Be Still My Soul

Are you facing a situation where you felt truly defeated and maybe even a bit hopeless?

Day after day … month after month … year after year …

You have prayed, wept, read and applied the truth in God’s word, dealt with your own sin and shortcomings, sought Godly counsel, and applied said counsel time and time again…

And while God has changed you in the process and the gratitude within you cannot be feigned, you find the burden of the situation continuing to bring sorrow after sorrow.

Hopelessness begins to settle over your heart like a dark cloud and the tears in your eyes like its teetering raindrops.

What hope have we as believers when the trials of life seem overwhelming?  What should our response be as followers of the Christ who Himself bore sorrow after sorrow on our behalf?

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I stared at the waters as I walked alongside the lake near my home.  The clouds overhead were gray and dense as their rain droplets threatened to fall.  To a certain degree, my thoughts were just as heavy and pensive as I pondered and prayed and yet, I couldn’t help but notice the peaceful stillness of the water beside me.

A familiar passage of Scripture stirred in my heart and I began to softly murmur the words King David penned so long ago in what we now know as Psalm 23 …

“He makes me lie down in green pastures;
He leads me beside quiet waters.
He restores my soul;
He guides me in the paths of righteousness
For His name’s sake.”

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I gazed over the stillness of the lake as the words, “He leads me beside the quiet waters. He restores my soul.” echoed as a gentle and grounding reminder to look to Him for strength for each challenge,
healing for each sorrow, and rest for the weariness.

 

 

As I continued along, an old hymn rose from the memories of my past and awoke a melody in my spirit as some of the words whispered through my mind …

“Be still, my soul: the Lord is on your side;
bear patiently the cross of grief or pain;
leave to your God to order and provide;
in ev’ry change he faithful will remain.
Be still, my soul: your best, your heav’nly Friend
through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.”

Sometimes I love when the Lord does this and sometimes … I am not as pleased.

I want Him to do something.  I am weary of this situation in my life and I am weary of walking through it alone.  This time as I prayed, I wanted a firm reassurance that He was going to do something.  I wanted a sign from heaven that my life would somehow become easier.

Instead, I heard, ‘Be still.’

I heard, ‘Bear patiently the cross of grief and pain.’

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Tiny raindrops began to fall from the sky as my walk was nearing the end.  Whether my face was damp from those raindrops or the ones from my eyes, I do not know.

But perhaps you will read with me another verse from this hymn and consider how these words point us to our true hope in the storms of life …

 “Be still, my soul: your God will undertake
to guide the future as he has the past.
Your hope, your confidence let nothing shake;
all now mysterious shall be bright at last.
Be still, my soul: the waves and winds still know
his voice who ruled them while he dwelt below.”

Not much is known of the writer of this hymn, aside from her name, that she was born in 1697, and that she seemed to have lived a mostly solitary life in a religious convent. These words, her only hymn to be translated into the English language, remind us to focus our minds and hearts on the God who has proven Himself faithful in the past and who continues to guide us in all of our tomorrows.  We are reminded to let nothing in this life shake our confidence, and yes, even our hope, in His love and care.

Even when we do not understand, He is good.

Be still my soul.

 

Sometimes we want things we were not meant to have.
Because He loves us, the Father says no.
Faith is willing not to have what God is not willing to give.
Furthermore, faith does not insist upon an explanation.
It is enough to know His promises to give what is good – 
He knows so much more about us than we do.
~Elisabeth Elliott~

 

 

*Be Still my Soul ~ written by Kathrina von Schlegel (hymnary.org)

Tracing His Rainbow Through the Rain

I entered my morning of meetings somewhat cautiously, nervous about the things we would be discussing and unsure of what lies ahead for my son.

My oldest child is severely impacted with autism and he attends a private autism school almost an hour from our home.  On this particular morning, I had many questions as his teachers and I discussed the progress of this past year and the changes in store for the year(s) ahead.

My son is 18 years old and typically young people this age would have graduated high school earlier this year and would be getting ready for college, trade school, or the workforce.  But given the extent of his autism and the depth of his needs, my son will continue in his present school setting until the age of 21.

I would be lying if I told you I was completely okay with this.

I would be lying if I told you that watching his neuro-typical peers graduate high school, have beautiful senior pictures taken, attend prom, and be recognized for their achievements didn’t stir any sadness at all in me.

