I feel fragile this week. There have been wonderful moments, like Ryan’s birthday, and our train field trip with Master’s Kids. SO much to be thankful for. And I am thankful…thoughtful…it has just been one of those weeks when tears are close by, and Eeyeore’s little rain cloud seems to be right there over my head, no matter which way I turn. I don’t usually blog when I’m feeling sad…if I’ve had a hard day, I’ll wait until it’s over with and I’m a little more balanced. But it’s Friday (almost Saturday), and that “balance” hasn’t come quite yet. So I thought I would just go ahead and practice being vulnerable by opening up to my blog readers about where I am right now. There’s a part of me that is afraid to publish this post. What is so hard for me seems small in comparison to the trials of others, and I don’t want to be a drama queen. But for a reason that only God knows, this is my trial. Maybe I’ll publish this and then delete it later. But for now…
Here’s what contributed to “fragile”:
Earlier this week, “Miss Lori” on PBS Kids was asking the kid tv viewers if they had little brothers or sisters. I was in the kitchen, but I heard Jack answer, “No, but I weely weely want to have one.”
That made my heart hurt.
Sometimes, even when my brain knows what is true about God– about His goodness, His timing, His perfect plan…even when I know what is true about my life– that I am blessed beyond what I deserve in the gift of salvation and the hope of heaven, that I have an incredible husband, a sweet son, wonderful family and friends…even then it is hard. Hard to wait for something my heart desires. Something that is a GOOD thing. Something that seems so easy for so many people. And it is hard to fight off the lies that threaten to seep in…lies that say that God doesn’t care…that he forgot…
Below is something I read that reminded me of the good nature of trials. Without them I would be “cold, worldly, and unspiritual.” But through them I am learning. Learning to love God’s ways more than mine. Learning that this trial, this pain, isn’t a mistake, but is God’s way of drawing me closer to Him…making me more and more dependent on Him. These truths are what I’m clinging to, even when the feelings aren’t there…even when it hurts. My grip feels weak, but I’m clinging as hard as I can and trusting that God won’t let me go.
“The Ministry of Comfort”
(J. R. Miller, 1898)
“Before I was afflicted I went astray–but
now I keep Your word.” Psalm 119:67
Most of us need the chastening of affliction.
Pain is a wonderful revealer. It teaches us many
things we never could have known, if we had
not been called to endure it. It opens windows
through which we see, as we never saw before
–the beautiful things of God’s love.
Many of the finest things in character, are the
fruits of pain. Many a Christian enters trial–cold,
worldly, unspiritual–and emerges from the
experience a little later, with spirit softened,
mellowed, and spiritually enriched.
Sanctified afflictions soften the harshness and
sharpness of one’s character. They consume the
dross of selfishness and worldliness. They humble
pride. They temper carnal ambitions. They quell
fierce passions. They show to us the evil of our
own heart, revealing our weaknesses, faults, and
blemishes–and making us aware of our spiritual
danger. They discipline the wayward spirit.
Sorrow draws its sharp ploughshare through the
heart, cutting deep and long furrows–and the
heavenly Sower follows with the seeds of godly
virtues. Then by and by, fruits of righteousness
Sorrow has a tenderizing influence. It makes us
gentle and kindly toward each other. In no other
school, do our hearts learn the lessons of patience,
tolerance, and forbearance so quickly–as in the
school of suffering.
“It was good for me to be afflicted–so that
I could learn Your statutes.” Psalm 119:71