The Story of Her Smile

There’s a story captured in this moment here - 

A beautiful reminder that I need not fear,

A promise and Truth for my heart to hear:

Life’s storms may come, but the rainbow always appears.

Oh, my soul, be at peace - your God is near.

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I had a random urge recently to change my computers background image so I went hunting through my laptops photo gallery. As I scrolled through the many life moments I had captured, I came across the above picture and I got stuck there. Something about this moment wouldn’t let me keep scrolling.

I hesitated to choose this picture because of the poor quality of the image, but then I got sucked into my husband’s eyes and I suddenly didn't care if it was blurry or not. And then there’s the visual proof of how good my guy makes a beard look… 

And then I glanced at the woman sitting beside him.

Then I sat there and stared at her.

There’s a story in her smile and I need to remember it.

You see, the me in this picture - the me who’s smiling and appears to be happy… would you guess I'm experiencing high levels of pain at that moment? And by that I mean, I was in so much pain that each breath hurt. And yet, I'm smiling.

This picture was taken at a concert in Toledo, OH back in February of 2017. I was struggling to recover from my latest chronic attack. I was existing on a couple bananas eaten over a three-day time span, causing me to be extremely weak. My whole torso was screaming at me, sending shots of pain throughout my system on top of the steady throbbing I was already experiencing. I felt depleted of all energy, not real confident in my legs’ ability to support me. And all I wanted to do was curl up in the fetal position and escape the world for a little while.

But the tickets had been purchased, the hotel rooms booked, the plans made. So I traveled with my husband and parents in faith, praying I wouldn’t relapse while we were gone. Every single moment of that trip hurt, but you know what? I wouldn’t go back and change my decision to go {and not only because I met Danny Gokey while we were there!}

There’s something beautiful about taking a risk. Scary, even terrifying at times. But beautiful nonetheless. Because when I step out in faith with no clue how it’s going to work, when I allow myself to be completely dependent on Him to carry me through - I've found that’s when I often encounter God’s love for me at a whole new depth.

When I step out and then get out of His way, He never fails to move.

Maybe you’ve been there. 

Or maybe you're there now.

The pain is too intense, you don’t know how to move. The bills are too big, you don’t know how you’ll pay. The relationship is failing, you don’t know how to fix it. Your loved one is slipping, you don’t know how to catch them. 

The goal is too far, you don’t know how you’ll complete it. The dream is too crazy, you don’t know how to reach it. The calling is too great, you don’t know how to fulfill it.

Life can be so overwhelming at times. Everything seems so big that our vision becomes eclipsed by it. We can’t see around it, above it, below it, or through it. The storm clouds are so dark, we can't imagine ever seeing a rainbow again.

It’s in those moments, those dark and hopeless-feeling moments, that something truly beautiful can be found. Because it’s in those times we get to choose to experience the beautiful surrender.

Surrender of our fear. Our doubts. Our worries.

Surrender of our pride. Our selfishness. Our way.

Surrender of all that we are to all that He is.

His love will never fail us.

He can’t be less than good.

He remains faithful in our struggles.

And He’s working out His plan for us.

All we have to do is trust.

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You see me in the picture above, smiling and seemingly happy.

That’s because I am…

Despite all the pain and hurting, I know I am blessed.

Despite whatever you’re facing, so are you.

Do you have a picture of a moment that can serve as a reminder of this for you?

{If so, can I see it? I would so love that!}

The struggle doesn’t define me and it doesn't have to define you. The enemy would have us believe that lie, but we get to choose: complain or rejoice. Curse Him or bless Him. 

Be bitter or be thankful. Scowl... or smile.

" A cheerful heart puts a smile on your face..." - Proverbs 15:13 TPT

*If you're interested in reading more about what I learned from this chronic attack, check out my post "Artist at Work"

{ where are you? }

I went down to the altar to meet You, but You didn't seem to be there.

I tried to see You amidst the crowd of Your followers, but I couldn’t find You.

I let one of Your children pray for me anyway.

And then I walked back to my seat, wrestling with disappointment and frustration.

I wondered why I even bothered going down in the first place.

The outcome wasn’t a surprise.

I still wasn’t healed.

Why, God? Where are You?

A man who loves You asked us to be still.

To make ourselves open to encountering You.

We asked You questions and awaited Your response.

Oh. There You are, Jesus…

*Photo found on Pinterest

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Above is a jumbled mess of thoughts I experienced while at a concert earlier this year.

During the event, Big Daddy Weave’s lead singer, Mike Weaver, lead us through an encounter with Jesus. In doing this, he had us think of two specific moments in our lives - 1) a moment when we felt joyful and 2) a moment when we felt despair. He then encouraged us to ask Jesus where He was in those times.

To explain the second moment for me, the bleak moment in my life that was dark and hard, I need to first give a little back story for those who may not already know this about me.

In 2010, I became extremely ill. Over the course of a couple months, my life got flipped upside down: my diet dwindled drastically, my pain increased tremendously, and I dropped 40lbs which really freaked me out. None of the doctors I saw knew what was going on and, frustratingly, they didn’t seem to take my issues seriously. They just kept trying different meds to mask the symptoms rather than discover and fix the problem. I was often left feeling like I was merely a nuisance to them.

