Rachel

The shriek of young children and the murmur of adult conversation fills the neighborhood coffee shop; the hum, one moment urgent and the next a nowhere-to-go droan, surrounds Rachel and I in a reassuring clamor. The noise is important to me. Rachel has a way of talking about deeply personal things in a too-loud voice, and I am uncomfortable for both of us.

It has been years since we last spoke; this connection is long overdue. For the next hour she shares the news of her life, loves, and long suffering. Her delicate, feminine frame is unyielding in it's perfect posture. She is a tightly controlled woman, accustomed to restraining all emotion. Her speech is measured, precise. She is articulate to a fault.

Occasionally she gives way to all but imperceptible tears; hers is a difficult life. A lonely life. A complicated life.

And in the two years since our last conversation, little has changed in the subtly abusive relationship she endures with the man whom she loves. His words are quick and cruel; he doggedly reminds her of her failures, her weakness, her imperfections. She feels her place is to stand by her man.

Our time is up. We say our quiet goodbye's and I leave her at her door. On foot, I set a fierce pace for home, stewing intently on the things I have just heard. Is she safe? I wonder. Is it wise for her to stay? Better for her to just ditch the dude and move on with a new life for her and her bright, witty, troubled teen aged daughter? Where is God in her struggle? Is she a valiant woman? Is she a coward?

My intent in mulling these things over was not to judge my friend, but to assess us all...as women. I wrestle with our persistence in seeing our lives in unchanging and narrow ways. Some of us choose, relationally, to connect ourselves with people who bring us harm; feeling we have no recourse, we tolerate blatant abuses and sly rejections. Fearing isolation, the lack of companionship, and so many other complex and frightening demons, we cling to friendships and to loves that crush our souls and steal our personalities.

We stay in jobs that exhaust us. We consume substances that ensnare us. We feed our minds with things far from excellent. We pile on stresses, one atop another, until our health declines and our anger reaches a fever-pitch. All the while telling ourselves, "It just has to be this way. There is no other way."

As I continue my quick trek home, my thoughts turn inward. As I attack the problems of health and weight and personal baggage, a consideration skitters through my overloaded mind: A year ago, I didn't realize how out of shape I had allowed myself to become.

Two hundred pounds didn't just land on my small frame overnight. My muscles and respiratory system did not become overloaded in a matter of moments...or days...or weeks. My ill health and overweight came over time. It took years of dangerous and unhealthy choices for me to deteriorate to the point that I have.

For two years I have been battling my way to a healthier mind and body, and even today I have significant obstacles ahead of me.

I connect the dots between my weight struggle and Rachel's mindset. I apply the magnifying glass of my mental/physical choices to her emotional ones.

Mouthful by mouthful, I forced my body to carry almost one hundred pounds of un-needed weight. By refusing to address my body's need for movement and air (the couch is so wonderfully comfortable!) and by chanting the "I just can't do it!" mantra, I trapped my body in layers and layers of illness and fat.

Rachel has done the same thing. Her body is in stellar condition (she is a vegetarian and has always exercised religiously), but her soul, her spirit are being crushed beneath the weight of abuses suffered over many years.
Small abuses.
Repeated abuses.
Always-excused abuses.
Abuses that have added pound upon pound of unsupportable weight to her mind and heart.

But, like so many of us, she sits on her mental couch and says, "I can't break free of this. There is no other way." Or, worse yet, "If GOD wanted things to be different He'd do something about it."

She chooses the dangerous path of habit and sameness and "the devil she knows" over opportunity for health and safety. Over time, the weight she's piled on has begun to consume her and she cannot see the way out.

My coffee with Rachel sent me into a downward mental spiral (despair tells me, always, that people cannot, will not, dare not change); hopelessness threatened to snuff out faith.

But today an encounter with another woman ~~ a woman who continually moves forward in her relationships with God and others, a woman who routinely sheds extra baggage ~~ set me on a better course. A hope-filled course.

Talking of unrelated things she blithely said, "If people are seeking God, they will change. If they're seeking attention, they will not change."

Instantly the despairing thoughts of women being trapped (and unable to break free of their soul-killing relationships, addictions, resentments, and attitudes) were vanquished! What a simple blueprint for release, for freedom.

Childishly simple: go to the One who is able to help, and you'll get help.

I do not underestimate the depth of Rachel's suffering. I am not without deep compassion as I sit with her and hear her story. I will always listen to her tale. And I will always attempt to point her to the One who plans rescues and escape routes. If all she is seeking is my attention, then she'll get it. But if she is seeking change, hope, purpose, promise ~~ that must come from her God.

And He's ready for her. Any time. Any place. He's ready to rescue me. Any time. Any place. If I turn my eyes to Jesus, I'll see Him. I'll hear Him.
He's always speaking.
Always working.
And He has the power to change me.
He will set me free.
He will set you free.