The Lord Will Take Me Up

Some of you who know me personally know that I had an interesting summer.  A lot happened, but among the things that happened, I lost one of my friends.  They didn't die, but they stopped being my friend.
Unfortunately, the friend I lost was my stepdad.  I've never had a good relationship with my biological father, and he's been gone for 18 years, so chances of ever gaining a good relationship with him are...well...impossible on this earth.  And sadly, due to his lifestyle, probably in heaven as well.
When I lost him as my friend, it broke my heart.  In this situation, I had done nothing wrong, and I say that with full confidence.  I am the one who was wronged.  And I spent the better part of the summer trying to mend the relationship before I had to back out and protect myself.
There were a lot of questions...mostly pinning his hurtful behavior onto myself, blaming myself.  I wanted to know why I still didn't deserve to have a loving father.  I wanted to know what I did wrong.  I wanted to know why things like this always seem happen with the men in my life, even (sometimes especially) the men in the church.
One day I sat at work, having a particularly rough day, fighting tears.  I just wanted to be loved.  I wanted my parents, my mom and my stepdad.  And I felt so alone.  Abandoned.  Again.  Abandonment is something I'll touch on a lot on this blog...because it's something I feel so raw and deeply.
Then out of the blue, a verse that I didn't remember ever reading popped into my mind.

“When my father and my mother forsake me, then the Lord will take me up.” — Psalm 27:10 KJV

"For my father and my mother have forsaken me, but the Lord will take me in." — Psalm 27:10 ESV

"Even if my father and mother abandon me, the Lord will hold me close." — Psalm 27:10 NLT

I've included three different versions of this verse, because each one is so deeply intimate even in different wording.
When it was my lunch break, I looked up the verse, to make sure that it wasn't a product of my deranged mind...and it wasn't.  It was this verse (in the KJV, because that's what I've grown up with).  And it brought me so much comfort that I wept, and wrote in my Bible Notebook.
This is what I wrote:

"He will take me up.  Up in his arms like a little child.  His arms around me in a big embrace, face nuzzling and tickling my neck.  He will take me up in his arms and wipe my tears away.  I am a little child, my heart broken.  And he takes me up.  Safe.  Close to his heart.
 "He is my father.  He takes me up.  He holds me with arms big enough to hold all things together, yet small enough I'm in no danger of falling.
"The Lord will take me up.  My God, my king, my savior.  He will take me up.  He will be my father.
"He will take me up.  His treasured princess.  I am forsaken...  But I am not left alone and destitute...because The Lord takes me up."

I felt myself wrapped in his arms when I read that verse.
And I still do.
I feel it in the solace I've found with my aunt.  Something I may not have found again had this not happened.  I feel it in the hugs and kisses of my sweet Sharon at church.  I feel it when my dear friend Linda listens to me ramble, and hugs me, and cares, even when/if she disagrees.
I feel the Lord's arms around me in the love I find from those at my church.  The most loving church I've ever known.
Not everyone at church knows what I've gone through during my life.  Not everyone knows what I've done and gone through this summer.  They don't need to know.  They love me regardless.
I want to call out everyone from church who has encouraged me.  I want to write their names in big, bold letters...but to do that, to call out everyone who has encouraged me and made me to know that the Lord has taken me up, taken me in, and held me close, I would need the church directory (for correct spellings), and at least 1,000 more words.
Dear church family, you have been a balm to my aching, wearing, broken and scared soul.  If you are reading this, I adore you.  If you aren't, I still adore you, you'll just have to rely on my hugs and anything I say to you in person to get that across, instead of reading it here.
I'm not fatherless.  I'm not an orphan.
I am God's daughter.
And he has taken me up, taken me in, and holds me close.  I know I am loved, wanted and cherished.

Ephesians 3:20-21

I run a Facebook group dedicated to mental health and recovery, and from this group has sprang up a few different group chats.  One of them is a Bible Study group chat, where we can all share the verses that are speaking to us at the moment and have theological discussion.
My aunt is a part of the group and she almost always, every morning, drops a Bible verse in the Bible Study group chat.  I usually read it, feel happy, go about my day, sometimes respond.  But, this morning after she did that, I was reading through one of my reading plans on the YouVersion Bible app (it has the Katie recommended seal of approval), and came across Ephesians 3:20-21.

