The Choice… Five months ago

I wrote these words 6 months ago

 

Have you ever had one of those moments where you have to make a decision, you don’t have days to pray about it, but maybe an hour. It feels like a lot rests on that moment, that one choice. I’m there now. Four hours ago I had a phone call saying it was advised I return to the UK for further tests.  But I feel fine, in fact I was comforted when I first heard the words “Ms R******? This is Natalie from Global Response”, I thought they were ringing to tell me I could go back to my home in A-Land. Now suddenly the tables were flipped and I was being told I should be taking a step further away from returning.

 

But there is still a choice… … I can decide to disregard their advise, to buy my own flight home… if I choose that and my “condition” worsens I’m on my own. Do I play it safe and follow their advise, even if it seems a stretch too far? Or do I go against what they’re saying, risk financial burdens, but get to return home? So what do I do? What’s the right decision, is there even a right decision? How do I know? It seems like a choice too big to make, and I realize I’ve become a single adult where I have to make these decisions, these choices, alone, and I have to be ready for the consequences. So I cry out to God. He is, after all, my loving father, He has the plan drawn up, and He is wisdom itself.

 

Silence.

 

I get texting and calling and emailing “I’ve gotta make this decision, please pray” Is all that I say. Then I get back down on my knees.

 

Silence.

 

I ask for advise from wise friends. I seek out more facts, more knowledge, yes a knowledgeable person always makes better choices.Then I get back down on my knees.

 

Silence.

 

Or is it? Have I just become deaf to the voice? Or have I developed selective hearing, I don’t like what’s being whispered to me, so I don’t let myself hear it.

 

I get back down on my knees. Humble me God. Open my ears, open my heart. Show me, I am weak, I am unable to make this choice, but you are strength, you are wisdom, you hold my future in your hands, you see all and you know all.

 

Tears stream, not because I am upset, not because I am resisting, but because I am weak,  because I realise my total dependence on Him, and I know not when he will answer.

 

The questions rise upside me, and I call them out loud between the heavy sobs.

 

God, are you purposefully pulling me away from that place I now call home for a reason? God, could it be that you really don’t want me there right now? Are you just trying to show me something about myself, but don’t actually plan on taking me away? Am I supposed to stand up and prove my resolve to serve you in that place? Are you trying to show me my doubts about serving you in that place amount to nothing, show me how I know, 100% that that is where you have asked me to be?

 

The questions run dry and I’m left on my knees, with tears collected on the ground. Listening, stilling my heart, stilling my spirit.

 

Silence.

 

Then a still small voice… “Emily, you are my beloved, you have been created for such a time as this, each of your days is already known to me, do not fear, do not fret, I know.”

 

Comfort, I am comforted… but only for a moment. You know? Good, I’m glad you know, but I don’t know, tell me what you know. Share with me that I might make a decision that is glorifying to you, that I might honor you.

 

“Trust me, stop worrying about making the wrong choice, stop worrying about how it might affect the future, stop worrying about what others might think of you.”

 

The phone rings… a wise, loving friend. And as I talk it out with her, I know what I need to do. I hang up ready to get on bended knee once more… but there is no time the phone rings again. It’s the insurers and they want a decision, I say a quick prayer in my head “Holy Spirit guide my lips to speak what you want”.. I hear the words come out of my mouth “Ok I’ll come, I’ll come back to the UK”

 

And in those few words the decision is made. I feel at peace, but the tears have started flowing once more.

 

The fears flood in, “What if I never get to go back?”, “What if everyone thinks less of me?”, “What if my life changes completely?” But I’m stilled, and I remember it’s not about me, it never was, it’s about Him, and His glory. I hand over these thoughts, these feelings, this confusion to Him, and I know he IS my loving father, and that he DOES have a plan. I’m safe there in His arms.

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One Comment on “The Choice… Five months ago”

  1. […] Oh those two days, separated by a month. Those two decisions, some of the hardest I’ve had to make. Read about it here.* […]


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