Write from your struggle, not from your strength, the constant message I hear from the COMPEL training I’m going through at the moment to get better equipped in my writing skills.
Not a problem on this end of the screen.
Two kids going through body changes, blood sugar highs and lows, fighting pimples and teenage attitudes, early boy-curiosities, while gripped with fear will the adoption process ever end, brought our girls to a very defiant season for the last eight months, increasing in intensity each day.
How should I respond when I find myself right in the middle of a season that makes my day hard, and my stomach twisted into endless knots?
I am to recognize it as a SEASON allowed by God. Evaluate it. Edit it. Embrace it for what it is.
Recognize It
Short, long, or wearisome long. I have to allow myself to take hope that this is only a season.
Shortcuts would be greatly appreciated. But, as a friend said it beautifully “God’s not into take-outs”.
True. God’s not a burger-flipper. Nor a fries-dipper. He works with raw emotions, not frozen bits. He gives us time to melt down till we’re ready to be used. He turns our mess into sophisticated delicacies. And that takes time.
Some seasons will take their natural course with its natural timing. Some seasons will take as long as we need to.
Two years, one month and six days ago our oldest got diagnosed with diabetes… but who’s counting. Among many chores that day, I make a pit stop by the ER with our oldest to clarify some bothersome blood test results.
My being in a rush that day was explainable: we had tickets to fly to the States the next morning. I ask the Doctor, “How long will it take you to be done with my daughter? I got to go pack.” “As long as it will take you ma’am.” the answer came back.
That’s so not what I was going for.
It was up to me when they were going to fill out those release papers.
Pressure!
Can I learn all I need to know in ten hours? I naively ask myself. Would any bookshelves hold ‘Diabetes For Dummies’ in their bookstore?…
Ten days later the hospital hands us our release papers.
I had to accept, evaluate, edit, and embrace our new reality. I had to master the new season: count carbs, calculate insulin, prick fingers, poke a needle with finesse, and stop worrying she’s gonna drop into a diabetic coma on my account.
Sometimes we’re slow to learn, or stubborn, or in denial, or in too much pain to accept, and we’re prolonging ourselves certain seasons of life.
Allow yourself to hope it’s only a season.
Meditate & Memorize: Ecclesiastes 3:1
“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens…”