At our house we have had an ongoing game that started when we first became parents 14 years ago... when our kids do something dumb or crazy or even something amazing we say, "Well, he/she gets that from.. mom/dad." Sometimes, it's a dig because they are being totally annoying, sometimes it's an observation of them reflecting our own "greatness" and sometimes it's one of us seeing the ugly reality of who we really are, through one of our kids.
Today, I posted a brag post on FB about my almost 13 year old son and the character that he has displayed through a dismal football season. I hesitated posting, but in the end I decided to give honor where honor is due, because he inspires me to be a better person.
It's real easy for people to look at that post and say something along the lines that "we must be doing something right" or something similar, so I wanted to write this post to clear that up.
HE GETS IT FROM HIS FATHER.
Every single time that my kids have had to struggle through hard situations I wanted to save them from the pain. I have raged at God when I had to sit and watch my kids go through things that I couldn't fix. I have asked Him to do it another way. I've asked him to turn down the fire, afraid that it would destroy their tender hearts. I can't tell you how many times I have asked, "WHY".
"Lord, why does it have to be this way? Why are you letting them go through these hard things, don't you see how tender they are? This is too hard." This is what my prayers have looked like.
I've cried with them and I've cried for them. I've questioned the plans of God for a long time.
Last night, I sat in the bleachers for the 16th time in two long years and watched him lose AGAIN. 13 losses. Some of the losses were so bad that I cried in the car after ward in discouragement and disappointment... not because they lost, but because he had given it all he had. Never once did I see him give up. Never once did he look at the scoreboard and quit. These two losing seasons have changed my son. He's a different person than the one who joined this team 2 years ago and I am humbled.
I am humbled because I know he didn't get that from me. He gets that from His Heavenly Father. All the things I begged Jesus to rescue my kids from were the very things that are making them the people they are.
You know what they get from me? A sinful nature. Selfishness, pride, impatience, anger issues, control issues and so much more. If he was like me he would give up when things were hard. He would cry and complain and pout. He would quit and say it's not worth it. If he was like me he would throw his hands up and say forget it...
But THANK GOD... he is NOT like me. He's better than me, because Jesus KNOWS better than I do. He knows exactly what my kids need. He knows the plans that He has for their lives and He is preparing them for those plans. Plans that include determination and endurance, plans that take faith and hope, plans that won't be easy. Plans to bring GLORY to GOD.
I could NEVER claim that any of the good things about them come from me. I know what kind of parent I have been. I know what kind of person I am. I know the mistakes I've made and I know the basket case I can be sometimes. I KNOW, that while I've been all over the place trying to figure myself out... God has been in the background working through hard situations to produce character in their lives.
That's why I decided to go ahead and post that brag post on FB today, because really it's a praise about a God. It's a praise to God that He takes a mess and makes a message. He's the God who allows hard things in our lives, because He loves us and He wants to produce fruit that will bring glory to Him. He wants to refine us in the fire and He knows just exactly what to use and how much pressure to apply to bring forth a vessel that He can use.
So, let me get out of the way and allow My Heavenly Father to do what only He can do because if there is anything good about my son... he gets it from His Father.
I'm not sure where you find yourself tonight... maybe you're a parent that's struggling with a wayward child, who has gotten into trouble... It's equally as tempting to beat yourself up and say it's all your fault. It's not. It's easy to get bogged down in discouragement and disappointment... but, friend lift up your head... you don't need to carry that load. I urge to leave that child in the Father's hand and be encouraged that's the best place for them. Remember, "God is ABLE to do EXCEEDINGLY ABUNDANTLY above all that we ask or think according to the power that works within us." Eph. 3:20
Maybe you're in a situation with your child that is breaking y your heart for them, as they walk through a painful season. Friend, lift up your head. Be encouraged that God works ALL things out for the good of those who love Him and who are called according to HIS purpose. Rest in knowing that God knows just how much fire they can handle.
Where ever you find your self tonight... Trust God, He is faithful.
