The Sunshine Saved Me

Originally published Apr 25, 2023

It was a particularly bad Tuesday, the start of a buzzing full week following many weeks of holidays and time off. A full moon, to boot, so the phones were ringing and the needs were coming in seemingly without a second thought. My dog had a scary incident that landed us in the emergency vet, leaving with little reassurance but not much of a diagnosis. As I sat typing, I looked at his sweet face leaned up against his favorite window, waiting to perk up at the next dog or UPS man that walks by. He has been tired, but still himself. My dog mom can’t bear the thought of losing him, not right now, he’s still a baby (to me, anyway).

I could have collapsed and threw in the towel to most of my regular responsibilities. I didn’t eat all day and the only reprieve I had from the drama at home was actually working, as tough as it was to focus on. I worked from home to keep an eye on him. Leaving for an afternoon meeting worried me sick.

The night before, the vet visit left me with little time to go home between work and volleyball practice. I opted for Panera over rushing home, I’d have to coach in my heeled work boots and tight slacks…oh well… it had been done before.

I did a podcast interview a few months back detailing my transition out of law practice and into my current job as a trust officer. It was more than I would normally share with my professional network, pretty vulnerable honestly. I am still happy with my change, but I know so many still stuck in the spirals I was back then. Something in me holds fear of backlash for sharing about that time. Part of it is protection of the people I left behind. I don’t blame them for the way things were or how or why it came to an end, saying goodbye to a group that was starting to feel like family.

I blame the system that is the practice of law. It is bigger than one person or one firm can take on – assuming the problems are identified in the first place and there is a desire to change them. After all, the practice can be pretty ludicrous, IF you bill enough, that is. What’s there to change?

Listening to myself talk was the last thing on my agenda. I had been itching to hear how bad it would sound, so I did it anyway. Listening in the middle of chaos was an odd dichotomy, but perhaps just what I needed. Anxiety ridden and falling apart, reminding myself of a time I was very much in the same place, but talking about it from a place where I wasn’t.

This too, shall pass.

I shouldn’t make rash decisions, like sharing my vulnerable story on LinkedIn, while in this state. I don’t. But I almost did, deleting the draft just before hitting “publish.” I came here instead, and this one likely won’t see the light of the interwebs, either, but that’s OK.

I promised myself I’d write, and here, I write.

The funny thing is: I didn’t believe it would pass just a few days, even hours, ago. It felt like a sentence. One more thing God allowed. Somehow, my mind knew of His goodness, but my body and heart did not let it sink in. Instead, I let anxiety take over. I didn’t eat and didn’t want to feel better. I told myself my body would never be fixed; my family, either. If He dared take my dog on top of not allowing kids? I would be ruined. I am not sure I would survive it, and I earnestly pray not to find out. I love my boy too much.

Between breakdowns, on hold with IT from my home “office” (the kitchen counter), I looked at my watch wondering if my favorite IT guy would relieve my computer soon enough for me to get to my meeting, while I stepped outside and hit “mute” to watch my dogs go to the bathroom. Close monitoring was the reason I was home, after all.

Two small steps outside and I was suddenly drenched in rays of warmth, hitting my exposed cheeks on this otherwise warm-for-winter day, mid 40s. Iowans call it: sweatshirt weather.

I embraced it, taking a minute to bask in the warmth, longer than I otherwise would have stayed. The warm rays seemed to tell me, “He is here, even if you’d rather push him away. There is something worth holding on for.” It was enough to get me through the day, and pull me back down to earth to remember that Jesus, too, was tested – the limits of his human hunger, being offered to be filled, crowned, and given all the splendor the devil could offer…all of which paled in comparison to the nourishment of the Father’s love, who would sustain Jesus through hunger, grief, isolation, and ultimate human suffering through death on a cross.

Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit in the wilderness, where for forty days he was tempted by the devil. He ate nothing at all during those days, and when they were over, he was famished. The devil said to him, “If you are the Son of God, command this stone to become a loaf of bread.” Jesus answered him, “It is written, ‘One does not live by bread alone.'” Then the devil led him up and showed him in an instant all the kingdoms of the world. And the devil said to him, “To you I will give their glory and all this authority; for it has been given over to me, and I give it to anyone I please. If you, then, will worship me, it will all be yours.” Jesus answered him, “It is written, ‘Worship the Lord your God, and serve only him.'” Then the devil took him to Jerusalem, and placed him on the pinnacle of the temple, saying to him, “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down from here, for it is written, ‘He will command his angels concerning you, to protect you,’ and ‘On their hands they will bear you up, so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.'” Jesus answered him, “It is said, ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.'” When the devil had finished every test, he departed from him until an opportune time. Luke 4:1-13

No coincidence that this was my reading this morning. Jesus responded simply with commands – God tells us to worship him alone, relying on His word over bread to sustain us. He didn’t say that God would give him more, better, or fulfill the things the devil had to offer – although God could have offered all of that and more to His Son. Jesus survived temptations by reminders of the commands of God. Sounds backwards? What about all the verses about how much more God cares for us? How we are His children, His creation? For Jesus, in this moment, much like the moment he let out his last words and breath before dying, obedience was foremost. Perhaps the flesh may have tried to tell him otherwise, but he knew better, surely, the devil did.

It comes as no surprise, then, that the flesh and the devil would come at followers of Christ in isolation, in the wilderness, much like the attacks on Jesus in his wilderness temptation.

If Jesus’s response was obedience to His Father, embracing the pain of the wilderness, hunger, and isolation, so shouldn’t that be mine, too? Deny the temptations of my flesh to say no, push away, and call it quits, succumbing to human vices over the Word of God. Jesus won the battle over flesh and devil in the wilderness where the Israelites could not. While it’s true that we are not Jesus, we know this:

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. 2 Corinthians 12:9

The thing is, even though Jesus used commands to combat the devil and fleshly desire, it was out of his love for God, not simply obedience for the sake of it, and his constant close connection to Him provided him the knowledge and the will to trust those commands over anything the devil offered. Although we may know that to be true in our minds, combating lies of the three major enemies of the soul is actual war. I love how John Mark Comer describes it in Live No Lies:

"And your soul, like mine, is locked in a war with lies.

And like the ancient Spartans who were born and bred to be soldiers, with no choice in the matter, we too have no choice but to fight. Please hear my tone: I’m not angry or anxious. I chose the medium of a book because it’s conducive to quiet, critical thinking. But make no mistake: I’m calling you, dear reader, to war.

…

What if exile could be good for us? William Faulkner, widely considered one of the greatest novelists, once said, ‘It’s hard believing, but disaster seems to be good for people.'

What if exile is something to fight but not fear?

What if instead of coming apart, we came together?

What if instead of losing our souls, we discovered them?"

Live No Lies, John Mark Comer

Remembering the commands of the Father, made out of love and honored out of love, sent the devil and his friends fleeing.

Proximity to the Father. Obedience to his commands, even against the flesh and the taunting of demons… The tools needed to fight this battle. Hanging on to sunshine when the storm threatens to pull me under – He is there. And that is all that I need.