(Picture generated by YouVersion Bible app, verse is KJV)

I shared that image in the group chat, and left it.
But, the best part about group chats is that there are other people in them, who can offer their input.  And my aunt did.

"I've prayed this verse so many times and it didn't happen like I thought I would... So I got to thinking that maybe God doesn't always give us more than we ask if we don't take care of what He does give us...

So I've been trying to make that right and take care of what I have...

Now, I wonder if I just don't really believe this deep down... I know God promises our needs as well, and so I trust that promise... And He has never failed to follow through.

But since I feel like I just now have a good handle with what He has given, I don't know that I fully believe He will give more than I ask or think..."

Sometimes verses like Ephesians 3:20-21 are turned into prosperity gospel.  The idea that if we give xyz to God, then he'll pour back into us more than we can imagine...which isn't exactly false.  But when this verse is discussed, it's almost always about the physical.  If we give our time to God, he'll give us money.  If we give our money to God, he'll give us stuff.  If we give our service to God, he'll give us MORE money and stuff.
Maybe we have it wrong what he's going to pour out to us.
He promises to supply all of our needs.

“But my God shall supply all your need according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus.” — Philippians 4:19 KJV

But is what we need more stuff?
It's nice, I gotta admit.  I enjoy my stuff.  Please do not take any of my 200 (didn't actually count them) stuffed animals.  Most of them have names and are special.  Please don't take my books or video games, or movies.  I like my stuff.
Money is very nice.  A little to fall back on in case of an emergency.  A nice savings account.  Being able to go out with friends and pick up the check and the tip.  Being able to buy that cool thing at Walmart without checking the price.  Splurging on beef sticks.  Buying the ever expensive, but always delicious beef jerky.
But is it really what we need?
There are Christians in countries that aren't the USA who are being tortured, killed, beheaded, and imprisoned.  Just because they're Christians who refuse to renounce Christ.  They don't have stuff.  And if we believe stuff is our need, then God isn't supplying all their need.  So...God must be lying.
But.  My God isn't a liar.
I've quoted this verse in almost every post I've made on this blog...because it is one of my favorites.

"...be content with such things as ye have: for he hath said, I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.” — Hebrews 13:5b

Be content with what you have.  Why?  Because God is not going to leave us or forsake us.  He is all we need.  God supplies us with himself.  With his grace, and mercy, peace that passes understanding.

"And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus." — Philippians 4:7 KJV

And besides just supplying us with himself, he takes care and interest into our lives and our wants, and our physical needs.

“Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? And why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? Therefore do not be anxious, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all." — Matthew 6:25-32 ESV

He knows we have these physical needs.  He cares about us, and he cares about our needs.  I've never gone without clothing.  Even when I was growing up, and thought we weren't going to have food to eat, God always supplied the food.  I didn't starve.
But, at the end of the day, our biggest need is him.  Our only lasting need, is him.
That's why, to me, Hebrews 13:5b is so important.  It covers more than just one thing.  It covers my abandonment issues (written about here).  And it reminds me to be content with what I have...even if all I have is God.
Our lives on earth are so short.  But they aren't meaningless.  In the vastness of the universe, we are smaller than a speck of dust, and dust is smaller still.  Yet the maker of the universe, the creator of all that is, takes an interest in us, and loves us.  Not because we're worthy of his love, but because...because he just does.  There is no logical reason why God should love us.  Left to our own devices, the worst of us murder, rape, and torture, and the best of us tend to wind up bitter about one thing or another, and what good we do wind up doing takes a lot of work and effort.

 "Teach us to realize the brevity of life, so that we may grow in wisdom." — Psalm 90:12 NLT

"...yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes." — James 4:14 ESV

 Yet despite our inconsequentialness and self-centeredness, God takes interest in us and loves us.  The thing is, like my friend Linda (another lady within the group) said, God sees the big picture.  We don't.  We barely even see what's right in front of us.

"For now we see through a glass, darkly..." — I Corinthians 13:12a.