Sunday, November 18, 2018
Wednesday, November 14, 2018
Cleaning Up My Mess
It's the sound that my nightmares are made of. The sound that every mother cringes and bites down a scream when they hear it. It's worse than the sound than the sound my eight year old makes when he's hurt, because I know that will just take a kiss and cuddle to make it right. It's the kind of sound that starts out my day with the worst sort of dread.
Just stepping out of the shower, wrapping a towel around my hair and checking out the new wrinkles and black circles under my eyes... I already feel tired when I think about what's coming today. I send up a quick prayer asking God for patience, maybe a little kindness and please help me not to yell at my kids. That's when I hear the sound that destroys any sense of calm... I know what I just heard, it's unmistakable, but while I quickly throw on my yoga pants and faded t-shirt, I lie to myself and say, "surely it's not, because someone would run in here and tell me what happened."
Swinging the bedroom door open, I step into an eerie silence. No running and screaming that normally fills the walls of my home, just quietness. Hope soars for one fleeting second and then I see him, standing in the kitchen, with the fridge door standing wide open. He's stuck in place, with a look of dread plastered on his face. Surrounded by a million pieces of glass, he has no where to go in his bare feet. Shattered glass covers the floor from one end of the kitchen to the other. I have no idea what he broke, but it must have been big.
Wanting him to recognize WHY this ALWAYS happens to him, I ask him how the glass broke into a million tiny pieces? My mind is screaming what, when, how, WHYYYYYYYY? Why do you do this all the time. My other kids jump on the opportunity to share the story of how the shattered glass has come about. It's at this moment that my thinly veiled rage reaches the breaking point. Why are they so gleeful when they are telling me what he did wrong? As if they never do this kind of thing. Why are they smirking? Why would they even open their mouths to share his mistake, when they have done the same thing so many times before. But, I know what it is... they're just glad it's not them this time.
The thing is, as much as I don't like the broken glass on the floor, I HATE the way the other three boys are rejoicing in the mishap of their brother. I HATE the way they take this chance to fill me in on what he did wrong. I HATE the way they LOVE to see someone else in the hot seat.
Walking back in my room, taking a few deep breaths to calm down, I put my contacts in so I can see the mess, which gives me a chance to not do too much damage with my words. It really doesn't matter why it happened or if he understand why he did this again. All that matters is he knows it's not the end of the world and mom will fix this.
When I come back out of my room there is no one in sight. They have all fled to safety. Somehow, he has extracted himself from the precarious situation. The fridge is still wide open, glass still covers the floor. He and I both know that only I can clean up this mess he's made. There is no way he could get all the glass. If it was a little spill, I would make him clean it up himself, but this is THE BIG ONE. It's in every corner, tiny little slivers are stuck in the grout, glass had somehow traveled all the way to the living room. Most of it is under the kitchen table and chairs. I will have to move everything out of the way to get it all. There are just some messes that a mom has to take care of.
While I'm sweeping up the glass, I see myself, stuck in the middle of a big mess of my own making. Surrounding by a sea of broken pieces, standing barefoot, with no way to escape. A mess that's so big I know I will never be able to do this on my own. In fact, I see a few messes that I'm made. Messes that I just can't clean up. Some of them are relational... I've hurt people and let them down. Some are physical that are the result of bad choices, some are financial. I see myself surrounded by the consequences of my choices and I feel stuck and overwhelmed.
While I'm cleaning up my son's mess I see clearly the truth of my situation... I've made a mess I can't clean up. On my own I'm stuck in it, somehow lacking what it takes to get the job done. My Father (who is nothing like me) gently asks me what happened. I struggle through my explanation, knowing He sees the truth... It happened because I was in a hurry. I was impatient to get what I wanted. I didn't take the time I needed to carefully move a few things out of the way. I just snatched at the thing I wanted and in the process I knocked over something and broke it into a million little pieces.
