I Am Alive, But She Isn't

The Rebuild family has entered into a season of heartbreak, one of our dearest friends has overdosed.  The heartache is still so fresh that the words just won't come, but there are some things that I have been pouring over that I want to talk about today.  Writing these things helps me to think through them, I don't like to sensor my thoughts here, so I will pour them out for you here and hope that you accept them with grace and understanding.   

In the past few days, I have been pouring over old messages that we had together and there is an overwhelming theme, my friend loved Jesus with all her heart.  She also loved encouraging me.  The photo above is one of those messages.  I had hit a really dark time, and we were talking about it.  We often talked about my darkness.  We talked about mine and we talked about hers.  We also talked about the light. She was my friend, so I didn't have to hold back.  She understood and she delivered words of wisdom to me.  In our messages like these, a common theme was that we were alive.  At one point she said "we are clean, we are sober, and we are alive".  She told me that this all has to mean something.  We repeatedly took the gift of life that we were given and we threw it back into God's face, but He left us here.  He wasn't ready for us yet, despite our best efforts.  Why? What are supposed to do with that? 

This past week, God was ready for Kayla.  She knew Him.  She is still moving mountains.  She is a perfectly flawed daughter of God. Nothing less.  Her soul is not meant for eternal damnation! Praise the Lord for that! 

He was ready for her this time, and that has to mean something.  

He left me here, and that has to mean something too. 

I don't know what to do with that.   

I am clean, I am sober, and I am alive.  That has to mean something.  It does mean something.  There is a reason that I am still here.  I am alive.  

When Kayla was here, she lived fully alive.  Anyone who knew her can tell you that.  She lived her life to the fullest.  She lived alive, and I want to live alive too.  Her death will not be in vain. 

We are all alive, and that has to mean something....

Running Back To You

                          

"She will chase after her lovers but not catch them; she will look for them but not find them. Then she will say, "I will go back to my husband as at first, for                       then I was better off than now" 

I must admit, this post sat in my drafts for a very very long time, or a version of this post anyways.  After IF: Gathering this past weekend, the post changed. It became something that I was proud to post.  Well I wouldn't call it proud...maybe it just finally seemed right.  I must also admit that I am vastly uncomfortable with this level of vulnerability.  This was a hard one to post.  

On my way home from the first night of IF: I was listening to worship music and it suddenly dawned on me something that I had learned that night, but maybe hadn't realized I had learned, or didn't expect to learn anyways.  It wasn't even anything that I suppose was directly spoken of by a speaker.  I suppose that it was a mostly a result of my heart being in a tender, broken place.  This was my first time attending an actual location for IF: and it was so refreshing to watch it with other women. Last year I watched alone on my laptop, and didn't expect there to be much of a difference.  There was.  

If you aren't familiar with the conference, at the end of the night, they took communion. Now, I have taken communion countless times, but this time was somehow different.  It felt sacred.  Before we look communion, we were asked to pray and repent of any sin, and to cleanse our heart before Him.  Now, here is where it gets interesting.  

I confessed my self-injury.  Now, I have confessed of this countless times, every time I did it, which is unfortunately more times than I could ever count.  This time was different though.  Suddenly, God whispered into my soul why it was so broken.  

Why are you not running to me? 

Ouch 

It hit me like a ton of bricks, bringing me immediately into tears and an overwhelming guilt.  I suddenly realized the real reason why what I was doing was so wrong.  When I was lacking, I didn't run to Him, I ran to a blade.  If I am being honest, up until this point I didn't really see a problem with what I was doing.  Yes, it wasn't healthy, but it just didn't seem wrong to me.  It helped me to get by.  When I crumbled, that was where I ran, I didn't run into His arms.  That was where the comfort and safety was all along.  The temporary comfort that I felt had become an idol to me.  It was a slavery that I didn't even know I was trapped in.  Now I do.  

So as I sat there in my seat, I felt all of these things and more...and I repented.  Maybe this means nothing, maybe the next time I struggle, I won't immediately run to him. Maybe next time I will run to one of my many temporary idols that promise comfort.  None of our idols provide the comfort that the enemy promises they will.  We all have that thing, that thing that soothes our soul and calms our spirit, but there is a reason that we have to keep running back to them.  We run back for more and every time we run back to it the more that we will need.  I want to continue to run to the One that can provide comfort. Who can take me in my broken moment and wrap His arms around me and speak into my brokenness.  Each time we drift away, may we always run back, to open arms waiting to redeem us. 

Lord, forgive me for running to anything that isn't you