Saturday, September 15, 2012
It's night time, and I am alone again. He is at work, my poor sweet darling, and I am here. The TV's off, a rare occurrence in our house. My last friend just got off Facebook, so I am alone alone. Not just home alone alone. Just me and God alone.
I am doing something I shouldn't. Something I haven't done in years. I am reading through the infertility boards. Why, oh why am I doing this? Maybe it's because circumstances lately have brought the could we and the should we and the will we or won't we back to my mind. Babies are coming. All around us, babies are coming. People keep telling us our time is coming soon, but they don't actually know that. How did we get to a place where we can presume to know the mind of God when actually, most of us struggle to figure it out daily? I don't know. What I do know is that whether or not we get a baby is up to God and God alone, and no one knows what's coming but Him.
The CaT boards. Complete as Two. Two people, husband and wife, fully resting in the knowledge that God's grace is sufficient. That's us. Isn't it? We ARE complete as two. I didn't want to be. If I'm being honest, I never thought we would be, and yet, again, God's grace is sufficient to supply all our needs. What I needed most, more than anything else, was enough peace to love my husband with reckless abandon in spite of the fact that our family might never grow. Or maybe because of that fact. Really, I'm not sure.
It's tough. Usually, not so tough, really. We are blissfully happy. Truly, we are. Happier than most couples I know. We spend nearly every waking minute together, except for those pesky minutes he has to be at work. Other than that, he is almost always close enough I can touch him. I love that. I love knowing that God allowed us to have special circumstances, and I am able to truly appreciate the absolute blessing He gave me in Jesse. I tell people he's my prize for dealing with life's trials. I don't know how that works, actually, if God really rewards us for struggling in such a way, but I know that I got the best of the best, for sure. When I look at that beautiful face, I know that my heart is whole, come what may. I cannot imagine loving anyone more than I love him.
That's what it boils down to, really. He is so fabulous, really, truly, completely fabulous, that depriving him of fatherhood is a sin. So many men are not good fathers. He's a good daddy to our furry babies. How much more so would he be to the child who would truly be the fruit of our marriage, of all our labor (pun sort of intended)?
My heart is tender tonight. It's been tender for weeks, really. Tender in a way it hasn't been for awhile. We have accepted that becoming a family of more than two is not for us, and we are okay. Really, better than okay. That doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. It does. Hence tonight.
Tonight I am thankful that God's grace covers a multitude of sins, even lack of faith. Accidental lack of faith, but I think that's what it is, really. I don't know how to trust God to provide for us either way. I am trying. I am trying to learn to trust Him fully, even in the things I can't imagine.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
The God we serve is able
Our preacher has been preaching on the importance of your testimony. This past Sunday, he preached on Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. Their story speaks volumes to me. My favorite part is this: "If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to deliver us from it, and he will deliver us[c] from Your Majesty’s hand. 18 But even if he does not, we want you to know, Your Majesty, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up." Daniel 3:17-18.
I chose the NIV version because I really like the way it says even if HE does not. Typically, I'm a pretty traditional KJV girl, even though my Bible is NIV. I just prefer reading it the way my Mama read it to be when I was little. Anyway, this really speaks to me, as someone who lives through things daily she'd really rather not have to deal with. I could be wrong, and it's okay to tell me if I am, that's how we learn, but I believe those three men knew something important for us. First of all, they believed that God COULD deliver them, no questions asked. They knew He was able. They knew that standing up for what was right was important beyond all other things, and they did it secure in the knowledge that they served a powerful God. I believe, though, that they also knew that sometimes God removes your circumstances to show His power, and sometimes He carries you through it to reveal His power. They knew God was able to deliver them, but they also knew that they didn't know everything God knows, and He might have a different plan for their circumstance. They faced death, knowing that if God didn't step in, they would surely burn up, and they didn't know for sure if He would or not. They didn't know what He had in store for them, for their testimony but whatever happened, they knew that He was mighty, sovereign, and they knew that He loved them.
