We’ve been going through a few struggles the last few months. Actually, it was almost a year ago when I got the first call that someone was messing with some of my vehicles over at the farm. Their batteries had been swiped and my farm truck had a wheel off, several jacks were in position under the vehicles. Somehow they’d not finished the job and even left a calling card behind, a bong and a pair of pink-framed prescription glasses. I removed the jacks, tire iron, and various supplies. I got the vehicles out of there. But it made me uneasy.
Not long after, thieves were back at it. It started with farm equipment being stolen. Then other farm stuffs were also stolen; irrigation pipe (which we use), antique tractors, tanks and various items. It was scary. The family was in shock. I felt a wave of strange emotion, a sense of violation and vunerability, many of these items had historical value and were part of my family’s generational farming history.
Next came moments of life-changing circumstances in ways that many families face: hip fracture, stroke, rehab, occupational therapy, speech/memory therapy, physical therapy, changes in diet, facilitating medical necessities, consulting with family members, discussing options, helping and helping and helping. . . talking and talking and talking. More time away from home than at home, at least it often seemed that way. And if that wasn’t enough, there was some trouble with communicating with my teenager and feeling too stressed to give this adequate attention.
Then the church stuff, which is in a time of transition as we have said good-bye to the past and are preparing to welcome what is ahead. I can’t give it my best, not possible. My obligation with leading my church women is often frustrated when outside distractions complicate my ability to attend and carry-through. And my writing, well, it has taken a back seat except for this blog. Everything is on-hold. I have had to make my peace with it and accept this as part of the season I am in. I look for the happy moments, and find them. But there is something draining in all of this. I feel overwhelmed and inadequate. Emotional energy is easily depleted.
“But God.” God is here. He always keeps me sane when I think I’m starting to crumble. I complain and grow weary, but He is there. A friend will make contact with me, and it feels like a life-line. My sisters and brother and their spouses have all helped with the things we’ve been facing, and it is comforting and needed. I’ve seen more of my family than I have in years. They have been fully supportive, kind and loving. We have had to accept that life is different now, not quite so fun as it used to be but beautiful and loving nonetheless.
It’s time for lunch, I’m sitting at my folk’s old round oak table with one leaf in it, the same one that we sat around as a family of seven in my growing up years. I’m there with my sister across from me and Mom and Dad on each end as we bow our heads and listen to my father pray. I love listening to his words, they have much expression of thanks to God. He ends his prayer with “We are grateful to You for Your everlasting love,” and I feel tenderness well up in my heart.
These are moments to be cherished. I drove to be with my mother twice today, a half an hour’s drive each way. She is happy to see me. We go to the lab for bloodwork and it goes well. I feel grateful. We spend time taking care of some medical paperwork. It takes an hour. Then in the evening I go again, this time to help her with some things in her room. My son is with me and he is helpful. These are tender times, and I find that I have to park my personal agenda aside to do what is the more important. Yet, I sense God’s presence lifting me up.
My teenager and I talked for a couple of hours today. We were talking about junk food and the conversation took off from there. It was good stuff. I found myself amazed at some of her insights. She’s been thinking. For close to a year there had been a barrier in our relationship until a few weeks ago when it crumbled. Is God good? Yes, He is wonderful. That barrier had been an ugly thing, it kept us apart and hindered our closeness. We both had missed the old times, the way it was before it became painful between us. Today she told me how much she appreciates my faithful walk with God, that it means a lot to her and that she mentions it to others.
When there is pain, we don’t always know how to navigate the difficulty. I didn’t. I was at a loss–and I gave it to God as best I could. Many months ago I asked a couple of trusted friends to pray for her (and me). The problem wasn’t huge, it was more like a concern. She wasn’t rebelling or doing bad things, yet this issue had come between us. It had caused us both to pull back. Her words to me today mean tons to me. They are beautiful.
Sometimes the beautiful cancels out the ugly. It did that today. We have had several such talks, each one a little closer to the center than the one before. I thank God for ministering to me and to her and then allowing us to understand each other by helping us to communicate in a way that we could both hear what the other one was saying. That is icing on the cake.
