Sarah Nyhan

A continuation of my attempt to finish a book I started in December 2017. Posting chapters in an attempt to organize it all and finish.

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Could I have walked away? Did I have any say in the matters? Or was and is this a predetermined path?

For what, Lord? What is the point in all of this? Is there some test I have to pass? Is there some lesson? Or healing that you are doing in me? Or others? If I could just figure out what meaning there is. Then I’d have hope again. Then I’d be motivated.

People say to just pull up your bootstraps. Or don’t make it so complicated. I’m afraid that maybe sometimes I’ve been so heavenly-minded that I’ve been no earthly good. Right now I just feel lost. Spinning my wheels. Digging further and further in. Defeated.

And yet every time, every single time I feel like I want to give up, You and only You will give me some undeniable hug in various forms that will keep me going a little more. Until the next time.

But I am so tired of this life, Lord. This life of me trying to move forward, over and over again, and feeling like You have me on a leash, always blocking my path. Because I was raised a certain way. I know the things to do. I try to do them. But it never seems to work out.

If I don’t compare myself to others then I also love this life of adventure You’ve given me. If that is what it is versus just a series of repeated massive failures. If You’re okay with me then I’m good. No matter what anyone else thinks. Even if I despise the shame.

And I am nearly drowning in the condemnation of others, but I feel so Loved by You, God. Over and over in so many ways. And yet the big things, at least the big things to me, You seem to be very silent on. I’m choosing to take that as You are not worried so I don’t need to worry either.

They tell me I’m wrong. They tell me I’m abandoned. That is the great temptation. To curse You and walk away. But even then I know Your Love would find me. So I stay. Try to stay.

It isn’t the end of the story yet. There is still time. And You are still God. The same God who did all those miracles before in my life and others. Who hasn’t retired. Hasn’t stepped down. And isn’t asleep on the job – unless there is plenty of time for rest.

Help me see, Lord. Please help my unbelief. Not because there is anything wrong with living a “regular” life. But because You are God. And You can do anything. Anything anything.

The world is hurting right now. And if we are made in Your image then I believe You share in our grief.

But You told us, God, that You are the Father that scans the horizon for the return of Your children. You celebrate relationship with us even at our most broken.

So I pray for massive global revival. Even the biggest yet. Because I’m convinced our prayers are not nearly big enough in the Light of how much You Love us.

I want to be a part of whatever You are doing, Trinity. I want my whole mountain. All that there is. I don’t want to live in fear. I want to roll out of here like the last demolition derby car – not having left anything on the table.

Brené Brown talks about how we can’t dress-rehearse tragedy. The pains of life are going to come and they are going to be painful no matter what. I can certainly attest to that. My only regrets are that I didn’t live and love more. That I siloed in unsuccessful attempts to try to protect myself from the inevitable. Instead of using all that time to open my heart even more. I think that would have helped keep my cup, my tank full. I think that would have helped me feel like every hit wouldn’t be the last, that I couldn’t take anymore.

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One time I worked as a Yellow Cab taxi driver in San Antonio. Many years ago. And it was a holiday. I accepted a call to pick up an elderly woman from her house inside the Loop, just a little north of downtown.

Initially I was really irritated because she was being quite neurotic. But I have repeatedly learned that there is always something more behind such behaviors. And usually people are so constipated with unprocessed emotional, mental, and spiritual baggage that they will unload suprisingly fast when given the slightest welcome to do so.

And I’m happy to listen. If there is one thing I know, it is pain. And I’m only hear even as I am because people opened their hearts and listened to me, let me talk. And as such, I am usually more than happy to return the favor whenever I’m able.

So I was thankfully, by the grace of God and Spirit’s ever-present whispers of encouragement, I set aside my ego and didn’t respond to this elderly women the way she probably “deserved” – for lack of a better word. That set the stage for the floodgates to open once I then asked even just one or two questions.

She told me a story that has stuck with me and come to mind so many times since. Fair-warning that the ending isn’t yet the tied-up, pretty, appealing one you’ll get from Disney. But if you’ll brave it, the message could be a great gift.

It started with her telling me that she married very late. Very well even as a senior. She said he was the love of her life and vice versa. But she was sick and they spent a lot of time at the hospital. Right there together, side by side.

Well, one year around the holidays she had an emergency at the house and her husband called the authorities. An ambulance was sent and the EMTs rushed her to the hospital. While she was being worked on, someone told her husband that she had a heart attack. He took this to mean that she was gone. And while she was still being worked on, the thought of losing her hit him so hard that he… flat-lined. Permanently.

