We could see the rain approaching. A few scattered drops had begun to fall, but the wall of water, appearing like fog beside the church just across our back yard, was slowly making its way to us. The sound of it, as it showered our roof, caused our kids to become silent. Clara quietly expressed concern about a baby birds’ nest. It was attached just outside our kitchen window, hidden in the remaining hood-vent from an old oven. The rain intensified and the sound grew louder. Isabel expressed the same sentiment. The kids were silent again. “Let’s pray for the birds,” Thelo simply said. As he clasped his hands and closed his eyes, we followed suit. He prayed for the “baby birds” and the “mamma bird.” He asked God to “keep dem safe.” He also prayed for me. He prayed for his toys and even asked the Lord if He remembered when we were with Daddy at the zoo. As he closed, he said, “in Jesus’ name.” Roman snickered a little bit, Isabel smiled, Thelo went back to eating his noodles, and I sat and stared out the window. Clara had already left the room.
How often do we “express concern” about things but never actually pray?
We don’t pray often as a family, but when we do, it’s not pretend. Thelo’s prayer wasn’t pretend either. Those birds are real and Thelo’s concern is real. God is real and the conversation Thelo had with Him was real. As you consider things you are concerned about and that consideration becomes worry, take it to the Lord in prayer.
Personally, I’ve been burdened for years (transition, sickness, loss, etc). Much of that burden has been made light in the simple act of taking it to the Lord in prayer. The past day, though, my burden has grown inexplicably heavy. I’ve taken it to the Lord, but He hasn’t seen fit to lighten it, yet. I feel sad, irritable, and like I want to dig a hole and hide in it. I don’t feel depressed like this very often, but when I do, I’m not much fun to be around. Would you join me in praying for our circumstances? (Yes, again.)
We are waiting for the right job for Jay. There have been several jobs that we thought would be a good fit for us, but apparently we weren’t a good fit for it. When this eventual, invisible job appears, we will finally have a clue where we will live. (We leave our current home in May.) Each job we consider, has a place to consider. Each place to consider, has a hospital to consider. Thankfully, the staff at Duke is incredible and willingly looks into each place we have presented as possibilities. All of our belongings are still in storage in Houston, TX where they were delivered upon our return from South Africa in August. Some things are in my parents’ attic in Siler City. Some things are at Smoot’s in Florida. The rest is here with us in Raleigh. Up until now, knowing that all of this is out of my control, has been fairly easy to set aside and leave to the Lord. The uncertainty of it all normally emphasizes how glad I am that He is in control. Right now, at this exact moment, I am completely overwhelmed. So overwhelmed there aren’t even tears. So overwhelmed I feel a little angry, a little unhinged.
If I were Gideon, my fleece would be out and I would also be glad to have an enemy camp to sneak into to hear about impending victory. If I were Joshua, I’d be glad to have specific directions on how to march around this wall, no matter how ridiculous and seemingly pointless the activity was. If I were Ruth, I’d be glad for Naomi’s crazy instructions and thankful for Boaz’s virtue and provision. I don’t have a fleece. There is no identifiable enemy encamped. There is no actual wall. No kinsman redeemer with provisions of a home. Instead, we simply have a “missionary call” and no mission. More like David, anointed as king, but sent out to shepherd sheep instead of lead his people. We aren’t kings, mind you, but we have the same God dwelling inside us and we have no idea how long we will have to wait. Although we were there for the sermon J.D. Greear gave on Saturday night regarding waiting as “par for the course,” it’s not like we identify ourselves as one of those “faithful Biblical characters,” so it’s a little harder when taking into consideration that there is a distinct possibility that we are just flat out wrong and have no idea what we are doing. We have those Bible characters’ complete stories in hand. And while I know God has our story in hand already (and always has) this faith-growing process is blindingly hard.
The rain has stopped now. I always imagine the plants after rain stretching out their leaves and branches, sighing with relief from the moisture. Right now, I don’t know if I’m parched or drowning, but I’m begging God for relief, thankful for kids, family, and friends who pray.
Slow to Speak 