I totally cracked from the pressure and was exhausted from hours and hours of crying. I sat on my phone looking for something mind-less to do for a little while and I got sucked into some blog site that revealed various celebrities without makeup on.
I was in awe of their courage to show themselves in such a raw and real way. Some looked so beautiful that it was sickening and some looked so real that it touched my heart very much. Their imperfections were so beautiful to me and it left an imprint on my heart and inspired me to be more real too.
I have so much respect for people, especially leaders, who show themselves in their truest light, flaws and all. Anyone can look perfect and quote scriptures, but it takes a strong person to be seen as they truly are.
I won’t even read anything from someone who has never walked through the mud or had to face real-life pain. People who teach about faith should have a messy story about how they learned what they did. Maybe that is just me, but I really respect those who have scars and proof that they have walked through it first.
The thing is, if anyone truly walks by faith in a way that challenges every fiber of their being to trust and believe, then there are times when they are not going to look perfect and “beautiful” because living by faith also means “dying” to every ounce of unbelief. There is so much beauty in imperfection and that is why I am writing tonight.
Yesterday, it was like going back to the beginning of this whole journey for me, with a trust fall that completely terrified me. I found out that the room that we were in had been reserved for the whole summer and I was desperate to find a new place to go. The problem was, the prices were so much because of the seasonal things going on in the area and I was running out of time and choices.
What I wanted to do and what God wanted me to do were not the same. I wanted to hoard as much of my money as I could and stay at some ghetto-cheap place to get by easily. Even after all of this time, I am still struggling to trust and I sadly admit that. But then, like He always does…God filled me with the faith to do something totally crazy.
There was a room down the hall from us that was available for only a week. I remember walking down the hall to take out the trash and I said “I should just let go and trust God”. I knew from all of the signs that God was showing me that going to that room was His plan. I also knew that if I did it, it would cost me all that I had. Part of me wanted to ignore what He was saying, so I could take the easy way instead.
I was totally “high” on faith and I paid all that I had for only 7 days in that room. It felt like being stunned with pure adrenaline and I literally felt like I was flying (on faith). I was so excited and happy as the faith of God flowed through my veins!
But then came the time of falling and I started to come down from that high place of faith when I realized how scary my situation was. I had nothing left and only 7 days of a home. I have no idea where I will get what I need next or what will happen after those seven days. It is very much like the first faith jump we ever took and I wrote about it here: The Start of a Promise.
When I started to “look down” at how scary this faith jump was, I went down a very dark trail of depression. All-day, I cried and I cried. I told God that I wanted to die and that my biggest regret was being born. I was so crushed and in pain because I lost sight of His promises and I fell into doubt.
And before judging me, please respect that I am being real and vulnerable here. I know that I cannot go anywhere, because I love my kids too much and they need me. I also know that Jesus would not allow me to get to that place either. His love never fails to show up as a rescue.
Facing all of these fears and terrifying situations is so painful, it is at times unbearable. Not knowing where I will live or how I will pay for it, depending on a promise from God with all of my life, is not easy at all. Almost every day I have to repent for comparing my life to others because I struggle with feeling like the “scum of the earth” for not having a home.
And yet, God is my home and I should be honored that His strength is manifested as glory through my weakness. But I am taking off my makeup so that you can see a different side of me, the imperfect side that has to die to every fear, doubt, and negative thoughts every single day.
The past few days have been so crazy with change that I felt like I was on a “scrambler” ride at a carnival and I had to fight to remember my promises and what God has shown me. In less than a few hours, I moved all of our belongings into a new room and this time I cannot even unpack, because I only have a few days.
But here is the thing…I know that God will do something wonderful this week that will help me remember His loving faithfulness. He has never dropped us yet and I don’t think that He will drop us now. Although I went low in my thoughts, I will rise again.
These love letters are not just some random hobby that I do to keep myself busy or to get money or to get attention. These are my lifeline. They are my anchor in the chaos. Every single letter has been received as beauty rising out of deep pain and I have seen them come to pass time and time again.
These letters help me to believe and trust in God, especially when I am drowning in fear and worry. Even if no one read these letters, I would feed them to myself all day long, because they are what has helped me hold myself together and trust Jesus through this very challenging time.
Someday I believe that He will help me to rise above all of this in a way that will leave the world speechless at how Good He is. I believe that better days are coming and that someday I will cherish this time of learning to trust in His unseen promises.
It feels incredibly good to be real and not just share the happy times with you. If it were not for the sad times, it would be less eventful to see the clouds part and the rainbow shine through. Bitterness only makes the sweetness better.
Love you guys and thank you for reading our story, Dannette