After five crazy, full, and exciting years,
A week’s worth of tears, prayers, grief, conversations, eating whatever I could get my hands on, skin allergies, acne, and body pain,
And three tears-striken, emotional phone calls later,
I’ve decided to resign from serving in the ministry.

Perhaps what hurts me the most is the timing surrounding this.
Why now, Lord?
Why this way?
Why me?
Why?

Because, if I were to be really honest, I am so offended and disappointed and outraged by the facts surrounding my situation… but I am also held and comforted by the Truth.
That God is still good.
That God is still faithful.
That God is still my Way-maker.
That God still loves me and holds me during this time.
Even if there are days when I would rather just stay in bed, stop doing the remaining work I needed to do, and just grieve and cry.

Like how I found myself last Tuesday staring at the computer screen at 4:30 pm. Just thirty minutes before work ended.

If you really knew me, then you’d know that I could go on for hours on end until I had finished all my tasks for the day (I keep a list). But there I was, with a ton of stuff left to do, staring at the computer screen.

There was nothing I desired more in that moment than to sleep… and to think I had three Espresso shots and brewed coffee that day (I usually have only 1 cup/day). So I closed my laptop and walked to my bedroom. I took my phone with me, turned off the WiFi (I really just needed a clock), and took a nap.

I woke up two hours later, with so much clarity. The heartbreaking yet peaceful kind. Naturally, the tears came.

I knew what I had to do. I had to get up. I had to pray. I had to wrestle with my decision. I had to read my Bible. I had to make those phone calls. I had to talk to the people I trusted for advice. I had to ask for prayers. I had to fast.

But even then, before I could do any of that, I was already tired.

My body was in so much pain from all the crying and stress. I knew that it was only God who was going to get me through that week, when my body, willpower, and mind no longer wanted to cooperate.

There was peace. So much peace. Overwhelming peace.
But there was also grief, pain, heartbreak, and loss.

Tonight, I find myself staring at my computer screen, writing this more than a week after. Not much has changed.

My body is pained and exhausted. Most of my willpower goes to praying that I make it through another hard day. My mind’s a wild chase—sometimes I can catch my thoughts and it’s good enough to function, and other times, nothing. I have given up on relying on any of these to understand and process what I am going through.

I am still in tears. Saying all kinds of prayers I can think of. Grieving. Confiding in friends. Eating soup that I’m pretty much sick of. Recovering from my skin issues. Experiencing all sorts of body pain.

But the Spirit of God in me, however, is the opposite. He has never been more alive and real and reliable. Just when I need Him the most.

I am still so offended and disappointed and outraged by the facts surrounding my situation, but also held and comforted by the Truth.
That God is still good.
That God is still faithful.
That God is still my Way-maker.
That God still loves me and holds me during this time.

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