I was planning to end my life. I dropped some cards in the mail to friends and family to remind them I loved them. I didn’t say goodbye – just reminded each of them I was grateful for having them in my life. I left one more in the door of a friend before I left for Nashville. As I headed south I wasn’t sure I was coming back alive. I’d told God He had to meet me there. He had to show me He was still in this with me or I was done. He had to save me.
It was October 2017. I was in the midst of a darkness I could hardly have words for. Sometimes I still don’t. I’d reached burnout in ministry, people I trusted betrayed me with their words and actions, and I was experiencing a level of spiritual warfare I didn’t even know existed.
I’d completely lost my identity and I didn’t know how to get it back. I was trying. Trying to pull my head out of the water. But it seemed every time I would try, something else would happen and I was drowning again. I didn’t know how to defend myself. I could no longer believe the truth about who I really was, despite who others said I was. In the midst of teaching others about who they are in Christ, I’d completely forgotten myself.
I felt lost, betrayed, rejected, broken, desolate, and unable to bounce back. I’d lost the grip on any truth about who I really was. My friend Louanne would call me almost every morning. She would remind me who I was. She would pray with me. I would cry. And I would try to remember. I tried so hard, but I just couldn’t. “You’re not who they say you are, SJ.” I tried so hard, but I just couldn’t.
The best thing I could do for myself and others was end it all, and I wanted to end it in a place my heart felt calm – Nashville – the place of dreams. I decided it would be easier for a stranger to find me, then those close to me. Oh how the enemy can grasp a hold of our souls so tightly. It breaks my heart to think that this was my life on that day.
I rented an RV through airbnb that sat behind the garage of some couple right outside of Nashville. I brought my guitar, my journal, my Bible, and the pills I was planning to take.
The Power of Friendship
But first, I’d made some plans with some friends who’d recently moved there. We were meeting for dinner. i sat over sushi with my friends Paul and Chelsia and their beautiful two-year old little girl. She greeted me with a hug I can’t explain. I hadn’t seen her since she was a newborn. But something about her hug reminded me of a deeper love. We caught up on life and I shared bits and pieces of my struggles, but I didn’t tell them where my heart really was. We went for ice cream after dinner and Chelsia’s contagious laughter made me laugh for the first time in a long time. I hugged them each and got one more hug from that sweet two-year old.
As we walked back to the car, Paul invited me to dinner at their house the next night. Chelsia assured me what an amazing cook he was and I would regret missing out, so I reluctantly agreed. I went back to the RV that night and wondered what was next. God, show me that I still have something worth living for, please.
I’m okay. I’m going to be okay. I trust You, Lord, in the eye of the storm. I’ve been running from God out of fear, punishing myself. He wont’ chase me down, but He’ll wait for me.
I kept saying “I’m sorry” to the Lord over and over again and He said to me, “Stop saying that and receive my love.” I sat in the emptiness and let Jesus hold me for the first time in a long time. I rocked in the arms of Jesus and wept.
When Others Empathize
The next day I had a mid-morning meeting with my friend, Jill. We hadn’t seen each other since a conference several years prior and we wanted to connect and get to know each other more. We started with coffee, but quickly got so caught up in conversation we moved to lunch. I didn’t tell her where my heart was, but I think she could read it on my face. She and her husband have served in ministry for many years. She understood the dark parts of ministry and leadership. She understood the rejection of others. She understood how the enemy uses people to attack the deepest parts of us.
For the first time, I sat across from someone who had an idea of what I was going through and I barely had to tell her what was happening. We made jokes and I laughed again. I wasn’t sure I could ever laugh again. She prayed with me before we left and it took everything in me not to snot bubble cry in the middle of the restaurant, but I pretended I was tough and fine and waited until I got to the car.
I drove around Nashville for a bit that day and dreamed. Dreamed about writing songs. Dreamed about moving back to that city. I asked God if He would consider letting me move back there. Nashville has always felt like a second home to me. I didn’t get an answer. I didn’t want to go back to the RV, because I knew what I was thinking about doing. I didn’t want to face it.
