A Place for Me

I am deep dreaming when I am awakened by the annoying yip of the neighbors’ new dog. My eyes are heavy as I squint at the clock to find out what time it is. 7:28 am. Friday. Saturday. Sunday. The same constant yipping that lasts for hours. I try vehemently to return to my much needed slumber. Tossing and turning, punching my pillow, and lastly, whining and kicking my legs like a toddler having a meltdown in the middle of Target because he was just told “no.”

I opened my mouth and said no. But the dog didn’t hear my whispers from inside my bedroom.

After two hours of yipping, I couldn’t take anymore. I stomped down the stairs and out the front door, attempting to video this disturbance. I fumbled and only got a snippet. But what does it matter anyway? The dog was tied to a post on the front porch, barking incessantly at every human passing by, every car passing by, every blade of grass blowing around. I came back inside, sat on the recliner and listened to the dog return to his yippiness but this time, it was accompanied by my snoring husband who was asleep on the sofa. I put my hands over my ears, sighed heavily and began to cry.

Cry?

Yes, cry. I have been in a whirlwind of stress and was overcome by small, silly annoyances. I couldn’t take anymore so I yelled at my husband to shut up or go up to bed as I passed by to go outside and proceed to stand on my porch and yell, “Shut it up NOW!!” and slammed my door shut but not before seeing the neighbor across the street look at me in total shock. Yes, I just stood on my porch and screamed for some peace. Take that!

Five seconds later, it was silent.

Instead of gloating in all my glory of demanding peace, I spiraled out of control into a full blown anxiety attack.

I haven’t experienced an anxiety attack this big in a very long time. While it wasn’t anything new, it still seemed nearly foreign. Stress has been eating my insides in a ravishing manner and my heart literally was threatening to explode through the walls of my chest in a fit of anger, distress and pain. Tears were pooling in my eyes and threatened to soak my face but they never fell. I couldn’t release them. I tried hard to find my center and relax but nothing was working. In that moment, panic won.

I sat alone in my stains of humiliation. 

How could I let those little things get to me so badly? Why did I put so much focus on such trivial matters? Neighbor issues have been going on for a few years now. Things were actually calm and going fairly well until recently. Until the dog. It was just one more thing to push my last nerve that has been hanging on by a thread with them. The dog isn’t to blame. It is their lack of owner responsibility and respect.

Still, why have I allowed my stress to control me like it used to do? I found myself making all sorts of excuses for not getting to church Sunday morning. I knew I wanted to be there. I knew I needed to be there. But I couldn’t. Our washer broke and all my clothes were dirty. Yes, they truly were next in line to be washed when we discovered that the washer was broken. I have very little clothes so I had no alternatives. To me, this just proved that I had to stay home. I wasn’t fit to be around anyone anyway. I would only be emitting shadows of desperation and despair.

I chose to hide my brokenness.

Instead, I sat at home and watched online as my spiritual family gathered in love. They are beautiful people. Honestly, they bring out the best in me and my joy is brought to the surface when I am near them. I sat here in a nightgown wishing I was there. I touched the screen and prayed over them. I closed my eyes and let my spirit take me there. I needed to be in that energy. I could feel their love.

As the rest of the house began to waken, I continued my position of somber pity. I let old thoughts and lies penetrate my mind. And in that moment, I didn’t feel good enough. I didn’t feel like I belonged. I didn’t feel seen or heard by anyone. I felt alone. I felt completely sad. I felt drained of everything and I quickly came undone. This is familiar. I lived in this place for far too long. I cried out to Jesus. I cried out for release. And I heard him say let it be.

Let it be.

He has had to tell me that repeatedly. I know He is not happy about that but because He loves me so much, He reminds me again of who I am.

He gently picks me up and says, “That is enough.”

I stand but I have to lean on Him. As strong as I thought I had become, I realize that I still need to lean on Him. In a moment of darkness yesterday, He let me throw my tantrum and then said enough is enough. Stop it child. You have conquered this. Let it be.

Oh how I love my Daddy. I love being cradled in His loving embrace. He is stern when He has to be yet He is unremittingly there for me, speaking words of praise and love upon me. He guides me to get back on the right path and let Him flow through me.

He is my focus. He is my joy. He is my love. He is my father. He is my healer. He is my everything.

Yippy dog? Let it be.
Snoring husband? Let it be.
Agonizing worry? Let it be.
Paralyzing stress? Let it be.

Focus on Me, He says. Stop straying. Keep your eyes on Me. Keep your heart open to joy and change and hope and love. Use your life to inspire and be inspired. Feel your pain if you need to but do not sit in it for long. I have conquered all for you. You shall stop striving to break down walls and stop chaining yourself to the pain and misgivings of life. It is so unnecessary to live through that torment. Come fully alive in Me so that when you look in the mirror you see Me.

Yes, Papa. I am listening. I am learning (still). I am coming out of the darkness that threatened to take me to places I have been and fear. Places that loved when I would sit in shards of brokenness and wallow in self-pity and hang my head in shame. I laugh in the face of evil You tried. You tried so hard. You were choking the life out of me yesterday. You were pouring acid on my heart and watching it burn with delight. Forget you. I rise from he ashes over and over again.

I am not the weight of my fleshly body. I am not the unworthy woman you try to force me to believe in. I am not the unloved. I am not the unwanted. I am not the loner. I am not the broken one you think I am.

I am loved because I am love.

I am wanted because I want.

I belong because I want to belong and because I am needed.

My spirit may have been shaken but my superhero, My Father, held me in His loving hands and protected me from sinking into a portal of hell.

Take that! Let it burn your very dark soul to hear the name of Jesus fall from my lips.

I am saved.

I am His.

I am royalty.

I am a warrior.

I survive time and time again.

Go ahead, try to take me down. I will not fall completely. I trip over your ugliness and your steady pierce of hate.

But I rise.

I am stronger than your lies of being weak and unworthy. I will stand in the face of your lies and claim myself worthy of it all because He is worthy of it all; because He lives in me. My heart pours out the truth of His love.

I am promise of a kinder tomorrow. I am evidence of song in the midst of trauma. I am proof of steadfast faith. There is a place for me in this crazy world of petty irritations, pointless drama and growing pains. There is a place for me to fill the spaces between all the broken pieces with love, light, hope, happiness and inspiration. But most of all the love of Jesus. So I pour in every seed He has ever planted in me in hopes of restoration and healing, not only in myself, but to those who I am blessed to meet along my life journey. Surrounding myself with those who reflect Him creates an amazing quake in the atmosphere. Together we declare that we are worthy, wanted, loved and needed! Together we rise declaring WE ARE ALIVE!

He is drawing me deeper into my purpose and I am not about to turn from His favor. 

There is a place for me.

I am His. 

Let it be.