My experience with physical wounds is limited (I am not referring to illness or medical conditions, but to an actual sore, an opening, a break on a person's body). When I think of wounds, my mind goes immediately to the bleeding knee of a child who was playing, and fell while running with his friends. Suddenly, the fun is over, the tears flow and the child needs his mother to embrace him, and to begin dressing and patching up the knee. The dabs of a wet, cleansing washcloth against the fresh cut and raw skin sting. The child cringes and squirms, trying to get away from the hands which are there to help and to mend, but mom has a tight grip on her baby. The disinfectant she uses stings even more. The child may keep up the struggle, or may choose to surrender. Mom is strong. But the part that the child looks forward to the most is getting the band-aid. The band-aid makes everything better. It conceals the wound. It makes it as if the owie wasn't there. Even better, if it is a colored band-aid, or one with animals, action figures or Disney princesses on it. Then, it becomes a new focus of attention, and the child cannot wait to show every willing person (and the not so willing ones) this new badge of honor.
I am discovering, in my experience with emotional wounds, that I am not that different from this little child. Oh, how I long for that band-aid. Could we just skip over the blood, the stinging, and the hurt? Why does healing have to be such a process? Ok, I got hurt, but now, can we just please cover it up and move on? Not so fast, my child, says my Heavenly Father. I have so much to show you, to teach you, to offer you in this healing process. And so, as I cringe, and squirm, and even put up a strong fight some days, with tears and complaints, the Lord keeps his tight grip. He holds me close to himself. He caresses my hair. He soothes me, as He sings over me. He reminds me that He has good things for those who wait upon Him. He tells me that is it good that one should bear the yoke in their youth. He tells me that is is good for me to seek Him. So as I wait, as I allow the Great Physician to bring healing, and as I accept that it is a slow process, I get to know him. I feel his gentle touch as He dresses my wound. I hear his voice as he whispers words of comfort and love into my ear. I get to know His voice and yearn for it more. His words take on a new and special meaning, because of my broken heart. I learn to love to just spend time with him...in those moments, I almost forget about my wound and just soak up His presence.
The Words of the prophet (most likely Jeremiah), from the Old Testament book of Lamentations, go straight to the depths of my wounded soul, and bring me great comfort and encouragement:
18 so I say, "My endurance has perished; so has my hope from the Lord."
19 Remember my affliction and my wanderings, the wormwood and the gall!
20 My soul continually remembers it and is bowed down within me.
21 But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope:
22 The Steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end;
23 they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.
24"The Lord is my portion," says my soul, "therefore I will hope in him."
25The LORD is good to those who wait for him, to the soul who seeks him.
26 It is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of the LORD.
27 It is good for a man that he bear the yoke in his youth.
28 Let him sit alone in silence when it is laid on him;
29 let him put his mouth in the dust - there may yet be hope;
30 let him give his cheek to the one who strikes, and let him be filled with insults.
31 For the Lord will not cast off forever, but though he cause grief, he will have compassion
according to the abundance of his steadfast love;
33 for he does not willingly afflict the children of men.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
F.I.S.H.
F.I.S.H stands for French Immersion SchoolHouse and is the name my husband came up with for my new home-based French school! It captures my heart for teaching French as a ministry to children...my own little school of fish! Let me share how this all came about...really, none of my doing.
Back in Decemeber, as we were trying to decide what to do with our soon-to-be-finished basement, Jake suggested we put a classroom in one corner and move our home office from upstairs to downstairs, so that I could have my teacher's desk there. All of this talk really began when we were rearranging rooms and creating a nursery upstairs for Joshua. I bought into Jake's classroom idea, still not entirely catching the vision, but trusting that the Lord was speaking through my husband.
