An attempt to declare the Glory of God for what He has chosen to do with our lives. A legacy to leave to my children in the telling of it.

Monday, November 12, 2012

A Good Swift Kick

The house is quiet. Too quiet for 8:32 on a Monday morning when there should be bustling kids getting their day started with Bible reading, school and chores. The boys aren't squirming in their bunk bed yet, starting the brotherly affections of headlocks and tooting contests. The girls aren't whispering and giggling, sharing secrets as the sun comes up.

But a quiet Monday morning house is nice. I see a few floating snowflakes out the kitchen window. The wood stove is going, the coffee has already been drank, the tears have been cried and my mind is overflowing with the word of God as my soul tries to comprehend the realities of it.

Everybody is tired out from a crazy schedule. The busy-ness is a defense mechanism. One that I am good at. Fill the days, keep your hands and feet moving, wait for eternity to begin. And then John tells me in direct answer to desperate prayers to work for the food that will last, not to invest in food that spoils (John 6:27). He reminds me that what Jesus said was true.

And I needed to be reminded. My natural tendency is that if I can't be busy, then I'll stay in bed and doubt, and whine, and complain. Against God. The God of the universe who has everything under His control and the God who only beckons me to press in harder, to hide in Him, to trust and wait.

I can still envision the scene in my mind from this summer when it first began. A camping trip with my sister, and only ten kids instead of eleven. The same campground, the same fishing boats, the same little sunfish ... The tears that haven't stopped flowing, and the indulgent baby steps of entering into the realm of allowing doubt to rule. I am entitled to my pity party. I have a lot to complain to God about. I am only human. My son is dead. So I ventured in, and enjoyed myself.

Like Job, who did I think I was to accuse the Almighty of anything, especially of making a mistake? I am but dust (Psalm 119). A vessel, made of clay of course (2 Corinthians 4:7), but a vessel none the less of a master craftsman (Isaiah 64:8). I cannot fathom how He works, I cannot fathom the glory to come, I cannot fathom the distance between His ways and mine (Isaiah 55:8-9).

I can also still envision the rebuke. The shower room where my heart doubted, the curtains separating the sinks and the shower heads, hiding two hurting hearts and the tears on both of our faces on opposite sides. "Don't ever indulge me in doubt," I finally proclaimed. I don't want to be encouraged to doubt God. His promises are enough. And, thank God, this sister of mine is good at giving swift kicks in the behind.

No, there is no room for doubt. Did Jesus doubt? What does doubt accomplish? For me it creates uselessness, for myself and my family. It creates despondency, and wastes the precious moments that I have been granted here, of the fleeting shadow of my days, which are already flowing as grains of sand through the hand, of which I will give an account for before this Holy God who has opened my eyes to Him.

If I say I believe, then I better be believing. There is much Kingdom work to be done, and it won't be accomplished while I am crying in my bed.

Jesus said, repeatedly actually, that He was telling the truth (John 5:19a, 5:25a, 6:26a, 6:32a, 6:47a, etc, etc, etc.). The prophets even testified to His promises and foretold of a time to come, a glorious time, when all would be made right.

Jeremiah 31:16
 This is what the Lord says:
“Restrain your voice from weeping
and your eyes from tears,
for your work will be rewarded,
declares the Lord.
 
The puppies are awake and the kids are getting noisy, which means Monday morning has officially begun. Here we go again, one day closer to eternity. What treasures shall I store up today?
 

10 comments:

Brenda said...

Have a blessed Monday!

the canned quilter said...

Hugs from Mama Hooch : )

Dalyn said...

sending you love and prayers for comfort~

Anne said...

I haven't been able to check in cuz of computer issues. But now when I do you speak right to my heart! The Jeremiah verse is just what I needed as I sit here listening to Jaz screaming during another visit. How I thank God for putting you in my life!

Hugs,
Annie

Jan said...

So that post struck a cord with me and got my warrior self perked up...God knew you would need a sister...even a twin, a reflection of yourself to accompany you through this, YOUR Great Commission and only she has the perfect sized boot print for your behind. I'm excited now about the rest of this story....I smell victory. I hear a call to arms and the shout of King. So God bless you, you're in my prayers and all that, but grab that Sword of Truth and march! He's alive! He's alive! He's alive! The enemy is defeated and he doesn't get to get you either.That makes me want to SHOUT and whoop holler!

TheLazyJ said...

Oh, Jan! As Terri's hinney-kicking twin sister, I just have to say, THANK YOU! I am covered in goose-bumps reading your response... What a call to arms! It is so easy, as Trent's aunt, to lose sight of the big picture of why God would call a boy home at the tender age of 12, and to feel defeated, and weary in the battle of grief. I know your words were meant for Terri, but I want you to know that my heart is lifted as well through your comments. This IS a battle that we are in, and the end has already been determined. We will be united with Trent again, in HEAVEN! God is sovereign, and God is good, and all is for His Glory! Praise God!

I also have to say that I'm glad that SOMEONE has finally realized that hinney-kicking is a GIFT from God! I've been trying to explain that to people for years! ha-ha!

OurCrazyFarm said...

Couldn't have said it better, Traci:))

Donna OShaughnessy said...

Crazy...meant to comment on Monday. Life got in the way, but still several days later your post stays with me. Across the miles I am wishing you peace this Thanksgiving and when you cry may they be giggles of joy with those sobs of grief, because laughter through tears is the best emotion ever. Hugs to you and all the little crazies!

Jan said...

knowing you two are here in the thick of battle with me makes me able to find the courage needed to fight the good fight of faith and for THAT I'm very thankful because I CANNOT help myself-I'm completely dependent on seeing Christ in others to help me find my way and in turn be able to reach out to someone else who's needing the same from me. I NEED broken vessels that shine that LIGHT, not perfect ones with manufactured illumination that scarcely emit anything resembling light. That's the Jesus the world needs to know and right now because later might not be. Thank YOU.

Unknown said...

His promises are true!