One of the medicines they decided to try was to be taken right before bedtime. So I followed the doctor’s orders, took my first pill, and went to sleep. In the middle of the night, I was awoken by pain the likes of which I can’t adequately describe. In short, I felt like a hole had been punched in my chest cavity and my insides were ripped out, leaving behind a gaping chasm of fiery lava. 

Mom called 911 and I was rushed to the ER via ambulance. The doctor there kept asking me what I had taken, telling me he couldn’t help me until he knew what was already in my system. I kept replying that I only took the doctor prescribed pill and begging him to help me, but he was convinced there was something else I had taken - too many sleeping pills or some sort of recreational drug and/or illegal substance. 

As I lay in the emergency room cubicle, I was 100% certain I was about to die. Me: dead at 21. I knew the doctor wasn’t going to be able to stop the pain in time and that my heart wasn’t going to withstand much more. And because of the severe pain that I was in, I was okay with it. As I laid there, I prayed what I now call my goodbye prayer. I told Jesus that I was ready to be with Him - if it meant I’d be free of the pain, then I was ready to die. I very clearly remember asking Him to give Mom the strength to walk out of the hospital without me and to comfort her as she made the call to my dad and siblings, letting them know I was gone.

I knew I was going to die. I don’t say that for dramatic effect. No, I was fully certain that there was about to be an Andi-shaped hole in my family’s world.

That moment, laying on that gurney in the icky hospital room in Arkansas - that’s the moment that came to mind when Mike told us to think of a bad day.

My immediate follow-up thought was, “What am I doing back here, God? We’ve already talked about this day. Aren’t we done with it?” I then tried bringing a different moment to mind, but that darn day wouldn’t make room for any other to form in my head. 

So when prompted, I said, “Okay, Jesus… where were You?”

And y’all, what I saw… oh boy.

I was there - laying on that gurney and writhing in agony. The doctor was on my right side, questioning me over and over. And in reality, it was Mom on my left side, holding my hand - in the vision I saw Jesus there instead. He was bending over me with His left hand resting on and covering the burning hole in my chest. And He was weeping over me.

Not polite, silent tears. Weeping.

To see Him so moved by my pain that it brought Him to tears ministered to my heart and my faith in huge ways that night.

By seeing that vision, He opened my eyes and gave me a realization that I had unknowingly been living with the belief that Jesus is sorta indifferent to my pain. Not that He doesn’t care that I’m in pain and not that He doesn’t love me, but because He knows the end of the story, He’s not really affected by the moments leading up to it. He knows the exact moment that my healing will manifest, whereas I’m left in the waiting of Unknown. 

In reflecting on the experience and pondering what God revealed, this is my conclusion: a part of how I came to believe Him indifferent to my pain stems from how I’ve felt at times after people have prayed for me. There are times I’ve left a prayer service feeling condemned and as if it’s my fault that I’m this way. There are times I’ve walked away with a confused heart, not understanding why my mustard seed faith wasn’t good enough. And there are many times that I feel guilty and like I’ve let the dear ones praying for me down when they say amen and I’m still not fully healed. Somewhere in the midst of all that, the enemy planted the little seed that I unintentionally nourished - because surely He must feel indifferent, otherwise He’d have been moved to heal me by now… right? {Thank You, Father, that You tear down lies and reveal Truth!}

I needed that moment with Jesus. I needed to see His tears on my behalf. 

First, because it brought to light a lie that I was unaware of, allowing me to repent of it and to break its hold on me. Second, because we’re once again searching for answers amongst the medical field, fighting to have more tests run and refusing to settle for “everything’s normal” and “you’re fine”. This all makes me super nervous ‘cause the tests tend to bring me more pain than I’m already in. 

He knows exactly what I need for the days ahead. And because He can be no less than good, He gave me that moment at the beginning of this journey to encourage me and strengthen me.

*Photo found on Pinterest

Wherever you are, Friends, I believe He’s right there with you and that He wants to do the same for you. I believe He longs to meet with you and that He desires to minister to your hearts. I encourage you to find a moment today and just be still. Shut out the distractions of the room and let your mind go silent for a short bit. Close your eyes and focus on Him.

There in the silence, when it's just you and Him - think of a good day. A moment in your life when you felt pure joy, a moment that was made for happiness. Do you see it? 

While the memory plays out behind your eyelids, ask Him: Jesus, where were you?

Do you see Him? If you can’t see Him, do you sense Him? He's there...

Now, let the opposite moment come to mind - think of the bad day. The day when the hurt came, the moment when your world was flipped upside down. Let that moment fully form in your head. Do you see it? 

Once you have that moment in mind, ask Him again: Jesus, where were You?

Do you see Him? If you can’t see Him, do you sense Him?

I pray today is a day where you encounter Him, Friends. And that you find Him in all of your tomorrows.

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Thank You, Jesus, that You are a Friend Who delights in our happy moments. Thank You that You dance with us in the sunshine and find joy in the beauty of our laughter. And I thank You, Jesus, that You are our ever present help in times of trouble. That You are our faithful comfort and strength. I thank You that You do not shy away from our hard times, nor are You scared of our pain. You enter into it with us, You endure it by our side. You are good and kind when life seems anything but. I thank You for showing up to minister to our hearts, for meeting each of us right where we’re at. I give You praise and glory for Who You are and for all You do for us. May we continue to encounter You in our daily lives, knowing that You are with us every step of the way, the good days and the not-so-good ones too. We love you, Abba. Amen <3