It seems like a common thing.  I see it in pictures, notice it in the way people interact, feel it in the way I don’t quite fit in.  History.  It’s normal, right?  To have people in your life that you’ve known for a long enough time that a relationship of some kind has formed, to be comfortable around someone just because you’ve been around them so much…and vice versa.

History is something I find myself lacking, though.  My early childhood years were spent moving around, switching schools…never in one place for more than a year until I was 10 years old.  Those ten years ensured that no “history” was established with anyone other than my family.  They also made it hard for me to find my way into anyone else’s world…partly because, even at 10 years old, I felt like I was intruding on someone’s already established realm of relationship, partly because I think I had already learned that it’s easier when the time comes to leave if there are no ties to sever.

So, I spent my adolescence barely forming any history with anyone.  I went to college.  I spent more time around people.  I made a few friends.  I established history with some.  These are people I can generally be myself around…but rarely have the chance to be around because of distance.  And, as it turns out, college was apparently the only opportunity I would have to form history.

The following years have been comprised of countless experiences of, again, feeling like I am intruding on someone else’s story.  It’s hard, when surrounded by people that have already written themselves into each others’ histories, to try to find a place there.  Who is going to choose to be around someone unfamiliar and awkward when they can be around someone, or many someones, who are already known by them?  The answer is really almost nobody.

It seems some people are skilled at just inserting themselves into the lives of others and making it seem like they have always been there, but I’m not one of them.  I stink at pretending.  I’m not comfortable around anyone right away…which probably means nobody is comfortable around me, either.  Which also probably means they don’t really want to spend time with me.  Which means I won’t ever know anyone enough to be comfortable around them…and so on.

I’ve been told that thinking like this is a lie from the enemy, but I think it is the reality of human nature and that I happened to fall on the wrong side of the equation.  Somehow, somewhere there is a lesson in this…an opportunity to lean more heavily on the Lord; a chance for gratitude that, at least, I have a husband who is my very best friend; a refining process that will help sift out the chaff in me…but at the end of the day, my heart still aches from being on the outside.

Do you ever feel like there’s a battle going on and you’re the only one who sees it?  If you have, and you’re like me, then you end up feeling like you’re crazy, at worst, or without recourse, at best.  There are times I feel like God is desperate to be heard, but nobody is seeking Him, much less listening to what He’s saying.  And often, this is in the midst everything “appearing” to be going well.  So, I stand bewildered among people who say God is doing great things, as my spirit is burdened with the sorrow of God’s heart breaking because He hasn’t been given His rightful place.

I know, it sounds presumptuous of me.  It sounds like I must be the one who’s off my rocker.  Why would God reveal something to my heart that nobody else is seeing?  And so I question my motives.  Could I be holding some grudge that is clouding my understanding?  Is there some sin in me that disqualifies me from hearing from the Lord?  Am I just being critical or quick to judge when I should be patient and forgiving?  Have I, somehow, become so distant from the Lord that I’ve forgotten how to discern His voice from every other?

I hesitate to answer any of those questions with absolute certainty.  I fear becoming overconfident and blinded to truth, or speaking in haste and causing offense.  But even as I pray, the burden remains.  The sorrow weighs on my heart.  It doesn’t make sense that God would speak to me, except to have me pray.  There’s nothing else I can do.  Who would listen, even if I said something?

And though, to be honest, I often feel like my prayers are a paltry effort in the overall goal of accomplishing His purposes, His Word promises that the effectual, fervent prayer of a righteous man will avail much.  I will leave it in His hands to do the rest.  Obviously, He’s the only One who can effect a change, anyway.

