In light of recent events, there's a thought that has kept going through my mind. I've heard it many times; I'm sure you have, too. And after having heard this quote over the years, within the past months alone I've heard it...debunked, I guess. I've struggled with this, because it was sort of my mantra in troubling times. I'm nowhere near an expert. I'm learning new things each day. So bear with me as this is just my take on this.
"God doesn't give you more than you can handle."
I've seen and heard people now say that this isn't true. That He does occasionally give us more than we can handle. That some things are just too much for any mortal to take. But I don't think that is true and it really bugs me that people are beginning to think this way. Sure, God gives us a lot. He tests us. He tries us. He takes us on tedious journeys that seem to take the long way around to our destination. But He's always with us. People think that they can't go on, they can't do it, because they don't call on Him. He's the One to give us strength to get through. If you don't believe, have faith, then you don't know His strength is there.
Think about Job. Job went through a lot. God allowed everything to be taken from him. His family, his wealth, his health. But he kept his faith. He did not turn away from God. And in return God got him through it. He rewarded him for his faith. If Job couldn't have handled it, well, it would have been a much different outcome. But how did Job handle it? Because of God. He gave it all to God. If it was God's will, then Job understood. This was just Job's test. And he passed with flying colors.
God tests us, too. Sometimes with little things. Sometimes with much, much bigger things. But do you ever think that maybe He gives us these tests so that we HAVE to call on Him or acknowledge Him? I guess, in a sense, maybe He does give us more than we can handle...if we try to handle it ALONE. But if we ask for His help and have faith that God is on our side then we CAN handle anything, big or small.
Remember: "If God brings you to it, He'll get you through it." (That's another mantra of mine!)
Thursday, May 29, 2014
Thursday, May 22, 2014
I Will Praise You in This Storm
The Lord giveth...
...And He taketh away.
I honestly cannot tell you where exactly this is specifically written in the Bible, or if it even is. It is truly evident throughout the Scripture. I'd always heard the saying and just took it lightly, like when I would get money and manage to lose a couple bucks when they fell out of my pocket unbeknownst to me. Yesterday it took on a much deeper, much closer meaning.
The morning didn't start well. I woke up to the sound of my phone. A call from mom telling me that my grandfather had passed away overnight. It was kind of expected, but sad nonetheless. Then, for those of you that don't know (and that's probably many of you reading this now), Mike and I received some of the worst news we could have. After having some spotting and then later a bit of light cramping that we thought came from me overdoing it between recent yard work and an influx of grooms, we went to the doctor to make sure our 11-week-old fetus was doing okay. I had some blood drawn by the nurse and was told I'd get a call with the results and go in the next day (today) for an exam with my doctor. Twenty minutes after we left the office we received a call to go have an ultrasound done. The blood results weren't in yet, but just to be on the safe side. So Mike and I went down to Pantops to a specialist. The nurse came in first and did the ultrasound. Panic began to take hold as I searched the screen. "The baby moved, right?" I thought. "That's a flicker of the heart," I told myself. The nurse finished and told me the doctor would be in in a moment to talk to me. I waited there praying silently with Mike and Jake, who hadn't had a nap yet and was running on fumes and not paying a lick of attention to daddy. The doctor came in, looked at the image on the screen, and then said the words as he patted my shoulder comfortingly..."Well, this doesn't look good." I looked at the image, then to him. Amid Jake fussing that he didn't want to sit on the chair by daddy and wanting something (I'm not sure what), I heard the words "too small" and "no movement" and "surgery." I told Mike to take Jake out because he was too loud and distracting, though I know Mike wanted to stay in and understand with me. Once they left, the doctor went on to explain. Short story: I was 11 weeks pregnant, but our baby was only 8 weeks and wouldn't be growing anymore. Though the baby was small I wouldn't be able to pass it on my own without a lot of blood loss so I needed a procedure, surgery if you will, to safely get it out. We had an appointment scheduled for the next day (today) to go over pre-op. God had other plans.
