For the past week the skies have been overcast. The sun, while still underneath the cloud's blanket, seems to be a thing of the past. My three year old, confused, will ask me, "momma, is it really morning now?" because there has been no cheery morning sunshine lighting his room.
The lack of the sun wears us out. Moods seem a bit shorter, and tiredness has crept into my family's day. My five year old moaned this morning because it was "yucky" outside again today. The days creep by, and we all seem a bit more agitated. Exhausted. Where is the light?
It's become difficult to manage time these past couple days. I've been excessively busy with outside commitments (which I discussed in the previous post), and on top of it, have been trying to deal with the fatigue that I feel when I don't get my daily vitamin D source. But, despite the physical tiredness, I feel mentally alive and alert. And that is not from myself, that is from the Father. When He fills me with His hope and Word, then I can move forward alive and full of life.
There are seasons where everything is dark and dismal. Perhaps it's finances, or a relationship, or health, or just general exhaustion with life. During those times if the only source of strength is self - then I became quickly discouraged and as Brennan stated "yucky." Still it is difficult in the midst of trials to look beyond the present reality and set of circumstances. Society and human nature can apply pressures to our lives at an unrelenting pace. After awhile, our view of the future can be tainted a dismal and cloudy gray.
Come unto me, all who labor and are heavy, and I will give you rest.
Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me,
for I am gentle and lowly in heart,
and you wil find rest for your souls.
For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.
Matthew 11:28-30
In the NIV I believe labor is replaced with the word - weary. Oh, how true those words of Jesus are for us today. As wives and mothers, we labor endlessly. Our work doesn't cease when the skies of life become overcast, no...we press forward. And yet, after awhile, the yoke of the world wears us out. We allow the agitation of reality to sink into our souls. There is no rest when our spirit is overcast!
Jesus tells us to come to Him. In Him is true rest. I always chuckle when I think about a yoke being called easy. When is it easy to be constrained? But, when I read these words I don't picture life with Jesus being constrained...rather in yoking myself to my Savior I imagine and know that there is real freedom. Freedom in the midst of overcast and weary days.
Who knows when the skies here will finally part and the sun will shine. I know it's under there, waiting to shine. I have faith that there will be sun again. I also have faith that our Savior is always there, wanting us to release our fears and anxieties to Him and that He will give rest. A rest that cannot be found in self or in this world, but a rest that is sweet and peaceful...in any weather.
This last week has slipped away from me. I've been in time, and yet I've seen the days move by...faster and faster. As hard as I try to utilize every moment of time, I still find myself short, wishing that for more time.
What is it about time? How can I need more time in my day? What's interesting about that is that our Lord gives us 24 hours of time. Each day. Not a minute more, not a minute less. And yet, here I am, yearning for more time to complete everything. But, then again, what's everything?
I've begun to realize that perhaps there are items on my busy plate of life that don't need to be there. On the surface they look great, they are service projects, they are my own projects, and yet they are contributing to the ever-increasing anxiety in the lack of time in my day. When I ponder the type of mother and wife that I desire to be, the type that the Lord would desire, I do not conjure up an image of a woman who is frazzled and frustrated over the lack of time.
Strength and dignity are her clothing,
and she laughs at the time to come.
Proverbs 31:25
Laughs at the time to come? When do I laugh when I ponder my week ahead? All too often, as I look at the various schedules and duties that are penciled on my calander overwhelm fills my spirit. When overwhelm is allowed to reign, then strength and dignity cannot be worn. So where do I, and other women, adopt and wear strength and dignity? For the last week, as my time raced by, I thought about time. I thought about blogging, about my duties, about mothering, about being a wife, about work, and about my dreams. The importance of a Godly hierarchy of time became apparant. It is way too easy to allow "good things" and obligations to overtake time.
