SHATTERED: Can roots truly grow from burnt ashes?

In all my life I don’t think I’ve ever screamed so harshly at any ONE person as I did God that night. He deserved it, I rationalized. He was NOT holding up His end of the deal, I silently convinced myself. He MUST be angry at me, I told my wounded self. Why else would He allow such huge BURDENS, such PAIN; such HEART WRENCHING, SOUL CRUSHING, TERRIFYING PAIN? There never seemed to be reprieve.


What did He need me to do? I read the Bible daily. Did my devotions daily. Had my God talks daily. I mean friends, it is NOT that I had simply walked away, stopped believing, and having faith. OH NO! I was still walking the faith path that I saw before me. Doing what I knew to do. But apparently that wasn’t enough. I had somehow missed a curveball pitch, a couple of innings ago, in the baseball game of my life that God and I were playing, and well, I’m still swinging the bat in dead air. Strike One.

Every time I started picking up the pieces of my life, started walking down the path again, putting the puzzle back together, EVERYTHING changed. The path, that felt so right, suddenly stopped, barricaded from going farther. The puzzle suddenly was different, and I had to start over AGAIN. My pieces of ME were SHATTERED, just a little more.

I’m NOT good at asking for help. There I’ve said it. It’s the truth. I guess maybe it’s something I subconsciously learned growing up, but reaching out to others for help, well, I’d rather walk on broken glass, honestly. I’m not talking about the kind of help that friends give when ya need an ear to listen, a hug, or a shoulder to cry on. Y’all, I’m talkin’ real help. My little family was & is barely treading water here. It’s EVERYTHING I can do to keep our heads above the water, and as MUCH as I try to FULLY rely on God, to FULLY & FAITHFULLY TRUST in Him, it ain’t THAT easy to do. I know there’s a blessing in the burden, and I THINK He’s trying to show me to reach out as part of the lesson, but I’m a pretty slow learner & even more stubborn…unfortunately. I hate that I can’t provide for my kids the way I wish I could. I hate that I can’t provide for ME! I want SO badly to do MORE, to reach out and DO the work I know God has put in me to do. I KNOW without a doubt that God gave me IGNITE for a purpose, and part of that purpose is for the provision of my family while fulfilling all that God has purposed IGNITE to be. But I guess I must be missing my cue, because I don’t know when to enter or where to enter the stage-stage left? Stage right? How do I start building IGNITE? I know He wants me to go out and SHARE my story, to speak to others, to groups, to individuals. To physically go out and bless others with my story and disciple for Him. The passion I feel when I talk about THAT purpose of IGNITE is an inferno. It’s overwhelming how many emotions I feel at the thought & the excitement I get at the idea. Now why can’t I just SEE what He is showing me to do? I keep asking for His guidance, because God only knows, HOW MUCH HELP my little family truly needs, but I can’t HEAR His voice as clearly. And if I can’t hear Him when I ask for help, there’s NO way I can reach out to others for help! UGH! Yeah, I had words with God about my SHATTERED self.

I’m not perfect, never claimed to be. Thankfully God didn’t make me perfect either. I don’t think I’d like flawless. But yeah, in my angry rant, a flawless life sounded pretty damn good! All I wanted was a happy relationship, a marriage, a partnership. Was that REALLY too much to ask?

I thought I had found that person with father of my littles. We had been together for 13 years, have 3 incredibly beautiful children together and more ups & downs, twists & turns than the Corkscrew at Valleyfair. No, we never married (judge away, but I know WHO MY REAL JUDGE IS) The last thing I ever wanted to do was leave, but I couldn’t stay in that environment anymore. My children needed more. So I followed what God was leading me to do, we left.

“Where are you now, God!?” I scream inside. “Why can’t I just find happiness? Huh?” “This can’t be what you had in mind for my GOOD, is it? Cuz if it is, it SUCKS!” YEAH, these are just a few of the words I yelled at God that night. I’m not proud of that night, or the words I angrily & shamefully directed at Him. But I do think it is a necessary evil to confess and be real about it. I’m not perfect y’all. I am just as weak, and broken as the next person.


Fast forward 10 months from the time we left, and my heart, no matter how hard I try, is still in pain without *Grey*. I always knew he’d forever hold a place in my life and heart because of our children together, but I thought God took me away from there so that I would BE HAPPY. If THIS is HAPPY folks, I want a refund! It was by God’s hand that we left, He moved miracles to make that happen, so why isn’t there miracles now? Frustration and anger are always bubbling at the surface when I think about Grey and I. Maybe part of it IS because of the financial situation, but there’s this huge part of ME that can’t let go or move on or stop loving him… I don’t know, it’s SOMETHING! And I need it to leave me freaking alone! Get out of my life! I NEED to move on! Damn it, why doesn’t God take THIS horrible situation I’m in and show me how to get out? I don’t even want Him to GET ME OUT. I just want Him to Guide me on the path, the RIGHT PATH to get out of this black hole of sadness. To let go of this heart full of pent up emotions for Grey in the right way, so I can move on. Learn to live a life without loving him, because honestly I don’t know how to right now.

I know, I seem very angry still. Maybe I am. I’m just still kinda SHATTERED. I’m trying so hard to pick up the pieces and rebuild. To reconstruct what I have into somewhat of “normal” life. I just don’t understand what God is doing. What His plan is. Where this is all leading to. I wish I did, and I get that His timing is perfect, but I’m feeling defeated. I can only keep picking up the pieces for so long, I can only try regrowing roots in the ashes so many times before my well of HOPE dries up. *Hope can be a beautiful thing. But Hope can be the deadliest weapon too.* (hmmm, there that is again, I’ll explain that someday, I promise still) My HOPE feels so much like it’s in a drought and the ground is hard, dry and cracked. My hope is SHATTERED like the parched earth beneath my feet.



*Names have been changed*

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