I was introduced to God at a very young age or rather God introduced himself to me at a very young age. I cannot even remember how old I was, I can only remember that my mom used to sit my twin brother and me down and tell us about Jesus. She would tell us about accepting Jesus as Lord and Savior, I remember this one Sunday my brother was sick, so it was only my mom and me who went to church, there was an alter call and I went forward and accepted Jesus as my Lord and Savior. I was so happy not because I understood what had just happened but only because I did this thing my mom always told us about and I couldn't wait to get home and tell my brother. I remember he was so sad after I told him and he couldn't wait for the next Sunday so he can also accept Jesus, yeah, we were those twins growing up.
I grew up calling myself a born-again child of God, not that I even understood what that meant at the time, but it was what my mom said. This meant God has always been a part of my life from childhood. Even when my struggles began God was the only one, I could count on, even at the time I felt rejected by him (read https://maspokana.wixsite.com/livingwithdepression/post/church-and-depression) he was still the one I turned to. It doesn't make sense right, who runs to the same person they feel rejected by? I did, I knew of no other God I could pray to and trust. He was still the only one I had, the only hope my mom ever told me about. However, when I started falling apart at the beginning of 2020, I was very angry at God. I did not understand why he had to let me suffer that much, I believed he could make things okay whenever he wanted to, but he did not, and I just didn't get it. I was going through the most and I felt like he was just watching and doing nothing about it.
I was so angry, and I didn't want to hear anyone telling me what the Bible says or telling me about God. I didn't want to read my Bible or even pray, why should I pray? I've been praying all my life and I was now even running out of things to say. I’ve cried, I’ve begged, I’ve pleaded and now I was just done. I’m grateful to God for my husband who respected and did not dismiss my feelings even though I’m pretty sure he wanted to preach to me, but he did not. He allowed me to feel what I was feeling, he would validate my feelings and tell me it was okay.
However, God works in miraculous ways. It was only when I started going for therapy that I got to understand why God had to let me fall apart, that I got to realize how broken and messed up I was. All these years I was struggling, and I had no idea why, I didn't know I was depressed, had no idea how much my bad childhood experiences had messed me up. I needed to heal, and I had to fall apart for that to happen. God had to let me break and fall apart so he can build me up, so he can mend me, and heal me. if God hadn't allowed me to break, I wouldn't have known that I needed help, I would still be struggling and battling demons I do not know. I was so excited when I realized this and I felt so loved by God, God cared for me after all, he came through for me.
Now, this is not to say my problems are over, healing takes time, but I take comfort in knowing that God has me. Whenever I feel overwhelmed, I remember the song of Moses and Miriam in Exodus 15 and remind myself of who God is. He is a man of war, a mighty warrior, he fights my battles. Whenever I feel like the world is out to get me, I always remember that it will never get me because my life is hidden with Christ in God. Whenever I feel exhausted of coping and surviving, I remind myself that I don't even have to cope or survive because in him I LIVE (not cope/survive) in him I move and have my being. He walks before me to fight my battles, he is my hope in my darkest days, my hope for tomorrow, my comfort, my joy, my peace, and in Him I am safe, in Him I live and move and have my being.
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