What I began to realize is that my family needs to come first in my time structure. First, after my relationship with the Lord, of course. When I allow my own needs and desires to outpace the needs of my family, I find myself out of balance, out of sync. Now mind you, the needs of my family include structuring time for myself to plan and recharge. What I say "yes" to needs to work with our family structure. Will it cause anxiety as we leave? Will I have to take away needed time from them to pursue this option? These questions need pondering before a new commitment is added to my plate. I desire that our home is a sanctuary, a place of needed rest and learning. I know that living under the pressures of an over-scheduled life will not allow my family life to be calm and nurturing.
My life, right now, is in a place of transition. Many things are shifting, rearranging. Some are amazing blessings, and some things are quite difficult. This last week, when I didn't blog, it was an intentional choice. I am grateful for all of you continuing to check in on my blog. I knew that I needed to reserve my time for my family. However, blogging is an amazing way for me to journal my thoughts and gain some clarity. And, because of that, it is structured into my weeks. My goal is to write 2-3 times/ week. I'm hoping that when I do that you are blessed by my words.
Can I challenge you to look at your schedule, your use of time? So often we move at such a hyper pace, that our robes are not of strength, but rather of slavery. The Lord has blessed us with 24 hours each day. What are you going to use your gift of time, of a day, for? And what robe will you clothe yourself with? I pray that your use of time, and mine, allows us to wear strength and dignity.
Today, I'm going to do something a bit different. There are several topics that I'm eager to write about, but I'm going to wait on them. Yesterday, my oldest daughter, Hannah, wrote a post on her blog Random Musings that I thought was amazing. I chatted with her a bit and asked if I could repost her article on vessels over her. I've got her permission, and now you too, will be able to get a glimpse into her heart.
Remember when Jesus told the disciples to let the children come to Him? I really believe that children, or in my case my young adult/almost teenager daughter Hannah, have wisdom in them. Their view of the world isn't jaded like ours, and because of that their connection with our Father can be deeper, without all the hang-ups that we adults add. What's sad for me is that I don't take enough time to listen to them. So often, when I really listen and try to understand, I am amazed at the nuggets of truth that comes from their hearts.
Enjoy Hannah's article. I love that she took "being a vessel of Christ" and switched it up a bit. And, if you'd be so kind, would you pop over to her blog Random Musings and post her a comment of encouragement? I know she'd appreciate your words. Oh, one more thing...Hannah...I am really proud of you, and proud to be your mom.
An interesting thought appeared to me the other day, I pondered it for awhile and felt that it would make a good blog post...
If we are to be Vessels of Christ, then what are we going to carry on our ship? And who's going to steer?
Today's world is immersed in a culture of ungodliness and sin. We are surrounded by temptations and evil thoughts and desires. The world strives to make us like it, to make us enjoy sinning, and to sin often.
Picture the world as a giant ocean, and everyone who lives in it [the world, now a giant ocean] as a boat. There are all sorts of boats, large ones, small ones, ornate ones and disheveled ones. They all run their courses, they are all unique. But some are dirtier than others. Some carry rotten cargo; others carry filthiness and disease. And some of those boat's crew's are unskilled; they are beginners and they do their ship more harm than good.
Is that the kind of cargo and crew you want on your ship?
That analogy seems to fit for all human beings. We are all different, yet sometimes we carry bad cargo.
When I speak of an unskilled crew, then I am talking about all of our different emotions. We may not always have control over them, and therefore we let our "crew" (our emotions) tamper with our boat and harm it. Our rotten cargo could be things that we see, ungodly thoughts, or something we say. The slightest hint of rottoness will turn other boats' away from yours. The slightest perversity and vulgarity will seek to dirty your soul.
So how do we clean up our cargo and crew? How do we make our vessel pure again? How do we purify ourselves as human beings?
To begin with, reading God's word is an absolute must. Proverbs 2:1-5 says:
"My son, if you recieve my words
and treasure up my commandments with you,
2 making your ear attentive to wisdom
and inclining your heart to understanding;
3 yes, if you call out for insight
and raise your voice for understanding,
4 if you seek it like silver
and search for it as for hidden treasures
5 then you will understand the fear of the LORD and find the knowledge of God."
How true...how very true. If you truly try to learn from reading the Bible, then you will learn. Maybe not as fast as you'd like, but still.
