Really, it wasn’t the unmannerly expelling of gas in a public place that did me in that day.  It was all that came before.  It was the year-long battle to right myself after the death of my aunt Winnie; who was like my mom, that left this ship listing badly and in need of repairs to her mainsail and a good stiff wind to keep going.  It was the months long battle between me and my husband when I solicited his help in this matter only to be met with a blank stare and a return to “guns and ammo land” (in his defense he did offer suggestions but can not help me with my work – counseling privacy laws and all).  It was the months long battle to gain the help of my girls in doing their chores without me having to ride herd on them.  It was the months long off and on internet service with little to no explanation about why it doesn’t work anymore.  I advance only to be beaten back; wearied, harassed and ready to throw in the towel of defeat.  It has also been seeing a friend receive something I have had to work twice as hard to finish; I am forced to wait for the outcome, she is now certified.  It isn’t her fault there were choices I made as a young woman who needed to be reconciled before I could proceed.  I understood this but still wanted to throw just the tiniest of pity parties for myself.  It has been me battling doubt, fear, anger, grief and rejection until I am numb.  While the breaking wind incident really wasn’t that big of a deal; considering the person letting loose of their noxious fumes didn’t have the slightest clue their ill behavior was so disturbing, it was what sent me over the edge into nothingness.

I had called my husband to ask him to handle the internet people and cell phone people as we hadn’t had cell service or internet for most of the holiday weekend.  He of course countered that I should call because they would want to trouble shoot with me over the phone (secretly this was what I wanted to avoid).  After much (ah hem) conversation, He finally relented and agreed to call.  AANNDD of course he was right.  They called me to trouble shoot yet again!  After hanging up with the internet provider believing they would not be out until a week later I then called the cell service provider.  I of course get no resolution there either.

In an effort not to be done in I reschedule my clients for later in the week and decided to set up a mobile office in the library in an attempt to finish an intake and do some billing.  When I finally got there all the seats were taken.  There were moms with young kids, developmentally delayed adults with their helpers, a few job searchers, a couple of homeless people I recognized from around town and several other business type people packed into every chair and seating arrangement throughout the library.  Each taking up valuable table and outlet space as they surfed using the free wi-fi on their affordable cell phones and laptops.  I finally found a chair with what looked like a pullout table attached and prepared to unload my laptop and other essentials so I could get down to work.

I had just settled in, turning on my laptop, when all of a sudden one of the developmentally delayed young women setting at a table in front of me lifted her left cheek and farted.  She then began waving her hand to dissipate the fog of hateful fumes around for others to enjoy (sarcasm).   That was it!  Already I had been on the verge of tears due to the lengthy disappointing phone calls regarding cell and net service or lack thereof but also how difficult the task of catching up and breaking through was proving to be.  I have opportunity before me but can’t seem to complete it because I lack the tools I need to succeed.  My frustration mounts as I buck against these chains and bridle meant to keep me from God’s best, his intended path for me and his ministry.  I am weary, tired and need God to move mountains standing in my way. 

I sat there head in hands.  Took a deep breath and packed up yet again my laptop and supplies.  I just could not continue down this weary stumbling path and needed God to intervene.  I decided despite all that I had yet to do I needed to spend some time setting in the presence of the ONE who had the answers I lacked.  The ONE who could move mountains, heal my broken heart, fix my internet and arrange for AT&T to prioritize me on their to do list and provide the breakthrough I was seeking.  I stopped and got a cup of Molly special and proceeded home.  Upon arrival I left everything where it was, took my coffee in hand, and made my way to the back deck to ponder and pray.  After a while, I opened my phone and selected some of my favorite worship songs and began to worship Him, thanking Him for all that I had and all that He would provide.  I sat there soaking in His presence as he lavished His love upon my weary heart; I was reminded how he loves me and that the struggle itself is sometimes part of the breakthrough.  Isaiah 41:10 says “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God.  I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”

I played song after song until slowly it dawned upon me that my Wi-Fi was fixed and my cell service had been restored!  Thank you Jesus!  God does hear our prayers,  he cares for His people and their struggles.  He wants to intervene and help if we allow Him into our circumstance.  Looking back now I can laugh at the absurdity of the situation but at the time I felt as if nothing would ever give.  It did but it wasn’t because of my great ability to overcome or my magnanimous effort at tidying my life and creating order out of the chaos of grief.  My circumstance gave way to breakthrough because of the perfect ability of a savior sent to set us free and capture our hearts for his own.  My breakthrough came because of the faintest of whispers to a grief-stricken heart by the Holy Spirit who loves so deeply and cares so much He provided a way for this stubborn girl to come to Him, rest in His presence and receive what I lacked.  My breakthrough was not found in my productivity it was found at the feet of Jesus.