i will begin with a confession. for the past few months, i have been in a spiritual funk. my bible hasn't been open with much regularity. my mind hasn't been dwelling on Christ and my attitude has been pretty poor. i've been tired, frustrated, and sometimes angry. i've sort of been blaming it on the hormonal adjustment that comes when the body completes nursing a little one. but regardless of the reason, that's been my mental state as of late.
hearing about my mom, while in this state, with such distance in my heart from God, has been difficult. i've had a hard time running to His feet with my thoughts, my petitions and letting Him be my comforter and source of strength.
a side story:
from the first day i can recall until the last day i lived in my mother's home, we had family devotions. as a family, right before dinner, we would read the bible passage and daily reading found in our daily bread. afterwards, we would pray together. we would each pick a topic of prayer and then take turns praying out loud. this happened every day, regardless of the circumstances. it happened if we had friends over, it happened if someone was sick, and interruptions weren't really allowed. the phone could ring, someone could knock at the door... it didn't matter. my mother decided early on that it was a priority and that this time together was sacred. it happened everyday from my infancy until i left for college.
yesterday, as i was walking out of church, i glimpsed a stack of our daily bread out of the corner of my eye. i grabbed one, thinking that it would be a good activity for she and i to do together each day when i get to the hospital. i tucked it into my purse and went on my way.
now back to the first story i was telling:
last night i woke up in the middle of the night unable to sleep. i wanted to pray, but since thursday, my prayers have been hard. i need a miracle right now. God, fortunately, still performs them. and yet, i am aware that for the past few weeks, i have been pushing God away to the fringe. i talk to Him, sure, but it just hasn't been the same. i have been wrestling with the hypocrisy that i feel- pushing God away and then suddenly calling on Him because i really need Him. i never wanted my relationship with God to get to that point. i long to be faithful, to be worshipful in everything, to be close to Him no matter what the circumstances may be. He is too magnificent to be reduced to my "santa in the sky" that i call on only in crisis and only when i want something from Him.
but my heart really wanted to pray. and so in the dark of my room, i prayed. the word pray sounds reverent- what i did, was a little less than that. i cried out and let God know just where i was. that i am frustrated, confused, and lonely. that i've been wondering where He has been these past few weeks and that i don't like the compartment in which i have placed Him.
and you know what, as i prayed, as i cried out to my sweet Jesus, it became abundantly clear. He has been there all along. and do you know what else, i felt this sweep of compassion cover me. it was clear to me that God can handle all of the emotions that i am feeling. He's big enough to shoulder my frustration, He's loving enough to understand my pain, and He is full of forgiveness big enough to cover the distance i have placed in our relationship. He doesn't hold grudges and He reaches out in that instant, the one where we turn to face Him, and he embraces us.
this morning, like every morning since the accident, i called my sisters to get the morning report. today's news just didn't sound good. the doctors had decided that she wasn't strong enough to endure the surgery needed to place the pins in her broken hand. her confusion has increased a bit and she is more unsure about where she is or the reality of the moment. she is also experiencing a lot of discomfort. since she is already limited by her physical handicap that resulted from the aneurysm, there are fewer positions that she can be in. her legs are cramping up, her hips are sore, and she is overall uncomfortable.
after talking to my sisters, i put delaney in her chair for some breakfast. ellie was still asleep and it was just the two of us sitting in the silence while she ate. i couldn't stop thinking about the copy of our daily bread in my purse. i went and pulled it out and opened up my bible, asking God for Him to speak to me. i just needed something to hold onto. i started to read the excerpt for december 1st and then remembered i was supposed to read the scripture passage first. i flipped in my bible to the passage for today:
2 corinthians 4:7-18
"if you only look at us, you might well miss the brightness. we carry this precious message around in the unadorned clay pots of our ordinary lives. that's to prevent anyone from confusing God's incomparable power with us. as it is, there's not much chance of that. you know for yourselves that we're not much to look at. we've been surrounded and battered by troubles, but we're not demoralized; we're not sure what to do, but we know that God knows what to do; we've been spiritually terrorized, but God hasn't left our side; we've been thrown down, but we haven't broken. what they did to Jesus, they do to us- trial and torture, mockery and murder; what Jesus did among them, he does in us- he lives! our lives are at constant risk for Jesus' sake, which makes Jesus' life all the more evident in us. while we're going through the worst, you're getting in on the best! we're not keeping this quiet, not on your life. just like the psalmist who wrote, "i believed it, so i said it," we say what we believe. and what we believe is that the One who raised up the Master Jesus will just as certainly raise us up with you, alive. every detail works to your advantage and to God's glory; more and more grace, more and more people, more and more praise! so we're not giving up. how could we! even though on the outside it often looks like things are falling apart on us, on the inside, where God is making new life, not a day goes by without his unfolding grace.
i read these words and began to weep. my father, Jesus, knew exactly what i needed. He didn't keep it from me, but pored it out there for me, the minute that i was willing to receive it. and He didn't do in just any old way. He used the same little old devotional that i grew up with. the one i haven't read in years, but always makes me think of my sweet momma and her dedication to raising her girls in The Truth. and as i am here in chicago, away from my mother, for another day, i will cling to these words. as i board the plane tomorrow night to go and be with her, i will cling to these words. as i sit by her side, when it's time for me to leave, with each decision, with each step forward, with each slide back, i will cling to these words.
