Loss | Norma L. Brumbaugh

When You’re Living in the Desert Dark

Overwhelm crashed like sheets of rain in a storm. I scolded myself for being such a chicken about life. Others had been through what I was going through, and they’d made it just fine. Why was I feeling like I was losing myself? The burden bore down hard, but I didn’t want it to. My blood pressure was up, I could feel it; and my heart pounded; and the tension headache. Too much. The sadness of depression nipped at my heels as it tried to push me to surrender to its despair, but I could not let it win.

I don’t like it when I am like that, but it happens. Know what I mean? We get worn down by the troubles and our worries. Circumstances claim us and rob our joy especially if we aren’t refilling our God-tank. Like a car running on empty, we are not getting the fuel we need, the time of silence to pray and unite with God to regain the ‘charge’ we need. Prayer, reading the word, praise and thanksgiving; and then our spirit begins to lift.

“In Christ, help me get through this, help me manage this, help me know what I am supposed to do,” the thought appeared out of nowhere. I was praying my heart, speaking words of despair, when “in Christ” entered my thoughts. “‘In Christ’ show me what to do,” I pleaded. The old familiar phrase was one I once upon a time prayed day after day, month after month. It relaxed me, gave me a smile, helped me lighten up, and boosted my trust.

“In Christ,” spoken a couple of days ago, ministered to me much as it had in the past; giving me hope, giving me strength, giving me courage to face my mental fog and inability to think clearly. Yes, in Christ I can make it and will make it. Fear lessened. Thoughts cleared. Emotions stabilized, and my mind corrected itself. Christ can do that for us.

Long ago when my world was rocked with sorrow and sadness around the time of my divorce, I often said “In Christ” as a way to face each obstacle head-on, and there were many: emotional, physical, spiritual, financial, familial. . . My family was dependent on me and life didn’t wait for me to recover. I was unable to grieve my loss. In my desert dark I learned that “in Christ” I could get through each day without crashing. That phrase, in Christ, helped me manage many a crisis.

Resting “in Christ” is wonderful comfort. In our own strength we crash and burn and all feels helpless and hopeless. I prayed “in Christ” because of overwhelm. I am a sensitive person and the complications of several things were weighing me down. One fairly broke my heart as I prayed for a minister and his family, who are going through it, during another sleepless night; and prayers for a loved one and serious decisions ahead; and the constant concern for my elderly parents and the very real issues they’re facing; and my own self-doubt, wondering if I have what it takes as I walk along side them.

And then there was this. Separation in now distant friendships and now former places of ministering had taken a strange toll and caused a negative outcome in me, one that I had not anticipated. This bred a lack of confidence in my ability to minister, to share the message of life. This grew feelings of loneliness and uselessness, like I was becoming a shadow of my former self. I was despairing, afraid, running low on spiritual vitality with little to cheer me up, with little to look forward to: Butting against barricades rather than opening gateways. I’d become silent, too silent, lost in thought. I was retreating, disappearing, losing my grip. Friends had begun to take notice.

I was thinking about the future, “I don’t know if I can do this” when “In Christ” came out in a prayerful sentence. Upon praying those two words, my inner being strengthened immediately. One cannot remain at the bottom of the trenches when you claim Christ to help you deal with a situation. Two days before, I had asked God to show me how to live above the caregiving without it pulling me down, without feeling vulnerable and inadequate. I imagined myself above it, returning to a life with joy and happiness. I’d been spending lots of time in prayer about all these things, but the despair (and grieving) continued to deplete my spiritual energy.

I was accustomed to experiencing the joy of dailyness with God. But now, the difficulties robbed me of joy. I wanted to be alive and joyful as I used to be even during times of struggle. I missed the light of Jesus that enlivens in the inner self. It had been months of this plodding on but without the vigor and energy that breathes liveliness in the soul. “In Christ,” my will to do His will is reclaimed. We live for Him, for Christ. Our identity is in Christ.

“In Christ” is a phrase to remember for those times of despair, when we don’t know what to do or how to proceed. In Christ, is applicable to almost any situation. It provides confidence in Christ’s ability to help and sustain us no matter the situation. Some of my joy is back. Praises to God.

