goodness – I've Witnessed It.

The Turning Point.

Posted on February 24, 2025February 24, 2025 by imtaylorwalker

Have you ever read Lamentations? No, I don’t just mean 3:22-23. I mean in its entirety. Don’t get me wrong, those verses offer a wonderful reminder – His mercies are new every morning. Praise the Lord for that! But, what about the rest of the book?

To lament means “to express grief or sorrow; to mourn.” That’s exactly what the book of Lamentations is… grief, sorrow, and mourning. In fact, Lamentations 1:1-3:20 is utterly d-e-p-r-e-s-s-i-n-g. The author describes destruction, starvation, wickedness, and death… yikes. It’s not a book people often turn to when looking for joy-filled encouragement. But maybe we should. Because Lamentations offers something beautiful to believers. It offers a turning point.

Riley and I were not faithfully attending a church when Mom died. Since the beginning of our marriage, we were your typical “church-hoppers”. We never stayed at one church for too long. We had a bad habit of missing a handful of Sundays and were too embarrassed to go back. We didn’t want the guilt-trip of explaining where we’d been. The answer was never justifiable. So, instead of facing our faults, we just… hopped.

By the time we had Ellie, we pretty much gave up on going completely. I was a clingy, anxious, breastfeeding mom who refused to go near a church nursery. We did try a couple services with Ellie on my lap, but it was a trainwreck. No more than 5 minutes in, I’d be off to a bathroom stall trying to nurse her to sleep… which didn’t work. So up and down the halls I’d go, not catching a single word of the sermon. It was terrible. After that, we just avoided the church subject altogether. **Not-So-Fun Fact: One of the last things I ever got to say to Mom was a lie. She asked if we had made it to church that morning. I was too embarrassed to admit we hadn’t been going, so I lied. Sorry about that, Mama. Guess you know now.**

It was an awful feeling, really. Because we knew better. We were both saved at a young age. We had grown up in good churches. Basically all of our family faithfully attended. But we had fallen into the dangerous trap of complacency. We had convinced ourselves that if we just cut the Sunday livestream on in the background, we could check off our “church box” and carry on with life. Boy, were we wrong.

Fast-forward to Mom’s funeral. Dr. Corts said something during the sermon that hit me like a ton of bricks.

She was strikingly grateful and thankful for the salvation He had won for her on the cross. She was saved from her sin and given a new life. But what was so distinctive about her was that she NEVER got over it. It was almost as if she couldn’t believe it. Which I think is always a sign of a genuine follower of Jesus.

There it was… The truth I had so desperately been hiding from. I had lost my gratitude. I had overlooked His sacrifice. I had gotten over Jesus. What was I doing?

Back to Lamentations for a minute. In the first two and a half chapters, we see how God’s people are paying the price for their sin. The author outlines the absolute state of darkness they were facing. But then, there’s a turning point. Lamentations 3:19-24 says,

Remember my affliction and my wanderings, the wormwood and the gall! My soul continually remembers it and is bowed down within me. But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. The Lord is my portion, says my soul, therefore I will hope in him.

In those few verses, everything changes. The trajectory shifts. Darkness is met with light… with HOPE.

The wreck was our turning point. It’s when our life of darkness turned to a life of hope. When Mom died, heaven became overwhelmingly real. I don’t know if anyone can relate, but heaven kind of felt more like a fantasy before. It’s not that I thought it was fake. I guess I just struggled to fully understand the reality of it. But once I knew Mom had entered those pearly gates, everything changed. It’s as if I could see her worshipping at the feet of Jesus. I could hear her singing “Holy! Holy! Holy! To the Lord God Almighty!” I could envision her whole and perfect and pain-free, no longer burdened by this world.

This realization brought us running back to the place we should have been all along… We had missed out on YEARS of spiritual growth and opportunity to serve. There was no more time to waste. I’m not saying church will save you. I’m just saying it’s where you’ll want to be if you are.

Church is prickly. It steps on your toes. It holds you accountable. A lot of people don’t like that. I sure didn’t for all of those years. But, let me offer you the piece of the puzzle I was missing… Church restores my HOPE. It puts God’s goodness on full display. It offers growth. It reminds us why life matters and what we must do with the time we’ve been given.

Maybe you’ve drifted. Maybe you’re running from the truth. Maybe you’ve become complacent and do just enough to check a box. It’s time to face the truth. Let this be your turning point.

Find a church. Call it home. Show up faithfully. Serve your community. Be a light. And never get over Jesus.

prayer

When I Couldn’t Pray.

Posted on February 18, 2025 by imtaylorwalker

From the moment I received the call, I couldn’t calm my thoughts. It was like a broken record playing in my mind. I was constantly in a state of trying to convince myself this wasn’t real… she couldn’t be dead. I’d tell myself, “She’s just on a vacation on some tropical island with no internet or cell service. She’ll be back soon.”

That sounds delusional as I type it out. But I think I needed the delusion at the time. I needed to not face the facts. I was trying to keep my baby alive, and the truth was just too much weight to bear. Any time I let reality set in, I was met with sheer, uncontrollable panic. But as long as I lied to myself, I could keep going.

