Here is a not-so-great truth about me:
When I'm tired, frustrated, overwhelmed, or overworked, I can become very impatient and mean. I know this about myself.
I know that whenever I feel this way I need to think long and hard before I speak, pay close attention to my body language, and be on guard for the thoughts that I allow myself to entertain. But when I am in that moment, when I am overcome with any of the aforementioned emotions, it becomes so stinking difficult to maintain my composure, and many times I fail. The times I do lose it, when I make that callous remark, when I roll my eyes and sigh with disdain, when I snap at those around me, I always (eventually) feel badly about it afterward. I do my best to make amends, but the reality is the damage has been done.
I don't want to be this way. I want to be type of person that is kind after a bad day, that is loving even when I'm exhausted. I want to have a certain grace under fire, but even though I want all of that, I am very hesitant to pray about it.
You may wonder why that is. I've been asking myself why this is the case for some time now. Why is it difficult for me to ask God to help me with this? Don't I trust Him? Hasn't He helped me before? Why, silly woman, are you so unwilling bring this to God?
After much thought, I think I've finally figured out that the ugly truth is this:
I'm not afraid God won't answer my prayers, my true fear is that He will.
See in order to be kind after having a bad day, I have to have a bad day. I have to have a day where the kiddo is being stubborn, things go wrong at work, and my hubby and I have a big argument.
I have to allow myself to be placed in situations where I become tired, overwhelmed, or frustrated, so God can then give me the grace I need to overcome my flaws. It is essentially volunteering for discomfort, and I don't know about you, but I do NOT like discomfort.
I would much rather have a magic wand waved over me that instantly transforms me, and fills me with a knowing that I will be kind and patient in difficult circumstances, without actually going through difficult circumstances. But that doesn't seem to be the way life works, now does it?
Maturation is a process and sometimes there is discomfort.
A caterpillar doesn't become a butterfly instantaneously. It takes a bit of a struggle and time. A piece of coal is placed under intense heat and a lot of pressure in order to become a diamond, and as much as I would like, I don't foresee any magic patience wands being waved over me in the near future.
So what's a girl to do? I don't know. I don't have some succinct answer to my issue here, this post is merely me thinking aloud.
I think for now, one thing I can do is start small and ask God to take away this fear I have of discomfort, and you know what? I absolutely believe that He will.
Showing posts with label Prayer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Prayer. Show all posts
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
I don't know them, but I know how they feel
I'm asking whoever happens to stumble across this blog to take this moment -not 20 minutes from now, not later today, not tomorrow- but this very moment to say a prayer for the Cox Family.
Recently their newest addition, Ryleigh, was born at 24 weeks gestation and is currently in the NICU. As the title of the post states, I don't know this family personally. I only know their story because they are a friend of a friend. But while I may not know them, my goodness do I know how they feel.
And while it would be really easy for me to reminisce and relive all of the emotions, the heartache, the pain, the joy, and ultimately the victory of my own 24 weeker's NICU stay, I really don't want this post to be about me or my family. All I want to do is cover this family in prayer, ask that this time be used to strengthen them, not shake them, and pray that God grants them the faith to know that their baby girl will be completely healthy, completely happy, and completely beautiful. Please join in prayer with me.
Recently their newest addition, Ryleigh, was born at 24 weeks gestation and is currently in the NICU. As the title of the post states, I don't know this family personally. I only know their story because they are a friend of a friend. But while I may not know them, my goodness do I know how they feel.
And while it would be really easy for me to reminisce and relive all of the emotions, the heartache, the pain, the joy, and ultimately the victory of my own 24 weeker's NICU stay, I really don't want this post to be about me or my family. All I want to do is cover this family in prayer, ask that this time be used to strengthen them, not shake them, and pray that God grants them the faith to know that their baby girl will be completely healthy, completely happy, and completely beautiful. Please join in prayer with me.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Food for thought
One of the things Dan and I were forewarned about was that it is quite common for former preemies to have oral aversions as they grow older. I guess being on a ventilator for 6 weeks, and having tubes shoved down your throat for the first 3 months of your life will do that to you.
Ian's oral issues are pretty mild. He has some texture issues, and had to have some therapy early on because he had issues with chewing food, but he finally got the hang of it. Perfect technique. The thing is though, just because he knows HOW to chew, doesn't mean that he WANTS to chew. It's just not his favorite thing, and sometimes he will forgo eating altogether if there is a lot of chewing involved. That, my friends, is a habit we are trying to break.