I would also be lying if I said I was completely unfazed by the ones presently heading off to college and new adventures.

I have been troubled, but I have hidden it.  I wouldn’t even allow myself to think about it over these last months. I told myself it was just one more milestone that is triggering a sense of grief but, because I felt guilty for the sadness and didn’t want to invite any pity, I blocked it.

Yet, on this day, as families around us were taking their children for their first year of college, I was sitting in meetings discussing medication, significant behavioral issues, basic first grade math and reading skills, another year of school, and a very uncertain (i.e. frightening/unknown) future for my eighteen year old … and I was torn.

I felt torn as my deeply hidden grief wrestled with my desire to live thankfully.  My son has been in this wonderful school for only a few years but the growth has been significant.  I know that many who are as severely affected as he, do not have this kind of support/instruction and I remember well how God had led us to this point.

I have much for which to be thankful.

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Yet, as I listened to the teachers explain about his new classroom and the new program he would be entering with the start of the school year, I felt a sense of anxiousness.  He is entering a special program that his school has developed to help prepare their students for life after school.  It will be a big step and will bring a lot of changes and new challenges.

I learned that part of the program includes work-based learning and specialized staff will find various volunteer work for him to do so they can expose him to a variety of skills and learn what kind of work he will enjoy the most.

I also learned that we have other new members on his team including a career developer and a career specialist.  These two will be focused completely on learning all about my son, working with area businesses, and developing a ‘career’ especially designed for him with special considerations for his abilities and needs.  The hope is that, once he does graduate at 21, he will already be settled in a suitable job situation.

As all of this new information swept through my mind, I had a moment where the Lord spoke quietly into my thoughts.  He knows every step of the journey leading up to this moment, He knows every drop of sadness I have been hiding, and He knows the fears I have for the future … and as I considered all these things and more, I found myself saying out loud, “Tyler gets his adventure too.”

His peers are heading off to college or entering the military or workforce.  Their years of schooling have prepared them for their next step in life.  These last few years have also prepared my son for his next step in life and while it may look different from the typical young adult, it is still new … a step forward.

Yes, it requires an entire team of school staff, specialists, anxiety medication, behavioral therapy, speech therapy, occupational therapy, and considerable time, work, patience, and perseverance … but God has been preparing us for this season of life as well.

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That evening, as I pondered the years a whole and reflected on the information shared in the meetings, these words came to mind  ~ ‘Trace the Rainbow Through the Rain’ ~  It almost seemed a command from the Lord so I began to pray as I sang this verse of the song, ‘O Love that will not let me go’

O Joy that seekest me through pain, 
I cannot close my heart to thee; 
I trace the rainbow through the rain, 
And feel the promise is not vain, 
That morn shall tearless be.

 

This is the verse that always brings a mist to my eyes when we sing it in our church service.  These are the words that best describe my personal journey through, not only loving and raising a child with autism, but so many other challenges as well.

And these were the words the Lord brought to mind in this moment.

I began to ponder the years past and considered all that God had done in the midst of some incredibly difficult seasons.  I considered the present and the very real hard situations that continue to be a part of every day life and even though there are hardships that must be faced daily, the presence of God has been and continues to be unmistakable.

I have learned that grief and peace can travel hand in hand when one walks with God.

I have learned that He is there even when He seems silent.

I have learned that He is working even when all seems lost.

I have also learned that life doesn’t always go the way we would like.

I traced His rainbow through the rain and lifted my eyes once more to the One who holds my life in His hands … and I know His promises remain true on both the stormy days and the ones filled with sunshine.

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I don’t know what difficult situation you might be facing or what may lay hidden in your past, but I can well imagine.  Maybe there are significant dysfunctional family issues.  Maybe a family member who is living with addiction and continually making choices that destroy their lives and hurt their loved ones.  Maybe there is a long-term harmful cycling of behavior in a broken marriage.  Maybe it is a personal issue of sin that you just can’t seem to conquer.  Maybe a heart-breaking diagnosis and the loss of one you hold dear.  Maybe it is a combination of many of these things, as is true for me, or maybe something so much harder.

If you are a follower of Christ, then I invite you to also take some time and trace His rainbow through the rains of your own life.

It is a worthwhile exercise and it serves as a reminder to be thankful for His past mercies and to trust Him for every tomorrow.

