My friend, author Dolly Dickinson, wrote this wonderful article on dealing with crisis. When you're looking for fresh strength, it helps to hear the testimony of others who are living in victory. You may find more information about Dolly here.
My older daughter, Sheila, had
just gotten married, and I knew it was time to look for a smaller, cheaper
apartment for me and my teenage daughter (Rhonda) who lived with me half time
after my divorce.
Then on April 28 came the phone
call from my sister, Rita. That momentous conversation set in motion seven
months of intense change, which I look back on as a mind-boggling milestone in
my Christian experience. I learned just how creatively God could answer
prayers.
On the phone, I listened as my
sister poured out her woes about various stresses in her life. Then she added,
“I always feel better when I talk to you. You’re such a good listener. I sure
wish you were here to talk to for extended periods, not just phone calls from
3000 miles away. Why don’t you come and spend the summer with me?”
“Let me think about it, pray about
it.”
I hung up. “Yeah, right. It would never
work.” And yet, I felt drawn to consider her outrageous offer.
So I prayed, “God, this is crazy.
I have a job and very little money, you know.” (Does God smile when my silly
prayers are always informing Him of the obvious?)
That night I couldn’t sleep as I
went over the impossibility of such a trip. I got up in the night and wandered
around my apartment, noticing all the stuff I would have to figure out what to
do with for three months. How did I accumulate so much?!? And there was Rhonda.
How could I pull her away from the familiar? Not that she was so very happy at
her awkward age.
The Spirit, however, can be quite
a nag and kept pressuring me the next day, the 29th. As I got ready for work, I
noticed some things I could do without, sell, or give away. I realized I was
not overly attached to my Goodwill décor and needed to downsize anyway to fit
in a smaller place.
But how could such an enormous
change ever work? I still had a job, and I didn’t dare walk away from that. Two
years earlier God had nudged me to leave my freelance writing and sign up to be
a counselor in a residential facility for juvenile delinquents. Now that was a
major change, but it was an amazing occupation—getting paid to minister to the
hurting.
I went to work tired the next
morning and sat dazed in our weekly staff meeting. My mind was awhirl with
Rita’s request, so I had trouble paying attention. When we got to the topic of
scheduling for the week, there was a break in the conversation. I said
casually, “You’ll never believe it. My sister wants me to come to Maine for the
summer.”
One of the part-time workers
smiled. “Hey, that would be great for me. I’ll be done with classes by then and
could take your full-time job. You could have it back in September when return
to grad school.”
I looked at my boss who shrugged,
“Sure, I don’t see why not.”
I gulped. “I’ll get back to you.
There are a hundred other details to work out. I don’t know if I can pull this
off.”
I left the meeting stunned. “God,
what is this about? Could this really happen? I can’t imagine how, but I guess
if that’s what You have in mind, I’ll just proceed step-by-step until I hit a
roadblock.”
I asked my ex-husband, “How would
you feel if I took Rhonda to Maine for the summer and then you had her with you
until after Thanksgiving?”
“I guess that would work.”
Then, like Gideon and his blasted
fleece, I was emboldened. “And pay half her plane ticket?”
“OK.”
Just like that, God leveled two
insurmountables. Then came April 30 when I would have to give notice. I looked
around my full apartment and felt overwhelmed at the thought of downsizing and
packing in only 30 days. Was this of God or was I a little crazy? It seemed to
be both.
During the chaotic month of May, I
learned the truth of Philippians 4:6-7—“Do not be anxious about anything, but
in everything by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests
to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard
your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”
Anxiety was a daily, even hourly,
threat. Every time it swept over me, I reminded myself of those verses. I told
God I needed help and then I looked around for all the things I could be
thankful for. Then it was the strangest thing. I did experience the promised
peace, beyond my understanding. Thus, I discovered Philippians 4:6-7 to be a
most useful formula. The month of May was one of the most stressful of my
life—and one of the most peaceful!
I also discovered the liberation
that comes with letting go of stuff. I had set out quite a pile of it, ready
for last-minute pickup by the Salvation Army truck. Then on the final Friday in
May, the Spirit nudged me to have a yard sale.
“No, you know I hate the hassle of
a yard sale. And without advertising? NO!”
Reluctantly I made signs to put up
on a nearby busy street. To my surprise, my signs joined those of people who had
advertised in the paper and I made more money than I ever expected.
In June, I felt an additional
down-the-road anxiety. I prayed, “You know, God, in September I’ll be homeless.
Have you got that covered too?”
Well, yes. I ran into Kay, an old
friend I hadn’t seen in a while. It turned out her husband had been diagnosed
with a terminal brain illness and could only get worse. She would love to have
me stay with them for three months, “for moral support if nothing else.”
Mid-June Rhonda and I flew to
Maine where I found my sister in worse shape than I had imagined. There was so
much I didn’t know since we had only become close friends in our thirties. She
is six years older and many of her wounds happened before I was born or after I
had moved away. I was clearly in over my head, but I knew how to listen.
Once again, I needed prayer to get
me through. I leaned heavily on the Spirit and was grateful for all my
on-the-job training in counseling. My sister grew spiritually and emotionally,
and in the end, we had an intervention with someone who had hurt her deeply.
A side benefit no one could have
imagined was how much Rhonda grew in confidence. At the church youth group she
was assumed to be someone special since she was from exotic California, and in
time she began to grow into seeing herself as just as special. She was a new
gal when we flew back home.
September brought more listening
as Kay and I watched her husband deteriorate physically and mentally. I was
again grateful for my training, this time being able to remain calm in the face
of the occasional violence brought on by his disease. While I couldn’t solve
anything, I could offer encouragement and perspective in an impossible
situation. So for three months we prayed often and laughed when we could.
In the middle of this, I again
felt blips of anxiety about housing. Yet again, I prayed the obvious, “God, I
hope you realize I’m going to need a place by December so I can resume the
parenting arrangement.”
I’d barely begun to look at the
rental section of the paper when my daughter Sheila called, “Hey, the people in
the apartment across the hall are moving out November 30, and. . . .”
Thus ended an intense seven months
of praying my way through constant change. While it was often unsettling and
uncertain, it was also amazing to see God work wonders in my circumstances
while also using me in the service of others.
Now whenever I face new challenges
and changes, I look back on that time and know from experience that God can
sort out anything with surprising creativity.