That's kind of how I feel a lot of the time. You see, people speak healing over me all the time, and I love that, I really do. It's comforting to know that the people that love me believe that God can remove these afflictions from me. It's comforting for me to know that I serve a God who is ABLE to do that. What I think people don't understand, though, is that until He does that or calls me home, I have to live my days in a body that's broken. It's not fun sometimes. And by sometimes, I pretty much mean, all the time. I don't understand why my body hurts and won't do the things I tell it to, why my foot hurts even right now because I fell down. I don't understand why it just continues to get worse little by little, even though people pray for it to stop. I don't understand why as of yet, I've been denied a baby, something I want dearly, and I don't understand why I cannot be sure I'd make a good mother because of my illness. I don't dwell on this a lot anymore, praise Jesus, but it IS something that's important to me, something that matters, and part of the reason I have peace in the midst of these trials is this passage of Scripture. Whether He heals me today or I have to spend another 20, 30, 40 years like this, I know three things: I know my God is ABLE to deliver me from these things; I know that God loves me and my illness is not a sign that He loves me any less than anyone else; I know there is purpose in my pain. I'd love to tell you if someone offered to take this from me tomorrow, I'd choose to keep it, as I know that it's part of my testimony, part of how God is working in my life. The truth is, sweet friends, I'm human, and I don't like to hurt, and I'd love to have a baby, and if giving up MS meant I could live pain-free, get my vision back, not have to deal with all the little things that come with this, and get to have a houseful of kids, I'm afraid I'd hand it over in a second. Maybe that means I'm weak. I don't know. I'd much rather be healthy and up all night because I had crying babies than because I hurt. If I could trade it in, I probably would. I can't, though. No one is going to make me that deal, so we live here, in the midst of this. I am thankful, though, even though I'd trade it in a heartbeat, that God has let me experience these burdens. We are in such a unique position, all kinds of doors have opened up for us to serve, and I LOVE that. I love that in just a few minutes, Jess is gonna wake up, and I'm gonna get to go play in the church library. I've always dreamed of organizing a library (hey, my dreams are small, folks). When I was little, I tried to run one at my house, but my brother refused to fill out the cards and made me cry. Now, I can officially ask people to sign their name on the check-out card. It's okay that I'm a nerd. God loves me. But I digress. (I really AM excited about it, though) We just get to do things other people living "normal" lives can't do, and it's such a blessing. We are happy, me and this sweet darling who's sleeping beside me right now. Our life is a good one, a blessed one, a precious one, and we love living it.
I'd love for my testimony one day to be that I had this horrible illness and God delievered me from it, healed me completely, and gave me enough babies to make a football team (yall don't tell Jess I said that. He'd probably throw up, cuz he has to pay for said babies, you know). I truly would. I would love for that to happen. I don't know that it will. Just like Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, I have to face that my testimony might always be that God was with me and comforted me and provided for me while He allowed me to experience this trial. He didn't choose to allow them to burn up. He saved them. One of my favorite songs is called God Delivers Again, and that's what it's about. I love it, because I know my God WILL deliver again. He's delivered me from a lot of the emotional problems I had and healed my spirit. I want healing to be my testimony. Maybe, though, God wants it to be all the things I did inspite of my sickness. The temptation to give up, to just stay in bed, is real, but I cannot do that. Jesus died on the cross to save me. What right do I have to refuse to serve Him just because I don't feel good? My testimony, right now, today, is this: Before, when I was diagnosed, I was angry, a lot, and for a long time, and I didn't want to serve. God brought me to a place when the tornado hit in April where I knew I didn't have any choice but to serve, and He sustained me through all of those weeks, and He sustains me even now. My body never feels like serving. It really doesn't. Every day we go to church, it's a sacrifice. My heart, though, wants to serve Jesus more than anything else in this world, and I think that's what's most important.
I chose the NIV version because I really like the way it says even if HE does not. Typically, I'm a pretty traditional KJV girl, even though my Bible is NIV. I just prefer reading it the way my Mama read it to be when I was little. Anyway, this really speaks to me, as someone who lives through things daily she'd really rather not have to deal with. I could be wrong, and it's okay to tell me if I am, that's how we learn, but I believe those three men knew something important for us. First of all, they believed that God COULD deliver them, no questions asked. They knew He was able. They knew that standing up for what was right was important beyond all other things, and they did it secure in the knowledge that they served a powerful God. I believe, though, that they also knew that sometimes God removes your circumstances to show His power, and sometimes He carries you through it to reveal His power. They knew God was able to deliver them, but they also knew that they didn't know everything God knows, and He might have a different plan for their circumstance. They faced death, knowing that if God didn't step in, they would surely burn up, and they didn't know for sure if He would or not. They didn't know what He had in store for them, for their testimony but whatever happened, they knew that He was mighty, sovereign, and they knew that He loved them.