 

~”O Love that will not let me go” written by George Matheson~

A Single Thread in the Greatest Tapestry of All

As a young girl, I loved to do embroidery and cross-stitch. There was something  exhilarating about creating a design from thin pieces of string, a needle, and material.  To this day, though I rarely do any sort of crafting myself, I find myself drawn to the beauty of art created by thread.  The details a true artist can make come alive and the stories that can be told through this exquisite art form are mesmerizing.

Now, here is something I’ve been thinking on lately … when I look upon a tapestry and observe the picture or story being presented, I always notice the use of color and I usually notice the various stitching utilized.  But I never pay particular attention to any one thread or string used.  The story and the beauty of the piece will cause me to search for details about the creator and ponder the skill they possess.  But never do I ponder or seek information about one particular piece of thread that is used in the overall design.

I have yet to point to an individual thread and say, “Wow! That piece of thread is amazing!  Look how it sewed itself into the material!”

No, I will look at the tapestry and say, “The creator of this piece must possess exceptional skill to create such beauty with simple pieces of thread.”

I believe I can say with confidence that neither does a single thread draw attention to itself nor claim the glory for the masterpiece.

The creator receives the glory … not the thread.

Without the artist, the thread can do nothing.

 

blue blur close up craft

Photo by Fancycrave.com on Pexels.com

 

When my first born began to exhibit significant developmental delays many years ago and received the diagnosis of autism, I prayed constantly for his healing.  I sang praise songs, I spoke verses over him, and I was convinced that I knew the will of God for him.  We certainly were not to be ‘held back’ with the diagnosis of severe autism and I could not see how anything less than a full healing could possibly be the will of God.

Over the years, the severity of his autism continued to grow and significantly impact not only his life, but my own and the rest of our family.  Despite all I tried to do to ‘fix’ his symptoms, little progress was made and the journey grew incredibly hard and isolating.  Family and friends could not relate or understand this reality and I began to hide as I grew discouraged and overwhelmed with a sense of failure.

“Did I not have enough faith?”
“Did I not do enough?”

“Is the severity and impact of my son’s diagnosis all my fault?”

I truly believed it was.

It was when I reached the very end of trying to weave my own version of our story that the Lord picked up the threads.

“My life is but a weaving between my God and me. 
I cannot choose the colors, He weaveth constantly.

‘Oft times He weaveth sorrow; And I in foolish pride
Forget He sees the upper, and I the under side.”

 

The journey since then has been considerably different.  The Lord has often done what I could not.  He has opened doors that were formerly closed, however, He has also allowed others to remain closed.  My son is not ‘healed’ of  autism and yet, he has grown.  The Lord has walked me personally through many steps of spiritual maturity and growth and, as a result, He has allowed me the privilege to teach those same lessons to my children.  Not because He cured my son of autism … but because He is working through my son and his autism.  The difficulties, the hard parts, the dependence on One greater than ourselves … these are the very things that cause us to grow, to change, to look continually towards the Savior.

Often, given the nature of my life and the lack of impact I feel I have in my church and community, I feel insignificant.  I feel like I haven’t done enough … or that I am not good enough.  I believe the story and testimony of another must be of more value than my own.

However, I’ve come to view life as a series of threads that God is weaving into a masterpiece tapestry that He has been crafting since Genesis 1:1.  The thread of one is not greater or of more value than another.  Rather, each become intricately linked together as the Father weaves a story that, for now, we can only partially see.

Remembering that the one to receives the glory is not the single thread, but the Creator of the tapestry.

For the thread, without Him, can do nothing.

Not ’til the loom is silent and the shuttles cease to fly
Will God unroll the canvas and reveal the reasons why

The dark threads are as needful in the weaver’s skillful hand
As the threads of gold and silver in the pattern He has planned.

 

My son woke early one morning this week, upset and out of sorts.  I startled awake and quickly clambered out of bed, wrenching the very knee I just had surgery on.  I limped about, feeling a bit discouraged as I pondered the reality of this life.  But as I helped my son get ready for his day, I began singing softly to myself, without much thought of the song that left my lips.

There is power in the name of Jesus
There is power in the name of Jesus
There is power in the name of Jesus

To break every chain
Break every chain
Break every chain

Suddenly my son locked his eyes on mine and my mostly non-verbal son said one word… ‘Swing.’ 

