Getting To The Biscuits
Every street became a dead end. It was the first week of school after the holidays. I had been up an hour and I already wanted the day to be over. It was emphatically, one of those days. My sweet, blue eyed son, Cameron, was crying in the backseat. “Mommy, I’m going to miss the biscuits.”
With construction on every corner around my neighborhood my headache worsened, and we were very late to school. Today– was no ordinary day. My second grader was going to watch biscuits rise in the oven, and hear about how Jesus rose for us as well. Stuck in traffic, all I could think was; I wanted Jesus to rise me above the traffic and land us at school on time.
We were clearly going to miss the biscuits.
Have you ever had one of those days? Heck, who am I kidding, have you ever had one of those months. If I’m honest, I was most definitely coming off of one of those seasons, and missing the biscuits seemed to fit right in.
My New Year’s resolution rattled around in my aching head. I was going to get better; be more focused; I was already failing.
My dad had been gone from this world for four and a half months now, and although the grief had lifted a bit, my life seemed to still be in shambles. I had let everything go while in my deepest sadness. My house was mediocre clean, and somehow, I seemed to have drifted through the holidays. Determined to get better once we started the New Year, but I still couldn’t get it together.
While traffic seemed to overflow in the world around me, my eyes began to overflow with tears.
“God, are you mad at me?” My inner soul seemed to ask. The question startled both of us. I had not talked to Him in quite awhile. Yet, somehow this seemed like the perfect time to re-engage.
“I want you to get up.” He spoke softly but with intention. I knew He didn’t mean physically from behind the wheel, He meant in my spirit. “I’m not quite ready yet.” I muttered.
“It’s time you got up, my child.”
Each time He calls me that, I can’t help but respond. It’s one of those moments when you intuitively know your Father has spoken. I envisioned myself with the covers over my head, after all, that’s where I’d been the past few months; both physically and symbolically. With that one sentence, I saw myself rise to put my feet over the side of the bed.
I had been having this breakdown for awhile.We all go through seasons of breakdowns. You know, when something hits your life that you didn’t see coming and you certainly didn’t want. It could be physical, financial, or even relationship related. Trials are a part of our fallen world, but we can’t be consumed with our breakdown.
Newsflash: I was consumed.
Truth be told, I had become comfortable in my breakdown. Slipped it on like an old shoe. I had become so in tune with my sadness that it seemed to be a part of me. It had taken over. Now, on the brink of missing the biscuits rise, and my child sobbing in the backseat, this was not the time that I pictured God would speak; but it was never more clear.
I know enough about myself and God that when I am at this place, He brought me here to learn something.
“Okay, I’ll get up, but I’m still not happy about what happened.” I answered in silence, while still trying to comfort my child that somehow he would see the biscuits, if I had to make them rise myself!
God answered. “The truth is–you’re not happy with me, because you think I took your daddy.”
I thought I might blackout.
Time stood still.
Remember when you were a child, and your parent knew you did something, you honestly thought they could never find out? That’s exactly how the moment felt. As if I could hide something from God? I think I thought if I just didn’t place the thoughts in my mind, that it wouldn’t be true. It was so true.
I was angry at God.
Unequivocally, I thought His timing was way off to take my dad. If he would have had one more year to enjoy dinners in my new home, see my children play sports, would that have been so bad? I think we were on the brink of showing real affection towards each other, and now I will never know how that would’ve turned out. “Okay, I was mad.”
Not only was I upset and questioning His timing, but truth be told, I kind of felt God had forgotten me.
All the blood rushed from my face. Then, on Southlake Boulevard, the Holy Spirit began to uncover the lie that I had believed for almost a year.
The lie: God didn’t hear my prayers about healing my dad from his sickness. I didn’t see that coming this morning, I’m just trying to get to the biscuits.
I’m a sold out believer that after any breakdown there is an extraordinary breakthrough. I had no idea I was about to have mine in the middle of traffic! It’s all throughout the beautiful pages of scripture. Everyone who was going through a breakdown of some sort was heading straight into a breakthrough.
Breakthrough is actually defined as an act of removing an obstruction or restriction.
The lies we believe are the obstructions or restrictions of how we think about ourselves or our problem. To have that obstruction or restriction removed, we have to first uncover the lie.
That was happening to me, trying to get to the biscuits. I wanted the obstruction of traffic to be removed; but instead, God uncovered the obstruction that was in my heart.
That lie was restricting me from getting fully “up” while in my breakdown.
Traffic had moved, and we rushed into school. “Find the kitchen. Find the kitchen,” I thought. Running through the halls, pulling my downcast seven-year old by his shirtsleeve, I was determined. We rounded the corner, and all of his classmates were standing in front of the oven. Cameron rushed to take a look through his peers. The look on his face was priceless. He turned back to smile his million dollar smile at me; the world was right again.
“Never doubt: MY timing is perfect, my child.”
As God spoke, I watched the light radiate through my child’s eyes. This child turned to leave; wrecked by the goodness of her Father. Arriving at my car, I could barely see the ignition hole; tears flowed so hard. I asked God for forgiveness for thinking that His timing was incorrect, and renounced the lie that my prayers weren’t heard.
Driving home I felt I needed to go back to bed for awhile, the morning had been so emotional. Forty-five minutes after my sleep, I heard God say, “It’s time you got up.”
Suddenly, I pictured myself going from sitting on the side of the bed, to fully vertical. This was such a symbolic place He wanted me to be, and I think it’s where He wants all of us to be. No matter what your breakdown is at this moment, He says, “It’s time you got up”–vertically–with Him. We can’t conquer anything lying down. I’ve learned it’s all about His timing and stages. My life had seemed to resemble a silent movie about grief the past year; my stages were done.
Are you currently in a breakdown about something? If so, I believe the following verse is for you.
Exodus 17:1 says, “From the wilderness of sin the whole congregation of Israelites journeyed by stages, as the Lord commanded.”
I believe God wants us to know that there are stages in our breakdowns:
God is calling us to a deeper level of freedom in a particular area.
God is calling us to leave the familiar and step into something new.
God is wanting us to let go of something that we’ve been holding on to for too long.
I’m praising Him, because I am fully “up” now in my spirit, and I’m ready to conquer the next thing. I’ve also most assuredly learned, God’s timing is perfect, and He can use any situation for His good.
Even small things, like biscuits.