Goodbye, 31... Honestly, I can't say I'm sad to see you go.
You were a hard on me, 31. But I think one day I will look back and see that you defined me. You were the year I had my biggest wrestling match to date with who I am, who God is, and how this whole thing we call life is supposed to work, anyway. I think I came face to face with some hard truths about myself at 31. I was more shallow than I knew. I was more fearful than I realized. I was more lost than I wanted to let on. I pray that I come away from this year changed. I want to say this year transformed me, and that at the end of it, I was able to let go of some fear and doubt in order to embrace a new season of hope and trust.
At the end of 31, this is what I know.
" O LORD, you are my God; I will exalt you and praise your name, for in perfect faithfulness you have done marvelous things, things planned long ago. . . You have been a refuge for the poor, a refuge for the needy in his distress, a shelter from the storm and a shade from the heat." Isaiah 25:1 & 4
God has a perfect plan for my life. It's time to stop questioning the reality of that fact and embrace it as a statement of truth. That's my plan for 32. Run with that reality in my heart. Step out of the fear that has been weighing me down for far too long. Embrace the simple truth that my life--right now, today, this moment--is within the palm of his steady hand. Fling my arms open wide under the bright blue sky and laugh and dance and sing for I am who he created me to be, this day.
Hello, 32... I'm so glad to meet you.
A blog about my journey through this stormy life and the shelter God has provided all along the way...
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Monday, October 3, 2011
How God Selects the Mother of a Special Needs Child
Wanted to share this short story by Erma Bombeck that really encourages my heart. I think it could just as easily be titled, "How God Selects a Mother," because we all have these same struggles.
"Armstrong, Beth; son; patron saint, Matthew."
"Forrest, Marjorie; daughter; patron saint, Cecelia."
"Rudledge, Carrie; twins; patron saint.... give her Gerard. He's used to profanity."
Finally, he passes a name to an angel and smiles, "Give her a child with special needs."
The angel is curious. "Why this one, God? She's so happy."
"Exactly," smiles God. "Could I give a child with special needs to a mother who does not know laughter? That would be cruel."
"But has she patience?" asks the angel.
"I don't want her to have too much patience or she will drown in a sea of self-pity and despair. Once the shock and resentment wears off, she'll handle it. I watched her today. She has that feeling of self and independence that is so rare and necessary in a mother. You see, the child I am going to give her has her own world. She'll have to teach the child to live in her world and that's not going to be easy."
"But, Lord, I don't think she even believes in you."
God smiles. "No matter. I can fix that. This one is perfect. She has just enough selfishness."
The angel gasps, "Selfishness? Is that a virtue?"
God nods. "If she can't seperate herself from the child occasionally, she'll never survive. Yes, here is a woman I will bless with less then perfect. She doesn't realize it yet, but she is to be envied. I will permit her to see clearly the things I see...ignorance, cruelty, prejudice...and allow her to rise above them. She will never be alone. I will be at her side every minute of every day of her life because she is doing my work as surely as she is here by my side."
"And what about her patron saint?" asks the angel, his pen poised in midair.
God smiles. "A mirror will suffice."
Most women become mothers by accident, some by choice, a few by social pressures, and a couple by habit. Did you ever wonder how mothers of children with special needs are chosen? Somehow I visualize God hovering over Earth selecting his instruments for propagation with great care and deliberation. As he observes, he instructs his angels to make notes in a giant ledger.
"Armstrong, Beth; son; patron saint, Matthew."
"Forrest, Marjorie; daughter; patron saint, Cecelia."
"Rudledge, Carrie; twins; patron saint.... give her Gerard. He's used to profanity."
Finally, he passes a name to an angel and smiles, "Give her a child with special needs."
The angel is curious. "Why this one, God? She's so happy."
"Exactly," smiles God. "Could I give a child with special needs to a mother who does not know laughter? That would be cruel."
"But has she patience?" asks the angel.
"I don't want her to have too much patience or she will drown in a sea of self-pity and despair. Once the shock and resentment wears off, she'll handle it. I watched her today. She has that feeling of self and independence that is so rare and necessary in a mother. You see, the child I am going to give her has her own world. She'll have to teach the child to live in her world and that's not going to be easy."
"But, Lord, I don't think she even believes in you."
God smiles. "No matter. I can fix that. This one is perfect. She has just enough selfishness."
The angel gasps, "Selfishness? Is that a virtue?"
God nods. "If she can't seperate herself from the child occasionally, she'll never survive. Yes, here is a woman I will bless with less then perfect. She doesn't realize it yet, but she is to be envied. I will permit her to see clearly the things I see...ignorance, cruelty, prejudice...and allow her to rise above them. She will never be alone. I will be at her side every minute of every day of her life because she is doing my work as surely as she is here by my side."
"And what about her patron saint?" asks the angel, his pen poised in midair.
God smiles. "A mirror will suffice."