“If you look for me wholeheartedly, you will find me. I will be found by you,” says the Lord… Jeremiah 29:13-14 NLT
This used to seem like a declaration to me. Almost like God was threatening that I WOULD find him. And I often did, without ever even trying, in ways I couldn’t even make up if I wanted to.
Standing in the Phoenix Sky Harbor International security line, a man looking eerily similar to a former Bad Boy rapper was pulled aside and randomly searched. My eyes were glued to him, unable to shake the feeling that he was who I thought he was. I felt convicted to ask but not wanting to bother a stranger in the airport; I tried to forget about it. Only I couldn’t.
When I finally mustered up enough courage to go and speak to him, I walked over to his terminal, excusing myself for the bother to ask if he was “Murda Ma$e,” who dominated the music scene in the late nineties. He began to laugh, and it was all I needed for confirmation. I remembered him most, not for the catchy songs but for the deep dimples that appeared to be drilled into his cheeks.
He stopped to ask me about myself as I was about to walk away. I explained that I was a college student who had just come from a week-long volunteer training opportunity in the Grand Canyon. He noted the church he had pastored in Arizona, and I quickly said that I was flying out to go back home. He looked at me, asking me, “how are you?” I replied I was great, especially after such a transformative trip.
But he continued to look at me as though I hadn’t understood the question. Shaking his head and pointing to his chest, he asked again, “no, how are you really? How’s your heart?” I peered at him, wanting to be freaked out that he could see through me, only I had been raised to believe that when God wanted His children, nothing would stand in His way. I just couldn’t understand why God wanted me enough to speak to me through a stranger.
At the time, I was the epitome of broken. Suffering from a deep wound when it was reopened, I began to bleed on everyone around me. Consumed by trauma and fear, I couldn’t even recognize myself. Any semblance of light I was emitting eventually became darkness. Though I don’t remember the exact details of the conversation, I do recall him speaking about the medications I was abusing at the time. The cocktail I was mixing could’ve ended my life at any moment, yet I was utterly oblivious.
I can’t help but wonder if my oblivion was the same oblivion my mom had the day she bought sought-after heroin that destroyed her heart valves. My family struggled with substance abuse generation after generation, but it wasn’t something we spoke of often. Though I had been placed in foster care and was nurtured differently, my nature had begun to take over in my mid-twenties, and I hadn’t even realized it. But since I wasn’t a drug addict, and I could chalk my behavior up to being a college student, I never considered myself an addict when alcohol was what I turned to.
Though I no longer drink, the addictive behavior remains. I’ve replaced one thing with another, seeking to fill that void with comfort. And it is precisely that same comfort that I so desperately seek that keeps me stuck. So this winter, while I’m not dragging myself out of bed, I do find it challenging to want to get out of bed some morning. This puts me in a state of anxiety as I begin to think of all the reasons I don’t want to get up. Topped with the fact that I’m just perpetually tired, it’s easy to think my way into a panic upon waking.
But, God. I was reminded of Philippians 4:13; I can do all this through Him who gives me strength. Emphasis on all. It wasn’t just the small things God wanted to give me strength in; it was everything. I won’t lie; this was a complex concept for me to grasp. Getting out of bed seemed so trivial, especially when you compare it to what is happening worldwide. But I had to switch perspectives and consider that it was what was happening in my world, and I needed help.
“God put something on the inside of you, but if you keep looking at everyone else it robs you of giving birth to what He put inside of you.”
Jerry Flowers, It’s The Consistency For Me | Dear 2020
The other morning after a rather difficult morning, I cried on my way to work, praying for the strength to make it through the morning. Contemplating how, literally ready to plan my day, I laughed at the thought of Jesus taking the wheel. But seriously, I thought. Really do take the wheel. As I worshipped, I noticed the sun and how it had found its way behind my car at some point in the drive. It was so bright I couldn’t see anything in the rearview or side mirrors. I couldn’t even see the lanes next to me. I was quite literally surrounded by the brilliance of the sun as the lyrics to “The Blessing (Elevation Worship)” rang in my head,
“May His presence go before you
And behind you, and beside you
All around you, and within you
He is with you.
In the morning, in the evening
In your coming, and your going
In your weeping, and rejoicing
He is for you.”
“I will be found by you,” says the Lord. Still a declaration, no longer a threat; instead, a promise. Should I choose to look for Him, He will be there. I found Him that morning in the warmth of the sun, in the compositions of my favorite songs, in the joy and laughter of my coworkers amid a trying time. In the morning, in the weeping and rejoicing, He is found. And honestly, when I look back at my life, as much as I wanted to believe and even may have felt He had left me, He never did. His favor has always been with me.
In my healing journey, I’ve turned to just about any and everything except God, and yet still, all He wants is for me to seek Him first. So what exactly does that look like? For me, on days when I’m exhibiting addictive behaviors, instead of reaching for my usual comforts, I reach for Jesus. There is so much power in the name. ❤️