Debating and Healing

I know He's telling me, Keep breathing.

I have so many questions about the future, so many fears and worries about the present, a lot of hurt from the past...in other words, what I feel is pretty average to mankind. And I feel so overwhelmed; it's like I want to ask God for answers, and at the same time I'm so afraid to know them. I'm so afraid that I will be the last person standing when it comes to my family, so afraid that I will be all that is left and that I will have no one to look forward to when this world is said and done. O Lord, please have mercy! You have no idea how I would plead with You for mercy for the people in my life...

This is hard for me to say, and please understand that I write this as a sort of therapy for myself.
Don't take my writing as a form of self-pity, but as a form of debating and healing. But when all is said and done, I will blame myself for their deaths. I know it. I feel the grief already. O Lord, I don't want to look back and think, "If only." O Lord, don't let me have any regrets when it comes to the people in my life. I want to think back and know that I gave it my all, that if anyone perished, then it must somehow have been Your will. But does not God desire that none should perish, but that all should be saved? Forgive me, Lord, if I do not understand Your ways.

Up to this point, I cannot say that I gave it my all. I cannot say that I have been a good witness of Your love and forgiveness. I am selfish, too often impatient, and ashamedly (and frequently) intimidated at the thought of preaching Your truths to the people I must face everyday. Please don't call me a failure at the finish line; I'm so scared You will...

One of the most powerful things the Lord ever revealed to me was about this very subject. Long story short: I was being counseled by a friend as I grieved and sobbed years ago about how so many people I loved were perishing. They spoke very quietly the entire time, they earnestly listened to everything I was saying, and as I sat in that chair with tears everywhere, that person leaned forward and said, "Kayla. You can't save them."

It was one of the biggest eye-openers of my life. It floored me. You can't save them.

It's not that I didn't know that Jesus Christ is the only way to eternal salvation, or that I was powerless to save beloved souls. It's that, somewhere under the lamenting and the grief, I had forgotten. I felt that my God-given mission in this world was to reach out to these people and tell them of their need for repentance and reconciliation, and if they refused to see that need, then I had failed. And I cannot lie here -- I still feel that way. Yes, healing took place, and I felt liberated at the truth that salvation must be determined by God and not myself. But today, when I see what a witness I am to those around me, I still grieve. I'm reminded of my own worst enemy.

He tells me, Keep breathing. If a long journey must begin with a single step, then Lord please help me to move. Help me to change. "We have no power against this great multitude that is coming against us, nor do we know what to do, but our eyes [are] upon You." (2 Chronicles 20:12 NKJV). Give me strength, please, for the future, and hold on to the ones I love.