The power of 7 days

You know, I still find it amazing how much of a difference one week makes. I also find it amazing how contingent our feels are in regards to our situations regardless of the truth we know.

So, if you have followed my blog recently, I’ve been struggling a lot. 2012 has been one of the most challenging years for me to date. I have felt like everything around me, any semblance of security, anything, has been shattered around me. I have talked with friends who have tried to prove that not everything has fallen apart; however, each time they walk away shocked. This year has been a constant valley, like I’ve not known in my 26 years. I have had good moments interspersed in my year, moments that cling to and relive countless times to get me through. However, they are short lived and usually followed by another shoe dropping. I have felt very alone and the silence has been deafening. I have had some friends and acquaintances want to help, but when you are in a dark place, thoughtful well wishes at times hurt more than help, which brings me to last week.

Two of my favorite people, Bart and Hunter, have created a new small group. I was very excited about this for many reasons. One reason being that they are opposite personalities and blend well together which will bring about a very diverse group of people who feel comfortable and get a sense of belonging. Another reason is that I love the heart of these two men. For their age (I say it like 5 years is a lifetime), they are extremely mature and have both experienced a varied degree of struggles that they have used to minister to the people around them in a beautiful way. However, one of the key reasons I was excited about this group though, is that these two men have also not given up on me. I have seen them love me this past year when I felt like no one even noticed I was in the room. At various times, one of them has made an effort to find out how I’m doing and encouraged me when I was in some of my darkest moments. Those times, they will never know, impacted me and were some of the good moments that I shared earlier. So, upon hearing about this groups start, I knew I had to be a part somehow. Little did I know that after my first week there, I saw my first true breakthrough from the dark clouds that have followed me around.

I did not want to go to the group last week. I was in my dark place and the last thing I wanted to do was be around people. I have found that it is easier to stay in my hole than interact with people, because the amount of effort it took to put on a “happy” face was more than I had in me. However, I had told Bart that I was going and TK (my friend in town from Zimbabwe) was planning on going. So I went. It was fine over all. Pleasantries were exchanged and I met a few new people. All in all, it was what I expected. We dove into the first little bit of Acts 1, I engaged in some of the discussion, and then it was time for prayer requests. If you have grown up in church and/or gone to bible studies, it was the standard format. As people shared I did what I have done all year and just mentioned a quick, “Please pray for me because I’m going through a challenging time right now.” This is usually met with a simple “okay, we’ll pray for you” and then move on to the next prayer, but this time it was different. Bart looked at me and asked if I wanted to share a little bit of what was going on. I looked around, truly shocked, because someone actually wanted to know about the dark hole. I thought he was kidding at first, but as I looked around the room, the seven other people were gently nodding an affirmative “yes” that they wanted me to share about my struggles. I was shocked. Had it been anyone but Bart and Hunter, I probably would not have shared, but I have never questioned their love and affection for me as their friend so I shared. I didn’t go into all of it, because it would take way too much time, but the things that were weighing heavy on my heart in that moment. And lo and behold, no one judged me or threw the bible down my throat. I have a church background, so I was expecting the typical quoting of Romans 8:28, a brief “I’ll pray for you” and the condescending “poor girl” glance with no real emotion behind it. (Isn’t it sad that as a believer, I still expect the same response within the church as an unbeliever does?) This time, however, I was met with one girl looking at me and saying that she’d been right where I was a few months prior and she knows no words will help, but wants to be there physically for me so I don’t feel alone and that it is ok for me to feel this way. Another girl said that she knew the struggle I felt in one area and she wants to meet to share some ways to “soften the blow” of other peoples actions that hurt so deeply. One man shared a part of his story and how he was in the same dark place and simple said, “yeah, it sucks.” It brought about the first real response I had heard. I didn’t need “Christian-eeze” or someone telling me that I don’t believe the gospel, so if I would just believe the gospel life would be back to rainbows and butterflies. (Ok, someone didn’t say those words, but that is how I heard it when portions of that sentence were told to me.) I know the heady answers, I know the steps to take, but I needed someone to love me where I am, when those steps don’t “fix” things and calculated responses to “love God more” didn’t make my dark hole any better. I was told that it was okay to be where I am and that, yes, my dark hole does suck. I didn’t need people to try to pull me out of my hole, I just needed people to recognize that I was in a hole and sit with me until I was renewed in strength to start climbing again. It was the most remarkable picture of Christ I have probably ever seen. It was the one time I felt like the church was being the church. It was the first time in a long time, I truly felt loved by the body of Christ, and not a single scripture verse was shared. I’m telling you, it was extraordinary.

As if that wasn’t enough, the days to follow dumbfounded me. Every single person in that group who had my phone number ended up texting me and thanking me for being vulnerable and sharing with the group where I was. I was told by people how thankful they were that I was in the group. I was told that I was loved and cared for and safe within this group. I was told that I was not alone. There was follow up. I know it seems simple, but it made me realize that their love was not a onetime moment in the home of a friend, but that I was truly loved by these people, some of which I had only met that night. It has produced more healing in my soul that I have had in so long. I went back last night and during the prayer time, I was asked to share follow up of how this week had been and various people asked specifics on some of them.

I was told by TK that last night he saw the “old Amber” show up. He shared how encouraged he was to see me around a group that made me feel so free to be me, flaws and all. Last night was one of the most enjoyable moments with a group of people I have had all year. I’m not “done” and everything isn’t fixed over night, but for the first time in a long time, I have hope. For the first time in a long time, I am excited about the future with this group. I finally feel like the light I’m starting to see if the sun after a really long, dark tunnel and not another train coming to smack me again.