The Art of Relinquishing

Last night I had quite a deep time with God. As per usual after going to bed I lay reading for a bit. I had a library book to hand, so started that. It was called 'God on Mute' by Pete Greig and all about unanswered prayer.

A year or two before I first became unwell I did go through a very protracted time that I can only refer to as a wilderness experience, or 'the dark night of the soul'. We had really big issues, but it seemed like all my prayers bounced off the ceiling and God just wasn't there, and in the meantime everything just got worse. So I have met the difficulty of unanswered prayer face-to-face before (on this and other occasions).

Everything I have felt God say to me recently has been about the Christian's authority and about seeing my prayers answered. I constantly feel the Holy Spirit whisper to me 'Trust me'. I do, but it's a trust that has had to be built up over a long period of time. But after reading that book, I felt I had to face the possibility that despite all my belief, what would I do if my prayers weren't answered? Because it does happen.

I've always found it very hard to trust. I was sexually abused from an early age, for a number of years, by three different people. One was a close family member, one a family friend and one my father. My parents had both known difficulties and some trauma themselves as children, although in their generation you just had to harden yourself and 'get on with it'. They got on with just fine, but never got over it. They never healed from the emotional scars and as a result could not show love. There was no hugging, no tactility (apart from the unwanted and abhorrent attentions), no 'I love you's and nothing I ever did seemed to be good enough. I could never please them. And I did try, very hard.

Up until my father's death, 10 years ago today, and up until the present day with my mother, there was and is no real relationship. Such a shame, when real relationship has been honestly and prayerfully sought with both.

So, I grew up as a damaged and emotionally crippled child and teenager. Trusting was so hard, because those I had really loved and trusted had let me down so appalling.

Last night, in real honesty, I faced up to the possibility that healing may not come for me. Not because I don't believe it will, or my point of view from previous blog posts has changed - not at all. But because sometimes I believe the Lord would have us be willing to submit to Him fully. As Jesus prayed in the garden of Gethsemane (which apparently means 'the oil press'), "Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done." (Luke 22: 42).

So in humility, feeling very afraid, I opened myself up as fully as I could and prayed, with a trust that required a huge leap of faith, the same. 'Father heal me, take this cup of suffering from me and my family (for this healing is for them as much as for me); yet not my will, but yours be done. Whatever brings the greatest glory to Your name.'

At that moment, I felt some peace. So needing a hug (my past has made me not particularly tactile, but even I need a hug from time to time : ) ) I rolled over to my sleeping husband and spooned with him. Even though he had been fast asleep he stirred and held my hand. 'Hi gorgeous,' he mumbled. And then 'My beautiful wife.'

The journey with my husband has not always been straightforward. Previously I had spent many years single and alone, whilst all my friends were paired up or married. As a couple we have had a super tough time and I have been such a mess that he has had to be super patient. But I was reminded yet again in those five words of what a gift he is to me - a gift from God and a messenger of God's love into my life. Through my husband God has shown me such an enduring and faithful love, and it has provided that human touch that we so often need. I cannot believe that he finds me gorgeous (I feel so far from gorgeous some days, you wouldn't believe it), but he insists that he does (the feeling is mutual). And in the final three words he reminded me that through him God has given me somewhere to belong, and someone loved me enough to want to spend the rest of forever with me. God truly puts the lonely in families (Psalm 68: 6).

Through my husband last night God touched me so deeply with love that I had to un-spoon myself so I could have a good blub. It just welled up within me and I couldn't contain it. Having a husband and it still working 17+ years on, is a whole heap of answered prayers.

After I had finished blubbing I felt a release; I felt a comfort and assurance. And I felt God whisper not to worry, that it would be OK. The gift of relinquishing my desires for His will was a small gift to offer, but I felt that He recognised what a huge thing it was for me. I felt Him smile. And I still believe, even though I've still had health struggles today, that He will come through for me and my family.

God bless you : )