I had another post prepared for today.  Shipped it off this morning to my talented and dedicated proof reader.  It’s ready and I’ll post it on another day.  Today however, the pretences stop.  Today I don’t just scratch the surface of how God is moving in my life.   Today I get down to the cobwebbed corners, the murky and filthy depths of a heart that aches.

The same murky depths that my faith often feels stuck in.  And dissatisfaction it is looming in me today.  It is rising and it is ugly and the lies that I am believing about myself, about how God moves and works amongst His people are loud.  Oppressive.

I have daddy issues.  I have since I was a little girl.  My father, somewhat unprepared for life alone with three small children,  didn’t know much else other than anger and sometimes violence in the raising of children.  I made mistakes, goodness knows I made some whoppers , and the consequences would often come in the form of a wooden spoon broken across my backside or broken blood vessels in my eyes.  And I am not telling you any of this in hopes of gaining sympathy, I’ve spent plenty of time in self pity quite well on my own – but I do feel the need to put the rest of what I am going to say in context.

Today has been a particularly dreadful day.  I don’t like my job.  I have been in the same role for 9 years and when that job came and fell in my lap – which it quite literally did – it was a miracle a blessing.  But I have been restless for over a year now.  Wanting more and more accurately wanting some time, just time to sort out the next step without feeling overwhelmed by misery  and second guessing.  This morning I woke up and called in sick, mostly because the thought of putting feet to floor, getting dressed and putting on my mask was more than I had the strength to muster.   

I spent most of the afternoon in tears.  I called my husband,  reached out to our Pastor, a friend on the phone and even sent out a Tweet in Twitterland, grasping desperately for some idea of what the next step might be.  And couldn’t I just walk away today and hole myself up in my room and write and lean into God a little longer?  Couldn’t I just quit my job.

And when my husband came home from work and started asking me questions about how I was feeling, my fangs they bit and they bit hard and the bark that followed was not worse than my bite.   I ranted and raved.  “How could I be so stupid?”  “Why didn’t I listen when you were asking me to be a better steward of our resources?” and “God has every right to unleash His Isaiah-fury on me, I have been a bad girl.”  I could see hurt in my husband’s eyes as this foul litany dripped bitter.  Hurt for the yelling and hurt for the damaging talk turned inward instead of outward to a waiting God.  And then when His silence became deafening I accused him of not listening, of not caring, of not understanding. 

I sit here and I am writing and tears are falling, my screen is blurred because in the last year God has shown me so much, so much about joy and grace.   I chose grace for my word this year and we are two weeks in and I have fallen on my own sword of self doubt.  My husband, he is a processor, he is a thinker and where oh where would I be without him?  His patience,  his quiet yet rock solid support and his unconditional love like homing beacons just waiting for me to slow down, settle down and return to the comfort of his love. 

And while I didn’t have the most wonderful daddy/daughter relationship with my father, we are now, after many years dancing  the “Butterfly Kisses” dance .  None of which would be possible without the sacrifice, the absolute forgiveness that my Saviour offered me on Golgotha.   But, I am sure, after reading this far you can well imagine that I often misplace My Heavenly Father’s love for me.

I misplace it in fear and in anger and I misplace it in my thinking that He is punishing me.  That when trials come, the misery I am feeling is a punishment for every sin committed, every error in judgement , every misstep in my faith.   

My husband bless his heart just asked “Don’t you think this, this restlessness, this crisis of faith is good?   Don’t you think that perhaps, this means that the harder you lean into Him, the more you bow your knee that His purpose will be revealed?”  His words they soothe, they soothe and they comfort as he reminds me that God is not in the business of taking us back to our past mistakes, God is not in the business of holding up our sins on flash cards and daring us to deny our part in the error.  

No!!  God is in the business of setting His people free.  And I read it there in Isaiah as I tried to find comfort in the midst of His word.  “Wake up, wake up, O Jerusalem!  You have drunk enough from the cup of the Lord’s fury.” (Isaiah 51:17 NLT).  And I see truth rapidly flying by on my Twitter Feed “The devil is a liar.  Jesus is the truth.” – Joyce Meyer

Wake up, wake up, O Tonya!  

And God He is waiting, I can feel Him waiting for me to bend my knee, open my palms and receive. 

He has promised – He has promised.


  1. Tonya, Have you ever read this book by Jerry Bridges? The Discipline of Grace. It really spoke to me about areas where I really struggled with being new. Engaging grace and allowing it to really transform me from striving, and feeling burdened by my past while still seeing God’s hand in those areas where I just needed to trust Him. I have lots of pain from my past and Isaiah’s promise of being new, redeemed, and free was the thing I clung to most when I first began to see God as a savior who loved me.
    Love you, friend. Hang in there.And give that husband a big hug, I have a really supportive one too. Patient men are a gift from the Lord.

    • A thank you from the bottom of my heart friend. A thank you and a big hug! I have not read The Discipline of Grace – but it’s on the list for the next Amazon purchase.

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