But I think I prefer to use the word "trampled" because it wasn't a one-time hit, it was a repeated knocked down, get back up, knocked down, stand back up, knocked down, climb back up. By the end I was exhausted and drained. Part of me just wanted to stay down, give in, give up.
Yet I knew I couldn't do that. I knew that I couldn't let this win. I knew that I had to have victory in this because Christ already had the victory for me. And let me tell you, I claimed that victory every single morning. I could not step into those 4 walls without claiming that victory, praying loudly for strong warring angels to battle for me, protect me, provide me with wisdom and grace and courage. Each morning I claimed the promise that "I have not been given a spirit of fear but of power, love and a sound mind". Yes!!! (2 Tim 1:7).
I have said in previous posts that I was exactly where God wanted me to be, and I do firmly believe that. In fact, I'm not sure how someone without the power of the almighty God on their side could have survived, and that leads me to repeatedly and consistently point to that power as the only reason I actually walked out on June 30th on my own two feet, with both my mind and my reputation in tact.
I might have felt emotionless, flat, indifferent, but I was also able to feel the flicker of life still within me, the faint flame that God himself put there and would not - will not - let the enemy extinguish. For that, I am very thankful.
It has taken me all summer to recover. I am now staring September right in the face and am mustering all the courage and strength that I can to face that reality again. Because I heard and listened to the lies that I was no good at my job, that I can't handle this, that I will never be creative enough, strong enough, firm enough, compassionate enough, organized enough.
Excuse me Amy, but your insecurities are showing.
Yeah, I know. That's what happens when you feel trampled. You feel no good.
You feel pain more than pleasure,
you feel discouraged more than determined,
you feel confused more than confident.
All the things I was not doing seemed to smack me in the face and yell at me that I was a failure. I felt like a failure in ministry and in relationships, two areas which are very important to me. Even though I knew down deep that this (my) job was now to be my ministry, I was still really, really torn by my lack of ability to connect at my church. I felt disconnected, alone, friendless, unable to help or influence those who even tried, and it hurt...a lot. I was invited to be part of a Bible study and I couldn't for the life of me figure out why I was asked because I was hearing that I was no good, that I had nothing to add to this group, that I was too tired and worn out and worthless.
I felt trampled. It was hard, and it hurt to get back up.
Failure breeds discontentment, and that was exactly what was happening to my heart. Failure blurred my vision to seeing all that God was using me for and doing through me. Failure made me think that I was not enough, that I was letting other people down, that I would never measure up. Failure made me believe that where I was wasn't good enough, that doing this hard thing that God had called me to was not really a good thing at all, it was just hard and frustrating and made me feel small and insignificant. I was discontent with where God had placed me because of what I thought I wasn't doing.
BUT God is gracious. He slowly and consistently breathed life back into my being. He lifted my head to see His face. He held out his strong hand and tenderly and gently pulled my trampled body and soul close to his. His body which was also trampled and beaten and flogged and scarred - for me - rescued me once again. He touched my aching and broken pieces and is in the process of putting me back together.
One step at a time.
And in the quiet of my soul, I am reminded of all I am and all I can do through Him who gives me strength.
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