-In Christ, you can face the giant.

-In Christ, you can hold your head high.

-In Christ, you will be strengthened.

-In Christ, you will get through this, move forward, and build again.

-In Christ, you will overcome and find your hope.

-In Christ, you will be sustained.

-In Christ, the victory will come.

“I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” Philippians 4:13 NKJV

“Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 2:5 KJV

In Christ we gain hope and can live above the circumstance. It is not up to us, nor is it something we can do in our flesh or by human willpower. We receive strength and clarity by placing our trust in Jesus Christ to face the difficulty, and then we surrender the outcome to him.

Are you in your own desert dark? Does despair visit you daily, weekly, more often than not? It’s pretty normal for this day and age. Life is hard, troubles abound . . . but God is good and He is kind. “In Christ” you will find your rest, direction, and hope. The light of the world is Jesus. He is your light, help, and strength.

God bless you, my friend.

***

I welcome your comment:

What helps you face the dark times?

What verses give you hope?

A Story You’ve Not Heard Before

PAIN: TALK 1: my testimony 65 minutes

Some family and friends have expressed an interest in hearing my full story. This is your chance. This recording, from ten years ago, was my first time ever going public with the happenings that had hurt me. I have told my story a few other times but enough time has passed that it isn’t quite the same.

PAIN: Talk 1, my testimony

I requested permission to share my story from my adult children, my siblings, and my ex-husband. They have gone out of their comfort zone and have graciously consented to support me and the message of life that my words seek to convey: The message that God is light, that his light enters dark places, heals deep hurts, and mends wounded lives. I appreciate their willingness to be vulnerable. We are a private family that prefers to be in the background and not be noticed, so this is a gift to me, and you. I know they are trusting God to use my words for his glory, which is my wish as well.

When I first told my story in church back in 2007, I owed it to my church family who had loved me through it all, and allowed me to heal while still serving in our assembly; and I owed it to God because I knew he could use my past experiences to help others struggling with similar issues. It could be a resource to them.

Life’s struggles can be isolating but that is not the last word. God is a God of second chances. I praise him for his goodness and faithfulness, healing and love, hope and kindness. To God be the glory, great things he has done.

You may want to read last week’s post before listening to Talk 1. I’d recommend it as an introduction to this week’s post. You will find it here: “I Felt like Damaged Goods.”

The Recording

Sorry the quality of this recording has some background noise. A man in my church recorded it with a little hand held recorder placed on the podium. I’m thankful he recorded it for me. Minutes before I spoke, he asked me if I was nervous. I responded with a yes. Then he encouraged me with these words, “You’ll do fine.” It felt like a father’s blessing (and he’s the quietest man in the church).

Two of my family were present, my mother and my oldest son. I knew it would be hard for them, and it was. It took courage on my son’s part. His pain was visible. I appreciated him being there, knowing it would be difficult for him. He knew it too, but he came anyway. Thank you, Josh. I love you.

I am glad the recording came out clear enough that I can share it with you. If I retold the story today, I don’t think it would portray the same emotion.

To my family members, my church family and those mentioned in the testimony, I appreciate you. You have always been a source of encouragement to me. My story, our story, is a source of encouragement and blessing to others.

And to Randy, thank you for supporting me in this endeavor. This means more than you will ever know. In your own words “If it can help someone then I’m okay with it.” I’m glad God helped you and me to establish grace between us after all the struggle we went through.

And to my children, this is a big one for you. Thank you for trusting me and supporting me in this. I know it is not easy for you, either, and you may feel exposed. We are still working through some of this and probably always will. I dearly love you.

Again, thank you to my parents and siblings for letting me talk about our private devastations, losses we will always grieve and regret. God has carried us through, and still carries us through. We are grateful for this. I love you more and more as the years pass.

Lastly, thanks to God, who never wastes anything and makes something new and beautiful from the shards of broken pieces in our lives. Beauty from ashes. Your love has transformed me. I love you more than my words can adequately express.