Wednesday, February 12, 2014

On Faith and Trusting God

So from the title of this blog I'm sure you've deduced a few things about me.

One, I've been diagnosed with Bipolar II.

Two, I am a Mommy.

And three, I have faith.  Or at least I want to have faith!

I am a Christian.  I was raised in church and so I've known about God and Jesus for as long as I can remember.  I still remember my mother reading me Bible stories when I was very small.  I can still remember the picture of the princess  of Egypt taking baby Moses out of the Nile river in one of my old Bible story books.

Mom would read to me and then I'd look at the books and tell myself the stories.

I remember not understanding why everybody in the Bible seemed to have trouble trusting in God when they had problems when He obviously always fixed things.

Now that I am older and have lived a little longer I have seen that things don't always end well, at least not on this earth.  Hubby and I have been through some scary stuff ourselves and we've seen friends suffer badly.
 
I have been having conversations with God about this lately.

You see, I have ideas about what my life should look like.  And I don't think that my ideas . . .that the pictures in my head are unreasonable.  Healthy kids, enough money to pay our bills and spend a little on pleasures such as taking the kids to the pool, over to the National Park, etc . . .nothing fancy . . .

Enough means to go see my parents on a regular basis.  These are the things I want.  Basically, I want stability.  I want to know that everything is going to be "okay".

Some days I get that.  I get that "peace that passes all understanding."

And other days I don't.   There are days when I get up and I feel like the problems are too big.  I mean I have days when I feel like any little thing could make me either burst into tears or blow up in anger.   I usually don't do either of those things, but just feeling like I could is bad enough.  On days like the one I just described I am amazed that I can put on clothes and make-up and go out in public and auto-pilot takes over.

I say "Hi" and "How are you?" and I function pretty well, I think.  I hope.  But when I get home I sigh a deep breath because I made it through because on days like those I pray over every little thing: that the annoying lock on my car will please cooperate.  That the light will just turn green and let me go.  Silly, silly things.  I don't know if "normal" people feel that way or not.  I don't know how much of this is just hormones and part of being a woman or how much of it is being someone who has bipolar OR how much of it is spiritual warfare.  I just don't know.

All I know is that I do my best to combat my physical problems by taking care of myself:  proper sleep, proper food, exercise and my meds.

And I also know that I have to take care of myself spiritually.  No one is going to force me to open my Bible everyday.  No one will sit me in a corner and say "Now write out a prayer.  Do it."  No one makes me turn towards God when I am afraid.

But if I do crack open my Bible when I am afraid . . .guess what happens?  Not every time ( I have had very discouraging times when I tried for a connection with God and nothing happened) but sometimes words  and concepts leap off of the page and comfort me.  

Today's words might comfort you, too.  Now, these are actually not Bible verses but they were in my Bible notes ( Women of Faith Bible, year 2000, page 564)

Build a little fence of trust
Around today;
Fill the space with loving work,
And therein stay;
Look not through the sheltering bars
Upon to-morrow;
God will help thee bear what comes
Of joy or sorrow.

-Mary Frances Butts

Now how about that?  A little fence of trust around today.  And fill the space with loving work.

That is exactly what God calls me to, and you, everyday.  We aren't supposed to spend all day thinking about six months from now or a year from now when something that we might not enjoy MAY or MAY NOT occur.
I have been reading in I Kings 19 about Elijah and how alone he felt and how God came to him as a "still, small voice".  Elijah was ready to die.  He wanted to die.  Life was too hard.  And yet God came to him, comforted him and showed him that he still had purpose for him and also, that he was not alone.  Because besides Elijah there were seven thousand in Israel who had not bowed the knee to Baal, the false god.

I have to remember that God will come to me, too, when I am wretched and at the end of my rope.  But He doesn't want me to get to that spot.  He wants me to, invites me to trust Him.  To do my day to day duties and leave the problem solving up to Him.  I am to dialogue with Him so I know what's going on . . .yes . . .but I am not to dialogue with Him in such a way that I am telling Him exactly what to do . . .prayer is not to be me telling God how to run my life.

Sometimes it needs to be me just coming to say . . ."Hey, here I am.  Thank you for being You and taking care of me;  and I'm scared and could You just comfort me a little?  Remind me of how things aren't so bad and how stuff turned out really well in the past, actually?  Thank You.  Thank You."

And the days when I take it all and dump it in His lap, those are the days that turn into the stretches where I am more than okay and the dishes get done and the laundry gets done and the kids keep thriving.  And it all starts with a choice to turn to Him.

~ Jennifer

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