Monday, March 28, 2011

waiting it out

Today, I don't want God to answer my prayer.  I want to give up on believing that the ache I have is His promise.

Being a mother is hard.  I'm flailing around and seeing my own failures.

Today, I don't want to do *it* again.  One child is hard enough, today.

Quickly, I *see* that He's brought me to the here and now - to where we're learning piano, and I see my tendency to try so hard, reaching for perfection.

I haven't had the opportunity to be tested in this way for quite awhile.
I've gotten to Just. Love. Give. Grace.

I've seen Him in the {soft} and {gentle} reactions that come from me - broken, angry, scared, imperfect me.  I've made the seat at my heart available to the boy-man anytime he longs to be close.  I've given him my heart and he's found love.

I haven't done the homework-thing day in and week out, and I don't do the discipline-thing {very often}.  These roles have been filled by the boy's daddy - the leader in our home - and he's so much better at it.

I have just gotten to shower gentleness upon this child, and encourage my groom to be gentler, too.

Now, though, we're doing piano together - the boy and me.  And his instructor tells me not to tell him to do something, instead to ask him questions just like she does.  I ask her the goal.  She says understanding.

And I try with all my might to have him perfectly understand.  I try with all my might to perfectly help him just like she does.

I fail at the perfect-thing.  And I flail.  I want to give up.  I haven't felt this badly about myself in a long time.  I *see* the ugliness is still there.  And it hurts.

This morning I went to my Father for guidance on how to do the practicing part of the piano with the boy.  How, Father?  How can we have fun?  How can we enjoy it?  How we do it in-joy?  Will he forgive me?  Have I wounded and crushed his spirit?  Will you heal him, Father?  

Show me.  Because I just want to walk away.

I want to walk away from this piano-thing and never look back.

So much of me wants to walk away from this parent-thing some times.  But, I won't.

Today, though, I think I can't possibly have another.  I can barely handle this.

But, I can't help this ache inside of me.  This longing that just believes what He told me is true - that we'll have another child and that I'll be a mother to a girl.  I can't help it.

It hurts to wait.  

It hurts to really, truly believe that He has this as part of His plan and to wait it out.

And yet, I sense Him telling me that the now - the pain, the ache, the hard-to-hold-on moments - is all part of the process in His plan.

It hurts.  So. Much.

Today, I don't want another child.  I don't want this ache.  I don't want to long for another baby any more.  I want it to end.  I just want to be happy with today, and it's hard to even do that.

Mothering is hard.  Parenting is hard.  Marriage is hard.

I know...throw myself a pity-party.  But, it's true!  And I don't know a single person who would disagree.  Parenting isn't always fun.  It's down-right hard.

Tell me I'm complaining and I'd agree that I am.  Say what you want about me.  It's all probably true.

Still though, I'm incredibly grateful for this life He's given me - a {Grace} full *life* - to be called Mama and to be a bride, to learn from my groom and all of our differences, and to learn how to love and accept him unconditionally.

I couldn't be more grateful, I think.

Joy spills out of me.

Yet, it's hard.  And I want to get off of this ride.  My tummy aches at the pain of the waiting.  I doubt in His goodness.  And I doubt in His love.

And there - just out of the blue - appears this answer: For purpose.

When I don't want to do it because it's hard, but I really feel as though it's His plan, I trust Him more because I know - I know there is purpose...even when it doesn't make sense.

He gives me test after test, patiently giving me His time to learn more about {trusting} Him.

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