I am trying to keep the momentum going for my writing. I feel like I dropped the ball in the September. I don't have a lot to say today, just trying to keep myself honest and out there.
When I started working at Hewitt, I had a female trainer named Chrissi. She was bubbly and energetic--it's like she was born for that role. She went on leave to have gastric bypass; the next time I saw her, she was frail and in a wheelchair. She and I had little in common except our employment and faith. I had lunch with her but felt bad asking about why she was in a wheelchair.
This last week, she shared her testimony at her weekly Bible study. She videotaped it and then posted that video to Facebook. Her story is extraordinary. She had the gastric bypass surgery and then became partially paralyzed due to complications stemming from the initial surgery. She is still as radiant as ever, has two beautiful children, walks with the use of a walker, and is still married to her husband.
I saw myself in her story. There are similarities, to be sure; I am a candidate for gastric bypass (even though my insurance company won't cover it). I am a Christian, I have a wonderful husband and small children. I can also relate to her spiritually.
God has blessed her immensely even through her difficulties. She acknowledges her children as miracles; that was why she even considered the surgery in the first place. Her doctors discouraged her against getting pregnant, but God had other ideas.
The idea she had that struck me cold centered around Matthew 7:9-10: "who among you, if his son asks for bread, will give him a stone? or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake?" She admits that she twisted God's truth in those verses to mean that God was giving her stones and snakes. Even though she knew God's hand was on her life, she still struggled with her faith. She still felt far from God. She still felt like God wasn't listening.
It occurs to me, my life is on a similar trajectory. We have encountered innumerable obstacles, trials and suffering over the past 5 years, starting with Jeremy's health issues through our current struggle to stay in our home. God has, without a doubt, been at work in our lives. He spared Jeremy's life, spared Brian from having to undergo chemo and radiation, kept me safe in my pregnancy with Doug (just to name a few). He has provided money for us when we needed it, kept our cabinets and tummies full, and ministered to us.
But I am still struggling in my day-to-day relationship. I have two traditions that encourage me to pray in the morning and at night, but I neglect to do it every day. I have wonderful, God-fearing women and men in my life. They are invested in seeing me spiritually successful. I have not shared with them that I don't commune with God on a daily (or even weekly) basis. I pray at small group and say grace over some meals with my kids, but otherwise, nothing.
I am not wholly convinced that God's plan will work out in the end. I am still doubtful about whether or not He has our best interest at heart. I am still sure that he is giving me stones and snakes when I'm asking for bread and fish. The reality ties into my main defect; impatience. I interpret my having to wait as God not answering.
It's tough to admit that I'm really being an agnostic lately. I want the desire to pray. I want to be filled with love for my Creator. I want to worship Him, I want to help my kids love Him. I am sick of feeling empty but not thirsty enough to drink from the right well.
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