We’re facing some hard realities right now.
James went to attend a short Ash Wednesday service at the hospital chapel. The chaplain there said today is a day to celebrate our mortality. That the cost of enjoying life for ourselves and others is that it must end.
When James and I are experiencing great stress sometimes we have remarkably bad dreams. I wonder if some of my dreams lately flesh out the possibilities I won’t let myself dwell on during waking hours.
Last night I dreamt I was talking to my own Dad and he apologized to me for being a bad parent. (I think this is what they call transference – I worry about being a terrible parent because of the terrible things that have happened to Lucy. And I think being human means that all of us are occasionally terrible parents. But then, who knows with dreams.) And in the dream I said to my Dad: “How can you say you were a bad parent? This is what you taught me all the time: Whom have I in heaven but Thee? And there is none upon the earth that I desire beside Thee. My flesh and my heart faileth: but God is the strength of my heart, and my portion forever. Psalm 73:25-26.”
Which, upon waking, was oddly true: that IS what my Dad has taught me with his life. IS teaching me, I guess: he’s not dead and he lives that verse.
And I worry whether I’ve lived that verse for Lucy. How can you know the gospel reaches a person who cannot speak?
In my head I know: she’s been baptized, she has heard the Living Word read and spoken and preached, and I believe that that the Lord has communicated His love to her through the words and actions of countless friends, medical professionals, family, and two cats. In my heart: I can’t be sure, but I know God myself and He is GOOD. I’m trying to trust Him.
“Trying” to trust Him. Which is another way of saying He is holding on to us. Not letting go.
I read Ann Voskamp’s blog (www.aholyexperience.com) and in a post entitled “when longing to choose joy” she says:
“When you are weak – take a deep breath. That’s what Sara said at the end: Breathe. Say His name. Say Yes to God. Eucharisteo.”
That is it: we are trying to take a deep breath. Help me, Lord. – Katie
P.S. After I posted this I remembered in my dream I didn’t SAY the Psalm to my dad, but in a very GLEE-like fashion I burst into song and SANG it to him in a tune I know from childhood. Since remembering, I’ve been singing the song all day long. And, you know? Singing helps you take deep breaths.
And for those of us who have known both you and your dad for about 27 years, we’d say that he did a right fine job!! The proof is in the pudding!!
(You DO make pudding, don’t you?)
I enjoyed your post-script! We are praying for grace and peace for you and yours.
Breathe.
Know that you are loved.
I think that as parents we like to think we are a big part, or the main part of the means, in our children’s lives, which makes us feel we need to do everything, and be perfect, and that our failures are going to have disastrous effects. But God uses us to whatever extent he wishes, and other means also, to whatever extent he wishes. And we don’t have to be perfect to be usable. In fact, he can use mistakes and failures, too. (All things work together…)
On the other hand, our children are a part of the means that God uses to train us parents. Now that I have raised my children I feel I am more qualified to raise children, but how would have gotten to this place without them? I once thought they needed me, and it’s nice to be needed, but now they don’t particularly, and I find I am the one who still has needs. But we all have the same Shepherd.
The following was part of my devotional this morning and I immediately felt God’s urging to share it with you:
“Just as we know the sun will rise without fail every dawn, we can fully trust the love of God in moments of darkness. When your hope is in HIM rather in the things you desire FROM Him, you no longer need to fear the wait, or the risk of hope. This is how, strangely, the unknnown can become beautiful — how we can find life while walking in the dark. When fear isn’t present, only love envelops the unseen road we travel, one footstep after another, moment by moment.”
May the ever-present love of God surround you and your family.
(Misty M’s aunt)