On my drive home from work today, actually it was a mad dash because our foster care social worker was at our house an hour earlier than I thought she would be, I began to ponder my feelings of having a 44 degree April 18th.
I can honestly say that I enjoy each season. I have a favorite but I don’t despise any of them. I see the metaphor of life in them. There are beautiful times and times of despair. But those times are always changing and with change comes excitement and renewal. But what happens when a season lingers for too long? When it’s time for the change and renewal but it’s not coming? How do we cope?
I’m not coping well right now. We are closing in on 5 years since losing Keren, Delmer, and Delores. Sometimes it seems like a lifetime ago. Sometimes it feels like yesterday. But even though this time of year brings anxiety of the anniversary of the crash, the beautiful spring weather also gives me a sense of hope and a reminder that God is with me.
But winter is lasting too long this year. On warm days I get a glimpse of that hope but these frigid, unseasonably cold days bring me right back to despair. And I know I’m not the only one feeling it.
It’s been two years, almost to the day, since I’ve written on this blog. Since then I’ve become a principal and led a school through two of the most difficult years in the history of education. On top of that, we’ve taken in 3 foster children, are currently dealing with personal hurt, suffered loss on our farm, and am in the worst physical shape I’ve ever been in. And I’m worn out, exhausted, depleted, weary.
Those I’m closest to have started asking me if I’m ok. They can see it in my demeanor. I feel myself slipping. And I knew that I needed to write. This is my therapy. It’s where I work through my grief and am given the revelation and healing I need to keep going. So here’s my revelation.
I’m not putting my faith where it needs to be. Today I read about the disciples being unable to heal. They walked with Jesus, saw healing in action, yet doubted that they had the power to do it. That’s where I am.
Doubting that I have the ability to lead a school into its next phase. Doubting that I’m being the mother I need to be. Doubting that I have the strength to forgive and show grace and mercy like Jesus has poured on me. Doubting that I’m equipped to handle the path God has set before me.
Now, comes the healing. The redemption. Not through my own words or deeds, but through Him who always rescues me, who always keeps His promises, who never let’s me down. I will surrender and He will carry me.
Because that is who He is. Love, pure Love.
Mountains are going to be moved. Spring is coming.
Fighting Fire with Light 