Can You Tell Me How to Get...How to Get to Sesame Street?

There's one reason I need to get to Sesame Street...and it's not Big Bird.


It's the SUNNY DAYS...chasing the clouds away...that I desperately need to take up permanent residence in my life.


I'd been under a storm cloud for days without even a ray of light poking through.


All of the godly wisdom I'd been dispensing for months flew out the window, snatched away as easily as taking candy from a baby.


Which is fitting because I was acting like an overgrown toddler, expecting the world to shut down until I was ready to come back out and play.


I didn't WANT to talk to anyone.


I didn't WANT to pray.


I didn't WANT to read my Bible.


I didn't WANT to let go of offenses.


And I CERTAINLY didn't want my husband telling me how I wasn't in the Spirit.


I knew that.


And I didn't care.


Well, I did care...but I couldn't seem to change my mood.


It wasn't that easy.


So I withdrew.


I excelled in Words With Friends. I finished three novels and binge-watched two series on DVD.


I did fulfill prior commitments, albeit begrudgingly.


Mostly I stayed home and wondered how I got here. I'd had a wonderful vacation and should've returned refreshed and renewed.


Instead I came home acutely aware of the sacrifices I'd made in a life of mission conditions. The air was out, the washer was broken, four of the eight windows leaked. Not just drip-drip-drip, but there ought not even be glass in them for all the water coming in my house.


I wanted to turn my car around and go back to Mommy's.


I was second-guessing everything and in the midst of the biggest pity party ever.


Surely God hated me. This was His plan. To break me. To get me to this incredible place of servitude and say, "Ha! Ha! You really thought I could use YOU?!!"


The thing was, I knew this wasn't true. I knew where the attack was coming from.


And I did care. I just couldn't seem to get rid of this dark cloud over me.


After a few days I realized it wasn't about the windows, or the air, or the washer. (This was painfully obvious when all three were fixed and I still had the dark cloud looming overhead.)


My prayer life was still suffering but I attempted to find answers.


What is it? I don't even know, Lord, what is wrong with me... 


The answer came in startling realizations and remembrances of prior lessons (apparently unlearned):

• When you are in full-time ministry, a vacation away from the ministry should not be a vacation from the Lord. Taking off your armor leaves you vulnerable and ill-prepared...
• Losing sight of thankfulness and gratitude is the quickest way to allow circumstances steal your joy..
• Getting hurt (by friends, family, co-workers--or in my case, a church member) isn't an excuse to retaliate by withholding godly love. "I'm not hurt because I don't care anymore" was a way of self-preservation and it felt wrong every time I said it.
• The holiday season is about the birth of Christ, not about gifts or decorations, and I've spent many years with a joy scale directly proportionate to my Christmas spending budget.
• Confusion is one of Satan's greatest tools. In the midst of discussions about the future direction of the homeless ministry, there are some hard decisions to make and there are often differing opinions. I've allowed the confusion to cloud not only my mind, but my heart as well. 

As I began to see WHY the storm cloud had come and why it had STAYED, I was left simply with a choice.


Is this how I wanted to live my life? With a self-imposed storm cloud lingering over my life, albeit with great justification for remaining.


No, it wasn't.


I expected to begin the slow descent out of the darkness. At least a week or two. That's about how long it took me to get into the hole so scientifically speaking, it'd take the same amount of time to get out.


But my God defies science.


As soon as He spoke it, it was done.


Just like that, my sunshine returned.


It actually was that easy.




******************************************************