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At the End of Yourself

Photo by Austin Mabe on Unsplash
Photo by Austin Mabe on Unsplash

I host a podcast called, The Craven Effect, and on an episode called, “The Waiting Place”, I interviewed a great friend of mine. Pastor Dave and I talked about the different moments in life where we are going through a process and where we are in a place of waiting.

That’s not what I want to talk about here. There are some great points about this type of process in life and you can listen to the full podcast HERE

But what I want to talk about is something we mentioned on the episode but didn’t devote too much time to.

Dave said that when we come to the end of ourselves, that’s when we meet the beginning of God.

So many of my friends are going through serious and bone-crushing experiences right now. Honestly, my heart really does break for them and I wish I could somehow lift some of the pain from them. But I’m going through it too. I don’t know what’s in the air but everything kind of sucks right now. For pretty much everyone.

So, what I’m writing is to them and to me.

These cold winds will eventually warm. The dark skies will eventually clear into blue. Your raw and red eyes will soon find new tears falling from them, but they’ll be seasoned with joy and not bitter sadness.

There is a brighter day ahead. There is something better for all of us. We won’t walk through this mess forever. We have each other. Thank God we have each other.

If what Dave said is true, then this is where God steps in. And from the past experiences that I’ve had in my own life where I have been at the end of myself, He has stepped in.

Oh, you didn’t think you only come to the end of yourself once in life did you? I wish I could get across in text just how loud I’m laughing at that thought. LOL just doesn’t capture it.

In my book, Choice and Triumph, I have a chapter called, “2010”. In the chapter I talk about the absolutely terrible year that 2010 was—ya know, little things: finding out my dad wasn’t my real dad, the girl I wanted to marry broke it off with me, I was asked to leave the band that I had started at CHURCH!, I failed classes and was put on academic probation… It was a pretty spectacular year.

One day I found myself in the shower basically screaming at God, pissed off at him, and asking over and over, “What do you think I’m made of…. Really, you must not know what I’m made of… I MEAN COME ON!!!!”

I was pissed. I was broken. I was very much at the end of myself.

I did the last thing I wanted to do in that moment that I fully believed God not only didn’t care about what I was going through, but, if he even existed, was in fact doing it to me. If he was doing this to me, he clearly didn’t know what I could handle or what I was made of.

I RELUCTANTLY opened to Psalms and read, “For He knows what we are made of, remembering we are dust.”

Well, damn. He was there and did know. And cared enough to tell me.

I don’t think the text has changed since 2010. He still knows I’m dust. You too.


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