Everything stopped in that moment as the significance of that one word rolled over me.

One year ago I sat outside on our porch swing with my son as we waited for electricity to be restored after a storm.  I remember it was such a difficult time as I sang those very words to my son just before the Lord led me to present the gospel and his need of a Savior.

One year ago, I sat on the swing and led my son to Jesus.

The memory of that unbelievable moment still fills me with wonder because at one time, it seemed an impossibility.

As I recollected this, our eyes remained locked together as I said, “Yes, you remember that I sang that song to you as we sat on the swing and that was when you asked Jesus into your heart.  You remember that?”

His eyes remained on mine … and he smiled.

 

He knows, He loves, He cares;
Nothing this truth can dim.

He gives the very best to those
Who leave the choice to Him.
(The Tapestry Poem by Corrie ten Boom)

 

You know, I don’t know how different our lives might be had God answered my prayers the way I wanted Him to many years ago.  But this journey has taught me that my story is not mine alone.  The thread of my life is not mine alone to determine the course.  When left in the hand of the Father, the thread learns to actively follow where it is led and in His hands, I have found, is no better place to be.

Some day, we will get to hear the story in its entirety and see the tapestry complete … and then we’ll understand.

For now, I am content to trust Him and follow where He leads.

A single thread in the greatest tapestry of all.

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Summer Writing

Summer.

Thoughts of summer tend to inspire all kinds of images, memories, dreams, and plans.

Just this morning, while the rest of my family slumbered peacefully as I weeded flower beds outside, I was reminded of my own childhood summers.  I would often sleep in and when I finally stumbled down the stairs, the house would be quiet … my mother no where to be seen.  Yet, all I had to do was look out the back patio door and there I would usually find her, bent over, pulling weeds from the garden.  Back then I thought that the most terrible thing … working outside in the garden during those lazy early summer mornings.

Now, I see it differently.

I couldn’t wait to get outside this morning and even though I was quite weary and the temperatures already warm, I eagerly embraced the task of weeding my own flower beds.

Time has a way of adjusting our perspectives, doesn’t it?

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I’ve been thinking about perspectives quite a bit lately.  And writing.

Summer too.  Oh, and homeschooling.  Autism.  Family.  Relationships.  Personalities.

Children.  Hurt feelings.  Misunderstandings and feeling left out.  Faith.

The current culture.  The future.

So basically … life.

My oldest son, who is 18 and has severe autism, is currently on break from school.  There are those who are critical of this kind of honesty, but I can readily admit these are some of the most challenging days of the year for me personally.  When he is home, my radar is on 24/7 and it doesn’t take long for me to experience a certain level of burn-out as he begins to break down from the extended break in his routine.

It is a balancing act trying to keep him busy and productive without overstimulating him with too much activity, changes, and demands.  What an entire team of professionals do during a single day cannot be replicated by one weary mother who is balancing some extreme autistic behaviors, the needs of other children, and many diverse tasks and responsibilities.

During this burning-out phase, parts of my brain tend to slow or even shut down so that other parts can continue to function.  My thinking and overall reaction time slows, while my stress response actually quickens.  I sleep more but never feel rested.  I enter the familiar realm of survival.

It is what it is.

Typically in the days before I begin burning out, I write more.  I share little stories or the day’s events on social media.  I take more pictures.  It is a desperate attempt to reach out and connect because I am always afraid of getting lost in this world of survival.  I focus and share on the positives, wanting others to see and experience the smallest of steps of our journey.  Then suddenly, a switch flips and everything changes.

There is a hazy fog that fills me until I can only see the very next step ahead of me…

And sometimes not even that.

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This morning, I stepped outside into the quiet morning air with my coffee in one hand and my gardening gloves in the other.  I pushed the wheelbarrow over and then slowly, methodically began to weed my flower bed.  I would stop to sip my coffee and look around me before reaching back down for another invasive weed.  I contemplated both the beauty of the flowers and the quiet … and the One who created it all … and what all influences our perceptions.

When I was young, weeding a garden in the early morning hours when I could be sleeping, was unthinkable.  Now, it is a time to gather strength.  A time to be alone in the silence and talk with my Savior.  A time to listen to His instruction.

My perception of pulling weeds, and pretty much everything else, has changed over time.  The way I understand life and perceive it have altered considerably through life experiences, a deepening walk with God, a transforming worldview based on the truth of Scripture, trials, and the resulting maturity.

