If you called me up and asked how things were on a day when the toilet overflowed, the kids were at each other’s throats, Beanie pooped her pants and tried to “clean it up”, school went terribly, my laundry was piled up, the kitchen was a mess, Paul was in Bangladesh and I had a raging headache, I can gay rone tee you my response would NOT be, “Oh Super Duper!”
Please know that my commitment to stop complaining is not the first step into Stepfordian Wifery. I am going to keep it real.
I know it is challenging to be committed to not doing something. So let me turn it around:
I am committed to being thankful because gratitude creates a space in the worst circumstances.
I am committed to looking for God in every situation.
I am committed to talking to him first, to lamenting.
When things start to fall apart and my adrenaline kicks in or depression stalls me I either start to move too fast or not at all and I usually make up that I am alone in it; that I have to solve it; that it is up to me. I forget God.
It’s like someone turns out the lights and I start stumbling around shrieking or drop to the floor and assume the fetal position also shrieking. Neither of these options is very effective for getting the lights back on, trust me. But I have another choice I can stand there for a moment to get my bearings and then reach for Him. I can call to Him and when I hear His voice I can walk to Him or I can ask Him to turn on the light.
Sometimes that is enough, but there are times when I call and He doesn’t seem to answer. I reach for Him, but don’t feel His presence. I will be honest, I rarely take the time to do this and if I do and seem to be stuck I quickly fall back to running and shrieking or laying immobilized and shrieking.
This is my commitment: I am going to wait for Him, because I know He is there.
My sister, Torey, commissioned a friend of ours to do a portrait of Christopher when he was a baby. Ali sketched him then colored it with pastel chalk in blues and greens. I think there is a bit of watercolor too. It is mostly his face, off center to the left. To the right she colored as well to give the feel of space and light. She used a photograph that my brother took, while Christopher was sitting on my lap. In the the photograph he is leaning towards Nathan and I am smiling down on him in profile. That space in the painting is me.
This is reality: I am on His lap, His arms are around me and there is no space, just Him.