Also, it's important to watch what you do, say, see, hear and speak. The song "Slow Fade" comes to mind as I type these words. It really is important for us as Christians to watch what we are doing and what sort of life we are living. If you recognize a pattern of iniquity after you do or hang out with someone, then stop. In the long run, our faith is much more important. We need to be careful, we need to watch out for traps set by the world.
One last thought; we've talked about our "crew" and "cargo" but, who's steering? I think it only appropriate to link to one of my mom's posts about this, she voices it perfectly. To read it, click HERE.
I hope that from now on, all of you *gestures to anyone reading this* will watch what's going on with your "cargo" and "crew" and especially who's steering.
My idea for this week's Wednesday's Walk came to me last week. I knew that last week I was to write about Todd's grandmother. In the process of writing, I went through some old photographs on my computer. And I came across a couple of my little Elijah last February when he was in the hospital. He was there because he had a severe case of pneumonia as a complication from getting influenza.
I'm sure that picture popped to me attention because Elijah has once again been fighting pneumonia. Thankfully, he is older now, and I am more insistent for treatment. He's almost back to his excited and normal self. We had a couple of rough days, but overall his breathing is almost back to normal.
Elijah in the hospital 2/08
But that's not my memory. My memory is about when I was in the hospital with him, but doesn't really involve him. It is about the power of the words, "Thank you." You see, Elijah, since he had influenza which is highly contagious, was quarantined in his room. And so was I. Anyone that entered the room had to put on full garb...scrubs, gloves, mask, hair net, etc... We'd easily fill the garbage can each day. Well, every couple of hours I would hear the food cart and food service individuals coming through the pediatric floor. Since I was nursing Elijah, the hospital provided food for me. I quickly discovered that these workers had to don all the gear...everytime...in and out. So I decided to meet them at the door. They were stunned. And then I told them, "thank you." Many, many times. And they were even more stunned. One of the workers, a very sweet lady, told me that many times they aren't acknowledged at all. And that people are often short with them. I am sure that this is a very hard floor to work. There were many ill children, and many sad parents. And these individuals are around sadness and sickness daily. What a hard job.
When I uttered my little thanks, these people were grateful. This is their job, and they are serving me. They deserve thanks. A smile, a helping hand. I am thankful that there was someone to bring me food every day. I didn't want to leave Elijah's side. The thought of going down six floors to the cafeteria was not appealing. So they brought me food. And I am grateful.
So often, as we are caught up in the busy schedule of life, it can be easy to overlook those around us. The cashier at Target. The barista at Caribou (who I know well...grin). The mailman. The janitor at Costco. The waiter. Common courtesy and kindness tends to be set-aside as we scramble through our daily lives. But what would happen if we took a second, and that's all it would be, and said, "Thanks." Looked the cashier in their eyes and truly thanked them. Wished them a good day. I certainly know that there are times where I forget to be cordial. But, I've also been in a service position. I've dealt with crabiness, or aloofness, or in some worse the type of attitude that looked down on me. It was awful. I'd remind myself to not take it personally. But sometimes I did.
Lately, I've been realizing how I need to be setting the tone for my children. It's essential to nurture the power of THANKS in them. I've taught them to thank their ballet teacher at the end of class. They tell their grandparents thank you for the visit. Simple thanks go so far: for the librarian after she helps them find a book, or the greeter at church, and even to their siblings. Thank you's are powerful words. Who knows just how important that second of thanks will be for the person on the receiving end. When I read Proverbs I am daily reminded of the potency of our words. For example, a favorite around our home is:
"Pleasant words are a honeycomb sweet to the soul and healing to the bones."
So with that I want to thank you, my faithful readers. Hopefully this post was encouraging. Think of how we can be lights in this world simply by being grateful. You know, I am grateful for you. I appreciate every single comment, and read them all. May you all be blessed. Please remember to visit Dancing Barefoot on Weathered Ground for more memories. You'll be thankful you did! One more thing...if you're looking for another interesting memory with insight be sure to read my post from yesterday called how come you always put the peanut butter on first? You'll get a laugh...as well as a peek into my heart!
how come you always put the peanut butter on first?