There is little that I see the same as when I was a child.

As it should be.

The difficulties of my youth, the things I cried into my pillow about, now seem less significant in the light of more recent heartaches.

Yet, to the naive child I was, those heartaches were deep and real.  I would never go back to that child and tell her that her tears were silly.  I would never tell her other people’s problems are more important than hers.  No, if I could go back, I would wipe her tears, teach her more about the Savior, walk with her through the heartaches, talk to her about making wise decisions, and then encourage her to see and reach out to the heartaches around her.

To the young woman who was so desperate to be loved that she hinged her entire identity on it, I would never dismiss her fears.  I would wrap my arms around her and direct her back to the One whose very love redeemed her and fills her life with more purpose and identity that she could possibly imagine.  I would encourage her to deepen and strengthen her walk with Christ before even considering dating or marriage.  I would caution her to seek Christ first and to make wise decisions.

To the married woman in a broken relationship, longing for a baby of her own, I would never make light of her desire for motherhood or the brokenness she was experiencing.  I would sit beside her, wipe away her tears, pray with her, and encourage her to love the children that are already in her life.  Invest in them, trust the Lord for her own future, learn the process of contentment, make wise decisions, and above all else, look to Christ first in all things.

You see, hindsight makes me look at all the various difficult seasons in my life very differently.  Because of the journey I have been on and the countless ways I have see God work on my behalf over many years, I understand things differently now.  But, I had to walk through all the very real and very hard things to learn this about Him.  The child I was could never begin to understand what I know now … nor could the woman I was five years ago.

My perception has changed and therefore how I respond to life has changed.

“When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me.”
1 Corinthians 13:11

One time I was asked by a person in ministry, who was walking through a very hard season in life, how I handle it when people complain to me about things that seem trivial in comparison to my journey.  Does it bother me?  I thought for a moment and then answered honestly that it used to bother me.  When a young mother would complain about her baby waking in the night or how tired she was, my insides would scoff as I thought about the years of sleep deprivation I have experienced …

But then I grew up.

I matured in my faith and I began to recognize the purpose of my trials and the strength of my Savior.  He developed in me an empathy and deep compassion for people and more than anything, this has deepened into a desire to be an encouragement to others.

So now when a young mother mentions how tired she is and then apologizes as she realizes how weary I am, I try to be quick to reassure her.  Her fatigue is very real.  Just because I am weary from years and years of sleep deprivation, does not make her any less weary.  It doesn’t make her fatigue any less important.  I always try to validate her and then encourage her that it is simply part of the journey and the Lord who walks with her can be her source of strength on the most weary of days and nights.  I want her to look to Jesus in the difficult times, as well as, the good.

Why else has God brought me through all these years if not to point others to Him?

A young mother’s perception of the early days of motherhood will adjust and change over time.  The present season we are in is usually the hardest season because we are learning and growing just as our children are.

The same is true for our fellow believers who are walking through life, with difficulties big or small.  I don’t get to determine the size of someone’s struggle or trial … I do not know their life experiences nor the depth of their faith.  I do not know know how they perceive life and I cannot expect them to view their difficulty through the same perception I have.  I can only love them, point them to Jesus, speak the truth from Scriptures, challenge them to make wise decisions, and pray that their faith would grow as they walk through whatever season of difficulty they are facing.

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As I pulled the weeds from my garden this morning, I asked the Father to pull the weeds of sin from my own life and to continue to grow and strengthen me even as the hazy fog of survival mode threatens to overwhelm me.  All I could hear in the silence was to continue to look to Him in all things, practice contentment, make wise decisions, show myself some grace, and write … write what I have learned and trust to be true.

The truths that strengthen me during some of the most wearying days of the year.

So, I offer to you my summer writing … because of Him.

 

 

 

 

Set like Flint

“For the Lord God helps Me, therefore, I am not disgraced; Therefore, I have set My face like flint, and I know that I shall not be ashamed.”
Isaiah 50:7

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I can’t tell you how many years I have begged God to change certain circumstances in my life.  I don’t want to tell you how long I lamented those circumstances when they did not change and simply grew more difficult as years went by.  When seasons of heartache last upwards of 20 years and some 35 years and beyond, one grows weary.

By last fall, I found myself teetering on the edge of despair.

