Christianity, depression, Divorce, God, Grief, Jesus, Medicaid, Prayer, Religion and Spirituality, Soul Healing
I cried, this week, in the doctor’s office. Quite hard, actually. In the waiting room. In front of everybody. Got lost on the way there, ran out of gas and was twenty minutes late for my appointment. Desperately needed prescriptions filled, as they ran out a while ago, but I haven’t been able to get an appointment anywhere. (I lost most of my medical care when I lost my job.)
‘I’m sorry ma’am, but we will have to reschedule you for later in March. No one can see you today.” “Yes, I heard you.” Cried harder. Once the flood gates are open, it’s hard to stop. “Ma’am, nobody can see you.” “Yes, but I need help today.” “Would you like to reschedule?” No, thank you, I really just want to die. I did reschedule, made it out to the hallway, sat down on the stairs and cried harder.
“My presence shall go with thee, and I will give thee rest.” (Exodus 33:14)
I hate being on Medicaid, I hate being stuck in a system that probably sounds good on paper, but doesn’t work in reality. Hate being a single parent, and not having a husband to help with all of this. How in the world do people do this?
I went to church last night. It was packed; we’re having a conference, and I really wanted to go, as the speaker was someone who had prayed over me a long time ago; an amazing, prophetic prayer, when I was going through my divorce. The whole process of getting a seat in church is a humiliating experience for me. I miss the ushers at my old church; always helpful, always respectful, and kind. Thank God, a friend stepped in to the hallway, and took me to sit with her and her husband.
It would be nice, to have someone to go to church with (hide behind?) and have him deal with the ushers, and find a seat for me. To be protected, cared for, and loved. I am so grateful for my friend, and her husband, but I want my own husband.
The lobby was packed with people, visiting, laughing, talking. A lot of noise, lights and motion. It’s an assault on the senses, and I look for someone familiar to attach to; otherwise it’s an out-of-body experience, but there was no one, so I hid in the bookstore. And pretended I was having fun, with my coffee, all by myself. Because this is what divorced women in the church do.
On the way to the car, there was another couple who walked out with me (they never say hi to me, have never, in thirteen years; my daughter informed me once that the mother can’t stand me) but they were laughing, and walking together to their car, and I envied her. Because she had someone to sit with in church, and to go home and do family with. To do marriage with. And she has cute clothes.
We claimed a verse this week, one of the women and I did, for the prayer and coffee group that meets in my home.
“See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness, and streams in the desert.” Isaiah 43:19
Thank God. Because this has been a very long walk. And I’m tired.