Flesh wound

My relationship with Christ has been strained in the past couple years.  I've written about it here and prayed about it for such a long time.  God never changes, right?  So I knew it was me who was the guilty party in our relationship.  I even told a girlfriend that I was considering going to a counselor but what I really needed was the equivalent of a marriage counselor for my relationship with Christ.  They don't really have those around, ya know?  While I was talking with her I began to sob.  Ya see, God had brought a person across my path that week who was concerned about why I hadn't been worshiping in church on Sunday mornings.  I got upset and felt like it was none of her business though I didn't tell this senior saint any such thing.  Promise.  But God used her because I was griping about this chic to anyone who stood still, calling her a meddler and everything.  Then it was rising to the surface, suddenly I began to feel like a zit that was about to explode.  And you know honestly?, they can be messy.  So here it came.  I was a mess.  I talked about how angry and frustrated I was getting with myself because I couldn't seem to move on from that time in my life.  And it was debilitating to me.  This girlfriend by God's sweet grace just listened and let me talk.  It was so helpful to me.  I talked about how confused I was about the house we'd purchased because the decision had been bathed in prayer.  I shared about our finances and how we'd saved all this money only to lose it plus so much more between the buying process and then the sale one year later.  She began to talk about how maybe, just maybe, God wanted us to have the experience of the house.  And maybe He wanted us to walk that path to allow us to go through growth and subsequent changes of heart regarding many things.  I heard her, I heard God talking through her and I knew she was right.  Too many wonderful things came out of that season for me to be angry or bitter any longer.  I could see beauty from ashes and could feel God's love and forgiveness for my withdrawing from Him.  But the sweetest things from that day were God showing me a picture of a large Valentine's type heart and there was the wee little splinter in the upper right side on the surface of the heart...like I could take tweezers and pull it away.  It wasn't a deep wound, it was right on the surface, oh how that blesses me still.  And the second thing was that I could not wait to get back to church on Sunday morning.  Couldn't wait to worship with the body of Christ my Lord and Savior who had ransomed Himself for my many sins.  The weight of His sacrifice was new to me again and I give thanks and gratitude to my Lord for putting up with me, for being my Savior and for loving me like no one else ever can.

The Surfboard

There are times when I feel very blessed to get to experience motherhood.  I'd love to shout it from the rooftops (aka Facebook) but I am tenderly aware of friends who are struggling with infertility and may not have the same experience I've been blessed with.  So I'll tell you about my sweet season here.  I have long entertained the idea that as a mother I see myself as the surfboard and my children as the surfers.  I consider it an honor and privilege to help these children become the man and woman of God that our Lord has called them to be.

My daughter is very similar to me.  I see it all the time, from the way she turns into a pile of mush when something moves her, to how cheesy she can be and then also how strong willed she is.  It used to aggravate me to no end, but now I see she helps me to love myself.  This past week she decided to take on running for an SCA office, Vice President to be exact.  Now this isn't something I would've done...I would've wanted to, but I didn't have the confidence to put myself out there like she has.  Last week we got her speech written, made campaign posters and practiced that speech over and over again.  Today was go time for her and 23 other young hopefuls who wanted to fill the five available officer slots.  I could not have been more proud of my daughter.  She got up there and said her speech.  She talked about loving soccer, horses, art and worshipping Jesus at church with her family. Tears just fell.  I couldn't believe how I felt in that moment.  So proud of her, so happy for her.  This child is confident.  She knows what she likes and isn't trying to alter herself for anyone.  At the age of 38 I'm just now getting there.  At the age of nine this child is so much cleaner and healthier than I am, it blesses me so much. 

So she didn't win.  There were eight children wanting the same position and a sweet young boy took the title today.  Bridget was initially very disappointed and sad.  I was in her classroom for her year end party (there are no coincidences with God) when all the candidates were summoned to the library to learn of the results.  I saw on her face that she wanted to cry but didn't.  I offered to take her home 10 minutes early thinking she could have a cry and compose herself before her brother and the young girl who comes over everyday got off the bus. I whispered to her brother that she didn't win and he sweetly gave her the best hug and said he was sorry.  The young lady who had struggled for days about who she was going to vote for?  She said very sweetly to my daughter 'I voted for you, you need to know that'.  Off they went to play not to be mentioned again until bedtime during prayers.  She felt like she'd prayed about it so much, so shouldn't she have won?  I stifled a laugh because I was there for a long time, but just told her that God always knows what's best for us. 

I'm so thankful for days like this one.  I am exhausted, I mean done.  But it's one of the most satisfying days of my life as a parent.