You’re making an Idol.
Reading: Jeremiah 1-8
There is a special kind of pain that hits when you’re pregnant and suddenly emotionally abandoned. Confusion and sadness collide as you comb through the last few months, searching for signs you may have missed that led to the moment the man you love looks you in the eyes and says, “I do not love you. I am sorry.”
The minutes afterward feel like those of a soldier caught in the middle of battle after a grenade has gone off. Everything begins to move in slow motion, surroundings become quiet and your heart starts beating a million miles a minute. Your spirit shatters and your heart drops to your stomach, the tears well up in your eyes as you absorb the blast of truth. At that exact moment, you feel your baby kick you deep inside your belly and you’re suddenly transported back to reality. There is a living, tiny human that is going to be affected by everything that happens from this point forward. The weight of that reality drapes you as you silently process what that means.
Becoming a single mom was not supposed to be part of the miracle being granted. How could God grant my hearts biggest desire through a man who was not capable of loving me, or even willing to try. I tried to plead my case with him from every angle possible; a spiritual perspective, biblical one, the emotionally draining one and ultimately a psychological one. At the end of every plea was the same result, a man who was not willing to step into an unknown circumstance granted by God, but instead stayed with his heels dug into the belief that somehow I had trapped him.
The resentment and anger he’s built for me has made me cry out to God out of pain for not being able to understand why He would allow this to happen. Many of my prayers were filled with asking for restoration and for him to believe me but along with each tear, was also profound gratitude. I thanked Jesus for being here with me and for granting me the greatest gift possible – motherhood – one that I was told would never happen but my God is greater than any medical diagnosis.
I was deep in the trenches of the Book of Job, naturally, as I felt like I was losing everything and needed to stay rooted in Jesus and extend praise over pain. Then a funny thing happened, after a couple days God redirected me to the book of Jeremiah with an old FB memory from 2012. A message from past me to future me on a day I needed it the most.
A simple text referencing Jeremiah 29:11-12 NIV
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord. “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.“
This verse brought me peace, a peace that came from deep within and surpassed all understanding and I knew it was God talking to me. A day later, scrolling on IG I came across the same verse and then again one weeks later. It stopped me in my tracks. I needed to pivot my morning read of Job to Jeremiah. A book I did not have any context on other than this one verse. As I was digesting the message that Jeremiah had for the people of Jerusalem, something began to emerge; a revelation about myself, my past and why things haven’t been working out the way I have hoped. I, without knowing it, had been making an idol out of man. In every relationship – from my marriage to boyfriends – including the one I had with the father of my daughter, the men had taken God’s place in my life. I stopped reading the bible, stopped really attending church and serving my community, and was involved in immoral acts of sexual perversion and drug abuse. Much like the people of Jerusalem, I turned my back on God and lived by my flesh and not my spirit. Even in moments of hardship and pain, I was never truly surrendering to God’s will, professing him with my mouth while my heart remained hardened.
This revelation shook me to my core.
Even now, as I was heavily pregnant and heartbroken I felt God speak to me and say “I am here with you, I love you and my plans for you are for good and better than you can imagine. Trust me.” I wept and felt a sense of release of tension and pressure that I did not realize I was carrying. For the rest of the day, I replayed the last twenty years of my life. I thought about every man who had come into my orbit, how I handled those relationship, and how I responded when hardship arrived. Turning to God was my go-to, but so were tarot cards and crystals to help move things along. I understand, now, that the occult and Jesus simply do not mix for me. I was reminded through prayer one night at my church’s annual worship night, that everyone has free will. Even God himself will not intervene. Not when Pharaoh wouldn’t let Moses’ people go, or when the people of Judah turned their backs on Him; God will not soften someone’s heart who has chosen they do not want to do something.
I began to understand that the tears shed through miscarriages, divorce, abuse, and insecurity were not wasted. They were seeds being planted so that, in time, I could finally bloom with Jesus.
I started praying differently realizing that maybe the prayer is not to fix it Jesus, but rather Fix me Lord. Search my heart and reveal what still needs to be surrendered. As I get ready to bring forth life into this world and begin my new journey of motherhood, I look at the father of my child with eyes of love and extend grace, the same way God has extended it to me all these years.
Sometimes God allows seasons of isolation because He wants our eyes fixed on Him. On the other side is a plan greater than anything we could have imagined.
If you want to make God laugh, tell Him the plans you have for your life.
Pecoché Creative 