Even Before I Call

I wrote this entry this past Sunday (December 8), but couldn't get it to post that day. The Friday that I refer to in the entry was one week ago.

Friday was a stressful day for me, though I felt pretty good physically. I spent the majority of the day working on a cover letter, but I wasn’t satisfied with it. And then I completed all but the last screen of an online job application, only to be kicked back to the home screen without any of my changes being saved. 

“I’ve got to get out of here,” I said aloud. “I can’t do this one more minute.” 

The afternoon was mild, so I mounted my bike and followed my usual route over the park trails. I tried to keep my thoughts in the moment, to focus on the few remaining green leaves and the sound of the water, but my thoughts kept returning to the job applications. 

About halfway through my ride, I had a thought so pathetic that I shocked myself: “In April I’ll be 50. I wonder how much longer I will live.” I thought about the longevity of my parents and grandparents--thank you, Jesus--and figured I could have another 40 years or more left. “I’m so tired,” I thought. “I want to be at the end.”

Immediately I repented. “I’m sorry, God. No, I don’t want to skip past my whole life. I don’t want to skip any of it because I know you work in all things for my good. You promised me abundant life. This isn’t abundant life… being bound by fear and worry. Please help me take hold of the joy that you have for me in this time of trouble.” 

I did find some joy in leading bilingual story hour at the library an hour or so later, and then again when I took my dinner to Mom and Dad’s house and ate with them and my sister Amy.

After dinner, I sat for a while on the couch between my parents, holding hands with both of them. I breathed deeply and savored the physical affection, and then basked in my mom’s fervent prayer when it was time for me to leave.

When I kissed Dad, he murmured, “This made our week.”

I smiled and looked into his eyes through a mist of tears. “Thanks, Dad,” I whispered. 

A Disappointing Sleep

After battling to keep my eyes open on the entire 45-minute drive home, I quickly fed the cats and slipped into my chilly bed. Just this once, I thought I’d thank God for my blessings orally instead of going to my prayer closet to write them in my gratitude journal. (I like to think of that kind of prayer as pillow talk with my Beloved.) I dropped off to sleep within moments of finishing my list and slept pretty soundly. 

But then I woke up at 4 because I felt just a little bit hot. I threw off the extra blanket and whispered, “Snuggle me, Daddy.”

He did. I felt really cozy, but it took a very long time to fall back asleep. I dozed fitfully off and on but was just settling into a deeper sleep when the alarm went off at 7. I had a date with my friend Pam; she was driving us to the goat farm 1.5 hours away where we buy kefir, a super potent drinkable yogurt made from raw goat milk.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stretched my shoulders in the gentle light. My eyes fell on the arm chair that God gave me when we moved into this house. 

My niece Hillary in the chair, the day we found it

I thought about how He’d given me every item on my list in a variety of creative and touching ways. I thought of the beautiful verses He gave me, and the amazing sacred echoes.

“God, you were so kind to me when I went through the divorce. Every day you showed your love for me, and you supplied every need. I felt more loved than I’d ever felt in my life.”

I sighed and mentally reviewed the last five months of illness, loneliness, and financial hardship. “Now, it feels that you’ve drawn back just a little. I know you love me. I know you want me to learn to trust you even when I can’t see you working. And I believe you are working. But… I wish I could feel your love like I did then. I’m just so tired. Tired of struggling. Please, would you show me your love today, like you did then? Would you hold me close? No matter what, I choose to praise you for this good day. Thank you for all the blessings you have planned for me this day, and for every divine appointment.”

I drug my weary body out of bed and made myself some oatmeal and a chai latte with rooibos tea and freshly roasted cardamom seeds. I packed a lunch of overcooked slow cooker chicken and lamented once more the loss of my InstaPot, which I ruined back in September by pouring a broth of pureed veggies into the base without the pot inside.

The Answer Was on the Way

When Pam arrived, she came to my door and wrapped me in a tight, long hug. “Oh, thank you,” I breathed. “I needed that.”

In her car, she put the keys in the ignition but didn’t start the engine. Instead, she turned to face me. She told me about her stressful week at work and about the meltdown she’d had the night before. 

When she lay down for the night, she started to pray about her frustration, but then God diverted her attention. “I thought about you, Sarah. I started praying for you. I wish I could remember all the words that I prayed. It felt so good to pray for you that I forgot about my own problems. I prayed about your job search, your confidence, and your health, and that God would provide for all of your needs. Most of all, I prayed that you would feel God’s arms around you, wrapping you up in His love.”

Sobs shook my shoulders. I started to tell her about my prayer from  just an hour earlier, but Pam wasn’t finished talking. A single tear trickled down her cheek. 

“I thanked God for bringing you into my life,” she said. “I’ve never known anyone like you. I can be completely myself with you. You don’t judge, and you’re kind, and… I just love spending time with you. I felt like I needed to tell you all of this right away.”

“Thank you.” I replied. “Yes, I really needed to hear that just now. And I feel the same way about you, Pam. Isn’t it funny how God used a bratty cat to bring us together?”