There she was, awake after her physical crisis. Wanting of course to see him. And then had to take in the news. I have no doubt it hit her so hard that she was never the same woman.

But, and she said this slowly, emphatically, deliberately – she would do it all over again even knowing the outcome. She said the time with her husband was by far the best ten years of her entire life. And worth all the rest. There was no doubt that even in her pain she felt it was much better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.

I took that to heart. For a long time. I didn’t want fear to rob me so I said yes to a lot. And there were so many good starts. But it wears on you after awhile when it seems like you can’t get any traction on these dreams that appear to cruelly taunt you.

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Another time in the taxi comes to mind. A different woman. Back before the apps. When you could just call for a taxi from even a payphone. Without funds to back it up. And that’s what she did. I arrived and she told me she didn’t have any money. Talk about irritated! Not only did you waste my time, but also my gas money. And now you are even asking for more!?

But I’d been in this rodeo before. Things that don’t make so much sense. The only way to stay sane is to cry out to God. Because above all, I experienced enough of these divine appointments that I couldn’t deny He was my true dispatcher.

Again, the supernatural peace of God flooded me and took over all the ways my ego would have been very tempted to respond. I paused, probably sighed, and then embraced jumping into the idea that Spirit brought to mind.

She sounded incredibly desperate and despondent. I can’t remember exactly why. But some part of me was afraid she was suicidal. And yet I knew I couldn’t coddle her; for my sanity as well as her own. So I told her that I would give her a free ride IF she spent the entire trip telling me things she was thankful for. She probably didn’t think I was serious, so she flippantly agreed and got into the car. Before I pulled away, I reiterated again that the ride would end if she stopped telling me things she was thankful for. She agreed but basically blew me off.

So we started driving. And she was dejectedly doing the typical first things that come to mind: “I’m thankful for my daughter. I’m thankful for food to eat. I’m thankful for…”. As I drove and listened. Not even responding.

It wasn’t a short trip. At least ten minutes. So about the halfway mark she stops and says, “That’s it. That’s all I can think of.”

“Are you sure? That’s all you can think of?”, I responded.

Like a child, this woman basically sat back and folded her arms across her chest and in a pouty voice said something to the effect of, “Yes, that’s it. That’s all I have to be thankful for.”

I’m sure she had a hard life. Homeless at this age. Obviously a lot on her mind and surely her heart. But I couldn’t leave her there in that state. I had to at least try. So I took a risk and called her bluff: “Ok, well I told you that I’d give you a ride as long as you told me things you were thankful for. So since you don’t have anything else, I’ll take this exit and drop you off.” And I started merging off 1-10 towards the exit ramp.

“No, no, no, no, no! I can think of some more!” 😊 And she quickly started up again until the end of the trip.

I dropped her off. Wishing her the best. Saying a prayer this time internally for her. That God would encourage her. That she wouldn’t give up.

And that’s usually how the story ends. Me sometimes thinking of them again. Wondering. But this time was different.

Many at least weeks if not months went by. It was my birthday. And I believe it was Julie who made me my favorite cupcakes: strawberry cake with strawberry icing and rainbow sprinkles. Super delicious, but I couldn’t and shouldn’t eat them all. So I took the cupcakes with me as I drove the taxi. And whenever I encountered a customer that was exceptionally pleasant, I’d offer them a cupcake.

So there I am riding around downtown. Near the Riverwalk, in the hustle and bustle of a bazillion tourists in the darkness of night. But it was a cool one so I had the windows down as I creeped along in almost standstill traffic.

When out of a cagillion people, I hear a lady on the sidewalk say loudly and excitedly to someone else, “That’s her! That’s the one I was telling you about!”

I look over and this woman is coming up to my car in traffic. With her friend to show me. Introducing us.

The same woman I had given the free ride to. The one I was worried was suicidal. The one I had tell me all she was thankful for. Now alive and well. Looking so much better and in her right mind that I wouldn’t have noticed it was the same person unless she had said so.

Just one of many serendipitous moments of my life. Me in stand-still traffic, talking to this woman who I had such an opportunity to impact. Even if just for that one night I gave her that “free” ride. Us sharing my birthday cupcakes together as I waited for the light.

This is what I am talking about. Why I can’t give up even if I wanted to. And I have wanted to.

Because just when I think it’s a normal day with nothing happening, so many times it seems like God completely surprises me. Out of the blue.

That’s what keeps me from making the call.