On the menu for dinner last night was rosemary chicken, potatoes, and mixed veggies. On the chewing scale, it ranks as moderate in my book.
As I prepared Ian's plate I said a a short, silent prayer: "Please let Ian eat a good amount of food tonight".
I placed Ian's plate on the table, yelled out "Time for dinner", and without any fuss he got into his chair. Dan said a prayer for the food, we all said Amen, and began to eat.
Ian picked up his fork and took a bite of chicken. Sweet!
A few seconds later he scooped up some potatoes and shoveled those into his mouth. Score!
It took a few minutes of intense chewing, but he successfully swallowed his food. Yippee!
On to the second bite: Ian did another chicken and potato combo, only this time he needed a lot more coaxing and cajoling get him to swallow his food. He finally did it though. Whew, what a relief. Or so I thought. Here is the abbreviated version of what happened next.
Ian: Done! Done! Down please.
Me: Ian you need to eat some more food
Ian: No thank you. Done. Down please
Dan (putting more food on Ian's fork): Here Ian, take a bite
Ian (shrieking and crying): No! Done.
Me (frustrated): Fine Ian, you can go to bed hungry
I helped him get out of the chair, told him to go pick out a book, and that I would be there to read it to him in a few minutes.
*SIGH*
"Don't worry", Dan said. "I'm telling you, there is going to come a day where we are going to worry about how to KEEP him fed. When he'll be eating us out of a house and home."
"Yeah, yeah" I thought to myself.
I was frustrated...
And tired...
And if we're being completely honest, annoyed.
It was obvious it was going to be one of those nights where the kid just didn't eat much. I was simply going to have to shake it off.
I walked into the living room and Ian already had his book picked out. I plopped down next to him on the couch, got comfortable, and we began to read.
Dan walked in a few moments later with a plate in hand (don't worry, we eat in our living room, it's cool) About halfway through the story, Dan stuck out a forkful of food. "Hey Ian, you want to take a bite?" Ian happily leaned over, devoured what was on the fork, and immediately got back into the story. A couple of pages later, Dan gave him another forkful and again Ian gobbled it down. Fast forward a couple of books and most of the food that was on the plate Dan brought in was gone.
Well what do ya know? Looks like the kid ended up eating a good amount of food after all.
Moral of the story: Just because things don't happen exactly the way you expect them to, doesn't mean you won't get the end result you were seeking and praying for.
In my mind, in order for Ian to eat a good amount of food, the family had to be gathered around the dinner table and he would eat bite after bite. When Ian only had two bites at the table, I figured the night was failure (food wise) and chalked it up to a lesson in patience.
I think I'm starting realize that it's my job to have faith, but that it is God's job to work out the details.
Oh, and the second moral of the story: My husband is a freaking genius.
Ian's oral issues are pretty mild. He has some texture issues, and had to have some therapy early on because he had issues with chewing food, but he finally got the hang of it. Perfect technique. The thing is though, just because he knows HOW to chew, doesn't mean that he WANTS to chew. It's just not his favorite thing, and sometimes he will forgo eating altogether if there is a lot of chewing involved. That, my friends, is a habit we are trying to break.
On the menu for dinner last night was rosemary chicken, potatoes, and mixed veggies. On the chewing scale, it ranks as moderate in my book.
As I prepared Ian's plate I said a a short, silent prayer: "Please let Ian eat a good amount of food tonight".
I placed Ian's plate on the table, yelled out "Time for dinner", and without any fuss he got into his chair. Dan said a prayer for the food, we all said Amen, and began to eat.
Ian picked up his fork and took a bite of chicken. Sweet!
A few seconds later he scooped up some potatoes and shoveled those into his mouth. Score!
It took a few minutes of intense chewing, but he successfully swallowed his food. Yippee!
On to the second bite: Ian did another chicken and potato combo, only this time he needed a lot more coaxing and cajoling get him to swallow his food. He finally did it though. Whew, what a relief. Or so I thought. Here is the abbreviated version of what happened next.
Ian: Done! Done! Down please.
Me: Ian you need to eat some more food
Ian: No thank you. Done. Down please
Dan (putting more food on Ian's fork): Here Ian, take a bite
Ian (shrieking and crying): No! Done.
