AJ and a LATTE

I can’t breathe! The waves are crashing down and the waters are so rough. I have lost the top. No air left in my lungs.  The ache of loss within me is excruciating. The pain of no air in my lungs is tearing through me. Which way is up? Where is my rescue? NO! I can do this myself! I try to cry out only to have my pleas swallowed and more waves pound down into my soul. My mouth is filled with the brine of desperation. I see a hand! NO! I can do it! Help is within reach but I cannot force my own hand to reach up and grasp… I’m fading. I try to reach and can just touch the fingers, but… I let go…

It isn’t water. It is overwhelm. It is sadness. It is grief. It is worry. It is the knowledge that help is one hand away and all I have to do is grasp it. Yet I insist on doing it myself. I insist on fighting the waves of anxiety alone. I cry out and He reaches down, but I am ashamed that I have allowed it to get this far before crying out to him. My pride has allowed me freedom, but not the freedom He wishes for me. He offers me the freedom from my worries. I grasp the freedom to wallow in them. Shame washes over like herculean waves because all I have to do is grasp His hand. I don’t deserve it. I haven’t earned it. Yet he reaches down. Why can’t I just grab hold and receive what He so freely offers? 

I have always been a worrier.  I was born a little adult and due to life circumstances out of my control was encouraged to embrace that role. Having the soul of a little grown up, God gifted me with the knowledge that I was His favorite ME.  I never had that “revelation” moment because He gave me a little bit of Divine Insight to help me through some very long nights of loneliness and fear. As I have grown into more mature adulthood, I have clung to Him knowing that I never have to fight any battle alone. The older I have gotten, the more I see that I abuse this gift more than I accept it. He has been so faithful and still I try to fight my “little battles” before I bother the King. Why do I forget that I am His favorite Anna Jo and there is always time for me? Why do I insist on getting myself into peril before I seek the palm of the Father? Pride. 

Today I fell prostrate at His feet. I did grasp that hand that reached out to me. And just as I thought I couldn’t hold on any more, He grabbed me. I am not lost. I am not drowning. He breathed into me to give me a new day. He toweled off my anxiety. He wiped my brow of worry.  He wrapped me in His arms and held me without a word. I am not alone. “Cry little AJ. Let it out. Release every little ounce of bile produced by the traumas of earthly life. The enemy tried to hold you down, but My hand is stronger than his heel.”  The sense of doom lifted just a little and I felt sweet breath in my lungs. The air was different. Since I cried out to Him it is lighter. It is fresh. I no longer feel the yoke of burden weighing on my shoulders. Are all of my worries met? No. Are all of my concerns resolved? No. Does my friend still have cancer? Yes.  Do I still have some anxiety and panic? Honestly, yes. Am I still concerned for my loved ones and their burdens? Yes.  But all of these things look so different through the glow of Jesus robes wrapped around me. I do not fight a war of flesh and blood but one of supernatural power. I fight an enemy who spreads shame on me like he is buttering toast to feed his greedy, grotesque belly.  I fight a war on my knees. When I fight alone I drown.  When I fight with the veil of the Father as my cloak, I have a strength beyond human comprehension. 

This morning as I prayed, I admitted that I had allowed my pride (satan’s butter) to cover me as I had tried to carry my burdens alone. Even the small ones (like productivity at school) had been beyond my reach. As I talked to my Father and let Him know I am weak and undeserving of His hand, He wrapped me in His peace and reminded me that “my yoke is easy and my burden is light” (Matthew 11:30)  Now I need to live my day under the cloak of a risen King as His favorite me, not under the stink of an enemy who has my destruction at heart. I rise above the heel of the one who holds me under and serve a great God who does not take my burdens away, but He walks with me through the fires to prove He is the Way, the Truth, and the Life.  

I often tease that God knew the hot mess he created when He made me. Though I tease, it is true. He made me a force. I am not “important” in the eyes of society in that I am not of celebrity status, but I am visible and definitely heard in my sphere of influence. He made me a force that will use that very small platform to make big waves. I just occasionally have to be reminded that He will help me through them so I don’t drown.  I am a force and He is my power.

Until next time…