Hold On To Me
The years 2018–2019 would turn out to be the hardest years of my life. They were harder than year after year of infertility and miscarriages. They were harder than the years of caring for three toddlers. They were even harder than accepting my youngest child’s terminal diagnosis.
All of those things I could accept easier because it was between God and me. Did I believe what I said I believed? I did. And I clung to him tighter and tighter.
But 2018–2019 turned me inside out because it was damage and heartache between me and God’s people — or people who claimed to love and follow my same God.
I asked God lots of questions. Who are these people? Are they yours? Why are they so unlike you?
Where is love, truth, kindness, integrity?
Those were the years that I realized I had been lied to, cheated on, misused, and abused in my marriage for over 20 years. Those were the years that self-proclaimed Christians tried to keep me bound, silent, and beholden so that I wouldn’t threaten their money and their power.
When I had to reckon with the actions of others, spiritually and tangibly, I had to look them in the face, but that also meant momentarily turning away from looking at God to look in the other direction, because that’s where they were operating.
