It’s been a tough year in the valley. The valley of trials and tears that is.
Our house flooded not too long ago. We ended up doing a lot of work ourselves. A WHOLE LOT OF WORK! A washing machine overflowed because of a simple reset switch that hooked a pillowcase during the rinse cycle. The washing machine stayed stuck in a perpetual rinse mode, while water silently filled up our laundry room, hallway, and then all the bedrooms. The life I took for granted was being wickedly washed away as we all lay sleeping peacefully. Finally, our downstairs fire alarm blared through the winter night at 4 am. There was no fire. Rather, flood water had short circuited it and it went off.
I was jarred awake and bolted downstairs thinking our house was on fire. Not so. When I flipped on our light switch downstairs, every square inch of our ENTIRE KITCHEN was raining. Hard. And like every good (horrible) trial, you know this is the instant that sears forever into your brain as you briefly occupy two moments that happen simultaneously:
BEFORE and AFTER
As my feet were in mere inches of water, I briefly screamed as I watched in horror as everything I’d built in terms of memories were being washed away. I knew this “worst moment” was just the beginning. The beginning of a very long journey of hard and exhausting and change. It was a forced circumstance that would require us to rebuild our home. The life we had made for ourselves up to this point would now look different than before.
The flood took out our entire kitchen, downstairs bath, mudroom, stairs, ruined three bedrooms and a bath, a hall, laundry room, garage, and even flooded our crawlspace. A demolition team came and within hours our downstairs was stripped down to the 2x4s and exterior siding. It’s not like the house was spotless when it happened. I had plenty of stuff. It was everywhere. The next eighteen hours were grueling as my husband went to work exhausted and I was left to pack up most everything we owned without stopping while hopping over drying fans, and splintery plywood, and big muscled guys who were tearing down things inside the house (to prevent mold) way faster then I could make tossed salad of all our possessions into boxes at warp speed.
I was working as hard and as fast as possible only to arrive at one destination:
WAIT
The days dragged to weeks and even two months before the first repair was ever made. We spent all our insurance money and beyond. Everyday for four months was spent dealing with insurance, contractors, going to Lowe’s, boxing up things under duress only to move things from wrong place to wrong place over and over until each new phase was completed. Anything we could do ourselves, we did while we waited, simply to regain control of our lives. Microwave meals and often not eating at all, doing dishes in a tub in the backyard with a garden hose, stepping on nails and broken glass trying to get something to eat out of a fridge in our hot garage, hauling bedding and clothes to laundry mats that required tens of dollars in massive quarters was my new reality. I became depressed even as I was unbelievably busy. Busy doing the simplest of tasks that took all day without running water downstairs, without cabinets, then counters, without a floor, without appliances. Did I complain about it? Oh yeah! Trying to muster the grace I claimed I believed in felt like grasping at straws sometimes.
All the while, I’d wrestle between doubt and guilt. So much guilt! After all, this wasn’t cancer. It wasn’t death. Maybe I really am just a big baby. This was just a thing (house) full of even more things. I was trying (still am!) to figure out which things we truly need to have, and which things had me and needed to go.
It was a progressively slow and arduous journey. Each day was slightly better than the last. But for everything that went right, two more went wrong. And the progress was so slow. Complications were the standard, not the exception. In the beginning for weeks, I was forced to simply sit still and accept it all as NOTHING happened.
On the outside, it probably appeared we were going through an inconvenience, a big hassle, a mess. This is true. But the harder journey was what was happening inside. It tested the limits of our finances, our ability to relate peaceably at times, to sleep and rest, and for me personally to stay hopeful. It sounds dramatic, but I really was questioning the whole meaning of life sometimes. And I was so so tired. And yet everyday, another box, another wall to paint, another trip to Lowe’s or the laundrymat, and do it with a smile please as you try to resume “regular life”.
