I was texting with a friend of mine the other day and we were touching base about a small faith group that she and I are involved in.  This friend is the leader of a small cache of women from all walks of life, who gathered together a few short years ago on a wing and a prayer.  “The Comeback Group” was for gals like us who had been through some stuff and were looking for a soft place to land and catch our breath.   

I recall our first times together — all of us so undone.  We blew in each week, hungry for camaraderie, eager for a word, a sip of solace and encouragement that God was still with us.  We were desperate in our faith, needing to believe that He could see us, hear us, know us.  Like a lighthouse, we buoyed each other every Thursday night at 7:00 PM. We brought our own brand of heartache, our stories, our testimonies of what was keeping us afloat in a sea of emotional wreckage.

We were all different.  We were all very much the same.

The thing about this conversation, was the oddity that maybe we didn’t need each other so much anymore.  We have all grown, all standing up a little straighter, all able to pick up our chins and belt out our own versions, like Annie, singing “Tomorrow.”  Not that we are all in brand new places. But we have progressed in our healing. We have survived.  We can see that life still holds something for us, and that our gaze need not be fixed to our rear view mirrors.

From family members with addiction issues, abandonment, narcissistic spouses who flew the coup, mourning of all kinds, our little group had experienced together a swath of life that is hard to describe.  

My point in sharing this, is that it was significant in realizing something fundamental about God — that He is always at work even when we feel we are standing still.  It happens so slowly, so incrementally.  We are so rooted in our discomfort and our circumstances, we have no way of noticing that behind the scenes, He is rearranging everything.  He brings onto our path blessings that seem coincidental, but never are.  Nothing is happenstance.

Before you know it, you understand that you are different.  It doesn’t mean all things are perfect.  But you are holding your own and working it out.  Your surviving is becoming thriving again, and you’re not entirely sure how to explain it.

Life really does go on.

It’s easy to question Him.  It’s easy to focus on the wreckage, to list the reasons why things are hard.  It takes a long while to find you are no longer waking up in the middle of the night to orient yourself, trying to make sense of how or why certain people make choices without conscience, or simply to calm the racing of your heart.  

But it happens.  You are standing and you can see the distance you have come.  You can recognize that some people you have loved and lost were not really who you believed they were.  You can understand that God had to let certain things happen so that you could be strengthened and readied and blessed by what is coming next.

There is always a next.  There is always a comeback.  Even when you think it’s an impossibility to move beyond where you’ve been, you will.  You are.

I am in awe of God and how He gives us to each other.  Sometimes the people you expect to be there for you are only place holders for the ones who come and really mean it.  These are people who walk their talk.  They embody honesty, empathy, truth.  They reflect Him in how they love you unconditionally and will tell you what you need, not what you want to hear. 

Maybe it is just one special friend, sister, or loved one.  Or maybe it’s a group.  Embrace them.  Honor them.  Believe that God has sent them onto your path for a reason.

You are not standing still.  You are in the middle of your comeback story.  It doesn’t matter where you are in life or what you have been through.  He’s always at work, rearranging things behind the scenes.  

It’s happening… 

Keep the faith. Be buoyed by those He has sent to remind you that He is with you and for you. Even if it is only me.  Even if it is only these words, heartfelt and overflowing with love. I get you. I understand.

You’re a part of a very special group of gals who have a story to tell, and oh what a story it is!  

We are standing with you. He is with you. 

Sing it, Annie. Just stick out your chin and grin…

The sun will come out tomorrow!