If the Lord allowed us to stay on the mountaintops forever, we’d never grow.  It’s in the valleys that we hurt, feel overwhelmed,  fight storms and so much more.  And eventually “let go and let God”.

That’s where I’ve been recently.  It’s been one curveball after another.  Our family has been in grief mode over some recent events that have left us reeling and questioning our own spiritual walks, our integrity, and so much more.

Preston has  been “off” his game this week that has added chaos and stress to an already stressed household.   This man of mine tries so hard to serve God, me, the kiddos.  His perserverance and determination are often his downfall.

In one instance, I walked across the kitchen floor, wondering if I was SpongeBob Squarepants with all the squeaking beneath my feet.   My kitchen floor was ruined and soaked.  That’s all I wish to say about this matter except that it sent me over the edge for about 24 hours.  And my “edge” means I don’t talk.  Leave me alone.

In the second instance, I get a text while I literally have foils in my hair and at the mercy of my beautician.  All I wanted was for the gray to go.  Preston’s text informs me that he has again messed up his medicines and taken too much of something.   I was exasperated.

In the third instance, just today, I get a panicked call from him wanting to know where Hunter is.  He’s been waiting on him and he hasn’t shown up.  I calmly tell him that Hunter is at school. It’s not time for Hunter too be home.

The weight of all this baggage was getting heavier and heavier.  Even though I went to revival last week and very much enjoyed the sweet spirit, I clung tight to that baggage.  I didn’t go near the altar, not for myself anyway.

Today, when panicked Preston called, it reminded me that I must muster the strength to carry on for him, for the boys.  No matter how heavy it gets.   Sometimes I don’t want to be anybody’s lifeline, but that’s not an option.

Tonight, a light bulb went off.

It’s not my baggage(with an attached noose)

Not my pig. Not my farm.

The battle belongs to the Lord.  And I acknowledged that tonight. And prayed at the altar for MYSELF.  I can’t remember the last time I did that.

The peace, discernment, and clarity that came instantly once that noose was removed was unbelievable.   God is not the author of chaos and confusion. Ever.

He is, however, the author of conviction.  He’s reminded me of my sweet Preston and how I haven’t been fair to him lately.   Preston tries so hard.  His whole world has been off kilter all week and I’ve made it worse by trying to hold him accountable for things he can’t help.

I remember when Preston was in the coma for so long…. hooked up to life support, I tried to bargain with God(which btw, is NOT how God works).  If God would just let Preston live, even as a vegetable on full life support, I’d spend my life “happily” taking care of him and  never complain.  I’d clean the trach, medicate the bed sores, change the diapers and never, ever, complain.

God did so much more.  He gave me Preston back, a different model, but my Preston.  He gave Preston his soul back.  His ability to love me as only he can and does.

Yes, the struggles are real.  When I started this blog, it was a place for me to be real and take the mask off.  Life is hard.  Sometimes, it downright sucks!  But for every time it sucks, I guarantee I’ve been blessed two-fold.

My gentle giant is absolutely one of the best and greatest blessings the Lord has given me.  I hope to spend Valentine’s showing him just how much.

Happy Valentine’s everyone!

 

 

The beancounter.