Red-Stained Mirror

Words. I live on words. They are what build me up and are what tear me down. Whether I am reading words off a page from the Bible or being inspired by some emotional speech in a movie, or being reprimanded for apparently being more stupid than normal, my mood is easily-altered by words. But as I reflect on such statements, I am reminded of how ridiculous that is. For if I am made in the image of God, than how can I allow myself to be seen in any other way other than how He sees me. When I look in the mirror…well, why do you think the color of love is red…?

This sacrificial love can be see in action. And over the last few weeks, I have seen that love on display. My mom has been here to help me out as Liz continues to recover from a blood clot that exists in her right leg. Since being here, mom has cleaned the house several times over, done countless loads of laundry, fed, bathed and tucked my kids into bed. She has been hurried out the door due to showings of the house. Mom has taken the kids to the park and run errands with them. She has sacrificed her time, her money, her sleep, her normalcy all to ease my burden. My gosh; how much more of an example do I need?!

Mom leaves tomorrow to go back to Lisbon, Portugal, where she and my dad serve as missionaries. I won’t see her for awhile. I won’t have access to the hug only a mom can give. Tomorrow, I will take the weight back from her that I had carried for awhile, but that she had taken from me so I could rest. God doesn’t give us more than we can handle because He puts people in our lives to help us through those overbearing moments. Energy has been restored. Shoulders are a little stronger. “I love you, Mom. You are someone I do listen to for your words are often times not your own. Thank you for being the mom that God knew I needed. I will miss you.”

Tomorrow is also going to be a big day in our home on the medical side of things. Liz has a doctor’s appointment tomorrow to discuss possible next steps in dealing with this blood clot. It is unchanged. It hasn’t grown or moved, but isn’t going away either. There is a chance that they will want to go in through surgery and try to remove it. Meaning? They want to drop her blood level down so that it thickens back up (running the risk of developing a clot), try and remove the current clot (which could potentially break apart  and travel to her brain, heart, or lung and cause all the extreme damage) and then watch her for a few days afterwards in the hospital (so that no other clot forms and that she can build her strength back up in her right leg.) More procedures, more hospital stays, more time away from the kids, more Dixon-family on-hold time. That sound you may hear is that of a hamster wheel…

This week, an all-to-familiar schedule will begin once again. Early mornings, school drop-offs, school pick-ups, baths, dinners, bedtimes, next day lunches, medicine distribution, house showings, WORK, and remembering to serve others as God did not call me to be just a taker. You know, we have all felt helpless at times. We have all felt pain and loneliness, and fear. We wants hugs, endearing words, and unending support. It is just hard sometimes to know what I have and to be unsure of what it is I need. I struggle with taking Sunday morning worship and applying to Sunday night anxiety. I am in a constant battle of time vs. money vs. necessity vs. big picture. I am not defined by one earthly thing. And if I am seen as such, you’re looking at me through the wrong mirror.

So God, what’s next? I am not looking to pick a fight or to beg you for more to be put on my plate. I fail miserably, on a daily-basis, at trusting you. Its as if I picture you sitting behind a desk in a poorly lit room wearing a green accountant visor. And your job is to budget out blessings and “tests” for me. Please forgive the heavy smoke in the room…its from the guy across the room who is smoking, while shooting spitballs at you and telling off-color jokes. You’re a bigger God than I can imagine. Your love exceeds all Hallmark cards combined. And your spilt blood is blinding-red. God, hold onto me this week. May the burden be light. Not because it is small in size, but because I am not carrying it alone. And may YOU be recognized for all the good in my life…because it most definitely far outweighs the bad.

And when my time has come and the end draws near, may I have been worth your time to make. You, Lord, are worth my time to seek.