A relative believes that I moved here outside of God’s will, and that many troubles stemmed from that.  How could I explain that some of the things I’ve gone through were necessary in a way, for me to grow and reach out in new ways?  How can I explain that God met me here, thousands of miles from “home?”  But the conflict in our beliefs has always been a thorn.  Was I wrong?  Were the blessings in Clarksville nullified because of half the reasons I moved?

I’ve spent so much time over fifteen years looking at this question of knowing God’s will and making decisions through prayer and seeking His best path (I want His best, not my better).  I’ve done word searches and read both Old and New Testament in search of the answers.  One verse keeps coming to mind:

“The lot is cast into the lap, but its every decision is from the Lord.”  Proverbs 16:33, NIV

The lot is  cast into the lap, but the decision is wholly of the Lord [even the events that seem accidental are really ordered by Him].”  Proverbs 16:33, Amplified

I’ve known people who believe God is limited and that our free will can destroy our lives.  The more I think about it and pray about it, the more comfortable I am with the idea that God, who knew me before my birth and knew every decision I would make and action I would take before I was born, is more than capable of meeting me whenever I find myself looking around, lost.  All I have to do is look up, and there He is.

There are consequences to our actions and we live in a world that is fallen and unrighteous.  We can make poor decisions, but isn’t God big enough to turn the effects of those decisions for good in terms of spiritual growth, a tender spirit, and dependence on Him?

Having the pertinent facts of my case, it comes down to your belief in wills…His and ours.  Can we always know our decision is divinely ordained?  Most of us will be blessed to experience it a handful of times in our lives.  Must we always feel our decision is an unmitigated risk?

I don’t think so.

I don’t think we can limit God.  People will do things we don’t agree with, and some of those things will stick like a burr for years (I’m not talking crime, here, just daily living).  How we cope with the decisions of others will also depend on what we believe about wills.

We do stupid things.  God called us sheep, the furthest thing from a compliment, and sheep we are.  It is comforting to know that He knew what I was going to do before I did it, and that He was waiting to not only help me through the consequences, but would use them to refine and improve the lump of clay that I am.

This isn’t the naive position you might think it is.  We have a responsibility to make sound decisions with God’s laws in mind.  We bear the burden of our actions and choices.

On the other hand, God promised us that nothing would separate Him from His children.  Not even our own stupidity.

Bankruptcy, Texas, the state of our marriage and Husband’s fallen self-esteem…all of these are factors in decisions I didn’t feel big enough to make.

How much was I willing to give up to write?

Turns out I’m willing to give up quite a lot.  Home ownership, something I’ve been privileged to enjoy since the early 90s, might not be possible.  Could I give that up?  Yes.  Could I give up hope of a savings account?  Yes, especially as I knew in my head at least that provision comes from God, not man.  Could I give up Clarksville and the few sustained friendships here?  Yes, I could.  Could I walk away from everything I owned if it was asked of me?  Yes, with tears.

The resolve continued to grow, but what was Husband willing to give up?  Or gain?  I sent off another email and he worked problems through in his head, and we talked.

The one bright spot was that bankruptcy would allow us to be unburdened of a house that needed serious and major repairs.  It would also force the issue of moving to Texas, a frequent topic of conversation from the day Husband lost his job.

Sometimes, you have to commit.  For me, committing was putting the house into Chapter 7.  We will be homeless sometime in the next few months, but we will also be unfettered.

Now all we needed to do was figure out how to pay for a move, and that wasn’t going to be easy.  In fact, we/I dithered a full week trying to work it out.  Our solution is still problematic, and the budget might be considered impossible, but it’s what we have to work with.

I was committed.  Would God send help or grow the budget or at least wave a hand in front of my face and remind me I was looking at the mountain instead of the mover?

By 3 p.m. that afternoon, I was in a tailspin.  I had been served at home for an outstanding debt.  I would have to go to court.

My first thought was that I’d made a colossal error.  Finances weren’t going to improve with only my current job, but at least I had an income, right?  Except that a garnishment would cost me that job.  Managers run between $30,000 and $100,000 between their hands every week.  Cash.  It’s a huge responsibility.

I prayed.  Oh, my, I prayed.  I called my mom.  I fretted and let anxiety rob me of a lot of sleep.  By Thursday when I was served at work for a second debt and a second court date, all I knew was that the settled feeling about leaving the job hadn’t changed.

I say this next thing with modesty.  I’m just a person and I don’t know what the future holds or what I might be used to write, and I don’t pretend to an authority I don’t have.  However, I was reminded of the comment someone made in my mom’s Bible Study:  “Those who can do great things and make a difference come under fire from the enemy more that other people will.”  I thought about the small and big crises that seemed to crop up every time I renewed my resolve to write or spent more time putting words on paper.  Over two years, it was frequent, so I asked the question.  Is this spiritual warfare?

Maybe.

It was clear Husband would have to be working.  It was painfully clear he had given up on Clarksville as a place he could successfully be employed.  Our debts, mostly medical, weren’t getting paid down on one salary.

