An unexpected sunflower
Tonight, I had the honor of meeting and hearing one of my favorite authors of all time speak. Last year when I fell into a pretty deep depression, her 10-day study about rest practically saved me. I had quit my job because I could barely get out of bed and I felt like God wanted to teach me how to rest — but I had no idea how to. Three days into unemployment, I randomly came across her study and it changed my life. As I put Rebekah Lyons’ ideas into practice and slowed my life down, I experienced God like never before and He rescued me.
When I found out Rebekah was coming to Chicago, I jumped at the opportunity to see her in person. And even though her speech was amazing (truly amazing!), my favorite part of the night took place in a small enclosed prayer room with a sweet petite woman named Carmen.
Carmen is a gentle, powerful woman whose eyes look Jesus’s. Now I’ve never seen Jesus’s eyes, but if I did, I think they’d match Carmen’s. They’re full of life and kindness and love. I asked Carmen to pray for me because I’ve been grieving the loss of my dad and I’ve just felt overwhelmingly sad. In her prayer, Carmen reminded me of Joseph’s words, “What you intended for harm, God intended for good” in Genesis 50:20. She said, “God will not waste any of your pain.” She also mentioned seeing a sunflower as she prayed.
My ears perked up at the mention of a sunflower. A few days ago, my dear friend Alycia also saw a sunflower as she was praying for me. I didn’t realize what it meant, but I tucked the thought away and meant to ask God about it later. Tonight, He brought it up again and I asked Carmen what she thought it meant. She smiled as she replied, “What do sunflowers do?” My eyes lit up, “They point toward the sun!” “Right,” she said. “They point toward the Son.”
“Keep your eyes on Jesus,” she said. “When you have every thought of sadness, bring it to him. You have to grieve. If you don’t grieve now, it will blow up out of you when you are 45. God catches every tear you cry. Bring it all to Him every moment.”
Losing my dad in May has caused the deepest pain I’ve felt in my life so far. I don’t understand it and I have so many questions for God. In addition to a part of me that feels like it is missing, another piece of my battle has been giving myself permission to simply feel how I feel. Like somehow God won’t be pleased with me if I don’t have it all together. Slowly though, He has been showing me that He’s perfectly okay with where I’m at. In fact, He can only meet me where I’m at because it’s real and He only lives in reality — He can’t enter any fake “I-have-it-together” facade I put up.
When I was little, I learned that Jesus died for my sins. I didn’t realize that also included my pain as well. Tonight, Rebekah quoted Mother Teresa who wrote, “If a person is sad, he or she is withholding something from Jesus.” Jesus bought our freedom on the cross 2,000 years ago. He carried all of our burdens. As we come to Him with our pain, He gives us something beautiful in return. Instead of despair, He gives us hope. Instead of depression, He gives us joy. Instead of anxiety, He gives us peace. Instead of death, He gives us abundant life. Everything He has is ours.
My journey of grief has, in many ways, only just begun. It’s not neatly tied up in a bow. The story is far from over. The questions seem endless. But I will continue to look to the “Sonflower” trusting that He will bring beauty out of these ashes one day.
Joyfully,
Lauren