A few hours later I headed to Paul and Chelsia’s for dinner. As I walked through the door, this sweet beautiful resemblance of the love of God, jumped into my arms and greeted me. I remember smiling, but I remember something deeper – my heart smiled for the first time in a long time. We ate, we laughed, we laughed some more. Then we talked about depression and burnout and hopelessness. I don’t remember any life-changing words, but I do remember Paul sitting in his recliner and me feeling a sense of hope after he talked. I remember feeling like I wasn’t alone.
it was time to go back to the RV. Time to say goodbye. Time to end everything so I wouldn’t hurt anyone anymore. But in the pitch black dark, I managed to get my car stuck in the ditch. I knocked on the door with the bad news and Paul had to hook his truck up and pull my car out of the ditch. I felt like a fool, yet we laughed.
God Will Meet Us Where We Are
Back at the RV. My last night in Nashville. I would either go back home to the reality of sadness that awaited me or I could just end it all and go be with Jesus. I desperately just wanted to be with Jesus. I opened my journal again – a book filled with desperation, brokenness, tears. There was a part of my heart that wasn’t as desperate when I arrived. I need this to continue. I needed God to show me. I needed to know what my reality was. I desperately wanted to live, too.
I went to sleep exhausted. Exhausted from laughing with friends. Exhausted from ditching my car. Exhausted from running. Exhausted from despair. I woke up the next morning and immediately grabbed my journal and Bible. I’d had a dream the night before and I saw a spirit of chaos and confusion. I knew the Lord was speaking to me. I knew He wanted to sit down and talk. I knew He hadn’t left me.
Shame. I was dealing with so much shame. I had to let it go. I’d been trying to destroy myself because of shame, because of rejection, because of fear. It was easier to destroy myself than believe the truth about who I really was. I told God He had to help me love myself the way He loves others. I begged Him to help me get that truth back.
I had to let go of the worry and control of not being able to make everyone else’s hurts go away. I had to stop trying to play God. I had to focus on God healing me. I had to stop worrying about what others were saying about me. I had to let go of pride.
On October 12, 2017, I wrote these words..
I am not alone. Everything will be fine for me. People do love me. People can’t be my source. Only God can. Wrap your arms around me Jesus, and let me feel Your presence. Help me. Some days I feel like I just spend the days keeping myself alive. I don’t want to feel like that anymore. It’s not who I am. I have so much to live for. Help me, Jesus!
And I got quiet enough to let Him answer. And He did. I spent the next couple of hours digging into the Scripture, reminded of His love and grace through Psalm 59, Psalm 103, 2 Samuel 7:11, and Psalm 51. Though I didn’t feel the truth, I knew the truth was truth and I had to choose it. I had to choose the truth.
[ctt template=”3″ link=”Vpa6Z” via=”yes” ]Let’s remember the church isn’t a building – it’s the body of Christ. Go be the church today, my friend. It could be the difference between life and death for someone. [/ctt]
I drove back home with more hope than I’d left with. I still had so much healing left to do, but I knew I still had a reason to live. I knew I had to keep choosing the solid place over and over again.
I kept asking God to show me He was there. To show me He hadn’t left me. To speak to me. He answers our prayers, and if we get quiet enough to listen, we’ll see Him answering those prayers.
He answered that prayer while I sat at dinner with friends and laughed over ice cream.
He answered at lunch with a friend who prayed with me and encouraged me not to give up.
He reminded me of His love from a little girl who told me I was beautiful and Jesus loved me.
He reminded me as I watched my car being pulled out of the ditch.
He reminded me through books.
He reminded me through His Word.
And He did it all in one weekend, because that’s who He is.
Never underestimate what you’re pouring into other people. Paul and Chelsia thought they were just buying me dinner. No, they were saving my life and restoring hope. Jill thought we were just having coffee and lunch. No, she was saving my life and restoring hope. They were the church to me when I desperately needed the church.
Let’s remember the church isn’t a building – it’s the body of Christ. Go be the church today, my friend. It could be the difference between life and death for someone.
Thanks for letting me share.