#yes to God (2)

Before I even knew the topics, I was wondering what I was going to write about this week. I was praying about it, and figured well maybe God would take something out of my past as I was coming up empty.
If you've read my previous posts, you'll know my kids were taking on their first year of public school. Ever. This was something I struggled with, but gave my worries over to God last week, (there were a ton), but as I was shopping and getting ready this week, I realized my heart was grieving over this loss. I've cried. A whole lot. Massive headaches, frown face, distracted thoughts. Not even close to the smiling, encouraging mother I wanted to be for my little brave hearts.
Tuesday, the night before school started, I was laying in bed. Mulling over. Again. My husband asks me to punch the knot out of his sore back. He had been on the ground all day at work. "I'll gladly punch you in the face if you'd like." Beautiful. Clearly, I'm at my best. Really, God, really? Doesn't he care at all how I am feeling? Doesn't he get I am losing my life as I have known it? Doesn't he, who had this great plan, care to be involved in this at all? Doesn't he know who I am, that I have thrown every part of my heart into these children and worked hard to give them my very best? I am the one that needs something right now, not him. I need comfort, and a massage and I am in no mood to share myself with anyone at the moment!

    ^"If anyone wants to sue you and take away your tunic, let him have your cloak also. And whoever compels you to go one mile, go with him two. Give to him who asks you, and from him who wants to borrow from you do not turn away."                                        Matthew 5:40-41

That's your response God? You mean you not only want me to rub his back to get the knot out, you want me to do it lovingly?

I did. And I laid back down trying to fight back tears. Not because I was frustrated at that moment with having to rub a knot out of his back. Just overwhelmed.

Can I say something, he asked me. Sure, was my quiet response because at the moment anything else would have resulted in inconsolable sobbing. And when he spoke, his words were like balm and I understood God was loving me through my husband.

I know I haven't always shown it to you, and I've been terribly stubborn and selfish at times. But I am so proud of you. I am proud you are my wife and how hard you work for our family. I am proud of what you have done with our children and I don't tell you enough. I have been disrespectful and I am trying to change that. I love you.

I'm not sure that I can say that my husband knew that I needed to hear that. Desperately. But I do know that God did. And I did witness with my own two eyes what happens exactly when I fight myself, even in the small things, to do what He asks. Oh!, what a blessing I would have missed had I not responded. It would have been so easy not too. My husband wouldn't have been aware of my disobedience and I wouldn't have been aware of what I missed. I am glad I didn't, though, because I don't remember positive words too often, but I am certain I won't forget these, laced in love.



"Glory in his holy name;
    let the hearts of those who seek the Lord rejoice.
 Look to the Lord and his strength;
    seek his face always.

 Remember the wonders he has done,
    his miracles, and the judgments he pronounced...." 1 Chronicles 16:10-12