A different kind of thankfulness

This morning my car wouldn't start. Yep, the day before Thanksgiving with errands to run, I woke up early to get to town & back before the crowds. But there it was, another reminder of just how much fun life is right now. Don't get me wrong, I have plenty to be thankful for but it's become increasingly difficult over the past few weeks to gaze into the darkness & look for the light, any light.
This isn't me. This isn't who I am, who I've always been. I used to think I was a pragmatist, seeing things in a very practical way so as not to make them more than what they are. I'm definitely not a pessimist, that much is true. But I never viewed myself as much of an optimist either. It's become apparent to me that perhaps what I have always been would be best described as a hope-timist.
As life has rolled on, I would see things as they were but could ALWAYS see Hope in any situation. I could easily spot God's goodness & find rest there. But with life changing so fast, in so many unpleasant ways, that Hope I had always spotted seemed almost like a dream of years gone by, becoming harder & harder to spot as the days roll on.
I picked up the phone & called daddy. "Yes, it seems as though the battery is bad.....Yes, you can use mom's car when she gets back." But then, the plan suddenly changed. I would ride with momma to gma's house, take her car while she took gma to the Dr in gma's van, then come back to pick her up. There it was in a tiny measure - Hope.
But then as I knelt down beside her van to lift gma's legs to get her safely seated, my hope was dashed again. The long term steroid treatment for the pneumonia has caused a dramatic change in not only her appearance but also her physical abilities. I gently cupped her foot and carefully placed it inside the van. Flashbacks of the journey recently traveled flooded my mind, then my eyes. I don't want to do this again. I'm just not ready.
I cried all the way to town but found solace when "Be Still My Soul" began to play over the radio. I listened, NO REALLY LISTENED, to the words this time like never before. 

"Be still my soul, the Lord is on your side. Bear patiently the cross of grief and pain." Oh man, the cross of grief and pain - check! I've got that one down pat! The whirlwind of storms that are raging right now, threatening with every wave to draw me under, are my present, everyday, every moment reality. I'm bearing it buddy. That Hope that I've always seen, I've always heard beckoning to me, is being drown out by even the simplest of things at this point. An overflowing toilet caused me to have a sobbing-so-badly-you-can't-catch-your-breath breakdown Monday. Right now, I'm not bearing much patiently either. I want this grieving thing to be over. I want to move on to the happy, fluffy clouds and cute bunnies part of life - like yesterday!

"Leave to thy God to order and provide, in EVERY change he faithful will remain." There is no doubt that life is changing. At 38yrs old, I have found myself in roles that I never would have envisioned, doing things I never wanted to do. At times I feel more like a fourth daughter than a granddaughter. Recently walking one gma right up to the finish line through the loss of her physical, mental and emotional abilities has left me with memories - some pleasant that I would not change for anything, but others that bring back floods of tears for the things that we had to do for her, to her. The yelling, the hitting, the accusations were only temporary but their memory drowns out my hope sometimes. I'm in a place now where I'm pumping myself up to face it again, sooner than I would like. That drowns out my hope too. Still, I am disciplining myself now to intentionally look for God's goodness, His order, His provision, his faithfulness when mine is waning. The beautiful fall leaves changing. The phone call made at the perfect, God ordered, time this morning. The opportunity to humbly and lovingly lift gma's feet today. God is so faithful through it all, even if it's harder for me to see it at times.

"Be still my soul, your best, your heavenly Friend. Through stormy waves leads to a joyful end." To be completely honest, I've started this particular blog over six times in two weeks. I realized this morning why. I'm not looking forward to tomorrow at all. Thanksgiving has ALWAYS been my favorite holiday. Because of my Hope-timist personality, I've found it rather simple to ALWAYS find something to be thankful for but this year I'm struggling. Yes, I'm thankful for a house and food and transportation, but that's not the sum total of what I've typically thankful for. With stormy waves crashing all around me, my focus has been broken. My gaze has been set into the darkness, wanting, praying, begging for a light. Yet week after week, I've continued faking right along that everything is ok, that I'm ok. But I'm not. 

Like medicine to my soul, my friend Stacey sent me a blog a few weeks ago though. I've referred back to it many times, probably more than any other blog I've read. SheReadsTruth had a blog series about hymns. "Be Still My Soul" was one of those. (http://shereadstruth.com/2015/11/11/be-still-my-soul/) It was through that blog that I learned, "Even in the most joyful tones of life, as in music, the space between the notes is just as important as the notes themselves......If space is a kind of loss, the comfort of the stanza is this: like notes on a page, we ought submit ourselves to receive the notes themselves (like joy) and the space between the notes (like loss) before God." Loss. That's all I've been able to focus on lately. Bearing that cross of grief and pain. And the idea of submitting or turning myself over for anything, especially more pain & grief, right now is simply overwhelming. (Did I tell you that I don't want to do this again?????)

