Today, I had an unexpected babysitting job with one of my favorite kids. This required two buses. My first bus was on time but just a little traffic threw it off schedule. As the bus approached my transfer stop, I watched the bus I needed to get on next, drive by. I got off at the stop, took out my tablet and searched for alternate routes. Thankfully, another bus was scheduled in 15 minutes. I would be cutting it close but would still get to my client in a timely manner.
The weather was gorgeous. I sat at the bus stop and noticed the school directly across the street. A large mural of children and parents, lined the entrance gate. However, you could not see faces. There were only silhouettes. The line of bustling families went all the way down the block. I looked at each form. Some were tall. Some were short. There were clearly girls, boys, men and women. Different shapes of human profiles were playing. Different sizes of human profiles held hands or balloons. With all their differences, there were two very clear elements they shared. They were all human and they were all going to be educated.
…”Do not consider his appearance or his height, for I have rejected him. The LORD does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance but the LORD looks at the heart.” I Samuel 16:7 NIV
The viewer does not need to see faces or colors. The viewer does not need to know what clothes are worn. All one needs to see is humans. See what God sees when he looks at every single one of us.
Riding the bus is teaching me how to do just that.
I was happy to be scheduled to work an hour later than usual. Since my car was repossessed (read about that here), I have had to catch three buses and a train, at 4:30am to get to my part time job. It has not been easy. The two buses and a train, today, was a welcomed change.
I was surprised when I got off the train to my next bus. The silence caught me off guard. I thought there would be many more people with the time being closer to rush hour than my normal commute. I looked around. Only a few people sat on a bench waiting for the next train. They were staring at nothing as most people do on the subway. I found myself needing to take a moment to appreciate it.
After my short shift, I went to my usual bus stop. A co-worker was there. She and I have just begun to develop a re pore. I was a bit put off by her when we met a few months ago. I thought she was a bit aloof. As time passed, I admitted my envy. She is better at my job. She is faster and more productive. This was a hard pill to swallow. Once I realized that the problem was me, I knew it was going to take God’s hand to help me get over myself. I talked to him about it. He didn’t waste any time. (I wish he handled other things this quickly.) The very next morning, he orchestrated a simple situation that allowed us to have a conversation. I also had the opportunity to verbally acknowledge her work ethic on multiple occasions. This has truly made a difference in how I relate to her before, during and after work.
The bus (and train) ride home were uneventful, but still an experience. While at the stop with my co-worker, I saw two female police officers. This is not something you see every day. I appreciated the girl power moment. While waiting for the train, I helped a tourist family with directions. It felt weird to be able to assist. I was glad I knew what I was talking about. I was also reminded of how long I’ve been in L.A. As my train was arriving, I wished them well. The parents shook my hand. Then, out of nowhere, the father spoke for my heavenly Father. My spirit leaped at the Shepherd’s voice. He spoke healing over my illness. I couldn’t understand everything he said due to the roar of the train but I knew my Father was there. He wanted me to feel his presence.
It’s been a little over two months since the car repossession. I have told a few more people out of necessity. I am an official public transportation commuter. I was going to try shared riding but just can’t get past the idea of it basically being a ‘hitchhiking app.’ I have structured my days around the bus schedule. My body’s time clock has changed. The wee hour morning wake up calls have made it difficult for me to stay up past midnight. Going to church has become opening my laptop to watch our service on Facebook live. Though, I’ve worked something out with a fellow church member who teaches children’s church with me. She was one of the people I had to tell out of necessity. It has been a major adjustment, but I’m still here.
My birthday was a couple weeks ago. It started out pretty discouraging because I missed the bus to get to morning yoga. I was in tears. It was another reminder of my struggles. I was feeling left behind, not just by the bus but in life. Then a man at the bus stop got my attention with a loud, “Hello.” I politely greeted him in return but wanted that to be the end of it. That was not the plan. “How you doing,” he asked loudly? He wasn’t going to leave me alone. “Not so good, actually. I missed the bus.” “Well, that’s not as bad as the day I’m having. I just lost my wallet. All of my ID and everything is gone.”
