This post is about giving thanks. . . and, believe it or not, it is completely un-triggered by Thanksgiving today. Several weeks back, a dear woman read Ephesians 5:20. "always giving thanks to God the Father for everything, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ." She pointed out the little word "FOR." Anytime I've heard, read, or thought about this verse, it was with the little word "IN," not "for." This makes a big difference in the way I apply it to my life. . . I can easily say "Thank you Lord that you are with me IN this situation." That's not what the verse says. Yes, He is IN the situation, and for that I can and should thank Him. What about the situation itself? Can I be thankful FOR it?
As I started to practice this new idea, it was hesitantly and out of sheer obedience. "Thank you, Lord, that my husband is in the emergency room--because I can see you working in . . . etc, etc, etc." I realized I was taking the long way around and not TRULY being thankful for the situation--I was still putting God in human terms and thanking him for the benefits or learning someone would receive. I was still looking at myself, or at least still looking at the human aspect of the situation.
I continued to practice thanking God FOR each situation that presented itself, and I admit it stuck in my craw for awhile.
Thank you, Lord, that another puppy died.
Thank you, Lord, that my car is in the shop and will cost $800 to fix.
Thank you, Lord, that my dad still continues to suffer day after day.
WHAT????? Are you kidding me??? No, I'm not kidding. God has given me peace that passes understanding when I pray this way. Why? Because He has a plan. Everything that happens is part of His plan and is for the ultimate good of all who love Him.
And don't be surprised if you ask me how I'm doing and I say "From my point of view, not so great. But from God's perspective, I imagine everything is right on track."
Thursday, November 22, 2012
Sunday, September 23, 2012
Learning to live. . . differently.
Learning to live with a disorder. . . this has been our recent struggle. Finally, the disorder has a name, and we can learn to live with it. Before this, there have been only misunderstandings, frustration, tears, and failure.
A month ago, my eldest daughter was diagnosed with Tourette Syndrome. At first, it was a blow. No parent wants to find out that their child has an "issue." No child wants to be told, unequivocally, that she is and always will be different. It didn't take long, however, for the blow to give way to relief. We finally had a name. We finally could prepare a strategy. We could come up with a life plan and begin to understand our beautiful, unique, sweet, miraculous daughter.
My girl has, for years, suppressed tics. She thought they were stupid habits and would become frustrated with herself for being unable to stop doing them. She felt like a freak. I either wasn't paying attention or she was hiding it so well that I didn't realize what an issue the tics were. I am ashamed to say that I often chided her for her tendency to daydream and told her she needed to do this or that to overcome the 'habits' she was displaying from time to time. I didn't understand why she was instantly moved to weeping when something startled her or when outside stimuli overwhelmed her.
The moment she heard "Tourette Syndrome," she dove into internet research--hours worth. She made lists, found triggers, dietary changes, etc. She was so relieved to finally understand that she had a real and legitimate neurological disorder. Her overactive nerves were the cause of her constant frustration.
Larry and I became instantly supportive and for several weeks after diagnosis, she would get misty-eyed every time we discussed Tourettes or or ways to help her cope. She was so very happy to finally be understood--to finally understand herself. She has decided to embrace her uniqueness rather than hide it. This is who she is, and we can all love her or leave her.
I admire my girl so much. . . she has shown such strength of character and faith in her ever-present Savior, Jesus Christ. I am so proud of her. She is moving forward with her life. I won't candy coat it. . . this disorder has caused her much pain and some big sacrifices but she loves life and is able most days to rise above Tourettes and not be defined by it. She is able to laugh at herself and be laughed with. The Lord has something very special in mind for this girl. He has something special that only she can do and when He lets her know what that is, she will be ready and willing, with a spring in her step and unexplainable joy in her heart.
A month ago, my eldest daughter was diagnosed with Tourette Syndrome. At first, it was a blow. No parent wants to find out that their child has an "issue." No child wants to be told, unequivocally, that she is and always will be different. It didn't take long, however, for the blow to give way to relief. We finally had a name. We finally could prepare a strategy. We could come up with a life plan and begin to understand our beautiful, unique, sweet, miraculous daughter.
My girl has, for years, suppressed tics. She thought they were stupid habits and would become frustrated with herself for being unable to stop doing them. She felt like a freak. I either wasn't paying attention or she was hiding it so well that I didn't realize what an issue the tics were. I am ashamed to say that I often chided her for her tendency to daydream and told her she needed to do this or that to overcome the 'habits' she was displaying from time to time. I didn't understand why she was instantly moved to weeping when something startled her or when outside stimuli overwhelmed her.
The moment she heard "Tourette Syndrome," she dove into internet research--hours worth. She made lists, found triggers, dietary changes, etc. She was so relieved to finally understand that she had a real and legitimate neurological disorder. Her overactive nerves were the cause of her constant frustration.
Larry and I became instantly supportive and for several weeks after diagnosis, she would get misty-eyed every time we discussed Tourettes or or ways to help her cope. She was so very happy to finally be understood--to finally understand herself. She has decided to embrace her uniqueness rather than hide it. This is who she is, and we can all love her or leave her.
I admire my girl so much. . . she has shown such strength of character and faith in her ever-present Savior, Jesus Christ. I am so proud of her. She is moving forward with her life. I won't candy coat it. . . this disorder has caused her much pain and some big sacrifices but she loves life and is able most days to rise above Tourettes and not be defined by it. She is able to laugh at herself and be laughed with. The Lord has something very special in mind for this girl. He has something special that only she can do and when He lets her know what that is, she will be ready and willing, with a spring in her step and unexplainable joy in her heart.
