victoriously freed

“Beth, it’s okay to be happy.”

These are the words that I told myself the other morning as I began my day.  It’s not like I haven’t known this before, it’s just easy to forget.  I have gotten used to people telling me that it is okay to be sad, it’s okay to not be okay.  But, people forget to say that it is also okay to be happy.  These words are so simple, but so powerful.

“It’s okay to be happy.”

Friday morning, I woke up happy.  I woke up ready to face the day, despite the fact that facing what the day might hold has not been the easiest for me lately.  As I began taking my vitamins, I started worrying about little details that might not go my way.  My mind quickly got overwhelmed with all of the “what-ifs” that I began thinking about.  My heart quickly began to race and my brain filled with thoughts that began ruining my so-far-so-good morning.

“It’s okay to be happy.”

It was in that moment that I realized what was happening.  Why was I not okay with being happy?  Why did my mind so easily wander from its happy state that had first been that morning?  The last several months have contained sorrow, worry, anxiety, depression, and emotions that I had never felt.  Through those months, I had forgotten what it was like to be okay.  I had forgotten what it was like to be happy.   I forgot that it was okay for me to be happy.

Something people had not told through my journey is that it is okay to be happy.  However, I told myself those very words the morning that I looked at myself in my mirror.  I forced myself to smile and for the first time in a long time, I felt something different. 

“It’s okay to be happy.”

Every morning that I wake up, I remind myself that it is okay for me to be happy.  In fact, I am supposed to be happy.  When God sent His only Son to die, it was for much more than fire insurance.  Jesus wants us to give Him our burdens, our sorrows, our anxiety, our garbage.  He wants that from us!  When we try to carry it on our own, it’s almost like saying that we don’t need Him for that.  But, when He was nailed to a cross for our transgressions, He took with Him our pain and suffering.  Our sorrows, our depression was nailed to the cross with Him. 

I am His daughter.  I have His love and mercy.  If I am not accepting His strength and help through the dark days, then I am not getting everything out of my salvation that He offers to me. 

If someone is willing to offer me $100.00, wouldn’t I be crazy to only accept $10.00 of it?  Sure, I might decide to hold on to the rest of the money, but why would I not immediately say thank you and graciously accept this free gift in its entirety? 

On a much larger and more important scale, why in the world would I not accept the gifts that come with being a child of The King.  He offers everything that we need to make it through every single trial we face.  Every dark day, He is there to help.  Every burden we hold, He is there to help.  He is always there to help. 

“It’s okay to be happy.”

I am tired.  I am tired of carrying this on my own and trying to act like I have everything under control.  I don’t and I can’t.  I’m tired of not accepting the help that my Savior so lovingly offers to me.  Jesus has revealed so much to me and I know there is so much more to learn. 

Though the journey through troubled times are not always pleasant and there are days that it seems easier to stay in bed, He has never left me.  Nor will He ever.  I could never begin to understand the vastness of His love and mercy, but I know I don’t have to understand.  I will continue to remain in awe.

Though I hope all days are easy and full of laughter, the hard days will be worth it.  Someday, looking back on this journey, I will thank Him for this time.  I know it, I believe it.  I thank Him now for carrying me through every step.  Even on the days when I was too tired to hold on, He held me in His arms.  I will never be able to understand why He loves me so much.  Oh, but I am so very thankful He does. 

My Savior is wonderful.  My Savior is love.  My Savior holds me, He carries me, He helps me.  He loves me.

The lies of the Enemy are strong and powerful.  But praise the Lord they are not as powerful as my Savior is!  

With the help that can only come from my glorious Savior, I am slowly feeling myself coming back to life.  I feel revived and renewed.  I find myself smiling again, something that I rarely did during the last few months.  I have NOT made it this far on my own.  Only through my Savior can I say that I am victorious.  I am done letting Satan win.  I am done letting him have control of my mind and my day.  I am done believing his lies.  I know he is strategizing against me, but I have a grand surprise for him.  I am finally ready to fight back.  I will not lose this battle, because with my Savior as my guide, I—through Jesus’ name—will be victorious against the ways of the enemy.  I might grow tired, but Jesus will forever be there to fight with me and fight for me. 

We are all in a war against the enemy, the father of lies.  I guess he forgot that he already lost once, and he will continue to lose, and one day, the entire world will know that OUR GOD IS VICTORIOUS.  And oh, what a glorious day that will be.

Through the war, the trials, and tribulations, keep fighting.  Always remember that because of the blood that was shed for us, IT'S OKAY TO BE HAPPY.

Let me tell you a story.

A story that began over two years ago.

During my senior year, I was blessed to be able to play volleyball, as a home schooler, at Coffee County Central High School.

While playing in a tournament one day, I was injured.  What started out as minor abdominal pain increased to a level of pain that kept me out of the game for a week.  However, if it would have been up to me, I would not have set out at all.

Despite the intense pain, and the advice that I received, I decided to continue playing for the remainder of the season.  (Which I still believe was the right choice for me.)

Although I still do not regret continuing to play with this unknown injury and pain, I was not aware then of the impact that it would have on my life.

As the season came to an end, I anticipated that the pain would also end.  However, I was wrong.

About 6 months after the initial injury transpired, I began seeing doctors to find out what I could do to keep from hurting all the time.

After seeking assistance from a local doctor, I started having tests and scans done to see if the cause of the hurt could be found.  When nothing was found on my 3 X-Rays, 1 ultrasound, and my first MRI, I began my first round of physical therapy to see if this could cause relief.  I was hoping that it would help ease the pain, but only found that the more I worked in therapy, the higher the pain level I would feel.