I was willing to “do time” if it would resolve the debts, but it doesn’t work that way.  The county charges you for every day you’re in.

It was the first time either of us mentioned bankruptcy.

He arrived at the store and we went into the office.  I looked him in the eye and said “please tell me I have to work tomorrow and can’t go to the conference.”  We know each other pretty well.  He clearly understood I was throwing down the gauntlet:  I’m going to this conference or I’m quitting my job in two minutes.  He assured me he would get the store covered.  Later, he apologized.  He said he felt he let me down.  He should have let me quit.

I went to the conference and had a very productive time that was also very encouraging.  I was thinking non-stop about how easily I could have quit when it came down to the choice…writing or job?  Put that way, I knew I had to go.  I spoke with my husband and drafted an email to a few family members and friends I knew would pray for me.

One of the paragraphs from that email:

Some people believe God has known from before our birth every step we would take and He’s ready at every crossroads to keep His will alive in our lives as we choose.  Others believe you can absolutely step outside of God’s will without forgiveness or ever being able to put things right.  Some believe God waits to open doors but that we have to be willing to step out in faith (dare I say commit?) before he reveals them.  I don’t know where you stand in your belief.  I’m not looking for years of recriminations over this decision.  What I need is some kind of … witness…others praying who can come back and say “You are crazy, stay put and let the dreams die” or “I don’t have a check in my spirit over your prayer concern.”  I’d love “Go for it.  It’s time.”  But prayerfully.  With consideration.

I knew I had or was making a major life decision, but I was fearful.  How could I know it was the right decision?  I’d worked with growing pain for several years, and my body was continuing to suffer from the physical and mental stress of the job.  Was it okay to take care of myself first or was I being irresponsible?  How could I know for sure.

The prayer…a deeper level of focused seeking…led me to a willingness to give up security.  Not security in God, but the kind of false security we believe we can provide for ourselves.  It’s one of the most frightening things I’ve ever done.  Faith in finances has always been a weak spot, but if God wanted me to step out in faith, I didn’t want to miss it.

But thinking/hoping/feeling settled in your mind and heart doesn’t translate to knowing.  Is there any way to know for sure?

God expects us to use the talents and gifts He has blessed us with.

I don’t know exactly how I will be using mine.  I can tell you the most amazing writing happens when I become mere conduit and let the Spirit take over.  Those are the most heartfelt and sincere essays (also the most vulnerable and exposing) and short stories.  That’s how I prefer to write…as a pen for the Great Writer.  I couldn’t quite reconcile some of the stories I produce with full on Christian values until a friend pointing something out.  Most of my stories have redemptive value or are allegorical.  I can live with that.

So I was quite willing to be used as a writer.  I was more than happy to offer myself to this.  Time was the problem.  Time to think, create, and compose was at a premium and rarely when I was able to physically sit down to get it done.  The job was going to be a problem.

Husband’s waning self-esteem and sense of manhood were also going to be a problem.  This lesson is not new, but listen, ladies:   a man’s ego needs to be protected and nourished. That male ego is what makes him want to provide, care for, and protect.   Women are a key component in a man’s ego.  We can carelessly destroy it and move on, or we can leave each man we date with a little more strength.  What we cannot do as wives is tear it down.  It is our job to build it up.  Women need love, but men need respect.

A gross miscommunication took place early in 2010.  Husband, relying on conversations with family members that were going on two years old, believed and said that money for a move to Garland would be available.  Not all of it, but enough to work with whatever we scraped up (which was non-existent with the bills).  I knew we desperately needed a change, and based thinking off this miscommunication (no one is to blame…these things happen).

The final straw for me occurred over May and June.  In May, my creative partner, his wife, another friend and I started a network for service agencies and volunteers that we couldn’t get off the ground because I couldn’t make phone calls during the day.  It was a great idea to fill a big gap, but the gap is closing now with other agencies.  It was a golden opportunity to do something good for the community and we missed it.

In June, he sat me down and told me straight that he’d given me most of the skills and circumstances to succeed, both in the online business and with writing (and he did, including hours and hours of support), but he couldn’t see anything changing as long as so much of my time was tied to the store.

Change was no longer an option.  I was feeling the edge of desperation cut well below the skin and into muscle.

Health continued to go downhill, but two surgeries and a set of sleep studies later, I stopped getting worse.  Unfortunately, I didn’t get a lot better.  I stand for the first 5 hours of my shift.  The next 6+ hours are up, down, lift, twist, reach, squat.  These are not good activities for someone with poor balance and vertigo, but that’s the job.  I was doing it, though the guilt of hoping my crew would pick up more and more slack was growing.

Husband’s car was repossessed and since I’m required to have mine at work, he stopped looking for work.  He wasn’t keeping the house clean, and the worst stress came from the ugly environment in the house.  I tried to pick up the slack on the weekends, but it wasn’t long before all my energy was used for work, with almost nothing left over.

So here we coasted, talking about when we got to Garland, when I could slow down, and how it was becoming increasingly clear that I might be able to land a literary agent if only I had enough time to work on the websites, not to mention finish the edits on the novels.