Overwhelmed by the isolation of the storms, weakened by the longevity, and discouraged by the lack of growth, help, intervention, and relationship.

Disquieted because of what seemed as silence from the heavens above in the ongoing midst of these trials.

My nature tends to be more quiet and reserved.  Life experience on top of my personal nature has caused me to become more observant and introspective as time goes by.  I understand that some people don’t like this about me.  I rarely respond as others seem to expect me to and frankly, I no longer even try to.  My soul runs deep but I am mostly gentle and simple at heart.  I am loyal until betrayed and intensely protective of those I love.  Contention, strife, game-playing, blame-shifting … these are all enemies of my soul.

I have been, unfortunately, the ultimate people-pleaser.

And this has gotten me into considerable trouble.

For much of my life, my identity was based on what I heard and perceived from others.

I gathered all the words and perceptions and I built my identity on them.

Not only that, but I carried them throughout my life.

A whole bunch of crap, tied up in a burlap bag, and strapped to my shoulders.

It was a life built on a shaky foundation.

A foundation that I knew God was systematically dismantling, but I admit that I was not fully aware that He was also in the process of rebuilding…

A new foundation grounded in truth and on Christ alone.

A foundation tested and tried because of the very trials I despised.

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Over the last number of years, my studies have often been directed towards certain portions of the Bible over and over.  Passages that the Lord knew I needed to grasp in order to change and grow within my circumstances.  For a long time, the writings of James and Paul consumed my studies as I sought to understand the purpose of trials and sufferings.  Instead of fighting against God in these storms, I needed to learn to walk through them in His strength and leading.

Then 1 Corinthians 13 became a focused part of my pondering and studies.  Learning to love others as Christ loves us is often spoken of loftily and easily.  The reality is that it is a brutal process of dying to self and learning to seek the good of others before my own.  This just does not come easily to any of us, no matter how much we like to pretend it does.

More recently, Hebrews 11 has been the focus and I have to admit, I have not always appreciated this part of my studies.  Specifically because these tremendous people of faith died, never getting a happy end to their story.

“All these died in faith, without receiving the promises,
but having seen them and welcomed them from a distance,
and having confessed that they were strangers and exiles on the earth.”
Hebrews 11:13

This bothered me, to be honest, because I wanted a guarantee that I would have a happy ending here on earth.

The beauty of what is commonly known as the ‘Faith’ chapter is that these warriors of the faith, lived and died (sometimes horribly), not seeing the purpose of their sufferings and trials, yet remaining solid and true until the very end.  Their reward was not known to them on this side of eternity.

This has become achingly beautiful to me over time.  Living a life of faith and complete dependence on God, without ever knowing relief nor the reason until eternity.  These are my heroes.  These are my examples.  These are the ones I turn to when I grow weary in this journey. These are the cloud of witnesses the writer of Hebrews tells us about:

“Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witness surrounding us, let us also lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him, endured the cross, despising the shame, and has set down at the right hand of the throne of God.  For consider Him who has endured such hostility by sinners against Himself, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.”
Hebrews 12:1-3

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Last week, I experienced something that has led to all these rambling thoughts.  An out-of-the-blue, random, and somewhat public attack on my character.

I was startled and taken aback.

Imagine it like this … envision a woman walking along her life’s journey, neither perfect nor without sin, yet minding her own business and simply accomplishing the tasks before her, when suddenly … randomly … someone hiding behind some shrubbery, hurls a rock in her direction.  A rock written with words seemingly intent to inflict harm.

The rock itself doesn’t hurt badly because it was thrown at a distance but still, it stings a little.  She finds herself knocked a bit off balance by the surprise of the attack.  Stunned by the words written on it.

She knew who threw the rock but still she looked around to see who was watching.

Would anyone come to her defense?

Had they seen the words?

Would they believe them?

She slowly reached down and picked up the rock and as she stood back up holding it, she looked directly at the thrower.

Yes, I see your words and I see you.  I see more than you realize.

And then, unsure how to respond, she turned away and continued walking because her journey doesn’t stop simply because someone else chooses to throw stones.

But she was still carrying that rock.

So what do you do with it?

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I have watched a considerable amount of stone-throwing in my lifetime.

