L is for…Life

15 Apr

Years ago I could have been accused of going through the motions. Every morning I woke up, went to work, came home, watched TV, went to bed. The next day was more of the same. The odd day off was reserved for errands. Library. Shopping. Reading. Maybe seeing a movie.

Then I got married and traded that life for…more of the same. Except my day involved waking up, taking care of babies and then toddlers with the TV blaring in the background. Errands, teaching, Church every Sunday, and never enough sleep, never enough LIFE.

I was a Zombie.

I blamed it on the motherhood. After all, who had time or even more important, ENERGY, for anything else.

This constant routine, the blur of days, the passage of years eroded me as surely as wind upon a rock. I was lacking meaning, and as a result I found out just how far down a person could travel emotionally. Cutting, watching the blood well up on my skin scared me enough to look for meaning wherever I could find it. Nights filled with fatigue and too much time alone left me as a seeker online, falling in and out of relationships. Cheating, sex, adultery. Name it what you will but this frantic burst of motion was no more living than endless hours in front of the television and ended in suicidal fantasy followed by suicidal action…

Yeah, not my best time.

After coming to the startling realization that you can hit bottom not just once, but it’s a place you can visit time and again if you’re not careful, if you’re not alive enough to even CARE, I knew something had to change.

Starting with me.

A lot of prayer was involved. A lot of time of reading the Bible, and screaming to God why didn’t HE just fix things and I felt the first glimmerings of life. I really didn’t want to die deep down, so much as I wanted the meaningless monotony to end, I wanted to feel…alive. No. I wanted to BE alive.

Counseling pointed me in the right directions. I began to pray daily to ask God my direction. To show me where I could find my myself. Where I could perhaps…minister. The answer came in Written World Communications.

Oh it wasn’t easy. Living after being dead inside so long never is. And the scars…not just the ones upon my arms, but the ones upon my heart, upon my soul would take years to heal.

But oh it felt good to be ALIVE.

At this point I’ve spent four years trying to build something, to do something that MATTERS. To reach out to writers and give them voice, give them platform, give them LIFE because I know how it feels to be silenced. Yet it’s a struggle. Every single day. The money issues are horrendous (we’ve put $67,000 into this so far…every penny a miracle) and the spiritual toll is worse.

Don’t ever let anyone ever tell you that the field of Christian publishing doesn’t bring down a storm of spiritual warfare on a daily basis.

My health has suffered.

But inside…inside I’m alive.

It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my whole life. It’s a fight every day to continue. But I’m not going to give up just yet.

Life…is too precious for that.

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