Guys, I broke this week.
I found out some information on Monday that broke me.
Shattered me completely.
I collapsed on the floor in a pile of rubble as my heart broke into a million little tiny pieces--so many wounds stabbed directly into my heart.
This week has been HELL.
No other word can suffice for what I experienced on Monday, on Tuesday, on Wednesday morning, as I felt so much pain that I genuinely thought that anything--ANYTHING--would be preferable to what I'd experienced....the feeling of waking up after a brief respite from the pain as you temporarily forget in sleep, then having reality rush back to you full force--that is a sorrow I have only experienced once before, at my nephew's death.
This was worse.
I watched my parents, my sister, my children, my husband's hearts all break as they watched me go through the Valley of the Shadow of Death.
And I prayed to God.
Even in the midst of my pain, I felt His hand. I felt His love, I felt His purpose for me, for my husband, for my marriage, and although I was devastated--shattered--I clung to that tiny shred of belief that maybe--MAYBE there was a reason for this Hell.
Wednesday--yesterday--I found out that reason as I watched my husband have his own Alma the Younger experience--a miraculous conversion that has changed him completely and absolutely.
I saw it happen. I saw the change, I felt the Spirit's witness to my heart, and I experienced heavenly joy just hours after the worst hell I could have possibly imagined.
Since that moment with my husband, I have understood the reason, the purpose behind the hell I experienced. With the understanding comes peace, but the sorrow--the sorrow is still there.
Today, that sorrow came back full force and threatened to drown me, to overwhelm me with its power.
I prayed to God and asked Him what I should do, and He told me in one word: "Rest."
I rested.
I rested in Him, I trusted Him to care for me, and after a morning of snuggling with my children, I turned their care over to my husband and slept for hours--a deep, restful sleep.
I woke, and the sorrow hit full force yet again.
I asked God what to do, and He told me, "I know I've asked you to go through something hard. I know this is difficult--that it is taking everything you have to go through this--but it will be worth it."
He then gave me such a powerful experience of peace and love that it got me through the next few hours of sorrow.
Tonight, as my husband and I prepared to go to our counseling session, a package from Amazon arrived on our front porch.
"Did you order something?" My husband asked curiously, as he handed me the package in the midst of my getting dressed for the day (it was a day that required pajamas until 6:00 in the evening, okay?)
I shook my head. "Does it say who it's from?"
He looked at the label--"Nothing. Just a gift."
I finished dressing, took the package to the kitchen, and opened it, pulling out a mug, several packages of hot chocolate, and a multitude of candy bars.
At the bottom of the box was a note with a name on it that I didn't recognize, but a message that immediately brought tears to my eyes and gratitude to my heart.
"You are ENOUGH. You are a beautiful daughter of God. He loves you. You will survive this!!"
There, in black and white, was God's personal message to me from someone in Alabama that I had never met personally.
I tried to rub the goosebumps off my arms as I read through the note again and again, feeling love and peace and gratitude uplift me in ways that I could never have imagined mere moments before.
I hadn't told anyone outside of my parents, a sister, and my sponsor what had happened this week, and yet here was a gift from Kari in Alabama, giving me the message I needed so desperately at exactly the moment I needed to hear it.
God loves His children, and He gives them miracles--MIRACLES--when they need them most.
He loves me, broken and shattered and weak as I am, He loves me.
Broken heart and all.
How grateful I am that my God loves broken things.
