Burn the House Down
/I am currently in what has probably been the hardest season of my life.
Events transpired that I was sure I wasn’t going to recover from. I was in so much emotional pain that I couldn’t eat or get out of bed for days at a time. It felt like someone had burnt my house the ground.
I used that metaphor a lot, because it was the only way I could put what I was feeling into words. It felt like someone burnt my house to the ground.
And I guess God heard me say that.
On my way to church today, I saw an enormous cloud of smoke. Now, I don’t know much about fire, but what I do know is that dark grey means that whatever is burning is still currently burning, whereas white means that the fire has been extinguished - and this cloud was dark grey.
As I drove closer, I could see the source: a house seated on top of a hill that was completely engulfed in flames.
I didn’t see any emergency vehicles outside of the home, so I pulled out my phone and typed in 911. I was still on the interstate, but I knew what exit the house was closest to. My finger hovered over the dial button, but then I saw a sheriff drive by. I exhaled, thinking that he was on his way to help, but became nervous again when I noticed his lights weren’t on. Was I the only one seeing this fire? What if there are people inside? Should I call 911, or is it under control?
I thought about these questions all the way to church. With 911 still typed into my keypad, I parked and got out of my car. You could see the smoke from the parking lot, and other people were definitely noticing it. Surely one of these people called the fire department, right?
My mental debate was interrupted by one of the parking attendants telling me good morning. I smiled and said good morning back, but then I stopped.
“Hey there’s a house on fire over there, do you think I should call 911? Or do you think someone has already done it?”
The minute the words left my mouth I internally cringed. It felt like a silly question to ask the man who had helped me park, because - to my knowledge - he had the same amount of information I had.
“Oh, no need!” he replied. “My brother actually works for the fire department, that’s an intentional burn.”
I’m sorry…did he just say “intentional burn?”
“I was confused because the house looked so nice,” he continued. “It had a really pretty exterior. I guess it was more of an internal problem.”
Internal problem? Intentional burn?
These words echoed around in my mind on my walk into the building. Internal problem. Intentional burn.
Click.
Queue the tears.
I had been saying for months that it felt like someone had burnt my house to the ground. I was so broken down and angry with God, because it felt like all of the things that I cared about the most were taken away from me. I felt so empty and out of control.
I couldn’t see it a few months ago, but I realize now that the “house” I lived in was disgustingly unhealthy. Yes, I looked put together and pretty on the outside, but on the inside I was constantly anxious. I had become comfortable with being uncomfortable. The situation that I was in was completely hindering my growth, but because it was familiar, I wanted to stay in it - and I would have if God hadn’t stepped in.
If God hadn’t allowed fire to be set to my metaphorical house - my plans, my relationships, all of it - I would have settled for the mediocrity I was living in. I would have stayed right where I was, as the person I was. I had no idea how harmful my thinking patterns were and how little I valued myself. I had absolutely no idea that my mental state was as toxic as it was.
If I could see how unsound my house was at the beginning of all of this…I would have set fire to it myself.
I couldn’t see it though. Thank goodness that God did, and He cared enough to remove me from it.
If I’ve learned one thing through this incredibly difficult season, it’s that the presence of hardships does not negate the presence of God. God loves and cares about you enough to allow trials and difficult seasons into your life so that you can grow. Pain allows us to become more like Jesus.
I won’t lie, growing is painful. It hurts to grow. But the person that you become on the other side of the trial is a person worth meeting.
I mean it when I say I wouldn’t change a thing about these last few months. It has been incredibly difficult, but you know what? I don’t hate myself anymore. I’m surrounded by people who love me. Jesus has filled holes in my heart that I didn’t even know were there.
I’m still rebuilding my house, and some days are better than others - but at least now I have a firm foundation to build upon. In the midst of the storm, I have hope.
It’s crazy how Jesus works. It feels dichotomous - that even in the middle of incredible sorrow, he can give you joy. He can give you hope. He can restore you.
All you gotta do is ask Him.
I know that some of you may be going through a difficult season right now too. If you need prayer, click here.
You are so well loved and looked after.
Just because life sucks right now doesn’t mean that He has forgotten about you.
And hey - this season isn’t going to last forever. Joy is coming.
(If you don’t believe me, read Job).
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Songs to listen to in this season:
Come to Me (Spontaneous) - Bethel Music, Jenn Johnson, Brian Johnson
Head Above Water - Avril Lavigne
Raise a Hallelujah (Live) - Bethel Music, Jonathan David Helser
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