Me (frustrated): Fine Ian, you can go to bed hungry
I helped him get out of the chair, told him to go pick out a book, and that I would be there to read it to him in a few minutes.
*SIGH*
"Don't worry", Dan said. "I'm telling you, there is going to come a day where we are going to worry about how to KEEP him fed. When he'll be eating us out of a house and home."
"Yeah, yeah" I thought to myself.
I was frustrated...
And tired...
And if we're being completely honest, annoyed.
It was obvious it was going to be one of those nights where the kid just didn't eat much. I was simply going to have to shake it off.
I walked into the living room and Ian already had his book picked out. I plopped down next to him on the couch, got comfortable, and we began to read.
Dan walked in a few moments later with a plate in hand (don't worry, we eat in our living room, it's cool) About halfway through the story, Dan stuck out a forkful of food. "Hey Ian, you want to take a bite?" Ian happily leaned over, devoured what was on the fork, and immediately got back into the story. A couple of pages later, Dan gave him another forkful and again Ian gobbled it down. Fast forward a couple of books and most of the food that was on the plate Dan brought in was gone.
Well what do ya know? Looks like the kid ended up eating a good amount of food after all.
Moral of the story: Just because things don't happen exactly the way you expect them to, doesn't mean you won't get the end result you were seeking and praying for.
In my mind, in order for Ian to eat a good amount of food, the family had to be gathered around the dinner table and he would eat bite after bite. When Ian only had two bites at the table, I figured the night was failure (food wise) and chalked it up to a lesson in patience.
I think I'm starting realize that it's my job to have faith, but that it is God's job to work out the details.
Oh, and the second moral of the story: My husband is a freaking genius.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Things aren't always what they seem
So a few months ago I came across a website that gave me a great idea about prayer. The site, which seems to have a Law of Attraction feel to it, talked about something they called "The Why Game". You are encouraged to play the game with another person, but I found that it was equally effective if you are by yourself.
The purpose of The Why Game is to give you insight into why you want what you want. Essentially it works like this (my paraphrase): You identify what it is that you want, you identify what that want looks like in real life, and then you identify what experience you desire from what you want. Once you complete that cycle, you begin the exercise again, theoretically with more insight into what you want, and go through the process as many times as needed until you get to the heart of what it is you are really seeking.
It sounded interesting, so I decided to give it a go.
It had been over a year since Ian was born, and we were still having a difficult time with insurance paying for his hospital stay. It was stressing me out big time. My plan was to go through the game for this situation, and when I got down to the nitty gritty of what I wanted, I would make that the focus of my prayer.
My first couple of cycles of The Why Game looked like this (click to enlarge):
After a few more rounds of my little experiment, I found that my fundamental desire was to have a strong and healthy family unit, so I decided to change my prayers. Instead of praying for the insurance company to do right by me, as I saw it, my prayers were focused on developing strong bonds between Dan, Ian and myself.
An interesting thing began to happen when I decided to focus on what I truly wanted and allowed God to handle how it came to be. Slowly but surely we started getting insurance statements showing they covered Ian's medical bills.
Now you can take from this little experiment what you want, but one of the interesting things I learned, is that in many cases, the thing that I am completely fixated upon when I pray, is not what I truly desire.
Go figure.
The purpose of The Why Game is to give you insight into why you want what you want. Essentially it works like this (my paraphrase): You identify what it is that you want, you identify what that want looks like in real life, and then you identify what experience you desire from what you want. Once you complete that cycle, you begin the exercise again, theoretically with more insight into what you want, and go through the process as many times as needed until you get to the heart of what it is you are really seeking.
It sounded interesting, so I decided to give it a go.
It had been over a year since Ian was born, and we were still having a difficult time with insurance paying for his hospital stay. It was stressing me out big time. My plan was to go through the game for this situation, and when I got down to the nitty gritty of what I wanted, I would make that the focus of my prayer.
My first couple of cycles of The Why Game looked like this (click to enlarge):
After a few more rounds of my little experiment, I found that my fundamental desire was to have a strong and healthy family unit, so I decided to change my prayers. Instead of praying for the insurance company to do right by me, as I saw it, my prayers were focused on developing strong bonds between Dan, Ian and myself.
An interesting thing began to happen when I decided to focus on what I truly wanted and allowed God to handle how it came to be. Slowly but surely we started getting insurance statements showing they covered Ian's medical bills.
