Where Does My Hope Come From?

My hope and my strength come from God and God alone...

I've sat in self pity for several weeks now longing for a friend, for someone to talk to, for a church home, for something to do...feeling sorry for myself and feeling angry at God for moving us to this awful place.

I've had no one to talk to, so I've cried out to Him. I've yelled and cried and cussed and moaned...and finally realized that most of the places I've lived have placed me in isolation, and in isolation, I've grown the most, I've discovered more of the person God created me to be - breaking out of the mold that family or friends fit me into. Here, I've had to completely rely on Him, I haven't even been able to talk to Luke about my feelings because it's his job that brought us here - he is having enough stress as it is and the last thing he needs is his wife telling him she hates it here and it's all his stupid job's fault, etc.... (I've felt that way!)

Being completely dependent on Him for my strength and my help has allowed me to see how much I've depended on others up until now for my spiritual growth. I know now that I can be lifted up by others, but humanity in it's imperfect state cannot quench my thirst. I have asked that everything that hinders love be removed, that all my walls be broken down in order to know Him more...but I never really thought about what that meant. I thought it would be rosy and beautiful. In reality, it's quite trying. It's not pretty in the beginning.

So, God is answering my prayers by causing me - or almost forcing me - to come to Him, because I have no one else right now. My cries have turned into a yearning to hear His voice, and for Him to break down my soul's walls even more, to see Him, to experience His reality and the fullness of Christ. I want that. I want more, I've said that often...

In His sweetness, He has met me and revealed to me what my worship is at this time. My praise to Him is Mayah. It is so hard for me to stop cleaning and painting and worrying about what else we need to do to this stupid house and just play with her. But every time I do, I hear His voice. This is my race. This is my calling for now. I am not called to redecorate a house, but to play with my child, His beloved.

Also...I have discovered a small spark, an underground group of strong Christian women here in what I once thought was a dying old town. They are meeting once a week for prayer and once a week for Bible study - a conglomeration of women from many different churches in the area. I am hoping to start the Bible study adn maybe find a church that way?