So the tweeples will know that on Sunday night/Monday morning I ended up spending 5 hours in a 24-7 prayer room at our church. As one of the people who moaned and whined and begged for us to have one in the first place, and helped set up the very first one we had…I haven’t been there for at least a year.
Sunday was a bad day. It started off well: I woke up, it was sunny. My Mum loved her flowers and the lemon cupcakes, laughed at what I’d written in her card for Mother’s Day. We planned to have Sunday dinner together as a family, so I headed out for the 11.15 service.
I drove all the way there. Saw people walking into church together. Parked my car.
And froze. I just couldn’t go in.
I took a detour home, thankfully everyone was out so no questions to why I had returned so early. I crawled back into bed, cried and ended up watching Brothers & Sisters which I’d missed on Thursday evening.
I was sad because it was Mother’s Day.
It took me a while to figure out why it bothered me so much this year. And then I remembered that my Mum got pregnant with me on her 26th birthday. And never had any more children after me. So I’d always thought, well you know, I’m going to have my first child by the time I’m 26. That’s just the way it is going to be.
Like you can plan these things?!!
I realised this time last year I was in Watford. I had to go on Norethisterone to be able to drive there and back for the training. When I came off it a few days later, oh man did I pay for it. The doctor wanted me to drive across town to get my first Depo injection and I remember wanting to scream….HOW?!! Only I couldn’t really string a sentence together at the time, I was in a ton of pain. I got there a week later. I’m so grateful it worked. I know it’s temporary, but I’m so thankful. But the fact I’m no longer going down that aisle of the supermarket, it’s a reminder that there’s such a high chance I won’t ever be going down the baby aisle next to it either.
Though part of me think it’s probably a good thing that I won’t be a parent in that way for a great many reasons, there are the days where it makes me sad.
My sister called me later on. We discussed what she’s trying to do to get back on track with her career after a 2 year ‘detour’ from it.
She now understands the fights I had with our Dad over the years. She’s found out now, the hard way. There’s part of me that is glad that she understands, and there’s part of me that is a mixture of sad and angry that she now understands. We trusted him. And he let us down. When will we learn?
The two of us are seemingly surrounded by friends but also incredibly lonely. We’re struggling and the last 2 years in her words ‘have been so crap‘. Yes, we’re fed up. We’re sick of our life as we know it in a great many ways. Yes, we know we have to work hard to make it better. But it’s tough because most of the people around us don’t understand what we’ve been going through….and are still going through.
And so on Sunday night I asked for people on Twitter to send me prayer requests. I needed a reason to go into that prayer room. I searched out my prayer journal so I could right them down. My journal is the main way I have talked to God since well, forever.
The last entry? August 2008. A few days after my sister had finally managed to get in contact with me after several months of separation. That phone call came at Midnight and after hanging up I broke down in tears to my best friend in Aberdeen.
As much as I know that it wasn’t God’s fault – I felt so betrayed.
I had shared my fears. People thought I was being ridiculous. Paranoid. Melodramatic. You know, the usual I guess. When in fact the situation had gotten far, far worse than I had anticipated.
We were all so very, very broken.
I really thought that when I came back to Edinburgh it would be the final pieces of healing and restoration. I was in my dream job – the one God had been preparing me for. I would have a flat so people could come visit Edinburgh, have smallgroups in it, my siblings, my friends, my friends’ children.
I understand the words of David in Psalm 13: How long O Lord will you forget me? How long will I have sorrow in my heart? How long will my enemy triumph over me?
I spent the first 1.5 hours praying for my friends around the world. And then I wrote a bit of an angry letter to God really.
What now Lord? How long is it going to be like this?
I’m begging you Lord to show me the way out of this…
And I sat. And I lay on the floor. I sang in prayer. And I sat some more. Hoping that nobody would turn up, because I’m sure I would have burst into tears all over them. Plus I knew that my eye make up was most definitely smudged by that point.
Today, I feel as if a bit of that wall that has been existing between me and God has been broken down. It’s not demolished completely. But I was able to open my bible and have started building up a prayer/inspiration wall like I used to have in Aberdeen.
Our struggles are still here. And I’ve always been able to choose to worship God through singing despite all circumstances.
I’ve missed just talking to him about everything though.
Not just praying for people. Interceding. Or postcard prayers as I head into work, or events or worry about something or someone.
Actually just sit and have a conversation with my Daddy in Heaven because I want to, rather than because I know I should.
I’m ending with this video, because it’s the song I’ve been singing for months now, and I sang it last night in the prayer room, and several times today. I sing it over and over because it is true, and it’s my prayer for my life right now…