What do you do?

Just what do you do if it is two weeks out from your mom’s latest release from the state-run mental hospital and she’s already not med-compliant?  What do you do when you realize that you are a 35-year-old woman who is already in the “sandwich generation” but yet, there’s no sandwich because you’re not married and don’t have kids yet? What do you do with that ton of emotional bricks? What do you do when you think you’ve FINALLY gotten over all your past mistakes, yet find yourself tempted to travel down those same lonesome paths again?

If you’re me, you run. Oh, it doesn’t look like running. It looks like asking for counsel from trusted friends.  Running looks a lot like prayer (even though, it’s just mostly selfish talking at God). It looks like investing yourself in the lives of others. Running looks like running yourself ragged instead of facing your fears.

If you’re me, your dear friends are God’s mouthpiece. They allow you to spill your guts, and then with a gentleness that only God could show through them, rebuke you for your disobedience. They also encourage you to speak up and hold on tight to God. They post Scripture that God gives them FOR you. They pray for and with you. They love you – because in loving you they also love God.

And then, because God is good and He hears your half-prayers, He sees your struggle. He begins to show you phrases like “trust” and “obedience” and “my story” over and over again. God begins to weave little pieces of His plan together, and you see it.

You see, “God will fight the battle for you.”

And, you see, “Trust God from the bottom of your heart; don’t try to figure out everything on your own. Listen for God’s voice in everything you do, everywhere you go; he’s the one who will keep you on track.”

And, you hear, "Your love never fails, it never gives up, it never runs out on me ..."

Because you can’t stand the heartbreak anymore, what you do is fall flat on your face on your best friend’s living room floor and weep. Weep for breaking God’s heart. Weep for time lost. Weep for yourself and all that you grieve. Weep for joy because you feel the presence of God and you know that His love really never fails, gives up, or runs out on you.

Finally, you tell your story.  You start small. You tell a friend. And, then another …  

And when you least expect it, a voice whispers to your heart, “Confess your faults one to another … that you may be healed.”

So, what do you do? You let the healing begin.