Do you ever feel called to the deep place? It is the place you go to heal. But, it can be a painful place to be held. It is a place of rest. But, can’t rest make you feel guilty? Don’t let it. Not this time.
Sometimes God has so much to teach us, we need to go to the deep place to listen, feel, and find healing.
It is a necessary place to go for periods of time. We, as humans, need to be filled in order to be poured out. But, it is not a place to live, as the inward focus must eventually be turned outward.
I am happy to report that we can seek inward healing while stepping into a place of outward giving at the same time. God is always growing us and preparing us for the next season.
Don’t be afraid to find those moments of rest. In them we can freely receive from God. He will use them to renew us and make us whole. It will be our baseline to serve those around us.
I feel like I’m falling apart…in so many little ways.
Thursday was a bad day. I had a dentist appointment. It was just a routine cleaning. I wasn’t even due for x-rays. Six months ago, my dentist, who has the most compassionate eyes I’ve ever seen, told me my mouth looked great. This time, he caught me off guard by saying my back molar had a crack in it. I was completely shocked. I’ve had no pain. I didn’t even believe him, except that once home, with the help of a flashlight, I can see it for myself.
That night, I was attacked by fire ants. Again. I am seriously never going to wear sandals to a soccer game or farm or anywhere else in this state ever again. I was upset to the point of tears over these two things. They feel small compared to many other things that my friends and family have had to face lately.
However, I am allergic to ant bites, which means my left foot and hand have been swelling uncontrollably for several days. It means I tossed and turned and scratched all night. It means I can’t get anything done around the house, including the huge playroom purge I started, because I must keep my foot elevated with ice on it.
These are small things, right?
After a terrible night’s sleep, I woke up late, only to discover my kids were already up and into trouble. As usual. An obvious chair was sitting in front of the high cabinet above the stove, a perfect ladder of mischief. I groaned looking into the cabinet, seeing the not-so-forgotten bags of Halloween/birthday party candy stashed almost out of reach.
Several of my kids have been sneaking and hoarding snacks and apparently candy since we got back from our summer vacation over the 4th of July holiday. The dog discovered wrappers in a makeshift garbage bag hidden in the recesses of a closet. When asked why they were taking food, one child responded, “Because I was hungry.”
My children’s brains will always remember being hungry, though I can guarantee with three meals a day plus multiple snacks at specific times, hunger is not the issue.
I had just finally gotten rid of the ants in my house. The dog has been sick for days as wrappers aren’t part of her diet. But worst of all, is the trust that is continually broken when my children sneak and lie to me about it. A lock on the pantry will only lead to an alarm on the fridge or a video camera to guard the kitchen. I know many have had to go these routes, but for now, I am not willing to start down that path. Being stricter won’t build trust between us or teach right from wrong or heal the deeper issues going on.
My kids came home from camp last week with leftovers in their lunch bags each day. Granted, they were given cupcakes and cookies and candy while away. Besides the natural consequence of being put on a sugar detox, I wonder what to do? They aren’t so much hungry as they are wanting control. It’s been almost three years since they came home, and I am saddened that they don’t ask for what they feel they need. And I feel like a failure.
My mom has been in the hospital…again. I’ve tried to take care of her from afar, but it’s not any easier than taking care of myself. We are both caregivers who serve. How do we learn to take care of ourselves?
Did I tell you I’m writing a book? It’s the book that has grown in my heart for decades: a memoir about infertility. As I start the chapter about treatments, I remember that trauma is outside of time. When the dentist sprayed too much Novocain down my throat, I started choking on it and gagging on the x-ray block being shoved into my mouth.
The fear and feeling of being out of control are as fresh as other painful medical procedures in my past. When my kids take food to feel safe, their brains must remember a home before ours, one where they lived with growling bellies.
I wish I were as compassionate towards their behaviors as it sounds, but I am not. It angers me that my children still have daily toddler tendencies and cannot be alone. Ever. It completely exhausts me. It feels like constant chaos to this peacemaker.
My husband and I went on a date for a few hours on Friday afternoon. We came home to a trashed yard, muddy mangled grass, wet wooden floors starting to warp, wet towels on carpet and bathroom floors. I guess I shouldn’t have suggested water play with the babysitter.
Anyways, I’m starting this week a little on the weary side so in case you are too, here is a promise to keep you going:
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Matthew 11:28-30
I am looking forward to stepping into a season of healing, both spiritually and emotionally. Stay tuned for ways you can join me.