WHAT? How come I put the peanut butter on first? This morning, as I was making my five year old, Brennan, a sandwich, he looked up at me and asked me about the peanut butter. As I stood there with a knife ladened with peanut butter, I froze at his question. I didn't know what to say. And more than that, I had never thought about why I put the peanut butter on before the jelly. I've just always done it that way.
So I told him that I didn't know and that's the way I always do it. And he told me, "maybe you could try to do the jelly first sometime?" Again...I was stunned. Do the jelly first? How does that work?
And then I got to thinking about blogging and how this little interaction was worthy of a blog post. You see, putting the peanut butter on first is a habit. Not only is it a habit, but it is one that I don't ever think about why I do it. Certainly in the scheme of life it's a little thing, but my innocent five year old's comments allowed me to ponder choices and responses. Think about this: there are good habits and habits that need to be re-examined. A good habit would be daily waking up and giving over the day and anxieties to our Lord. A bad habit, for me, would be sitting down at the computer in the morning and frittering away time, and then starting late and allowing my own lack of time management set the tone for the day. In that instance, I need to re-evaluate why that pattern is one that I follow.
Patterns and ruts in our minds are sometimes difficult to identify. The first step is recognizing that they are there...similar to the analogy of chipping away at the snow in my previous post hard, hard work . The patterns and responses are all there imbedded in who we are as individuals. A response that I'd love to change in myself is instantly feeling irritation when my kids fight. (I know, I know there goes the illusion that my family is perfect...:) ) Anyways, I will hear yelling or annoyance or "MOM" from them and I instantly can feel the hairs on the back of my neck raise. So I started to examine this response. After all, it is an emotion to a situation, it isn't me as a whole, it's just an emotional response to the stimuli of fighting. The first thing I discovered is quite humbling. I am annoyed because part of me doesn't want to be bothered at that moment. I don't want to have to get up from the computer or reading or cooking or etc.. (which I've had to many times throughout this post), I don't want to have to deal with consequences, I simply want to keep my time to myself. The second response, after the initial annoyance, is that I am tired of dealing with the fighting. But, still, it surprises me that my first line of reasoning was, in fact, a bit selfish. I am the mother. Yes, they should work on getting along and patience, but I am also the one that should be there guiding them, leading them.
So, now what? I've identified the response, but how do I change it? Well, after prayer and thought, I've realized that I need to work on creating a new response to this situation. And that involves work. It's not easy to change a habit, especially one that is ingrained into who we are as a person. I decided to come up with a strategy for my response to fighting. First, when I hear the arguing, if I feel irritation creeping in I take that and give it to Jesus. I'll take the annoyance and ask Him to replace it with gratitude, wisdom and patience. Gratitude? Yes...thankfulness that He placed me as their mother. I need wisdom. That will remind me to get up and deal with the situation. And finally, patience in spirit for me...so that when I am handling the scenario I can have a heart that is understanding and loving. I also decided to have a conversation with my children. If they are going to expend time arguing, then there will be a consequence. Typically it involves extra chores. I also discussed that they need to give me time to respond. Yelling MOM over and over will not make me move faster. For those that can count, they need to give me to the count of ten to respond.
Am I perfect? Absolutely not. Even in the course of writing this I've had to battle this pattern. But now, I am aware that this is an old responces, and now I have implemented ways to counteract reacting this way. It's so easy to go through life on auto-pilot. We dash here and there, we shout out answers, we are busy. My encouragement for you is to look at your life and to identify patterns of your own. Do you have any "peanut butter on first" responses? The Lord is good, He will help you discover them. And more than that, with Him you can develop a new pattern. And maybe, it involves putting the jelly on first.
"But I say, walk by the Spirit,
and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh."
Galatians 5:16
Blessings,
Rachel
oh...sorry about the length between posts. I've really tried to be diligent in posting, but these last several days slipped away from me. My little guy, Elijah, was diagnosed with pneumonia last week, and several other of my children came down with bad colds. Thankfully, this morning, I really can tell we are on the upswing.
