
Sin is broken, You have saved me
It is written, Christ is risen
Jesus You are Lord of all
Hillsongs - Stronger
My heart has been broken. Into too many pieces to count. I thought I would never live to see the day where I could say it was mended. The process was painful, the result nothing short of miraculous. My broken heart is and forever will be beautifully mended.
You meet someone for the first time, you shake hands and exchange pleasant smiles. You introduce yourself by your first name (I have to do this more than once because of the uniqueness of my name - I make a funny joke about all the ways to mis-pronounce my name and have a hearty little chuckle) all in hopes to avoid the following questions. These questions send panic through my mind in how to best answer.
What are these difficult questions? Well, they may seem like simple straight-forward questions, but they prick at the core of my heart's grief. The questions are simply - What do you do for a living? How many kids to you have?
Now flash-back a few years ago, and the answers were simple. I would cheerfully say 'Oh I am a teacher, I love teaching music, but am currently taking a bit of time off to be at home with the kids'. The conversation would continue on without a moment's break. Yet, fast-forward to present day and such innocent questions can at times, feel fully loaded to a grieving parent.
Why is it so difficult? Well, I think the main reason is that I am going through a bit of an identity crisis. With both my kids at school, and not teaching at the moment, I feel a little at a loss as to what I 'do for a living'? I am also unsure of how to answer the question of how many kids I have because I always want to include Grace, yet at the supermarket with 20 people in line do I really want to explain? Not to mention the awkwardness that comes over people as they are left unsure of how to respond. And so all this adds up to a sort of identity crisis. We all go through these times of questioning of 'who am I'? and 'What is my purpose and calling in this life'?
During my time with precious Gracie, my identity became solely wrapped in the care of my family, and because the needs were so great I basically fell out of all other roles. After Gracie passed away, I was left feeling much the same as I am feeling now. Who am I? What do I do now? The people (outside of family) that I saw the most were Grace's health care professionals, they became my close circle of friends. Those doctors and nurses knew and loved Gracie and knew all the ins and outs of our lives without a long story of explanation. Yet, when Gracie died, those relationships ended as well leaving a huge hole in my heart.
My amazing grief counsellor helped me through that identity quest the first time, and so I am recalling her words of wisdom again this morning. She explained that our shape is constantly changing, and that who I was before Grace, is not who I was after Grace, nor who I would be 2 years down the road of grief. I connected this thought as clay in the hands of the Potter. So today, I feel the Potter re-shaping yet again and it hurts. As he kneads out the bubbles of old titles such as 'Mom to a baby/preschooler' and 'Music Teacher' etc. my spirit is left a bit tender and my heart aches for the days when Gracie was with us. Yet I know, without a doubt, that He is preparing me for the next shape, and this kneading must be done in order for me to become what He sees fit. So even though I question my calling, I don't question the Potter.
Are you in a place of an identity shift? Are you in between jobs, relationships, stresses, or even grief? Are you longing to go back to your old shape only to find out that all that is left are broken shards and pieces? If that is you today, I encourage you to hold on. Although the process is painful, your new shape will be a thing of beauty. It's like going in for a massage for a sore muscle. You know the kneading is gonna hurt, but you also know that in a few days the pain of the massage will be worth it to have the deeper pain of the muscle knot relieved. So...today I am taking my own advice, I will brace myself and hang on through the hurt and trust the Potter. After-all, He sees the benefit, even when all I see is the brokenness.
"Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.”
- Elizabeth Stone
I love this quote, it rings so true in my own heart. We have our first child and we realize fully how we will never be the same. We look into the eyes of this precious, little one and realize that she is no longer safely nested within us, but has been introduced to this cold, and sometimes scary world. God instills in us, as mothers, this mama bear protection switch. This switch is usually on stand-by until the moment we realize that we are responsible for our baby. The moment we hear that newborn cry - the switch is set and locked to 'ON.' That is why we wake from a deep sleep just moments before we hear the baby's cry for milk. Our bodies were created to protect and care for our children. So what happens when we can't be there to protect? As our children grow and go to school, or to a sports class, or Sunday School what then? We lose a sense of control.
Yet, I am beginning to see that control is not the same as protection. I am learning that hovering over each step my child makes, lining pillows on the sidewalk as she learns to roller-blade may not actually help, but in fact may even hinder. We always want our kids to succeed, be number one and always feel happy. I think a healthier stand point is striving for safety, boundaries, love and security - these are at least attainable. This yearning for safety for our children is so deep wired, which is so good, but we must be careful to allow some freedom and room to fail. Our small group is reviewing a DVD series and in it was this concept of failing. Our kids need to be allowed the grace to fail and learn the tools of restoration. We are ALL in desperate need of such grace. So, when our child falls from the playground structure even after we told him that the monkey bars were too high, what do we do with the guilt? I know for me, guilt is always right under the surface of almost all I do. I can't protect my kids all the time, nor could I stop the process of what happening to sweet Gracie. We are commissioned to set boundaries for our children, set the stage of God's love and provide security, but really the scope of control ends there. I had such little control when it came to Gracie, which was devastating to my type-A, controlling personality. Learning to trust an unseen God in the face of my deepest fear was the hardest lesson I have ever had to learn. My journey of Grace taught me more than ever before how children are but on loan to us for a very little time. What we do with that time is precious. We must be intentional in all that we do, even intentional in allowing our children to fall. Now don't get me wrong, I am not speaking about neglect. Neglect is different. Neglect is willful and selfish. Rather, I am speaking of intentional grace.
Allowing our children room to fail is intentional grace. When we see our child fall off his bike and skin his knee and help him back up again, we are teaching him about hardships and the perseverance needed. This will give him tools down the road when he wants to quit the sports team cause practices are too demanding. When we allow our child to work out her friendship fights, we are giving them the tools to working with difficult personality types. Taking a failure and turning into a lesson of grace and restoration is our Father's heart. Life can be so overwhelming. And if you, like me, feel the lack of control bogging you down, I encourage you today, rid yourself of guilt...and replace it with intentional grace. This life can get you down, but He is there offering you reprieve. After-all, you are HIS child too and He is calling you to learn the unforced rhythms of intentional GRACE.
The Message - Matt. 11:28-29b
"Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace..."