After a few months of looking for an answer locally, I began seeing a doctor in Nashville who is known for his work with injured athletes.  The initial tests were coming up with the same results as before: confusion and empty.

Once again, I had to have a new MRI after a medication prescription failed to produce the results needed.  This time, the test showed that I did in fact have two sports hernias around my abdominal wall. Also, once again, I began a second round of physical therapy after being able to isolate the location of the injury more specifically.  This seemed to help some, but ended in the same way the first round did: the more I worked in therapy, the more pain I began to feel.  So, I stopped going.

At this point, I was frustrated.  Not with anyone or anything, I just wanted an answer and a solution.  So far in this story, neither of those two needs had been available to me.

I took a break from doctors for a while to see, yet again, if the pain would go away on its own.  I would go for a time with no sports, gym, heavy lifting, or anything remotely similar.  Then, when that would not work, I would try doing minor exercises to try to build strength within the torn abdominals.

No matter what I tried, the pain never went away completely.

After more than two years of dealing with this shooting and stabbing pain in my abdominals, my mom and I traveled to St. Louis, Missouri, to visit a new doctor hoping for new answers. 

This whole time I had my mind set on one solution:  Surgery.

I knew all along that God’s plan was the best and what I had been praying for all along, but I have always liked to try to figure things out in my mind, too.  And at that point, I thought that surgery would be the only answer and solution for the pain that I was still feeling.

Sitting and talking to a third doctor brought up the same questions and confusions.  The only difference is that this doctor gave me a solution that he felt would provide some relief to the pain that I had been living with for over two years.

Still though, I was saddened at the thought that this might be yet another failed attempt to get rid of the pain.  I knew there was pain, I knew that it was affecting me and my life, but it still seemed that there would be no simple solution since there were still question as to what was causing the pain.

But, since the doctor said he might have a solution, I tried it.

 Guess what.

The solution was NOT surgery.  I guess I didn’t have it all figured out.

The solution he gave was 5 steroid injections into the region of my abdomen that had been causing me so much intense pain for over 2 years.

I left that doctor content, anxious, sore, and with instructions to call back with a progress report in a month.

Today, I called back.

I shared the progress that I have made.  I shared that for the first time in 2 years, I was able to vacuum with no pain.  I shared that I have begun going to the gym and running again without major pain in over 2 years.  I shared that while I still feel very minor pain, I feel more relief than I have in over 2 years.

I was told that there would be no need for me to call back unless the pain were to come back strong again, but they felt like this much progress was a very good sign.

Now, just like with most stories, this has a greater meaning to it.

I am sharing this because of one simple reason:

MY GOD IS AMAZING.

Never once did I doubt His timing or His ability to heal.  But, there were so many times that I didn’t know how long it would take.

I know in the grand scheme of things, stabbing abdominal pain may not seem like much, but it truly altered, and somewhat controlled, part of my life.

I want this story to mean something to people though.

I don’t know who might be hurting, physically or mentally.  I don’t know how long you have been struggling.  But, I want you to know that you can and will be healed.

The healing might not come when or how you want it to.

But, I can promise you that He will provide for your every need, every hurt, and every pain.

Do not ever doubt His Almighty Power.

He is so beyond capable of things we cannot even begin to imagine.

Never once should we doubt or question the Lord, or His timing.

Today, I claim-in the amazing name of Jesus-that I am HEALED.

And today, I want you to claim His healing, too. 

“Who is Jesus to you?”

Recently I heard a preacher say that this is one of the questions he uses when he begins to share the gospel with people.  This stood out to me so much that I almost immediately went to the wonderful world of social media to find out from my friends who He is to them.  The responses that I received, I loved.

Though each response varied, they all made one thing very, very clear: He is EVERYTHING.

In some responses, Jesus is their Redeemer and in others He is their Friend.

There were so many wonderful words that described just some of the many “who”s that Jesus is.

The responses were able to vary because, unlike me and you, Jesus is not confined to just a few titles.

I’ve shared the question, but what I have not shared yet is who Jesus is to me:

When I was formed in my mother’s womb, He became my Creator.

When I said a prayer that changed my life forever, He became my Savior.

When I feel lonely, He is my Best Friend.

When I am afraid, He is my Protector.

When my family and I go through difficult days, He is my Strength.

When life gets confusing, He is my Answer.

When I hear that a doctor is unsure of something, I KNOW He is my Healer.

When I am lost, He is my Light.

When I am sad and burdened, He is my Smile.

When I sin, He is my Giver of Grace.

When I pray, He is my Listener.

When I am weary, He is my Hand to Hold.

When I am hurting, He is the Arms around Me.

When I feel stressed, He is my Hope.

Even from before I was born, He was and is my Father.

Even though He is the King, He is also my Daddy.

He is all these things and so much more.

He is my Redeemer, my Friend, my Love, my Guide, my Breathe, my Life, my Happiness, my Forgiver, my Everything.

Without Him, I am NOTHING.  

There is nothing that I can do on my own.  I am a sinner, unworthy of everything good.  But, He loves me anyway.

Jesus loves me enough to call me His daughter and His friend.  He loves me enough to be mocked and spit on and to die on a cross because I am a sinner in need of a Savior.  He loves me enough to be raised from the dead on the third day.  He loves me enough to leave behind an empty tomb on this earth to watch over me while seated by the right hand of God.  Jesus even loves me enough to save my sinful soul so that I may spend an eternity celebrating and worshiping in Heaven with Him.

Without Him, I am nothing and I deserve nothing.

But with Him, I am a daughter of the King.

“Beth, who is Jesus to you?”

My Jesus…He is my everything.