It was clear he wanted a listening ear. I definitely did not feel like giving one but since I wasn’t going anywhere, I figured I’d walk over. What could have been a very uncomfortable conversation turned into a session of encouragement for both of us. I listened to his deep love for his mother. I remembered my own loss as he revealed through tears that he still mourns her death 44 years later. He was only 18 when he lost her. I thought about my stepfather as he talked about his alcoholism. This man shared his life story with me.
As I listened, I realized how easy I slipped into ungratefulness over missing the bus. I realized how this would have spiraled into anxiety and depression on my birthday. I was so convicted in my spirit. Then, this man said he thought God did not care about him anymore. Immediately, I interrupted.
“What? No! No! God’s love does not change because of something you did. No way! The same way your mother loved you no matter what and with open arms; that’s the same way God, your Heavenly Father loves you. His arms are open, waiting for you. Just open yours.”
He did. I gave him a hug. At that moment, another bus was coming. I told this man one more thing, just for him and got on the bus. I sat down and recalled what I told him about his Heavenly Father. I remembered that love applies to me as well.
My birthday turned out to be lovely day. I spent some time with a friend. I had afternoon tea with a cast mate. It was beautiful. I am grateful.
This year, I think, is going to be full of lovely surprises. I’m looking forward to it.
My acting career got off to a great start this year. I booked a play in February! Performing in the Tony award winning play, Clybourne Park, was an honor and a treat. I worked with a seasoned cast and wonderful crew. Most importantly I gained experience that I will apply in future roles. And thank you to Shari Barrett at Broadway World for the great review.
“Ruthenna Porterfield, whose facial expressions express her disdain to a tee without having to utter a word.”
I had to tell a friend about my car being repossessed.
My goal was for no one to know of my situation. I was more comfortable with dealing with this on my own. However, I needed to get the contents out of the vehicle which included a toddler size car seat that belonged to a client. Then I had to return the car seat to a client. I could not carry all of these items while traveling by bus. This meant I needed help. So I called a friend.
“Two are better than one…If either of them falls down, one can help the other up. But pity anyone who falls and has no one to help them up.” Ecclesiastes 4:9-10 NIV
It was easy to mask the issue at the beginning of our conversation. I simply told her what I needed to do but did not tell her why. She began to probe with questions and concerns. This was not out of nosiness. She just needed a few details in order to plan her day accordingly. I averted as much as I could but eventually had to be transparent. She listened with an empathetic ear. Then she responded with a suggestion.
She was happy to help but did not want this task to be the event of the day. So, she said she would take me to do what I needed then we would go do something to get my mind off of things. She had a few ideas but settled on a picnic at the beach. The purpose was not to dismiss the serious debacle I was in. She wanted to provide a moment of clarity. She did not want sadness, shame and disappointment to be the highlight of my day.
The next day she arrived with a blanket, a picnic basket full of goodies and a small tent. She was not somber. She came in with a smile. She was ready for the day. It was infectious. We drove the near hour to retrieve my belongings from the vehicle. We arrived a bit early so we went to a grocery store to pick up a few more items for the beach. Then it was time.
I was expecting to see the car once more but I was told to wait in the front where my belongings would be brought out. After a few moments, the man emerged with a large brown bag and two car seats. I looked through the bag then loaded everything in my friend’s car.
At this point, I was expecting the sadness and shame to set in. Somehow, I was not feeling either. My friend asked what I was going to do now. I really did not know. I just knew I was in a crazy state of peace. I felt like a burden had been lifted. We drove to my client’s home to return their car seat. Then we headed for the beach.
Great conversation made another hour long drive go by quickly. We talked about work, our dreams, aging, knowing and not knowing God’s plan. We shared details of our lives that brought us closer. We encouraged each other. The day was becoming more beautiful with each passing minute.
