Complete Brokenness (Like Never Before)

Folks, it’s going to be a long one.
I'm going to go ahead and be honest, which is difficult for me, because this is extremely personal and recent and still pretty raw; this summer has not been the best summer ever. For a while, I was doing pretty well, pretty great, actually. I had been really discouraged about not finding a job, but then Pet Supplies “Plus” hired me. That was awesome. Then a nightmare from my past showed up to say hello. As I was getting ready for my second day of work, I woke up on my bathroom floor—terrified and confused. I wasn’t used to the feeling of all the sudden waking up, not knowing where you are, anymore. I had forgotten that feeling. For a week or so after my seizure, back on my medication, and prohibited from driving, I was depressed. I thought I had that stupid problem beat. Apparently not. However, I realized the enemy was just using this to attack my faith. I decided not to let that happen, and I clung to the strength God was giving me.

I was doing well again. I was happy and off to spend a week with my dad’s side of the family at Magers’ Fest. On the way there, our van broke down, and we were stranded for four hours. My mom was a wreck. About two hours into our struggle of trying to find a rental car, my best friend called me and gave me some terrible news. Her brother was killed by an IED in Afghanistan. No. That was not possible. God would not make me go through this again. He would not make the Hunsbergers endure this pain, the indescribable pain of loss.

But it happened. It was real. Kelsey was hurting in a way I experienced just over a year ago. My heart broke; my soul ached. I spent the next few weeks beside her, helping her in any way possible. I knew how she felt, and I was hurting for her and her family with my whole being. I was overwhelmed—hurting for her, hurting for her family, and hurting for myself. While dealing with my special, special friend, so many emotions from my past were re-surfacing. Emotions that I gave so much effort to bury in order not to deal with them, were smacking me in the face. They were ripping my heart out and tearing it to pieces. For so long, I had been avoiding the pain, and now it was surrounding me. It was difficult to think, to breathe, to love, to smile, to pray, to heal. The next few weeks would be the darkest of dark times for me.

One would think that I would be praying for strength from God at this point. While I would whisper little “prayers” asking for comfort and strength, I wasn’t really giving God the time of day….I wasn’t really, sincerely, talking to Him, asking for His help. I was emotionally, physically, and spiritually exhausted. I had been holding on to that ledge so tightly, but my muscles lost every ounce of strength, and I let go. I began to fall. I fell at a rapid pace. But I was so drained and so weary, I couldn’t even try to grab a hold of anything along the way down to wherever I was falling. The whole time I was free falling, I knew this was what Satan intended. He wanted me to be too weak to cry out for help. He wanted me to be at my breaking point and not be strong enough to hold fast. The stupid thing was, I didn’t care. I stopped caring when I grew so weary. I was weak. I became spiritually unhealthy. I couldn’t worship in my two favorite ways—writing and singing. I couldn’t do it if I tried. I couldn’t envision something beautiful that used to bring such comfort to me. Darkness surrounded me. I felt oppressed, attacked, and just dark. But I didn’t search for the Light.

However, I put on a show, because people still complimented me on my faith. They commended me for how well I was holding up with everything that was happening. I lied to their faces and thanked them. I am ashamed of this.

So, this past week, Axis was fasting and praying for the healing of some friends. I said I would fast on Thursday. I knew that I wasn’t strong at this point, but I hadn’t realized just how far I had fallen from the Truth. Thursday came around, and I fasted and prayed throughout the day, but by noon, I hadn’t heard from God. My prayers, I felt, were one-sided. Consequently, I decided to sit in my room and just pray and try to listen. I begged God for anything. A single word. I heard nothing. I was extremely discouraged. While sitting on my bed for about a half hour, feeling so defeated and at the end of my rope, I suddenly heard the song:

“Please be still. Please be still. Please be still, and know that I am God.”

It was that simple. God just wanted me to sit and be still and know. Just know that He is. God. So, I sat there, and I knew. I didn’t think about anything….just the fact that He was, is, and will be…God. I walked away feeling calm, but still distant from my Lord. I hadn’t walked away from my faith; I just fell, and didn’t make an effort to stop myself from falling any farther (further?). While I was still sitting on my bed, before I heard the song, I examined my life and realized that I was stumbling down a dark path. I realized what was happening. I realized how weary and weak I had become. I was no warrior for Christ that was for sure. My hope was quickly dwindling. My fists that were clenched so firmly around God’s hand just let go. I could have called for help. I could have asked for strength. I could have asked for comfort. But I didn’t. I was defeated. I knew what the enemy was doing, and I didn’t fight; I didn’t defend. I failed.