He doesn't have to say anything. I know it's my fault and to make things worse, we both know that I've done this before. We both know that I should have learned by now what causes this to happen again and again. With my head hung in shame for doing this again, I don't see Him take the step towards me. I'm not sure what to expect this time. Will He leave me here in this mess? Or will He help me again? With broom in hand, He tells me to go on so He can sweep up the mess. Relief washes over me, knowing that the next time I come down to the kitchen it will be as good as new. There will be no evidence of THE BIG ONE, everything will be made right. Only the memory will be left.
The memory of me standing in the kitchen, watching with dread as the glass hit the floor, the sound of millions of tiny pieces bouncing in a hundred different directions. The memory of my Father stepping in to fix what I have broken. The memory of the grace that He has shown me time after time.
Hopefully, we will won't do this again, but both of us (my son and I) know it will most likely happen again. We have a way of getting ourselves in messy situations. Hopefully, we will learn NOT to do this or that and then again, probably not. One thing we will learn for sure is sometimes we make messes too big to clean up and while we run off and try to forget about what just happened, there's someone bigger, stronger and smarter than us sweeping up the kitchen, making sure every trace is gone.
"Have mercy upon me, O God, according to Your loving kindness; According to the multitude of Your tender mercies, blot out my transgressions. Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sins." Words of David, after his sin with Bathsheba.
David's Psalm of repentance is filled with the most beautiful words ever recorded. David's confidence before God, in spite of his terrible sin, and his assurance that in the presence of God there is forgiveness, grace and mercy, have comforted my soul a 1000 times since the day I started following Jesus. Like David I have sinned greatly against the Lord. I have made messes that looked hopeless, BUT through the pages of scripture I see that His mercy is new every day. I see that nothing can separate me from the love of God. I see that God so loved that world that He sent His only Son to clean up the messes that we have all made of our lives. I see that the wages of my sin was death and eternal separation from God, but that He offered me another way. I see LOVE that covers all my sin.
Friend, I don't what mess you find yourself mired in today, but I know a God, who says:
"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, and I will forgive their sin and heal their land." 2 Chronicles 7:14
and... "Come to me, all you who are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." Matthew 11:28
and... "Therefore humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you in due time, CASTING all your cares on Him, for He cares for you." I Peter 5:6-7
So, hand the broom over and step out of the way. Recognize it's too big for you to fix. Humbly take your broken heart to God, hand him all the pieces and trust Him to make all things new. Knowing this... ALL things work together for the good of those who love God and who are called according to His purpose...
I hate that I do this again and again, but His love for me is never more evident than when He's cleaning up my mess.
Just stepping out of the shower, wrapping a towel around my hair and checking out the new wrinkles and black circles under my eyes... I already feel tired when I think about what's coming today. I send up a quick prayer asking God for patience, maybe a little kindness and please help me not to yell at my kids. That's when I hear the sound that destroys any sense of calm... I know what I just heard, it's unmistakable, but while I quickly throw on my yoga pants and faded t-shirt, I lie to myself and say, "surely it's not, because someone would run in here and tell me what happened."
Swinging the bedroom door open, I step into an eerie silence. No running and screaming that normally fills the walls of my home, just quietness. Hope soars for one fleeting second and then I see him, standing in the kitchen, with the fridge door standing wide open. He's stuck in place, with a look of dread plastered on his face. Surrounded by a million pieces of glass, he has no where to go in his bare feet. Shattered glass covers the floor from one end of the kitchen to the other. I have no idea what he broke, but it must have been big.
Wanting him to recognize WHY this ALWAYS happens to him, I ask him how the glass broke into a million tiny pieces? My mind is screaming what, when, how, WHYYYYYYYY? Why do you do this all the time. My other kids jump on the opportunity to share the story of how the shattered glass has come about. It's at this moment that my thinly veiled rage reaches the breaking point. Why are they so gleeful when they are telling me what he did wrong? As if they never do this kind of thing. Why are they smirking? Why would they even open their mouths to share his mistake, when they have done the same thing so many times before. But, I know what it is... they're just glad it's not them this time.
