Faith is knowing without needing to question, believing without needing to see, and trusting without needing to worry.
For most of my adult life, I struggled with anorexia, alcohol, and anxiety. Over-exercising, starving, drowning my guilt and shame in wine, I fled from myself over and over again. I was afraid to look in the mirror; afraid to stop long enough to question my choices and my behaviors. I was never willing to part fully with my demons. My mind told me I was beyond salvation and my soul was broken enough to believe it.
What changed for me was not so much an epiphany as it was a complete bottoming out. I was tired. Soul-deep, bone-crushingly weary. I wanted off the merry-go-round. Out of the fun house. Away from the carnival of madness that had become my life. I didn’t know if stepping off that cliff would land me in hell or save me from destruction, I just knew that I no longer had the will to hold on.
My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.
2 Corinthians 12:9
I could not have been weaker. Not physically, mentally, or spiritually weaker than I was the moment I finally let go. Three decades of guilt, shame, and self-destruction fell with me. I was drowning in it. Instead of fighting the current, I sank below it. Instead of fearing the depths, I welcomed them.
And that’s when I felt Him. In the ocean of my despair, I felt His presence. Not a blinding light in the darkness, or a resounding call from the deep, but a gentle whisper. A quiet beckoning to my soul. I wasn’t expecting it, but I heard it nonetheless. And I followed it. I sank into its offer of peace.
Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.
Matthew 11:28.
And I finally rested.
I cannot describe fully the transformation that occurred within me. And perhaps I’m not meant to. Perhaps my task is simply to live it humbly and faithfully as it was granted unto me. And what was granted to me was knowing.
Knowing that I am His child. I have always been His child. I will always be His child. He never left me.
Not when I turned away from Him. Not when I ran ahead of Him. Not even when I failed over and over again to heed His word. It took all my darkness to see His light. All my failures to finally surrender to His strength. It took dying, not physically, but to myself and to this world for me to finally rest fully in the safety of His arms.
In my darkest moments,
He was there.
When hope had fled,
He was there.
When my strength was waning,
He was there.
When my soul cried out,
He was there.
When my heart was breaking,
He was there.
When shame overwhelmed me,
He was there.
When I could go no further,
He was there.
When my eyes finally opened,
He was there.
He was there to fight for me.
There to lift me.
There to shelter me.
There to forgive me.
He was there with gentleness.
There with compassion.
There with assurance.
With grace unending.
For He’d been waiting.
Patiently waiting.
For me to need Him.
For me to see Him.
For me to know Him.
For me to trust Him.
And He took my weakness,
gathered my transgressions,
replaced my brokenness,
with His blessed healing.
He called me daughter,
stretched His arms out to me,
and with love unending,
mercy unfailing,
He pulled me from the water.
JN Fenwick (© 2018-2022)