Thoughts On Not Giving Up

 

 

Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.  Galatians 6:9

 

Do you ever have a verse or a quote that mocks you?  For me, it’s Galatians 6:9.  A tough part of my personality is that I constantly see how I could improve.  My to do list, my vision board, my book pile – all littered with self improvement ideals.  It’s exhausting and I regularly feel like not doing all the good things I think I need to be doing. 

 

Yesterday, I very much felt like checking out.  No more disciplining kids who keep doing whatever they want to do, no more low-sugar meals, no more keeping the house clean or answering texts in a timely way.  Galatians 6:9 came to mind and I quickly rejected the thought.  ‘Don’t tell me what to do, Galatians.  I’m tired and I’m playing a mindless game on my phone.  I’m done.’

 

Today, my mother-in-law took the kids for the majority of the day.  I had space to think, to sit, to be in a rational headspace again.  At the end of my solitude time, I decided to dig into Galatians 6:9.  I don’t really think God put it in the Bible to shame me or make me mad.  There had to be something to glean with closer inspection.  Here are two thoughts from my time with this verse:

 

#1:  God Can Be My Coca-Cola Truck

 

I was inspired by the surrounding verses as well.  It seems so simple – invest in negative, selfish stuff, get negative, selfish stuff back.  Invest in Holy Spirit inspired, eternally significant stuff, get goodness and eternal life back.  But why can’t I do it consistently?  Why is it so hard for me to stay the course?

 

God reminded me of my recent trip to Seattle.  We (husband Jeff, two sons, and one foster daughter) and I drove over in the evening after Jeff’s work.  We dropped Jeff off at a hotel near the airport (he had a very early flight the next day) and I drove the kids north to my parents’ house.  It was very late, very dark, and very, very rainy.  Because of a corrective eye surgery I had years ago, driving at night is already difficult for me.  Headlights create a glare that makes it hard to see.  That night, this was compounded by the crazy heavy rain on the freeway.  I was panicking and trying to keep my cool with three still awake kids blissfully watching Shrek.   I started praying out loud.  My five year old, Luke, joined me.  “God please stop the rain so my mom can see.  Help her get to Grammy and Papa’s house.”

 

I made my way to the far right lane so I could go slower without bothering too many people.  That’s when God provided a Coca-Cola truck.  A big, beautiful Coca-Cola truck with four wonderfully visible red lights in a big square on the back.  It gave me something to follow that I could see. 

 

Through the glare and haze, I focused on that giant square of brake lights for the majority of the journey.  The truck eventually exited and I prayed again.  “God, what do I do now?”  That’s when the rain stopped.  Luke wasn’t surprised.  “I asked Him to stop it for you, Mom!”  We made safely to my parents’ house.

 

So, I didn’t need to BE any different to get to my destination.  My eyesight did not change.  Instead, I got a reliable focal point.

 

I often feel like giving up on the right things.  God does not.  He’s as steady as they come.  He sets the standard for perseverance, consistency, and goodness.  He can be my Coca-Cola truck.  He can be my reliable focal point to keep me going towards good things.  Just keep staying close - praying, meditating on Scripture, believing what He says.

 

#2:  When I’m Grateful, I Can Name My Harvest

 

I realized another reason why Galatians 6:9 seems so unattainable is I don’t have a good idea of what my harvest actually is.  It feels like parenting, health, doing things for others, etc. are never-ending pursuits that don’t have a clear reaping point.  After studying this afternoon, I still had lots of questions about that.  Clarity came after dinner when I saw our 2 and a half year old foster daughter cleaning up the wooden train set.

 

Since we’ve had her, we have struggled deeply with her behavior issues.  We can rarely leave her alone for even a minute without something naughty happening.  I looked at her smiling, getting along with Luke, and putting toys away without any issues.  I noted the significantly positive behavior change by pausing and thanking God.  I felt Him say, “This is a harvest.”

 

Wow.  Gratitude is a big emphasis in our home, but God showed me I can rename those moments as a harvest; a good fruit of the good seeds He’s helped us plant and tend.  How many times have we redirected naughty behavior?  So. Many. Times.  I want to give up because all I see is continued defiant behavior. 

 

Now, I have better strength to keep going because God helped me see and name the harvest.  The seeds mattered.  He made something good out of them. 

 

God, help me see the harvests in my life.  I know they are everywhere but I need help identifying how past not-giving-ups led to what I’m living now.  Help me focus on you and keep going when I don’t feel like I can.  Please transform Galatians 6:9 from a reminder that I can’t to a reminder that You can.  Amen.

photo credit

File This Under "I Don't Know"

If I were to organize foster parenting in the file cabinet of my life, I’d put it in a file called “I Don’t Know.”  Again and again, that’s my answer.

“How long will the girls be with you?”  I don’t know.

“What’s happening with their mom?”  I don’t know.

“Can they visit their mom while she’s getting better?”  I don’t know.

“Will you have them when your new baby comes?”  I don’t know.

“How will you be able to handle so many kids?”  I don’t know.

 

The list could go on and on.  Almost every day, our two and a half year old, Abby, asks, “Do we have a visit?” and “Who’s going to pick us up?”   I don’t know  and  I don’t know.

 

One day, I thought for sure their mom’s visit was happening.  I even woke the girls up from their nap, tidied their hair, and had them waiting by the window.  A rookie mistake on my part.  The visit had been cancelled and they’d forgotten to tell me.  I texted the driver ten minutes after the scheduled time and found out the visit wasn’t happening.

