I Raise My Hands
“God has every right and my permission to rearrange my life at any time, in any place, in any way in order to fulfill His plan, for its influence, to His glory.”
I repeated the lines over and over to myself, attempting to burn them into my memory, until I could get home and carefully write them in the front cover of my Bible. A beloved high-school teacher had challenged us with those words and I was eager to apply them to my life. His challenge sounded noble and adventurous to me at the time. Imagine what God could do with a teenager, sold out to Jesus in every possible way. Sure, there might be some hard things – maybe even danger – but it was all for the cause of Christ. I couldn’t wait to see how God would work! When my parents decided to go to the mission field, it seemed like God was making my prayers come true. We would be moving to another country, with political unrest, and we would be fierce, brave testimonies for the gospel. I was sure that Jesus would use us in big ways for His glory!
And so we went through packing and deputation and all the changes that come with moving to another country, to the “mission field”. And God did use us. We went through culture shock and language frustrations and relationship conflicts. God worked in us and changed us. But really, when I copied the words of that promise into the front cover of my Bible, I had no clue what I was really writing. Moving overseas to tell others about Jesus made perfect sense to me. All of my heroes were missionaries. I had grown up on the stories of Amy Carmichael and Gladys Aylward and Mary Slessor, John and Betty Stam and Jim and Elisabeth Elliot. I knew missions would be hard and I wasn’t really afraid. It all made sense. A person who was truly following Jesus would leave everything behind and go to another country and suffer and have hardship and see Jesus lifted high.
After a while, I left the country where we served to go to college. I grew up. I got married. I had dreams of my husband and I (and eventually our children) visiting my parents overseas and occasionally helping with the ministry there. I remember vividly the day I got a phone call from my mom. She said she was returning to the States to try to work on her and my dad’s marriage. Although I was concerned, I figured they just needed some time away from ministry and therapy. I knew they had been through a lot of trauma and every marriage needs help occasionally.
During this time, my husband changed jobs and we moved out of state and bought a house. I accepted a part-time teaching position. That summer I got pregnant. And then everything changed in ways I never could have expected. I lost my first sweet baby. My parents’ marriage was irrevocably damaged. My dearly beloved grandmother passed away, Some of my siblings left the faith. I got pregnant again and had the most precious baby girl. But my heart ached deeply. The newness of motherhood and change of place and deep sense of loss grew heavy upon my heart. The sleepless nights only intensified my grief and a heavy fog settled over me. I was angry and so, so confused.
“God, what about the prayer I wrote in my Bible? I know I said You ‘have every right and my permission’….but how is this supposed to bring You glory? I don’t understand. This seems to be the complete opposite.”
I stood during countless worship services with tears streaming down my face. Those songs became my only means of prayer. I had no more words – they seemed so empty. And so I let those songs talk to God for me.
“Be still, there is a healer
His love is deeper than the sea
His mercy, it is unfailing
His arms are a fortress for the weak
Let faith arise
Let faith arise
I lift my hands to believe again
You are my refuge, You are my strength
As I pour out my heart, these things I remember
You are faithful, God, forever”
-Chris Tomlin, I Lift My Hands
I don’t have a miraculous ending to share with you. I came out of depression’s ugly grip in time. My family was not miraculously patched back together. I was humbled and brought to my knees. I began to understand that I was not the one to change the world. The story is not about me. The story is about the Healer, whose love is deeper than the sea.
I have walked through the Valley of the Shadow and I’ve been forever changed by it. But I know my Good Shepherd is always by my side. I trust the one who holds my life in His hands. He still has “every right and my permission to rearrange my life at any time, in any place, and in any way, in order to fulfill His plan, for its influence to His glory.”
Dear sister, maybe you are walking through the Valley of the Shadow right now. Maybe you are experiencing a Dark Night of the Soul. Maybe you can’t pray, maybe you are so, so angry, or just feel numb with grief. Don’t give up hope. The Healer is with you. His love is deeper than the sea. So lift up your hands.
If you believe you have depression, you are not alone. The only way to know how to treat your depression is to speak with your doctor. If you experience suicidal thoughts, you are not alone. Call or text the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at (800) 273-8255