Now, just to be clear, I am not talking about confronting a believer with the truth in Scriptures as a means of restoring them to righteousness.  That is speaking truth, even though it may come across as hurtful, for someone’s good.  It is not stone-throwing.  What I am referring to is the intentional (or sometimes even unintentional) use of words that harm or destroy a person’s character, testimony, or their emotional state.

So again I ask, what do you do if you are on the receiving end?

Well, perhaps you are like me.  I used to gather everything that was said or that I thought had been said, and I carried them across my shoulders.  Not only that, but I would look at them all the time … and I believed them.  Those rocks were my identity.   I chose those words over Christ.

Thank you Jesus for the cross and that I no longer have to carry that burden.  I still do sometimes because it is so familiar to me … but I am free to not do so.

Perhaps you are much more likely to respond quickly in anger, grabbing that stone before it can even touch the ground and hurling back towards the other person.

Matter of fact, there is a good chance you are able to grab a few extra stones lying around to send flying along as well.

Because they deserve it, of course.  

Maybe your anger doesn’t ignite that quickly but tends to simmer over time.  Eventually, the stones inspire a deep root of bitterness that seeps out through passive-aggressive, snide comments.

How dare they?  Don’t they realize how much I have done for them?  They owe me.  I’m the victim here.

Of course, sometimes we are too intimidated or maybe just unsure how to respond so we bottle it up inside until we explode onto some unfortunate, innocent soul who is completely in the dark.

Children, spouse, random grocery store clerk … 

All of these are common, instinctive responses and yet, none of them are right.

None are healthy.

None are righteous.

None follow the example of the Savior, who although completely innocent and pure (unlike you and me), stood silent before his accusers.  Nor does it follow the examples of the cloud of witnesses given to us in the book of Hebrews.

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I knelt alone, still holding that stone and reading those words.

Feeling a bit dejected and unsure …

But mostly I felt alone.

But yet, I wasn’t.  My Savior stood beside me.  The very one who set his face as flint as He stood unashamed before His accusers.  The very one who was the only innocent person to ever walk this earth and the only one without sin.

My Savior and my example.

He stood in the silence with me until I handed Him the stone and asked Him to show me what to do.  I know I am capable of any of the typical responses but I wanted His help.

Once in His hands, the truth became clear.

The words spoken of me were not true.

Neither were they my identity.

I began to understand anew the purpose of the trials, the trust that can arise from the deepest places of despair, the strength that grows from endurance, and the value of a solid new foundation grounded in the truth of a Savior.

“Everyone then who hears these words of mine and does them will be like a wise man who built his house on the rock. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on the rock. And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not do them will be like a foolish man who built his house on the sand. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell, and great was the fall of it.”
Matthew 7:24-27

 

You know,there is an interesting thing that can happen when you give an ugly stone that was intended to harm you to Jesus.   In my hands, that stone would only continue to be ugly and harmful, whether towards myself or others.  But in His hands, those words become meaningless and the ugliness of the rock transforms into a bright and shining pebble, which He carefully places to create beauty along my pathway.

Each stone serves as a reminder of who I am in Christ.

 

 

assorted color flowers

Photo by Quang Nguyen Vinh on Pexels.com

Trust

I heard the first sniffle but decided to ignore it.

As well as the second … and the third.

These sniffles are often a precursor to an explosion but I was hoping that wouldn’t be the case this time.

It was late.  I was tired.

I didn’t want to do this.

In fact, I said that to my son … “Please, let’s not do this tonight.”

But, for some reason, the computer he was using would not connect to the internet, which meant he could not watch the YouTube videos he fixates on.

Which means … his button got pushed.

And before long, those sniffles led to the explosion I feared … an especially ugly one.

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I am not especially skilled in technology but over the years, since I have a son with autism who is obsessed with technology, I have gained a certain amount of knowledge.  Given some time, I can usually problem-solve and determine if it is a problem I can fix, if I need to call tech support, or if I actually need to take the computer somewhere for service.

On this night I struggled to problem solve but found it impossible given the behaviors and noise level.  My ears were ringing from the noise, my body fatigued from the day, and my head aching from the unintentional blow to the face when I got in the way of a flying elbow.

I was sure it might be an easy fix but I just could not figure it out and given my son’s loud behaviors, I couldn’t risk calling tech support for guidance.

I tried to calm my son.  I tried to explain that if he would just calm down, I could call and get help but as long as he screamed, I was not able to call.

