When you can't hide the cracks.... Advent Day 7
The cracks are starting to show.
A friend takes our oldest out for breakfast this morning and asks him to write down all the things that have been going on. Concerns, Conflicts, Transitions, Crisis... the list is long of unattended heart needs. My heart breaks as my son shares them with me.
Wish I could protect my children from pain.
Sometimes I misread my kids' responses. It feels callous sometimes. When I'm crying and they're not. When I'm angry and they seem happy. When I'm burdened and they are playing uh, mine craft.
I call it selfishness and careless. It hurts them when I do this. They're hurting, too.
It's not the recent 10 days of pain and unknowns that are causing the cracks. It's the last 1 1/2 years of stuff. It's when my son's ability to feel pain stopped when I told him that Dad had collapsed in Thailand and I needed to get on a plane to be with him right away. He says he stopped being able to feel pain. It was too painful then just as it is now.
I wish it wasn't us again. I wish that it wasn't our family that needed prayer, again.
You have to get over that, a friend gently exhorts me this week. Thank you, sister. I hear that. It isn't about me.
I guess the neediness bothers me.
A friend jokes that our family just likes drama.
I understand her point and I want to laugh with her but I'm not feeling like laughing now.
Pain is uncomfortable and I don't like it that my pain makes people feel uncomfortable. Don't feel too sad, I want to say, but I can't say it because I, too am sad.
It's interesting how people respond to pain and suffering.
Some say it's because we're in a battle.
Others say we just need more faith.
For some their words include something to the effect that it is for our transformation.
Others think that God loves me a whole lot and just thinks I can handle it.
Maybe it's just that we're not praying enough.
I don't want you to feel sad so I nod and say, yes, maybe it's all these things, but maybe it's not. I want to help you to feel better about my pain, but I can't. Helping others feel better about feeling bad about our pain is exhausting.
But my friend is right. The one who says that I need to get over the fact that it's us again, and that it's not about me.
It puts suffering and pain into a community paradigm not just in the individual journey.
The family of God together calls out in pain. We wrestle with these questions together. Honestly.
It just happens to be our turn.
A friend takes our oldest out for breakfast this morning and asks him to write down all the things that have been going on. Concerns, Conflicts, Transitions, Crisis... the list is long of unattended heart needs. My heart breaks as my son shares them with me.
Wish I could protect my children from pain.
Sometimes I misread my kids' responses. It feels callous sometimes. When I'm crying and they're not. When I'm angry and they seem happy. When I'm burdened and they are playing uh, mine craft.
I call it selfishness and careless. It hurts them when I do this. They're hurting, too.
It's not the recent 10 days of pain and unknowns that are causing the cracks. It's the last 1 1/2 years of stuff. It's when my son's ability to feel pain stopped when I told him that Dad had collapsed in Thailand and I needed to get on a plane to be with him right away. He says he stopped being able to feel pain. It was too painful then just as it is now.
I wish it wasn't us again. I wish that it wasn't our family that needed prayer, again.
You have to get over that, a friend gently exhorts me this week. Thank you, sister. I hear that. It isn't about me.
I guess the neediness bothers me.
A friend jokes that our family just likes drama.
I understand her point and I want to laugh with her but I'm not feeling like laughing now.
Pain is uncomfortable and I don't like it that my pain makes people feel uncomfortable. Don't feel too sad, I want to say, but I can't say it because I, too am sad.
It's interesting how people respond to pain and suffering.
Some say it's because we're in a battle.
Others say we just need more faith.
For some their words include something to the effect that it is for our transformation.
Others think that God loves me a whole lot and just thinks I can handle it.
Maybe it's just that we're not praying enough.
I don't want you to feel sad so I nod and say, yes, maybe it's all these things, but maybe it's not. I want to help you to feel better about my pain, but I can't. Helping others feel better about feeling bad about our pain is exhausting.
But my friend is right. The one who says that I need to get over the fact that it's us again, and that it's not about me.
It puts suffering and pain into a community paradigm not just in the individual journey.
The family of God together calls out in pain. We wrestle with these questions together. Honestly.
It just happens to be our turn.
taken by my son is thoughtful and quiet and trusts the sun will come out soon
Poignant! I'm reminded to pray for you, you all, while it's "your turn" ("it's us again") for needing prayer...
ReplyDeleteI've been reminded in recent days, of two Bebo Norman songs that I found good for crying out to God in pain--"Remember us" and "God of my everything"--they are almost prayers, or laments. I wonder if parts of them might resonate.
Thanks for sharing what's going on, what's real...
Praying for you sister for you and your family. Praying for your precious childrens hearts as they work through the pain in their own way, that God continues to be for each one of you your comfort, refuge, strength, best friend in this difficult time.
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