The Night She Wrestled with the Lord

8 months ago, in October of 2017, just nine miles away from where I lay right this second, I wrestled with the Lord. 

Honestly, I did not realize that's what I was doing until this morning, as I lay thinking about that weekend and let my mind filter back to those emotions. Suddenly, the Lord dropped that into my spirit; like Jacob, I had wrestled with God. Unlike Jacob, I did not get a verbal confirmation of a blessing that night...but soon after, things began to change.

We were on a short getaway that evening, just my husband and I, with some of my family, and it had been so much fun. Lots of laughing, eating, some fishing, more laughing and eating....

But that night, as I hid under the covers with my cell phone (so Chad could sleep) scrolling through my Instagram feed, I felt a familiar feeling of dissatisfaction and frustration building.

I didn't have many friends and family on Instagram so I had started following total strangers with similar interests - especially female preachers and Bible teachers. At first their posts excited me and made me feel a part of something bigger than myself, since I also consider myself a lover and teacher of the Bible. 

But almost immediately I would began to feel down, discouraged even, and find myself in the great battle of comparison, that tried and true thief of joy. I was envious of their ministries, their obvious influence for the cause of Christ.

At times I felt like I was going to explode with the Word of God that seemed to be bottled up in me, yet they were pouring it out day after day on social media and in evangelical meetings....and people were listening. They were actually getting to minister to people daily. 

So, as I scrolled through sermons, testimonies, and inspirational posts from total strangers that night, I felt my spirit sink farther and farther down into that familiar abyss of despair.

I remember in great detail the final straw for my breakdown. I was reading the posts of a young lady who had lost her husband in the past year and kept blogging through it all, showing the faithfulness of God in the face of unspeakable tragedy. 

As I tracked her story, I grew mad and bitter.

I had been through hard times. I, too, had days when I felt like dying. I also had learned to trust Jesus in the middle of unspeakable pain. But, whereas she had this beautiful testimony of the faithfulness of God and was using her story to help others on social media and with speaking engagements, I was laying under the covers reading her testimony instead of telling my own. 

I felt so useless. So...worthless. Like everything I'd been through—every tear, every lesson—was just wasted. 

I had been crying out to God for MORE for almost a year. More of Jesus, more of His Words in my mouth, more working to build HIS Kingdom, more purpose, more focus, more open doors to do something more.

I was already very active in our church, taught adult Sunday School once weekly, and was part of the worship team. 

But it just didn't feel like enough anymore. I felt like I was just treading water, wasting time in the Kingdom of God while others were busy about our Father's business.

For many months leading up to this night I had really begun to concentrate on building a life of prayer and fasting while digging even deeper into the Word I already loved so much. I didn't know what else I could do to make myself more available for His use.

And back in February He'd even begun to work on strongholds in my life, stirring and strengthening me to tear them down and as a result, I had empty places in my life that now begged to be filled with just more of Jesus.

What a great place to find yourself in! Begging for a deeper walk with your Maker, a greater revelation of the Creator of Heaven and Earth... more of Jesus.

Oh, but what a lonely walk! A fight against bitterness as others seem to walk in that you desire so strongly. A struggle to find what it is He has waiting for you....wondering many nights if He has something waiting for you. 

That waiting period is so unbearably hard as you wonder, is there something actually waiting for me on the other side of this wilderness? Or is this all I get to possess in the Promised Land? 

After almost 10 months of crying out for more and scrolling through post after post of those who had the more I longed for, I was done. I just could not take it anymore.

I begged God to kill me. 

Either use me in a greater way or take me on to Heaven, I cried.

I wasn't asking for a "ministry" like others, or a platform or a following of any kind. I just wanted to used by God more than I was currently. I felt full with nowhere to release. Pregnant, but with no sign of giving birth in sight.

I sobbed until I ached that night, bitter tears of hurt, longing, discouragement, confusion, and so much more. All the emotions of fasting, praying, reading, reaching, and feeling like I was continually coming up empty just poured out until I was too empty to have any other thoughts except that loudest one:

If You don't plan to use me, please bring me home. I can't live this way any longer.

Less than a month later, He directed me—pretty sternly, in fact, since I argued at first—to begin posting "thankful thoughts" on Facebook. And through that series of posts and other leadings of His Spirit, I have seen the results of my wrestling. 

Open doors that only HE could open. Confirmations that only HE could give. Peace and contentment that comes only from knowing you've been heard. 

Tonight I'm once again laying under the covers, trying to type quietly while my husband sleeps beside me, just a few miles from the place of my greatest altar.

There's no way it's a coincidence that I would publish my first blog post here at the scene of my greatest sacrifice:

Use me or kill me.

Thankfully, He showed up and consumed my sacrifice with fire. Now, I'm His...and this is just the beginning of my "more". 

Don't give up. Don't stop wrestling. He IS the God who answers...sometimes by fire!

Amy

Tonight's soundtrack: Lauren Daigle's "Once And For All"