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Entering the Harvest
I tend to be pretty hard on myself. I can find all kinds of things wrong with me. . . my weight, my height, my housekeeping, my ability (or inability) to do it all, my patience level--it goes on and on. Recently I am understanding what a profound effect that has had on my children. No, I'm not doing it again. . . I'm just seeing clearly that I have fed too much into the world's view of things. . . what I should be, who I should be, how I should look, what is acceptable. Seeing myself through my children's eyes has been really good for me. It's also broken my heart.
My children don't care if I am overweight. I am just the right height; they can't imagine me any different. They appreciate how handy it is that I can reach anything they can't. They have recently been encouraging me, though sometimes it stings, about how much I have changed over the recent year or two and how much they like it. The enemy runs away with my brain at that point and makes me wonder what kind of horrible person I must have been. . . then I am reminded that it's not that at all. God has been faithful to work in me, to soften me, to mold me, and I am better for it. It doesn't mean I was once an ogre, it just means that I am growing. That is a blessing.
I am understanding that it wounds them when I put myself down or criticize myself. . . they don't want their mama to hurt, and when I hurt myself, well. . . I am trying to do better. I'm trying to see myself as Christ sees me, which is really the only thing that truly matters. As I grow in wisdom, I will continue to change, to grow.
It has been so very encouraging to me to see how God has worked in my children--through me and, sometimes, in spite of me. Many days I am frustrated about how things are going here on the home front. Some days I feel that I teach and I teach and yet no one learns. That I really must be failing as a mother when I have to say the same thing over and over and over and over and over and. . .
And then something wonderful happens. I have a child come home from a friend's house and say "It was fun but their house isn't joyful like ours." That melts my heart. It brings me to tears and humbles me. I ask the Lord's forgiveness for my lack of faith. Another day, my child in the emergency room who has just had stitches and has sobbed much has the presence of mind to thank the doctor for helping her. She turns to thank her mama for insisting that she have the stitches--she can see now that it was best. Again, I am teary and thank Jesus for His unending faithfulness and for growing the seeds that I strive daily to plant.
I am in that very rewarding season where I can see the harvest ripening. I can see fruit in my children that for years I thought was dead on the vine. God proves himself faithful day after day after day. That's something in which I can rest. That's a shelter where I can take cover on the tough days.
Some of you know what I am talking about--you are in this season or beyond me by far. Some of you are young mamas with little ones all around your feet. . . wondering how you will ever make it. Crying along with them when they are all crying and you just can't listen anymore. Giving and giving and giving when you have nothing at all to give. Take heart, my Sisters. Your Heavenly Father is watching. He is walking before and behind and beside you. He is responsible for the harvest--you are not. Keep planting the seeds in their tiny hearts and wait. WAIT. Quietly, prayerfully. He is faithful. Reach out to an older Sister and cry for help, for prayer, for encouragement. That's what the Body is all about. . .
My children don't care if I am overweight. I am just the right height; they can't imagine me any different. They appreciate how handy it is that I can reach anything they can't. They have recently been encouraging me, though sometimes it stings, about how much I have changed over the recent year or two and how much they like it. The enemy runs away with my brain at that point and makes me wonder what kind of horrible person I must have been. . . then I am reminded that it's not that at all. God has been faithful to work in me, to soften me, to mold me, and I am better for it. It doesn't mean I was once an ogre, it just means that I am growing. That is a blessing.
I am understanding that it wounds them when I put myself down or criticize myself. . . they don't want their mama to hurt, and when I hurt myself, well. . . I am trying to do better. I'm trying to see myself as Christ sees me, which is really the only thing that truly matters. As I grow in wisdom, I will continue to change, to grow.
It has been so very encouraging to me to see how God has worked in my children--through me and, sometimes, in spite of me. Many days I am frustrated about how things are going here on the home front. Some days I feel that I teach and I teach and yet no one learns. That I really must be failing as a mother when I have to say the same thing over and over and over and over and over and. . .
And then something wonderful happens. I have a child come home from a friend's house and say "It was fun but their house isn't joyful like ours." That melts my heart. It brings me to tears and humbles me. I ask the Lord's forgiveness for my lack of faith. Another day, my child in the emergency room who has just had stitches and has sobbed much has the presence of mind to thank the doctor for helping her. She turns to thank her mama for insisting that she have the stitches--she can see now that it was best. Again, I am teary and thank Jesus for His unending faithfulness and for growing the seeds that I strive daily to plant.
I am in that very rewarding season where I can see the harvest ripening. I can see fruit in my children that for years I thought was dead on the vine. God proves himself faithful day after day after day. That's something in which I can rest. That's a shelter where I can take cover on the tough days.
Some of you know what I am talking about--you are in this season or beyond me by far. Some of you are young mamas with little ones all around your feet. . . wondering how you will ever make it. Crying along with them when they are all crying and you just can't listen anymore. Giving and giving and giving when you have nothing at all to give. Take heart, my Sisters. Your Heavenly Father is watching. He is walking before and behind and beside you. He is responsible for the harvest--you are not. Keep planting the seeds in their tiny hearts and wait. WAIT. Quietly, prayerfully. He is faithful. Reach out to an older Sister and cry for help, for prayer, for encouragement. That's what the Body is all about. . .
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