A month ago, I dreaded this day. I don't know, I think I feared the emotions and memories it would bring up. But as I wrote in my church bulletin this morning (during a service which I honestly didn't pay much attention to till the end), this day has only the power that I give it.
A year ago, my life was changed. I know exactly what I was doing at this time on this day a year ago. I remember waking up to the call from Daddy, packing my things and including a black dress but not allowing myself to think about why, driving straight to the hospital, seeing Daddy's face and feeling his arms around me as I exited the elevators on the 9th floor. I remember walking into Mama's ICU cubicle, shoving all the tears and fears aside, touching her hand and just crying out to Jesus in my heart. April 21, 2012 is a day that I never want to re-live again.
At the same time, if there is another April 21 in my life - and I am sure there will be - there are also somethings I know to be true. Even though this has been the hardest year of my life for a number of reasons, I am still confident in the Lord. I know that He is all that He has promised. I know that He is who He says He is. I know that even as I wander and wait and hope, He is there, He is my Shepherd, my source, my redemption, my life. Even on my worst days, I can say that with confidence. And that confidence only comes from Him.
I am thankful for the work that God has done in my family. I am thankful for what He is doing in my life, even though I honestly can't tell you what that is right now. I am thankful for last summer, I am thankful for the issues and emotions and everything that has been brought up because of the car accident. I don't blame "the accident" for the year that I've had; well, ok, sometimes I do. But I know that God has the best for me in every moment, and He was willing to use that moment of impact to transform me and my family.
I look at the year we have walked through, and honestly, a year is just a measure of time. This isn't over for us, and it may never be. Our story doesn't have a neat ending tied up with a bow. But even I as I wander through this wilderness, these words resonate from my soul: God is faithful. He holds me, and His plan for me is so beyond my plan for myself. It doesn't make sense most of the time, but I can tell you with every cell in my body that I know that God is who He says He is. He is faithful to His promises. And He is worth everything.
Sunday, April 21, 2013
Thursday, April 4, 2013
What Did I Expect?
In the last eleven months, we have been told so many things by doctors and therapists and medical people, only for them not to work out. More often than not, Mama hears "bad" news whenever she visits the doctor or even the physical therapist (bad news meaning another problem that reveals itself or even just the fact that things that should be better aren't). Now we're at a place where we've been told some good news, but I am having a very hard time hoping that it is true.
It is like part of me is just afraid to hope, to try, to be optimistic. When I look back at how I felt when the accident first happened, I was so full of hope and confidence. I was so ready to see how God was working, I was so ready for a miracle, I was so ready to choose optimism because I figured it couldn't hurt. Well, I learned that choosing optimism and hope actually can hurt. It can hurt a lot when your hopes are constantly dashed. Proverbs 13 says, "Hope deferred makes the heart sick," and I understand that verse so well after the last eleven months.
But I am also realizing (today, in fact) that hope is worth the hurt. I am trying to choose to hope even though it sometimes results in a bruised and aching heart. At the Easter service on Sunday, Pastor Kallam said something that is resonating with me today. In Luke, chapter 24 talks about the women at the empty tomb who were wondering what had happened. Two angels appeared before them and said, "Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here; He has risen! Remember how He told you..." When Jesus appears to His disciples and the women after defeating death, it is kind of like He asks them, "Well, what did you expect?"
So what is hope if you aren't willing to risk being hurt? If I can't risk my heart, is that really trusting? Ultimately, I know that Jesus has won. I know that Jesus has His best for me in every single moment. I know that Jesus' plans for me are far better than my dreams for myself. It is hard to trust that and to hope in that when it feels like I've been let down, or that my hopes have been crushed. But I am challenging myself to hope anyway. Jesus has proven Himself, so many times. He promises that He will not grow tired or weary, He will give strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength in Him. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint. I am challenging myself to run to Jesus with my hurt, to be honest with Him and myself, and to trust in who He has proven Himself to be and in the promises He has made. It is less a sudden confidence and more a desperation that demands I find shelter in Jesus. He is all that He promises. He will carry me and He will sustain me. So I will trust and hope.