Finally! Today I gathered all the entries to My Blog Giveaway and wrote them all down, put them in a cup, and had my sweet three year old, Caleb, draw one out. Very, very scientific. At first he drew them all, and then I told him, "only one, Caleb...only one." And so he took one out and gave it to me....and the winner is.....
DAWN!
I have had the honor of meeting Dawn last spring at a MOMYS retreat. She is an amazing woman, who has the utmost trust in our Lord, and lives her daily life with great hope and joy. If you read her entry (posted below) you will see the daily struggles that she deals with...and I yet I rarely hear her complain about her trials...rather I constantly see her bring them to the throne of Jesus asking for His glory. Blogging readers, would you add Dawn to your family prayers? And would you take a moment to sign her caringbridge page? I know you will be blessed in the time that you spend reading about her family, and her faith.
I'm not sure if this is what you are looking for, but through the ups and downs of our children's medical condition's, the Lord has used music to minister to me.
Early on in this journey, the song "Praise You In This Storm" by Casting Crowns really spoke to me. It seemed we were facing storm after storm and it was a reminder to praise Him in the midst of them. After a while of storm after storm, I heard the song "Bring the Rain" by Mercy Me. I listened to the words and though what a powerful testimony it was. But I couldn't sing it.
I justified it. I told the Lord time after time - "I have enough rain! I don't want any more, but I will praise You in this storm." Still, I kept hearing the song.
I can't tell you exactly which day, but there was a point where the Lord spoke to me in that still, small voices asking me if I trusted Him. Would I surrender to His will? It was one thing to say that I would praise Him in our circumstances (storms), but still another to surrender fully to Him and tell Him that I would accept any rain he sent - if that's what it took to praise Him.
I surrendered. And I have cried out that song to Him in prayer over and over and over again. Now,it is the ringtone on my phone when a doctor's office calls. It reminds me, before I even hear what the doctors have to say, to prepare my heart for whatever He may have in store. "If that's what it takes to praise you, Jesus, Bring the Rain!"
I knew what I was going to write about well before the morning came. I knew it was going to be about Todd's grandmother, Grandma Dumpling. But, I wasn't sure what I wanted to say. And as I thought about her life, her legacy, the words and memories became crystal clear.
Grandma Dumpling, a name my children gave her because of the amazing plum dumplings she made, was a woman of not so many words, but of character. She immigrated to the United States when she was in her teens. She spent the early years of her life in Czechoslovakia living and tending a farm. She came to Minnesota, married, had a family and spent the rest of her days living her life to the fullest.
At her funeral I was once again reminded of the depth of character found in this extraordinary woman. When everyone was given an opportunity to share memories about Grandma the bulk of memories were about her incredible can do attitude. She was on her roof at 89 years old cleaning out her gutters. She was walking barefoot on the beach in Florida at 93. She was reading to my Grace at 98 years old. And Grace, sweet Grace, adored her. She loved sitting with her, playing with her necklaces, and talking with her. She taught me how to cook Czech food at 95. She did and did and did....never once did I see her age hold her back. (this was until she fell at 99 years old...then she lived in a nursing home. She ached to have her freedom, her strength.)
Grandma Dumpling reading with two year old Grace (spring 2003)
Grandma worked hard. She valued work. But, she didn't need praise for her work. She'd spend hours making an amazing chicken noodle soup with hand sliced noodles because she loved us...not because she needed acclaim and praise. (We did make sure to heap it on her...) She tended her raspberry bushes, she worked in the gardens, she tended her home. She was determined. So often we look for status and praise in what we do. We think work needs recognition. But, when I ponder Grandma's life I realize that she thought of work as a gift. Work was freedom. Playing 500 was a gift...something to look forward to...but work, it was part of the day. Not to be avoided, just completed. Without complaint.
