healing journey. God hears my cries and answers my prayers. He knows my fears and cradles me in His everlasting arms. He has led me to teachers and scriptures and conferences and Bible studies and passions I never knew I had.

I am so thankful for this Great Prodigal God who runs to me and embraces me. As we sang this morning in church, "Never once did we ever walk alone. Never once did you leave us on our own. You are faithful. God, You are faithful." Amen! Thank You, Lord, for Your faithfulness and breathing life back into these dry bones.

Tomlin, Chris. Burning Lights. Sparrow (Universal), 2013.

Clear skies ahead

I cry when I watch Frozen. Not during the scenes you'd expect. It has little to do with loss or joy or any of those other reasons. I don't cry because of the weak plot devices. I cry because I relate. To Elsa. In the Ice Palace right after Anna has informed her sister that their home is cursed by an eternal winter, Elsa sings "Oh I am such a fool! I can't be free! No escape from the storm inside of me." And the tears just come. I can't stop them. Because I know that storm. The storm of fear that rages in me and keeps me from my full potential.

Elsa fears herself, her powers, and hurting those she loves. But what she can't see is that her fear makes her powers dangerous. It controls them. When she runs away from everything, further isolating herself, she thinks she is free. Suddenly her full potential is clear to her because she isn't afraid of hurting anyone. But this is a false sense of security created by running from her fear and consequently her responsibility. She realizes her mistake when Anna finds her. While she begins to rage against herself once again, her sister is telling her they can face everything together. She sings, "we can work this out together. We'll reverse the storm you've made." Though Anna is speaking of the literal snowstorm, the parallel to the "raging storm inside" Elsa, a storm she created through her isolation and fear, is profound. This storm, too, can be reversed when they work together - through love.

Can't we all relate to Elsa? Any sin that entangles us we can get rid of them in artificial, ineffective ways. Then we realize it didn't actually work. It is only when we turn to Love - God - to save us that we become truly free. Men and women weighed down by illness or depression have days when the ice palace is being built and the storm seems to have some purpose and then they realize they aren't truly free from it and the storm rages again.

Like Elsa we keep things cooped up inside because we are afraid of breaking that "perfect" persona that we feel we are supposed to communicate to others. The temptation is to run from responsibility, not face our fears. We are powerful beyond belief, but we allow our fears and our insecurities to keep us from fully reaching that potential. The answer is not running, but rather facing and conquering. We can only do that with God.

Fear is my greatest enemy. I had a friend ask me last week what holds me back from writing. I think there are two things. One is the fear of admitting truth about myself I don't like - will I be understood? will anyone care? Reject? etc. Sometimes I even wonder if I can handle the truth about myself. The second is the feeling that I have nothing to share that anyone would care to read. I may think it's profound or a big deal, but they will all shrug their shoulders and think "What's the big deal?"

Without trust there is isolation. We have to trust others with our stories. We have to trust ourselves. We need people we can trust to help us understand our own potential. Just because we make a mistake doesn't mean we have to quit or despair. We learn, we grow, we change. We need others to help us see clearly. We all need someone else to live for.

Love. Trust. Live. For the good of others. To the glory of God.

This post is a part of a One Word 365 community, Trusting Tuesdays! Have your own One Word? Link up to your most recent post every third Tuesday of the month!