As I was waiting for the water trough to fill for the horses this morning, I spent some time walking across the pasture and just looking all around. Most of my life I've spent dreaming of something better. More of this, less of that. But really, as I looked around, I don't think it gets better than this! Rich green grass, a bright blue sky with some fluffy white clouds for accents, a cool, refreshing breeze, warm but not hot... a hay field just over the fence, freshly cut and baled and safely stored away. Acres of fields and woods for the kids to play in. A huge, mostly level yard perfect for ball games and picnics. Relatively quiet country roads. Horses and cows contentedly munching the grass. Roosters crowing in the background. And glorious sunshine pouring in over it all.
And as I reflect, I feel tears starting to well. I'm so, so grateful. Last night, to be honest, I cried myself to sleep. I felt like such an incredible failure. The kids have done nothing but bicker and fight the last couple of days. The oldest has been resisting taking responsibility for himself. I've been doing a lot of cleaning, unpacking, decluttering, and basically moving in after 2 years of existing in this house, but it seems like dirt and clutter just gravitate back to the same old spots. It feels like an endless losing battle. School is starting very soon, and I need to finish getting everything organized and together. I'm not spending the time with the kids they want, doing fun things together over this summer break. The garden has weeds in it, and the green beans should have been picked but weren't. Several projects I was determined to get done this summer are still unfinished. I'm just not enough. I don't reach around. The demands on my time and energy are bigger than the resources at my command, and the pressure to perform it ALL is crushing.
But in it all, I still find gratefulness to overwhelm my reflective moments. More and more thanksgiving is replacing my old habits of doubt, worry, fear, and keeping up appearances. All the sermons I've heard and books I've read encouraging, even demanding, thankfulness meant nothing to me except one more thing I was doing wrong. One more failure. More discouragement piled on top of the already unbearable load.
So, where was the grateful heart hiding all these many years?
It was hiding under the pile of condemnation. The feeling that I had to have all my ducks in a neat, smiling little row, and if I didn't, well, I wasn't a very good Christian. Obvious, right?
Well, I'm going to let you in on a little secret. Sincerely trying to do my best to look the way I was taught Christians look, to do what good Christians are supposed to do, was a slap in the face of the One I claimed to serve. My heart was distressed, sad, broken. I chased that elusive dream of perfection so hard, and never caught up. All the while believing God was disappointed, even upset, that I wasn't fully glorifying His name. Until I couldn't run anymore, and crashed. Then I was right where God wanted me. You see, He had a plan. He wanted me broken. He wanted me to see that nothing I could do was good enough. That my attempted righteousness was like filthy rags. Oh, He had saved me and cleansed me, no doubt about that! If I had died on the operating table the day Treasure was taken from us, I had full assurance and peace that I would be going Home to see Him. But life is a journey, and we aren't finished yet. The journey that I am walking had to bring me to a place to see just how little I could do to meet the demands I had been taught all my life were "Christianity". When that was stripped from me, I saw I had been chasing a mirage that did nothing to give life. And I gave up. I chose to face, and embrace, my failures, my brokenness, my hurts, my pain. He chose to cut the chains and give life.
He is enough. His blood is enough. His love is enough. I don't need to do anything. Even resting in His arms... He is holding me. And then the thankfulness brings tears to my eyes. He doesn't need me to be perfect. He needs me to be broken. My failures and weaknesses are no stumbling block to Him. They are a portal for His glory.
But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. 2 Corinthians 12:9
My tears and failures so far this week are part of redemption's story. Part of reminding me the cracks remain. An answer to my prayer that I would not be filled with my self, my own importance, what I'm doing right, and the few accolades of men that have threatened to puff me up recently. How well I know it is the work of God, and God alone! He is the light shining through the broken places of this vessel of clay. Plus, I'm still learning how to put the expectations of others behind me and to set aside demands that look good on the outside but leave me empty and unable to do what is most important for myself and my family. Like I said, it's a journey. There's a lot of learning still ahead.
There is oh so much more to the story, believe me! The story of my journey so far has many facets. I will be exploring more in upcoming blogs, so if you want to get the freshest news you can sign up to have the blogs emailed to you after every new release, on the upper right hand corner I believe.
The last two days have been very humid and warm, resulting in the yearly plague of Asian beetles and Boxelder bugs. Just stepping outside the door can feel like an aerobic exercise trying to keep them from going into the house and out of all convenient crevices on one's person. Thankfully it usually only lasts a short time, and we'll soon be back to normal exits and entrances.
