Part 1- Faithful God

I had experienced a round of warfare that had me on my face, on the phone, in offices, in the Word and NOT finding Him.

I couldn’t find Him.

I had a journal. It had black pages. Pens of different bright colors marked my desperate pleas on the paper.

He gave me a verse to scratch out on that black paper:

 2 Timothy 2:13 “If we are faithless, he remains faithful, for he cannot disown himself.”

The black paper seemed appropriate for this black night of my soul. Blackness I couldn’t fix and He wouldn’t.

I woke up with fear gripping me. I tried to be normal and went for jogs, to work, to school. One jog I remember clearly and sadness grips me every time I pass that side of town. I couldn’t run any further. Even though I had just begun- I was maybe a quarter of a mile down the road when I bent down and cried. Then I cried some more. It was an ugly bent over sob. And all the reasons sounded crazy. No one had died. No life threatening illness. No natural disaster had leveled my home. No trauma.

I’d been sober for close to four years. But there I was in so much inexplicable pain- And worst of all is I couldn’t find our safe place. The place where I could go to Him and there He was. I opened the Word and felt confused. My mind raced and I couldn’t seem to get a handle on it.

No trauma except a ship wrecked, broken past… and a twenty-two year old girl in the present thinking a magic wand would be nice just about now. Could I cry enough, pray enough, which verse did I need? What had I done wrong? Deliver me!

2 Timothy 2:13 “If we are faithless, he remains faithful, for he cannot disown himself.”

And I cried and I cried. I prayed. I prayed. I could not hear. This went on and on.

And I started to affirm that He didn’t love me- reasoning with myself.

I got up off my knees.

And I began to play that same ol’ game he’d saved me from: pretend.

When He had saved me…

I would lay at night in awe of the Maker of those stars that I could look up at and know that He loved me, formed me, and saved me. That in the ugliest revealing of my sin on display, in that very season of my life, is where He chose to save me.

And He didn’t save me from the difficulties or the consequences of it.

Instead, He allowed me the dignity to walk through it- owning up to it, but because of Him- I could hold my head up… and for this girl that meant the world!

His glory was on display, and I would weep and sing songs of His grace to Him and it was my voice I heard with my ears, but His I heard over me ministering to me- singing a song together- One only He and I could sing.

And in this black night of my soul… I got up off my knees. I felt like He had abandoned me.

I chose to believe the lie that He didn’t love me instead of going back to the place of clinging to that cross… needing Him for every right thought, every right feeling, every right desire. I chose to reject His sovereignty over the dark.


I heard a pastor say, “There’s some prosperity gospel in all of us”. And isn’t it true?  None of us can walk these dusty roads without equating prosperity and pretty pictures with godliness.

I got up to play pretend- believing He was only God of the day and not the God of the night- and spiraled further into doubt and fear.

I had never experienced this torment, this darkness, not in sobriety – where no solution seemed to help.

And I gave up, but not on the outside. Relapse scared me too much. There was NO painting my past pretty, no way.  I couldn’t even try. And this church culture would feed my fakery just fine. This sit in rows, and keep it in.  I had taken every rejection concerning my vulnerability in the church house to heart and didn’t seem to fit anywhere. Rehab was over and you can’t just go back because you can’t handle life, but you haven’t relapsed! Plus places change and that season was over. Now this seeming to not fit with Christ was too much. I was desperately immature, insecure, and needy.

But I wasn’t totally given over to my doubt yet- when I failed miserably and I did blatantly sin against my Lord, I knew if I wasn’t honest, I might spiral into relapse even if I didn’t want to.  I knew God had clear boundaries and I had violated them. I was scared and I wanted help. I knew I needed the body. And guess what- I confessed to two pastors and not one fought for me. Not one. I was brushed off- my sin excused, downplayed, brushed under a rug… and the lies in my head seemed to be confirmed. I want you to hear that- brushing off the sin of others will confirm the lies of the enemy.

The Word is clear- the royal priesthood has authority over all the ways of darkness because we have a head named Christ- He can command. He is wisdom.

Girl, boy, man, or woman- don’t believe the lie that if man will not fight for you, then God must approve and His will is your defeat- that your destiny is muck and mire. That your dreams of wholeness were a joke.

I’d seemed to have lost all ground. I couldn’t grasp the lessons I had learned so clearly in that rehab where I’d spent 10 months.

And Dear Reader, I want you to know I am not mad at “the church”. I am part of the body. But I  no longer allow a “church culture” to dictate my faith. I no longer settle for a sit in rows, performance mentality or allow people to lead me that won’t fight for or with me when the rubber meets the road. I will fight. I will stay on my knees, and I know the Lord is willing that I do- fighting the good fight of faith for ANY I come in contact with. I stopped allowing man to define my walk with Christ or seal lies of the enemy over me because the pretending was overwhelmingly painful and contradicted my hungry, sealed spirit.

I am trusting Him and Him alone for right thoughts, feelings, and desires.

And do you know… I threw that black journal away where I’d etched these words:

2 Timothy 2:13 “If we are faithless, he remains faithful, for he cannot disown himself.”

I hated that black night of my soul and all my unfaithfulness and the torment of it. I couldn’t make a bit of sense out of it. I wanted to erase it. It can’t be erased…

I don’t blame anyone for MY unfaithfulness, cause in every sin personal responsibility precedes repentance.

I did repent. And He met me there and confirmed my salvation and showed me His faithful hand over that season of my life despite my inability to settle down in His love on my own.

And I repented this morning, and this evening… proclaiming with my mouth- “You alone are faithful! You Jesus are my All! Without YOU Jesus I am toast. And if I add anything to you, I have nothing… but If I add nothing to YOU, then I HAVE EVERYTHING! Settle me down in your love, Jesus”.  And this is what He etched on my soul in that dark. It was not a wasted time. He was and is faithful, for He cannot disown Himself and He is mine and I am His.

Beloved Reader, Bless you with JESUS.

Bless you with knowing the simplicity of Jesus being your All.

Bless you with wisdom to reject all the lies of the enemy- with never again pretending in place of putting your faith in Him, with knowing His faithfulness will complete the work He began in you. Bless you with admitting that “In your struggle against sin, you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood”. (Hebrews 12:4)
And bless you with the only ONE that could shed blood and pay your debt and mine.  Oh, reader, believer, arise and meet your Maker afresh and fight the good fight of faith!

Because the lost are hungry for the real deal… and you, believer, have been given the ministry of reconciliation – of restoration.

To the Kingdom and to the Restoration!

Diana Corman

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