Wednesday, January 16, 2013
How odd that life can be so difficult; as a Christian, shouldn't I be Joyful in all situations? Giddy with the Love of God? Well, I am not. I am tired. My bones ache with a weariness deeper than pain, a fatigue of the heart as well as the body. My desire is to rise up in the life I am called to live, sometimes the rising up is more difficult than others, today seems to be one of those times. I do not desire to be a martyr, don't want to be remembered as one who suffered for the cause. My desire is to live my life, my way, and have God say it was His Plan. But really, how do we know His Plan? How can I be sure I am suffering for His Glory and not my own? Oh yea, I said I did not want to suffer, or did I? The adulation one receives for doing a hard thing can be intoxicating. Praise and being told you are an inspiration to many can be addictive. It is not all that hard to humbly assure the praiser that really I am not all that worthy; I am just doing the job I have been given. And, I am, doing the job I have been given. Nights like tonight cause me to wonder, "Am I really supposed to be doing this job?" Do I hold on to it because it is the RIGHT THING or because I am too cowardly to stand up and say, "You know what? I should not be doing this." If this "calling" is hurting the rest of my family, my own mental and physical health, is it what God WANTS me to be doing? If it were a case of merely my suffering for the greater good of others that would be an easy question to answer, despite the challenge, I want to do hard things for my God. What I don't want is to keep doing a job that is meant for someone else. Am I willing to remove my hand to let God show His? Or, do I keep pressing in, waiting for His Hand to show me a better way to continue on? I do not want to be a coward, either by continuing on this path or by admitting I am weak and am walking in shoes not meant for my feet. How do I hear God?
I love my little boys, like I have loved all my sons. I want them to have the very best life possible. I am not convinced our home is that very best. I know it is not the best for my husband or my teenage son. I raised four sons to men basically on my own. I should be able to do it again with only two. If this truly were God, would it be so absolutely difficult every day of our lives. Would I not have trained the younger one by now that screaming I hate you and spitting at me is not a good thing? After four years surely I should have been a good enough parent that I could take one small child for milk and eggs and not have the store manager correct that child twice, only to have him run out of the store into a busy parking lot? What kind of parent/grandparent am I? Now, am I slobbering in self pity? Or, is this real frustration? And fear? I need counsel. The kind and supportive lady, one child's therapist, keeps looking me in the eyes and gently reassuring me that, I can do this. I do not need a cheerleader, don't get me wrong, I really like her and she is helpful. But, I do not believe she understands the depth of dysfunction that we walk in. I am not sure this rant is meant to be published. Certainly is not my usual ramble of humor and spiritual quips. Definitely not posting the link on Facebook. If any of my true followers, all two of you, have any input or thoughts I would love to hear from you. I do know I need to talk to a pastor. I know God has a Grand Plan, I know it like I know my name...(no smart comments) it is other folks whose names I forget. But every option open to us, and they are few, has real and major flaws. Please pray for me, for us. For my teen, my husband, and my precious little boys.
Friday, January 04, 2013
The above photo shows the brilliance of the morning sun as it shines through a frozen landscape. My prayer today is that the Light of the Lord will break into my cold tired heart and allow the beauty of the day, of my life, of my salvation to illuminate my path, warming my frozen ambition into activity and purpose; lifting me out of my comfortable lazy chair, taking up the mantle placed upon me with excitement and joy, knowing that my living even what I cannot see or sense will produce in myself and those around me a Holy Garden that will nourish and sustain.