Sunday, October 1, 2017

Pain management

I'm very familiar with unresolved emotional pain.

The kind of pain that lingers on, when there isn't a happy ending, a sad ending, or a bad ending. There really is no ending. It continues to be there, and it will probably never go away. There's pain you can remove yourself from, and then there's some that you just can't.

Pain management became an area of expertise if I wanted to thrive as a healthy adult, a mother, a wife, a coworker, a friend. I have had to figure out how to keep moving despite the pain.

So overused, but maybe the phrase fits here; perhaps it's the thorn in my side? The brokenness of knowing what could have been but will never be. Voids that can't be filled, and yet I trust in the One who brings wholeness. Obedience that leads to hurt. And it's so incredibly painful at points, it's as if I'm leaning on a rail in a hospital in excruciating pain.

Some hurts will only be completely healed when we leave this world.

Resolution, restoration, and healing in the now are a breath of life that we take for granted.
Aren't they?

What a gift to be able to bring a taste of heaven on earth when we can come together with our differences, our hurts, our pain, and...
the wound heals a little,
maybe completely.

We have that ability within us, and yet don't always use it. Shouldn't we use it, if we can?

I used to be absolutely scared of confrontation, but since I've tasted and seen, I'm really starting to love it because of the healing it can bring.

To meet another person where they're at, empathize, bring my case to the table and be heard as well. To sit in it. See it for what it is. Maybe I'll say sorry. Maybe he'll fix the broken places. Maybe we'll hug. And then we move forward knowing we've been seen and heard.

It doesn't always go that way, but how beautiful is it when it does!

I let go of that rail on the wall at the hospital. The thorn is still there, but knowing I've got a hand to squeeze when it stings again is all I needed to be discharged and walk out of there.

Maybe that's why it's there. So I'll grab the hand when it hurts, and let you hold mine when yours does too. 

Thursday, September 7, 2017

grateful when weary from the waves

I'm weary.

Moving a couple months ago was challenging but the right thing. God provided every step of the way and we knew that this is something He wanted. 

The past couple of weeks have taken a turn that has left us reaching for our life jackets. My husband got a large, unexpected paycut. Unanticipated bills and circumstances also came floating up to the top of the water... they haven't quite made it here, but they're right there, on the horizon. A reminder that we won't stay afloat unless some holes in the boat get plugged.

I've settled well into my new job, the kids are settling well into their schools, but my husband has been seemingly left in an unsteady place. It hurts to see him in this position. While not the primary focus, but still an important one, it's hurting our bank account as well. We're doing all we know to do to take steps forward, out onto the water, but we're struggling to keep our focus.

This morning I decided to shift my view to gratitude. I've learned in God's word the importance of praise and gratefulness even in the trials. After all, we know that He's working for our good even when we can't see it. 

It took some work. I think a lot of us have a natural tendency to "fix" or "solve" the problem. But the kingdom of heaven is backwards guys, so instead of striving, I am sitting in it. Sitting in the middle of the mess and saying,

"God, thank you. Thank you for my children having good attitudes when they woke up for school this morning. Thank you for a van with semi functioning AC. Thank you for the wind in my hair. Thank you for food in the pantry today. Thank you for the current jobs we have. Thank you for moving us when you did... I can see now, if we had waited, we could not have financially made it because of this paycut. Your timing is perfect. You always work things out better than we could have fathomed. Thank you for the hard times that have produced endurance, so our faith doesn't fail when the waves grow higher. Thank you for laughter. Thank you for hope. I trust you to take care of this, to show us the way, to miraculously provide." 

And I take a deep breath and sit in it a little more. 

I can faintly hear Him speaking the waves into calmness, and I'm reaching for his hand as he pulls us up to stand on the water.