Tuesday, October 29, 2013

Three Months Ago, Round 2

Three months ago, my mom had her first total knee replacement surgery. Three months ago, my sister-in-law had emergency surgery for a burst Meckle's Diverticulum.

Last week, my mom had her second total knee replacement surgery. Last week, I received a text from my brother that said, "Round 2"; my sister-in-law was having another CT scan for pain in the area of her previous surgery. Today she had surgery to remove a dermoid cyst on her ovary.

Given - one of these surgeries was planned. Both times. But in all honesty, when I got that text from my brother last Friday, I couldn't help but think, "Really? What next?" My heart was heavy and I (the one not having surgery) was tired of the unexpected.

But in the midst of my down-heartedness, I was reminded to remember. To remember the Lord's faithfulness in the past. How, three months ago, He had taken care of my mom in that planned surgery. How her recovery went well. How grateful she is for that new knee.

I was reminded to remember how, three months ago, He had taken care of my brother and his wife in that unplanned surgery. How He was with them in the midst of the fear and uncertainty. How He provided for their every need.

There's a verse from the Psalms that encourages me to remember these things -
"Trust in the LORD and do good; dwell in the land and cultivate faithfulness." - Psalm 37:3, NASB
But my favorite part? A footnote that says this verse could read -
"feed on His faithfulness
Our God is always faithful. Sometimes, in the midst of pain, in the midst of uncertainty, in the midst of fear, it's easy to forget. But He is indeed faithful. We simply need to look back and remember how He has proved that faithfulness in the past. How He has been present. How He has provided. How He has never left.

Monday, October 21, 2013

Not-So-Pointless Construction Cones

Ever since I started making the trek from Fargo to Sioux Falls on I-29 back in 2008, there has been construction on at least one section of that barren interstate. It never fails. But, I comforted myself this past weekend, at least I can tell that work is being done. That something is being accomplished. Sometimes, on I-94 from Beulah to Fargo, there are construction cones pushing the two-lane interstate down into one lane. For no reason. There are no work trucks or crews. No big holes in the road. No work being done. And to be honest, those mere mile-long stretches bother me more than the twenty-mile stretches where it's obvious work is being done.

A lot of times, I wonder the same thing spiritually as well. Because I can't always see what God is doing, why He allows certain things to happen, what work He is doing in my heart.

I've been thinking a lot about this lately. Why, for example, would Jordan and I feel so strongly led to international adoption, only to have us find out we were expecting our own child? And then, when opportunity came around for us to apply for adoption, why were there so many red flags and we felt led away from international adoption? Or why would I sense the Lord so strongly telling me to be involved in a certain ministry, and then mere months later feel lead out of it?

Sometimes, it just doesn't make sense, does it?

I've been pondering these things for months. Almost a year, actually. And then, this last weekend, as I lay in my old bed at my parents house in Sioux Falls, I thought of Abraham. How he not only felt strongly about wanting a child, but he was promised a child by the Lord. And when that child came, what did the Lord require of him? To sacrifice his son.
"Now it came about after these things that God tested Abraham, and said to him . . . 'Take now your son, your only son, whom you love, Isaac, and go to the land of Moriah, and offer him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains of which I will tell you.' So Abraham arose early in the morning and saddled his donkey, and took two of his young men with him and Isaac his son; and he split wood for the burnt offering, and arose and went to the place of which God had told him. Then they came to the place . . . and Abraham build the altar there and arranged the wood, and bound his son Isaac and laid him on the altar, on top of the wood. Abraham stretched out his hand and took the knife to slay his son. But the angel of the LORD called to him from heaven . . . 'Do not stretch out your hand against the lad, and do nothing to him; for now I know that you fear God, since you have not withheld your son, your only son, from Me.'" - Genesis 22:1-3; 9-12, NASB (emphasis mine)
Just as the Lord was testing Abraham and his trust in His God, perhaps the Lord is testing me. Trying to see where my heart lies with Him. To see if I truly trust Him to provide. To see if I am willing to serve. To see if I am faithful to Him even when I feel like what He wants doesn't make sense.

I honestly don't know what will happen with adoption in our lives. Or how my involvement in ministry will look next year at this time. But I guess I'd better be faithful now. Willing. Trusting. Serving.

Because I don't know what He has in store. Maybe His construction cones make sense in the grand scheme of things after all.

Monday, October 14, 2013

Precious Life . . . From the Start

One of the scariest moments of my life happened when I was pregnant with Ezekiel. I was about 11, 12 weeks along. We had just released the news of our coming little one to family and friends. Although initially scared and shocked, I was excited and already in love with that little baby. One morning, I had a tiny bit of spotting. It wasn't much and I almost didn't even call the doctor about it. But the doctor was unable to find baby's heartbeat, which heightened concern because just one week prior she could find it. I was petrified. The drive to the hospital in Hazen was the longest seven-mile drive of my life. Praise the Lord that the ultrasound revealed a kicking, squirming, heart-beating baby.
But I know that many are not so fortunate. I know many who have dealt with the pain of miscarriage. 
I remember telling my mom after the scare with Zeke, "I know he's only 12 weeks old, but it was still really scary."
To which she replied, "Of course you were! That is three months of falling in love with that little baby."

12 weeks. Three months. About the size of a plum. But still loved. Still valuable. Still a child. Because life begins at conception.
"You formed my inward parts; you wove me in my mother's womb . . . I am fearfully and wonderfully made; wonderful are Your works . . . My frame was not hidden from you, when I was made in secret and skillfully wrought in the depths of the earth; Your eyes have seen my unformed substance; and in Your book were all written the days that were ordained for me, when as yet there was none of them." - Psalm 139:13-16; NASB
Tomorrow is National Infant Loss and Remembrance Day. A difficult, important day for those who have lost babies, whether through miscarriage, a stillborn birth or other tragedy. Because life does indeed begin at conception. And no matter the size of the child, loss is hard.

To my friends who have lost those little ones, my heart goes out to you. Not just tomorrow, but when you hear news of others' pregnancies. When your baby's due date rolls around. When you see the joyous smiles of other little ones.

And my prayers are with you. You have dealt with a pain I cannot imagine nor fathom. My prayer is that you will cling to the One who knows your heartache and pain. That you will find strength for each moment in every day in Him. That in the midst of the pain, you are able to remember His great lovingkindess.
"Remember my affliction and my wandering, the wormwood and bitterness. Surely my soul remembers and is bowed down within me. This I recall to mind, therefore I have hope. The LORD's lovingkindnesses indeed never cease, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness. 'The LORD is my portion,' says my soul, 'Therefore I have hope in Him." . . . If He causes grief, then He will have compassion according to His abundant lovingkindness." - Lamentations 3:19-24, 32; NASB (emphasis mine)

Wednesday, October 2, 2013

Listening

What do you do when you don't know what to do?

Do you act, just to be doing something?

Do you speak, just to say something?

Do you try to get away from it somehow?

What if you were to just listen?

This week I've been reminded to listen... I haven't known what to do about a few things in life, and so I was just kind of going through the motions in some things. But then I realized, I'd heard essentially the same message from at least five different sources, in the last week.

It's amazing, when the Holy Spirit wants to get a message across, he'll use whatever we're listening to. He's not bound by only using 'christian' things, or things which are clearly spiritual. Once He even used a donkey to get the attention of a man who'd refused to listen.

What are you listening to? And is there a chance the Holy Spirit could be using what's right in front of you, to help direct your life?

The God of the universe isn't bound by the universe He created.

May He grant us ears to hear the voice of the Holy Spirit in our lives.