Because what else do I really expect?
It is like part of me is just afraid to hope, to try, to be optimistic. When I look back at how I felt when the accident first happened, I was so full of hope and confidence. I was so ready to see how God was working, I was so ready for a miracle, I was so ready to choose optimism because I figured it couldn't hurt. Well, I learned that choosing optimism and hope actually can hurt. It can hurt a lot when your hopes are constantly dashed. Proverbs 13 says, "Hope deferred makes the heart sick," and I understand that verse so well after the last eleven months.
But I am also realizing (today, in fact) that hope is worth the hurt. I am trying to choose to hope even though it sometimes results in a bruised and aching heart. At the Easter service on Sunday, Pastor Kallam said something that is resonating with me today. In Luke, chapter 24 talks about the women at the empty tomb who were wondering what had happened. Two angels appeared before them and said, "Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here; He has risen! Remember how He told you..." When Jesus appears to His disciples and the women after defeating death, it is kind of like He asks them, "Well, what did you expect?"
So what is hope if you aren't willing to risk being hurt? If I can't risk my heart, is that really trusting? Ultimately, I know that Jesus has won. I know that Jesus has His best for me in every single moment. I know that Jesus' plans for me are far better than my dreams for myself. It is hard to trust that and to hope in that when it feels like I've been let down, or that my hopes have been crushed. But I am challenging myself to hope anyway. Jesus has proven Himself, so many times. He promises that He will not grow tired or weary, He will give strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength in Him. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint. I am challenging myself to run to Jesus with my hurt, to be honest with Him and myself, and to trust in who He has proven Himself to be and in the promises He has made. It is less a sudden confidence and more a desperation that demands I find shelter in Jesus. He is all that He promises. He will carry me and He will sustain me. So I will trust and hope.
Because what else do I really expect?
Sunday, February 3, 2013
Faithfulness
Today in church we sang, "Great is Thy Faithfulness." Lines from that song were constantly running through my head while Mama was in the hospital after her accident. In particular, I clung to the promise of "strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow - blessings all mine and ten thousand beside! Great is Thy faithfulness! Great is Thy faithfulness!"
Singing those words today, I was reminded of how true they are. God is so faithful. I see that just as clearly today as I did after April 21st. God has proven His faithfulness to me over and over in the past eight months. He brought us amazing home health care through people like Buffy. He provided amazing women to sit with Mama when I started my internship. He healed and, I believe, is continuing to heal Mama. He gave me supportive friends at school to help me transition back to life in college. He used me even in my brokenness to minister to others (Jesus is not afraid to take our sin and mess and use it for His glory!). He provided a counselor to talk me through all I had been through over the the summer. He is my strength when I am weak. He is the stronghold of my life. He moves me and shapes me even when I am wandering. He never gives up on me.
It amazes me to realize some of these things. I am so not worthy of His faithfulness, except that He loves me. That is the hope that I cling to. Even in my darkest moments, I can say with confidence, "God is faithful."
Singing those words today, I was reminded of how true they are. God is so faithful. I see that just as clearly today as I did after April 21st. God has proven His faithfulness to me over and over in the past eight months. He brought us amazing home health care through people like Buffy. He provided amazing women to sit with Mama when I started my internship. He healed and, I believe, is continuing to heal Mama. He gave me supportive friends at school to help me transition back to life in college. He used me even in my brokenness to minister to others (Jesus is not afraid to take our sin and mess and use it for His glory!). He provided a counselor to talk me through all I had been through over the the summer. He is my strength when I am weak. He is the stronghold of my life. He moves me and shapes me even when I am wandering. He never gives up on me.
It amazes me to realize some of these things. I am so not worthy of His faithfulness, except that He loves me. That is the hope that I cling to. Even in my darkest moments, I can say with confidence, "God is faithful."
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