The Answer (Or: God’s Time is not Our Time)

I haven’t written in a while, for various reasons. June’s been busy, I was revising my book and adding a LOT of words to it (hopefully, making it better). Our family went on a vacation to upstate NY. Oh, and there’s been my battle with depression over a special intention I’d been praying and crying over for two solid years.
imageI’ve grappled with near-despair over this intention at times. I’ve had panic attacks, days (and even weeks) when it was all I could do to function. There were times when reading a news story that was tangentially related would throw me into depression again, holding back tears. I prayed for a healing — a miracle — through my tears; there were times when the Divine Office prayers were such a reflection of my own feelings that I could only sit and cry as I read the words silently.
At first, when I prayed, I begged God for that healing and change. I would pray to Him, “Lord, if it is Your will, I know You will do this for me.” I asked for my intention based on a spiritual good, and I didn’t think He would deny me. But there was also a chance that His plan was not mine, and so gradually my prayers changed and incluced much more of “Thy will be done” along with my pleas. It was a hard thing to pray, but I truly meant it.

I never stopped praying for this intention. I struggled with myself, and I had some incredible spiritual attacks during the last two years that had me feeling as if I were groveling at the feet of Jesus, begging Him to help me … to save me. Answer me, Lord! Do not leave me! I could not — and still cannot — talk specificlly about what the intention was. Maybe I will be able to at some point, but I just can’t right now. My husband is the only other soul who knows this intention, and he has held me over the last two years as I cried and ranted and begged God to help.

On Sunday morning, very unexpectedly, I learned that my intention had been granted by God.

Two years. Two years of praying and crying and begging and clinging to God (and barely hanging on) during horrific spiritual attacks. Two years of struggling with depression and the devil even whispering in my ear that I was a horrible person and I didn’t deserve to live any more. Two years of crying to Jesus in that moment and begging His help to call the devil out for the liar he is.

Two years.

Source: Wikimedia Commons, by JFXie

But God, in His mercy and goodness has answered my plea. Like the judge who granted the widow her request, He has answered me. He has reminded me that He, indeed, never left my side. He carried me through.

Thanks be to God for His great kindness and generosity.

Thanks be to God for His mercy and everlasting love.

Thanks be to God for the healing He granted.

Thanks be to God.

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One thought on “The Answer (Or: God’s Time is not Our Time)

  1. it breaks my heart that you have been suffering over something for two years and not shared with your Mom. I hope you know that I love you, I do not judge you at all, and I am here for you to cry to, complain to, or just talk to. I’m also very happy that your prayers have been answered and hope your depression and pain is over. ❤ ❤

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