Below, in her handwriting, is her recipe for plum dumplings. I knew when she gave it to me years ago that I was going to save it...that there was significance to it. If you look at it, there are no fancy techniques, extra steps, and even much information....yet...it's all I need to make plum dumplings. Grandma didn't need to take the time to make the recipe look more than it was. She knew that the end result would speak for itself.
Plum Dumpling Recipe
Isn't that the truth about character? A real determination of character can be seen in the results, not in all the talk and embellishments beforehand. So often it's tempting to create this illusion of self. That I've got it all together, that I'm super mom, that my kids are homeschool geniuses. And yet, when I look at Grandma Dumpling, I'm reminded that there is true character in being real, and in work. Those weathered hands worked until they could no longer. Her character was in her reliabilty...in her honesty...in her can do it self. These are the values that I hope to cultivate, to teach to my children.
Her character was not just in giving information, but in teaching, passing on information. To you, her words above might look like no information. Certainly not a recipe. But for me, who spent hours side by side, with her hands teaching mine how to roll the dough and wrap the plums, those letters are only part of the mix. Looking at the recipe reminds me to take time to teach this recipe to my children. To continue passing down, from generation to generation, this recipe. But more than that, it's a demonstration of how character is less about words and more about action. Those words alone don't portray the depth of love and determination wrapped up in Grandma. Character is deep and lasting. Grandma taught me to value work, to teach, and above all to love.
Thanks for remembering with me today. I am so grateful for this blogging meme. Please go to Lynnette's Blog Dancing Barefoot on Weathered Ground to read more memories.
A little update first, and then my post. I'm behind. I know it. I have to draw for my blog contest, and I have to write a post. We've just had an extraordinarily busy weekend. On Thursday, of last week, Todd's sweet, almost 102, grandmother died. Stay tuned...I will be writing about her tomorrow for Wednesday's Walk. It will be a wonderful entry as this woman was full of joy and lived a long and amazing life. I hope you check back tomorrow to share and remember with me.
My two girls finished their play this weekend. They were wonderful. When my camera gets batteries I will post some pictures. And all worked out great. Chloe called me, and I was able to encourage her. And, finally, my little Elijah is sick. He woke up ill on Thursday and has been sick ever since. I did find out yesterday that he has a double ear infection. The doctor was surprised that his right ear hadn't burst. I am praying that his cough gets better. I'm still a tad bit worried that he has pneumonia. I'll keep watching him.
At grandma's funeral, on Sunday before the second performance of the play. the minister read from Ecclesiastes. He read:
"For everything there is a season,
and a time for every matter under heaven:
a time to be born, and a time to die:
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted:
a time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
a time to gather stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to seek, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
a time to tear, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
a time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace."
Ecclesiastes 3:1-8
My, oh my, did the tears stream from my face while he read those words. My heart ached for just one more sweet memory with Grandma, and yet, at the same time rejoiced for her freedom in heaven. But more than that, those words compelled me to start pondering time. Again.
Sometimes I think it is too easy to super-impose a preconceived idea of time onto our days. We hear about how we need to do so many things, how we are to accomplish this and that, how we are to exercise, volunteer, keep a perfect house, and so on. And that idea of "super-woman" time sits over the reality of our time. And the frustration of trying to cram 42 hours of activities into a 24 hour day leaves us, and for sure me, frustrated and frazzled. That simply is not my time. Right now, on this cold day in January, my time is to be home. To be teaching my children, making a home for my husband, and when there are moments writing. If I adopt others' ideas of how I need to be spending my time, then the result could be a feeling of inadequacy. And that feeling leads to feelings of failure. And there is no time for that.
If you read further in the same chapter of Ecclesiastes it states:
"He has made everything beautiful in its time....
I perceived there is nothing better for them than to be joyful
and to do good as long as they live."
