Where I've Been

I'm sitting alone in my room on a cloudy day in February. The house is quiet, just the sound of an occasional passing car and the hum of Tommy's computer. In the silence I give thanks to the Father above for seeing me through the emotional tornado of the last five weeks. Since the beginning of the year I have been in low places I thought I would never see again and high places I wished I could stay in. It has been an emotional journey that I hope I don't have to take again any time soon.
It started on New Year's Day. Our church was going to be fasting but I was getting a head start on things. I spent the first day of the year in prayer and worship without eating. There were so many needs in my family and in my friends lives that needed to be addressed. I brought those things before the Lord with fervency and hope for things to change. As I sat in my dining room, alone in the middle of the day and thought about these things, knowing that I was in some serious spiritual warfare I had the thought that Satan didn't like where I was and where I was headed. Taking back territory for the kingdom of God. I knew he would be on the attack.
The second day of the year started out pretty much the same. I dropped the kids off at school and came home and hung out in front of the heater, praying, worshiping, again, not eating. At three PM I went to pick up my son from school. He mentioned that his best friend had been in a fight over the weekend and hadn't come to school today. He had texted him just before I picked him up and related the conversation to me. At home I went about my usual activities, cleaning house, preparing dinner, etc. At about nine PM, my son appeared in my doorway, completely distraught with tears, hysteria, and grief. He sat down in the chair next to my bed and spoke the words that tore a devastating path through our hearts and lives. "Jon hung himself." he said. He's DEAD.
I recognized immediately the work of the enemy. I knew the attack had come. I did my best to comfort and counsel my son and his friends over the next few days and weeks, but I was at a loss, having never had to deal with anything of this sort ever before. Nothing I could do could make the pain any less for my son.
I continued to pray and fast over the next few days, knowing now the need was greater than ever.  We went to the funeral and I watched my son carry his friend's casket to burial. It almost broke my heart.
When we got home, overwhelmed by sadness I just sat in my dining room and did nothing. For days afterward I did nothing all day except sit with my head in my hands and cry. I don't think I had ever felt such sorrow.
My son went back to school and life went on but the mantle of sadness I wore just got heavier and heavier. Some days I felt like I could barely make it through the day. Our finances were tanked out. My marriage was suffering, Tommy and I were fighting all the time, and I don't mean little arguments, I mean I wanted to leave and if it wasn't for the fact that I had nowhere to go I would have left and never come back. In the middle of this I watched our bank account slide from low to negative and then to really, really negative and had no way to amend that situation until payday came around, more than a week away.
During this time I prayed. I prayed and prayed and prayed but I felt like there was a glass ceiling between God and myself. My prayers came falling back down on me unanswered, unheard, I thought. I lost all motivation to clean my house, just doing the minimum to get by, the dishes and laundry and occasionally vacuuming. I lost the motivation to go to church, mainly because I had heard some people gossiping and it made me very angry and because (being honest here) I didn't like some of the changes that had been recently made there. I found myself in a low, low place. Once I even looked at my dog and burst into tears because he is getting old. I was on the verge of tears always.
Then I got sick and stayed in bed for a week. I was physically and spiritually depleted and felt like my sanity was hanging by a thread.
 One day I woke up and I didn't want to live anymore. I didn't want to die, I just didn't want to go on. I was in a spiritual battle for my very life and found myself very much alone. I spent the whole day crying. I told the Lord that morning that I was at the bottom of the well and the bucket was coming up empty.
I decided to go to the prayer group the next morning, so I quelled the tears and got in my car and drove over. We went over the prayer needs and then began to pray. Marty began to pray over me. Her words were stunning, she began to talk about the woman at the well (WOW!) and she began to rebuke the spirit of depression. I literally felt it leave me. I left that place in a completely different state than I had come in. I went home in peace. Motivation to live returned. I finally had enough energy to put away the Christmas tree and take down all the decorations around the house. It felt like spring, the weather was unseasonably warm had been since before Christmas. The sun shone every day, my heart was light.
One day though, I felt myself sinking into a funk. The sadness was coming down on me so I decided I needed some worship music. I turned on youtube and pulled up Matthew Ward. Psalm 61 began to play and as I closed my eyes and heard the words I literally felt the encircling wings of the Holy Spirit surround me. It was like my shields had come up and Satan was rebuffed.  I felt the sadness go away, was unable to feel sorrow anymore, only peace.
Some things I learned: Feelings don't matter. I didn't feel like I was "the apple of God's eye", on the contrary, I felt very abandoned, as if God had left me. The truth is that no matter what my feelings were, God never left me, His word says "I will never leave you or forsake you" and that is the bottom line. When your feelings don't line up with the Word of God, don't go with the feelings, bank on the Word. Can't go wrong there. His word (in Isaiah) says "Behold I have engraved you upon the palms of my hands". You don't forget things that are engraved on your hands.
Sometimes you don't have to do anything wrong to be under spiritual attack. I knew I hadn't sinned, hadn't walked away from God, could not understand why this dark shroud was surrounding me. Marty saw it, as soon as I walked into the prayer meeting she told me she saw a dark cloud over my head. Sometimes it's when you are doing something right that you end up under spiritual attack.
You need people to pray with you. Being out there on your own is no good. There is strength in numbers.
Worship is essential. It is that "armor" that you need. Without it you are vulnerable to Satan's attacks. You can have a ritual of reading the Bible, and even praying and still be dead inside. But when you close your eyes and lift your hands and begin to worship the Lord something happens, something comes alive in you that is indescribable. Life is restored. You cannot truly worship the Lord and remain dead inside, for one thing, if your eyes are on the Lord, they are not on yourself. Sometimes you just need to get your eyes off yourself and your situation and look at the bigger picture. That picture is that God is still on the throne.
Also, God's timing is not our own. Sometimes all we can do it wait. The Bible says "My times are in your hands". Sometimes you just have to rest in that while you wait for God to act.
I don't know why the Lord allowed me to walk through this dark valley, that isn't clear yet. But looking back I can see places where He appeared, little blessings that spoke of His care, such as in the midst of the financial crisis, my daughter was having a birthday and I didn't even have enough to buy her a cake mix. On that day, unexpectedly we received a thank you card from TXU for 123 dollars and I was able to provide her with a nice birthday.
Also, a huge blessing was that at the beginning of the year some of my relationships that had been faltering were restored. That was a specific answer to some of those prayers I was praying when I was fasting and what is hopefully the first of many good changes to come as a result of those prayers and God's goodness and mercy.
I leave you with Psalm 61 sung by Matthew Ward. Hear my cry Oh, God, give heed to my prayer, from the ends of the Earth I call to thee when my heart is faint...lead me to the rock that is higher than I. For thou hast been a refuge for me and a tower of strength against the enemy...And let me dwell in thy tents forever...