For several years I was a slave to the sin of pornography. God was constantly, consistently drawing me back, but it took a few years for me to turn from my sin and seek help. In the spring of 2009, I called a friend of mine from Bible college, who happens to be a Biblical counselor, and asked for help.
The first three months were up and down, like walking down an up escalator. I was on my way up, no doubt about it, but I was choosing again and again to return to my sin.
There was a turning point, a bottom-of-the-barrel moment. They (the ubiquitous "they") say that drug addicts and alcoholics must also reach an absolute low before they can truly recover. My bottom was not a DUI or arrest for narcotics possesion. Mine was knowing God loves me.
He loves me. And He deserves more than I was giving Him. I understood that my life was not glorifying God. Oh, only 4 people knew of my struggle, but Satan does not always have to destroy us, as Christians -- he only needs to make us ineffective. And I certainly was that.
It was a beautiful August day. I was returning from my counseling appointment, driving along a winding country road on a steep downhill grade. Replaying in my mind the conversation with Faye and berating myself for hiding from her that I had again, just this week, given into temptation and spent time in fantasizing. Feeling guilt, self-disgust, self-loathing.
Wanting simply to die.
Because, certainly, God doesn't want me living this way and I am not helping spread the Kingdom, so why not end it.
And I was driving along a cliff, the perfect opportunity right outside my window.
But I had a visiioin of my family: father, mother, sister, brothers, in-laws and nephews, all looking at me in my coffin. No one in my family has accepted the sacrifice Jesus made on the cross, though over the years they have become less adamant when telling me they don't want to hear it. But I saw them at my funeral, looking at the results of suicide and saying, "She followed God and this is what it got her. I'm not following that God." And turning away.
Oh God, save me! I don't want that!
That was my bottom. And unfathomable victory followed.
For several months, at least. Until the following February. Within one work-week, I had three different people offer to help me with my job. This should not, necessarily cause one's world to flip upside down. However, when one's job is one's security and that foundation is shaken -- because they wouldn't be offering "help" if I wasn't doing it wrong -- then it becomes a problem.
Did you pick up on that? when one's job is one's security
And I stumbled. Fell. Hard. It took me nearly nine months to again reach that place of victory. I'm actually not sure I've ever really gotten back. Certainly I still struggle more than I wish I did.
Why such a long description and explanation of something from over 2 years ago?
Because today I will learn whether or not I lose my job. Through no fault of my own. Simply another casualty of the economy.
I am scared. I am a single woman with working disability. I won't find another job, and I won't get unemployment because you have to be willing and able to work any job and not quit, and can I survive on disability alone? I don't know what comes next.
But for God's glory: I have not returned to the false comfort of sin. For several days now my prayer has been, "I am frightened. Help me to trust you."
God is not demanding fearlessness. He is not wagging a disappointed finger at me for admitting my fear. He simply wants me to turn to Him with it. It provides Him with the opportunity to show His care, guidance, mercy, and power.
I am in a vulnerable spot right now. The idea of the knight in shining armor to carry me from all my troubles is a temptation. But I am on my guard. Prayer and Scripture are the immovable rock in the stormy sea.
That is my strength in the midst of vulnerability.