I couldn’t begin to fix the problem as long as he continued in his behaviors.

He raged on.

He asked for ‘Internet’ over and over and over again.

But he would not do what was needed in order for me to address the problem.

I tried explaining that only that one computer wouldn’t connect to the internet.  He still had his I Pad and he could use my lap top.  There were options.

But he would not listen to the other options available to him.

He was just too angry to listen.  Too determined to have things be a certain way.

Finally, I sent him to his ‘calm-down’ chair.  It is simply a set place to get himself together … calm down … get behaviors under control.

When he finally reached a point of hovering just under the crisis line, I sank into my own ‘calming down’ spot and began to plead with the Lord.  “Please Lord, I can’t do this again.  Could you just make that computer work so we could have peace tonight?”

Oh how I long for peace.

But I’ve been down this road before and I know that God doesn’t smooth the way out for me very often.  Usually there is something to learn … something for me to teach my son … a connection that needs made … a skill to develop.

So, I followed up my plea with, “But Lord, if that peace and an easy answer isn’t what you have for us tonight, then please guide me in what to do … and provide the grace and strength that is needed.”

Because I was fresh out.

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My son stayed just below the crisis point but still fixated on the uncooperative computer.

I mostly stayed silent because I knew he wasn’t ready to listen.

But I watched and waited … wondering how the night would play out and mentally steeling myself for a disrupted night of sleep.

He finally reached a point of coping by accepting my computer as a temporary replacement.  I placed it beside his computer so he could still sit at his desk and watch his videos.

Yes, he was coping with the situation … but he was still obsessing.

Trying to control and determined how things should be … but not trusting.

Not trusting the woman who protects and looks out for him every moment of the day.

Not trusting the one who has guided him through many a trial and challenge.

Not trusting the one who loves him most dearly.

Choosing to rage and stomp in anger … instead of trusting.

As a mother who is generally patient and compassionate, it was enough to irritate me.

“Honestly,” I told the Lord, “if he would just listen and trust me, life wouldn’t have to be this stressful.”

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My son has autism and his obsessive, controlling nature is part of it … but it is also part of his sin nature.  He is determined for things to be a certain way.  He is also very smart and able to learn … but we still have to walk through these behaviors almost every time something happens to disrupt his sense of control.

As his mother, I long for him to simply turn to me and allow me to walk him through the challenges of this life without all the drama and anger.  I love this young man and I work constantly to teach him the needed skills to live the freest and fullest life possible.

His autism is not his greatest obstacle … his anger and need for control is.

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Friend, you likely do not have autism, but I wonder if you can relate to my son’s struggle?

I know I can.

I want life to be a certain way.  To look a certain way.

There are certain things that I want to be in place so I feel safe and loved.

I don’t like disruptions and truthfully, I really hate it when I am reminded that I am not in control.

However, how we respond in the challenges, disruptions, and crises of life is a pretty clear indicator of our level of trust in the Lord.

Are our responses similar to those of my son?  Do we fly into an immediate rage and stomp about in anger?  Do we panic and assume the worst is about to happen?  Do we seek control over others and the situation?  Do we rant and destroy others with our tongues in this place of anger or fear?

As our Father in heaven watches, what do our responses to these temporal situations tell Him?  I wonder if He feels the same frustration I sometimes feel with my son?

The same grief as I watch him struggle with the same thing over and over?

The same desire to see freedom and growth?

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I have spent a lot of time over the years pondering my relationship with my son and my relationship with God the Father.  But this week, I considered how deeply I long for my son to trust me fully.  To rest in my care and guidance.  And I had to ask myself, how much more does God the Father desire for me to trust Him in all things?  To rest in His sovereign care and guidance?

I work to be a good and Godly mother to my children but my best efforts will always be tarnished by sin.  But God’s love is holy and pure, untouched by sin.

“If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give what is good to those who ask him!”
Matthew 7:11

My thoughts on this topic are still developing so I am sure what I have written is a bit jumbled.  But I will share anyways because I wonder if this line of thought might also be helpful for someone else?  Maybe it would be helpful to consider how you respond when life gets disrupted and seems to spin out of your control?  Perhaps it would be good to ask the Lord how responsive you are to His leading and discipline?  How obedient to His call?  How trusting of His guidance and plans for your life?

What a gracious and long-suffering Father He is.