I’m taking a break today from my “journey” posts to address
another issue…as I will do from time to time.
“God will never give you more than you can handle.”
You know where that’s found in the
Bible? Hezekiah 33:11. In other words . . . NOWHERE! It’s not in there! Just
read the book of Psalms. You’ll see that writer facing stuff all the time that
he absolutely cannot handle.
But how many times have you been in
the very depths of despair, absolutely covered up with piles of problems,
wondering how in the world you’re going to get through it all . . . when some
well-meaning brother or sister in the Lord comes along to promise you that God
will never do this to you…certainly
not more than you can handle. And that’s gonna make it all better.
Wrong.
In the first place, God doesn’t do
any of this to us anyway. Life does.
Or sometimes it’s a consequence of our own mistakes. But sometimes these things
just happen because we live here on Planet Earth where things are just messed
up. Cars hit other cars. Cancer abounds. Fire spreads quickly. Tornadoes drop
down at the . . . well, at the drop of a hat. Finances fall short. And
thousands and thousands of other tragedies slam into our lives and leave us
stumbling around wondering what in the world we will do.
Years ago, I landed myself in an
abusive marriage. The relationship went from bad to worse quickly and after a
year and a half, I knew I needed to leave or I would lose my mind. So I moved
into an apartment, paid the deposits from what little money I had for the rent,
utilities, and water, and bought a couple of pieces of furniture I needed. I
believed I would finally find peace.
The next Monday I went into work
and my “eccentric” boss fired me on the spot, lying profusely for his reasons
to do so. I had no choice in the moment but to take my personal items and
leave, returning to my new apartment and experiencing a total meltdown.
I knew I couldn’t go back into the
relationship I had finally escaped, and without a job I wouldn’t be able to
keep my apartment. I believed I had followed God into a separation, although I
had never thought I would be a
divorced woman. I looked back and knew that I had gotten into the marriage in my own will, not God’s, so I didn’t believe it
was his will for me to stay.
At that point, it was simply a
matter of examining my options and putting my life in God’s hands. This was so much more than I could handle.
So I picked up the phone and called my parents . . . my Godly, gracious
parents. “Come home,” were their first words. (I’m weeping now, just
remembering the love that overwhelmed me in those two words.)
I called my husband and told him I
was going to have to leave and needed a divorce. He and I went downtown the
next day and had a friend draw up a simple divorce. Then he and I loaded up a
U-Haul truck with everything I owned, put my car on a trailer, and I left. He
was the last person I saw in that town that day.
When I arrived in Nashville, I was
welcomed with open arms by my loving parents who helped me put everything in
storage while I stayed with them, paid off huge debts, and rebuilt my life enough
to start back out on my own. All through the empowerment of Jesus Christ and
the Holy Spirit.
I often imagine my life as a glove
and the Holy Spirit as the hand that slips inside and makes the glove come to
life. Without the Spirit, I am nothing but a limp rag, worthless and immobile.
But with his empowerment and enabling, I am able to accomplish whatever I am
called to do.
Life happens. God handles.
