Dirty dishes devoured my sink. Piles of laundry stood taller and stinkier than the city landfill. The kids were acting out and I was depressed. I’d truly hit bottom, and my life reflected it-in my words, in my actions, motives…everything.
Brian’s granddad was living with us. I was homeschooling three kids part-time and had an ongoing leadership position at church (which I probably should’ve given up for a season). Brian’s dad also had terminal brain cancer, and I was taking Granddad back and forth to see him. Other days, I’d go to feed him lunch or go to keep him company.
On top of it all, my mother in Illinois was sick, so I had decisions to make long distance, along with a few trips. My husband? Completely maxed out. Between trying to run a company, lead the family and hold everything together for all of us, it’s a wonder he was standing. With him more stressed than normal, I tried to step up, only to feel like I’d fallen in quicksand instead. It’s impossible for me to capture all of the circumstances that led to suffocating the life out of me spiritually, but there I was.
I was still in the Word and on my knees, desperately so. I wasn’t spiritually dry in the sense that I wasn’t seeking the Lord, but in the sense that none of it penetrated through to my inner being. The words in my Bible seemed to have laryngitis. I sobbed to the Lord with my whole voice, yet it felt like my words hit the ceiling and bounced back to hit me in the face. Impatient, I turned to other stuff to help me feel better–food, entertainment, even ministry. That furthered the wedge between the Lord and me, sending me deeper into despair.
I withdrew from friends, because I was tired of answering the question: “How are you doing? Do you need anything?” I wanted the phone to stop ringing and the emails to stop pinging. I wanted the kids to give me space. To curl up in a ball and hide myself deep under the sheets at the foot of the bed. I resented others needing me. Yet I hated my own neediness. I longed for God to part my Red Sea, for Him to bring some miraculous change to the hardship. But my prayers seemed to fall flat.
Finally God began to reveal to me what He was doing with my flat ceiling prayers. He was scraping them off and answering them His way. Not by changing my circumstances, but by changing my heart, teeny tiny little by little. He began prodding me to be thankful. He challenged me through the words of others. He caused me to become broken and humble enough to let people in to help. Friends brought us meals, sent cards, prayed for us, sent emails of encouragement, and on and on. An old friend even came over and tackled my laundry landfill.
Step by step, the Lord led me out of the pit and helped me to walk with contentment in the valley. Not every second, but most of them. I was still exhausted, weepy and at the end of myself, but I was God-strong. He held me up through the arms of others, and kept me there through the power of His Word. The Lord, my Savior, my Redeemer pulled me out of the pit by my shirt collar and gave me these verses to hold onto:
Psalm 40:1-3
I waited patiently for the LORD;
He turned to me and heard my cry.
He lifted me out of the slimy pit,
out of the mud and mire;
He set my feet on a rock
and gave me a firm place to stand.
He put a new song in my mouth,
a hymn of praise to our God.
Many will see and fear
and put their trust in the LORD.
If you are there right now, smack in the middle of spiritual dry, don’t stop crying out to God. Even if it feels like your cries are falling flat to the floor or sticking to the roof of the ceiling. Even if you’re doggy-paddling in a deep puddle of tears. The enemy wants to get you alone, to tempt you to seek other “stuff” to fix you up, but it will lead to further separation from the Lord, the Only One who can heal what needs fixing.
It’s nearly impossible to understand if you’re in the pit right now, but look forward to the Truth in that last verse to be revealed. When the new song comes, filled with praise, many will see it and put their trust in the Lord. That’s a promise to cling to.
Your desert road may have a different view than mine did, but our God is the same. Keep seeking. Keep praying. Keep waiting. He’s not a flat ceiling. He’s near you, living powerfully within you, waiting to act when it’s His absolute best for your life.
One last word. If you know someone who’s hurting, depressed or struggling in a difficult season, ask the Lord if He wants you to lend a hand. Sometimes even a pinky will do. You may be one of the many methods the Lord uses to bring His child back to solid ground again.