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22

Guest Post: Erin Hobbie – Trust Me

First: This picture kills me.  Partly because she looks like she just turned seven years old, and partly because my face is indicative of events that would follow 4.28 minutes later. This was taken the first week at a place in Switzerland called L’abri. Erin talked me into sledding down the side of an alp and 4.19 minutes later I thought it would be a good idea to sled…STANDING UP.

4.28 minutes later I had broken my ankle.

Little did I know my photo face would be so prophetic.

Second: This picture has nothing to do with the post Erin wrote for me.

Third: I asked Erin to write this post based off of an email she sent to a close group of friends. If you couldn’t tell, she is an amazing writer. I am not.  When I read her heartfelt words which often mimic my own heart’s struggle so poetically, I knew I wanted a version for my site.  Enjoy her words of wisdom and honesty.

Trust Me

One recent morning  before I could open my eyes, I heard in the depths of my heart, “Trust me.” The words came unexpectedly, undeservedly,  like being handed a party favor far better than the present you brought for the birthday kid. “Trust me” rushed over the ache in my heart like a mountain stream, as soothing as a mother’s cold hand on a hot forehead.

Mornings usually begin slowly for me, these last couple of years, where I have been waking to a heaviness, pulling myself up by my bootstraps by sweet-talking into living this day, a day that’s been given to me although I know that at some point I will have to battle fear, anxiety, and loneliness. Some days, usually days where I anticipate spending them with people I love, are good days. I can picture the banana pancakes and cups of coffee that will stand on the table as we devour one another’s thoughts in real  conversations punctuated by laughter.

But most days I awake with a prayer, O God. Help.

I clearly remember the first morning I woke aware of the empty place beside me in bed, a space I longed for a husband to share. For the past six months I had felt certain who that husband would be. I had the “I just know” feeling  after all, and my prayers seemed to confirm it. He felt differently in the end, his answers from God very different than mine, and decided against marrying me and sharing my bed, and within the same year I lost four aunts: three to cancer, and one after a forty-five year battle with multiple sclerosis. My favorite aunts would not be there celebrate with me on my wedding day; there would no longer be a wedding. Those early morning moments, between closed and open eyes, is a vulnerable time. I began to wake up to accusing voices in my head, and this is what they said:

You are living your greatest fear; this is how it will be from now on.

You will always be alone.

You are getting old; soon you won’t be able to have children.

You are unlovable.

I told close friends and my parents, an older women  I trust and my counselor about these voices, and they wisely replaced the lies with hope. It helped. But along with truth, I was also listening to voices elsewhere,  was told by well-meaning people to “Just get married, don’t wait any longer to have kids”  (because it is just that easy), or finding myself in a writing slump (not a good thing for a writer), or mourning the fact that I am not living in my ideal setting, and I would find myself back in the world of those voices, which sounded so….truthful at times.

Hope seemed like a lie.

And then I turned 30, and although it was a special day filled with loving words,  poems, songs, and a dinner,  I found myself fighting to be honest about my yet unmet desires, especially when being told, as this woman said to me the other week, “When you’re 30, people start to worry,” and “You really want to have your kids younger than this.” I spit back my go-to line: “I’m waiting for a good one,” while inwardly I felt sadness at being misunderstood as “choosy” or “uncommitted” instead of patient. It hurts when people miss your heart. Choosing hope has been part of a spiritual battle, one I’ve been fighting for what feels like eons. Often, I’m ashamed to say, even though I pray I’m a little like Eore.

O God. Help.

So, back to “Trust me.” With those two words, I realized that my worry and fear, dwelt on, had become sin. I had been sinning like crazy, and tearfully asked God for forgiveness. How often I doubt his goodness. It is so easy to see his goodness in the lives in other people, but do I trust his love for me, that he will be good to me?

I do. I must. It’s a choice I signed up for when I decided to follow Christ. After all, I married him first. I realize the truth of that promise after almost two and a half years of grieving the loss of what I thought to be good.  I have learned that  if the world’s a stage, God’s work is going on behind the curtain. Sometimes we hear hammerings or peals of laughter behind the velvet panels, or we catch a quick  glimpse of the shining work he’s doing, but we’re still waiting for that curtain to open. Regardless, God chooses to involve us. Despite our blindness to the whole picture, what we do, think, speak, act, and meditate on, matters. What I realized the morning of “Trust me”  is that I have been meditating on the wrong thing–I’ve been looking at my audience, so to speak, studying the features of my circumstances to determine whether my life means much or not. When I look at him I realize there is good work being done. And the curtain hasn’t even opened yet.

Oh, how he loves us.

Trust me.

________

If you like Erin as much as I do, you might want to check out the other times she has appeared on my site. There may even be a little music montage in one of the videos…

What’s Your Romance Novel?

Ask Joy: Fickle Men

Stuff I Like: Erin Hobbie

Formal Lunch – Part 1: Loving Men

Formal Lunch – Part 2: Communication with Men

Formal Lunch – Part 3: Peace, Feelings & Dating

Formal Lunch – Part 4: Healthy God-Centered Sexuality

Formal Lunch – Part 5: Healthy God-Centered Sexuality Continued

Formal Lunch – Part 6: The Dating Game

 

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22 Comments

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    • Bekah Hope thinks...

      This speaks to me. Right where I am. Today. Thank you.

      There are some days it seems like I’m in a constant fight to “Turn my eyes upon Jesus”… But as soon as I do – as soon as I look to the Author and Finisher of my faith, as soon as I stay my mind on Him, all the anxiety melts away. The insecurity is silenced.

      Again, thank you.

      Reply| at |

    • Kristen thinks...

      This post resonated with me so much–I can’t even explain.

      Thank you & Erin for sharing.

      Reply| at |

    • Sue thinks...

