If you know me, then you know for the past few years I have run myself ragged all in the name of ministry.

I put everyone else’s  needs above myself and I don’t mean the needs of my children and husband.  All the while if asked; my answer would be “I am fine” or “I’ll figure it out”.

God did call me into full time stateside ministry in 2003 but at that same time He did not call me to neglect myself.

12 years of stateside mission work has had its ups and its downs.  Since 2011, though, it has been one downward thing after another.

This was originally the picture from the hospital.

In 2011, I was attacked in broad daylight.  I can describe him only as a medium built African American male who was approximately 5’11 or so.  He had on a black and green racing jacket and other than that no other distinguishing marks.

I was generously donated counseling sessions and EMDR sessions.  I was diagnosed with PTSD , the feeling on the right side of my face has never come back and my life changed but I refused to believe it.  I still had the attitude that “I am fine”, or “I’ll figure it out”.

Later that year, my body also decided that it did not like food anymore and in less than 24 hours my eating habits had to change drastically or I would not be walking.

Fast forward 2 years, the opportunity to further the ministry by buying a Pizza Place was placed in our laps.  With “some” prayer but more importantly statements like this: “Lets just walk and if God does not want us to do it…..” and yes I am being facetious when I said “but more importantly…”

Now it is 2015 and I can honestly say ” I am very grateful everyday to be alive”.

The years 2013 and 2014 held some very dark times for me.  I have written about some of them previously.  But God… He had a different ending for me.  In February 2015, He allowed us to sell the restaurant.  We are now at the end of April and I can feel my body starting to heal.  Part of my healing though, was to admit that I had a problem.  And that problem was the attitude of “I am fine” or “I’ll figure it out”.

I can honestly say “I am NOT fine” and “I CAN’T figure it out”… BUT God”.

This past week God took me back to Psalms 69.

Save me, God, for the water has risen to my neck.  I have sunk in deep mud, and there is no footing; I have come into deep waters, and a flood sweeps over me. I am weary from my crying; my throat is parched. My eyes fail, looking for my God

Most people read these verses and get the idea of what the picture the writer of Psalms is trying to portray.

Until you have been there and have come out the other side you don’t realize just how much these 3 verses become your prayer.

Over and over and over when I was in my darkest time I would cry out “Save me, God! The water has risen and I am sinking… the mud has me stuck and its pulling me out further and further. I am so tired of crying and my throat hurts from screaming and Lord I do not see You… are You even there? Do You even care?”  

Because I don’t let people into my life, I keep people at bay, and when asked “How are you” I give them my go to answer of  ” I am fine” or “I’ll figure it out”; this is where it could end badly for most.

I am very fortunate that I have a husband, who may not always be in-tuned to everything all the time… but when it counts God does prompt him to take control and get to the bottom of the issue.  That was this day.  He falsely got me into the van and drove me straight to our Pastors office.  I was on the brink of an emotional breakdown and so stuck in this helpless feeling that driving my van off the roadway was looking like the most plausible answer.

As I sat on the couch I cried uncontrollably.

My natural tendency is to be a caregiver, but with PTSD, I can’t always go and do what I did prior to the attack and with that comes a feeling of not being whole.

This not feeling whole creates a helpless, hopeless feeling which because depression is very common with PTSD, just creates a deeper helpless, hopeless feeling.  I then got caught up into this cycle and by the time I reached the couch of our Pastors office I was a basket case.

I felt helpless.

I felt hopeless.

I felt like I was a bad Christian.

I felt like I was a bad missionary.

I had all these thoughts filtering into my head… I did not need Satan’s help, I was sabotaging myself real well, because I kept hearing “you are in full time ministry suck it up and act as if nothing is wrong”, which just added to the hopeless, helpless feeling.

What I learned sitting on that couch was that David, a man after Gods own heart… struggled just as much, if not more than I.

So where did I go from here.

First I realized that it is OK, NOT to be everything for everyone all the time.

Boundaries is a word that I had to learn and am still learning.

I realized that I needed to take care of myself.

I  learned to speak up for myself.  Telling my husband how I truly felt so he was not blindsided when I was crying uncontrollably.

I am learning how to control the PTSD and not let it control me. ( I am still working on this one. It is a process because for many years I have said “I am fine”, “I’ll figure it out”.)

But the most important thing is knowing that even the greats in the Bible dealt with this and they knew that even though they did not feel God right then and there… they knew His promises were the same yesterday, today and tomorrow. They knew He was true to His word.

I lift my eyes toward the mountains. Where will my help come from?  My help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth. Psalms 121

Because of the LORD’s faithful love we do not perish, for His mercies never end.
 They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness!
                      I say: The LORD is my portion, therefore I will put my hope in Him ~  Lamentations 3