Sunday, March 1, 2015

Homebound Confessions

  Scars are the end of healing for a wound. Scars tell a story. They are symbols that some deep trauma occurred but did not last and although it did end, there is forever a mark. 

 Jesus had scars. His were symbols of the cost of restoring people to God. His scars were proof that our debt was paid. In our lives, we have spiritual scars. It is impossible for one to be pulled from sin and it not leave a mark, a symbol that we are changed forever.

 Many times I overlook the tools God uses to get us right and bless us. It is the struggle and suffering that causes us to draw closer to God, depend on Him, rely on Him. It is the scar that gives a reminder from where we came and what God has done. 

 Oh, why do I buck so hard against the struggles? 

 On the cusp of our recent hospital stay, I was breaking. It had been a loooooooong 11days. My life was not my own and I do not mean that it was because I had surrendered it to Christ. I mean that I felt like it was hijacked. Days came where I would be confined to the room because I could not leave my sweet little one alone with his birth family and one of them decided to make the hospital stay a social gathering. Cracking up was probably a better term for what was happening to me. Anger and bitterness gnawed at my exhausted mind but this was no news to God. He knew and He cared but He also was using every moment.

 My sweet friend listened to my text rant then kindly sent me this:
 "For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it." - Hebrew 12:11

 Yes, discipline. Yes, growth but why the battle. Because I am the one who needs to bend and submit. It is my will that is to be eradicated so that seeking His will becomes my only goal. Unfortunately, I hold very tightly to my will and my desires. Shamefully, I have to admit that it takes a lot to move me, to cause me to bend, to make me realize I must submit. This time it took 11 days of a very emotional roller coaster ride to drive me to the one place that I know I need to go - my LORD. Baby isn't breathing properly. Stop trying to be the answer and pray. His family isn't acting right. Stop trying to make them see their inconsiderate ways and pray and speak Truth to them. 

 After being released with oxygen, an inhaler, one more specialist to add to the list, and enough paperwork to recreate War and Peace, you would think the fresh scar would remind me of what I need to do and where I should turn and yet here I am, bucking just as hard. 
God still does miracles

 We are home. The one place I yearned to be when I was measuring my days out by nursing staff changes. But, I am weary spiritually. Thoughts run around my head that are evil and I find myself wanting to run from church and church people. A few friends are the exception and they will call me out on these feelings and have done so faithfully when I fess up. 

 The other day I told my dear sweet sister in Christ that I felt disconnected and that people were staying away from me because they are thinking that I chose to foster and therefore I asked for all this difficulty. She set me straight very quickly. Of course, it did not take long for the next onslaught to invade my mind as I set about the day in the normal routine of suctioning, venting, and filling pump feed  bags. 

 When I question God about the why, I get to back up in Hebrews 12 and read:
"Consider him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself, so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted. In your struggle against sin you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood. And have you forgotten the exhortation that addresses you as sons?
“My son, do not regard lightly the discipline of the Lord, nor be weary when reproved by him. For the Lord disciplines the one he loves, and chastises every son whom he receives.”
It is for discipline that you have to endure. God is treating you as sons. For what son is there whom his father does not discipline?
If you are left without discipline, in which all have participated, then you are illegitimate children and not sons." - Hebrews 12:3-8

 So, why do I end up being so dreadful in these situations? Because I am not there yet. I am not perfect, I am not holy, I am not sanctified. And no matter, what the nurses or hospital staff say about me and what I do, I am not good. What should be an opportunity to glorify God turns into a festival of rebellion and whining...even if no one sees it but those who are getting my texts, even if they don't see it. There is a discipline that is needed and I know it. 

 For every day that I am here in my house with this sweet little baby with no one else, it is an opportunity to glorify God and train myself up in righteousness so that when I get out, I am not continually reverting back to the same old things and forgetting to honor my Savior whose wounds did bleed because I was separated from God but have been restored. 

 Make me faithful God even if it leaves a lot of scars. 

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