What have I done?

Heart Lessons

It’s been 6 months since I last wrote, because honestly, I haven’t known what to say. But this morning’s thoughts sort of wrapped things up. ‘What have I done?’. This adventurous life of following God’s purposes is mostly amazing. And then there are very honest moments, like this past week, where big decisions have to be made that highlight just how differently His thoughts are from our own. It was time to decide whether or not I was going to re-up the lease on the house we’re living in. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I’d decided that we’d be in this home one year, and next steps would be crystal clear by the time we moved out. Well, here we are. And there’s no more clarity to be had. If anything, things have changed even more.

I felt a pause in January of this year (after my last post) to halt my new business and wait on next steps. The business I’d formally launched only 10 months prior. Only 6 months after we’d moved to a different house, in a new town, with a new school and church. I didn’t love that directive, but I’ve come to know His voice well enough to know that if He asks me to do something like that, it’s for a purpose. He is sharing what He wants me to accomplish in the downtime, but there truly is no rhyme or reason yet as to how all of this will come together to provide a stable income and future for my little family of 2.

So, I asked to see His plans.

Yes, I did. And when He didn’t reveal how these floating puzzle pieces all neatly come together, I sat down and attempted to draft it on my own. It was a disaster. Firstly, I didn’t invite the Holy Spirit to guide the process. I was angry and full of despair, and while the Power Point template was beautiful (that’s right, there’s a Power Point) it was a disheveled mess of consciousness, half based on my volatile emotions, and the other half somewhat based in truth. Secondly, my intent was not to understand, but to control. I don’t want to write a check for a year’s worth of rent without a fully vetted plan.

I was negotiating the level of risk that I was willing to take based on how much information He was willing to share.

The issue is not one of provision. He has provided. The issue is that I think He owes me more than He is giving me. Kids are inquisitive, but let’s be honest, much of their asking ‘Why?’ over and over is because they want to control the smallest of things. It’s in our nature to seek control. The only difference between that childlike response and mine was that this guilty party was much taller and had some pretty fonts and graphics.

Let’s be honest, we don’t want to see the back-end support. It would stress us out. Have you seen the motherboard of a computer? Or the inner workings of a rollercoaster? For the layman, does that help you enjoy the finished product any more? No. There’s a reason that they don’t offer behind-the-scenes tours before you get on the thrill ride or purchase your laptop. We wouldn’t begin to understand it, and we’d be so distracted with unnecessary information we wouldn’t even enjoy the experience. And, we’d likely derail things in the process, pushing buttons we had no business touching.

By saying ‘What have I done?’ I’m taking credit for having gotten myself here. Like I somehow assembled the components of my machine. I like to equate my relationship to God as my business partner. He and I signed an agreement a few years ago, and we do work together. Now imagine walking into a business meeting to review a project that’s at mid-point. There are no actual results to be reviewed, but you storm in, declare everything a failure, and without having actually owned the process, fall on the sword and say that everything is your fault. How would that make the project leader feel? Do you think you are communicating trust? In Him as the owner, or in the project itself?

Well, I am the project. And He is the project owner. And despite my very confusing mixed messages, I do not want Him to hand me the hardware and walk away. We’ve come too far and He has proven Himself too incredible to stop now.

So, let’s change our language from ‘What have I done?’ to ‘What would You have me do?’.

The tendency will be to focus on the past (done) and linger there, lamenting over what we think has gone wrong, rather than His current will (do) and the good that will inevitably come out of the finished product. Choose the now.

It’s not about me.

Heart Lessons

Since virtual schooling started this year, my anxiety about protecting my son from any-and-all damage has seen a marked uptick. And I know most moms are similarly on team worrying-our-faces-off. The worry then snowballs into full-fledged panic, escorting me on a very dysfunctional trip back to 2011, when I was becoming licensed as a foster parent. I should have seen the cracks in my marriage. I should have known that my divorce would leave a boy already suffering from trauma and feelings of rejection to deal with more trauma and more rejection. How could I have done this to him? Anyone see a theme here? I. I. I. Here’s the voice I heard that stopped me dead in my tracks: ‘It’s not about you, Kerri.’

Whoa. Are you saying that self reflection is not a good thing? That I shouldn’t own my part in others’ pain? I avoided dealing with my feelings for decades, and now You are telling me to stop?

And off I went again, down the logic rabbit-trail; guided by nothing more than my own insecurities and delusion that I’m somehow capable of rerouting, nay, REWRITING another’s destiny.

The revelations that followed wreck me.
‘You don’t get to undo the good that I want to do in the midst and aftermath of the bad.’
And ‘I get to decide what Deacon needs, not you.’
And finally ‘Often your part is simply to make way for what I’m doing for another.’