She laughed out loud as she recalled the lesson she gave me in clipping CiCi’s claws a few years back after she’d read a blog entry about my struggles with that naughty cat.

I blew my nose and told her about my morning prayer. “God knew I would pray that this morning, and He answered my prayer last night,” I said. “He answers us before we even call on Him.” (Isaiah 65:24)

I closed my eyes and rested in God’s loving arms for a moment. 

On the long drive, Pam encouraged me with stories of God’s faithfulness during her own bout of unemployment, including the time she woke up at 1 with an urge to go on Facebook, where she encountered an old boss and landed an interview for her current job.

During my very short bike ride yesterday afternoon, when I got to the same section of the path where I’d repented over wishing the rest of my life away, love flowed out from my heart and through my lips. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” I said over and over. “Oh, I love you, Beloved. You are so good to me.”

A Delightful Evening

Last night, Pam drove us to the 50th birthday party of my neighbor Eddie, the husband of sweet Ana. 

The hostess, Tammy, greeted me with a warm hug and told me she’d been praying for me.  

I had the most delightful time talking to Eddie’s kind friends, many of whom I had met a few times at New Year’s parties over the years. 

At dinner, I sat next to a retiree named Joanna, and we talked for over an hour. She shared a story that inspired me deeply. She’d been widowed at the age of 34, left with two small children and no life insurance. She’d been home raising her children for the last 10 years, and finding a job was difficult. 

“I had to take a job that was beneath me,” she said. “But I knew I had to get some money coming in. Within two months, they’d seen what I could do, and I got a promotion and two raises.”

Her boss had also seen that she wasn’t eating lunch with her coworkers, and he guessed that she didn’t have money for food. So he started bringing in lunch for the office.

“God really took care of you,” I marveled. 

“Yes, He did…. I’m going to add you to my daily prayer list,” she concluded. “God answers the prayers on my prayer list.”

“Oh, please do,” I replied.

Last night, after writing pages of blessings in my gratitude journal, I dropped off to sleep almost instantly and slept like a baby. Literally.

This time, I was awake at 3:30. I wasn’t hot, or hurting, or anxious. Just wide awake. Once again, I asked God to snuggle me. And He did. But I never could get back into a solid sleep, only dozed off and on.

Another Morning Prayer

At 7:30, I sat on the edge of my bed and said a piteous prayer. “Lord, thank you that I did sleep last night. And thank you again for yesterday.  It was the best day I’ve had in… five months. But…” My voice dropped almost to a whisper, “Could I ask you…. Would you do it again today? Would you show me how much you love me again? Can I ask you that again so soon? I’m just so tired, God. So tired. Even so, your praise will continually be in my mouth.”

After praying about the plan for my day, I decided to go to my close church for the first time in many weeks. I just didn’t feel like driving.

The sermon could have been written specifically for me. “You can’t find your joy until you stop fighting. You have to let go of trying to control your situation and surrender to God,” the pastor said.

With a prayer minister afterward, I shared my three requests: complete physical healing, direction in my job search, and help with letting go of control. “I want to let go. I just don’t know how,” I said, as tears threatened to spill over. 

The man told me how he manages his own anxiety. He pauses, just stops whatever he’s doing and whatever he’s thinking. He thinks about what he knows is true: God is a good father, and he is God’s child. He knows He is loved, and he doesn’t need to worry.

We prayed that God would help me to pause right then so I could remember who God is and who I am. “Overwhelm Sarah with your love today,” he concluded. I cried harder as I remembered my prayer from a couple of hours before. “Yes,” I prayed. “Yes.”

For the whole three minutes it took to drive home, I asked God to help me stop fighting, stop trying to control things, stop trying to figure it all out. “I just want to rest in you. I want to rest in your arms again today.”

At home, I felt so cold that all I could do was curl up on the couch with a pillow and the blanket I’d thrown off in the middle of the night on Friday. I dozed for about 20 minutes with the pleasant weight of my cat Arwen pressing against my chest.

Then I went to the kitchen to make pasta salad with overcooked slow cooker chicken. While the garbanzo bean pasta boiled, I remembered the mailman’s warning earlier in the week about taking my mail to the post office if I didn’t start picking it up. I usually don’t have the heart to check it because it’s always stuffed with medical bills. But this time I figured there could be at least one Christmas card because a loved one had asked for my address in Facebook after my last blog entry.

I kicked off my slippers and stuffed my feet into the sandals Allyson had left by the table; she was out of town with her dad for a soccer tournament at the moment.

Sure enough, there were two Christmas cards, and one was from the aforementioned relative. Tucked inside was a very generous check, but it was the note inside the card that made me weep. “Dear Sarah, Please accept this love offering to help you in whatever you need! I love you and this is what God told me to give you! He loves you. Merry Christmas.”

Once again, the answer to my morning prayer had been on its way before I ever called out to my Father. And within less than an hour, He had answered the prayer from church as well. I did feel overwhelmed with God’s love.

When Allyson arrived, I told her the whole story and then went for another bike ride. I was too tired to say much, but I did thank God for His patience and compassion. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” I said over and over as I traversed that same section of the path.

Oh, I do.