Inviting God to be more intrusive

I, not long ago, had a milestone birthday and it has made me look back at certain things. Y’all, I’m not by any definition old unless you ask my kids: “Well you do have a lot more white hairs and you don’t play basketball as much.”  

Although, I do feel as though I have gained much wisdom and growth from my years thus far. I absolutely give all that glory to the Lord. There is no way I could be sitting here where I type without divine guidance. I am also very aware of the fact that I can recognize his hand in it all because I call on him, I need him, I trust him and I love him so much. I feel him close to me. 

That has not always been the case.  The times in life when I did not feel like I had sound judgment I can clearly see the walls, addictions and distance I created to block our good Lord. It was not intentional but I also did not put in the time to change it. I guess that is how free will works. He isn’t a nagging or pushy God. He is polite and waits to be asked.  

I have often needed him to be more intrusive because I am so weak, and I don’t always turn to him first. I mean, Lord, please bust up in here without a formal summons because your girl thinks she knows it all. My pride and vanity can give me amnesia.  I have to remember he longs for me to ask for his help and he longs for me to really mean it and be ready. 

Once the invite has been sent he will come in like a freight train and so does his momma and y’ all, they stay through it all. What I have acquired in the past decade of my life revealed to me that he finally got his longing or at least his foot into the door of my heart when I was at an ultimate low. 

My low was June 24, 2015, at about 2 a.m.  That day I had a colonoscopy that was the final test of a year’s worth of searching as to what was causing me intense pain and an occasional high rise in pancreatic enzymes.  My GI doctor nudged me awake after the procedure and said, “Ellen, your colon, stomach and esophagus are fine. It’s your pancreas. You have chronic pancreatitis and it’s from drinking. You have to stop drinking.” 

Wide-eyed and full of tears I turned away from him, looked at my husband and sighed. The years of wondering if I “truly” had a problem or not came to a crushing realization.  I know I said earlier that the Lord isn’t pushy but I know he pulled my eyes to an image of the Blessed Mother as I lay in bed that night. Maybe he knew her gentleness could handle this situation. Maybe he knew I would rather ask her instead of bringing this feeling of shame to him.  

I very quickly and with the most sincerity I ever had in my entire life, asked, pleaded more so, with the mother of God to ask her son to take away my pain and in doing so I would never drink again. I woke up the next morning with such hope. I also woke up with worry as I was able to find a reason to drink nearly every day outside of my pregnancies and one, lone Lent since I was 20 years old. 

Would I need professional help absolutely crossed my mind. That prayer said in desperation and without reservation has carried me to the present day. I have been sober since that moment of submission by the graces poured on me that night.  

I also no longer have those medical issues. You could say, well yes, because you stopped the cause of the problem the problem went away and it did but what did not go away is the desire to have a drink.  To this day there are reasons I still want to drink every single day. After all, I’m Cajun, it’s sunny, I worked all day, there’s a game on, there are wings on the pit, people are aggravating me, we are at the beach, it’s 5:30 p.m., etc. It is a daily cross to bear. It is a daily cross that I have come to accept as a blessing that reminds me to call on him and his momma every day. 

It’s a cross I get to lift up for someone else when I smell crawfish boiling or when we are celebrating at a wedding. It’s a cross that reminds me that I was not always mentally present during the early formative years of my first three kids when my patience begins to run thin. It has shown me mercy and forgiveness and ways to show it to my children and everyone I meet. 

The weight of the urge still reminds me of how much my husband loved me as he stayed by my side and continues to love me.  It most of all reminds me that I am a child of God and I need my father more than I want an ice-cold beer. That low was a gift.  It seems to be the gift that keeps on giving because now it’s spring and I would love to cool off with something else besides Lime Perrier after I plant gladiolus but instead I will be grateful for my new decade, my family and my faith.  I would also like to promise to very intentionally offer up that craving for any of your struggles that y’all are too torn to let go of. 

The columnist is a Catholic mom living in the Diocese of Baton Rouge facing the same challenges all families face.