The thing is, as much as I don't like the broken glass on the floor, I HATE the way the other three boys are rejoicing in the mishap of their brother. I HATE the way they take this chance to fill me in on what he did wrong. I HATE the way they LOVE to see someone else in the hot seat.
Walking back in my room, taking a few deep breaths to calm down, I put my contacts in so I can see the mess, which gives me a chance to not do too much damage with my words. It really doesn't matter why it happened or if he understand why he did this again. All that matters is he knows it's not the end of the world and mom will fix this.
When I come back out of my room there is no one in sight. They have all fled to safety. Somehow, he has extracted himself from the precarious situation. The fridge is still wide open, glass still covers the floor. He and I both know that only I can clean up this mess he's made. There is no way he could get all the glass. If it was a little spill, I would make him clean it up himself, but this is THE BIG ONE. It's in every corner, tiny little slivers are stuck in the grout, glass had somehow traveled all the way to the living room. Most of it is under the kitchen table and chairs. I will have to move everything out of the way to get it all. There are just some messes that a mom has to take care of.
While I'm sweeping up the glass, I see myself, stuck in the middle of a big mess of my own making. Surrounding by a sea of broken pieces, standing barefoot, with no way to escape. A mess that's so big I know I will never be able to do this on my own. In fact, I see a few messes that I'm made. Messes that I just can't clean up. Some of them are relational... I've hurt people and let them down. Some are physical that are the result of bad choices, some are financial. I see myself surrounded by the consequences of my choices and I feel stuck and overwhelmed.
While I'm cleaning up my son's mess I see clearly the truth of my situation... I've made a mess I can't clean up. On my own I'm stuck in it, somehow lacking what it takes to get the job done. My Father (who is nothing like me) gently asks me what happened. I struggle through my explanation, knowing He sees the truth... It happened because I was in a hurry. I was impatient to get what I wanted. I didn't take the time I needed to carefully move a few things out of the way. I just snatched at the thing I wanted and in the process I knocked over something and broke it into a million little pieces.
He doesn't have to say anything. I know it's my fault and to make things worse, we both know that I've done this before. We both know that I should have learned by now what causes this to happen again and again. With my head hung in shame for doing this again, I don't see Him take the step towards me. I'm not sure what to expect this time. Will He leave me here in this mess? Or will He help me again? With broom in hand, He tells me to go on so He can sweep up the mess. Relief washes over me, knowing that the next time I come down to the kitchen it will be as good as new. There will be no evidence of THE BIG ONE, everything will be made right. Only the memory will be left.
The memory of me standing in the kitchen, watching with dread as the glass hit the floor, the sound of millions of tiny pieces bouncing in a hundred different directions. The memory of my Father stepping in to fix what I have broken. The memory of the grace that He has shown me time after time.
Hopefully, we will won't do this again, but both of us (my son and I) know it will most likely happen again. We have a way of getting ourselves in messy situations. Hopefully, we will learn NOT to do this or that and then again, probably not. One thing we will learn for sure is sometimes we make messes too big to clean up and while we run off and try to forget about what just happened, there's someone bigger, stronger and smarter than us sweeping up the kitchen, making sure every trace is gone.
"Have mercy upon me, O God, according to Your loving kindness; According to the multitude of Your tender mercies, blot out my transgressions. Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sins." Words of David, after his sin with Bathsheba.
David's Psalm of repentance is filled with the most beautiful words ever recorded. David's confidence before God, in spite of his terrible sin, and his assurance that in the presence of God there is forgiveness, grace and mercy, have comforted my soul a 1000 times since the day I started following Jesus. Like David I have sinned greatly against the Lord. I have made messes that looked hopeless, BUT through the pages of scripture I see that His mercy is new every day. I see that nothing can separate me from the love of God. I see that God so loved that world that He sent His only Son to clean up the messes that we have all made of our lives. I see that the wages of my sin was death and eternal separation from God, but that He offered me another way. I see LOVE that covers all my sin.
