Tuesday, May 22, 2012

Thy Will Be Done


I am a firm believer in the power of prayer.  But I'm afraid that "how" I should pray has always left me in a little bit  of a quandary.  I am a "Thy will be done" kind of girl.  They are the very words we were commanded to pray by our Lord and Savior.  He, too, spoke them on the Mount of Olives,  "Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done."  Luke 22:42  Yet, both Matthew and Luke tell us, "Ask, Seek, Knock...and it will be given unto you."  And what about the way that Abraham pleaded for Sodom?

I am reminded of a story I once read.  There was a terrible drought in a small farming town and the preacher had called for a prayer meeting so that the town could pray for rain.  On the day of the prayer meeting, one little girl showed up with her umbrella in hand.  It still makes me smile to think of the faith of that child; knowing that their prayers would be answered.

 “If you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it will obey you."  Luke 17:6

Last week, Hannah was supposed to have a party at a park with the entire 5th grade class.  It was their end of the year party.  We had been experiencing an unusual, but much needed, bout of rain the night before the party. It was pouring cats and dogs when we went to bed.  I suggested to Hannah that she pray for no rain the next day (I know that Danny and I both did).  The next morning when we got up, it was still raining and we received a phone call from the school letting parents know that the party had been postponed due to weather. Interestingly, on the way to school, the sun was beginning to shine.  I mentioned it to Hannah and asked if she had prayed the night before.  She confirmed that she did and I asked, "but did you believe?"  Again, she said "yes".  I said, "Well, it looks like it's going to be a nice day".

The rain came late that evening.  They would have had a 'rain-free' party.  When I picked the kids up from school, I commented on it.  Hannah was rather disappointed with the turn of events.  For me, I am hoping that she remembers this day as the day she asked God for it not to rain... and it didn't.

"Truly I tell you, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.”  Luke 18:17

Faith Like a Child, Jars of Clay

Thursday, May 17, 2012

A love like that...

Today marks 8 years since my daddy entered into eternal life.  It took me half a day to realize it.  As I reflect on it and realize that my heart doesn't ache for him, I have so many thoughts and feelings racing up inside me.

My memories of my childhood and the home that I grew up in seem perfectly normal to me.  But then I get the opportunity to see other's lives in reflection and realize that I missed out on something.  Our's was not a house of 'hugs and kisses' and lots of 'I love yous', but I don't remember feeling 'unloved' either.  We had our skeletons in our closets; some more gruesome than other's and none that we talked about.  The largest elephant in the room, the one that still lingers and holds tight to my heart, was my parent's alcoholism.

I would say that I first noticed it when I was about 16.  For several years I worked hard at trying to maintain some semblance of a relationship with my parents.  All too often, my mother would not remember conversations that we had.  I would make it a point to spend my lunch hours at their house; knowing that it was too early for them to be drunk.  My parent's alcoholism has bore many scars over the years.  My father died an alcoholic and my mother struggled with it up until about 3 years ago.  I am pleased that she finally beat this terrible disease.  But our relationship still suffers.

I see other people's posts on Facebook, "It's been two years since my father died.  I miss him terribly."  Just this past week I searched through Mother's Day cards for my own mother.  (Something I struggle with every year.)  Cards filled with words of immeasurable love...words that my heart cannot feel.  And I wish that it were not so.

My husband and his sisters loved their mother.  He speaks of her often.  She died before I had a chance to meet her.  He tells me how much I would have loved her and how the kids would have adored her.  I want to feel that.  I want a love like that...

On Mother's Day, one of my sister-in-laws went to visit her mother's graveside.  She took a picture and sent it to my other sister-in-law whom we were having lunch with.  It had been 21 years since their mother had died.  She left them on a Mother's Day.  My sister-in-law sat there and cried.  You could feel the love and the loneliness.  I want a love like that...

My mother is still living.  She lives about an hour's drive away.  We visit her as often as time allows.  My children love her.  Our relationship struggles.  I visit more out of obligation and the fact that I want my children to have a relationship with her.  I have tried to find more.  I have prayed for more.  I will admit that while looking through cards this year I thought, maybe it's not about me.  Maybe the words in the card are not about me so much as they are for her.  Maybe she needs a love like that...

I hope that one day, when I have gone from this world, my children will ache for me.  I hope they have a love like that...