They had told me that I would have cramping, and even possibly heavier spotting. The cramping began to get worse and I was going to have Mike run out and get me some Ibuprofen since we were out. I went to sit in the bathroom because it was more comfortable until he got back. He never got the chance to leave. I don't think you want all the very messy details, but that initial panic at the doctor's office raged into full-blown fear. Mike called 911 who immediately sent a unit to us. Right from the moment the woman walked in to talk to me, my fear (though not fully dissipated) eased immensely as she related to me her own similar tale. She helped me up and I was able to walk out to the ambulance.
At the hospital, things got worse. Mike wasn't there yet (he had to wait until my brother was able to come watch Jake for us...I love you, Jimmy!) and there seemed to be no end to the pain or blood (I'm sorry, I'm not trying to be gory. I'll try to keep it to just that.). As long as the nurses were there talking to me, some of them telling me their own similar events, I was okay (well, okay enough considering). There was one time, however, that they left me for a moment. I looked up at the ceiling and prayed. I prayed HARD! I told God through the tears, "There's a reason. Right? There's a reason for all of this. I know there is. Please tell me there's a reason." When the nurses came back in and two doctors examined me, I was told I had to go to the OR to have the procedure done I was supposed to be scheduling in a few days because there was too much blood to wait (sorry again!). The fear set in again as I thought of everything that could go wrong on the table. Again I was left to myself for a moment and I looked up again, praying that Jake wouldn't be left without a mommy and praying that Mike wouldn't have to lose a baby and a wife in one day (maybe over-dramatic, but sadly that's how my mind works half the time). I kissed Mike, who had shown up by then, goodbye as they wheeled me in. The last I remember was talking about Jake with the nurses...
I woke up and was told everything was fine and went well. I hadn't lost enough to need a transfusion. I remember in my groggy state I thanked the nurses, then looked up and thanked Him.
I am now home and resting after it all. I know there is a reason, though I may not know what it is. I do thank God for the people He sent to me during all of this to help me through, with their stories, hugs, and comforting words. I don't know how I would have gotten through without them and I'm sure my blood pressure would have been even worse (it got up to 175/103 at it's highest). I thank God for my loving husband, who at this moment is doing the grocery shopping and had gotten the main chores done around the house for me. I thank God for our beautiful son, who fills us with so much joy and I know someday he'll have a sibling or two, just not in December. And I thank God for my family and friends for all their help, prayers, and support.
I know this was a long, sad post, and I'm sorry for some of the details. But I had to share. I've come a long way in my relationship with the Lord. I know just a few short years ago I probably would have screamed and cried, demanding to know why this had happened. Though I don't know why, and maybe never will, I do know He has a reason and He's keeping us safe. Like one of the nurses told me, this is His way of taking care of something that may have been a problem on down the line before it got too bad. It hurts. It's hard. But He's there taking care of us. He will not forsake us. He has His reasons. We need to trust.
"I'll praise You in this storm
I will lift my hands
'Cause You are who You are
No matter where I am
And every tear I've cried
You hold in Your hand
You never left my side
And though my heart is torn...
I'll praise You in this storm"
~Casting Crowns
...And He taketh away.
I honestly cannot tell you where exactly this is specifically written in the Bible, or if it even is. It is truly evident throughout the Scripture. I'd always heard the saying and just took it lightly, like when I would get money and manage to lose a couple bucks when they fell out of my pocket unbeknownst to me. Yesterday it took on a much deeper, much closer meaning.
The morning didn't start well. I woke up to the sound of my phone. A call from mom telling me that my grandfather had passed away overnight. It was kind of expected, but sad nonetheless. Then, for those of you that don't know (and that's probably many of you reading this now), Mike and I received some of the worst news we could have. After having some spotting and then later a bit of light cramping that we thought came from me overdoing it between recent yard work and an influx of grooms, we went to the doctor to make sure our 11-week-old fetus was doing okay. I had some blood drawn by the nurse and was told I'd get a call with the results and go in the next day (today) for an exam with my doctor. Twenty minutes after we left the office we received a call to go have an ultrasound done. The blood results weren't in yet, but just to be on the safe side. So Mike and I went down to Pantops to a specialist. The nurse came in first and did the ultrasound. Panic began to take hold as I searched the screen. "The baby moved, right?" I thought. "That's a flicker of the heart," I told myself. The nurse finished and told me the doctor would be in in a moment to talk to me. I waited there praying silently with Mike and Jake, who hadn't had a nap yet and was running on fumes and not paying a lick of attention to daddy. The doctor came in, looked at the image on the screen, and then said the words as he patted my shoulder comfortingly..."Well, this doesn't look good." I looked at the image, then to him. Amid Jake fussing that he didn't want to sit on the chair by daddy and wanting something (I'm not sure what), I heard the words "too small" and "no movement" and "surgery." I told Mike to take Jake out because he was too loud and distracting, though I know Mike wanted to stay in and understand with me. Once they left, the doctor went on to explain. Short story: I was 11 weeks pregnant, but our baby was only 8 weeks and wouldn't be growing anymore. Though the baby was small I wouldn't be able to pass it on my own without a lot of blood loss so I needed a procedure, surgery if you will, to safely get it out. We had an appointment scheduled for the next day (today) to go over pre-op. God had other plans.
