Life Is In The Balance

It’s 9:30 on a Saturday night and I’m not sure where to begin. I don’t know if I am numb or spinning or drowning or is it that my cup is over-running? There seems to be a soulful struggle of wanting to be blessed by God and complaining about my life being too full. My mind never seems to shut off all the way. If I am at work, I am concerned about home. If I am home, I recognize the need to serve at my church. When at church, there are lingering thoughts of finances and next steps. When focused on carrying for my family, I am running through conversations I had at work and analyzing their meanings. I feel myself slipping into the absolute need for conversation. God’s silence can either be an evening walk through waist high wheat on a blue sky day that resembles the ocean waters of Heaven. And that same silence can be a warehouse room of thunder and razorblades. I begin to question everything. Where’s peace in that? Where is the enjoyment of life when everything around me is seemingly another trial? ………who said it was my life?

Liz is not doing well. The last surgery was unable to remove any of the clot(s) in her neck, shoulder, chest, or arm. Since then, Liz has passed out several times at home, continues to have chest pains on a very regular basis, and the pain on the left side of her body is now a constant companion. Being a mom has become much more difficult, especially to 5 adoring children. Being a friend and getting to socialize has become a daunting task. All the while, the doctor has thrown up his hands, throw in the towel, and has now said there is no more than he is able to do. Liz has an appointment with a new doctor in two weeks. Pills won’t cut it. Ice-packs and heating-pads are not helpful. And time isn’t working in her favor. Not to mention, her dizzy spells are more frequent and she has begun to pass out more and more. Hospitals won’t keep her, doctors have tried surgery, and medicine at home isn’t cutting it. The latest solution was physical therapy and pain management for the rest of her life…as a mother of five. We’re playing solitaire at the poker table; makes no sense.

Meanwhile, the God squad, the five children that live with me that remind me every day of God’s perfection, are really starting to try on life. Its no longer about mom or dad or brothers or sisters. They are each coming into their own persona. Mom being so sick and dad being so stressed and busied; these kids will grow up to be the most flexible people ever. Between friends loving them, teachers growing them, family supporting them, and their parents’ constant reminder of love…I pray these five continue to become angels in training. So very proud of the work they did this year in school. With plenty of struggles comes varied victories.

Isaiah 6:8 talks about being ready and going. Be willing to go when no one else is. To step up and lead. But to me, the first part of that verse is comical. Isaiah actually says, “Here am I.” As if God didn’t know. Yes, I understand that there is something to be said in the proclaiming that I am here and ready. I see the importance of being heard when God is seeking out those that that are willing to actually stand up for something more valuable than money-market accounts, TMZ’s breaking news, and whales. So desperately, I keep trying to stand up, only to find a hand on my shoulder holding me in the chair. Ecclesiastes 3 talks about the time and place for events and life’s purposes. What if instead of “…send me”, it is “thank you for using me where I am and preparing me for where you are taking me.” If I am where I am suppose to be, I don’t have to remind Him where I am. He knows because He put me here/there. Its no longer a dark room with a door on the ceiling. Lord, “Here am I. Use me wherever.”

I am struggling with God. Its a Father to a child relationship right now. Being needed more than ever at home has forced me to cut back on other areas in my life where I want to be. Forced sounds like such a strong word, but its what I needed to catch on. How could I lead anyone anywhere when those charged to my care were left to fend for themselves. What kind of man does that? I didn’t mean to. I wasn’t trying to do that. I just want to help others, talk to others, encourage others. The time between Sunday and Sunday is more than a week. “Here am I, Lord.” “Fine. Now stay put till I call you. I know where you are,” He says.

And then, one day, He showed me why. I have been to Honduras a couple of times over the last few years. I love serving in missions. I love being a part of the foundation of revolution of a country understanding the love that is theirs to be claimed. But this year, thus far, I am unable to travel South. And I was become more and more angry at God for this. How dare Him deny this blessing from me? (I know what I am missing.) But then, God to shut up and quit my whining. My pity-party almost cost me the reason why He had me wait for His timing.

The other day, while at work, was told that I needed to drive halfway across the Dallas/Ft. Worth metroplex to pick up a car. I needed to take someone with me who could drive the other car back. So, got the directions to the customer’s house, found a car (not taking mine. 🙂 ), and then a rider. Sitting next to me for the next 45 minutes…was a Honduran. God brought Honduras to me. God gave me an opportunity, in broken Spanish, to talk about this man’s home country and why I had fallen in love with his motherland. And now, this man that has been there for about three and a half months has a friend. He spends 90% of the day by himself parking cars and trying to what he can to stay under the radar and just blend in. But now, we talk several times a day and I get the chance to share a Christ-like love with a man from Honduras, while my church travels to share that same love with his countrymen. ……..of all the countries in the world where this man could have been from……….”Here am I, Lord. Just use me.”

I continue to have a heart that outlasts my overly-occupied mind and worn down body. And I pray I never change. I want to care about others ahead of myself for the rest of my life. The more I live, the more unsure I am about tomorrow. On purpose. And yet, daily, you have to understand that I fall in love with who my God has always been. I’m just not starting to figure Him out, a little. There’s a part of me that doesn’t know where or how to stop. The Christian adage “Let Go and Let God” feels like I am giving up. Like He gave me a task and I was unable to complete it. I spend so much time trying to make everything right for everyone that I don’t even get the puzzle that’s being put together.

A joyful noise is made in worship. Worship is a heart thing. So it just goes to reason that a joy-filled noise is a heart thing. Being down, blaming God for not giving me a turn, or debating blessings versus burdens can not consume another day.

Done after this: earlier this morning, I came out of the bedroom as I was finishing a conversation with Liz about something at work. I am not even sure of the word, but Logan was laying on the loveseat and said, “Daddy, what does _______ mean?” (It wasn’t a “bad” word, just don’t remember at all what the word was. I promise! LOL!) I turned and looked at him and we both were smiling and about the same thing. I asked, “Were you listening to me?” He just smiles so big, kinda smirks, and says, “I always listen to you, Daddy.”

Can I say the same thing to my Heavenly Father?

 

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