And Yet I Will...

Praise You.

This morning I was checking my work email and the Bb discussion posts. My students have access to a Prayer Forum Board where they can request prayer from me and their fellow classmates. I've mentioned my dad's cancer and requested prayer for God's leading and will to be accomplished.

I have one student in particular who has come along side me and diligently checked in and prayed. But it's not what you'd think. This student is my parents' age, and she has her own set of issues. In addition to dealing with Parkinson's, this woman has been taking care of her husband who has eye cancer. Not only has he lost some of his sight, but he'll have to undergo surgery over Christmas time.

Yet she hasn't complained and has only told me when I asked. She encourages me to keep looking to God and remember his grace and faithfulness. She doesn't promise a God that will let us "name it and claim it"--she's too wise for that. But she does remind me that God is good, whether we see it or not.

I'm blessed by the faith of a fellow sister--a relative stranger before these past few weeks--but someone I will spend eternity with.

And through this whole process of hope, struggle, disappointment, and acceptance, I'm learning that God has a plan that is outside my control (so thankful for that).

Because we need to laugh...

Overlooking Me to See You

You know how certain people in life have a label on them titled "Fragile: Handle with Care"? Regardless of the words you choose or your facial expressions, they play the defensive and are skeptics of your meaning. Usually those people have been hurt by others, doubted, subjected to ridicule by those who should have accepted them, and they are hesitant to make themselves truly vulnerable and trust anyone. Highly sensitive people, I call them. For them, overlooking an offense doesn't come without high sacrifice, because regardless of what you say or how you say it, everything is about them and their feelings. Most people have one or two of these individuals in their lives (if not more). And even though we may be called to be in such relationships, these people still drain you.

Good sense makes one slow to anger, and it is his glory to overlook an offense. Prov. 19:11

And then there are those friends who uplift your spirit. They are so outward focused that you can just be yourself (and they can be vulnerable t00). You don't have to double-back and explain or preface every phrase because they know you and understand your heart. You can laugh, cry, and express your fears without risk of being exploited or criticized. They hold you accountable because they truly care about your spirit and want what's best for you.

I am blessed by so many people in my life who are just that. I can turn myself inside out and they don't cringe, judge, or take personal offense. I can trust them to keep my heart safe and not expose it as something other to a listening ear. They are the dearest and truest friends.

I can't help but think that heaven will be comprised of these relationships solely. No masks, no misunderstandings, no self-centered sensitivities, no relational fears.

He who covers over an offense promotes love, but whoever repeats the matter separates close friends. Prov. 17:9

Finding God in the Sandbox

Feeling the need to meet with God and enjoy His creation, I sneaked out to the backyard while the kids napped. I didn't have a lot to say; I just wanted to listen. I paced around and tried to soak up some of that delicious sun.

Then... I got sidetracked, as all type-A, task-driven people do. I took care of some dead marigolds that were begging for a proper burial. I picked up the sidewalk chalk littering the concrete, and then I saw one of Maddie's sandbox toys in the grass. Thinking it a quick fix, I lifted her sandbox lid to toss it in, but was greeted, not with dry pebbles, but nasty sludge. Somehow, water had managed to infiltrate the barrier and the leaves that had already found haven were turning to a putrid muck. The decaying smell triggered memories of sandbox adventures with my brother. We'd mix berries and leaves in water and sand and concoct "remedies" and stews. But if we left them overnight, the next day they were a brownish slop of the most disgusting proportions.

As I started to scoop out the black-filmy water and dump the rotten leaves, God showed me that our hearts can be a lot like that sandbox. We think we have it covered-up, concealed from the outside, but the elements still get in there, effecting the ecosystem. If we don't open up the lid and let the sun dry it out, we'll start to see decay and fungal growth.

Maddie lost some sand in her box today because some of it needed to go. I had to get a lot of the water out, but I left the lid off so the sun can burn off the rest.

Sometimes when our boxes get dirty, the clean-up process is messy and painful, but it's necessary.

I am trying to open my heart up today. Honestly, it's not been very pretty lately. I've had some major temper issues and frustrations. I've been doubting and making assumptions... negative assumptions that is leading to some bitterness I need to scoop out right now before it promotes more sludge in my heart. And in a lot of these situations, I've put the lid over it, pretending I don't have a problem, pretending it's justified to keep it all in there. That it will just "go away" when it needs to. But it won't, not without God's help.

So, today, I'm leaving the lid off and letting the sun work.

Purpose in Suffering

Right now, my family is suffering through spiritual, physical, and emotional weights. We don't know all the answers, we're afraid, uncertain, and trying to maintain a right perspective. We know that God uses the difficult times--more than the cushy comfortable ones--to shape us. But it's uncomfortable at best, and downright scary most of the time--like a dark cloud hanging over our heads.

My dad is dealing with one of those dark clouds. Last time the doctor checked, he had bladder cancer. We are still praying for complete healing, but we don't know that God's answer will be yes. We're praying that the cancer is only in his bladder and hasn't spread elsewhere. We're praying that this fight is short and victorious. But we just don't know...

So, we have to hold onto what we do know.

We know that God is good. Even when "good" doesn't fit our finite definition. Or when the tapestry looks like a nonsensical mess, we have to trust his goodness.

Our purpose is not found in the sum of our "happy" experiences on this earth. Our life's purpose is found in sacrifice, loving, giving, spreading truth, glorifying God.

Sometimes God glorifies Himself most through our suffering.

And through our suffering, our faith is strengthened, our dependence on God deepens, and our perspective focuses... if we let it.

I'm one of the first to resist, especially if I feel like I can "regain" control and "fix" the struggle back to a comfortable situation. But that's not always God's desire. I read somewhere that if God's answer does seem to be changing, it could be because he is changing us instead. Not pretty. Not pleasant. And certainly something we want to avoid. But it can also be beautiful, humbling, and intimate time with God and family.

2 Corinthians 1:8-10 - Affliction taught Paul not to trust in himself, but in God. God has repeatedly allowed countries to face wars, famines, and hardships when they became independent and failed to trust Him. Often this shows people their need for God.

Romans 5:3-5 - Rejoice in tribulations because they work steadfastness, approvedness, and hope.

1 Peter 1:6,7 - As gold is purified by passing through fire, so the genuineness of our faith is proved by trials. If suffering was limited to sinners and Christians never suffered, all people would want to be Christians, not because they really loved God, but just to avoid earthly problems.

Psalm 34:19 - "Many are the afflictions of the righteous; but the Lord delivers him out of them all."

adapted from here