Thou art with me.

"...you're going to be so strong after all of this!"

I stared up at the moon as we gripped the curves of the dark road. My brother continued to calm me as we continued this irrational conversation.

Stronger.

At the time, I felt strong. In my mind there were no limits to what God could do through me. They say that people's true colors come out when they are under the influence... well, when your mind is pressed hard enough, there is also a certain transparency to your being.

There was, what I believed, a threat to my family and nothing was going to come in between me and them that night. I was enjoying the day with them one moment, and the next fear crept in. The next few days I fought a battle in my head.

Those three days were the longest of my life.

My mind was stretched in ways that I cannot explain. The amount of stress that I bore, I cannot again. And I could go into detail about each hour of my mind unwinding in insanity, but that is not the purpose of this post...

Some write to express in words what they cannot form with their lips, with a certain eloquence that builds as they unravel the layers from a tangled mystery.

Some write to declare with great joy the delight and beauty found in life.

I write to do the same, to slow down as I tread water and remember to breathe. Then, to turn back to the shore and shout, "the water's just fine, jump right in!"

I write with hopes that you will read that despite great difficulties, the journey is indeed a grand one.


"I don't believe you've brought me this far to leave me."




I was holding on to the moment that supernatural power would come; that strength that would outlast the storms... and it did come. I began to trust in God, that He would bring down every wall.

And He did.

But then I found that I would start to sink... and in my sinking,

I forgot to breathe.

I forgot to cling to the One I knew would make me strong, and practice the things He taught me.

But in His grace, He showed me that He was taking me somewhere new.

The nest had become a little too comfortable.

And it was time. Time to FLY.

This time as I looked back, I saw Jesus. So many days spent aching from the thought that maybe He had abandoned me. I used to wonder why He didn't sweep in and rescue me, when He did... He just didn't come when I thought He would. But He was always there... quieting me with His love.

I heard a mother tell a story of her child that was rushed to the emergency room. She said the doctors told her she had two tasks and asked if she could do them. One was to hold the child's head still during a scan and the other was to keep talking to him. She agreed, without a second thought. And as the child fought to keep with her, she spoke into his eyes with love.

As she told that story, I was taken back to the time I was in the hospital.

I awoke to a dark room. My eyes could not even stay open, but I cried out:
"Jesus. Jesus. Jesus."

And He was there. Holding me still. Lessening the pain.

I used to think maybe he had abandoned me in that moment, but I see now that I was crying out for Him as He was in the room with me.  Though I was in a struggle to find peace and keep conscious, He was there comforting me:
"Hold on. I'm here child! Child, I'm here."

Stronger.

"After all of this you're going to be so strong."

The paramedic said as she helped me onto the gurney. Little reminders that He never left me. His voice carried through words of encouragement.

Ye, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death...
I will not fear.
For thou art with me.