It was wonderful.
I want to tell about it here partly because it was so wonderful and I would like to explain why you need one too, but also because in reviewing my last couple of years, this retreat hit on all of the important anything I would have to say... And I figured it might just wrap up the backstory once and for all.
This get-away was Greg's idea, and he wanted to make it happen before I head back into the full-time school year. Feeling a little unsure, I asked a few people for ideas on how to make the most of my time and then found myself furiously grabbing books, articles, my Bible, magazines, my notebook, etc. without wondering/pondering/questioning. As the time came to head out, I was ready...
I was unprepared, however, for what actually occurred on Friday night. I did not want to turn on the t.v. at all during the weekend, so I began the detox process once I reached my room. I started with my Southern Living Magazine that had JUST COME IN that afternoon about an hour before I left... awesome. I savored every page in the beautiful quiet. I felt inspiration dripping into my creative cognitive area (I don't know, it's just what I felt).
And then, it was just me in the silence looking out my beautiful window. For the first time in over two years, I felt that I was not alone while I was alone. I kept looking out my window as unexplained tears began falling more and more rapidly, coursing down my cheeks and dripping off my chin. For the first time, I talked with God about my last couple of years.
I told Him through now choking sobs how hard it was to go directly from the upheaval our family had been through to working full-time in a demanding and difficult job that required 13-14 hours a day and required me to speak in Spanish all day long. (I worked that first year as a Speech Therapy Assistant for a private Speech and Language Center that contracted out for home health services. I was only offered the job if I was willing to see all Spanish-speaking clients - which would have been great, if I was fluent in Spanish). During that time, my daughters were all going into their first full year of public school; I had previously home-schooled. It was a very difficult year for all of them, particularly Grace, who had a terrible kindergarten experience.
And I was absent... All year. Grace had an ear infection one week when I didn't know, so I just kept giving her tylenol and sudafed for symptoms and sending her to school. Finally on Friday I took her into the doctor to hear how extreme both ear infections were, and I almost broke down in the office. My job gave no days off and no vacation; I drove to areas 1 to 2 hours away from my house and children depending upon the time of day... I felt trapped and horrible. It paid the bills, but I was lonely driving around by myself all day; I became a spiritual and emotional zombie or wreck, depending on the day.
I told Him how that hurt my feelings.
I did not understand why God would have brought me to that place. Why would He have completely taken away my opportunity to do those things that I most value and put me in a place where due to the language barrier, I felt I had very little competence? Was He getting ready to just take me out of commission?
During that year, I was not in my right mind. I was situationally depressed, and I don't think Greg knew what to do with me. I spent many an evening sobbing in my walk-in closet.
I remember walking with Greg one evening when he said, "Kelly, what if God wants you to begin to understand the reality of His love for you? You have always come to situations with your hands full, ready to give and serve; but what if you need to see your value to Him, His overwhelming love for you with your hands empty, completely empty? What if you need to be satisfied with His love for you, even like that?"
I wanted to hit him very hard.
That option, if it was an option did not feel like love, but I never really told God that. Life was too raw for me to "go there" as I would say. I could not handle the surface of life, much less anything deeper...
In the midst of feeling like I was drowning and needing to be rescued, I read a book that was quite timely for me. It was the only book I read that year, and it's little. It's called The Prodigal God by Tim Keller. That book did not make me feel like I wanted to throw it against the wall like some false starts did that year. I felt starved for it. My biggest take-away that I still remember was that God, in His authority had not blinked and lost me. He had placed me exactly where I was for purposes beyond my understanding and he was asking me to trust Him.
I spent Saturday morning walking around the sculpture garden at Valley House Gallery -one of my favorite places.After that epiphany, I started my day simply with, "God, You put me here; I need You to pull me through." I occasionally revisited my hubby's statements. After multiple frantic, unsuccessful attempts to find a new job that allowed for more flexibility and family time, it was just as I settled into this realm of trust that I found myself hired as a speech therapy assistant in a wonderful school district that was a 1/2 mile from my house in a whirlwind exchange started by a friend in our Lifegroup and clinched after my interview on the day Greg totalled the car I used for therapy... Really. But that's another story.
Of course, in hindsight, God was developing valuable skills and experience within me to prepare me for this new position (looking back, it was like being paid well to "go to school"), but I couldn't see that at the time. What I know is that my current job allows me to be essentially on the same schedule as my children, know completely what is going on in their schools (my therapy room was two doors down from Grace's first grade classroom last year), allows the girls to be in schools they love, lets me work with an amazing team of educators, do something I love, and speak my native language, and yeah - now I have vacation... I am amazed by it, actually.
I hadn't completely talked to God about that either. It ALL (good, bad, and ugly) came out on Friday night, and after about two hours of sobbing and talking to Him (and thinking "crap, I don't have benadryl or anything, I cannot breathe - how am I going to sleep?!), I came to a wonderful place of listening.
And that is essentially how I spent the rest of the beautiful weekend. I hadn't been there in a long time. Perhaps more on that later.
I will tell you the next morning began with me singing in bed:
Morning has broken Like the first morning
Blackbird has spoken Like the first bird
Praise for the singing! Praise for the morning!
Praise for them, springing Fresh from the Word!
Mine is the sunlight! Mine is the morning
Born of the one light Eden say play!
Praise with elation, Praise every morning,
God's recreation Of the new day!
Blackbird has spoken Like the first bird
Praise for the singing! Praise for the morning!
Praise for them, springing Fresh from the Word!
Mine is the sunlight! Mine is the morning
Born of the one light Eden say play!
Praise with elation, Praise every morning,
God's recreation Of the new day!
P.S. I found a miraculous surprise benadryl in my make-up bag right after I brushed my teeth on Friday night.