They had told me that I would have cramping, and even possibly heavier spotting. The cramping began to get worse and I was going to have Mike run out and get me some Ibuprofen since we were out. I went to sit in the bathroom because it was more comfortable until he got back. He never got the chance to leave. I don't think you want all the very messy details, but that initial panic at the doctor's office raged into full-blown fear. Mike called 911 who immediately sent a unit to us. Right from the moment the woman walked in to talk to me, my fear (though not fully dissipated) eased immensely as she related to me her own similar tale. She helped me up and I was able to walk out to the ambulance.
At the hospital, things got worse. Mike wasn't there yet (he had to wait until my brother was able to come watch Jake for us...I love you, Jimmy!) and there seemed to be no end to the pain or blood (I'm sorry, I'm not trying to be gory. I'll try to keep it to just that.). As long as the nurses were there talking to me, some of them telling me their own similar events, I was okay (well, okay enough considering). There was one time, however, that they left me for a moment. I looked up at the ceiling and prayed. I prayed HARD! I told God through the tears, "There's a reason. Right? There's a reason for all of this. I know there is. Please tell me there's a reason." When the nurses came back in and two doctors examined me, I was told I had to go to the OR to have the procedure done I was supposed to be scheduling in a few days because there was too much blood to wait (sorry again!). The fear set in again as I thought of everything that could go wrong on the table. Again I was left to myself for a moment and I looked up again, praying that Jake wouldn't be left without a mommy and praying that Mike wouldn't have to lose a baby and a wife in one day (maybe over-dramatic, but sadly that's how my mind works half the time). I kissed Mike, who had shown up by then, goodbye as they wheeled me in. The last I remember was talking about Jake with the nurses...
I woke up and was told everything was fine and went well. I hadn't lost enough to need a transfusion. I remember in my groggy state I thanked the nurses, then looked up and thanked Him.
I am now home and resting after it all. I know there is a reason, though I may not know what it is. I do thank God for the people He sent to me during all of this to help me through, with their stories, hugs, and comforting words. I don't know how I would have gotten through without them and I'm sure my blood pressure would have been even worse (it got up to 175/103 at it's highest). I thank God for my loving husband, who at this moment is doing the grocery shopping and had gotten the main chores done around the house for me. I thank God for our beautiful son, who fills us with so much joy and I know someday he'll have a sibling or two, just not in December. And I thank God for my family and friends for all their help, prayers, and support.
I know this was a long, sad post, and I'm sorry for some of the details. But I had to share. I've come a long way in my relationship with the Lord. I know just a few short years ago I probably would have screamed and cried, demanding to know why this had happened. Though I don't know why, and maybe never will, I do know He has a reason and He's keeping us safe. Like one of the nurses told me, this is His way of taking care of something that may have been a problem on down the line before it got too bad. It hurts. It's hard. But He's there taking care of us. He will not forsake us. He has His reasons. We need to trust.
"I'll praise You in this storm
I will lift my hands
'Cause You are who You are
No matter where I am
And every tear I've cried
You hold in Your hand
You never left my side
And though my heart is torn...
I'll praise You in this storm"
~Casting Crowns
Sunday, May 18, 2014
If I Had a Million Dollars
Well, hello there!
I know, it's been A WHILE since I've last written. One reason is because my husband got me a Nook for my birthday and I usually use that while he takes the laptop to work. It's a little more difficult to type large bodies of words on the Nook. And even when the laptop's at home, I haven't had much inspiration lately to write. But now that I'm back, I'm sure you're just on the edge of your seat waiting to hear...er...read more of the inner workings of my mind (scary, I know!).