The rest of that day, like I said, I was calm. But even though I was calm, I was in what may have been the darkest place I had ever experienced. Losing my dad was dark, but I held fast to my hope at that point. In this dark cave, I had little hope left. I had no Light. I was alone. I felt exactly like I did when I came out of my seizures, terrified, confused, and COMPLETELY alone. Let me just say, feeling absolutely one hundred percent alone, may be the worst feeling in the world. I was sick, congested, alone, scared, holding onto what little faith was left, and falling. I went to sleep around one in the morning, crying. I woke up around three in the morning, still congested, alone, scared, hope dwindling, and falling. Oh, and I was incredibly ashamed. I was ashamed, because I had been taught better than this, I knew better than this. I couldn’t believe how far I had let myself fall. I knew enough to have turned to the Lord before I let myself go this far. I felt like a real fool. So ashamed. It was simple; I was broken—completely and utterly broken. I honestly had never felt this literally broken before now.

I cried. I couldn’t fall back asleep. As I lay there in my own puddle of darkness, anguish, and despair, I decided to watch Arrested Development. What else would I do? I couldn’t sleep. But as I pulled out my computer, I remembered reading something one of my good friends wrote when she was posting about her experiences that week. She said she was giving up television for the week, because it had become such a distraction—an “escape.” I really admire and look up to this special friend, so I decided to try her tactics. I pulled out my Bible, not having a clue what to read. When I set it in front of me, I suddenly knew I should turn to Psalms chapter thirty. All of Psalm thirty spoke to me, but when I read verses nine and ten, I knew I wasn’t able to sleep for a reason. I knew I heard “Psalm thirty” for a reason.

“What gain is there in my destruction, in my going down into the pit? Will the dust praise you? Will it proclaim your faithfulness? Hear, O Lord, and be merciful to me; O Lord, be my help.”

I was falling into the pit, but for what? What could that possibly do to better my faith or display God’s love to the world—which was once my desire? It was my desire when just months ago, I was able to stand up in front of the church and speak of an encounter with God and the joy that filled me and the awesome hope that I held onto with everything inside of me. Somewhere along the way, I lost that. And losing it wasn’t doing anything for anyone. So, I knew that these verses were speaking to my situation, but in a way they just made me feel guiltier, more shameful.
But God wasn’t done. I decided to turn back a few pages—my eyes fell upon Psalms chapter twenty-five. I understood when I read verses one through three:

“To you, O Lord, I lift up my soul; in you I trust, O my God. Do not let me be put to shame, nor let my enemies triumph over me. No one whose hope is in you will ever be put to shame, but they will be put to shame who are treacherous without excuse.”

Is it not obvious that turning to these verse wasn’t just coincidence? But even then, I was upset about my loss of strength—my weak bones, my weary soul, my broken heart—my complete brokenness. I read on. Psalm twenty-eight, verses six through eight:

“Praise be to the Lord, for he has heard my cry for mercy. The Lord is my STRENGTH and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and I am helped. My heart leaps for joy and I will give thanks to him in song. The Lord is the STRENGTH of his people, a fortress of salvation for his anointed one.”

Seriously?

Then came my favorite, Psalm twenty-nine. Please, read this chapter. It is beautiful and powerful. I love EVERY word, but I won’t quote all of it; however, I am going to quote some of my favorite parts, which is an ample amount.

Verse one: “Ascribe to the Lord, O mighty ones, ascribe to the Lord glory and STRENGTH”

Verses three and four: “The voice of the Lord is over the waters, the God of glory thunders, the Lord thunders over the mighty waters. The voice of the Lord is powerful; the voice of the Lord is majestic.” What powerful imagery! Beautiful.

Verses seven through eleven: “ The voice of the Lord strikes with flashes of lightning. The voice of the Lord shakes the desert; the Lord shakes the Desert of Kadesh. The voice of the Lord twists the oaks and strips the forests bare. And in his temple all cry, ‘Glory!’ The Lord sits enthroned as King forever. The Lord gives STRENGTH to his people; the Lord blesses his people with peace.”

You cannot tell me that is not powerful and beautiful. If my God’s VOICE can shake the desert and strip the forests bare, and thunder over mighty waters, and strike with flashes of lightning, how could I ever fall far enough that he won’t catch me? Keep in mind, this is JUST HIS VOICE. Think how much more he could do with more than just his voice. I may have lost all of my strength, but it would just be plain idiotic of me to ever think my Lord doesn’t have enough strength for the both of us.

