Ever since the start of Masters, I've gradually witness my strength, vigor, and life itself go down the drain. The strain of juggling a full time job, masters, church ministries, wedding prep, marriage, and other life changes all at once took a toll on me, but still I was constantly on the move, looking to the next thing to do and to do it to the best of my abilities.
Then the pregnancy happened, and it was a bout of new hope. Something fresh in my life, like a nice reward after a long season of hardwork and stress. Days after that were tough, and finally the miscarriage happened. For once in my life, I stopped. It was as though my life stopped, even though in reality I knew the world was still spinning on its axis, time was still flying, life was still changing. But for me, life stopped. I stopped.
Soon after, I looked around and people were watching to see how I was coping, some looked with criticisms, some looked with concern, some looked with confusion. And I got up and did what I knew to do - the next thing and do it well.
Somehow I still felt... and still am feeling... empty. I thought that it was the spot baby once occupied. But the sting felt really bad. I've never felt so empty, never felt so dissatisfied, never felt this... weak. I still break down and cry at the littlest things, and juggling work, masters, marriage, and ministry has become tonnes harder than it used to be.
My students have noticed that I've been moodier, my husband has noticed that I pick fights more, and the intensity of our arguments have increased.
Last week I broke down in a pool of tears, at first it was the memory of the ultrasound that brought the tears, then it went deeper... I just felt so alone and so lost. No amount of tears could ease the pain, nothing would make it go away.
I held on to God all this time. I prayed, I cried out to Him, in my desperation I did all I knew how to do. Still nothing.
Last Sunday during worship, we sang Paul Baloche's Your Name. It said, "Your name, is a strong and mighty tower, Your name is a shelter like no other... cause nothing has the power to save but Your name. Then I saw myself desperately holding on to a strong and mighty tower, as though I was holding on to dear life. Then a voice asked why I was holding on to the tower and not going in to the tower. So, maybe I've been holding on to head knowledge of my God instead of experiencing Him. Maybe that's why I haven't been hearing Him, because I've been outside the tower. I asked Him how do I get into the tower... I had no clue how, and I left it as that.
Tonight, another argument broke loose. I don't know who started it, but I know I fueled it. Now I sit reflecting, and I see my ugliness in every corner. How could a person who declared God's grace turn into something so ugly? As this song played on a loop, I got my answer, I had to first let go of my tower before I could enter into it. I had to let go of my hopes, let go of my fears, let go of my own resolve, let go or my own solutions, let go of my head knowledge, let go of everything that defined me. Total trust and total obedience was required of me.
I've heard of total trust and total obedience before... But when I actually stood at the door and read the prerequisites - trust and obedience, fear gripped. Letting go of all these meant letting go of me, letting go of everything I know, letting go of my status quo.
But still He gently beckonds... My name is a strong and mighty tower, My name is a shelter like no other, nothing has the power to save but My name...
Nothing has the power to save but Your name.
I don't have the power to save.