I’ve had a pretty good week, so far.  Church on Sunday was convicting and challenging and necessary for my soul.  Aside from a couple headaches, that were annoying but not debilitating, I have felt pretty good.  The days have been beautiful.  I have not sat on the couch all day, every day (which is a change from the past several weeks)…not that I have made much of a dent in the mountain of housework that needs to be caught up on, but I feel like an end is in sight.  We got some new gravel for our driveway, which will hopefully eliminate (or at least ameliorate) our problem of it becoming a bit of a mud-pit when it rains.  I’ve done a couple short runs on the treadmill.  I’ve had some unexpected, but welcome, conversations.  We’ve found a midwife who will likely be willing to travel from Albany to attend a homebirth VBAC…AND a local OB who says she is willing to provide partial prenatal care for the aforementioned birth (kind of important so that I don’t have to make the 8 hour round-trip visit to the midwife that frequently), knowing it will be an at-home VBAC with a midwife (when I was told that she was willing, I was pretty dumbfounded, honestly).

It’s been a week of good things that make me feel blessed – make me feel less overwhelmed, less worried, less like I want to go hide in the far corner of some dark closet.  Right now, in this moment, it’s easy for me to recognize that God takes care of me.  It’s easy to say ‘thank you, Lord’.  It’s easy to get a little choked up at His goodness to me.

But, I am also acutely aware that I have been quick to abandon a grateful heart when the blessings are harder to spot.  I have loosened my grip on an eternal perspective far too easily when temporary struggles enter my vision.  I have questioned God and doubted His plan more than I would really like to admit.  And I have felt ashamed by my lack of faith and my easily distracted and deceived heart.

Yet, even so, God knew me in my weakness and frailty, and has poured out His mercy to me this week.  My attitude has not been one deserving of blessing, but He looks on me with compassion, nonetheless.  When I am nothing short of unlovable, He loves me, and He makes sure I know.  He is ever my pursuer – though I have yet to understand why – and I am still taken by surprise at His tireless and dauntless desire for my heart.  He is faithful, and gracious, and good.  Yes, I am thankful for my God.

Sometimes life is hard.  And sometimes it’s hard in an obvious, really-big-trial kind of way.  But sometimes it’s hard in a one-more-little-thing kind of way.  It’s the kind of way that’s hardly noticeable to someone who isn’t dealing with it.  The kind of way that makes a person almost embarrassed to say they’re struggling, because, really, who’s going to believe that the wasp in the dining room is even something worth mentioning?

Right now, life is hard for me.  And it isn’t any big thing that has me floundering.  It’s the “everything” that keeps adding up, one little thing on top of another.  It’s the muddy driveway, and faulty electric, and the vomiting, again, and the congestion, again, and the discouraging budget, and the 18 pounds of pregnancy weight already, and the almost-daily headaches, and the uncomfortable mattress, and the $700 gas bill, and the mildew in the unvented bathroom, and the broken window, and the broken plunger, and the drawings on the walls,  and the late-night bed wetting accident, and the week my dad spent in the hospital, and the conversations that don’t happen, and the arguments that shouldn’t happen, and lack of motivation, and a heart that deceives, and more projects, and uncertainty about the future, and worries about failure, and the camper that we’ve never used that leaks and probably did before we got it, and broken chairs… and the wasp in the dining room – but, not just one wasp, because somehow many have found their way in, lately.  It all makes life hard for me.  And it makes me feel foolish for letting the little things make life hard.  And it makes me think my faith must be so small to be undone by things that are mostly of little consequence in even only a slightly larger view of life.  Nonetheless, this is where I am.  Maybe I am weak…foolish…whatever.  Maybe my faith is proving to be much less than it should be.  Maybe, knowing this, others would see me as less of a Christian…I really don’t know.

But, what I do know is this.  God sees me where I am.  And whatever my condition says about the state of my soul, He knows the whole truth of it.  He knows if there’s selfishness, or laziness, or pride.  He knows if there’s refining, or growth, or lessons learned.  And He knows why.  And He’s promised to work it all out for my good.

I’m not good at many things.  In fact, I would be hard-pressed to come up with anything that I think I do well.  And you might accuse me of false humility, or of being overly critical of myself, but it really is true.  I can do plenty of things “well-enough”, but there’s nothing extraordinary about me.

