Well, I had the best birthday ever! On Sunday, the day of my previous post, a miracle happened. It was a miracle that restored me, renewed me, inspired me and humbled me. It was beautiful. It was just for me, from God. For my birthday. :)
My miracle came in the form of humans. A couple I know, who are active in various recovery programs, who live near me, responded with love to my quite desperate plea for help. They came over and listened and talked and helped me remember that I am a human and not a freak. They helped me remember the nature of God- that He doesn't want me to suffer, that he doesn't take pleasure in my pain. God is not a punitive God, even when I want Him to be! He is merciful, and He loves to be merciful. And, He loves to be merciful with me. They helped me gain a better understanding that addiction is truly a disease. They were so matter-of-fact, yet so compassionate-- a combination I need and appreciate.
Well, this couple was just what I needed. I'm so grateful for them. I knew they would be kind, but I didn't anticipate that they'd help answer so many prayers.
The husband offered to give me a blessing. Yes, please. I feel like the details are too special to share publicly. But, how it restored faith! How it renewed my heavy heart! Afterward, I felt forgiven, empowered, and so very, very peaceful. I felt remembered by my Heavenly Father. I felt acknowledged.
The next day, my birthday, the wife brought me a God Box. Have you heard about a God Box? Essentially, it's a box that you shut and you write something on a piece of paper that you want to give to God. The box represents God. You put the paper in the box through a slit on top. It's a physical symbol of Step 3, really. It's so good because it helps me SEE my commitment. And it helps me remember "Oh, yeah, I gave that to God already."
Here's my God Box!
It's all taped up to represent that once I give it to God, I need to let it stay with God.
I decided I needed to put something in the box. At least one thing. And I couldn't think of anything I was ready to give Him! Everything I could think of, I wanted to keep control of. Finally, I decided on something: My shift bid at work.
Every 6 months, my job does shift bids. Every employee has to participate. If you are ranked high, you'll get what shift you want. If you're not ranked high, you most likely won't, unless you happen to want a late shift. The early shifts go first. Well, even though I'm tempted to talk about the injustice of the ranking system (because there's a lot more to it than I've implied), I'll just say that it's really not fair to new employees. However, I anticipated that I would get something decent, based on the information I had been given in training.
Anyway, I wrote down "shift bid" on a piece of paper, folded it up, and put it in my God Box. I felt ready to give it to God and stop worrying about it. And every time I wanted to worry, I reminded myself that God will handle it. It's out of my hands. I can do nothing to change what the outcome will be.
Then today happened, and I found out what my shift will be. Everything I wanted was already gone. Nothing I wanted was still available. The information I'd been given in training was incorrect. I was given the option between crappy and crappier and I chose crappy.
As a single mother of two young kids who are in school but aren't quite old enough to stay home alone more than a few hours, it's imperative, in my view, that I have a good, early shift.
So much for giving it to God! I was so angry. How could He do this to me? He could have made it work out, somehow, for me to have a better shift. He didn't. He messed up here, surely. What's the point of turning my life over to God if He's just going to ruin it? I could have done a better job of this, surely (yeah, right, like I ever had any power here). Well, I figuratively took that slip of paper right out of my box, after I promised it to God.
I panicked.
It wasn't fair.
Like it's easy being a single mom with a great work shift, you know? I mean, it's already so hard. It's already so hard for my innocent kids. And now this?
God is amazing, though. All through my stages of panic (I even cried at work in front of coworkers when they asked me what shift I got. It just happened! Embarrassing!), He whispered to my heart. Finally, when I shut up my pride and let the legitimate grief live without my interpretation of it, I heard His whispers:
You can give this back to me.
I'm still in charge.
I will not hurt you, or your family.
I am still here.
It will all be okay.
Trust me.
And I remembered that God, my Father, does not delight in my suffering. And it occurred to me that giving my life to God doesn't mean that my life will be constantly sprinkled with fairy dust. No. It simply means that I have an ally through the hard times. It means I have someone to fight my battles for me, or with me, whatever the circumstance calls for. It means that I don't need to worry or fear. Letting go and letting God doesn't put me on the easy path. What kind of a God would protect me from all hardships? Letting go and letting God means I stop trying to fight, and win, alone.
I am at peace now. The shift does bring me sorrow. But, I am choosing to trust. A lot can happen in a month. Who knows what miracles God has up His sleeve for me in that time? Maybe I'll miraculously get another shift- you never know! Maybe not. Maybe I and my children will miraculously gain the strength to make it through another hard time.
I trust Him. I trust Him because I know His character. I see what He's already done with me, and it's amazing. About work, I am letting go, and letting God.
