I have this tendency to freak out about things. It takes me being intentional not to get worked up into a fit of anxiety sometimes. I have to stop, take a breath and remind myself that God is trustworthy and faithful and He's got it all under control - even when it doesn't make sense to me.
To say our finances have been tight these past six months is kind of an understatement. Don't get me wrong, I am thankful I was able to find enough work to pay for our health insurance but writing those checks out can be rather painful.
Looking back, every time I got anxious about how we were going to pay this bill or meet that obligation, God always came through. I can look back over the past year and see God's hand of provision over us. Sometimes, it was through a monetary gift that would come out of the blue by some generous soul. Other times, I got more work than I was expecting. I mean, can anyone honestly say it was a coincidence that after 18 months on the sub list without one call, suddenly I became their go-to girl? Yeah, me neither.
For the past few months,I've been waiting on a job opportunity - mostly the hold up is red tape. Well, we have hit the intersection where the need and waiting are reaching the boiling point, and to be honest, I was very tempted to get anxious about it. I suddenly had this intense desire to fix the situation because the waiting sure isn't getting us anywhere! But I keep hearing God whisper to me, "Do you trust me? Be still and watch."
Did I mention I'm not very good at standing still or waiting or watching?
Whew - anxiety overload avoided. But wait - not quite!
Instead of coming in the front door with this obvious, anxiety-producing situation, Satan decided to sneak in the back door.
My oldest son, Brock, will be 14 at the end of July. He was an early bloomer and now -gulp! - shaves his peach fuzz a couple times a week. The problem is - at least in his eyes - is that he's not quite 5'6". Did I mention his favorite sport is basketball and his biggest dream is to be the best player around? As he has pointed out - that's hard to do when you are a short, white kid with slow feet.
The thing is though - you've never seen a kid work harder than Brock. He works out. He has this complicated, intense workout he does three times a week. He's bench pressing his body weight. (It's kind of hard to realize this is the same kid that dressed up as Peter Pan all the time - sshhh! don't tell him I told you that!).
But despite his maturity and despite his hard work, there is nothing he can do to change his size. Sometimes, that is a source of discouragement for him - such was the case this weekend for some reason.
In my effort to make him feel better, I was looking up height indicators and boys' growth patterns to show him that he probably wasn't done growing. Well, in my google frenzy, I came across something called precocious puberty. Apparently, Brock was a really early bloomer and that could be a problem. Notice, I said could.
Well, I got off the internet convinced I had stunted my child for life because I didn't get him checked out when he first started, um, blooming. I was sure I had been a lax parent and now Brock would be super short and it was all my fault!
A few good friends speaking truth to me later, I realized how ridiculous I was being. As if my son's future height teetered on when I brought him for a well check up. God knew all about Brock before he was even born. He has a plan and purpose for him - even if Brock ends up on the shorter side of life.
It made me remember the story of Amy Carmichael. I don't know if you remember who she was, but she was a missionary to India. When she was a girl, she really, really wanted blue eyes - not the brown ones she despaired of. She was bitterly disappointed when God didn't answer her prayer to change them to blue. Well, as a missionary in India, those brown eyes came in handy more than once. Blue eyes would have given her away as a non-native on a number of occasions.
I was reminded once again that satan desires to get me caught up in things that are, in essence, mole hills and NOT mountains. God holds not only my future, but my son's in the palm of His hand. Thank goodness God (and some good friends) reminded me of that before I made the entire trip up that mountain!
"The Lord's has established his throne in heaven and His sovereignty rules over all." Psalms 103:19
~ Blessings, Bronte