Friend, I don't what mess you find yourself mired in today, but I know a God, who says:
"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, and I will forgive their sin and heal their land." 2 Chronicles 7:14
and... "Come to me, all you who are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." Matthew 11:28
and... "Therefore humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you in due time, CASTING all your cares on Him, for He cares for you." I Peter 5:6-7
So, hand the broom over and step out of the way. Recognize it's too big for you to fix. Humbly take your broken heart to God, hand him all the pieces and trust Him to make all things new. Knowing this... ALL things work together for the good of those who love God and who are called according to His purpose...
I hate that I do this again and again, but His love for me is never more evident than when He's cleaning up my mess.
Tuesday, November 13, 2018
Passing the Test
Sitting at the messy kitchen table, covered in books, pencils, and lunch plates with half-eaten turkey sandwiches, sending up a silent prayer that I will have the patience to handle the next few minutes. It's the worst part of my day... math time. Today, is the worst of all days though. It's test time. I have to hand it to them this time, there are no tears yet, just snippy comments and eye rolls. The test is 4 pages long and contains everything we have been learning for the last few months. Today is the day to see what they really know.
Oh, the things I have seen on test day. One of my children would kill me, if I told you about the temper tantrums that have been thrown over math. The tears, the frustration, the feeling of defeat that they would NEVER get this was the biggest land mine that we have had to learn how to avoid.
I have to be honest and say that half of the problem is that I am NOT a math teacher. I struggled with math in school and I would go back and kick my stupid teenage self and tell her to pay attention, because the question "when are you ever gonna use this" has now been answered. I'm gonna use it every day of my life, because now I have to teach 5 kids how to do it.
I've been summoned over to the table and invited to sit in between my two oldest kids and "help" them with a problem or 10. They made it through the first few pages without too much struggle, but those two pages were filled with equations they are now pretty comfortable with. The last 2 pages are filled with word problems, that have 3 or 4 parts to solve and even though we've been working on it for a week or so, it's still hasn't stuck.
The test is where I find out what they really know and what each one is having a little trouble with, sometimes it's where I realize they don't know it at all and it's time to go back and practice that a little more. The important thing isn't that they could do the work each day as we practiced it... the important thing is that they know it enough to be tested.
CAN YOU PASS THE TEST?
Listening to my kids grumble about how "math is stupid" and "why do we even have to do this" and "who cares, we won't ever use this in real life" and "Mom, it's TOO HARD", I think about how I've acted lately when I've been tested. I've been doing a lot of eye-rolling, foot-stomping and crying in frustration because, "WHY, do I have to go through this?", "WHY do I even need to know this? Haven't I do enough practice already?"
Listening to my kids gripe and complain and cry about math has given me the chance to see myself from my Father's perspective. Having already completed my school experience I know what's coming in the next few years. I know that what they are doing right now is a stepping stone that only leads to another stepping stone and one day they will be working math equations that look more like Spanish than math. They will think back to this stuff and remember how easy it was. I know they have to get this today or they will be clueless in the future. I know that what they are doing in math today is nothing compared to what they are going to be doing in the years to come. I also know that we can NOT move on until they get it enough to pass the test.
I know there's a big difference between knowing something, being able to do it at in any time or any circumstance and just kinda sorta thinking you might know it. So, being the faithful Father that He is, God will patiently sit with me and help me learn this lesson until I get it. Then He will test me to see if I really get it. Then He will sit down with me and go over what I got right and what I missed. Later, He will probably test me again to see if I really get it. It might take me a while, but He doesn't mind that. I might cry and complain and say I can't do it, but He knows better. I might stomp and have a temper tantrum, but He's too faithful to let me stay in that place for long.