We arrived in the late afternoon. There was a nice breeze and about an hour left before sunset. Then she pointed to a very steep cliff and said our destination was just over those rocks. “Uhh. What now? You want us to climb that?” Yes, she did. The task seemed second nature to her. I, however, had never really hiked anything in my life. I saw people going ahead of us. Some were clearly children. “Trust me,” my friend said. “The other side is so worth it.” She forged ahead encouraging me that I could do it. So, I took the challenge.
Slowly, but surely, I made my way over the rocks, through the paths and up the cliff. It was not easy. I was holding a bag of food in one hand in a folded tent in the other. I slipped a couple of times. There were moments I wanted to turn back. I kept hearing my friend say, “The other side is so worth it.” She was right.
The small, secluded beach on the other side was beautiful. I stood in awe of the sounds of the crashing waves. We were not able to pitch the tent due to a couple taking wedding pictures. I enjoyed getting a peek into this highlight of their lives. The sight of her beautiful gown seemed to fuse into the rippled foam of the waves.
We turned to hike back down to the original shore. We found a spot and settled in for the sunset. We ate sandwiches and snacks. I walked the shore line. I allowed the soft, cool sand to massage my feet and tickle my toes. I took in the fresh sea air. I looked out at the ocean and saw my first whale sighting. It was a family of these amazing mammals, swimming to their next destination. I thought about the massive butterfly migration I had witnessed, earlier this year. I was fascinated by God’s creation. I was reminded of how He said they live and move.
“Look at the birds of the air, for they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns; yet our heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?” Matthew 6:26 NKJV
The sun began to set behind the mountains. The colors that painted the sky were a sight to behold. I stood in awe.
I met up with my friend so we could pack it in. We got a good laugh as we tried to fold the tent back into its jacket. We got in the car and headed down the beach road. We passed a seaside restaurant where I recalled a wonderful dish I had in the past. My friend spontaneously turned around. We ordered the dish and caught a few last views of the ocean before leaving. On the drive home, we talked a little and listened to good vibe music.
I wish I can put the beauty of that day into words. This could have been another sad moment in the saga of this repossession. A friend emphatically said, “No!” She turned the day into a memory I will cherish for life. Retrieving my belongings was such a small part of that day. I see it only as a precursor to an opportunity to witness God’s greatness. Maybe that is part of His purpose for the whole experience.
On Thursday, God asked for some time. I figured since I had no job lined up and no transportation to go anywhere, why not? So, I decided to spend the whole day with him. I needed some answers. This was my chance to really hear what he had to say about this situation. “You’ve got a lot of explaining to do,” I said. “Yes, I do,” God replied. “But not about this.”
I started by fasting. Denying the flesh helps to clear the lines for conversation with the Father. And, I wanted to hear him clearly. I still didn’t have the car. My email inbox was beginning to fill with rejection notices from applications I had submitted. Obviously, the ultimatum, I gave God, was pointless. Now, what?
I also unplugged. I turned off my phone and did not interact on social media. The only person I wanted to hear from was the Lord that I love. I was ready, or at least I thought I was.
That day turned into my own, personal, one-on-one conference with the Almighty God. Though it began with all of my grievances, it became a day of unfathomable revelation.
New Insights
I started by reading a chapter in a book by Max Lucado, that I checked out of the library titled “Unshakable Hope: Building Our Lives on the Promises of God.” This began an amazing day of discovery as God began to reveal new aspects of himself. Then, I reviewed old notes from past studies and devotion times. I read verses and insights that God had given me on topics like His faithfulness and waiting. I began to realize that he had already equipped me to handle this situation. This led to a new study on the temptation of Christ. Suddenly, I was having unfathomable revelations about an often quoted and sometimes misunderstood experience in Jesus’ life.
