Misguided Yesterdays - Day 12 of 30

Something hit me this morning, an idea, I mean.

I realized that while I am pecking away at this keyboard trying to share some of this thirty days of conversational prayer experience with you, I'm not sure that I've ever explained what drove me to this place of recognizing that something in my life needed to change and that maybe, just maybe, I needed to put some real focus on the verb, prayer.

Since moving to Florida some six years ago, I've felt a bit out of sorts.  Lots of memories, family and friends left behind in the northwest suburbs of Chicago, but honestly, they'd been somewhat left behind long before we headed south.

Life had just about beat me down prior to our move.  I had been involved in quite a few exciting opportunities that ended up being filled with pain rather than the anticipated reward.

In one incident a very dear friend who was going through a particularly trying time in her life had gotten angry with me and told me that she had thought I understood pain since I had lost my son and everything, but obviously, I didn't.

Those words had been completely unexpected because she was one person who had stood by my side, all along the way, throughout the months of sickness and loss of my Ryan.  I had failed in my efforts to be there for her in her situation and honestly, what hurt me the most was not that I had failed her but that she had mentioned Ryan in that way.  I tried to make it that it hurt me most that I had failed her, but that was just a lie I had told myself because that was much easier to sort out than the truth of what really hurt.  I selectively packed those painful words up in my trunk and moved them to the Sunshine State.

Another painful thing that happened was when it had been suggested that my volunteer serving at church was for the purpose of getting my name up in lights, so to speak.   I had only been at the church for a short time and because doors had been opening for me that hadn't opened so quickly for others, disgruntled voices started to murmur and the once wide opened doors quickly slammed shut.  It was as if everything good in my life began toppling over like the effect of the first fallen domino towards that long and winding unprotected row of dominoes.

Add this interpersonal and church life stuff to the fact that my husband and I were self employed in an industry that, in our experience, seemed to have suffered greatly after 911. Budgets were tightened and the dollars for artwork became fewer and far between. Making ends meet became nearly impossible.

So, life being as disheveled as it had been, upside down and totally stressed, when an offer to relocate came - Joe and I grabbed the rope and started to climb.

Our home sold in one day.  We found our new Florida home in just one day.  Obviously, we were suppose to make the move, or so we thought  as these events happened so effortlessly we took them as some kind of sign.

To my dismay,  I now see that all of that pain that I thought we had left safely behind us had somehow slipped into the boxes of too much stuff that we had loaded into the moving van.   Joe and I thought we were simply leaving the old and welcoming the new with open arms, but really, we were running while dragging it all with us, every single hurt and disappointment clung to our tired bones.

You can't run away from the hurts in life - you just can't.  Hurts in life don't follow you, they ride safely, day in and day out, in the depths of your heart.  Until you let them go, once and for all, they are like cancer. Left unidentified and intact, hurts of the past destroy.

Dear God.  I am so grateful for this day because you have led my heart to share the hurt of the past so that I can finally set myself free.  I never, ever recognized how much the past had been holding me back until just now.  Sometimes I guess this somewhat bright woman can be a little dim.  Sorry it took me so long.

I know that I just touched on the tip of the iceberg regarding the mammoth size snowball of discouraging events that rolled over my family and I prior to our move to Florida, but you know every detail.  Not only do you know every detail, you alone have the power to see my sadness, love me anyhow and stand me back on my determined feet again.   Because I am recognizing my need for you and telling you how I feel and how I need your help to move forward, you will hear my cry and answer me.

Yesterday is  thankfully over and this new day belongs to you. Thank you for the sunrise that marks the start of a new beginning, again and again, day after day.  Thanks for the springtime - even down here in this warm weather climate, the freshness of spring can practically be tasted, if feels that promising - it restores my hope.

“Hear my cry, O Lord; attend unto my prayer.  From the ends of the Earth, will I cry unto Thee, for when my heart is overwhelmed; lead me to the rock that is higher than I.  For Thou has been a shelter for me, and a strong tower from the enemy.”  Psalms 61: 1-3


Here's a fitting song...
It's beautiful... give it a listen and get your heart moving.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OnGYZC7_ReU