One day last week when I was having a really crappy day and getting pretty frustrated with the circumstances in my life, angry with God for holding out on an answer to prayers that I felt like I had been praying for too long... a friend text asking how I was doing. I truthfully answered her question with a mile long text, unloading on her all my frustrations and fears. I told her how I had just been thinking about just taking care of this situation on my own and forget waiting around on God. I'm sure she rolled her eyes on the other end of the line, thinking about all the things we have been learning about faith in Bible study, and how easily I would throw my hands up in surrender. Being a good friend she reminded that sometimes God's answers take a while, but He is faithful to answer them.
Later, that night, after waking from a dream I had a few words from a verse that I vaguely remembered whispering through my mind... something about faith being testing and being more valuable than gold. Reaching for my phone, of course I googled the few words "faith more valuable" and up popped I Peter 1:-7, tapping on the first link that came up, I read the verses and cried.
"You rejoice in this, even though for a short time, if necessary, you suffer grief in various trials, SO THAT THE PROVEN CHARACTER OF YOUR FAITH- MORE VALUABLE THAN GOLD, which though perishable, is REFINED BY FIRE- May result in praise, glory, and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ." I Peter 1:6-7
To be honest... I don't want my faith tested. I don't want to be refined by fire. I don't want to suffer (in any regard). I want my life to be exactly the way I want it to be. I want money in the bank, kids that listen, days that are peaceful, friends that make me laugh and can hang out on a regular basis, I want a marriage that takes no work, I want comfort and ease, I want plenty and popularity, I want people to love me and never be mad at me. I want my life to be completely stress free. I have realized that one thing I really don't like more than all others is having to trust an invisible God with my life. Faith is so completely out of my character. I want CONTROL. I want to fix. I want answers and I want them to come easily. I don't want to have to learn news things. I don't want to keep working on a problem til I get it.
It's taking a really long time for me to understand that control is an illusion. There is just too much I don't know for me to be the god and queen of my own life. Even though I fight Him tooth and nail and kick and scream and stomp to my room, yelling that I will never be able to do this... He is faithful. He won't let me have my own way... because it's no good for me.
So, He will sit with me and patiently walk me through the problem again. He will work with me day after day, until one day I have an "ah ha" moment. He will help me and encourage me and tell me why it's important and he will remind me of how far I've come. He will hold me when I cry. He will refute the lie that I can't do it. One day I will know with absolute certainty how proud He is of me for staying at it, even when I wanted to quit, because to Him my faith is more valuable than gold.
Through the years I will be tested on this thing again... and there will be harder things down the road. There will be new lessons to learn and their will be many more tests, of this I am sure... because the proof that I really know it will only show when I am able to pass the test.
"Now FAITH is the REALITY of what is hoped for, THE PROOF of what is not see." Hebrews 11:1
Oh, the things I have seen on test day. One of my children would kill me, if I told you about the temper tantrums that have been thrown over math. The tears, the frustration, the feeling of defeat that they would NEVER get this was the biggest land mine that we have had to learn how to avoid.
I have to be honest and say that half of the problem is that I am NOT a math teacher. I struggled with math in school and I would go back and kick my stupid teenage self and tell her to pay attention, because the question "when are you ever gonna use this" has now been answered. I'm gonna use it every day of my life, because now I have to teach 5 kids how to do it.
I've been summoned over to the table and invited to sit in between my two oldest kids and "help" them with a problem or 10. They made it through the first few pages without too much struggle, but those two pages were filled with equations they are now pretty comfortable with. The last 2 pages are filled with word problems, that have 3 or 4 parts to solve and even though we've been working on it for a week or so, it's still hasn't stuck.
The test is where I find out what they really know and what each one is having a little trouble with, sometimes it's where I realize they don't know it at all and it's time to go back and practice that a little more. The important thing isn't that they could do the work each day as we practiced it... the important thing is that they know it enough to be tested.
CAN YOU PASS THE TEST?
Listening to my kids grumble about how "math is stupid" and "why do we even have to do this" and "who cares, we won't ever use this in real life" and "Mom, it's TOO HARD", I think about how I've acted lately when I've been tested. I've been doing a lot of eye-rolling, foot-stomping and crying in frustration because, "WHY, do I have to go through this?", "WHY do I even need to know this? Haven't I do enough practice already?"