I come to you today because my husband is a horrible person. Yes, you read correctly. I'm calling my husband a horrible person. I called him that to his face last night. Maybe you could blame hormones, but I think this is true. Why on Earth would I call my dearest this? Well, because he is.
Okay, let me back up. Last night we were talking about winning the lottery. Yep, one of those conversations. Come on, you've had them before, even if with yourself. We were talking about what we'd do if we won and how we'd spend our hypothetical winnings. Here's where my horrible husband comes in. Now, we've talked about this many times before, and usually when it's brought up again the same lists and amounts are said (we just like to remind ourselves about our plans so we're set when it does happen I guess!). I brought up giving to the family as I always do. Mike became a little skeptical. Horrible. I finally managed to get him to agree giving to ALL the family, as opposed to just our parents. Horrible. But guys, if you're reading this, when the day comes don't expect a whole lot. Horrible.
Next, we moved on to charities. We'd come up with a list of charities that we both agreed on that we'd give to, including but not limited to: giving to The Summit (our church), St. Jude's, WWF, American Cancer Society, etc. Last night, he had me narrow it down to three. Horrible. Then, again he limited the amounts given to each. Horrible. I also started naming friends and such that I would give to and before I could even mention a few people, he wanted to know exactly how many people he was giving his money to. Horrible.
So the hypothetical number we were going off of was $50 million (after taxes, of course). FIFTY MILLION DOLLARS, PEOPLE!!! And my husband didn't really want to share, even if it is hypothetical money!
Sorry, it actually was kind of comical how miserly he was being and I was silently laughing the whole time he objected to my plans. In reality, it's probably a good thing that he's so restricting with the money because, to tell you the truth, if we do win, I'd want to spread the love! It's not that Mike doesn't want to give, he just has his pockets sewn a little tighter than mine, even if hypothetically speaking.
I know, it's been A WHILE since I've last written. One reason is because my husband got me a Nook for my birthday and I usually use that while he takes the laptop to work. It's a little more difficult to type large bodies of words on the Nook. And even when the laptop's at home, I haven't had much inspiration lately to write. But now that I'm back, I'm sure you're just on the edge of your seat waiting to hear...er...read more of the inner workings of my mind (scary, I know!).
I come to you today because my husband is a horrible person. Yes, you read correctly. I'm calling my husband a horrible person. I called him that to his face last night. Maybe you could blame hormones, but I think this is true. Why on Earth would I call my dearest this? Well, because he is.
Okay, let me back up. Last night we were talking about winning the lottery. Yep, one of those conversations. Come on, you've had them before, even if with yourself. We were talking about what we'd do if we won and how we'd spend our hypothetical winnings. Here's where my horrible husband comes in. Now, we've talked about this many times before, and usually when it's brought up again the same lists and amounts are said (we just like to remind ourselves about our plans so we're set when it does happen I guess!). I brought up giving to the family as I always do. Mike became a little skeptical. Horrible. I finally managed to get him to agree giving to ALL the family, as opposed to just our parents. Horrible. But guys, if you're reading this, when the day comes don't expect a whole lot. Horrible.
Next, we moved on to charities. We'd come up with a list of charities that we both agreed on that we'd give to, including but not limited to: giving to The Summit (our church), St. Jude's, WWF, American Cancer Society, etc. Last night, he had me narrow it down to three. Horrible. Then, again he limited the amounts given to each. Horrible. I also started naming friends and such that I would give to and before I could even mention a few people, he wanted to know exactly how many people he was giving his money to. Horrible.
So the hypothetical number we were going off of was $50 million (after taxes, of course). FIFTY MILLION DOLLARS, PEOPLE!!! And my husband didn't really want to share, even if it is hypothetical money!
Sorry, it actually was kind of comical how miserly he was being and I was silently laughing the whole time he objected to my plans. In reality, it's probably a good thing that he's so restricting with the money because, to tell you the truth, if we do win, I'd want to spread the love! It's not that Mike doesn't want to give, he just has his pockets sewn a little tighter than mine, even if hypothetically speaking.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