Something else my friend Linda said was:

"God gives us what we need when we need it. Our finite imagination can't fathom what He can do. It also doesn't fully comprehend the difference between our wants and our needs. "

I've been told that I have a big imagination.  I can imagine...a lot, both good and bad. But Linda's right.  I can't imagine all that God can do.  I can't imagine a world without pain and suffering...I can't imagine heaven.
What she ended her message with was this:

"Part of being a good steward is accepting what He gives us and being content because we know He has our eternal best interest in mind."

My aunt replied (I'm paraphrasing) that sometimes later down the road, we see that what God gave us was better than what we wanted, whined about, cried over, and asked for.
I cried over my ex.  I wanted to marry him.  I wanted a life with him.  But had I married him, it would have been a horribly lonely, unfulfilling marriage.  We would have been at each other's throats.  I didn't see it at the time, though.  I saw his potential.  But potential is not who a person is.
I asked God to let what was best happen, and begged for what was best to be my relationship mending and being restored. But what wound up happening was that we broke up (maybe I'll write a fuller post about that at some point in time).  And it didn't feel like what was the best.
But things are better now...because I don't have what I thought I needed and wanted.  Because, surprise surprise, the one who made everything knew better than I did.
God can do above and beyond what we could ever ask or think.  And sometimes what he does, doesn't entail giving us what we want.  Because he's above and beyond us.  Beyond our very understanding.

"My thoughts are nothing like your thoughts,” says the Lord.  And my ways are far beyond anything you could imagine." — Isaiah 55:8 NLT

And that's okay.  Because this:

""For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope."" — Jeremiah 29:11 NLT

And this:

"And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose." — Romans 8:28 KJV

Things may not go the way we think they ought to.  And we may not get everything we want or think we need.  We may not be blessed abundantly with stuff and money.  And that's okay.  We are blessed with God.

Singing on the Mound

This is a post directly related to my previous post, Psalm 13.  I promised to share a testimony of a time I praised God despite struggling with my mental illnesses, and this is that testimony.  I've previously shared it in a few different group chats and Facebook groups I'm a part of, so you may have heard the skeleton of this story already.
This was very early in December, and I was fighting anxiety something fierce.  One of my friends was going through a rough time and not talking much, so I was worried about them, but in addition to that, I was also having panic attacks almost all day, every day.
I would get up and have crippling anxiety.  Go to work.  Have more anxiety.  Have lunch.  Have a side of anxiety.  No matter what I did, it was anxiety.
I kept up with my Bible reading plans, but they didn't help anything.  One night, I opened my Bible and turned to Psalms, hoping to find some comfort, but found that I couldn't even read it, so I just curled up on my bed, holding my Bible in my arms, crying and trying to pray.  I definitely clung to Romans 8:26 that night.

"Likewise the Spirit also helpeth our infirmities: for we know not what we should pray for as we ought: but the Spirit itself maketh intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered." — Romans 8:26 KJV

