Alone - Faith Sisters Scrapbooking Gallery

Paper: KI Memories, DCWV CS
Brads: Spare parts

Journaling:
It was the year of hell. Senior years are supposed to be wonderful times, filled with fun, plans for college, and special times with friends. My family still refers to mine as the year of Hell. Everything that could go wrong did. Things that were never supposed to go wrong-did. One catastrophe after another; and my normally orderly life had become a universe filled with chaos.
Throughout it all, my mother held firm to her faith. Many times, she would share with me some truth she had mined from Scripture. Always quick to reassure me, God is in control. And another catastrophe would happen, life would get worse- and my universe would get even more chaotic.
Everyone has a breaking point. Mine was when my Grandfather, the man who had been a second father to me, died. As I was standing there, literally screaming in my pain, my mother reached out and pulled me close. She whispered into my ear the one thing that had brought her comfort throughout all this, the one thing meant to bring me comfort: God is in control, He has a plan.
I broke. I stood there and shook my puny fist at the heavens, and sent my Maker away. I told God that if this was the best He could do with my life, I was quite sure I could do better! He was welcome to leave. And the most amazing thing happened...He did.
I was alone. It is a fearsome and profoundly desolate thing when the Lord of Hosts removes His Presence from you. Like a parent stepping out of sight of a small child, I am very sure God never went far- but it was far enough. I was alone- well and truly, amazingly alone. So all encompassing was this, that I still associate the color black with this period of my life. I literally see black in my memories. I wish there were words to describe this, there aren't. I've since heard Hell described as a place where God, His Presence and His love, will be removed from. I understand this very well.
I am a strong willed person. I have always considered stubborn to be a pride point. It took two months of being alone for me to come back. My precious Grandmother, through her own grief and pain, somehow saw what was happening. She insisted my family go to church. When Grandma insisted, we listened. So, into church we went- the very day of the quarterly communion service. When I refused to take Communion, my Mother understood there was something wrong. I don't remember what she said. But, somehow, she convinced me to try and meet God half way. I could hang onto my anger a while longer- but I would reach out and at least listen to what God had to say.
It was two weeks later that I gave my heart and life to the Lord in baptism. And it has been almost 21 years from that day to this. I wish I could tell you that it has all been a glowing mountaintop experience. I wish that I could tell you that I have never faced trials, tests or tribulations. I can't. Christ never promises an easy life. I have suffered loss, questions, and hardships of many sort. What I can tell you is this: Christ has kept His promise to me. I have never been alone, again.

"Lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the age."