And when all seems to be going well, after years of trials
and tribulations...
The rug is pulled out from under us and we are on the floor,
bruised and frustrated at the notion that “here we are again.”
There is this insatiable desire inside of me that wants to
be heard. It started when I was young, surrounded by parents that were
incredibly talented and intelligent. I was a dancer, a singer, and entertainer.
I whisked around the room like a whirlwind of wonder, in my own world, my own
dimension of a life that was filled with joy. I knew my God at a young age and believed anything was possible. So I dreamed impossible dreams that would fill my mind and become reality in the future.
As I got older and life got harder, that childlike whimsy
slowly faded into the deep abyss of my soul that kept it safe from the abuses
and torment I faced. The dreams diminished and I started to pull inward. Into a place where I spoke only
for other, to advocate for their little child, the place that gets stolen and
wounded far too often and way too young.
The passionate resolve to raise my children without the
labels, the curses, the bullying, the abuse… created this outspoken women in me
that had no tolerance for the neglect, abuse or bullying of children. I became
fierce and intense, ready to fight anyone who stood against the innocence of
the generation of children growing up with my own children.
As adulthood overtook me and my childhood became a distant
memory I can hardly remember, the things that once shaped me, that once molded
me started to show in my own children. I saw glimpses of myself in them and it
gave me a subtle peace that there was still hope in this world.
But the darkness left a mark on me. On my husband. It
disfigured our souls and fogged our vision. As we came out of the darkness and
into the light, we started business as usual, working jobs, paying bills, being
parents, doing the things that make us human. But we have never been the same.
On the other side of the darkness, gray hair frolicked on my
head, and framed my husband’s face. Deep crevices began to show up on our faces
and our vision became skewed. Children becoming adults, husbands and parents,
hit us with the reality that, although we survived and made it through the
darkness, the years of holding on, had worn us out.
Then, a bright light, a spotlight beamed down on us.
Redemption. A time to reclaim what was lost. We were presented with an
opportunity to open another restaurant using our concept and recipes from
Rhema, almost 11 years later, to the date. It was unreal, exciting, and
adventurous. The embers of our visionary souls began to ignite and burn with a
fury. Our chef and my husband were at it again, doing the very thing that they
were created to do. We moved our entire family to Lancaster to open the
restaurant. Reviews were high, food and
service was amazing and we could see the success of the restaurant ahead of us.
Then, as if in a movie, written to give the viewer a twist
in the story, it all came crashing to a halt. The owners opened before they had
their beer and wine license, and expected to make money the first month they
opened. When they didn’t they began to point fingers and blame and falsely
accuse. They became volatile and threatening, even though the issues were
because of their bad choices and impatience. Five weeks after they opened, they
finally received the beer and wine license and had the best financial weekend
since they opened. Exactly what my husband told them would happen. But they
were already convinced that the fault was with my husband and the chef and
fired them.
They stole our concept, recipes, didn’t wanted to pay their salaries, because they were the highest paid employees and then left us
out to dry. Just 5 weeks after we signed a one year housing lease, we are
without a job.
So we sit here, on the floor, the rug pulled out from underneath
us. Lifting our hands to God, trying to praise Him through another storm.
Another storm, another storm. Another battle to fight. I know my God is
faithful. I know He will provide. I know He will walk us through this. But my
arms are weary. For 11 years, as we entered the darkness, through the darkness
and coming out of the darkness… we have lifted our hands to praise our God in the
storm. But I am tired, I am weak.
I see the patterns, the years of things being stolen from
us, since we were first married. Things that were taken because of other people’s
wickedness, other people’s lies and deceit. I see a pattern of us doing what is
right, standing, going above and beyond, creating new ideas, developing systems
and organizations, giving, helping and then someone else coming in and stealing
the position or promotion or opportunity from us. People have accused of many
things that have put us in these situations… but when you pursue God and
righteousness, sometimes trials perfect our faith in a way that feels too much
and too long. Sometimes it’s just God positioning His children for things we can’t
even imagine. I hope, I believe that the last 25 years is what this has been.
I am sitting on the bare, cold floor, weeping, crying out to
God. Wondering why Lord, why? At some point, all this has to account for
something right? There has to be a time when the time of carrying a child is
done and you give birth. There is a promised land that was inhabited by God’s
people, and they eventually lived in that space. At what point does all the
stolen things get returned?
I am not moving. I am not getting up to try and make
something happen. I am not fretting, not worrying, not planning, and not
dreaming. I am just sitting. Sitting and weeping. Sitting and praising. Sitting
and praying.
Of course we are doing our due diligence, applying for jobs,
taking whatever we can get. We still have to pay bills. But I am not standing,
I am not walking or running for now. The darkness looms and I want to be held
in my Saviors arms. I want rest in His presence. I just want to be near Him, so
I don’t fall into a place that steals from us again.
I want to be a child again, and whisk around the room in childlike wonder, believing that anything is possible and dreams come true, when God is your champion. So I sit in His arms until I can see that little girl inside me again.