The whole time we were remaking our home, a bigger journey was taking place inside of me. This trial, though temporary in nature, took me to all the mentally dark places that I had boxed up, not ever wanting to see again. See, we went through some other challenges, and by now I had kind of counted on, well…..life being easy. Or at least easier. As I write this, I know there will be other “big things”. I am not unique. I’m just like you. We are tested, sometimes frequently, but we must not live defeated!! I sometimes wanted to shout at God:
PLEASE, NO! I CAN’T TAKE THIS. I’M NOT STRONG ENOUGH. I’M SO TIRED.
DELIVER ME. PLEASE. WHY? HELP ME.
Sometimes all I could do would be to pray, or text friends that I didn’t have the stamina to talk to. Or I’d curl up on the useable side of a bed and be unable to move for an hour or two. But then I’d get always back to the jobs I didn’t feel like doing day after day. And as I’d pray wanting to hear an audible reply from the mountaintop, what I usually encountered was
SILENCE.
It was in that hard silence and forced waiting, I knew God had allowed this circumstance in my life. It was tailor made for someone like me who craves order and struggles with PATIENCE and CONTROL. Daily, I wrestled as I touched so many objects wondering why does this hold so much significance or seem necessary to keep?
I’d try to sort items into keep/donate/sell/recycle piles only to get paralyzed mid way and bubble over with the anxiety that comes with being unable to decide:
ANYTHING
Though there were many moments of inability, there were many more of victory. The thing is, the flood made part of the mess that was our life. But it didn’t make all of it. I knew each of us bore some responsibility here. That was the hardest part. The culprit of all this? Chronic busyness...but I’ll save that for another blog.
God sometimes works His best during what feels like the silent treatment. And He is always working. You can’t pinpoint it. You can’t prove it using empirical methods. But you feel it. God DOES work in miraculous ways.
I learned many lessons. I’m struggling to condense it all here, but a few main ones:
1. What we value either FREES us or ENSLAVES us. I admit I’m very guilty of stuff entrapment. I’m proud of the things I have let go of and trying hard to do more. I’m also trying to be okay with who I am. A family historian who likes to garnish and personalize every nook and cranny of space. As if clutter is actually bedazzling. Jeepers. Going forward, I’m working hard to balance memory and just being here now.
2. Our circumstance often requires more energy/time/money/resources than we actually have. This is a hard one. There is not a simple answer. The truth is you will have to figure it out and find your own way. But how you do it is up to you. Don’t waste this suffering. Choose wisely.
3. We will go through such hard things in this life. And when we do, even more things will fall apart as we’re going through the other hard thing. We will want to quit and give up. We will want to run away. Sometimes we will wish we could just be done with it already. That’s when you know you’re toast. That is when we have to sit still and know THIS TOO shall pass. It will!
4. We may feel abandoned AS we are feeling overwhelmed. Sometimes we won’t know how to take the next step, because there will be so many to choose from all at once. We will have to pick one of them and just focus on that and keep going. Sufficient for the day His grace is, my mom would always remind me of God’s promises.
5. We are not alone. In our darkest hours, the Lord is near to those crushed in spirit. Can you believe this? Can you hang on one more day? Can you tell yourself you are worthy of love in the middle of despair in case no one else is able to at the exact moment you need it? Can you find joy AMIDST the suffering because you know as you persevere and endure this, as you take one step forward, just one step, things are changing in front of you, but more importantly there are things in the universe and happening that you can’t see. Most of all, things are changing within you.
As your situation ebbs and flows and changes,YOU are being remade. You are being made stronger today then you were yesterday. You don’t have to know how it ends. You only have to trust that there is more than just this circumstance. Because you are not only worthy of love, but are actually loved and loved deeply, you will survive this. In fact, you will survive every trial in life, until God says IT IS FINISHED. And then, you will truly be okay. Forever.
But until then we have a job to do. Obstacles to overcome. People to help. Journeys to take and gratitude opportunities to find, of which there are so many!
We say we can’t carry on sometimes. But in the deepest, truest part of our mind, the sad and beautiful reality is that we will. We do. One moment, one breath, one day at a time. Until the day the Lord takes us safely HOME.
When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze. Isaiah 43:2
The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. Psalm 34:18
LIZ LOGIC 