Normal people don't pray for a crisis. Or wish for one on a shooting star. Or ask for one from that genie in a bottle. Most days, people do everything in their human power to avoid it.
But things haven't been normal lately ... not for a long time. I needed change. Something big. So I began to pray. It was all I had left. (It should have been what I started with.) I prayed for change - in belief, in habit, in taste, in heart. I literally prayed for ROCK BOTTOM.
Because when you hit rock bottom, and survive it, the only place to go is UP.
Finally met those rocks face-to-face last weekend. They appeared in places and circumstances and timing that I never would have imagined and especially would not have chosen. But none-the-less, rocks are what we received.
And I wasn't standing on the rocks. Hadn't even fallen on them. I was being crushed. Like someone had piled those rocks right on top of my chest. I was terrified. Sick. Screaming with heartache.
Thankfully God has placed people in our path to help us over the rocks ... right from the first moment. Compassion. Kindness. Empathy. Resources. And multitudes of prayers. The love and support has been overwhelming. It's not surprising. But it is so very comforting.
Miracles continue to take place. Hearts are warming. Bad habits are crumbling ... in record time, mind you. And a family is beginning to be restored.
The road is long. It will be expensive and embarassing and inconvenient. But this is so much better than the alternatives.
This is our rock bottom. And for now, I am strangely at peace here and slowly making my way to the top.