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Friday, July 27, 2018

When you can't save someone you love from the pain



Did you know that all moms have a superpower?

It's called, "Let-me-kiss-it-and-make-it-all-better!"

It's also known as "I-would-step-in-front-of-a-speeding-train-to-save-you!"

Moms care. Deeply. Passionately. Too much at times.

From the moment we are aware of the life within us, we don our Supermom capes and with the wind blowing them out behind us, we take our stand firmly on the Mountain of Love, vowing to do whatever is necessary to protect this wee one entrusted to us against any pain or sadness.

And Lord knows we have to! I've never met a child yet who entered the world fully capable of taking care of themselves physically or mentally! As much as their crying and clinging and needs can drive us crazy, they also empower us with a feeling that we are Needed. Necessary. Able with a single leap to put that smile back on a child's hurting face.

So for 18 some odd years that super power grows. And it feels good. And it works!

Then the day comes when your child is no longer a child, but an adult....who's now busy guarding and caring for his own family. And his wife has her own Supermom cape, and ours has been relegated to mothballs. As it should be.

Until the day suffering comes crashing in...throwing loved ones left and right and leaving a wake of brokenness and tears in its wake.

And it happens to YOUR BABY!

And not just YOUR BABY, but YOUR BABY'S BABIES!

"How dare you?" we cry as we run to the closet, frantically searching for our discarded cape, mothballs rolling across the floor.

"Show me the Monster that dare hurt my child! I shall slay it with a thousand swords!"

And God knows we mean it with all of our heart...a heart that still lives and beats for the good of our child.

But the years have humbled us...we have lived too long and seen too much. Suffering and loss and shattered dreams have become a fact of life. And band aids and kisses will never fix the pain again.

What do you do at a time like this?

What do I do at a time like this?

I get angry. And I get angry. And angry yet again.

Angry that sin ever entered the world...that it stole what was once perfect and whole and good. And replaced it with pain and suffering and death.

We all have a longing in us for the way it was meant to be. And I think Moms especially operate under this power. It's what gives us the vision and strength to do and be all that is best for our children and family.

Until the day comes that we can't.

Tuesday, July 10, 2018

When compromise seems the best way to get where you want to be





Yesterday I found out there is a new birding store opening nearby, and the call is out for a part-time Manager. If you know me at all, you know this makes my eyes light up and my feet start doing their clumsy, albeit joyful Happy Dance. Doing something I love and getting paid for it? I guess I could suffer through that!

So as the day progressed, I eagerly made time to sit down and read the fine print...what would be required, duties, etc. I was moving along at high speed, checking off each requirement with an I can do that! until I got to the one that stopped me short. The one that always stops me short. The one that has caused me to be passed over before: Must be available to work weekends. NOOOO!!!!

And thus began the mind game I play oh-so-well with myself and God. Gosh, I'm sure I'd win if He would just once not play with me!

Me: Well, that's interesting. I wonder if it means Saturday AND Sunday? 

God: That is the weekend.

Me: Well, maybe they mean after noon on Sunday. I mean really, we are in the South. And going to church is a given here. 

God: Does that make a difference?

Me: But. But. But. 

End of conversation. I'm sure He would have been willing to carry it further but I've had this conversation so many times that I already know how it will end. It all boils down to this one request He asked of me many, many years ago...

Honor Me by giving Me Sunday. Through it I will bless you and others. 

And you know, it wasn't hard back then! I was too busy raising a family to care about working on a Sunday. I gladly welcomed a day of rest...a day with God and family. Such a gift!

When did I stop seeing it as a gift?