I am still here,
but I have been rather quiet lately.
The facts are that we have been sick.
SICK for over a month people.
The last bought started with waking up to a "Mom, I puked" at 12:30 a.m.
And an,
"I almost made it."
Sigh. (Aren't you glad that I didn't post a picture here ;)
That ailment passed through all 4 of us and I am the last to recover.
I've resorted to washing my hands with antibacterial kitchen spray and hand soap now:
a girl has got to do what a girl has got to do.
The facts are that we've had a lot of stress lately
coming from a number of different
big things
in our life.
I'm sure that hasn't helped the "sick" thing either.
I have to admit that when bad things happen
in my life
I usually default to feeling guilty
that somehow I caused this
and that I should know how to make it go away.
This thinking, in itself, is not bad.
There is some practical wisdom that can from this type of thinking.
BUT
this thinking becomes a problem for me when it paralyzes me with guilt.
Let me illustrate:
A few weeks ago, the sweet ladies at our Ladies' Bible Study asked me to share
the story of our youngest son's birth and how God healed him.
I asked them if I could share another time because I wasn't up to it.
I didn't want to share because #1 it was likely going to make me cry (who likes doing that in public?)
and
#2 that whole situation didn't go the way I wanted it to. Right then, it didn't seem like much of a victory testimony.
You see,
I wanted him to be born with no complications and to be able to come home right away healthy and whole.
Instead, he was in the hospital for 25 days, had two blood transfusions, and was on Oxygen for 6 months.
I have carried a lot of guilt about that.
That's why I really didn't want to share.
It was a rough journey for all of us.
It was painful emotionally, financially, and spiritually.
During that time we met many
people who were going through even more painful circumstances with their little ones.
The Bible is filled with people who were healed instantly.
Why wasn't my faith big enough or strong enough to make that happen for my baby?
And that is the guilt in a nutshell.
This could get really theological right about now.
I could be opening up a big can of worms by speaking this publicly.
But I hate feeling like a fraud or hypocrite.
Facing the facts is the quickest way to bring about change.
So, I'm putting my brave on
and facing these facts publicly.
Here is what I believe God showed me this morning.
I saw myself in a pinball machine.
I was being bopped around haphazardly
between
a lot of either or situations that I had set up
in my own thought patterns.
Either God heals baby in the way I had imagined
or my faith is null and void.
Either God provides for us in the way that I had imagined
or my faith is null and void.
Et cetera, et cetera.
I was going
tilt.
Get the picture?
It's noisy and unpredictable in that pinball machine.
It's stressful in there.
And then I was reminded of God's Word in Psalm 121:
"I lift up my eyes to the hills,
From where does my help come?
[I am letting God take the lid off my pinball game, and I am looking up
to HIM. He is where my help comes from.]
My help comes from the Lord,
who made heaven and earth.
He will not let your foot be moved,
he who keeps you will not slumber.
Behold, he who keeps Israel
will neither slumber nor sleep.
The Lord is your keeper,
the Lord is your shade on your right hand.
The sun shall not strike you by day,
nor the moon by night.
The Lord will keep you from all evil;
he will keep your life.
The Lord will keep your going out and your coming in from this time forth and forevermore."
Looking back, my life has not
always gone the way I had wanted it,
but God has
always kept me.
God did heal my son. He is healthy and whole and FULL of life.
And that is a victory testimony, isn't it?
I am purposely going to change my gaze from being on how I want things to go
to looking to Whom my help comes from.
It's already feeling a whole lot more peaceful in my soul.
I don't know exactly how He is going to do it, but He is going to keep me now and forevermore.
Amen (which means: let it be)
