I couldn’t say that particular morning, that my day was going to be a good one. But sometimes the right people step into your day for the right reason for the right time.
I remember it so clearly.
I was behind on everything. I was feeling disjointed and agitated for no reason, a familiar symptom of my chronic D.
I hadn’t slept, I felt depleted of all focus, I didn’t even know how to say what was wrong.
I was feeling like hightailing it back to the covers on my bed that didn’t judge me, need anything from me, or require clear thought.
I was only up for an hour before I felt like I had been battling for 24 of them already.
“Lord, you’re going to have to give me a way through.” I had been praying it non-stop.
And the phone immediately rings.
I saw the name of one of my sister-warrior-friends pop up on the screen and as much as I love her, my brain instantly set up a swift barrage of lies and defaults.
“You can’t answer that. You don’t have it in you to pretend. Heck, you don’t have it in you to make conversation at all. You don’t need to burden anyone.”
Depression and mood disorders in general can hijack all reason, making you avoid things, run from things, deny things, believe things you shouldn’t.
I’m sure the enemy loves that it does all the work for him.
The phone rings again.
A simple phone call can feel like it’s hanging over you with this impossible weight.
Lord, am I really going to have to form words right now?
I’m so thankful for a God who hears our cries and answers, not just with the spiritual deep-calling-to-deep, but also supplies in our most immediate need.I'm so thankful for a God who hears our cries and supplies in our most immediate need. Click To Tweet
And pressed into my spirit, over the noise of the chronic D’s hiss, was this answer: “I’m giving you a way through.”
And on the other end of the phone were the words, “You’ve been on my heart, huge, today.”
And what proceeded was a flood of love and words that freed and dispelled gloom, and she didn’t know I wept freedom-tears while she continued her one-sided convo on what she wanted me to hear that day, what God kept prodding her with, so that eventually she relented and called, and was this weird, and making sense to me, and…
And it was a river of words. She built, and built, and gave, and gave, and her words were like medicine, and so filled with the Healer that the dysthymia had to shrink and release the hold it had attempted to shackle me with.
I later gave thanks. Big, sweeping, huge, grateful, blown-away thanks. That He had already known hours before I even negotiated with myself to get out of bed that I was going to need incentive to keep going. That I would lift a desperate harried cry. That He had placed me on someone’s heart, someone who is in tune with her Savior at all times and would step out and be an instrument of His without even asking why. That she obeyed with uplifting, freeing, equipping truths without realizing the actual impact they would have.
That He would strengthen me enough to pick up and say hello.
That He would gift me with her voice to carry me through the day.
That He would even gift me with her friendship, period, to be standing in the gap for me like that.
He had the right person for the right time.
Sometimes, that’s how He moves.
Sometimes His way of being with us in person is to bring us a person that will bring us to Him.Sometimes His way of being with us in person is to bring us a person that will bring us to Him. Click To Tweet
And so, today, when someone’s face came to mind in prayer, and couldn’t stop until something was done about it?
I asked Him to make me sensitive.
I asked Him to make me an open vessel, an instrument of His voice.
I asked Him for all the words.
And then I dialed.
It was the least I could do.
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