We were going nowhere fast.  Folks were frustrated with Husband on my behalf and also for his sake, but changes weren’t happening and I stopped hoping.  I even went through a period of trying to accept with a thankful heart that I might be called to support a man who was not contributing to our household beyond grocery shopping and a few meals each week.

And then I landed in the emergency room with uncontrollable pain.  Even a morphine drip couldn’t kill it.  I got scared.  Narcotics were offered and declined.  I can’t afford to run a convenience store on less than all cylinders.  It’s not safe for me either with no sense of balance.  Aleve didn’t cut it but that was my best option.  I would be forced to slow down on all non-work related activities.

A month later, Husband landed in the emergency room with uncontrolled diabetes.  Suddenly we were faced with a big medical debt from his 3 days in the step-down unit.  I had to trust his health to God because I couldn’t be there to help or watch or otherwise participate in his health care.  He’s done all right.  His mother is also diabetic and he was willing to listen and learn all he needed to do to take care of it.

That was last October.  I had my second surgery of 2009 in November.  We got through it.

That’s one thing I learned.  If you have to cut life down to 30 minute increments, that’s fine.  God will see you through.  He will get you through each minute of each day with His strength and grace.

The troubles of last fall pulled me off the internet long enough that it became a struggle to get back on.  I was physically worn out and emotionally bankrupt.  You do funny things when that happens.  You hide pain and health from everyone until you hide it from  yourself as well.  You become resentful and angry but you don’t have an outlet, so you stuff it down with mindless activities, food, or sleep.  By the time I came out of the void, I’d been off line for five months.

I was going to have to start over.  And I had yet to start to edit my most promising novel to date.

I’ve struggled with this vulnerability thing for a while and I keep coming back to the Word, where it says we endure things to make us compassionate toward others enduring the same (a rough paraphrase).  Besides, vulnerability isn’t always a bad thing.  Secrets and shadows can be bad.  Open living and sharing can be difficult, but it helps eliminate the shadows, right?

I’ll give you a run down and bring everyone up to date, but first, I want to say something that is really important.

We can go through a difficult time and still retain a level of peace.  We can be burdened with sorrow and still have joy.  I’m not a negative person and I’m not hopeless.  Some of what I will share might make me seem that way, but then again, when you are face down in the waves, it’s hard to see the horizon.  I want everyone to know that I have no intention of being a “debbie downer.”  In fact, I hope to connect with wiser women who have survived life’s uglier sides and are willing to share their testimonies and words of encouragement.

So, I remarried after more than 14 years of singlehood.  My husband had a good job and we were doing all right.  Nothing stellar, not much going into savings, but we were making our bills and going out to eat once a week.  In May of 2008 he lost his job through a failure to follow procedure.   I was encouraging, and he applied to other places, but two and a half years later, he’s still unemployed, depressed, and his self confidence is shot.

So is our credit.  Medical bills kept piling up and I could only stretch my income to cover the basics…water, power, house payment, and our remaining car payment.  We scraped for the auto insurance but we were able to pay for our meds (Husband is diabetic, I am an autoimmune train wreck).

The strain began to show in my body and the job was getting tougher and tougher.  We talked about moving to Garland, where Husband was raised, but time passed and we continued to go under.

All this time I prayed and asked my mom to pray and tried to let friends know what we needed prayer for.

Sometimes God so clearly illuminates a path there’s no question.  Sometimes He requires a commitment before doors swing open.  Sometimes we stand at a dark crossroads, uncertain and unclear.

So I’ll be sharing my story up to our current situation and then as things develop.  I’m a Christian wife.  I can’t say the thought hasn’t crossed my mind, but divorce is not an option.  Trying to salvage Husband’s self-esteem and encourage him is vital.  And yet I am angry, too.

More to come…

Happy Mother’s Day to all women…those who have children, those who have lost children, those who have adopted children, and those who have none, for your children are drawn from your community and grow in your heart.

Our local Red Cross and Salvation Army offices were flooded along with all of their donated supplies.

Our flood victims are currently being helped through several outreach agencies, but mostly by individuals.  I thank God for willing hands and caring hearts.

If you are interested in more information or how to help, you can find information at Clarksville Cares.

Our 30 Blessings Project is finished.  For anyone who made it through with Dorothy and me, congratulations.

Faith, perseverance, attitude, and endurance got me through the month, even on days I was discouraged and didn’t want to go on.

Should the project repeat next year?  I think it would be nice, but I’d prefer to share the writing load.  No promises as of today, but perhaps this could be an annual event.

Was the project worth while?  I can only answer that on a personal level.  For me, it was.  The lessons I learned will be carried forward in my life and relationships.  I have no doubts there.

Were we alone in our endeavors?  The site stats say others were following along, but the reference pieces that could have appeared on other blogs didn’t materialize.  Am I upset about that?  I have no right to be.  I take it on faith that the project went exactly as God intended or knew it would.  That is enough.

I obeyed the call of my heart, and wrote for 30 days as I participated in the project.  I have done my part.  The rest is not mine to fret over.

But I’d be willing to do this again.  Oh yes.