 

Yesterday, the social worker came for her monthly check in.  There are some new developments that made me think I’d finally have some framework or timeline of expectations.  Like, if A happens, then B will happen for sure.  I’m not a social worker, but I don’t think they ever get to use the phrase “for sure.”  Is that comment too snarky?  Later, when telling my husband Jeff the updates, I said, “So, basically, this could happen, or this, or that, and at any point, their mom’s positive progress could trump the whole process and we start all over.”  Something major could happen in three months, six months, or some indefinite period.  Any of the options mentioned are equally possible in this fruit salad of pivotal life-altering scenarios.

 

I’m learning that living deeply in I Don’t Know Land makes me super uncomfortable.  Drives me crazy, actually.  After the social worker left, I really wanted to go for a walk by myself and process all the unknowns.  Having four little kids and being one hour away from Jeff getting home, that wasn’t going to happen.  I put the girls in the bathtub and the boys in front of a TV show.  Looking at the girls playing in the bath, it wasn’t lost on me that these unknowns are more about them than about me.  I sat on the little kid step stool by the sink and started to cry.  They stopped their washcloth hide and seek game to stare at me.

 

“I’m having a lot of feelings and I’m not sure what to do with them.  It helps to cry a little,” I said.

 

They went back to shrieking and splashing.

 

I texted a friend and told her I was struggling.  She didn’t need to do anything, but it helps me to not feel isolated in my tough spots.  She called moments later.  The conversation was brief, as we both have little ones to care for, but her compassion lifted some of my burden.

 

Still on lifeguard duty with the girls, I settled back on the little stool and Googled “Bible verses about uncertainty” on my phone.

 

Even though I need God more than ever, my time with the Bible has been sparse these past few months.  I don’t know why, but I’ve been hesitant to lean on God as much as I need to.  I’ve been in the mode of just keeping my head down and getting done what needs to get done.

 

Of all the verses on the list I found, Psalm 121:3-8 (ESV) hit me where my heart needed it.  I was feeling really insecure and these verses filled me with security.  Not because I suddenly know what my next six months will look like or whether the girls’ mom will get healthy again or not, but because my security wasn’t coming from knowing those answers. 

 

He will not let your foot be moved;
    he who keeps you will not slumber.
Behold, he who keeps Israel
    will neither slumber nor sleep.

The Lord is your keeper;
    the Lord is your shade on your right hand.
The sun shall not strike you by day,
    nor the moon by night.

The Lord will keep you from all evil;
    he will keep your life.
The Lord will keep
    your going out and your coming in
    from this time forth and forevermore.

 

This is not a new lesson for me.  Of course my security doesn’t come from my circumstances.  But dang, do I fluctuate on this one and need reminders to get back to solid footing.  How can I live this for the girls in whatever time they have with us?  How can my daily “I don’t know” answers to their questions about their life evolve into an answer that’s saturated with godly confidence and peace? 

 

I hate to say it, but I don’t know the answer to that right now.  I could come up with a quick Sunday School answer, but I’d like to let this simmer and see how God teaches me through my daily circumstances.  Maybe as a family, we can learn and live it out together.

 

photo credit

Here's to All the Beginners Out There

My husband and I have always enjoyed looking at open houses.  We love our own house, but also love to explore and dream.  Last week, we took all four kids to a nearby open house.  We carefully coached them ahead of time and they did a wonderful job being curious but courteous.  On the short drive home, Jeff and I discussed what we both liked and I looked at the information card the realtor gave me.  Both in person and in his photo, the realtor looked very, very young.  Jeff said, “He really looks like he could be in high school.”  I totally agreed, but felt compelled to stick up for him.  “Hey, there was a day when we were that guy too.  He has to start somewhere.”

 

I remember what it was like to be a new teacher, still looking like a high school volunteer.  On my first day teaching my own third grade class, I stood outside the door, greeting each student.  I looked inside the now busy and full classroom, then at the cluster of parents standing in the hallway with cameras.  Addressing the parents, I actually said, “It’s going to be okay.”  With that, I left them in the hall and stepped into my first day in charge of their precious kids’ education.  I can only imagine how young and inexperienced I must have seemed.  I'm glad none of the parents chuckled openly at my one sentence pep talk!  But, you know what?  I had to start somewhere.  I had to start working and learning and growing from there.  (Incidentally, I’m still Facebook friends with a mom of one of those students - - a classroom volunteer so encouraging and supportive that she went on a field trip with me even when her son wasn’t in my class the next year)

A friend of mine is about to begin a Master’s program to become a social worker.  It’s a very tough job with a lot of burnout.  A program coordinator asked if she really felt she could do this career.  She already has a testimony of God leading her this way and believes He’ll help her every step.  When I listen to her, all I can think of is, we need good social workers and here’s someone willing to be a beginner; to humbly put herself out there.  I’m behind her all the way.

I’m writing a lot about foster parenting lately.  It’s my newest place of being a beginner.  Similarly to my first year of teaching, I’m starting with some knowledge and experience, even if it's not all under the foster care umbrella.  I’ve worked with kids before and have been a parent of my own boys for some years now.  I took the foster care classes.  I've taught a variety of kids with unique needs.  However, there is so, so much that I don’t know.  A day doesn’t go by where I’m not analyzing how I could have done something differently or what I wish I knew about kids in trauma.  Sometimes, I feel badly for my foster daughters because they are our first placement and it’s such a bumpy road as we learn from our mistakes.  But I remember my first class of third graders too.  I think I brought a lot of creativity to the table in places where my instinct was lacking.  By God’s grace, He will fill in my missing spots in this beginning place.  

My kids need it to be okay to not be expert toy-sharers, tidy spaghetti eaters, or even especially emotional regulators.  They are new at this.  It'll take time, practice, and patience.  

 

Let’s be kind to the beginners out there.  Let’s cheer them on and be gracious for the ways their newness shows.  The world needs people who are willing to step into brave things and not be afraid to learn as they go. 

photo credit