Maranatha (2) brought me her little Dora play phone yesterday and told me that her “daddy wan to talk you”.
I want to talk to him to! That has to be one of the most difficult phone conversations I’ve ever encountered. Her big brown eyes just watching me to see what I would do.
Oh my heart aches! Any time we were away from Daddy for an extended length of time we made sure the kids had a chance to talk to him on the phone. But I can’t just call him up and tell him we all miss him. I can’t end the conversation with a “We’ll see you soon!” I can’t give the kids a date and number of days as to when their Daddy will be back.
But we will see him again. I like to think that he’s helping God build our mansions.
I have to admit it. I am depressed. Lack of sleep gets me every time. In the midst of my depression I find myself grouching at the Lord. “I don’t want the job of giving You the glory. I’m tired of being an example of Your grace. Did You even ask me if I wanted to glorify You? If You want Your glory to shine through this measly little human, well, then you are going to have to take over her body today. I don’t want to help. I don’t want to fight sins battles today. I don’t want to do anything, I just want to go back to bed, cover my head and pretend that the world doesn’t exist.
I think He must have taken over, because I did get up, I did take care of my kids, I did face the world although I did protest a bit. He really can be very pushy.
Looking at these words I muse . . . “Looks like pride is attacking again. What makes me think that He needs my help?”
And the real problem emerges. I am trying to do it on my own again. He didn’t ask for my help, He wants to do it through me, not by me. Sorry Lord, let’s try this again.
Tonight I looked at a verse in Psalms that says “I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in him will I trust.” My tired mind said, “Yep, that’s right. I will trust Him to get me through this . . . “ Then my brain foggily protested the “get me through” part. All those bits and pieces of advice that say things like, “Life is a journey. . . The destination is only part of the trip . . . The end doesn’t justify the means . . .” came back to haunt me and I wondered just how much my brain has been warped, . . again. It seems to be easier for me to adjust to the idea of trusting God with things like waiting for the right man to show up, which college to choose, which house to buy, how to take care of this many kids, etc. But when the duties pile up, the list of important tasks gets longer than my arm, the pressures of multiple things demand my attention, then I have a problem trusting God to help me IN that situation, but rather I just want God to help me THROUGH that situation.
Stopping in the middle of a stress point to pray for help in that particular moment often eludes me. Even now I find myself just praying to survive the pain, -“Just get me through it Lord and then maybe we can do something important on the other side”- but it’s the journey through the pain where His glory shines the brightest. I should be asking for His help, not to just survive, but to shine in the midst of my trials.