Today I’d like you all to meet Angela Nazworth of Becoming Me! Angela is the mother of a four-year-spunky little girl and an 11-month-old boy. She and her husband Napp, a professor of political science, have been married for 8 ½ years and reside in South Carolina. A former award-winning public relations professional, Angela uses her writing as a ministry. In her new blog, Becoming Me, she shares personal stories and insights about God’s working in her life.
Bad news. As far as I’m concerned it comes in three categories. Minor. Such news is easily remedied like discovering Pumpkindoodle’s latest chalk masterpiece drawn on the backdoor, or learning that my favorite T.V. show has been canceled (unless the show is Lost because that nugget of bad news would befit the next category). Major. Bad news of the major variety invokes temporary calamity and requires an exhaustive solution. Breaking an arm or discovering a rat colony in the basement fall under major. Cataclysmic. This is the doozy of all pandemonium inductive bad news with rippling consequences. Losing a job or learning that a loved one acquired a life-limiting illness crash into the realm of cataclysmic.
A few weeks ago, the Professor came home with bad news…in the post Columbine, 9/11, Katrina world in which we live in the news fell under a category two. In my selfish small familial worldview the news hit level three. His contract will not be renewed; another move, our ninth in nine years, eminent. As I grappled with a decision made by a magisterial administrator, I recognized a familiar ache. A foggy feeling that I have known but its identity escaped recognition.
Sadness weighted my heart as if the blood were drained and replaced with sand, sinking the vital organ low enough to burden my lungs. My breathing labored, my stomach churned, and with my head pressed against my palms, and fingernails firmly massaging my scalp I sobbed. Suddenly, the dust bunnies that cluttered my mind were swept away and that heavy feeling categorized. It was a shattered dream, an unmet expectation, a love unrequited. In short… a broken heart.
When the Professor and I moved to South Carolina last August hope abounded. Leaving our friends in Texas sliced to the marrow, but we believed that this move was a permanent one. The position … tenure track; the university … staffed with Christians; the odds … in our favor. Less than a year after we dug a hole, fertilized the soil with hard work and prayer, and planted our roots, we learned that those roots were to be exhumed once more. A promise was betrayed, trust severed, hope stunted. Ah yes, a broken heart indeed.
Once I understood the nature of the hurt, the mending began. Collapsing on my knees, face down, hands held upward, and with tears and raw emotion flowing I prayed. “Lord, I hurt. I hurt for my husband, I hurt for my family. I hurt. Thank you for being with me now and always Lord. Thank you for letting me come undone in your presence. Father, heal my heart. Do not let bitterness live here, do not let an unforgiving spirit dwell within me. You can make this good. You will make this good Lord. To that truth I cling.”
The healing process may vary from person to person, but the first step should always be the same…present the wound to the Father. When I hold up my bruised soul and invite His holy lips to kiss the boo-boo, healing surges; and the only one who can prevent this wonderment from prevailing is me.
The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.
~ Written by Angela Nazworth of Becoming Me
A note from Angela about her blog:
Each person accumulates stories from life experiences. Some stories tell of blistering, bitter, frightening seasons when emotional fires, droughts, or floods brought devastation to a heart. Other stories derive from adrenaline enhancing joy and blissful happiness from seasons decorated with wonderment and adventure. And then there are stories that may not carry emotion but still garner enough weight to impact life. The creator of the universe is both the author of and lead character in my life story. With every experience I learn more about who I am in Christ…more about becoming me…the mature me God designed to be completed in Heaven.
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This column is Hosted by Shera. She can be found at A Frog In My Soup