Ecclesiastes 3:11a and 12
To be joyful? Am I a mother, a wife, a woman with a spirit of joy when I fight the time that I am given? You know, this time for me, probably won't be calm. Oh, I will have moments of quietness, but not continuous calmness. I have six children...three five and under. And I love them dearly, but I also know that I will be busy. There will be milk to clean up, tears to wipe, stories to read, diapers to change, disagreements to referee, toys to pick up, laundry, cleaning, cuddling, and on and on. These times won't last forever. They are fleeting. At the dinner after grandma's funeral many of the elderly friends came up to me and told me to relish this time. One sweet woman, with tears in her eyes, gently stated how it felt like yesterday when her children were young. And now, for her, it has been 50 years. Time moves on. And on.
So my challenge is to embrace this time, this season. Maybe I don't have the perfect home, or go on the best trips, or can work-out every morning. But what I do have is now. I have the moments of cuddling while I read "Winnie the Pooh." I can be excited over the tower that my toddler builds. I can listen when my twelve year old describes the latest email poll. I can spend time building a snow fort out front. I can be there for them and embrace this time.
Enjoy the time of today. Maybe spend a few moments identifying the season that you are in right now. Have you spent time trying to live in a different season? Ask the Lord to fill your heart with contentment and joy for the current time and season. I know I am. I'm right there with you.
Do you ever have those days where everything piles up all at once? Days where there is more to do than the alloted time allows? Days where you have to do it yourself? Days with sick children on top of craziness? Days where you wish you could wind back the clock and start again?
Today was one of those days. Sigh, and it's only 10:30 am. This week, in general, has been crazy and full of work. And sadness. Two people I've known died this week. One was a young mother, my age, from coloN cancer. And the next morning, Todd's grandmother. Although she was almost 102, her death brings nostalgia and memories to the surface. Let's see...Todd has worked almost 80 hours this week. He's got a ridiculous deadline to complete a project and his old business partner is pulling up and going to Washington. Without finishing the project...and thus leaving it all on Todd's hands. And now, today, the reason I feel like I failed was because my two younger girls are in a community theater play. Instead of me being the good mom, you know the one who encourages them and builds them up, I fell victim to my own inner panic and ended up stressed, short-tempered and impatient. They needed curls in their hair, makeup, clothes, etc... And I needed to get it all done myself.
Elijah, the baby, is quite sick with upper respiratory issues. So last night, I had no sleep. Todd is gone, trying to cram in work before he comes home to watch the younger boys so I can go to the play. My heart aches...why didn't I stay calm? I could have done the whole morning with the paradigm of calmness and encouragement in my spirit.
I know why. I didn't prioritize. I didn't get up early, and when I was awake I allowed anger over my circumstances to dictate my mood. I was no longer in charge of my emotions, my emotions were driving me. If, and only if, I had taken five minutes at the throne of the Father and given Him my burdens my day might have been different. If I had planned better. If I was willing to forgive this old business partner. But, I've clung to bitterness and anger...because I see how hard everything is for my husband. Sigh...
I did call the director and asked her to have Chloe call me so that I can encourage her. Why is this lesson so hard to learn? It's an old pattern, that panic and anxiety. A pattern that I probably learned as a child. We'd be leaving and have to rush to get everything done. I need to release that pattern, that rut of a way to do life, to the Lord. After all, it's a lie. I don't have to be anxiety-ridden before a major event. I can be calm. But somehow I've believed that prior to an event, or when I have to do all myself, that the way to operate is with anxiety.
I've gotten better, mind you. I am more aware of the tendency to slip into anxiety. It is one of those things that I need to be chipping away at. This action is a hard layer of icy snow that needs to be removed. This morning was another wake-up call into my imperfect person. Thank goodness, that with our Lord's blood, that I am white as snow. Otherwise I would be a very dismal scarlet.
I love this verse from Isaiah. It reminds me to keep working at releasing the lies and strongholds and to keep looking for hope and identity in Christ. I pray that my words this morning, as raw and real as they are, are encouraging to you. I pray that in my vulnerability you can begin and continue to expose areas in which need releasing to our Father.
"Do not remember the former things, nor consider the things of old. Behold, I will do a new thing, it shall spring forth; Sall you not know it? I will even make a road in the wilderness and rivers in the desert."
