Waiting on Jesus. Another day without our Savior on earth. It seems really funny to me that one man had preached (and actually had people believing) that he had figured out the day Jesus would come back. But
Matthew 24:36 clearly says that no one knows the day or the hour that Jesus will return, not even Jesus himself.
God has purpose in waiting to fulfill His promises.
I've been a little reserved in sharing the whole story of my desert experience here on this blog. But I am going to do it, honestly and openly, in hopes that my transparency might bless someone else. If anything here resonates with you please feel free to contact me. Or seek help. Please.
In January of 2010 I began to long for Jesus. I couldn't stop thinking about how I wanted to be with Him. And rather than dive into my bible in order to be closer, I let my mind wander. Little by little I fell into a serious depression. It was a perfect storm of emotional stress (fertility/hormone treatment), physical stress (job transition), and mental stress (twisted thinking). As the months went by I couldn't understand why God was holding Himself back from me. Why wasn't He answering my prayers? I wasn't praying for something evil. I was praying for a baby (didn't He say to multiply and inhabit the earth?) and I was praying that Jesus would return (throw me a bone! I'm ready to live with You.). But nothing. No baby. And He didn't take me to heaven either. What started as a seemingly innocent request twisted into suicidal thoughts and a downward spiral like I never thought possible. If you don't know me personally you're just going to have to believe me when I say that I had a really, really good life. Married to a wonderful man, mother of a beautiful girl. Loved by many, many friends. A homeowner, very little debt, with our slice of the American dream. What more could a girl want?
But I did my very best to rebel against God and His love for me. My husband and his love for me. If the semi truck in the oncoming lane wasn't going to drift over and send me straight to Jesus then I would just walk away from everything I knew and go live in a van under a bridge. After a few weeks completely detached from reality I was saved by my husband. I told him everything I was going through. After a lot of tears, a few phone calls, and one doctor visit my husband took me (voluntarily) to the hospital. I was admitted to the psych ward and yes it is as horrific as you might think. That was rock bottom.
With the help of prayers from others, anti-depressants, and most of all - my husband's faith, love and sheer dependence on God; I began to crawl my way out of the pit. It was a long hard journey. I still have to live with consequences and memories of that horrible season. But it's over.
Could God really have a purpose in making me wait? Absolutely. I know Jesus like I never could have before. I am humbled because I realize what a sinner I am. The things that I did during this season - He died for those actions. It breaks my heart that my sins were on Him as He died on the cross. And It took time to accept it. It took time to accept His love. It took time to find my true identity. It took waiting. But God had a purpose in it all. Oh, did He ever.
God blesses the meek and humble. He has lifted me out of the mud. Wiped me clean. And called me His. And today I read His word, I do all I can to glorify His name, and I share it all with anyone who will listen.
Redeemed by Him,
Denise
