The beauty of the crash... reaching the end of me


I recently wrote a post for Velvet Ashes on the theme Warning… where I shared my moment of hitting the wall. The wall called “loss of control” and how that moment played out with tears and soft words of desperation. An End of Me moment that I will always remember.

The beauty of the crash... reaching the end of me

And now that I’ve hit the wall… what happens?

What does it feel like to truly be at the end of me? To relearn basic things and truly start over in nearly every part of life?

I wrote this sentence at the end of that post saying, “I’m laying me down, another layer of my gifts at His feet knowing He has promised to make something beautiful out of my mess.”

I’m living this right now. The laying down of my gifts, the digging in to another deep layer of myself, realizing that not only do I seem different… I AM different.

Because things have changed. Life has changed.

And I’ve realized that so much of what I know and do is unusable right now.

In the day to day… I can’t just run out and do my own shopping or take the car through the drive through for dinner or visit with a friend at Panera. Plus a million other things.

I must relearn how to do those things all within a completely new context.

Then, in the Sunday to Sunday… and this is where it gets tough for me.

The deepest layer I’ve hit to this point of the process.

All my Sunday gifts? Talking, teaching, leading, discipling… unusable in this moment.

I’m not doing any of those things right now outside of the home.

And it will take a great amount of time before I’m ready for that here.

I can’t communicate in French well enough to do those things.

I don’t have a place yet to do those things.

I don’t know enough within this culture to speak yet.

*insert this face.

when gifts seem unusable

And it is frustrating.

Even on the beach the other day, I had the opportunity to pray with a woman who came up and asked ME to pray for her! And I did pray… some in French but mostly in English. We had a beautiful yet extremely simple conversation. I could understand her pretty well… but oh, I wanted to ask so much more and say so much more.

But I couldn’t. I didn’t know how.

I’m sure you don’t know it, but I do enjoy talking.

Almost as much as I enjoy writing.

And to not be able to talk, to share, to teach, to use those gifts in a tangible way… I miss it!

I miss communicating face to face with someone.

I miss digging into a book with a group of women.

I miss teaching kids how to worship.

I miss meeting with youth at Caribou.

I miss those things. Right now, they are unusable gifts, laid at the cross.

And in this season, when I’m truly at a loss for all words, I trust that God will enable and open those doors again one day.

For now, I keep learning French, try my hand at a few Wolof words, study the Bible on my own and let God grow me in new ways.

Continue digging up unplowed ground.

Just me and Jesus.

For the purpose of me.

It is precious time, I tell you. Hard… but so good.

And sometimes, studying and learning new things to be poured out in the written word here on the blog.

All while waiting on Him, trusting him to do something good through it all.

So one day, it can be poured out in a place of His choosing, in His timing.

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