My Daddy

This time last year my Daddy was here. This time last month my Daddy was here. In fact, he was worried about me because I was depressed. When it happened I would have told you that having your parents have to come get you from college is one of the worst things ever. But today I know it is the best thing that could have happened. Not only did I get one last road trip with my Daddy, I got to spend over a month with him that I wouldn't have gotten otherwise. Because God allowed me to have this depression I got to see my Daddy the night before he died. I got one last hug and I got to tell him goodnight one last time. I got to be here for my mom before anyone else could get here. There are no more family vacations to be had. There are no more Daddy daughter late night Wal-Mart runs. My Daddy won't be there at my wedding. That keeps flashing through my mind. Daddy could fix anything. Daddy could do, would do anything for anyone. He and my Mom drove all night to come get me from school. I can't just call him "dad". He was Daddy. I had already decided I would call him Daddy for the rest of my life. I would not graduate so to speak to "dad". He IS my Daddy. You don't say you are a "dad's girl" you say "daddy's girl". That is what I am. I don't know why God took my Daddy so soon. I miss my Daddy. I want my Daddy to give me a hug. I want to sit on his lap. The Daddy I saw laying on the bathroom floor was not my Daddy. My Daddy was in heaven dancing with Jesus.

3:16

The Lord works in mysterious ways. He uses what we may consider the most unlikely of circumstances and people to show His glory and prove His power. When I grow apart from God there are few outward signs. I don't go on drinking binges, start spending the night with strange guys, develop a drug habit, or rebel against my parents. The signs are only visible to me and to God. My priorities are rearranged for the worse and I start to lose my direction and faith. This week has been a learning experience. We aren't supposed to judge other people. Ask my parents, I am the one it bothers most when my grandmother makes racial remarks stemming from her childhood. I'm the one who has stuck by my friends when they have made wrong decisions. Or have I? All this time I was trying to save Alexx, but God was using him to save me! I was given a book this week by Max Lucado called 3:16: The Numbers of Hope and I am so grateful for it. Tonight I asked God for forgiveness for my hypocritical judgement of those friends. I am not perfect. All this time Alexx knew what he believed, but I didn't believe him. I made the call that is only God's to make. We are both far from perfect and while our flaws are not identical they are similar in number. I'm hoping when the time comes for God to use me that I will be ready.
This book reminded me of God's love for me. He hasn't forgotten me and no matter what shape I may feel my life and heart are in He accepts and heals them.

"with a mighty hand and outstretched arm;
His love endures forever" ~ Psalm 136:12 ~ Jesus is undefeated and he is in the ring fighting on our side.

Life 85 - Me 0

If life was a football game I would have called a time out three weeks ago. That time out would last until I am able yet again to handle life. I know life is full of ups and downs. For the most part I would consider myself pretty good at looking back at the down times and valuing the lessons learned. This time I can't see the purpose. I am trying my hardest to see the good in me being back at home. To see the good in taking the rest of the semester off. To see the good in leaving my friends. To see the reason God is choosing to hold me still. You would think my inability to cope with the outside world would make it easier to focus on God. I have more time on my hands to pray and to read the Bible, but that's never what I end up doing.
First Assembly Mooresville has always been home. I've gone to the same church my entire life and there are plenty of people there who have watched me grow up. Going to church is always one of my favorite parts of coming home. But Sunday I walked in a few minutes late. Everyone was standing up singing. Their faces were just as friendly and warm as I remembered them, but I wanted to turn around and leave. Instead of thinking about the Awesome God I was singing about I was thinking "I had to come home." "I couldn't do it on my own". In that crowd of familiar and loving faces and in the midst of the music I felt the most alone I ever have. I finally turned to my mom and cried for the rest of the worship service. Everyone thought I was hearing from God that is was all going to be okay, but I wasn't. I just felt lost, like the one last safe haven had been taken from me. When prayer time came at the end of the service my parents hustled me to the front. The man praying, who happens to be one of my dad's friends, thanked God for bringing me home and asked that He provide a close school for me to attend. I was outraged. Not so much at his humble prayer, but at everyone for not understanding. Sure people are diagnosed with depression all the time, but they aren't 19 years old. They don't have to leave school in the middle of their sophomore year or try to explain to their friends why they have to go home or how they feel. There are no words to describe it. Sometimes I feel depressed. Sometimes I feel nervous. Sometimes I feel alone even when I'm not. Sometimes I feel worthless. Sometimes I feel numb. That is the worst one. At times we may wish to avoid the pain of losing someone or to rid ourselves of regret, but to feel nothing is worse than any emotion.
I have never truly felt forgotten by God or by anyone else. I don't know what to say when I pray anymore. I know He hasn't forgotten me. I know there is a reason. It's incredibly hard to remember that when you don't care to get out of bed some days or care to eat when you are hungry. When you can't find any purpose in living it's impossible to find purpose in waiting.

He knows the plans He has for me. Plans for hope and a future. ~ Jeremiah 29:11