Are you OK?

“Are you o.k.?” People keep asking me this. I know they mean well…and if you have asked me this; be assured I know you mean well too. But I don’t know what to say besides, “Yes, I’m o.k. but I’m tired.” What I really mean is, “No! I am not o.k. It’s going to be a long time for me to be o.k.....and I am tired too!"

People tell me I am strong. I don’t feel strong. People tell me I am taking it well. Honestly, I’m not. Maybe I shouldn’t be so honest on a public forum. What do I know?

This is how I view it and just maybe you can understand.

Most of us know how it’s said, “God is the potter and we are clay.” He shapes and molds us into something beautiful.

Well right now I feel like an unshaped, unattractive, unusable object that is fit for very little if any use. My grief has left me wanting to shrink away from people and to be alone but at the same time I am afraid to be alone. My sister came over today while Chris took my mom to the airport so I don’t have to be alone. Why? Because when I am alone I am left to face the silence and in my silence my grief seems to wash over me. I have been having a hard time praying. It’s not that I don’t feel close to God and it’s not that I don’t feel His peace.

It’s just the fact that right now I don’t feel much like talking to anyone. Talking is….painful. When the kids are napping I have either had the distraction of my mom, dad, Chris, or the TV. It’s not quiet. To really commune with God means I am going to have to be alone, in the quiet, and talk to my Savior. He doesn’t often speak to us in the storm or the strong winds but in a still small voice. The Bible says we have to “be still” to hear this. We have to quiet our hearts and our minds and silence the distractions around us to truly hear Him speak to our hearts.

But it’s in the quiet times the tears want to come. Nobody wants to feel exposed but for God to get at the problem He has to open our hearts and expose the pain. It hurts to be exposed. It’s painful to confront grief and heartache. It just plain hurts.

That’s why I reference the potter and clay. For clay to be molded and formed into something useful it has to be pushed and pulled and pressed and tugged and smashed down and rebuilt. That’s how I feel right about now. I am being pushed and pulled and smashed. It hurts. It’s painful. It’s not fun. I feel exposed beneath the Savior’s hands as He opens the weak spots revealing my pain and hurt.

But what we often don’t realize is in the midst of the shaping is that He is not pushing and pulling too hard. He is not trying to break us. He is shaping us with the right amount of pressure to turn us from something unshaped and unusable into something that is beautiful and something that is fit for His use. It hurts. It’s not fun. It might even feel like it will never end and just when we think we can’t take anymore we get placed in the fire. It huts even more. The fire rages around us pulling out any imperfections and weakness that has been left. The heat closes those exposed wounds and seals them tight.

And when you think you can’t stand it alone you realize the Potter has been there the whole time. Waiting and watching for the right moment to pull you out. And when the fires have cooled and the Master examines His work you have gone from unshaped and useless to something fit to be used by the King of Kings. You realize all those dark and painful spots have only added beauty to the final product. And in your joy you look over at the other unshaped lumps of clay and you say, “Hey! They are about to go through the same painful shaping I just did. Maybe I can help. I can let them know the painful part will come to an end and there is hope!”

That’s how I look at it. But I am still not even close. I am still in the lumpy phase. Still being painfully shaped into something…..

That’s when family and prayers help. We need encouragement and support and love from both the Savior and our earthly family and friends. We need support from the others who have been through the fire. We need others rallying around us saying, “I’ve been there! You are right; it does hurt. But you will make it through and I am going to pray for you as the fire rages around you.” I’ve been amazed at how many people have “been there.”

But even if I was alone I know I am never truly alone.

Maybe Franny Crosby can express it better than I could in my feeble mumblings.

Words: Fanny Crosby,

All the way my Savior leads me;
What have I to ask beside?
Can I doubt His tender mercy,
Who through life has been my Guide?

Heav’nly peace, divinest comfort,
Here by faith in Him to dwell!
For I know, whate’er befall me,
Jesus doeth all things well;
For I know, whate’er befall me,
Jesus doeth all things well.

All the way my Savior leads me,
Cheers each winding path I tread;
Gives me grace for every trial,
Feeds me with the living Bread.
Though my weary steps may falter,
And my soul athirst may be,
Gushing from the Rock before me,
Lo! A spring of joy I see;
Gushing from the Rock before me,
Lo! A spring of joy I see.

All the way my Savior leads me
O the fullness of His love!
Perfect rest to me is promised
In my Father’s house above.
When my spirit, clothed immortal,
Wings its flight to realms of day
This my song through endless ages—
Jesus led me all the way;
This my song through endless ages—
Jesus led me all the way.