I would be lying if I said that this has never bothered me.  Everyone wants to be exceptional in some way, right?  I’ve often wished I could sing, or create great artwork, or have a brilliant scientific mind, or be a phenomenal athlete.  I’ve thought that a stunning appearance or a more outgoing personality would make me important…or influential…or more than I am without them.  And in some ways, that would certainly be the case.  But, God isn’t in the business of working to increase my glory.    I’m learning, slowly, that the plainness of this person God has made me is purposeful.  Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 4:5-7

For we do not preach ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, and ourselves as your servants for Jesus’ sake.  For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ.  But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us.

The more ordinary I am, it seems, the more obvious it is that anything good in me comes from the Lord.  If anyone sees light in my life, since it’s obviously not coming from any beauty or talent that I possess, it is that much more easily attributed to the Lord…by me and by others.

Brothers, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong.  He chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things–and the things that are not–to nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before him.  It is because of him that you are in Christ Jesus, who has become for us wisdom from God–that is, our righteousness, holiness and redemption. Therefore, as it is written: “Let him who boasts boast in the Lord.” —I Corinthians 1:26-31

So, what does this mean for my life?  It means, perhaps, I should be less concerned with my external appearances, and more concerned with my submission to the Lord.  Perhaps, I need to come to a better understanding that my value to God isn’t based on my skillset…that He chose me in my imperfection and un-remarkable-ness…and that He can use me to display His glory.

Certainly, He uses the gifts He’s given His children to bring Him glory, too.  There are so many extraordinarily talented people bringing Him glory through their gifts.  But, I guess the point of it all is this: regardless of whether I am amazing at something, or whether my best efforts only ever bring mediocre results…God can glorify Himself through me, and I have nothing to boast in except Him.

While reading the story of Jesus walking on water to my kids tonight, I thought of a song by Don Francisco called Voyage to Gennesaret.  If you haven’t ever heard of it, I understand…it’s probably a few decades old.  But anyway, I sang it (rather poorly) for my kids, then proceeded to find it on youtube, which led me find a song (also by Don Francisco) that was my absolute favorite song from the time I was, like, five (?) into my late teens.  I’m not normally a “folk music” kind of person, but really, I don’t usually care much about the style of music if the message is good.  And as it happens, I love the messages in a LOT of Don Francisco songs.  But, today, I thought I would just share with you a link for He’s Alive.  ‘Cause it’s still one of my absolute favorites.

This past week has been a hard one.  Some weeks are, I guess.  We had 3 kids throwing up on and off until yesterday.  Tim got a cold mid-week, and now I have it, too.  We are exhausted and frustrated and overwhelmed.

This seems to be how life goes, lately, though.  Lots of “little” things chipping away at our time, our motivation, our resolve, our hope, our joy…and very little, if anything, to offer strength or encouragement or peace.  As we struggle to understand God’s plans and purposes and promises, it feels as though the little understanding we have gets tested and tried, and leaves us wondering what the point of this all is.

We’ve had some disillusionment and some disappointment, yet we look back on things where we clearly felt God leading us and try to cling to the knowledge that He knows what He’s doing, and it will be for our good.  We find ourselves constantly coming before Him…admittedly, not always with the best attitudes, but with the knowledge that He is the only One who can sustain and strengthen and somehow lead us through this wilderness we find ourselves wandering.

There are times we feel desperate for someone to come alongside us…to encourage or rebuke or pray…but in the absence of that, we are learning more and more that God has to be enough for us, that His word has to be the standard for our faith, that this life isn’t really about us, anyway.  It is hard, though, and we’re tired.

 
Yet, this I call to mind and therefore I have hope – because of the Lord’s great love we  are not consumed, for His compassions never fail; they are new every morning.  Great is Your faithfulness.  I say to myself, “the Lord is my portion, therefore I will wait for Him”.  The Lord is good to those whose hope is in Him, to the One who seeks Him.  It is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord. — Lamentations 3:21-26

