While my mom was at Mayo before her surgery this past week, my dad and I got some quality one on one time together. It was humbling for me because I chat most commonly with my mom, but there's always been a special place in my heart for my dad. He's always been a man of quiet strength and whenever he speaks, I listen. It's been that way since childhood. When my dad was speaking, I remember that my world would stop. He'd always have a way of striking a balance between getting me to sit down and talk calmly with him (even though I was emotional) and standing back and giving me a look that said more than words ever could. My mom has always called me "your father's child" because of our similarities. To be considered similar to my earthly father is a privilege to me, because my dad tries his best to emulate his Heavenly Father whenever possible. He is wise and kind and it's an honor to be his daughter. I've never doubted for a moment that I was loved and he's always believed in me, even in his quietness.
So when my dad takes time to tell me that he's proud of me for something, it does something to me that words really don't suffice to express. So during our time together, my dad said something to me that I've been pondering for days. He told me that he's proud of me because of how I've grown and matured through leaning INTO difficulty.
I've been thinking about what this means and what it means to me as a parent, specifically. Sometimes in life we have trials that have been thrown at us and sometimes it's a mess of our own making. I've had both, just like everyone else. I'm not anything special, I don't have a secret formula, I'm not any more righteous or unscathed by life than anyone else. But the difficulties I have faced, there's been a steadiness that underlies it all that I cannot full explain nor can I produce it within myself. But I look at what my dad said, and I wonder, what are the things the Lord has taught me through all I've gone through, what habits have a built as a result of what I've seen and experienced? How does this affect my parenting?
I've learned that hard things happen. They can come from the inside or the outside. As dad said in one of our conversations, "Nobody signs on the dotted line saying, I'd like to have THIS problem." We often go through things we either didn't ask for or they are natural consequence of things we have chosen. But how we face our difficulties and what results we allow trials to produce in us DOES matter. There have been a lot of situations in my life that have caused me great pain that I couldn't control. I couldn't control the situation or the people in it. But I realized, through doing it wrong many times, that I am responsible for me, I don't get to shove blame. I don't get to say, "If you weren't the way you are, I wouldn't be the way I am." It's simply untrue. My circumstances do not define who I am, neither do other people's treatment of me. I cannot control these things, but I AM accountable for the way I am, the way I behave and the thoughts I have.
But the truth is, I'm just a freaking sinful and selfish as everyone else. My natural inclinations are toward myself, toward wanting to do things my way, to wanting to be right and believing that my self-interest is paramount. Only Christ himself moving my gaze away from myself has changed me. I'm still an immense work in progress. But after my dad said that, I've been reflecting on what God has changed in me that has made me better able to cope through difficulty.
I believe the Lord has been gracious to me in more ways than I could count. It's completely unmerited. But he has moved my heart with each hard thing closer to himself. One of the main things I can pinpoint that's changed my life is attention paid to thankfulness for his past faithfulness. I remember sitting in the hospital with my daughter's head injury that I couldn't explain and Child Protective Services, detectives and social workers grilling me for what felt like an eternity. I was so frantic after being told we couldn't be alone with our kids and being interrogated about every aspect of my marriage and family...that I got home and threw up. Emotion is real. I am always emotional in trial. I was tempted to despair. But I remember so vividly, the Lord slowing me down and prompting me to go through his past faithfulness throughout my life. I just started listing things he had done and seen me through up unto that point. The further I got down the list, the more overwhelmed with his love I became. He reminded me that he sees me. This did not surprise him. He was my ANCHOR (the name of this blog). All anchors have give, but even though I may feel that I am lost at sea, that anchor will pull me back. He was going to hold me through it, but I was responsible for how I behaved in the midst of the pressure of 7 months of social services. There is a balance.
When God slows me down, it's often through gratefulness. How have I leaned into difficulty? It's most often through grateful reflection on life and clinging to the faithfulness that has already been so clear throughout my life. From there, the Lord changes my perspective as I've slowed down. It's a process. It takes time, it is not an overnight thing. But over time, the fear of the situation is no longer the defining factor. The emotion no longer takes the wheel. I believe there is truly a reason the Lord spends so much time in the Old Testament telling Israel, "Don't you remember when I did this or that?...Talk about these with your children..." Israel were handed (or handed themselves) some really tough situations. What was so often God's response? "Remember." There is a powerful thing that happens when we remember the many things we have to be grateful for. Not just a lip service to "Oh yeah, thanks" kind of way. But in a deep and heartfelt thanks for the past faithfulness of God. There's something in us that hits the breaks on the "right here, right now" focus. When we pan out to see the tapestry of our lives, pointing out the moments of grace (and keep in mind it's only the times of grace we are cognizant of!), we start to see a view of our whole tapestry as a opposed to the snapshots in our mind. It takes time to reflect. Does it fix the immediate problem? Often, no. But what it does is it changes us, it changes our perspective, it reminds us that now is not the only time that has ever existed (although it feels that way at the moment).
We, like Israel, often forget from whence we came. Through our fallen nature, we are forgetful creatures. But "leaning into the difficulty" often means looking back at God's faithfulness and, while not seeing how everything is going to work out in the long haul, choosing to put your trust back in him to work all things out for HIS glory. That's what all of our stories are about. Every single one of our tapestries play a part in the beautiful artwork that he is putting together to show himself to the world. He is the main player, he is the one everything ultimately points to. So by looking backward, it causes us to be able to move forward. It doesn't fix the situation, it may not change your emotion, but it refocuses you on that there's a bigger story and a bigger reality than this moment. He sees you in that moment, he loves you in that moment, he sees the pain and the heartache and he knows it well from his own experience. But by gazing over the mountains and the valleys of life causes us to be more aware of who he is and the story he is telling. Through that, he changes our perspective and changes how we pray and how we act.
It is often when we are in our darkest places that we have the chance to see his glory shine the brightest.
I don't want my kids to miss seeing his glory. My propensity as a parent is to protect my kids. I don't want them to be hurt or have to deal with hard things. But the truth is, those hard things give them a chance to see God's faithfulness in the past and the present and, if they let it, it will allow them to entrust the trajectory of their lives to that faithfulness continuing all of their days. The times where I've grown the most have not been my happiest days. They've been the days where I had nothing left. I was at the end of myself. There was no where else to "dig down deep" into. Then I turned my eyes toward Jesus, and saw how he has carried me, and even though I didn't "feel" trusting, I leaned back into my anchor, the one that held me (even when I thought I was floating out to sea). While I do not wish difficulty on my children, I want them to know that difficulty is often the most fertile soil for growth...if they let it happen. I want to point them to slowing down to be grateful for what grace they've experienced up unto this point. I don't want them to be afraid of difficulty, or shy away from trial. If I truly desire for my children to grow in wisdom and truth, the refining fires of trial are often the ways that God burns past the nasties that are in our gold and refine us. I want them to face difficulty, feel the emotion but not let it rule them, and move toward a grateful heart. They will make mistakes. They will be handed things that they didn't ask for. But how do we walk in grace in those things? I believe it often starts with a reflection on his past goodness. This is what he reiterated over and over again with Israel when they had current trials. Sometimes he told them how he would solve the problem, but often he did not. Instead, he was showing us a starting point, even when we don't know how to step forward or how to cope with what's happening. I believe that when the Lord has turned my heart toward reflection, it's changed my perspective. I want to teach my children the same thing. He is good, even when our circumstances are not. If we reflect on how good he has been, it will give us a firm foundation to trust in the days to come...even when we don't feel it.
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