21 Day Prayer & Fast: Day 9

As a young child, I grew up dreaming of the days where my mom was going to teach me the best way to make her homemade banana bread, how to curl my hair, how to be a good wife and mother, but I never expected how she would teach me to be independent, at least not as promptly as she did.

It was October 2008, and I had no choice. I was almost halfway through my first semester as a freshman in college. Life was easy, but learning how to “adult” was not. After I accidentally washed my cell phone in the washing machine, my roommate and told me some man was on our room phone and needed to talk to me.

“Who could be calling me at 11pm?” I thought.

I picked up the phone. It was my dad.

“Hello?” He cut straight to the chase and said “Rebecca, I have some bad news… we lost your mom.”

Suddenly, a cue of emotions played through my head, leaving me without a moment to comprehend what had just been said. Sad, angry, confused, frustrated, concerned. My feet gave out and I was on the ground.

This was a pivotal point in my life.

I took a plane home, celebrated Mom’s life and returned to college life. I didn’t have enough time to take it all in. My life didn’t feel any different, but there was a hole. A hole I didn’t know existed until I fell into it. I would pick up the phone to call her, only to realize no one would pick up. My mom was my rock, my truth-teller, my supporter, my everything. Why would God take her from me? I needed her.

Who was going to fill that void? Not God. It was His fault in the first place. I didn’t understand why He “took” her from me.

“How could I do this on my own?”

I fought God for 3 more years, never understanding who to turn to. Back and forth, we danced this dance where I felt like God wasn’t there when I needed Him, only to realize He had been there the whole time. There were times during the dance I thought it was my own strength holding me up, but I was standing on His feet, as we swayed through the speed bumps of life.

Now in 2017, I still imagine those littlest of moments where the Lord let me go and spin around (at times I may have even tripped over my own feet), but He was there waiting for me to come back to Him. His arm stretched out wide, His hand reaching for my embrace, but He needed me to choose to come back. Life isn’t ever going to be perfect, but our Heavenly Father doesn’t ask for it to be. Are you willing to let Him lead you? In a dance where the finale is to heal your heart with His love and help you begin to set your hopes on eternity with Him?

Can He have this dance?

“You have turned my mourning into joyful dancing. You have taken away my clothes of mourning and clothed me with joy, that I might sing praises to you and not be silent. O Lord my God, I will give you thanks forever!”
Psalm 30:11-12 NLT

-Becca