I’ve been holding my breath for the last few days, and if I don’t relieve myself of these words I’m afraid I’ll pass out from the lack of oxygen.

I have a list of things I’ve been meaning to write about, yet I’ve been avoiding them; it’s been making me feel overwhelmed and helpless. Words are swirling, emotions are screaming, my head feels like an orchestra is once again warming up before it plays its greatest ensemble.

The last six days have been spent fighting, protecting, worrying, stressing, and crying—whether I show it on the outside or hold it in on the inside. Sitting on the forefront of last week— not last Saturday and Sunday but the one before—I had no idea what to expect in the days to come. The last thing I excepted was to have my whole family be thrown a “curve ball”, so to say.

My mom will probably be upset with me for sharing this but this post is dedicated to her anyway. So mom, when you read this remember it’s because I don’t know how to share my feeling by any other way than writing…

Readers, my mother suffered a heart attack about a week ago. I won’t go into detail for her sake but I just keep replaying in my head the moment I saw her snow white face. I called 911 bravely, and as the rings flooded my eardrums, I slowly felt my throat close. So clearly I remember hanging up after hearing the infamous lines,”Help is on the way”, and looking to the ground to find a dark red stain.

As the smile fell from her face, I fell with it. I felt my heart drop out of my chest. It hit the floor with a splat, leaving a cold, red bloodstain on the carpet near her bed.

Maybe I imagined this, maybe I didn’t. But I felt it. You know that feeling you get when your heart drops and you get that feeling in the pit of your stomach? Throat tightening, not allowing you to say one word as the salt-water wells in your eyes? Ya, that. I felt that on an exponential level as the sirens got louder and louder.

The siren sound is all so familiar, unfortunately. The feeling of being on the other side, where I’m not the patient, is haunting—all I could think about was the fact that if something did drastically happen to her, I wouldn’t have any parents. And worse, I wouldn’t have my best friend anymore. How do you tell your mind to not think the worst? I can’t even explain the hurt I felt, the betrayal I felt from God.

My thoughts were grey as the enemy wove hurt and resentment into my body. My heart writhed under the weight of indignation. My body was numb.

I laid in a chair early Sunday morning— 3am thoughts shadowing my soul with selfishness—yelling at God while weeping in the quiet, wishing I could turn to my mom so that she could empathise with my discomfort. But I knew I couldn’t, I had to stay strong. This has been anything other than what I had expected.

I childishly shouted all my reasons why things weren’t fair, reasons why this wasn’t okay. I screamed inside of my throat, all I wanted was to go back home and wake up knowing it was all a dream. I was the lobby of the cardiac floor when I looked down and saw a magazine through the wet eyelashes. It read, Stand Firm.

I opened the magazine and in it was an article on Ephesians 6. The writer wrote, “And with truth that gives freedom of mobility, righteousness that protects the heart and gives confidence, with peace that surpasses all understanding and gives stability to stand in the face of oncoming danger, and with faith that extinguishes lies and salvation that protects the mind, we are told to hold our ground and stand firm.”

As the morning sun shown upon my face—now nearing 5am— those two words and the small dot that followed had found a new meaning in my heart and in my mind. My racing thoughts were stilled, and a compassion came over my soul. I was reminded that I am where I am because it’s for my good and for His glory.

Romans 5:3-5 “ Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.”

Even though I was burnt in the fire of uncertainty this past week, I realised that even though hard times are not fun—the moments that make us shed tears and shake our fists at Heaven; the moments that make me think I’m just some dumb kid pretending I have my life together—I need to Stand Firm in my faith; my Saviour paid too high of price for me to forget that and to have a pity party in my momentary life.

I was burnt this week friends, whether I liked it or not. It all comes down to one important lesson I learned, and I say it baring witness of all my readers:  Jesus, I must confess that I won’t be afraid anymore. I won’t be afraid to step into the flame. You know my path because You have designed it. You know the plans you have laid out for me— the plans for me to prosper and give me hope and a future. If you are for me—whom shall I fear that is against me?

How beautiful right? Maveners, I ask you to help me remember that. I will forget from time to time and I ask that you keep me accountable for never fearing the times that hold me down.

I know this post is quite biblical, but readers I can’t hide what’s in my heart. Whether you believe or not, I covet your thoughts and prayers, because I am not perfect. We all have our times of need. The disciple Paul himself set an example by asking the Ephesians for prayer nearing the end of Ephesians 6.  Not as a sign of weakness or out of selfishness, but rather because it’s what we as Christians are supposed to do—and to tell you the truth I am terrible at asking for prayer because I do feel that it is selfish of me. But following my theme for this week—growth and not fearing—there you have it.

One final thought: Mama, you’re my best friend. I’m so happy and relived you are back at home. I’m thankful that you are still here with me as I continue this uphill journey through life, my faith, and as I slowly uncover the binding and everlasting love of our Saviour. I’m thankful you have instilled in me a strength I will never, ever lose sight of. I hope to one day be the mother you are to me to my own. And as we always say… I love you to a mole… 6.23×10²³ 

Standing Firm, Uptown Maven