Faith. Women. Empowerment.

The place where your pain is born, is the exact place where your healing leads you into purpose. 

“Watch for the bubbles, that’s when you know she’s ready to flip!” —Dad. 

There are so many things our parents teach us, they cheer us on as we hit milestones from birth through adulthood. They watch us fall down and encourage us to try again, they see our hearts broken and broken for us, they help us to mend. 

My Dad is anything but traditional. Pancakes was about the most “normal” thing, anyways. 

He taught me things like, how to look for good firewood to load our wood burning stove with, where to find mushrooms as big as your thumb and run home to mom with. He taught me about the seeing the beauty in everything you had, even if it wasn’t a lot, God was in all of it. 

The night of May 1st, my phone rang, it was late, the kids were bathed and relaxing in our bed with Dad, and I was busy tidying up the house for the night. I saw my mom and I flash on my phone for a split second, then disappear. I thought, that’s odd, I guess she mistakenly hit my number. 

I thought that for 30 seconds, until I heard my husband’s phone ring from the other room. 

“ Hi!— the normal tone he had whenever one of our moms called.” 

“ Okay, I understand. Where did they take him? Okay. Sure. Alright, love you…” 

My heart dropped, I walked into the bedroom. 

Nathan looked at me and said, “ babe, your dad was in an accident. They life flighted him to the hospital.” 

I stood in utter shock, fear, unbelief, anger…. 

“What?”…. The words came from my mouth asking a question I had just gotten the answer to… my brain told me “ you heard him… this has happened. Leave the room and take deep breaths.” My heart told me to unravel at the seams. 

I ran into our garage, dropped to my knees onto my workout space and hysterically let out my pain, confusion, and uncertainties. 

How could this happen? Is he alive? Why didn’t my mom call me? Are my sisters OK? Is my mom okay? Where is Becky? Was she with him? Where is everyone? I have to leave. I have to go…. 

I was presently in Kansas City, and 5 hours away from the hospital he had been taken to, it was dawning 9 pm and our children needed to be put down to sleep. 

My world crumbled into my head. 

I did what I knew best to do, what Dad would have done, where I knew the only place for solace existed. I cried out to God. 

God, let him be okay…. 

God why is this happening? 

God, I don’t understand. 

We were just 2 months from moving 2.5 hours away from my hometown, it meant that my dad and I could finally be closer, the burden of a long drive and needing lodging for a weekend would no longer be. It meant he could know his grandchildren. For me, it meant repairing trauma and growing in a strong father-daughter relationship. 

If you’re close to me, you know that in July of 2010, my best friend and younger sister went to be with Jesus, at the age of 18. 

This wasn’t something I was able to heal from or process fully, for several years. 

This is also a time when the relationship I had with my Dad, fell apart. 

I blamed God and I blamed my Dad. Both, invalid directions to cast my pain, but I was in the darkest place of life, that I had, and have ever since, been in.

Until now. 

My Dad was in a tragic automobile accident. The man who pulled him from the car performed CPR and kept the tiny pulse he had going while he waited for help to come. The doctors and team at the hospital said he wouldn’t make it through the night. My Dad is currently recovering in a rehabilitation facility, we pray and believe for miracles, everyday. That Dad will wake up from this haze, come back to us. He is surrounded constantly by family, by scripture and by belief in a God of the impossible. 

For months since my Dads accident, I couldn’t find words to put down to describe this pain. 

This story that has once again, 

wrecked my vision of life. 

My sister’s death took 8 years to heal from, I don’t think a person can ever be the same with a piece of their heart in heaven, but I had at least been able to understand that being angry was not the answer. 

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?

This was the question Jesus asked his father on the cross, when his earthly death was approaching, he looked to the heavens for answers. He saw his father turn his back on him, as was necessary, to complete the price his son had to pay for our souls to be free. 

In that moment, I wonder, if Jesus was able to see that? To understand that his father didn’t want to abandon him, but it was necessary. 

God abandoned his son so that he and his son would never again have to leave another soul in their desperation. 

For months, until now, I had been in a similar place of confusion, pain, and mostly— lost. 

This time around, I knew that the same father who got me through my sisters passing, would chase me down again when I ran for the wilderness to escape the pain that all of this had caused. 

For months— almost daily, my thoughts have been, 

Why have they both gone?? Why?? What did I do to deserve this?? Dad isn’t gone but he isn’t here, I can’t hear his voice, I needed him. 

My sisters need their Dad. 

God more than ever, my baby sister needs her father. She won’t make it through this, How is she making it out of this? God you were supposed to turn this around—you know she is still struggling to get out from his storm and now her best friend in the world is unable to communicate. Why?? How could this happen God?? You’re a GOOD father so why now!? I don’t understand you. I don’t understand this, I am angry, I am broken, I can’t stand to loose another family member…… 

Then, A few Sundays ago, I heard a message from my pastor, at Elevation Church, Steven Furtick. His words cut like a knife through this burden I had been holding, I heard God say— “ It’s time to lay it down, this isn’t yours to carry.” 

“ It’s time to rescue your story” — Pastor Steven shouted through the TV.  

It was like a wind from heaven had blown through my body. My pain was still present but SO was the presence of my Heavenly Father that I had been absent—minded of for months. 

God has not abandoned you.

He is waiting for you to lay it down.

To stop running from the storm and embrace the rain.

Let the fear, the pain, the confusion, lead you to a room of healing.

It is human to hurt.

God gave us emotion, it is part of his masterpiece.

I will never deny how I am processing seasons of life— it is what shapes us into all that God has called us for. 

The truth is—life is hard, life is uncertain, it is fragile. This is not Gods fault, it just is. 

The truth is also that it is necessary to process pain. It is not an emotion that is meant to be covered up and left to its own devices, that breeds hate, untouchable anxiety, and it separates you from a place you were always meant to be— in conversation with Jesus.

Pain is ours to process, with God, and also ours to lay down and give over so that we can meet at the intersection of purpose and pain. 

The place where your pain is born, is the exact place where your healing leads you into purpose.

It’s not easy. To revisit the hardest things that have broken you into pieces, but it is necessary. To be able to sort out the mess, with Jesus by our side.

That way, when we feel like it’s too heavy, we can have a hand to hold us through it. Because it will be too heavy, too much, it’s not meant to be carried in our own humanity. 

Then Jesus said, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.—Matthew 11:28

Friends, pain is real— the heaviness is hard—lean into the healing, drop your weight, It. Is. Okay.

You’re going to be okay. 

You will survive this. 

You will be able to help another through the darkest season because you first came through your own. 

Surrender to the promise that you are not alone. 

You are not forgotten. 

You are held.