Finally, it got so bad on Wednesday, that I decided if I didn't feel better after lunch, I was going to go home, because I wasn't able to give myself to the kiddos the way they needed and deserved (I work at a school in a support position).  For me to willingly take off work is saying a lot.  I don't take off work.  I can't afford to, and I feel like a bum most of the time when I do, even when I'm sick.
I explained roughly to my supervising teacher that I wasn't physically sick, but the anxiety was so bad I couldn't breathe.  She was so understanding, and sent me home, telling me that I have sick days for a reason, and it's okay to take them.
On the way home, I came to the corner that would take me to the mound.
The mound is a park sort of place in my town.  It's literally a big hill with a park on top.  There are hiking trails, and a path to drive up.  At the very top is something we call the lookout.  It's just a cement platform raised up high enough that you can see the entire city.  It's a beautiful place to go, and probably my favorite place in my town (aside from my own house).
So, I drove up there.  I hadn't eaten lunch yet.
I just sat in front of the lookout for a bit, then decided on Sonic for lunch.  So I went to get my lunch and came back.  I tried to feed a cat that I saw.  It...did not like hot dogs.  But it was a sweet cat and I loved it.
I tried to pray a bit.  It was still hard.  I was still anxious.  I was still worried about my friend.
Finally, I got out of my car, and climbed up to the lookout.
I love to sing, and always have.  I have a hymn book app on my phone, so I opened it up, and began singing every hymn from it that I knew, whether it was one I preferred or not.  I don't remember if I prayed while I sang or not.  But I offered myself up to God, despite that I could barely breathe.
I didn't realize how loud I was singing, or that anyone could hear me.  I love to sing, but I get nervous when people catch me singing.  I'm okay with performing (though I'm nervous then, too).  I'm fine with breaking out into song with friends and family.  But for someone to just catch me singing...it makes me nervous.
After about an hour, I felt so much better.  There was so much peace.  This doesn't always, or frequently happen, but this time, praising God when I couldn't breathe turned out that he took my anxiety away that time.
But the story isn't over.
I got back in my car, and was just sitting there reading my Bible...I think I was in Psalms again.
This big, white, SUV van thing drives up the mound.  Not uncommon.  Others had driven up and down the mound that day.  But then they drove right up next to my car, where I was sitting with the window rolled down.
A Mennonite lady gets out, and walks over to my car.  "Are you the one who was singing?"
Seeing as I could not see myself, I can only imagine that my eyes got big when she asked that.  And I go, "Yes, I didn't know anyone could hear me!" (Thank you Mr. Miller for teaching me how to project...)
She told me she'd been working in her yard when she heard me.  Her little boy had been singing back to me, but of course I couldn't hear him.  She also told me that she'd been blessed by my singing.
Guys!  This is big!  And beautiful!  And...I am still blown away by it.
I was suffering that day.  I was struggling and suffering, and couldn't breathe.  I was hurting.  Yet I poured out myself to God.  I told him how I felt, and then I praised him anyway.
My pain led to another woman being blessed.  My choice to praise God even when I was in pain led to another woman being blessed.  And learning that I had blessed her, in turn blessed me.
And if she heard me...others probably did, too.  Including that truck that just sat there up on the mound for 2-3 hours....  I don't know how many people I accidentally blessed.
When you are hurting, and in pain, your reaction to your suffering can be an amazing blessing and example to others.  When you praise God despite suffering, you're also being like Job (see the book of Job), who lost everything, yet still chose to follow God, and praise him, and didn't reject him because of the suffering he was allowed to go through.
When you praise God despite your suffering, sometimes he will absolutely take your suffering away.  And sometimes he doesn't.  And that's okay.  You are an example to others by the way you live your life.  When you praise God, despite your suffering, you are telling Satan that he's still not winning.  That even when he throws things at you (whether directly, as in the case of Job, or because of the fall) he cannot take away your love and praise to a good God who loves you more than you can imagine.
AND
You're telling others that you serve a God bigger than your suffering, and that you refuse to allow your suffering to pull you away from him.

Psalm 13

I love the Psalms.  Ever since I was a child, Psalm 56 was my favorite Psalm, with the third verse being my favorite.

"What time I am afraid, I will trust in thee." — Psalm 56:3 KJV

This is partially because I was a very scared child.  I was scared a lot, about a lot of things.  I cannot count how many times I chanted this verse to myself because I was afraid.  As an adult, I'm still afraid of...well, to be honest, quite a bit.  However, I also know that I have God's protection over me, and that gives peace within the fear.  Maybe someday he will completely take my fears away.  But even if he doesn't, he is still God.
As I grew older, the Psalms became more and more important to me, as anxiety and depression really hit and, faced with no resources, I had to try to figure out my own coping mechanisms, hoping they were healthy ones.
Reading the Psalms didn't always take away my depression or anxiety (most of the time it didn't), but something that it did do, was encourage me that I was not alone.  There were others, giants in the Bible, DAVID himself, a man after God's own heart, who struggled.
I specifically remember one evening, my freshman year of high school, when I was hit with a horrible depression attack.  Possibly anxiety and panic as well, but I didn't have a name for those feelings yet.  I didn't find a name for those feelings until I was...around 16, I think.  I just remember the depression.
I put on my rollerblades (a healthy coping mechanism I had was to rollerblade around the town!), and rolled myself to church, along with my little red Bible (which is now worn out and somewhat retired because it was falling apart).
The church was always unlocked, and I had permission from the pastor to go in and play piano, virtually whenever I wanted, which was nice.
I don't remember if I played piano.  But I do remember that I sat on the front pew, all alone, and cried.  I remember opening my Bible and reading a Psalm.  Psalm 13.  I must have also taken a notebook, because I went through and tried to paraphrase it.
Here's the original:

"How long wilt thou forget me, O Lord? for ever? how long wilt thou hide thy face from me?