hearing about my mom, while in this state, with such distance in my heart from God, has been difficult. i've had a hard time running to His feet with my thoughts, my petitions and letting Him be my comforter and source of strength.
a side story:
from the first day i can recall until the last day i lived in my mother's home, we had family devotions. as a family, right before dinner, we would read the bible passage and daily reading found in our daily bread. afterwards, we would pray together. we would each pick a topic of prayer and then take turns praying out loud. this happened every day, regardless of the circumstances. it happened if we had friends over, it happened if someone was sick, and interruptions weren't really allowed. the phone could ring, someone could knock at the door... it didn't matter. my mother decided early on that it was a priority and that this time together was sacred. it happened everyday from my infancy until i left for college.
yesterday, as i was walking out of church, i glimpsed a stack of our daily bread out of the corner of my eye. i grabbed one, thinking that it would be a good activity for she and i to do together each day when i get to the hospital. i tucked it into my purse and went on my way.
now back to the first story i was telling:
last night i woke up in the middle of the night unable to sleep. i wanted to pray, but since thursday, my prayers have been hard. i need a miracle right now. God, fortunately, still performs them. and yet, i am aware that for the past few weeks, i have been pushing God away to the fringe. i talk to Him, sure, but it just hasn't been the same. i have been wrestling with the hypocrisy that i feel- pushing God away and then suddenly calling on Him because i really need Him. i never wanted my relationship with God to get to that point. i long to be faithful, to be worshipful in everything, to be close to Him no matter what the circumstances may be. He is too magnificent to be reduced to my "santa in the sky" that i call on only in crisis and only when i want something from Him.
but my heart really wanted to pray. and so in the dark of my room, i prayed. the word pray sounds reverent- what i did, was a little less than that. i cried out and let God know just where i was. that i am frustrated, confused, and lonely. that i've been wondering where He has been these past few weeks and that i don't like the compartment in which i have placed Him.
and you know what, as i prayed, as i cried out to my sweet Jesus, it became abundantly clear. He has been there all along. and do you know what else, i felt this sweep of compassion cover me. it was clear to me that God can handle all of the emotions that i am feeling. He's big enough to shoulder my frustration, He's loving enough to understand my pain, and He is full of forgiveness big enough to cover the distance i have placed in our relationship. He doesn't hold grudges and He reaches out in that instant, the one where we turn to face Him, and he embraces us.
this morning, like every morning since the accident, i called my sisters to get the morning report. today's news just didn't sound good. the doctors had decided that she wasn't strong enough to endure the surgery needed to place the pins in her broken hand. her confusion has increased a bit and she is more unsure about where she is or the reality of the moment. she is also experiencing a lot of discomfort. since she is already limited by her physical handicap that resulted from the aneurysm, there are fewer positions that she can be in. her legs are cramping up, her hips are sore, and she is overall uncomfortable.
after talking to my sisters, i put delaney in her chair for some breakfast. ellie was still asleep and it was just the two of us sitting in the silence while she ate. i couldn't stop thinking about the copy of our daily bread in my purse. i went and pulled it out and opened up my bible, asking God for Him to speak to me. i just needed something to hold onto. i started to read the excerpt for december 1st and then remembered i was supposed to read the scripture passage first. i flipped in my bible to the passage for today:
2 corinthians 4:7-18
"if you only look at us, you might well miss the brightness. we carry this precious message around in the unadorned clay pots of our ordinary lives. that's to prevent anyone from confusing God's incomparable power with us. as it is, there's not much chance of that. you know for yourselves that we're not much to look at. we've been surrounded and battered by troubles, but we're not demoralized; we're not sure what to do, but we know that God knows what to do; we've been spiritually terrorized, but God hasn't left our side; we've been thrown down, but we haven't broken. what they did to Jesus, they do to us- trial and torture, mockery and murder; what Jesus did among them, he does in us- he lives! our lives are at constant risk for Jesus' sake, which makes Jesus' life all the more evident in us. while we're going through the worst, you're getting in on the best! we're not keeping this quiet, not on your life. just like the psalmist who wrote, "i believed it, so i said it," we say what we believe. and what we believe is that the One who raised up the Master Jesus will just as certainly raise us up with you, alive. every detail works to your advantage and to God's glory; more and more grace, more and more people, more and more praise! so we're not giving up. how could we! even though on the outside it often looks like things are falling apart on us, on the inside, where God is making new life, not a day goes by without his unfolding grace.
i read these words and began to weep. my father, Jesus, knew exactly what i needed. He didn't keep it from me, but pored it out there for me, the minute that i was willing to receive it. and He didn't do in just any old way. He used the same little old devotional that i grew up with. the one i haven't read in years, but always makes me think of my sweet momma and her dedication to raising her girls in The Truth. and as i am here in chicago, away from my mother, for another day, i will cling to these words. as i board the plane tomorrow night to go and be with her, i will cling to these words. as i sit by her side, when it's time for me to leave, with each decision, with each step forward, with each slide back, i will cling to these words.
*above is that picture of my mom and i when i was born, right before she went in to surgery. my aunt sharon posted it on her blog for me.
1 comment:
What a transparent witness to real people!! You have an amazing heart! I love u!!! s
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