Two Year Birth - In So Many Ways

Two years ago, Hunter appeared.  Healthy, whole and in the midst of much turmoil making its way to the surface.
When I think back over these last two years, there is no joy except what I had in Jesus Christ.  And most days had me crying out to Him, "How long, O Lord?"
How long for this confusion?  This separation?  This loneliness?  This desolation?

I won't even touch on the physical brutality that awaited me after birthing my fourth child two weeks after his due date.
Emotionally, I was battered.  Bruised.  Limping.  Barely hanging on; it was days that turned into weeks that turned into months where the waves kept coming.

Confessions.  Separation.  Shame, distrust, fear. Confusion.

But God, in His mercy; in His unending, overflowing, pulling-me-in-steadfast love, was prying my hands away from the things and ideas I held so dear to.  Those things I thought satisfied.  Those things I thought gave my life meaning.

Seeing what God was doing during a very black time is still hard for me to fathom.  But I do know this: I am His and He is mine and I would not trade that for anything.
Not the financial ruin, not the hospitalization, not the hidden addictions, not the realization that I had come to the end of myself, not the painful loss of friends, not the hurt and despair that drove me to realize I was either all in or all out.

The moment where I opened my hands, became Abraham, telling myself I didn't understand but I did trust in Him and His goodness even if it meant death.  Most days, that was all I had - - His Word assuring me He was for me and it was best to trust in Him no matter that I didn't feel it.

In the midst, I only had His promises to exist on. Now in hindsight, I can actually see the fulfillment of those promises.

Grateful that He didn't leave me to find my way.  Thankful, humbly so, that He guides me, gives life to me and sustains me.  May I ever be so dependent on Him.

Psalm 30:2 and 5
O Lord my God, I cried to you for help, and you have healed me.
Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes with the morning.