God Speaks
The new revelations allowed God to speak to me about something he has tried to get me to do for the last several years. Trust him. He explained what the word trust really means. He showed me how my fear based decisions proved my mistrust and ultimately derailed plans he had for my life. (One example he used was a moment while I sat in the finance office when I purchased the car. That was one example of several.) I was shaken most by how much it hurt him when I did not trust him. Trust is basically a firm belief that someone is who they say they are. Anytime I did not trust God, I was questioning his character. Asking God about certain things is fine and sometimes invited. Questioning his character often results in his anger. This was evident in the scripture Jesus referred to in his rebuke of Satan during the temptation. (A great explanation of the story from which the verse originates can be found here.)
Finally, God put a new mandate on my life that made losing the car almost trivial. This mandate would seem like an impossible feat, had he not given me new insight on the temptation. Sorry. He has not released me to say what the mandate is but he showed how the vision coincides with the new calling.
Intimacy
That afternoon, I walked to the park. I sat down, took my shoes off and placed my bare feet in the soft grass. I watched children swing and slide carefree. I meditated on the new insights and new mandate. When I got back, God spoke to me about the meantime period. He talked to me about what to do while I wait. I watched the full Priscilla Shirer sermon from the excerpt I had seen on Friday. It focused on obedience during the waiting period.
Then, the Spirit of God rested on me. I spent time in worship. I felt his presence radiating from every corner, off of every object. His glory was here. After such an amazing encounter with Him, I could not end with shallow thanks or a mundane prayer. I decided to do a homemade communion. I warmed some Naan. I took out a few grapes I had in the fridge. (I didn’t have any wine.) I poured a glass of water. As I ate the bread, I thanked Jesus for taking the beating on his body so that I could experience the encounter I just had on this day. As I ate the grapes, I thanked him for the blood he shed that allowed me to be in the presence of the Father as a cleansed, faultless soul.
The parking space is still empty. But, now I am filled.
I sat on the steps of a random building in my neighborhood. I listened to the representative tell me everything needed to get the car back. I ended the call and began walking again. My only thought was, ‘This is not worth it.’ I still stood by the ultimatum I gave God. I needed to see his hand in this situation since I felt like I was in this because of him. So many things were going through my head as I walked down the sidewalk. I couldn’t think straight.
I walked through the empty parking space, back into my apartment and sat on the sofa. I had to make some decisions about things that affected other people. I cancelled a job I had, that required having a vehicle. I texted a client to inform them I could work but I could not travel. “Car trouble,” I said.
I fought back tears. I began to question everything I thought I heard from God. Was I really that crazy? Did I think I had a relationship with him that I really didn’t? My entire life, particularly the last 13 years, has been based on one promise I thought he made.
I hate wallowing. So, I wanted to take some immediate steps to alleviate the situation. Then, I thought about a Priscilla Shirer video I saw on Instagram the Friday before they got the car.
Do what he’s put in front of you to do today.” -Priscilla Shirer
The first thing that popped in my head was the book I have been working on. It is an 11 year-old project that I am half way through. Recently, an email from a friend, inspired me to push through and finish it. I began working on it again but at a lazy pace. “Fine,” I said. I would spend the rest of the afternoon writing. So, I walked to the library and got to work. I finished a chapter and saved the document.
I’m still in a weird place. The most frustrating part of this ordeal is the peace I want to fight. I have no transportation in a city where it is absolutely necessary. I am not making enough money in the three jobs I have. My rent is due in a week and I don’t even have half the amount I need. I scream at God. “And, I’m just supposed to be OK with this?!!” “Yeah. You are,” he replies. “Because I am…that I am.”
Two years ago, around 1:00 AM, my phone woke me up. It was a text message from my neighbor. He had come home from work and heard my car alarm. He went outside to find a tow truck taking my car away. He tried to talk to the guy to get more information but he was only told to call the police department. He took a picture of the truck and attached it to the text message. I thanked him for his efforts and for letting me know.