Try as I may, there is no reconciling how I live in a world created by such a wonderful Father, yet horrible things happen to children. And that’s often where I go off track. When we attempt to make sense of something that is counter to our nature as humans, we will spin off into questioning what we deem the logical implications of it. The only way to regain control of something so horrific, so unimaginable, is to decide that I somehow now affect the outcome and that my role is to right a myriad of wrongs. This logic is what sends those in the holy fight for social justice into an early grave.

We aren’t built to assume the sins of the world. Only Christ could and did do that.

Our job is to ask what our purpose is, wait on the answer, and obey when we hear it. We have to trust that others will do their part, and where there is a deficit, God will step in. The solace that I must lean on EVERY moment of EVERY day is that God is working all things together for good for those called according to His purpose. His purpose; not mine. We know that our thoughts are not His thoughts. So if I am not fully aware of His thoughts, I do not have a full comprehension of how He is making things good. I don’t get to control what that looks like. And even if I’d like to think so, I’m not undoing what a masterful Creator crafted as part of the good. It’s not about me.

Somewhere along the way, I became a martyr to being a foster and ultimately adoptive mom. Layer on doing this unexpectedly as a single mom, and, well, you now have a legitimate Joan of Arc parental saint situation. This again twisted my thinking to this whole thing being about MY cause, MY need to help him heal, MY role in mitigating further harm. God’s role as his Father gets lost in the shuffle. So, as God pulled on the loose thread in my very flawed thinking, something became abundantly clear. He knows better than I. Few things make me angrier than this input from others when they see me struggling: ‘God knew this was coming and He will take care of it.’ Behind my tolerant smile is a silent eye-roll and a thought that obviously God knew (insert stressful situation here) was coming. He’s God. But knowing this fact and understanding it are two very, very different things. My humanity continually takes me back to seeing time as a linear thing. Using readily available statistics, we can determine that the average human male life span is xx. My son suffered trauma at the ages of xx, xx, and xx, which, based on studies typically results in behavioral issues x, y, and z. If my marriage fails, that applies a multiplier of xx and additional struggles x, y, and z. Volatility surrounding racial tensions and a global pandemic further increase his trajectory towards full-fledged dysfunction, likely at the age of xx. Identified root cause: failures of the mother. Where in this timeline is the room for the plans for prosperity; to NOT harm?

If the Word of God creates the very universe, and He has already SPOKEN these good things over my son, then they already exist.

We are simply on a crash course towards the good thing. The in-between is messy. I don’t think He would argue with that. But ultimately, it’s not about me.

I’ll veer away from parenting for a moment to speak to His last point. There have been several times in the last 5 years when I took a big leap of faith, which I believed was based on very clear direction, and there was never any clear understanding why. For a pragmatic girl who has only recently begun taking risk, this pains me. There may be several explanations. Someone else may not have done their part. God’s plan is infinitely complex and far-reaching, and the many moving parts require obedience of others. You may have heard incorrectly. Yup. We get it wrong sometimes, but that’s where the whole ‘working all things together for good’ promise jumps in and does its thing. But this last line of reasoning, which I think is what happens most of the time, is that you are part of a plan that is contributing to His good plans for another. Yes, He desires to bless you in your obedience, but ultimately, this may not be part of what you understand to be His larger plans and purpose for you. I remember speaking to a coworker when I was transitioning roles at a company, and she said something that has stuck with me. ‘Sometimes it’s about giving someone else a new opportunity.’ Here I was, looking at my long-term growth potential by considering a lateral move, and ultimately, the greater need was for someone else to grow. Let’s look at the flip-side of opportunity and consider, for a moment, the fact that failures might not even be about what we do or do not need, or even some big life lesson. How much have you learned from the testimony of another’s missteps? Sometimes there’s not even a triumphant ending. But their transparency in telling their story is exactly what you needed to hear to avoid a landmine. Their ‘Well, at least I know what NOT to do next time’ was your segue into successfully navigating some rough waters. As a parent, what opportunities do we have to introduce our kids to an idea or experience, and then step back and let God take it from there? It would be myopic to think that the role of parents does not greatly alter the lives of our children, but where have we significantly overstepped and removed the opportunity for God to do what He needs to do?

Here’s a mind-blower; maybe part of my role in my son’s life is simply logistics.

Maybe it’s a big part. God wanted him in this town, at a specific school, in a specific church, playing with specific teams, making specific friends. The bold moves that I made in stepping out in faith may not have evidence of a providential encounter. Maybe I am simply the car that drives him to the house, to go to the school and church, to meet the friends. Maybe it’s not about me.

Be encouraged, however begrudgingly, that even if it’s not about you, it is always for you. Take a cue from Carrie Underwood and turn over the wheel. You are destined for big, huge, wonderful things; some so overwhelming that it will make your heart hurt (in the best possible way). But assuming the weight of the outcome will only hurt you physically and emotionally. And in your state of disrepair you will miss the beauty of all things working together for good.