Being in denial is A LOT of work. Especially when you’re surrounded by constant reminders that your mom is, in fact, dead. My mind was working overtime to keep the lie up. It was almost impossible to focus on anything else… including prayer.

It’s not that I didn’t want to pray. I desperately wanted to. I wanted to beg God for answers. I wanted to ask Him for help. I needed to talk to the One who could heal this hurt. But I couldn’t. Any time I would try to pray, my mind was pulled in 50 different directions. I wasn’t able to get out more than a couple sentences before I was swamped with thoughts like, “You can’t think about this, Taylor. You can’t have a panic attack right now. You can’t burden your baby’s health with this grief. Just forget about it for now.” So, I stopped trying.

It wasn’t out of anger toward God. Because honestly, at the time, God was the only one I wasn’t mad at. I knew that He was the reason I would get to see my mom again one day. He was my glimpse of hope. I couldn’t be angry at Him.

I don’t think I realized it at the time. But I know now that I stopped trying to pray out of fear. Fear that prayer would ruin my delusions. Fear that prayer would make me aware of my new normal. Fear that prayer would hurt more than it would heal. I felt so guilty for not praying, especially at a time when I needed to cling tighter to God than ever before. But I was so stuck in fear.

The only way I could really communicate with God was through music. I would hear songs at church or on the radio, and I’d think to myself, “THAT’S what I want to say to God.” And a lightbulb finally switched on in my mind. I closed my eyes and said, “God, please accept my songs as prayers to You until I can get my thoughts together.”

And that’s what I did for about the first six months of my grief.

I would whisper an “Amen” at the end of any song I felt drawn to. When I found ones that pulled heavy on my heart, I’d listen to them on a loop and say, “Lord, this is my cry to you.” Some of my most played songs were Same God, Goodness of God, Hymn of Heaven, and My God is Still the Same (Go ahead and save those to your playlist – you can thank me later).

I’m not saying I took the best approach. It was messy. But I really believe the Lord offers us so much grace in our grief. Scripture is filled with verses about weeping and mourning and sorrow. Look at just about any chapter in the book of Psalms, and you will see those emotions displayed in great detail. The most captivating part about these recurring Scriptural themes is that God’s promise to listen and comfort always follows. And in that promise, I find peace.

If you’ve found yourself in a season where it seems hard to get your prayers out, I hope you’ll give yourself permission to try different ways to communicate with God. Romans 8:26 says,

The Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans.

Maybe you can communicate through songs of worship. Once again, the Psalms are a great point of reference, as the authors often tell us to sing to the Lord. We are told to use our voices to make a joyful noise and lift up praise to Him. This repeated command gives me complete confidence that the Lord hears the songs we cry out, and He knows the posture of our hearts.

Or maybe you can communicate through journaling. Many, including myself, have found it’s easier to stay “on track” with a prayer when you’re forced to put a pen to paper. It can allow time to pause when your mind may wander. When you’ve collected yourself, simply pick up where you left off.

Journaling prayers also gives a physical way to chart your “progress” with grief. Don’t mishear me – you’ll never get over your loss. However, I know there were days I convinced myself I would never be able to feel happiness again. But through journaling those intense prayers of pain, I have been able to look back and see firsthand that my joy and happiness was not forever lost like I’d thought. And that’s given me so much hope for the days and years ahead.

When you’re in the thick of grief, I think it’s easy to feel like you’re doing everything wrong. The way you grieve, the way you parent, the way you work, the way you pray…

Unfortunately, grieving doesn’t come with a “one size fits all” survival guide. We’re going to get a lot of things wrong in this season, but there’s one thing we can always get right – opening our hearts up to communication with God. He doesn’t expect it to be perfect. He just expects us to do it… in whatever way we can.

welcome

Meaning Behind The Name

Posted on February 16, 2025February 16, 2025 by imtaylorwalker

When I was thinking of a name for this blog, the song “I’ve Witnessed It” by Passion & Melodie Malone immediately came to mind. Haven’t heard it? Let me do the honors… (And YES, the live version is worth the 7 minute listen)

I was about a year into my grief journey when I heard this song for the first time. In fact, I had just miscarried my sweet baby Parker. I was experiencing what felt like one loss after the other. Good things would happen, but all I could feel and see and remember was the bad. But when I heard these words, it was as if I could feel God starting to break the barriers I had built around my soul.

When I was lost and all alone,
Your presence was where I found home.
You were there, and You’re here right now.

In every high and every low,
You never left me without hope.
You were good, and You’re good right now.

God, even in my consuming pain, You are GOOD. God, even in my weakness, You are STRONG. God, even in my unsteady faith, You are CONSTANT. God, even in my anger, You LOVE. God, even in my brokenness, You HEAL. God, even in my sin, You SAVE.

How can I believe these words? How can I sing them with joy in my heart when so much of what I love has been taken away from me? It’s simple, really… I’ve witnessed it. Time and time again. On my highest mountain and in my lowest valley, I’ve witnessed the goodness of God. And I’m confident that I’ll see it again and again.