      Thanks for sharing your thoughts. This really spoke to my heart when I’ve been struggling with the same feelings and doubts. thank you, thank you!

      Reply| at |

    • Linda Stoll thinks...

      Oh this is so good … you are offering beautiful hope and such a heartfelt, wise perspective. I’ll be sharing it with the women in my world …

      Reply| at |

    • Julie thinks...

      Oh, man. This is sooooo good. This is me except without the picture in Switzerland…

      Reply| at |

    • Val thinks...

      What an honor to have been your roommate en Suisse, Erin! I remember you waking up one morning and saying, “Another day in paradise!” We were getting a glimpse of it then, and we knew.

      What seasons we go through! You captured this one excellently. Love!

      Reply| at |

    • Amy thinks...

      Erin, you always have a way of speaking the words that my heart can’t find. Thank you for sharing your heart & struggles & hope. You’re right – sometimes hope feels dangerous. I guess we’re living on the edge, friend! (Though, not literally, as you were in that photo…. which is absolutely adorable!)

      Reply| at |

    • Erin thinks...

      Bekah, I know, right? I think sometimes I will spend my whole life learning to look at him. I’m so glad my story met you today.

      Kristen and Sue, you are so welcome!

      Linda, thanks for helping pass on the message that our hope is not a lie.

      Julie, I’m sorry that you’ve been experiencing similiar things…I anticipate with you the day what is planted in sorrow will be reaped in joy!

      Val, those days were the good ones, but good ones are ahead too. I miss seeing you blowdry your hair…and thanks for the reminder that this is a season…

      Amy! Here’s to living on the edge…

      Reply| at |

    • Makeda thinks...

      This post resonated with me in more ways than I could possibly begin to explain. The ache has been so real and so tangible lately. I have spent years avoiding this pain, pretending it wasn’t there and this year God has asked me to have the courage to feel this pain and TRUST that He would be with me in it. There are days when it takes my breathe away; days when it feels so dark and heavy and too much to bear; days when hoping feels like a fool’s errand. And in those moments the Father has always met. Never in the way I expect but always in ways that lifts my heart. When I am scraping the bottom of my hope barrel, when it feels like only dregs and I’m barely holding on, He parts the darkness and lifts the ache long enough for me to have my hope bucket refilled. It isn’t easy but I am, like you, learning to just trust Him in this space. Thank you for sharing your heart today. Your words have touched this heart in ways you will never know.

      Reply| at |

      • JOY thinks...

        “Hoping feels like a fools errand.” Well said. I feel you lady. It’s weird when suffering comes in an area so many of thought was a guarantee.

        Reply| at |

    • Dena G thinks...

      Thank you for sharing this.

      I was the woman who listened to the “When you’re 30, people start to worry” voices and married the first man who seemed “ok”. Nine years later, I was divorced and facing a whole new set of “helpful” advice-givers. I chose to listen to God this time.

      Seven years later, I’m STILL un-remarried (never would have dreamed this would happen). Mostly content. Not always. Some days, I don’t even pretend to understand why God has put me in this place, but…I’m choosing to trust Him as well.

      Reply| at |

      • JOY thinks...

        Thank you so much for sharing Dena. You have been through a lot! Stay strong.

        Reply| at |

    • Lisa thinks...

      Hi Erin,
      I loved this piece and it looks like it meant a lot to many other people as well. I’m glad I met you when you were here visiting so I can place the voice.
      love, Lisa

      Reply| at |

    • Gardenia thinks...

      Loved this post. It brought tears to my eyes as I read it. It’s a long and rewarding road this one of trusting God completely.

      Reply| at |

    • Paul | All Groan Up thinks...

      Fear is such a dirty little liar isn’t it!! Thank you Erin for this reminder so we can remember to tell fear to shut the freak up.

      Reply| at |

    • Rob thinks...

      Thanks for posting this. I too fall for ridiculous lies about who I am. They sound so threatening in my head, but when I share them aloud I must sound so foolish to actually believe them. Why is it so hard to believe our friends who are stoked on us?

      You should consider round house kicking people in the face who tell you lies.

      Reply| at |

      • JOY thinks...

        I whole heartedly agree Rob. To the first part anyways…
        But speaking of round housing…I had a dream last night I was in the London riots and I got ninja kicked in the gut. Yup.

        Reply| at |

    • alece thinks...

      erin, this so resonates with me. on so many levels. thank you for this beautiful and honest glimpse into your heart.

      do you blog? tweet? anything? i wanna soak up more of your words and heart.

      Reply| at |

      • Erin thinks...

        I’m so glad this post resonated with y’all. I think God honors the honest vulnerability, not just in my story but in each of yours, which these comments have reminded me. And the challenge is to remember the truth of future tense, I think. Things WILL be more than okay, they will be good. And the suffering we feel today is part of that goodness someday. So, thanks for your words.

        Lisa, I loved meeting you too and look forward to a someday meeting when you have a bigger Bear. 🙂

        Alece, I’ve read YOUR stuff before, so it’s encouraging to me that you like my words. I’m in the final throes of school right now, in writing, so I don’t have tons of time to update it, but if you would like to visit my poor, neglected blog, it’s: http://www.thewideopendoor.wordpress.com

        Reply| at |

        • JOY thinks...

          Glad you posted your site Erin! We had some peeps on Twitter asking. Pretty sure Stephanie sent it to them with a similar caveat. Thank you SO much for writing!!

          Reply| at |

    • katie thinks...

      finally catching up on my reader and i was stoked to see my favorite writer had done a guest post for you, Joy! 🙂 she is a blessing for so many reasons. (and i know your friendship is a huge blessing to her, as well.)

      Reply| at |

      • JOY thinks...

        Glad you enjoyed! And I loved the update card about Harper. Thank you for sending!

        Reply| at |

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