I have been walking through an intense season of trust over the last year. My husband was laid off from a very well-paying construction job last June. It threw our already troubled finances into a tail spin. On top of all of that, we were in the process of losing our home. We tried for a year in every way imaginable to work with our mortgage company so that we could keep our home. In the end, we had no other choice but to short sale in order to avoid foreclosure. As we sat last week and signed the papers, I did not really feel anything except numbness.
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My mother has given me some great advice over the years. But the one piece that I remember the most—and the piece that I put to use with the most frequency—is something that she probably doesn’t even remember saying at all. It was one of those times when she was trying to console an upset teenager (me!) and attempting to use that segment of time as a teachable moment.
“Sometimes, Staci, you just need to get in the car and go through a drive-thru for a Coke.”
I’m not sure how much stock I put in that nugget of information at the tender age of seventeen, but I do know how wise I’ve come to view those words as I raised my own children and maneuvered through a myriad of life’s complex twists and turns.
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He is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither. Whatever he does prospers. Psalm 1:3 NIV
Faith walked in the door with her arms crossed, and I knew there was a problem. “How was the second day of first grade?” I asked. “Well, we can only have our water bottles at snack time,” Faith complained. “When I come in from outside, I’m so thirsty, and I wanted to use my water bottle, but the teacher told us we could only have them for snack. After playground, we are supposed to use the water fountain instead.”
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I will give them an undivided heart and put a new spirit in them; I will remove from them their heart of stone and give them a heart of flesh. Ezekiel 11:19
I’ve been thinking about this verse lately. You see, about four years ago my husband came down with a very serious virus that attacked the lining of his heart. It took more than a year for his doctors to determine a diagnosis, and then months of deciding what course of treatment to follow. During those many months the lining of his heart thickened, hardened, and adhered to the heart muscle, shrinking it to fifty percent of its normal size and working capacity.
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My son is going through a hard time at night. He is suffering from typical childhood fears- the dark, noises, zombies. When he suffers, I suffer. He wakes me up and sleeps in my room. He makes lots of noise. I don’t sleep well. It could be easy to be frustrated instead of being patient. But, I know his fears are real to him.
And sometimes, I am afraid and don’t sleep well also.
I’m not afraid of zombies. But, what about bills to be paid? Family members who are sick and may not get well? Fear of failure? Those things often keep me awake at night.
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This summer, my husband, kids and I attended our annual family reunion on my husband’s mom’s side of the family. My husband’s grandparents gather us there together every year. Each year, we play a game to help us understand and remember Grandpa and Grandma’s background and the decisions they made to get them where they are today. Many of those decisions included Grandpa’s proposal to Grandma (despite the fact that she was engaged to someone else), the cars they bought, and what led them to sell the dairy farm they owned for many years. (Many more family secrets that I shall not divulge :))
One of the things that struck me this year is that we all were sitting there in that room because of their choices.
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“Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light for my path.” Psalms 119:105 NIV
One writing weekend away from home, I woke up at 8:30 am and switched on the TV to see what I was missing at home not having cable. I settled on a political news program about the anniversary of Katrina. After heating up my breakfast sandwich in the microwave, I turned on my computer anticipating a peaceful writing morning.
I started by reaching for the Gideon’s Bible in the hotel drawer.
I assumed it would be there, and it was.
I read a couple of Psalms, but my mind was distracted.
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Seasons change.
Life changes.
The past year has been one of many changes for my family. We’ve suffered two deaths, weathered the acceptance of Aspergers, tackled new job responsibilities, and continued with our plans to create our dream home in the piney woods of East Texas next year.
Life is changing, that much is for sure, and I’m working hard to accept each new change with the grace and dignity He would have me to. Change is like turning a page on a fresh book…and each new chapter is beckoning me, calling my name.
The thing is, change doesn’t always feel so great.
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