This season in which you find yourself may puzzle you, but it does not bewilder God. He can and will use it for his purpose.
Max Lucado, You\’ll Get Through This
In looking for content to challenge my knowledge and understanding, I had been reading through two books, the first on a Christian worldview of Nursing, the second on listening to the promptings of the Holy Spirit. Somewhere along the way, reading these books felt like a Goldilocks situation – one was too cold, the other too hot. Nothing against them, really, but … meh.
So I decided to try something else. I picked up (well… downloaded, rather. My e-reader is my constant companion) Max Lucado\’s You\’ll Get Through This. I wasn\’t quite sure if this book would speak to where I\’m at right now. I\’m not going through intense suffering. I\’m just… in a funk. Restless. Impeded. A sprinkling of despair once in a while, but nothing two young toddlers and several gallons of coffee can\’t distract me from.
But as I started read it, several pages in, I began to quietly weep tired tears. I have had a growing sense of impatience and frustration over the past several months, and rather than diminish in intensity, it has only really shifted in the quality of its energy; from anxious and restless twitches to a straining kind of hopelessness, back and forth. In the midst of reading this book, I felt God take my hand and say gently, \”patience.\”
Have you ever found yourself in a situation where you\’ve had to tell a small child to be patient? My oldest son turns three in August, and I\’ve found myself doing this with him more and more recently, usually because he wants to eat something he shouldn\’t before mealtime, like fruit snacks or candy. I\’ll get down to his level or sit down on the floor, take his hands, and ask him gently to look at me as he whines or cries, and tell him \”wait, be patient, it\’ll be ok, we\’re going to do something else right now.\” I have the perspective, in that moment, to know that this is a very momentary discomfort. The snack or sweet he wants RIGHT NOW does not define his life, but for him, that\’s all he can think about.
Where my toddler is is how I feel right now. I want to throw tantrums, whine, sit down and cry, make someone GIVE ME WHAT I WANT RIGHT NOW!
God is not puzzled by where I am right now. I might be. I might be so frustrated, so unsure, so angry. I don\’t understand why I\’m so restless, why my job feels so unfulfilling, why time at home feels like a constant ringing in my ear. Looking at my life, there is so much good, and I go from day to day with the awareness of so much grace, but I still feel as though I\’m metaphorically wearing shoes that are too small for me.
When my patients have a sudden reaction to their medications or find themselves overwhelmingly in pain or anxious, I instinctively tell them to breathe. \”In through your nose, out through your mouth. Deep and slow. Breathe in… and out… just think of breathing, that\’s it.\”
Breathe. In and out. It will pass. Something is coming. Someone is coming. Someone knows it doesn\’t feel good. You won\’t stay here. Someone is with you. It will pass. Breathe in. Breathe out. Someone is holding your hand. Breathe.
Until I can leave this space and moment, I can hear God whispering at me to not waste it. Don\’t waste the pain, and don\’t waste the time you can find. In the moments where the breaths allows for a slight reprieve, keep going. That time and effort and strain will be used, just keep trying. Don\’t stop trying. He will use it. He won\’t leave. You are never alone. It is never true that you are alone, even if it feels like you are. Use this time.
So a prayer, to end this piece of writing:
Dear God,
Don\’t let me waste it. Stay with me. Never stop being beautiful to me. My hope is that you will use this one day, even if I don\’t see it. Be near.
amen…