The smell of this crisp northern Minnesota air is changing as the summer is progressing. Today it's raining and I can smell the promise of Fall. Big changes might be coming for us in the next few months, the biggest one obviously being a possible pregnancy. We also might begin the transfer process to another part of the state.
Though we don't even know if we'll be moving, I've already begun the list in my head of all the things I'll do differently in my life, my house, my garden. The list actually began shortly after we moved into this house when we realized how much space around us we actually NEED. I'm not talking, "Oh, we've got so much stuff that we need a bigger house." It's more like I-can't-look-out-any-window-of-my-house-without-looking-directly-into-my-neighbor's-living-room, kind of need for space. I can't stand it, and the idea of living on 30 wooded acres with a possible river running through the property just sends me into an ethereal daydream I don't want to leave.
But I was challenged many years ago, when we first started our journey of 'why-isn't-what-I-want-happening-yet', by my mother who asked me what pain I'd like to have instead. Instead of complaining about the difficulites in my life, studying my discontent and basically telling God that He's not quite handling my life very well, that perhaps I should see my struggle in a different light.
Would I switch with someone else who was trudging through a different kind of pain? Like perhaps the family on the news who's son disappeared from school. His mom just hasn't been able to straighten the covers on her little boy's bed because he left it messy the last time she saw him- would I like to trade places with her?
So maybe the next time that my grief wants to swallow me whole, or when my relationships seem to be just a bit disappointing, or that roll of fat just WON'T go away, I'll remember that it's not about me- not about what I want and what's not happening for me- and I'll pull up my boostraps once again and gratefully walk forward. Even if it is just out into my weed infested, uneven, clay-packed backyard.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
The diagnosis: 10 minutes into our meeting with Dr. Corfman, we were diagnosed with a very common, and very treatable condition: Poly cystic Ovarian Syndrome. We left that meeting with the most calming sense of relief. Finally, after 10 years, we actually knew what the problem was.
This new leg of the journey started in April, and four months into the process I've just finally been able to actually start the treatments. A completely normal cyst appeared on one of my ovaries which delayed treatments by 3 months. I cannot tell you how frustrating it was to feel, at long last, like we were able to step forward only to be halted in our tracks. After 10 years you'd think 3 months would be no big deal, but I struggled, thinking, "Haven't we had to wait long enough? Why another complication?"
What is faith?
"Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see." (Hebrews 11:1 emphasis added)
"And without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him." (Hebrews 11:6)
Hope and faith are tied together. I cannot believe that God is able to do something and not hope that He will. That was my biggest struggle for so many years- I believed that God could, but that
He wouldn't for me.
Because of past sin in my life?
Because I am just... that... slow... in learning what God was wanting to teach me before this would be resolved?
Or how about this? Maybe this isn't about me.........at all. The selfish person in me says, "How cannot it NOT be about me? It's MY pain!!"
But what if the affects on me are important by-products but not the main goal?