That's kind of how I feel a lot of the time. You see, people speak healing over me all the time, and I love that, I really do. It's comforting to know that the people that love me believe that God can remove these afflictions from me. It's comforting for me to know that I serve a God who is ABLE to do that. What I think people don't understand, though, is that until He does that or calls me home, I have to live my days in a body that's broken. It's not fun sometimes. And by sometimes, I pretty much mean, all the time. I don't understand why my body hurts and won't do the things I tell it to, why my foot hurts even right now because I fell down. I don't understand why it just continues to get worse little by little, even though people pray for it to stop. I don't understand why as of yet, I've been denied a baby, something I want dearly, and I don't understand why I cannot be sure I'd make a good mother because of my illness. I don't dwell on this a lot anymore, praise Jesus, but it IS something that's important to me, something that matters, and part of the reason I have peace in the midst of these trials is this passage of Scripture. Whether He heals me today or I have to spend another 20, 30, 40 years like this, I know three things: I know my God is ABLE to deliver me from these things; I know that God loves me and my illness is not a sign that He loves me any less than anyone else; I know there is purpose in my pain. I'd love to tell you if someone offered to take this from me tomorrow, I'd choose to keep it, as I know that it's part of my testimony, part of how God is working in my life. The truth is, sweet friends, I'm human, and I don't like to hurt, and I'd love to have a baby, and if giving up MS meant I could live pain-free, get my vision back, not have to deal with all the little things that come with this, and get to have a houseful of kids, I'm afraid I'd hand it over in a second. Maybe that means I'm weak. I don't know. I'd much rather be healthy and up all night because I had crying babies than because I hurt. If I could trade it in, I probably would. I can't, though. No one is going to make me that deal, so we live here, in the midst of this. I am thankful, though, even though I'd trade it in a heartbeat, that God has let me experience these burdens. We are in such a unique position, all kinds of doors have opened up for us to serve, and I LOVE that. I love that in just a few minutes, Jess is gonna wake up, and I'm gonna get to go play in the church library. I've always dreamed of organizing a library (hey, my dreams are small, folks). When I was little, I tried to run one at my house, but my brother refused to fill out the cards and made me cry. Now, I can officially ask people to sign their name on the check-out card. It's okay that I'm a nerd. God loves me. But I digress. (I really AM excited about it, though) We just get to do things other people living "normal" lives can't do, and it's such a blessing. We are happy, me and this sweet darling who's sleeping beside me right now. Our life is a good one, a blessed one, a precious one, and we love living it.
I'd love for my testimony one day to be that I had this horrible illness and God delievered me from it, healed me completely, and gave me enough babies to make a football team (yall don't tell Jess I said that. He'd probably throw up, cuz he has to pay for said babies, you know). I truly would. I would love for that to happen. I don't know that it will. Just like Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, I have to face that my testimony might always be that God was with me and comforted me and provided for me while He allowed me to experience this trial. He didn't choose to allow them to burn up. He saved them. One of my favorite songs is called God Delivers Again, and that's what it's about. I love it, because I know my God WILL deliver again. He's delivered me from a lot of the emotional problems I had and healed my spirit. I want healing to be my testimony. Maybe, though, God wants it to be all the things I did inspite of my sickness. The temptation to give up, to just stay in bed, is real, but I cannot do that. Jesus died on the cross to save me. What right do I have to refuse to serve Him just because I don't feel good? My testimony, right now, today, is this: Before, when I was diagnosed, I was angry, a lot, and for a long time, and I didn't want to serve. God brought me to a place when the tornado hit in April where I knew I didn't have any choice but to serve, and He sustained me through all of those weeks, and He sustains me even now. My body never feels like serving. It really doesn't. Every day we go to church, it's a sacrifice. My heart, though, wants to serve Jesus more than anything else in this world, and I think that's what's most important.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)