How long shall I take counsel in my soul, having sorrow in my heart daily? how long shall mine enemy be exalted over me?

Consider and hear me, O Lord my God: lighten mine eyes, lest I sleep the sleep of death;

Lest mine enemy say, I have prevailed against him; and those that trouble me rejoice when I am moved.

But I have trusted in thy mercy; my heart shall rejoice in thy salvation. 

I will sing unto the Lord, because he hath dealt bountifully with me." — Psalm 13 KJV

This is what I wrote:

"How long before I can feel you?  How long before I can see you, God?  Forever?  How long will I be trapped in my mind?  And be depressed everyday?  How long will they be over me and oppress me?  Please hear me, God!  Cheer me up before my thoughts run away with me, and I commit suicide.  Don't let my enemies beat me down and be happy when I cry."

And then I stopped.  I couldn't write the rest.  In my mind, the author (most likely David) went to God and then suddenly felt better, so he was rejoicing.  No more depression!  But I was still depressed.  And I didn't feel like rejoicing.
Later, when I was cheerier, I was able to write the ending.

"But I trust you, and I'm glad, because you've saved me.  I will sing to you, because you've saved me."

But as I've gotten older, I realized something.  The author of Psalm 13 was probably still depressed when they wrote the ending.
"What?  But look how cheerful he sounds!"
Yeah, I know.  That's what I thought when I was young and struggling to paraphrase the end because I didn't feel it.
The end of Psalm 13 is the author following the instruction that wasn't even written yet in I Peter 5:7.

"Casting all your care upon him; for he careth for you." — I Peter 5:7

The author went to God, and poured out their feelings and emotions.  They poured out their fears and anxieties to God.  We don't need to be sanitary with God.  It's okay to tell him and show him the raw fear and pain and anxiety you're feeling.  He wants us to do that.  Those are our cares, and he cares about us.
But in the end, the author finished by telling God he was going to trust him.  The author finished by rejoicing in the promises he had from God.  The author finished by reminding himself and God that God had dealt bountifully with him in the past.  If God dealt bountifully in the past, why would he stop now or in the future?
When we are faced with depression and anxiety, we should feel free to fall upon God and pour out the sorrow.  And then?  Even within the sorrow, we make the choice to remind ourselves of the good God has done to us and given us in the past.  Write it down, pray it to God, make a "thankful list".   That's a good and healthy coping mechanism.
Will worshipping God in the pain always or immediately take away the depression or anxiety?  No, not always.  Sometimes it can.  But it doesn't always.
Sometimes it feels like going to the doctor and getting a shot, even though you're terrified of shots, and hate them, and would rather do almost anything in the world other than get the stupid shot (hello, me).  But you know that the shot is going to help you get better.
Sometimes it's hard to tell God you trust him when the anxiety makes you feel like you're upsetting everyone and everyone hates you.  Sometimes it's hard to tell God you know he loves you, when your head knows he loves you, but your heart is clouded by depression and you feel like no one loves you.
The author of Psalm 13 had a relationship with God.  A deep one, where he felt free to go to God with his pain.  A relationship where he knew, even when he didn't feel, that God was good, and loving, and caring.  So, when he was finished telling God how he felt, he told God what he knew.
Even when we are depressed and anxious, God loves us and he cares.  We can rely on his promises that he will not leave us, that he cares for us.  And we can pray those promises back to him.  Not because he has forgotten his promises, but to remind us of his promises.  We can sing praises to him.  Not always because we're happy (read the story of Paul and Silas singing in prison in Acts 16), but because even when we're struggling or hurting, God is still God, and God still cares.
I'll be writing up a testimony type post about a time when I was struggling and did turn my struggle back into a worship for God, and was blessed amazingly, then edit this so you can find it, but if I tried to add it now, it would be too long.
Here it is: Singing on the Mound