Cracking: Part III

If you didn't read Cracking: I and Cracking: II, this one won't mean as much...

Part III

Fear loves for everything to stay clamped shut, tight, clipped. It is limiting and loves the dark. But fear will disappear when the light comes through! I know it is true.

A few weeks ago we went to Sandra McCraken’s Seattle concert. I so wanted to be there. I wanted to listen to her beautiful, life-filled words, but I felt full of these fears that plague me. I felt terribly symptomatic. The kids were acting out for being dragged to the concert. That disappointed me, blind-sided me even, because (for some nutty reason) I thought they would be excited. Oh, the stress of it all was killing me. I wanted to bawl. All day long I had been on the verge of tears due to one uncomfortable stimulus or another- an unintentional, harsh comment, a trip to buy compression hose (an old woman’s need for this young Sick Mommy), particularly cruel behavior from the kids. But, DING DANG IT, I did not want to crack. I wasn’t sure how bad it would be if I let a few tears slide down my cheek. I wasn’t sure if my symptoms would turn into my very worst symptoms and ruin the whole night for me. I prayed through gritted teeth, “God, PLEASE just make this OK!!!” I dragged one of my kids to the back for a scolding. After I sent him back to his daddy, I just stayed in the back with my squirrely baby. I wrestled him and didn’t hear much of anything Sandra said.

After a moment, my mother-in-law, whom I hadn’t yet seen, came back to take the baby off my hands. Instead of rejoining my family, I found a chair in the dark, back corner of the sanctuary and locked myself down. I could see that maybe God was giving me a chance to hear, but I was still so afraid of breaking down. Slowly the words of the songs and the melodies began to seep in, and I softened. My new prayer went up, “God, I am here. I am scared of so many things, and I don’t want to crack, but I know you love me. I’m not alone. Just be with me, please, God.” My insides immediately, palpably unknotted. I was able to breathe out and in. Tears did stream down my cheeks, but it wasn’t big and ugly like I thought it might be. Every little tear was a much needed release, and I know God was indeed with me. He, of course, had been all along because I have Christ in me. I was sure I was at a breaking point, and God gave me the space and time to safely crack a bit.

I’m glad I had that experience. It was just a whetting of my appetite. There is a lot more crackage that needs to happen. Lord, have mercy!