Cheri Fuller: Ashley's arms and legs trembled uncontrollably. Her thinking became more torturous, reaching into her mind to pull out all the bad memories and pain.
I've failed. I'm a burden. I've disappointed my family. I'm going crazy, and there's no hope. Her stomach churned with nausea, and she was so dizzy she couldn't even think of getting up. (Google image, Dangerous Prayer)
Her body shook all throughout the night with the effects of pills and booze and sadness over what she'd become. She had despaired of life and considered ending the awful struggle that her existence had become, but something kept her sitting on that bed during those hours.
All she could utter was, "Help. Please."
Ashley's plea for God's help—in whatever form possible—came at a moment when she didn't even know if her Creator cared, when she thought that help might be an impossibility.
She was risking everything, for if He was silent, she didn't know how she could go on.
Her internal world had been invaded by ill-fated biochemistry: within a few years, severe postpartum depression turned to chronic depression and eventually a desperation so consuming, so dark and relentless, that it filled her with a desire to end it all.
It felt as if the heartache would never go away. The world seemed cold and mean with silence and didn't care to wrap its arms around her. It only enveloped her with its darkness.
This emotional descent was mirrored by her external world crumbling around her due in part to a progressive addiction to pain pills. What had started as trying to self-medicate just to appear more normal to her family and friends turned into something that was destroying her. Drinking made her more conversational but also brought a bigger nightmare.
At the moment she made her plea, Ashley thought herself beyond help, beyond the love of her Creator, beyond any hope of being the mother, daughter, wife, and friend she thought she was supposed to be. It seemed as if she were on a precipice, holding on to a thin ledge of shale, losing her grip on everything at once and about to careen down the steep cliff.
With her brain impaired by out-of-wack neurochemistry, Ashley had thought her only out was to leave her home and family and let her addiction take her as far as they would or end her life completely.
The morning came. Her body still shook and the nausea was unbearable. Yet Ashley grabbed for her phone, almost without knowing what she was doing, and called a friend. The was the first of a series of unexpected "answers" to her simple, desperate prayer, "Help. Please."
Something inside her wanted to live, was fighting to live, even more than she wanted to maintain her image, her reputation, her banal attempts to achieve perfection.
Her friend came immediately over to her house and sat with her, holding her shaking body. Without words or judgment or shock, she listened while the dam broke and Ashley came clean with everything she'd been holding in, hiding, and self-medicating to deny.
Help came in the form of the unconditional acceptance of a friend's presence—in the form of complete and total honesty. No more hiding. With this new transparency, the first cell of relief was released into her bloodstream, and hope seemed like a minute but real possibility.
As her friend sat and spoke a few words of comfort, Ashley's brain fog still overwhelmed most of her senses. Her friend made a few calls, one to a family member to explain the dire need for help that Ashley couldn't herself explain or ask for yet. Another call was to a treatment facility. She asked Ashley if she'd be willing to consider going.
Up to this point Ashley would have thought treatment or rehab an impossibility for "someone like her." She'd never need to go to a place like that. So her answer was accompanied by tears and brought a few more cells of relief to her blood stream. A fragile hope began to emerge.
"Yes. Please. I cannot do this on my own anymore." Help came in the form of a strange, sterile, hospital-like building and the people who inhabited it with her for ninety days.
What mattered was finding hope. What mattered was realizing the prayer she prayed with barely a mustard seed of faith landed in the hands of God.What mattered was taking the most courageous step of faith she'd taken up to that point.
This was the great paradox that guided her back into the land of the living, back to her Creator, her family. When you're weak, He is strong. He uses the foolish things to shame the wise.
God responded to her simple plea. He helped her. Through the most unexpected place and people: a treatment facility with fellow addicts and alcoholics who shared their experiences.
In a place she never would have imagined being, she discovered it was just the kind of place where the God she grew up hearing Bible stories about hangs out: a place where those who are desperate seek help, a place where God's grace creates hope and positive expectations, a place inhabited by people—even her—whom He loves unconditionally.
Ashley met Jesus in the understanding eyes of the chaplain, who accepted her and assured her of God's love when she was struggling with guilt-laden thoughts, and in the wisdom of her counselor who helped her see things she'd never realized about herself and her addictions.
She heard Jesus giving her and others strength and hope in the nightly meetings as the residents shared around the circle. And He met her every morning when the sun came shining through her tiny room, giving her hope and help for another day.
That is the mystery that keeps bringing her to her knees every morning and every night, despite what happens in the in-between time in the midst of her fluctuating brain chemistry or cravings or blessings or mistakes. She still utters that prayer, "Help. Please."
And she learned the addendum prayer that has become an anthem of her life: "Thank You. So much. Thank You."