Then, I read Psalm thirty-one, which tied it all together for me.
Verses one through five:
“In you, O Lord, I have taken refuge; let me NEVER BE PUT TO SHAME; deliver me in your righteousness. Turn your ear to me, come quickly to my rescue; be my rock of refuge, a STRONG fortress to save me. Since you are my rock and my fortress, for the sake of your name lead and guide me. FREE ME from the trap that is set for me, for you are my refuge. Into your hands I commit my spirit; redeem me, O Lord, the God of truth.”

Now, I’ll be honest with you, the bulk of these verses didn’t really hit me until I got home from camping today and re-read them, because Thursday night, I was so far down—I was too weary to fully grasp everything being thrown at me. The rest of the weekend was still a struggle for me. And it has taken me a while to understand exactly why it was such a struggle for me to simply ask for more strength. But I realized I was afraid that if God did strengthen my faith, the enemy would throw something else tragic at me, just to test me again. And I knew there was no way on earth I could deal with anything else at this point. Obviously, I can deal with it, because I have just learned that God will never run out of strength for me, but it is still a fear that if I continue to press on and fight the good fight, terrible things will keep happening. I know that if they do, they will inevitably take a toll on my faith, and me but regardless, I am so much stronger, so much more complete than if I was fighting alone—no matter how weary I am, even with God on my side.

While I am being completely honest with the world and all it’s facebook friends, I need to admit that another reason these times have been so dark for me, is because I am dealing with an insane amount of anger. I am angry about my dad’s death, my seizures, Travis’ death, my mom’s never-ending health issues, the fact that I am heading off to college without my dad, my brother going through high school without a dad, my other brother going through crappy college issues without his best friend—his father, my mom being alone for the rest of her life, not feeling fed spiritually….the list goes on. I am missing my dad more than I have in a long time right now, and I don’t talk about it, and I can’t deal with it, because it is WAY too painful. I avoid it for as long as I can, but I know I can’t avoid it forever. But I can’t even describe how painful it is to sort through my feelings and how to deal with the fact that he is just gone. Gone. I can’t deal with it, and it makes me angry that I even have to deal with it. It makes me angry that anyone has to at all. I am full of anger. I am angry at God for these things, but now that I have had all of these “epiphanies” with Psalms and what not, I am more willingly dealing with these issues with God himself, rather than pushing it all down, day after day—only making it worse when I finally HAVE to deal with the pain. So, though it will be a process—probably a long one—I am on my way to healing. I would even say it feels like starting high school over, because my faith was so strong at the beginning of the summer, and I fell so far—but like I said, I will heal—I am healing. Plus, when I think about it, high school went pretty fast.

To everyone I have been lying to and hurting and disappointing, I am so sorry. It hurts me to know that I may have disappointed anyone. To everyone that taught me better, I am sorry. I wish I didn’t have to admit to you that I have been struggling so much, and I have been in one of the darkest places I have ever experienced. I’m sorry if you thought I was stronger than this, and I am sorry that I disappointed you, but I am doing my best to build my faith back up to where it was a few months ago.

Friends, this is where I have been this summer—in a dark and lonely place. I don’t want to go back, but I know this life isn’t easy, and I know I will stumble again. I may even fall farther than I have this summer, but the beauty of it is, I can always find the Truth somewhere. Eventually, it will hit me in the face, probably when I least expect it.

My anger is still present, but God and I are dealing with it, no matter how long it takes, because it may take awhile. Hope is in sight now, and I am running towards it, full force. With open arms, I embrace it. Joy is creeping into my being. My eyes are open, and I am beginning to see my beautiful vision again. My heart is healing, and I am able to love people again—my only desire is to love like Jesus, again. My strength is re-building, and my soul is excited and yearning. I am climbing out of this pit of darkness, and Light fills me. The journey may be strenuous, but in the end, it is so worth it. It will be worth it.

(I know this is long already, but I need to thank everyone who prays for me and loves me and supports me and cares about me and helps me through this crazy life. I am forever grateful to you. Thank you for teaching me in so many different ways about so many different things and about our awesome, powerful God. Also, I really hope Axis went well on Sunday. I’m sorry I wasn’t there; I just needed to process, and I wasn’t at the right spot. I didn’t want to screw it up, but I am so excited to see how God moves…..Also, I may have technically cited the verses wrong, but I’m not really sure how to “technically” cite verses! I should probably learn that.) Sorry so long! Love.