Never mind that Sam and I fought all the time. Our marriage was strained. We had barely any money and our home was about to be lost.
I feared that if I handed my soul to Jesus, life would hurt more.
And it has.
So here’s the thing, looking back on everything that’s happened since then:
I don’t know if it all would have happened anyway. I don’t know if maybe that night, with my mom by my side, my heart was stirred by a God who saw what was headed my way in a few years and desperately wanted to be by my side for it all. To guide me to friends, places, and situations that would prepare me for the loss of my children, twice over. To give me strength to guide Bella losing 3 brothers. To help me tell my husband twice that his sons were going to die.
Or if like Job, He just decided to let my life fall to pieces to prove my words.
You might pick one, but we truly don’t know.
I wonder how all this would have been had I hardened my heart that night? Shut those whisperings out that I was just as lost, if not more so, than anyone else. I ached for my life to change, to have meaning. It does. I would never go back to the girl I was 4 or more years ago. Ever.
But such a price.
With a small glimmer of hope on the horizon for things I can barely let my heart and mind dwell on, I find myself once again asking, “What if?” What if I take a plunge and it all falls apart again? You might think that’s no way to live, but neither is taking the plunge and then holding your child while he takes his last breaths.
When we pray for God to shape and mold us, we are the clay, we give our lives to Him, do what you will with us – do we mean it? Is faith real if it’s only when we get what we want?
What if you give your life to Christ and your world crashes in?
I don’t know. But I do know this – I’d rather have walked this rough path with my Savior than walked an easier one alone.