Transformed and Renewed

My hope for this first blog is to help others who find themselves in a similar situation. 

Topic today: Renewed faith topped with grief. 

This past year has been a season of testing. Back in November 2020, I went through a deep depression. I was hesitant to include mental health in my blog, but reminded the hesitation comes from the stigma society has engraved in our perceptions of how we are "supposed" to cope with challenges. 

Back in November, I felt anxious and worried. I had been a remote teacher, and the distance from school and colleagues caused me to feel isolated. This caused so much distress at home. I doubted myself. My confidence was at its lowest. 

There were several times I sobbed uncontrollably. The feeling of being stuck can really get into your core. Almost every sitting area in our home was tainted with my tears. Tear drops would dry on the floor and look like spilt water. I cried so much on the floor of my closet one night, I wasn't sure how I was going to get myself up. 

I took two weeks off from work. I walked. I read a book about burnout. I considered quitting teaching, but I was afraid to take the plunge and survive on one salary. Fear kept me in this cycle of sadness for so long. 

I don't remember the exact time or day I started listening to worship music. It must have been in December- right before the holidays. I started to worship as I got ready in the mornings, in between classes, and at night, while in the shower. Shower is a great place to let everything out. No need for tissue in the shower, where literally everything is just washed away. 

Then in December, I received a phone call. I didn't answer, since I didn't recognize the number. I waited for a voicemail, and it was a young lady from my church. I hadn't attended church for a couple of years, yet she was calling with an invitation for church service- online or in person. 

The funny thing is she was also a teacher. She was also experiencing a season of testing and questioning staying in the profession. 

At the end of our call, I cried knowing that was the work of God. He was calling me to learn more about His word and grow in my faith. 

So, I started watching sermons online. I think in January 2021, I began reading the Bible. I didn't know where to start. I was surprised I actually had a Bible in my drawer. I preferred the downloaded app on my phone. I made it intentional to memorize scriptures and pray in my closet. If that closet could talk. So much transformation, and I'm not talking about new wardrobe. My closet became my desert- my private place of prayer. 

I attended sermon in February 2021. We had just experienced one of the coldest winters in Dallas. We were one of the fortunate families who didn't lose power or water. So, there I was, on a Sunday morning, worshipping like I had never worshipped before. Lifting my hands and thanking the Lord for keeping power on for us during the winter storm. 

Then came March 3rd. I had finished the Book of Psalms. I recited verses, and continued on my day. And I got the call from my mother that afternoon. She told me my father was in the hospital. I jumped from the couch and thought, "This is it- my faith and trust is about to be tested. Will it withstand what I was about to experience?"

I was in a panic. Packing and buying a plane ticket. I was desperate to see my father. On the way to the airport, I tried bargaining with God. "Lord, please let my father recover from surgery. I will take care of him. I will do whatever it takes". I was negotiating what was already decided. It wasn't up to me- it was out of my control. It was never in my control. 

My father passed away the same day. March 3rd, 2021 at 7:30 pm. I didn't see him one last time. I spoke with him, but the doctor said he was unresponsive, and there was already too much lack of oxygen to the brain. I still said my goodbyes and told him to go in peace. 

If I wasn't saved before March, I don't know how I would find the strength to bury my father. You see, God knew my father would pass. How loving a God that he prepared me for the hardest, most trying time of my life. He knew the pain I was going to experience. He patiently waited as I opened my heart and received Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior. 

This is my testimony. God went before me and met me where I was at. He gave me strength. The only reason I was able to speak at my father's funeral was because I prayed for God to go before me. I prayed for the Holy Spirit to guide my words and emotions. It was God that was working through me. When I first saw my father's body, I cried out, "Lord, give me strength". I repeated that several times, and I was able to touch his hand and put my hand over his heart to whisper, "I love you, Dad". 

Even in my darkest hours, God showed His goodness. This has been the hardest year of my life, but it has also transformed me. I will never be the same Laila. Nor do I want to be. This is me, a renewed soul with a grieving heart. 

I'm not angry at God. He prepared me by building my faith. He ensured I was firmly rooted in His word. He will never forsake me. The hardest time of my life proved that my Lord, my Heavenly Father, will never leave my side. He loves me, and wants me to give Him my grief. He wants to carry this pain and walk with me. 

May this blog help you open your heart to the Lord. Surrender your grieving heart- whatever your grief might be. Surrender and pray for peace. My testimony is my faith. May your testimony transform you into a new relationship with God. 

Peace be with you, always. 

The Lord is my strength and my song; He has become my salvation- Psalm 118:14.