Isaiah 43:18-19
I know my daughter will do well. And, I know that I can do better. And I will, through Christ who strengthens me. He'll take this desert time, and transform it for His glory. And maybe, just maybe, my little bit of honesty, is exactly what was needed.
Well, it's Wednesday again. It's amazing how fast time passes. I know I was busy this last week, but doing what? I made a commitment to join Lynnette's Wednesday Walk so today is this week's walk down memory lane.
Yep, that's me. Looking at the hand-written date my mother so lovingly scrawled on the back it would put me at just over five years old. My grandparents, on my dad's side, had this wonderful boat. They lived less than a mile from a major lake, and until I was a teenager my grandfather payed for a slip to dock the boat. I spent countless summer nights fishing for pan fish, and later, in the setting summer sun, scaling fish in my grandparents three season porch.
One of my favorite activities with the boat was to play in the boat prior to it being launched. If you look around, you can see that it's in a neighborhood. There's a street ot the left, and grass in front. My dad would lift me into the boat dubbed "The Crusader" and my younger sister, Becky, and I would set off for an adventure. We'd pretend to clean the boat, we'd create stories of being lost at sea, and occasionally we'd have a little fight. However, we quickly learned that if we earned the privilege of being in the boat we'd need to get along. Or at least fake it.
Anyways, this sweet picture creates such nostalgia in my heart. I loved spending times at my grandparents. I loved fishing and riding across the water with the wind blowing my curly hair around. I loved the excitement of seeing my bobber sink under the water, and the tension on my rod as I reeled in my sunfish. I craved those moments when my dad would ask me to sit on his lap so that I could steer the boat. I'd sit on his left knee and he would give me the steering wheel. Well, it felt that way. But, underneath his strong and guiding hand would hold the wheel tight making sure that I, a mere child, didn't crash, or spin us around, or guide us into shore. Yet, he let me learn. He allowed the boat to slip just a bit so that I'd learn how to readjust.
As the years passed his grip on the boat lessened and lessened. Eventually, he handed over the wheel to me. He trusted me. He taught me how to drive. He drilled the rules into my head. Who passes whom, on what side, what speed you go through the channel, and so on. I'd be asked over and over.
If you think about those early days of boat driving, there's a neat analogy about my father holding the wheel and that of our heavenly Father holding our earthly steering wheel. There are many times where I think that I know the right path, that I know where to go, and yet I find myself marooned on the shore. A shore, a place of lost dreams, lost hopes, and discouragement. Shipwrecked. My stubborness to let my Father guide me weakened my faith. And I was led to places that I didn't want to go. Or certainly, when I started the journey I was looking at the target, the destination. But, on my own, I didn't navigate there. My faith was weakened, and I drifted off course. Sometimes I'll grip the wheel of life and think, "I'm doing it on my own. I have to fix this." And other times, I'd let go. Neither works. There's a balance of action and faith.
In Timothy Paul talks about faith. I love the phrase "I have fought the good fight." Right after that verse comes this:
"...holding on to faith and a good conscience.
Some have rejected these and
so have shipwrecked their faith."
1 Timothy 1:19
Shipwrecked their faith? Is a shipwreck ever the intent of the captain? I know that, me as a daring boat captain at five, never ended, never aimed to drive the boat into a shore. And yet, if my Dad hadn't been steering with me, there is a good chance it would have sailed into the rocky shore. Oh, how I want to live in such a surrendered way where I know that I cannot steer through this life on my own. I need to live dependant upon my Father.
Thanks, again, Lynnette, for a delightful jaunt down memory lane. I hope that my bit of remembering coupled with my analogy motivates and encourages you all. The Lord is good. He knows the plans for our lives. He's got the map. Live for Him, my friends!
Blessings,
Rachel
One last thing: my blog contest for the book "Streams in the Desert" ends tomorrow night. Click here to enter: My Blog Giveaway Good Luck!
My journal about letting go, seeking Christ, choosing to believe, resting in faith and how that integrates with daily life. Life with now six beautiful children, one devoted husband, and myself with all of my dreams.
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