(12)
Do I always believe God doesn’t give us more than we can handle? I’m not about to lie. Of course not; I’m human. I have doubts during trials, and that’s when I have to walk by faith. I have to rely on the scriptures implanted in my heart and say them over and over, and over again. God’s word NEVER fails, but we have to remember everything happens in HIS time, NOT ours. (I’m with you. I wish it was in my time, but it’s not and that’s the way it is.)
I remember once when I was in the process of ironing one of my husband’s shirts and my kids, probably around the ages of six and seven at the time, were yelling for me. They wanted something, and they wanted it NOW! It was one of those days when nothing was going right. I’d had a long day at work, I had tons to do at home and those angels of mine had been fighting with each other from the moment I stepped through the door. (Sometimes I feel as though my kids are the only ones in the world that fight even though I know it’s not true!)
Anyway, in frustration I yelled, “Wait! I’m ironing a shirt, and when I’m finished I’ll be there!”
That’s when I felt the Lord speak to my heart. (Not an outward voice, but a thought in my head, and a feeling in my heart.) I felt the Lord say to me, “Janette, when you yell at me to do something right now you have to realize I’m ironing, too. That shirt you’re working on is your life. Your marriage, your requests; all the wrinkles needing to be pressed and I’m working on them. I’m smoothing them, and when the wrinkles are gone the shirt looks crisp and new. It’s restored, and you will be too.”
I almost broke into tears of joy because that’s when I KNEW God was hearing my; my prayers.
Is everything peachy now? Heck no. I’ve had to walk through more crap than I ever wanted too, but I have at last reached a point when I can honestly say I KNOW God is working it out even if I don’t see the wrinkles coming out quite yet.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
(11)
Our son was in Kindergarten during this time of marriage upheaval. I mention this because I not only had my husband’s issues to deal with, but our son’s as well. He’d been diagnosed with Expressive Language Disorder a few years prior to his entering the school system and let me tell you, once your child hits the school system it’s a whole new world for you. If you have been blessed with a “normal” child, consider yourself fortunate. However, if you have a child with any disability you’re more than blessed. You’re highly favored as well regardless of the fact you might not see it as a blessing right now.
Our son needed speech therapy, and we were still in the process of seeking a psychologist to help determine what else was going on with him. He had certain autistic traits but we knew (believed) he wasn’t autistic. I’d seen kids with autism, and my son didn’t seem to mirror those I knew, although as we sought answers to this I learned the word autism is the BIG label and from there are many branches.
The school my son was attending knew of the first diagnoses, and was aware we were seeking farther answers. They, the individuals what worked with him, recognized something was going on with him and were looking forward to knowing what the test results were. In the mean time, there was a gung ho, fresh out of college counselor at the school who felt it necessary to call social services and report my son had told her I had kicked him in the stomach.
Hey, I’m all for protecting children, but I also recognize several things. First, most kids who are being abused don’t say anything. Second, the fact I weigh just over 200 lbs and my son hadn’t missed a day of school should have been a clue the counselor should have used the brains God had given her and talked to the other members of the team before calling social services to report possible child abuse.
I admit it. I was mad. Not worried, just mad. I had a meeting with social services and they themselves couldn’t believe the counselor jumped to the conclusion of child abuse.
I bring up this story because the event added more stress to my life, and I was holding on by a tread. I was dealing with a son whose diagnosis was eluding us, and a husband who needed a job. Frustration was my middle name and continuing to tie a knot in the end of my rope didn’t seem to be helping. I truly needed a break though from constant attracts. I wasn’t reading my bible anymore…who had time?—and it didn’t seem to have helped anyway. I kept telling myself God would come through, but I didn’t see anything happening to make my life easier.
Funny thing about God; nowhere in His word does He promise a rose garden on earth if we believe in Him, but there is a hope. I just have to keep tying knots in my rope until the blessings come, and there’s hope for you—keep tying those knots. The rope will be long enough. God’s word says He will never give us anymore than we can handle.
Our son was in Kindergarten during this time of marriage upheaval. I mention this because I not only had my husband’s issues to deal with, but our son’s as well. He’d been diagnosed with Expressive Language Disorder a few years prior to his entering the school system and let me tell you, once your child hits the school system it’s a whole new world for you. If you have been blessed with a “normal” child, consider yourself fortunate. However, if you have a child with any disability you’re more than blessed. You’re highly favored as well regardless of the fact you might not see it as a blessing right now.
Our son needed speech therapy, and we were still in the process of seeking a psychologist to help determine what else was going on with him. He had certain autistic traits but we knew (believed) he wasn’t autistic. I’d seen kids with autism, and my son didn’t seem to mirror those I knew, although as we sought answers to this I learned the word autism is the BIG label and from there are many branches.
The school my son was attending knew of the first diagnoses, and was aware we were seeking farther answers. They, the individuals what worked with him, recognized something was going on with him and were looking forward to knowing what the test results were. In the mean time, there was a gung ho, fresh out of college counselor at the school who felt it necessary to call social services and report my son had told her I had kicked him in the stomach.
Hey, I’m all for protecting children, but I also recognize several things. First, most kids who are being abused don’t say anything. Second, the fact I weigh just over 200 lbs and my son hadn’t missed a day of school should have been a clue the counselor should have used the brains God had given her and talked to the other members of the team before calling social services to report possible child abuse.
I admit it. I was mad. Not worried, just mad. I had a meeting with social services and they themselves couldn’t believe the counselor jumped to the conclusion of child abuse.
I bring up this story because the event added more stress to my life, and I was holding on by a tread. I was dealing with a son whose diagnosis was eluding us, and a husband who needed a job. Frustration was my middle name and continuing to tie a knot in the end of my rope didn’t seem to be helping. I truly needed a break though from constant attracts. I wasn’t reading my bible anymore…who had time?—and it didn’t seem to have helped anyway. I kept telling myself God would come through, but I didn’t see anything happening to make my life easier.
Funny thing about God; nowhere in His word does He promise a rose garden on earth if we believe in Him, but there is a hope. I just have to keep tying knots in my rope until the blessings come, and there’s hope for you—keep tying those knots. The rope will be long enough. God’s word says He will never give us anymore than we can handle.
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