In saying this, please know that I know He speaks in many ways. Through songs, friends, the Bible, watching others lives...
And sometimes, when I'm silently struggling with something, He will speak to me in a way only He can. There's a chance He's tried other ways this week. And alongside that chance is the chance that I haven't heard him. So then he lets my life experiences (that I will share with you shortly) speak boldly what He wants to say.
Enter: Scenario that happened mere hours ago. I'll set this up for you. We're going to St. Louis for my MIL (Donna)'s Bday. We rented a (somewhat large) SUV in order to all fit comfy with her O2 machine. It was a sweet ride, though I do love my little Ruby Fuego (Ford)...she's so cute!
D was in the backseat with the O2 machine and his DVD player. That means we have time to jam and talk amongst ourselves as adults.
Enter 8:45 p.m. We were 45-50 minutes from home, and D just starts wailing. Now, my child is not a cryer. (For which we are all grateful...I could not handle a cryer, though I've been told by my parental units that I was quite the cryer; And I've been told by the hubster that I am quite the cryer even still.)
I digress...
So D's wailing. Mind you, we've stopped naps (a story for another day), and so our little man gets quite cranky after 8, and this is why we almost never have him to bed late. At first, my mind is saying, "Something's wrong with your baby boy. Fix it." Then the logic kicks in that it is, indeed, after 8 p.m., we've had a long day doing out-of-the-norm activities, driving a very large vehicle that is also out-of-the-norm.
He has decided that his legs hurt. (I know, right?!) Really?
I tend to not be a very compassionate person. So I'm saying, "Sweetie, this is not something we cry over." Usually that stops the crying. Not today. :-( So then I try other things. ("We're almost home," "Momma will rub your legs when we get home," "I'm sorry you're hurting, but you need to stop crying.") Nothing. Nada. Zilch.
Finally, Daddy turns around, turns lights on, and compassionately hands him tissues for his face, which is covered in tears, snot, and slobber. Kindly telling him to stop crying, for fear of him drowing in tears, the need to dry his sweet face and not get it wet again, and suddenly, my boy is okay. He also told him he was sure that my little guy was tired, and that if he wanted to sleep, we'd get him in his bed safely very soon.
Needless to say, D was out in less than 2 minutes.
Three things, people: 1) I have an amazing husband and dad-da to my kiddo. 2) No matter what we said, it didn't stop the wailing. All my little guy needed was a little attention and logic. 3) When you bombard my child with new surroundings, different schedules/routines (even if they're fun), it's still a little scary.
Enter: Analogy. (I just know you've all been dying for this part...get to the point, Joslyn!)
I'm sure, in my Father's eyes, I have been that 4 year old 3 seats back in a big ol' Yukon wailing. After all, all I want is a sweet smelling baby to hold, 100 lbs to be gone, magically be closer to my family, financial stability, and a few minutes to myself each day. That's not so much to ask.
But here I am, swimming in a sea of people birthing children (both good parents and those who may not deserve to have babies). I see fit people all around me, wishing I could wish myself fit, but knowing this will be a lifelong journey. I see some who have family so close who don't bother to see them, while my nephew has major surgery this week, and I am unable to be there. There are people who seem to just fly by financially, even without realizing what they have. And I just feel like I can breath if I just have a few minutes to myself. (Sometimes I really do get that. Sometimes I even get an hour or two.)
Please understand, I am not jealous or envious in my heart over these things. They are just the cries of my heart....the things I just want (right) now.
And my Savior sweetly whispered to me today, as I was agonizing over how to soothe my wailing 4 year old: "You are trying to see the big picture through the rear-view mirror." See...I could see D wailing in the rear-view mirror. I could see the tears streaming down his sweet face. And I was helpless. In steps a soothing voice that hands napkins back to my boy and whispers some humorous logic, and it's all better. Simple.
I can not do anything about the things that are the cries of my heart in this moment. But the Savior sweetly whispers His truths deep inside my soul:
Be still, and know that I am God. (Psalm 46:10)
If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven... (2 Chron. 7:14)
Take delight in the LORD, and he will give you the desires of your heart. (Psalm 37:4)
Cast your cares on the LORD and he will sustain you; he will never let the righteous be shaken. (Psalm 55:22)
Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you. (1 Peter 5:7)
He will take care of me. He knows (and hears) the cries of my heart. He knows. He is God. He will not let me be shaken. He cares.
I can relax. Most things are out of my control. My Heavenly Father hands me tissues to dry my wet eyes, willing me to see beyond myself....giving me permission to rest...using Truths and logic to sooth my soul.
He gently reminds me that He sees the big picture...I don't need to. {Thank you, Abba Father.}
No comments:
Post a Comment