For my special Sunday message I’m bringing back another of the articles I wrote several years ago. \u00a0I hope it will be a blessing to you!<\/p>\n
Angels with Crowbars<\/p>\n
When I stepped into the elevator, everyone smiled.<\/p>\n
These folks are sure in a good mood for a Monday,<\/em> I thought.<\/p>\n At the next stop another group of people got on the elevator, looked at me, and smiled.\u00a0 I began to get suspicious. \u00a0When it happened again at the third stop, I was in a panic. \u00a0 I was fairly sure no necessary articles of apparel were missing,\u00a0 and\u00a0 I distinctly remembered cutting the price tags off my new sweater.\u00a0 So what was so funny?<\/p>\n The next stop added another group of smiling people, and I bolted for the ladies room. \u00a0To my chagrin,\u00a0 I saw in the mirror the cause of everyone’s “good mood.”\u00a0 I had, indeed, taken off the price tags, but\u00a0 had not noticed the size sticker.\u00a0 There it was, plastered across my definitely ample bust.\u00a0 It said, “LARGE.” \u00a0I ruefully peeled it off and threw it into the trash can.\u00a0 Oh well, I thought, it will be a funny story to tell the next time the conversation gets dull.<\/p>\n I went on my way, not realizing until later that I had\u00a0 passed a milestone. \u00a0A few years earlier I wouldn’t have laughed. \u00a0 Instead of a funny story to tell on myself, it would have been yet another example of\u00a0 how I could do nothing right — even dress myself.<\/p>\n I still don\u2019t know why the dark cloud of depression slipped down over my soul.\u00a0 I was sure of my salvation, and of my love for the Lord.\u00a0 I had a wonderful husband and four great kids.\u00a0 Yet, life\u00a0 no longer seemed\u00a0 worth the bother.\u00a0 I was a failure at everything and could do nothing right. Every incident reminded me of a time I had failed or was publicly embarrassed by saying something stupid or thoughtless.\u00a0 Every thought circled back to me–and how I was just no good. \u00a0 It was as if I was\u00a0 locked in a dungeon. The windows were boarded up, and I was trapped.<\/p>\n “Lord,” I prayed, “I am no use to You like this.\u00a0 Please, either deliver me, or take my life.”<\/p>\n God could have done what I expected. He could have sent a shining angel down with the key to the dungeon that very night and freed me from the chains of my depression.\u00a0 He had\u00a0 His own plan for my deliverance, though, and sent a band of\u00a0 “angels” to deliver me. \u00a0 They were an unlikely bunch, and came without the\u00a0 key.\u00a0 Instead they came with crowbars, and, one by one, pried the boards off my prison windows to let the light into my dungeon.<\/p>\n The first crew didn\u2019t look like an angel troop, but that didn’t stop God from using them.\u00a0 The\u00a0 office where I worked was staffed by sweet grandmotherly–looking ladies. \u00a0 They all swore like troopers and back-stabbed\u00a0 with obvious enthusiasm.<\/p>\n At least<\/em>, I mused, I never say anything purposely vicious or unkind — only stupid things that make me sound idiotic.\u00a0 \u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n Then it hit me. \u00a0 I wasn’t depressed about the sinful things I said.\u00a0 It was only the stupid things that\u00a0 bothered me.\u00a0 I wasn’t being humble and pleasing to the Lord\u00a0 by rehashing\u00a0 all\u00a0 my\u00a0 “foot in mouth” mistakes.\u00a0 I was just focusing on myself.\u00a0And so, with the help of that unlikely rescue team, a big board was pried off my prison window.<\/p>\n The next rescue angel was more easily recognized.\u00a0 He was\u00a0 preaching at a Bible conference.<\/p>\n \u201cSometimes we set different goals for ourselves than God demands,\u201d he said.\u00a0 \u201cOften they are impossible to reach, or aren\u2019t even in God\u2019s plan for us. When we focus on wrong goals, we set ourselves up for failure.\u201d<\/p>\n And with a bang another board came flying from my dungeon window.\u00a0 I always thought I would be famous and successful in some way. \u00a0 Perhaps I would write a book, or be in demand as a public speaker.\u00a0 Now middle age was closing in on me with no claim to fame in sight.<\/p>\n Or was I really unsuccessful? \u00a0 I had made choices that\u00a0 were right scripturally and\u00a0 had served the Lord faithfully in the church and in my family. \u00a0 My failure was only the failure of my unrealistic\u00a0 goals.<\/p>\n Again, I saw my humility for what it was — nothing but self-centered pride, moaning for what God, in His love and wisdom, never intended me to have.<\/p>\n The third rescue\u00a0 angel was a small one, my youngest daughter.<\/p>\n “I’ll never get this right,” she said as she drooped over the piano keys.\u00a0 “I’m just not\u00a0 talented enough to play the piano.”<\/p>\n “Of course you are!” I said.\u00a0 “You’ve come a very long way in the short time you’ve been taking lessons.\u00a0 You’re a bright girl, and you’ve got lots of gumption.\u00a0 You can do it.”<\/p>\n The encouraging words perked her up sufficiently to struggle on with the difficult piano piece.<\/p>\n And another board fell off the window, letting in another ray of light.<\/p>\n I didn’t even consider letting her discouragement go unchallenged.\u00a0 Certainly I wouldn’t have encouraged her to be down on herself.<\/p>\n Was I was\u00a0 kinder than God? \u00a0 Did I love my child more than God loved His?\u00a0 Why should I think He would be pleased by my\u00a0 self-inflicted suffering? \u00a0 \u00a0The light streamed into my prison house enough for me to finally see the truth. The door was not only unlocked, but stood wide open. God never intended for me to be there.\u00a0 He didn’t want me to be miserable. He wanted me to be confident enough to forget about myself and focus\u00a0on others.\u00a0 That’s the spirit that God values, one that is\u00a0 not self punishing, but self-forgetful.<\/p>\n It has taken a while to rid myself of those false notions of humility and to learn to laugh at harmless mistakes instead of punishing myself for them. Yet, the embarrassing size sticker I laughed off was proof that God is, indeed, making progress with me as I continue to walk out of the dark dungeon of depression\u00a0 into the freedom of His love and grace. Eating to live and living for Chris<\/em>t, <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" For my special Sunday message I’m bringing back another of the articles I wrote several years ago. \u00a0I hope it will be a blessing to you! Angels with Crowbars When I stepped into the elevator, everyone smiled. These folks are sure in a good mood for a Monday, I thought. At the next stop another…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":423,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-509","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"yoast_head":"\n
\n\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n
\nSusan Jordan Brown<\/p>\n