This was not a shock to me. I had lost a major client earlier that year. Before losing the client, my income was barely covering my expenses. Now, my income was cut in half. I had fallen behind in my car payments as well as other major obligations. I knew that repossession was a real possibility but I kept hearing a promise God had made to me a year after I got the car. “You will never be evicted. You will not lose this car to repossession.” That’s a bold statement to hear. It’s also questionable. It’s one of those statements that should make you evaluate if you’re just hearing yourself or really hearing from God. I had asked myself that question a few times but my spirit was very loud and clear. YES. You heard Him correctly.
So, that night, when I walked out to my parking space, why was it empty? Well, duh. Because you had not made the payments.
“Bring ye all the tithes into the storehouse…Prove me now herewith, saith the LORD of hosts, if I will not open you the windows of heaven and pour you out a blessing that there shall not be room enough to receive it. I will rebuke the devourer for your sakes…” -Malachi 3:10-11 KJV
I walked back into my apartment, feeling as empty as the parking space. I sat down on my tiny sofa. My body was suddenly paralyzed with a flood of emotions. Fear, anger, frustration. I had done what God told me to do regarding employment. I gave him his tithes and my offerings. I never did it out of obligation. I gave because I love Him so very much. Yet, I had plenty of room to receive these blessings he was supposed to be pouring out. An empty parking space was proof that the devourer had come. However, the most infuriating aspect about this whole ordeal was that somehow, I knew there was no need to panic. As angry and as frustrated as I was, my spirit repeatedly screamed, “God is real! You are not crazy!”
I knew I would get the car back. Two days later, I did.
Well, yesterday morning, it happened again.
There is so much shame attached to financial hardship. This is especially true for those of us who are intelligent and do not spend money frivolously. People, like us, we hide our issues from friends and family because we’re supposed to be the smart ones. The responsible one. We don’t post false narratives about our lives on social media. We simply avoid people and situations that could lead to conversations about money. We avoid people until we have no choice but to ask for help.
The reality is that I have been struggling financially for years. My income just has not ever met my expenses. Thankfully, I still have a roof over my head, though I have received an eviction notice or two. Food has been in my kitchen, though sometimes it has been scarce. I’ve come dangerously close to losing my mother’s home. My only consolation has been that I do not have children in the midst of this. The thought of not being able to provide for my child scares the crap out of me. It leads me to pray for all the parents that are desperately trying to provide for their children.
I have asked for help in the past. I hated it. I felt pathetic and stupid and mostly ashamed. The friends that have helped me have definitely been supportive. They could have been God’s way of helping me through this time. That’s great. But I’m over it.
God made promises to me. He gave me specific instructions about my life that I have tried my best to follow. He has asked me to trust him over and over and over again. I have. But I feel like I have nothing to show for it but a $5 balance in my bank account and an empty parking space. Let’s not forget the fact that I have no career, no husband, no kids with no chance of having any. I’m tired of living like this. More accurately, I’m tired of living this life of faith that he has called me to live. How do you explain some of the things you do or don’t do? It’s crazy. It’s delusional. I’m feeling like,
“It is futile to serve God. What do we gain by carrying out his requirements and going about like mourners before the LORD Almighty?” -Malachi 3:15 NIV
Yesterday I walked back into my apartment from the empty parking space and did something that was probably very foolish. If it is, then call it frustrated foolishness. He said test him so that is what I’m doing. As I write this, I realize that I gave God an ultimatum. It’s crazy but I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know how to believe anymore. So, I told him that he has to solve this. He has to get this car back. If he really said that I would not lose this car to repossession, then it is on him to get it. He has to provide the money to get it back. For me, this means that I am not asking any more family and friends for money. I’m not putting this on anyone else again. It’s on Him. I need to clearly see God’s hand here. I have no doubts that God can do this. The question is…Is he willing to do it? If not, then I have some very big decisions to make about my life and our relationship.