On my mind today…

And you have forgotten that word of encouragement that addresses you as sons: “My son, do not make light of the Lord’s discipline, and do not lose heart when he rebukes you, because the Lord disciplines those he loves, and he punishes everyone he accepts as a son.” Endure hardship as discipline; God is treating you as sons. For what son is not disciplined by his father? If you are not disciplined (and everyone undergoes discipline), then you are illegitimate children and not true sons.  Moreover, we have all had human fathers who disciplined us and we respected them for it. How much more should we submit to the Father of our spirits and live!  Our fathers disciplined us for a little while as they thought best; but God disciplines us for our good, that we may share in his holiness. No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it. —Hebrews 12:5-11
A couple things struck me about this today.  The first is that it is described as a “word of encouragement” that we are disciplined by the Lord.  I guess maybe I am stuck a little bit in the 5-year old mentality, but I don’t naturally feel encouraged when I experience the Lord’s discipline and punishment.  I tend to wonder if I have messed up beyond hope.  I think that God must be so disappointed in me…and sometimes, rather than seeing the discipline for what it is, I mistake it for God abandoning me to my own devices because He just doesn’t care to deal with me any more.  The reality, though, is just the opposite.  He loves me.  I am His child.  Discipline shows His faithfulness to me.  And in that light, it is truly encouraging.

I thought about hardship as discipline, and discipline as a necessary component to the lives of God’s children.  While I do usually equate hardship with discipline, I often take it to mean I have failed in some huge way and that things aren’t going well for me because I didn’t do everything right.  And I suppose, on some very general level, that might be true.  Without sin in my life, things would probably be a lot easier, but I think the bigger picture here is that God is using the hardship to refine and make me better, not to make me miss out on something because I messed up…and that it is the life that lacks hardship and discipline that should be cause for concern.

And I thought about the statement that “no discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful”.  See, sometimes, I think that “if my faith was stronger”, discipline would just roll off my back – that I would recognize it for what it is, learn my lesson and move on with relative ease.  But no.  It is painful.  Chances are, I won’t like it.  But, later on, I will benefit from it.  Some day, I will see the good God has worked through discipline in me.  And that’s the perspective that gives me hope in the midst of trial – trusting in God’s faithfulness and ability to see beyond my present circumstance…and knowing that it’s okay that it’s sometimes hard.

If you were to ask me whether there is any person equal to God in goodness, holiness, justice, wisdom…or the like…I would certainly say “of course not!”.  It’s ludicrous, right?  But you know what?  I think somewhere in the depths of my heart, there is some tendency to believe otherwise.

When I see something that [I perceive] is a flaw in a Christian that I normally respect and admire, I often end up projecting my disappointment on God.  I wonder how God could allow such a flaw/sin/misconception to exist in someone who is supposedly living their life for Him.

And in the midst of one such moment of wondering, I happened to be listening to a song that proclaims “You are holy, holy, holy…” and I was struck by the simple fact that He is being praised because of His holiness…in part, because it is something that is unique to Him.  He reminded me that He is holy, but every person I will ever meet is a sinner, has weaknesses, lacks infinite wisdom – and my faith, my hope, my peace can never rest in another person.

I know it’s true that God will work through His people – even though wrought with imperfection – but I need to make certain I realize that God’s not surprised or limited by those imperfections, that He is faithful even when we’re not, that He is our judge, and that He has given us His Word as a standard by which to make sure that what we’re hearing and believing is truth.  Because we’re human and He’s not.  He’s better than us.

Thankful…

…for a husband who cooked me a Valentine’s Day dinner (a day early)…including the most perfectly cooked salt potatoes ever (I know, it seems like a small thing, but they were really good).

…for a four year old who hums in the shower

…that when I unknowingly turn on the wrong burner on the stove, and then set a rubberized oven mitt on it, it is warm enough outside that I can open all of the doors to air out the smell without freezing everyone in the house.

…for energy, motivation, and the necessary gastrointestinal fortitude to vacuum this morning.

…for a daughter who thoughtfully got clothes out for her brother this morning.

…for sunshine.

…for maternity pants, even when I need them much too early on in pregnancy.

…for a two year old who is finally learning to say “please”.

…for a second grader who is a great independent learner.

…that there is no longer “pink slime” in McDonald’s burgers…’cause I really love Big Macs.

…for a God who is continually revealing Himself to me and teaching me and and reminding me that He has my life in His hands.