Listening to my kids gripe and complain and cry about math has given me the chance to see myself from my Father's perspective. Having already completed my school experience I know what's coming in the next few years. I know that what they are doing right now is a stepping stone that only leads to another stepping stone and one day they will be working math equations that look more like Spanish than math. They will think back to this stuff and remember how easy it was. I know they have to get this today or they will be clueless in the future. I know that what they are doing in math today is nothing compared to what they are going to be doing in the years to come. I also know that we can NOT move on until they get it enough to pass the test.
I know there's a big difference between knowing something, being able to do it at in any time or any circumstance and just kinda sorta thinking you might know it. So, being the faithful Father that He is, God will patiently sit with me and help me learn this lesson until I get it. Then He will test me to see if I really get it. Then He will sit down with me and go over what I got right and what I missed. Later, He will probably test me again to see if I really get it. It might take me a while, but He doesn't mind that. I might cry and complain and say I can't do it, but He knows better. I might stomp and have a temper tantrum, but He's too faithful to let me stay in that place for long.
One day last week when I was having a really crappy day and getting pretty frustrated with the circumstances in my life, angry with God for holding out on an answer to prayers that I felt like I had been praying for too long... a friend text asking how I was doing. I truthfully answered her question with a mile long text, unloading on her all my frustrations and fears. I told her how I had just been thinking about just taking care of this situation on my own and forget waiting around on God. I'm sure she rolled her eyes on the other end of the line, thinking about all the things we have been learning about faith in Bible study, and how easily I would throw my hands up in surrender. Being a good friend she reminded that sometimes God's answers take a while, but He is faithful to answer them.
Later, that night, after waking from a dream I had a few words from a verse that I vaguely remembered whispering through my mind... something about faith being testing and being more valuable than gold. Reaching for my phone, of course I googled the few words "faith more valuable" and up popped I Peter 1:-7, tapping on the first link that came up, I read the verses and cried.
"You rejoice in this, even though for a short time, if necessary, you suffer grief in various trials, SO THAT THE PROVEN CHARACTER OF YOUR FAITH- MORE VALUABLE THAN GOLD, which though perishable, is REFINED BY FIRE- May result in praise, glory, and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ." I Peter 1:6-7
To be honest... I don't want my faith tested. I don't want to be refined by fire. I don't want to suffer (in any regard). I want my life to be exactly the way I want it to be. I want money in the bank, kids that listen, days that are peaceful, friends that make me laugh and can hang out on a regular basis, I want a marriage that takes no work, I want comfort and ease, I want plenty and popularity, I want people to love me and never be mad at me. I want my life to be completely stress free. I have realized that one thing I really don't like more than all others is having to trust an invisible God with my life. Faith is so completely out of my character. I want CONTROL. I want to fix. I want answers and I want them to come easily. I don't want to have to learn news things. I don't want to keep working on a problem til I get it.
It's taking a really long time for me to understand that control is an illusion. There is just too much I don't know for me to be the god and queen of my own life. Even though I fight Him tooth and nail and kick and scream and stomp to my room, yelling that I will never be able to do this... He is faithful. He won't let me have my own way... because it's no good for me.
So, He will sit with me and patiently walk me through the problem again. He will work with me day after day, until one day I have an "ah ha" moment. He will help me and encourage me and tell me why it's important and he will remind me of how far I've come. He will hold me when I cry. He will refute the lie that I can't do it. One day I will know with absolute certainty how proud He is of me for staying at it, even when I wanted to quit, because to Him my faith is more valuable than gold.
Through the years I will be tested on this thing again... and there will be harder things down the road. There will be new lessons to learn and their will be many more tests, of this I am sure... because the proof that I really know it will only show when I am able to pass the test.
"Now FAITH is the REALITY of what is hoped for, THE PROOF of what is not see." Hebrews 11:1
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