Alive.  I am so alive today!!  I almost collapsed yesterday.  Well, truthfully, I did collapse.  Something hit me like a ton of bricks, and I was halfway through my first Saturday morning Jazzercise class when I realized, "I might not make it today!"  I was dizzy, nauseated and weak.   I told the class manager to call Peggy, my class owner, and see if she could find a sub for my second class.  Thankfully, God provided a reprieve for me and miraculously, inexplicably, no one showed up for the 9:30 class.

   I gathered up my things, staggered to my car, drove home, dragged myself up the stairs and into the bathroom.  I took a hot bath, and then got into bed.  I literally felt like I was in the grave.  It was beyond exhaustion.  It was mental, emotional physical and very much spiritual.

   I don't know how long I had been lying there (hours?) when my friend Jennifer texted me that she had gotten my SOS message.  We were supposed to get together last night, but I had called her on the way home from my class to say I was extremely ill and we might have to change plans.  (I hate canceling... I was still holding onto hope that somehow I might just perk up after a nap.) Greg and the kids were away all day at a BattleBots competition in Waukesha (thanks be to God again for small miracles!) so I told her I might need her to come over and let Buddy out.  I literally could not get out of bed, or even lift my head.

    She asked for my garage door code, and before I knew it, she was there.  In my room, seeing me at my lowest.  She said, "Awww, you just need a Momma!"  She had brought all kinds of energy foods and drinks, and honestly, the sight of them repulsed me, but I thanked her anyways.

  And then, she began to war for me.

I don't remember a lot of what was said, I just remember her asking me to repent of anything I needed to repent of... and that's when the floodgates broke.  Rivers of JUNK I have been holding on to for far too long came bursting forth.  I cried and sobbed and drooled, face down in my bed, a sweaty, mangled mess.  I opened all the ugly little junk drawers of my heart and dumped them out. Life began to seep back into my bones.  I felt lighter... still weak, but hopeful.

We talked for a while, she made me eat string cheese and chug Gatorade.  We shared our hearts, and she shared wisdom and told stories and got my mind off ME.  We laughed.  She ordered me to stay in my bed the whole rest of the day, (which I did), and hugged me and left.

I drifted in and out of sleep the rest of the afternoon.  I was still physically depleted, but the oppression, depression and heaviness was gone.  As I was lying there, God gave me a little glimpse of some of what had lead up to this day and this "breakdown."

I will apologize in advance if this parable sounds just like the last one I wrote, about the car that needs to be restored.  Apparently this is the kind of message He's trying to send me again.  Maybe I didn't get it the first time.  Maybe I have to learn it in layers.  Maybe it's only for me, and you don't need to hear it, but maybe by sharing it I can teach it to you so you can hold me accountable.  Or maybe you're like me and you've been doing the same thing.

God showed me that He and I were in a house.  The house was a mess.  The house represented my life, and he showed me that everyone's life is a house, and they're all messy.  Some are bigger than others, some are messier than others.  We get invited into one anothers' "houses", and if you're doing relationship correctly, you get to see the mess that's there.  You might even get to help God clean it up a little bit.  You only get to clean a small area, literally the corner of a corner table, maybe.  The trick is to let God do the cleaning, and when it's your turn to do something, to do it wisely, within your limits and not in such a way that you actually increase the problem.

Then God zoomed in on me.  He showed me, over in the corner of the room he was cleaning.  And I, very quietly, so as not to be seen, picked up some trash, and put it in my pocket.  In truth, I had been filling my pockets with junk and trash and debris that needed to be thrown away.  Not kept in my pocket, not saved in a drawer.  He showed me what I was collecting, and it was nasty. He said, "Daughter, it's not cleaning if it just gets transferred to you and defiles you.  It needs to be exposed and evicted.  It needs to GO!  It's not yours to collect or hang on to.  Put it down, throw it out, get rid of it!"

The trash wasn't all mine.  It was little pieces of things from those I love and cherish, who are hurting, who have gone through (and are still going through) a lot.  Psalm 56:8 says that God has collected our tears in a bottle, and he has recorded them all in his book.  It's not our job to do that.  He's already done that.  How pointless to re-do a job someone better and more qualified than you has already done!!  What a waste of time and energy!  No wonder I was flat on my face and sick to the point of death!  I was carrying a burden that wasn't mine to carry, that wasn't even REAL, because it has already been finished by the work of the cross.

So I emptied my pockets.  I quit picking up stuff unless I'm going to deal with it properly.  I rest in the process of knowing that "He who began a good work in (you, me, all of us!) will bring it to completion" as Philippians 1:6 promises!  I thank God for good friends who aren't afraid of my messy house and who will let me into theirs.  I promise to clean with care.