Lieutenant Dan!!!!!!!

 

Running my own company has been the most difficult thing I have ever tried to do. I hide most of my heartache about it, except from my 200 closest friends. I am definitely one of those where for the most part, according to Facebook, I have the picture-perfect life. But behind the scenes, I am often crumbling.

When I broke off from my brother’s company in 2016, I felt like Alice falling down the eternal rabbit hole. I was scared out of my mind. And when I am scared, I often turn to the wrong things – and it ain’t Jesus. My blood pressure skyrocketed. I ended up in my doctor’s office, curled in a little ball in the corner; she turned off the lights and just let me try to find myself while she went and saw other patients. This was when I was first prescribed medication for anxiety. My, how those sweet little, tiny pills have saved my life.

Over the next 4 years, I saw 3 AM more often than not. In 2017, my CPA made a $500k error that I struggled to recover from. I am actually still recovering from it. At one point I consulted with a bankruptcy attorney but chose not to declare. Cash flow has kicked my ass. There are weeks when I do not know how we will survive, but we always seem to, somehow. Recently I discovered one of my employees was embezzling from me throughout this entire time. And another pursued me to try to bankrupt me on purpose. The sense of betrayal has been a force to be reckoned with.

There have been so many times where I have considered giving up, but when I consider what else I could do, I cannot think of anything else I want to do. I love what I do. And I am good at it – except the cash flow part. I have prayed so many times over the past few years to God to let me know if this is not what I am supposed to be doing with my life. I continually get the unspoken affirmation that I am doing exactly what I am supposed to be doing. “But God, why are you making it so hard?” It seems I can never catch a break, and I am just so tired of struggling. I have struggled to see God’s purpose. I feel like I have a target on my back. Is it a punishment? All around me, I see people succeeding, while I am failing.

In this journey I have learned some recovery speak, as my pastor calls it. I am sure most people have heard, “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference.” Another is, “Let go and let God.” I have tried so, so hard to turn my burdens over to him. In my mind, I visualize physically giving them to him, along with my anxiety. Yet it does not work - the next 3 AM comes along, and there I am again, brain spinning. Yet every day brings new blessings and mercies, and every day I survive that day.

I worry my expressing this will make me look weak. Maybe I am weak. I constantly ask myself what is wrong with me. I am smart, educated, capable, kind, generous – but life just keeps kicking my ass, over and over and over again. There has to be purpose in it, surely. So I search myself – what is the lesson I am supposed to learn in this? What am I not grasping? What am I supposed to be doing?

There have been times I have been angry with God, but then that faded away. Obviously, I have something to learn. I trust Him in that, even though I do not understand what it is or why it has to be this way. I can see my blessings and have gratitude – a beautiful daughter, a house, pets, a sense of humor, an amazing support system filled with tons of friends. I can see all that and I can appreciate it.

I realized yesterday that I have mostly stopped waking up at 3 am. I guess some might say I have become resigned to my fate. That’s true – somehow, I have accepted it. The world might take that as a negative, a loss of hope perhaps, but it is not that. It is actually a well seated knowledge that no matter what happens, I will be okay. I am taken care of. I trust in God that whatever the path is, He is going to be there with me. “Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?” I do not know when it happened, but at some point I transferred a good amount of my anxiety burden over to him – maybe just in the action of trying to turn it over so many times, maybe each time I tried He took a small percentage of what I was handing Him. There is an eerie, exhausted peace in the wake. Sure, sometimes I take it back – but it is not every 3 AM anymore.

This morning’s sermon felt so spot on for me. Our pastor spoke about Peter, who bumbled everything. He was outspoken and arrogant, always putting his foot in his mouth. After Christ died, he chose to go back to fishing, because that was what he knew – it was his career – it was what he was good at. He was disillusioned with the fact he had spent the last three years of his life following someone who he thought was God, but who was now dead. As he casts his net, he catches nothing. I so know that feeling – the despair, the self-criticism, the shame. Then some dude shows up and tells him to cast his net on the other side of the boat, and they get more than they can handle. Peter realizes it’s Jesus and pulls a Forest Gump when he saw Lieutenant Dan on the boat dock.

Peter had denied Christ three times prior to his death. As Peter sits with Jesus on the shore over a fire, sharing a meal of fish (where did Jesus get those fish?), Jesus asked him exactly three times if Peter loves Him. Peter gets insulted because Jesus keeps asking. I know the story well, but I have never noticed it was three times to match the three denials. Peter was a hot mess, yet God built His church on him. Peter was ready to give up. Peter was dead wrong. Peter was weak.

It just fit. I am that. This is me.