But it was the end of the version of "Be Still My Soul" that caught me up short. Selah ends their version with the end of the first verse from "What A Friend We Have In Jesus" - "Oh what peace we often forfeit. Oh what needless pain we bear. All because we do not carry everything to God in prayer." This is my storm, my pain, my grief. I don't want to share with anyone. I've been bobbing in these storms for weeks, virtually alone, isolating myself, by choice, because I am afraid of what is coming next, be it small and simple or completely life altering. I am afraid that I'll never be able to just see God's goodness when I look around like I used to. I'm afraid I will have to be disciplined to do this for a long time to come. I'm afraid that this is the new me, serious and melancholy. And I don't like this me. I'm weary already. But then - 

Be still my soul, the Lord is on your side. Look at the peace you're forfeiting. Look at the needless pain you're bearing. All because you refuse to carry everything to God in prayer. I know now what I must do.

Today, I am truly thankful for a car that wouldn't start. I'm thankful for precious moments with gma and the awesome privilege of walking her through this new journey. I'm thankful for the yelling out, the hitting, the accusations because they all made gma more real to me. They helped me realize the depth of love that I had for her, a love that will always remain, like my faithful Friend. I'm trying to be thankful for the spaces. But I am thankful for a life that isn't easy because it causes me to grow. I'm thankful that I'm not who I used to be as much as I'm thankful that He's not done with me yet. I'm thankful that the stormy waves truly do lead to a joyful end.

Thank you Jesus.

Thank you Jesus for Hope.

Learning life's most precious lessons

Tonight there is a tiny twinge of anxiousness at our house. No, the kids are fine. It's me.
This year marks the fifteenth year we've been homeschooling. Surely in those fifteen years I've gotten things down to a fine science of routine & discipline, right? No. Just as each child is different, each year has presented new challenges & opportunities. This year it was "How does school work when you're caregiving?" The answer I've come up with is "One day at a time".
We've always waited until after Labor Day to start our formal educating periods. (I'm pretty sure it's the rebel in me.) This year, that day fell much later than usual, the latest it possibly could, September 8. Because of the whirlwind of activity in August, I wasn't as prepared as I typically am. Missing workbooks & a lack of supplies took its toll on our glorious beginning. Football season was in full swing, which also caused us to have setbacks.
Many of our days were spent running from this outside class to that, checking on gma, yelling & crying about completing work during the precious few hours I had with my children, then ending with football practice for our middle guy with the two youngest in the care of their oldest brother until dad could get home while I was with gma & momma. Distractions were at a premium. We muddled through, each miserable in our own right, five weeks of work. Then there was October.
October changed everything. There was this one week, the week of October 4. My aunt started chemo that week. My cousin's little guy got sick. That Wednesday stands out as the day everything changed. It was the last day my kids got any schoolwork done.
I had hit rock bottom. The overwhelming responsibility I have as their sole educator engulfed me. I can't tell you how many times I simply broke down in hopeless despair that my children, you know, the ones I stay at home for, were getting the short end of the stick.
But it was also the day momma had issued an ultimatum - Go have tea with Susan or I'll call her for you myself.
You see, God placed Susan in my life six years ago in my Bible study small group. It was my first year there. I was in a place that I desperately needed to learn to trust people again. For Susan, it was the year they pulled their girls out of school to homeschool AND the year her father passed away. She, along with her mom, were his primary caregivers. Our friendship quickly grew.
When you homeschool, people watch you very closely. Because of this, there is an added pressure to perform. If anyone knew what I was struggling with in this school year, it was her. So I relented. I had basically begged her for our Wednesday morning tea time at McDonald's.
That morning she sat with me, listened to my concerns, cried with me, loved on me then gently placed her hand on mine & spoke one word - Stop. Stop trying to perform. Stop trying to do it all. Stop trying to live as if life is normal right now. She told me about days, even weeks, when they would just pile up in the bed to enjoy each other & watch movies together. She reminded me that the education her girls got during that time could never be rivaled by any book learning they could have done. I know her two precious girls & I can vouch for the fact that they are both amazing young ladies who are full of love & compassion rarely seen in young ladies their age. They didn't suffer at all academically for the time they chose to just live life. Then she referenced a verse from Joel about God restoring the years the locusts striped away. And that was it. That was what I had so desperately needed to hear. The tears faded away, the clouds of doom began to part & hope began to grow deep inside me.
I listened to Joel 2 on the way to my aunt's house that afternoon. The absolute destruction God's people faced could only be restored by a gracious & compassionate God who is slow to anger & abounds in love. He saw their situation & he took pity on them. He would send them not just enough, but enough to satisfy them FULLY. They never need to be ashamed again.
We put the schoolwork away that afternoon. We enjoyed every single second we could learning life lessons over the next two and a half weeks. We spent every moment we could with the great grandmother who lived next door that my children have never known life without. I regret NOTHING! Just as God used that time in my life to shape who I am, he will use it in their lives too, in who they will become.
So after two weeks of a break from everything following gma's victorious finish, we will start formal schooling again tomorrow. I know there will be bumps. I know there will be kinks. It will be almost like our first day of 2015.
But true to his character, Saturday morning as I sat on the floor in a room full of women who are far more godly than I, he gave me something more. Something to satisfy me until I was full. As I listened to them tell God who he had been in their lives that week, I heard one word - Teacher. All of the things I've learned since July, all of the lessons so diligently taught - he was teaching my children then too. So tonight as I log off, I will take hold of that Teacher's hand with the calm reassurance that tomorrow morning & in the mornings that follow, I will merely facilitate that teaching. He's taught their hearts, now I will assist in the progress of their minds.