Now you can take from this little experiment what you want, but one of the interesting things I learned, is that in many cases, the thing that I am completely fixated upon when I pray, is not what I truly desire.
Go figure.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Jesus Freaks
I know you may be sick of my faith/Ian posts, but oh well, here's another one.
A few months back I was telling you about a international, inter-denominational bible study that I was apart of, and that we were reading the book of Matthew. Well, last night was the final night of that bible study, and it was referred to as "Share Night". Anyone that wanted to speak about how they had been helped, or what they learned by reading the book of Matthew, was encouraged to share. I went with to Share Night, with the intention of sitting back, listening to the comments, and absorbing the positive energy, if you will, but I did not have any intention of speaking.
I started the night just as I planned. It was amazing to hear all of these people talk about how reading a book of the bible, transformed their thinking, their behavior, and their lives. It was quite inspiring. About a quarter of the way through the evening, I began reflecting, generally, on the things that had helped me while reading the book of Matthew. When the night was about halfway done, I began to identify specific things from Matthew that I felt I'd been blessed by, and when the evening was nearing a close, I felt my hand raise in the air indicating I wanted to speak. Now, I don't know what I looked like on the outside, but on the inside....
<Internal Dialogue>
"What the hell am I doing? Maybe if I put my hand down right now she won't see me. Crap, she already saw me and is heading my way. What the hell am I going to say? Ugh, I'm in church, I probably shouldn't besaying thinking hell. Aww, whatever hell is a biblical term, why shouldn't I ..." (the microphone is now in my hand).
</Internal Dialogue>
Now honestly, I don't remember the exact phrasing of what I said since I free styled it, so what you will read here is not a regurgitation of what I said last night, but a detailed expression of the message that I was trying to get across, minus the tears (yes, there were tears).
A few months back I was telling you about a international, inter-denominational bible study that I was apart of, and that we were reading the book of Matthew. Well, last night was the final night of that bible study, and it was referred to as "Share Night". Anyone that wanted to speak about how they had been helped, or what they learned by reading the book of Matthew, was encouraged to share. I went with to Share Night, with the intention of sitting back, listening to the comments, and absorbing the positive energy, if you will, but I did not have any intention of speaking.
I started the night just as I planned. It was amazing to hear all of these people talk about how reading a book of the bible, transformed their thinking, their behavior, and their lives. It was quite inspiring. About a quarter of the way through the evening, I began reflecting, generally, on the things that had helped me while reading the book of Matthew. When the night was about halfway done, I began to identify specific things from Matthew that I felt I'd been blessed by, and when the evening was nearing a close, I felt my hand raise in the air indicating I wanted to speak. Now, I don't know what I looked like on the outside, but on the inside....
<Internal Dialogue>
"What the hell am I doing? Maybe if I put my hand down right now she won't see me. Crap, she already saw me and is heading my way. What the hell am I going to say? Ugh, I'm in church, I probably shouldn't be
</Internal Dialogue>
Now honestly, I don't remember the exact phrasing of what I said since I free styled it, so what you will read here is not a regurgitation of what I said last night, but a detailed expression of the message that I was trying to get across, minus the tears (yes, there were tears).
******
The biggest thing that struck me about the book of Matthew was the power of faith. I'm not talking about faith in going to heaven after I die, but faith about the here and now. That when circumstances look their worst, I can know, trust, and believe that things will turn out, not just OK, but great. The reason I believe that to be true is because of Jesus. I read story after story, where Jesus said something to the effect of "Your faith has healed you", "You are blessed because of your faith", or "Your faith has saved you". The written words of Jesus made me believe that there is something very powerful in believing; something very powerful about the thoughts that I allow to enter my mind. He made me believe that when I prayed for Ian's healing, it was just a little more than lip service, if I didn't choose to believe that God not only could, but would do what I was asking. His words helped me to understand that there is something amazing about having other like-minded people praying, sending out positive energy, or whatever you want to call it, with the expectation of success. That was what I took away from Matthew.******
Now I know someday there may be someone that stumbles across my blog that completely disagrees with what I'm saying, and as proof, can back it up with a painful story that will make me think about rejecting my previous paragraph. So whoever that is, all I can say is, I'm sorry. I don't pretend to understand, or imagine I can explain all of the ugliness and hardships in this world. I just want to propose that there is something undeniably powerful about the thing that we call faith.
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