( A shortened version of chapter 11 of DANGEROUS PRAYER, by Cheri Fuller Shiloh Run Press
(Used by permission of author)
Let's pray-
Father, when people despair of life and consider ending their awful struggle that their existence has become, may something keep them hoping for Your help, to come in whatever form possible.
May something within them want to live, fight to live, even more than they want to maintain their image, reputation and attempts to achieve perfection.
May there be friends who'll come to them to sit with them, willing to hold their shaking bodies, and without words or judgments or shock, listen as their dams brake, and they come clean with everything they'd been holding in, hiding, and self-medicating to deny.
An offer of help may come in the form of a strange, sterile, hospital-like building where they'd find hope. What matters most is that when they asked for help, their mustard seed of faith landed in the Your capable hands.
Help may come from the unconditional acceptance of a friend's presence, and in the form of complete and total honesty. With this new transparency can come hope as being a real possibility.
You respond to simple pleas, Father, to help those who need people to come alongside them and take them to a treatment facility, if needed, and while there to learn from others who've come through similar experiences. They'll learn that Your love can come through the wisdom of a counselor or Chaplin.
Learning that Jesus gives strength and hope, folks can meet each new day with hope for a brighter future; one free of crippling additions that only bring darkness and dread of life.
Open our eyes to the needs of such people, Father. Show us ways to be of help, whether through financial assistance to places like TeenChallenge operations that we know of, or by encouraging those who need to inquire about the help found there.
In Christ's name we pray for these people who are in great need of help. We know that You'll hear their pleas for help, and make a way for them to find hope in You, and a new lease on life through such places as TeenChallenge operations, found in New England and New Jersey. Amen.
May something within them want to live, fight to live, even more than they want to maintain their image, reputation and attempts to achieve perfection.
May there be friends who'll come to them to sit with them, willing to hold their shaking bodies, and without words or judgments or shock, listen as their dams brake, and they come clean with everything they'd been holding in, hiding, and self-medicating to deny.
An offer of help may come in the form of a strange, sterile, hospital-like building where they'd find hope. What matters most is that when they asked for help, their mustard seed of faith landed in the Your capable hands.
Help may come from the unconditional acceptance of a friend's presence, and in the form of complete and total honesty. With this new transparency can come hope as being a real possibility.
You respond to simple pleas, Father, to help those who need people to come alongside them and take them to a treatment facility, if needed, and while there to learn from others who've come through similar experiences. They'll learn that Your love can come through the wisdom of a counselor or Chaplin.
Learning that Jesus gives strength and hope, folks can meet each new day with hope for a brighter future; one free of crippling additions that only bring darkness and dread of life.
Open our eyes to the needs of such people, Father. Show us ways to be of help, whether through financial assistance to places like TeenChallenge operations that we know of, or by encouraging those who need to inquire about the help found there.
In Christ's name we pray for these people who are in great need of help. We know that You'll hear their pleas for help, and make a way for them to find hope in You, and a new lease on life through such places as TeenChallenge operations, found in New England and New Jersey. Amen.
Did you know?
~ Processing anything without God proves to be pointless.
~ If you take whatever is troubling you, whatever you need to analyze, filter it through God’s truth, you'll find relief.
21 - 25 of 100 one-line Scriptures for us to learn-
21. Is. 41:13 "For I, the LORD your God, will hold your right hand, saying to you, 'Fear not, I will help you.' "
22. Ps. 50:15 "Call upon Me in the day of trouble; I will deliver you, and you shall glorify Me."
23. Ps. 16:8 "I have set the LORD always before me; because He is at my right hand I shall not be moved."
24. Ps. 73:28 "But it is good for me to draw near to God; I have put my trust in the Lord God, that I may declare all Your works."
25. Is. 26:3 "You will keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on You, because he trusts in You."
(I'm finding that if I often say, "Thank You, Jesus; Thank You Father; Praise You, Lord;" and other praise words, my mind stays on God throughout the day!)
Today's guest post-
A Meditation on the Meaning of Faith
Jane Ault-
"Compared to some of my past life experiences, I am not currently going through a tough time. Just the normal frustrations of aging. My poem, today, is a reflection of more difficult days . . . "
Upcoming posts-
#47 The Intercession of the Secret Place
18th- Tuesday's post by Samuel Chadwick#48 Praying for Divine Healing
20th- Thursday's post by Samuel Chadwick
Fathers
22nd- Saturday's post by Lee Forbes
#49 Witness of Divine Healing
25th- Tuesday's post by Samuel Chadwick
 |
| Brothers walking off to explore the great outdoors |
Thanks for this great post, Jean. What a joy to hear about someone in addiction finding freedom in Jesus. Also, I love your comment: "Processing anything without God to be proves pointless." I needed that reminder, today.
ReplyDeleteThank, too, for sharing my post on faith.
ReplyDelete