The crisp morning air assaulted my senses as I stepped out onto the front porch, my refuge of escape from a painful reality, and the demands of three little children. The view of the Puget Sound was pleasant, though I hardly appreciated such things anymore. A cigarette would help me face the day and lift the dense fog from my head. I’d been living this way long enough to believe this would be my existence until life ended—which I hoped would be soon.

Magnificent fir trees encircled the yard, casting their shadow on the ground below. Above me I noticed a narrow slice of blue sky, barely visible through the tree tops;  I felt the presence of my Heavenly Father, as if He was saying, “you see only this much, but my view is as far and wide as the open sky.”.  Uncertain of it's meaning, the thought moved me as I considered how the veil of dense tree branches blocked out the bright rays from the sun. 

The idea that there was more than what I could see was oddly comforting, and served to stave off the intensity of my despair and hopelessness.

For a brief moment I allowed myself to remember the other me, the one before my fall; before my entire being careened out of control like a car driving 60mph, colliding with an unyielding brick wall. The memory of me as a content wife and mother, who enjoyed life and loved to care for her home and family, was nearly too much to bear. With all the strength I could muster, I pushed the image away, back into the file called regret that I stored in my mind, and went back inside.

Later that day my children and I ventured down to the beach a few blocks from my house. As the kids happily dug tunnels in the sand, I looked around and noticed the endless sky stretched out, wrapping itself over a fringe of land in every direction. With no tall fir trees to block the view, its broad grandeur left a strong impression on me. I thought back to the presence of Comfort I’d felt earlier that day, the one that seemed to say that my viewpoint was limited, yet He knew a larger picture.

It would take a long time for me to understand the gift of those moments, or even to embrace the fact that The Lord was reaching out to me. Yet I’ve never forgotten this illustration, nor stopped learning from it. The abuse that had been happening to me was only a small part of a larger story. The pastor, whom had been the catalyst for my personal devastation, had been involved in many other wrong doings. The big picture was astonishing and eventually changed the way that I saw everything, including my own failures.

As the truth unfolded though time, I would learn that I didn’t bear the burden of responsibility for what had been lost, as my pastor had allowed me to believe.

Take heart my friend, the Lord is good. He is faithful and truly present to help us at those times in life when we find ourselves completely alone, with no one to turn to.  It doesn’t take a church prayer chain or even an organized group plea for the Lord to hear our desperate cry.  If His great mercy and help were made obvious to me, rest assured, He’ll be there for you also.

Photo courtesy of Mike Sabo