Thursday, December 19, 2013
One Perfect God
Tears of fury brimmed and spilled over as I stared into my communion cup. Worse than the occasional bickering before church on a Sunday, we actually fought in the hallway dropping the kids off at Sunday School this time. This isn't me. Who is this cranky wench?
The ugly words I'd hissed at him make my cheeks flame. "If he's such a blessing, why can't somebody else be blessed for an hour?"
The daily hours of screaming and whining are wearing on both of us, and likely the kids, too, although they roll with it a lot better than we parents do. The rare times when I get out of the house, I open the door to come back in, and I hear Luke. Heaviness descends on me like the lead shield at the dentist's office. It's a weight I carry all of his waking hours.
Looking into the tiny cup of juice, I pray, "God, why have you done this to me?" But that's not really fair, either. I was the one who wanted a boy. Even though He so clearly brought Katie to our family, I had to have a boy, too. I was the one who couldn't wait for the perfect match. I was willing to take a chance on whatever file I could get that wouldn't slow us down. No, I sigh, God didn't do this to me.
God is perfect. God's plan is perfect. We stray from that perfect plan over and over again. And I imagine Him looking down from heaven, saying, "Recalculating route," with a sigh, like a cosmic Magellan.
As much as I just want this to all go away, as much as I would rather wake up tomorrow and have Luke climb out of his crib, open his door and come tell me to make him some breakfast, I know that's not going to happen.
I also know, that somewhere on the other side of this, there is good. I can't see it yet. I can't even imagine what it might be. But I trust in a Perfect God. Oh, I struggle! Fighting over whether or not to put Luke in Sunday School makes it painfully obvious that I'm still not embracing it. But deep down, I know. He's got it all under control.
I once lamented that we didn't get the "cool story" like so many other families do, of God's provision during their adoption. Maybe that's why I don't think God will choose to heal Luke, even though I know He could if He wanted to. I doubt we'll get the cool story this time, either. Much like we paid for our adoptions through Paul's hard work, we simply have to do the work that comes along with caring for a profoundly delayed child and wait to see what God has in store for us.
No, I'm not perfect. I never will be. Even if I someday get to that enviable point where I can smile and say that we're glad we adopted Luke, I still won't be a perfect mom or a perfect person. But I know Who is. And I'm putting my mustard seed sized faith in the fact that He knows how this is all going to play out, and His Word says that, "All things work together for good for those who are called according to His purpose." Despite my imperfections.
Thanks for clicking for us!