FixedonHope

against all hope, believe.

A light in the storm.


To say it’s been a tough few weeks would be an understatement. But nonetheless, as I have not the slightest bit of strength left in me to revisit those moments and convey them to you, I’ll settle for this…

It’s been a tough few weeks.

Whether it was the lunar cycle affecting my female cycle, affecting the Lyme & co bacteria cycle, affecting the treatment cycle, WHO KNOWS. What I do know was that it was utter hell in every which way possible, and I found myself crying out to God almost daily to beam me up to heaven and out of my body–out of the unbearable pain.

But thankfully, He brought me out of that storm yet again (as He always does), and now I’m finally catching my breath after much struggling and splashing amidst the surging waters. I don’t know about you but chronic pain (in my case Lyme and old injury induced) can tend to leave me feeling like a weak swimmer out in the open sea, desperately clutching onto any floating object that comes near, doing my best to save my energy in the calm before the waves come crashing against me yet again, tossing me to and fro, above and beneath, and all the while gasping for breath and fighting just to remain above water.

If I’m lucky, I can float rather uninterrupted in these calmer conditions for a week, possibly two, at a time before a flare up comes, whether one day in length or three, to jolt me off. Then, quite frequently these days, a bigger wave will come, seemingly out of nowhere, and cast me under once again. Submerged in the darkness and bewilderment of those deep waters, I can often lose myself for a moment, too tired to believe I can keep up the fight to stay alive. Too beat down by the gales and swells of the storm to believe I can keep paddling. Too ravaged by the gusts and worn to such an extent that I’m tempted to let myself sink and let go of the buoy of hope; of ever finding safe harbor again, of ever making it safely to shore.

But if I’ve learned anything in the last two years of battling this illness, it’s this: that in order to survive these turbulent times, which inevitably will come, it is necessary–no, imperative–to keep your eyes fixed on the lighthouse that will lead you to shelter. The lighthouse that will remind you of a hope that’s secure, a hope that is sure, a hope that won’t be easily obscured, even in the darkest of nights or fiercest of storms. This light is what keeps me paddling, keeps me swimming toward shore even when I’ve lost sight of any hint of land. It guides me in the direction I know I must head. It steers me back onto course when the current has swept me away. It restores my focus and perception when I have let myself drift off into dangerous waters. It rights me when I can’t tell left from right or up from down. And it comforts me when I’m caught up in the swirl of the circumstances and the ensuing emotions that follow.

This lighthouse I speak of is one that towers above all others, one that can be trusted more than any other. When lost at sea there can be many flashes of false hope, many blinking lights that can confuse and distract you from the constant and credible beam that breaks through the haze. The true light. The light that shines through the darkness. The light that cannot be overcome. The light that lights the way, that leads to life, that rescues and saves.

“What is this light, and how might I recognize and find it?” you may ask.

The answer is not a what or a how, however, but a WHO. The light that I speak of is a person, comprised of three, who bears the name that has the strength to save from any level of storm. He is called many names, all with equal weight, all bearing power and might. I call Him Father. I call Him Helper. I call Him Lord. And He has sent His Son to save. I call Him Jesus. I call Him Savior. I call Him friend.

He is the True Light that has come into this world, not to condemn, but to expose and to save. He is my Deliverer, the One who walks on water, the One who beckons the storm to still, the One who carries me across to dry land. He is my shelter in the storm. My stronghold. The Rock on which I stand.

I cannot put it in any lovelier terms than these:

“Their ships were tossed to the heavens
    and plunged again to the depths;
    the sailors cringed in terror.
 They reeled and staggered like drunkards
    and were at their wits’ end.
 Lord, help!” they cried in their trouble,
    and he saved them from their distress.
 He calmed the storm to a whisper
    and stilled the waves.

What a blessing was that stillness
    as he brought them safely into harbor!”

Psalm 107:26-30, NLT

And there you have it. All of God’s steadfast love and delivering desire wrapped up into one simple solution: 

Call upon Him.

He will navigate you through whatever storm you may face. There is no need to splash about in distress. There is no need to chase flickering lights that will only soon but fade away. Keep your focus on the light that won’t fail you. The light that won’t ever leave or die out, even in the midst of the most raging tempest. He is the beacon of hope that you can rely upon. Don’t let the currents of life, the confusion, doubt and unbelief, sweep you away. Keep your eyes fixed on the lighthouse that leads safely to shore. Let Him command your stormy seas to still.

I am not through the storm yet, but I know the way out. I trust and believe that He’ll lead me and guide me and comfort me in the midst of whatever I face. Even in the worst of days I know that He’s sending me a life-perserver of love and faith and strength to get me through. I know I must cling to Him in the roughest of waters, the most violent of storms. I know if I hold steady to Him, I won’t ever sink. He is still God and He is still Sovereign, no matter how hard the waves may hurl and toss.

So I’ll leave you with this prompting, dear friends:

Will you trust Him? Will you cling to the hope that’s secure? There’s nothing to risk with Him.

This world is not my home, and this body not my final habitation. But I can look forward toward a future that is calm and bright as I sail toward the horizon of His love. He is Sovereign in the storm. He is strong enough to save. Will you trust Him?

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1 Comment

  1. Virginia DeYoung

    May 16, 2016 at 7:05 pm

    This message is exactly what I needed to hear today!!! I am struggling so much right now from toxic mold poisoning which attacked my thyroid and created an autoimmune disease of my thyroid called Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis, and activated a dormant Lyme Disease in my system to become full in Chronic Lyme Disease. My rental home is full of toxic mold and my body is riddled with biotoxins and inflammation. I took an unpaid medical leave from work because I couldn’t make a full week at 40 hours and 3 days prior to my return I was told my position was “eliminated”. So now I no longer have a job and I need to find a way to pay $4,500.00 to have my belongings decontaminated in order to avoid cross-contamination to a new house we will move to in June. I’m staying at an Extended Stay to get out of the toxic environment but have to go back every day to decontaminate and pack or throw away as much as possible. My 4 siblings have not helped me at all and it is the deepest hurt anyone can imagine.

    Thank you for helping me to look in the right direction for guidance and that He is watching over me and will help me to see the way. Some days are just much harder than others.
    God Bless,
    Virginia

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