I wonder sometimes, if I’m not writing as often because I have more to write about than time to write it, or whether it is because the time I’m spending on other things makes my writing ideas seem unimportant.
I am struggling with disciplining myself to do anything with as much consistency as I should. But I’m learning to ask God to stand with me when I would rather procrastinate than show the discipline that brings so much more order and peace to my life.
I’m seeing in new coworkers my old faults that I never recognized before the sabbatical, and wondering how to best help them to avoid the inevitable end that they are creating for themselves. Then I stop myself and thank God for showing me (from the outside) what I used to look like to others. I ask, “God are you showing me this stubbornness so that I can know why you have allowed me to endure certain things and to bring me to an even greater depth of gratitude for saving me from myself? or are you asking me to help this person in some way?” I am inadequate to truly help others who refuse to hear, but I believe in prayer and know that my intercession is the most powerful thing I can do until He leads me in another direction.
I see my children, in each of their new schools, and wonder if I am involved enough, or am I trusting them to grow into the lives and characters we have raised them to have.
I write to my husband each day (just texting really) and know that much is lost in the time difference and awkwardness of a phone interface, and I hope that my heart shows through. Should I write more, fearing to burden him with my day to day struggles? Then a gentle nudge reminds me that keeping him aprised of the mundane, (which the so called experts will tell you not to do to help them focus on their current duties) is actually helpful to him and eases his mind. He needs to know so that he can check those things off of his mental list, and that list will not become a cluttered distraction.
(Experts think that men don’t worry about whether the car is washed or the deck is swept unless their wives remind them. But my husband does think about those things, and trying not to talk about that stuff just makes us both nuts. Talking about it gives us some sense if normalcy in a very un-normal situation.)
I am reminded by all of these small juxtapositions that questioning brings hesitation in my faith. (God loves good questions, but my questioning has been of myself – not of Him.) I am reminded that many of my questions come from old habits of people pleasing and self-doubt. I must trust Him to turn my questions into declarations.
I am not controlled by my imperfections and my desperation to avoid them – God has begun a good work in me and he is faithful to complete it.
I am not controlled by the need to prove myself – God is my strength and my shield. He has redeemed me.
I am not controlled by doubt – He is my certainty and my reward.
I am not controlled by silly advice given by so-called experts who fill us with band-aid cures for long term issues – God is the great physician, who knits us together in our mothers’ wombs, and He knows what brings healing to every hurt and peace to every situation.
It matters not whether my thoughts are too little or too much, I am held in the hands of the most high who places me just where He needs me whether for my good or the good of others. I will trust in Him.