A good friend came to visit, a couple summers ago. As usual, I spent the time as a tour guide. I think this becomes an automatic job description when you migrate to Los Angeles, CA. People come to visit and they want to see the typical sights. You are expected to take them to Hollywood Blvd, the Hollywood sign, Beverly Hills and maybe a studio lot if you can wiggle a ticket to a show. I don’t get many visitors but when I do, I don’t mind showing them around. This friend’s visit was a particular treat because I had not seen her in a long time. She had come to celebrate my birthday.
We were walking down the street to catch the metro as we talked about reaching milestone years in our lives. Then, she asked me a question that stopped me in my tracks.
“So… Do you feel like you’re living your dream?”
The question pierced me. When I announced to my college friends that I was leaving Charlotte, NC for Los Angeles, most of them were very supportive. They said they expected me to do something ‘crazy’ like this because that was the person they knew me to be. I was different. I did things that were outside the box. Yet, as the last decade had passed, I watched those friends acquire things I desired that were in the box. I watched those friends get married and have kids. They bought homes and ascended in their careers.
Today, I felt like the only one who had done nothing in life. I was struggling financially, barely scraping by. My acting resume consisted of two community theater plays, a long list of student film roles and one small part on a fake daytime court show. I had no agent (still don’t.) I had no manager (still don’t.) I also had no husband, no children and no prospects. (You get the picture.) I had not lived up to expectations. I had not achieved greatness. This was definitely not the life of my dreams.
The view as I walk down my street. My ‘photography’ does not do it justice.
“Hmm,” I replied to my visiting friend. She sensed my hesitation. Then, like good friends do, she began pointing out some parts of my life that she observed during her visit so far. She pointed out the beautiful view I have on the road that leads to my apartment. It is a view I see everyday as I drive back from work. She pointed out that I had just mentioned an audition that I would love her help taping. She noted that we were attending a film festival event later that evening. She pointed out aspects of my life that were very different than the life she lived but had become mundane to me. I had made light of the small strides I was making because I had not reached my pinnacle of success.
“I guess I am kinda living my dream. But it’s not what I thought it would be,” I told her. Most people don’t live life the way artists do. This is a life of pure faith. I do not have a regular full time job. My days are spent waiting on a phone call or email. Thankfully, I have a gift with children (noted in my Mother’s Day Post) that helps pay the bills. The childcare bookings I receive, allow me to stay open for possible auditions. Lately, those auditions have been few and far between. I cannot explain the struggle to family and friends because living on faith is honestly crazy. It is discouraging. It is so lonely. It is emotionally exhausting. But somehow, it is exactly where God wants me to be at the moment.
Who’s dream am I living?
I have toyed with the idea of going back to NC many times. I have told God that I could be making money and have a family by now. It makes much more sense. I could live in a house that I own, have a successful business and act in some community playhouse. I would be OK with that because at least I would be surrounded by friends, have easy access to family in Charleston and not have this overwhelming financial burden. I have asked him over and over, “Why won’t you just let me go home?” His answer remains, “Because that is not my plan for you. You are called to something much greater. And if you go home, you will die.”
Well, dern. God can be rather blunt…but he’s right. His plan is far greater than my dream. I have dreams of personal success. His vision is eternal glory. I have dreams to act with big names and win awards. His vision is to impact an industry of lost souls. I have dreams of being an example for the neighborhood where I grew up. His vision is for me to be an example of his love and faithfulness to a dying world.
I saw my life going down a certain path. That path did not include tear-filled days, paralyzing anxiety, seemingly unending financial strain, loneliness and fear. I also did not see myself turning to God the way that I have during the last decade. I did not see him as the lover, the father and the friend that I have come to know him to be. My story is filled with many plot twists that I would never have written for myself, but I understand now. My story does not belong to me.
“Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God.” -Hebrews 12:2
It is impossible to tell the story of my life without God as the main character. He turned my auto-biography into a memoir. My little story is part of his greater story. He inserted himself into every aspect including my dreams. I surrendered to that, the moment I said yes when he told me to move to Los Angeles. I cleaned the slate and gave him the chalk. I am OK with this life because I know I am where I’m supposed to be. So, the answer to my friend’s question is…No, I’m not living my dream but I am living God’s vision.
