Well, here it is, one month from the day that my world had a little earthquake of it’s own. I didn’t officially know as of yet, but I knew, if you know what I mean.
Can I admit that a wide variety of thoughts coursed through my head in the next 5 days?
“God, you’re doing this because you’re going to take one of my children, and this is a replacement. I don’t want it. I just want the two I have.”
I’ve always had this irrational fear of losing one of my children. Abduction. Illness. Drive by shooting (yeah, I told you they’re irrational). The places my mind can go when it comes to my children is astonishing and embarrassing.
“God, you’ve involved me in NILMDTS because this is going to end badly. I’d rather not deal with that, thank you.”
“God, this is incredible! I have to count this as a miracle – a true, palpable miracle in my life. Thank you!”
“God, I’ve been looking for an answer. Thank you for giving me such a clear sign.”
“God, this is one of those little reminders that YOU’RE the one in control, huh? I know, I get it, never say never! You’re so funny! Thank you for reminding me You are God.”
And then, the next few weeks left me just as confused.
“If you were just going to take the baby, why?”
“It was all that caffeine and junk I was eating the whole week before I knew because I was so tired but trying to get everything in my overfilled schedule done. Wow, what a lesson in taking care of your temple.”
“I sure have a lot of stuff I do for my family, and not with my family. What a renewed vision for motherhood.”
“God, again, you remind me that you are the Almighty. The one in charge. Thank you for reminding me You are God.”
This post is prompted by a book I’m reading Dancing with My Father by Sally Clarkson. A friend, a friend who knows my heart and the struggles of my world, bought me this book. I have to praise God for friendships. You need to know that I also have Sally’s book The Mission of Motherhood. It’s one of those books that I spiked in the middle of reading after balking over one of her points that then created a deep Biblical study and discussion between Jeremy and I. (I’ll spare you the details on that one because, as often happens, I’m re-processing it and plan to re-read the book. But, I’m sure it will make another post in the upcoming months.)
Anyway, I’m on a retreat in Austin with my hubby. Usually I attend all the sessions and socialize and encourage, but I came with one goal (maybe two) – spend as much time in the room alone to read and rest. So, I have! Yes, I feel a little guilty that others are in sessions, I haven’t been to work out yet, haven’t graded any papers, and I’ve been on the computer too much, but I want to cherish this book.
The motif of my life is back: open our hands and release what you’re holding on to. The first time I read it, I just stopped and stared. I didn’t know whether to cry or laugh. I think I’ve read the same metaphor three times now, and I’m on page 70. Maybe I’m overly sensitive? Yeah, I think so, and I’m supposed to be, clearly.
What just grabbed my attention and made me start typing was this verse:
“Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing” (James 1:2-4).
All of my random, misguided, untrusting thoughts from above are summed up in these verses from James. God tested my faith. I don’t need to understand the answers, I need to believe that He loves me. And I do.