A couple days ago, I learned a former co-worker had taken her own life. Today, I completely understood why. I understood because the thought crossed my mind as I was driving down the freeway.
Anxiety
I had been fighting to not have an attack for a week. Every morning, I woke up and sat at the edge of my bed. Thinking. Contemplating. Trying to figure things out. All day, I battled between fear and faith. Trying to convince myself that everything is going to be OK. I constantly repeated, “God’s got this. God will take care of you.”
Then something would remind me of the very real and dire situation I’m in. “I’m not supposed to be here. I shouldn’t be here. I’m smarter than this. I’m better than this.”
This leads to more despair and more questions. “Did I miss something? What did I do wrong? How did I mess up so bad?” Because the reality is, I’m here because I left things to Him. I’m trying to do things God’s way and there have been no results.
I had been able to fight these questions for years. And yes, I know. The battle is not yours. It’s the Lord’s. And you should let God fight your battles. We’ve all heard the verses and church platitudes. But, when you are in the midst of a situation, those old sayings seem to be part of the walls that are closing in on you. Suddenly, I felt guilty for not having enough faith. I found myself screaming through tears, “I’m sorry. I’m trying to believe. I’m trying really hard to trust you.” Enter- more despair.
…in their peril, their courage melted away.
Psalm 107:26 NIV
This morning, I woke up and the week’s routine started again. I sat at the edge of my bed, thinking. Contemplating. The plan for today was a simple task. Read a book while my car is being washed. I would get something off my to do list and get a few minutes of much needed leisure time. As I drove to the car wash, I began to hear noises, inside and outside, that were reminders, again. “You don’t have enough.” “You are not enough.” I tried to block them but circumstances validated the noise. The store didn’t give cash back. This store gave cash but when I got to the car wash, the price was higher than expected. I couldn’t find a parking space to just pull over, think and get my bearings. Now I’m just wasting gas. I can’t see straight. I can’t think straight. The noise got louder and louder.
He won’t let me give up.
I had to get off the road. I decided to just go back to my apartment. As I was driving, my former co-worker popped in my head. We were college students when we met at work. We only knew each other for about a year. She would give me rides back to the dorm after late hotel shifts. I remembered how beautiful she was. More than a decade later, we reconnected through Facebook. She was still beautiful. Now, a wife and mother of two, she seemed to have acquired the life every woman seeks. She had the big, beautiful home, fancy car and lovely family.
A few Monday mornings ago, she said goodbye to that lovely family, walked out of that big, beautiful home and took her fancy car to Lake Wylie near the borders of North & South Carolina.
The Facebook post, that informed me of her death, flashed in my mind. Her face flashed before my eyes. She seemed to have it all and still could not deal. I have nothing close to what she had. Wouldn’t I be justified?
There’s no lake around to drift away from life, as she did. How easy would it be to just drive off the overpass? I could wrap this car around a pole. I could try pills again. My first attempt at 17, was unsuccessful. “Now, I’m older,” I thought, as I pulled into my apartment parking spot. This time I’d know exactly how to do it. Even better, there would be no one to find me. Right? I mean, only one person has visited me in my apartment since 2019 came in. No one checks on me. No one checks on the smart one. No one checks on the strong one. Because, if anyone is good, it’s me. Right?
Then they cried out to the LORD in their trouble, and he brought them out of their distress.
Psalm 107:28
Then, I remembered that I heard my phone text alert in the car before getting home. I dug my phone out of my purse. I fully expected to see a message about work today or possibly a bill collector. Instead, it was this.
My first thought was to ignore the text, but it came from someone I never expected. My next thought was to give the same old response. “Fine.” Then I realized, I was in a battle…and I needed help. I was too weak to fight this spiritual battle alone. Another soldier had been sent to cover me. So, I responded with a desperate request for prayer. No details necessary. Just pray.
I made it through the day and am happy to write. To be continued…
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