After losing Joshua, I struggled to find motivation to pursue any kind of work. I did find it helpful to keep up with my online classes, as this helped to occupy my time, but ultimately, it was a challenge to find much purpose in anything else than what I had been gearing up for: motherhood. Any other kind of work seemed to pale in comparison to what I truly wanted to be doing...being a mom. Two things here are interesting to note. First, in the past, I have not been one to lack motivation when it comes to work. You can ask my parents who saw me through the rigorous Swiss school system, or Jake who kept telling me not to study so hard in college. You can say I'm an over-achiever. I try hard to not be one, but it's just part of my make-up. In the face of grief, however, my entire world was shaken, and I really struggled for the first time to find the motivation to accomplish much of anything. I never spent days in bed, nor isolated myself for extended periods of time (though the thoughts did cross my mind), but I did question the Lord "what am I supposed to do now?". The second interesting fact is that for many years I had a hard time imagining myself being content "just" being a mom! But, after Joshua's stillbirth, that was the ONLY thing I wanted to be. This, I believe, speaks volumes about how we, as women, are created and is quite contrary from what the world tells us. But that is another topic.
Back to the classroom. At the beginning of the summer, I found myself at a place where I said "yes, Lord. I have needed this time for my heart to heal (though healing continues to be a work in progress), and even though I don't feel quite ready, I know that you have something for me this fall that has to do with French teaching". Teaching in the public school system has not been an option for me because of my angioedema (a condition which causes periodic lip swelling and intense fatigue and loss of energy), but at home, I can create my own schedule and only take on as much as I can manage. That didn't sound so bad when I thought more about it. Plus, it would offer the income I need to continue to pay for my post-graduate coursework.
Another aspect of this whole endeavor is that I strongly believe in the importance of foreign language instruction in the early years (When I went to Switzerland last November, I purchased French books and music in preparation for immersing the little one in French from the start!). Moreover, there is a large homeschooling community in Cheyenne whose children will need a foreign language requirement for college. God showed me this need and has been opening doors and placing people and resources in my lap ever since.
When I told God "yes" (more like a reluctant "ooo-kaaay"), I also told him that I didn't have much emotional energy to pour into this. Today, I praise God for his grace. Over the summer, in the midst of my jet-setter schedule, He has graciously and gently been ushering me along this process of promoting and putting together a week-long French camp, and is now continuing to guide my planning for Fall classes. The camp (which took place last week) was a great success! We (myself and my wonderful assistant and veteran French teacher, Sue) had 20 kids ages 6-10! Though they about drained me of a year's worth of energy, we had a great time and the kids learned a lot. God continues to confirm that this is of His hand. He is so faithful!
So here I am, a few weeks away from my grand debut of holding my first class in our own home, and I'm excited! To say there aren't times where I still come before God and say "yes, this is good, but it's not REALLY what I want to be doing this year" would be a lie. But on this grieving journey, He continues to remind me of His love and of His great plan which goes beyond what I can see and comprehend. I thank Him for my amazing husband who believes in me and encouraged me to pursue what I didn't think I could do. I thank the Lord for the little "fish" he has provided, and for the opportunity to help shape their minds and show them God's love through the vehicle of French!
Back in Decemeber, as we were trying to decide what to do with our soon-to-be-finished basement, Jake suggested we put a classroom in one corner and move our home office from upstairs to downstairs, so that I could have my teacher's desk there. All of this talk really began when we were rearranging rooms and creating a nursery upstairs for Joshua. I bought into Jake's classroom idea, still not entirely catching the vision, but trusting that the Lord was speaking through my husband.
After losing Joshua, I struggled to find motivation to pursue any kind of work. I did find it helpful to keep up with my online classes, as this helped to occupy my time, but ultimately, it was a challenge to find much purpose in anything else than what I had been gearing up for: motherhood. Any other kind of work seemed to pale in comparison to what I truly wanted to be doing...being a mom. Two things here are interesting to note. First, in the past, I have not been one to lack motivation when it comes to work. You can ask my parents who saw me through the rigorous Swiss school system, or Jake who kept telling me not to study so hard in college. You can say I'm an over-achiever. I try hard to not be one, but it's just part of my make-up. In the face of grief, however, my entire world was shaken, and I really struggled for the first time to find the motivation to accomplish much of anything. I never spent days in bed, nor isolated myself for extended periods of time (though the thoughts did cross my mind), but I did question the Lord "what am I supposed to do now?". The second interesting fact is that for many years I had a hard time imagining myself being content "just" being a mom! But, after Joshua's stillbirth, that was the ONLY thing I wanted to be. This, I believe, speaks volumes about how we, as women, are created and is quite contrary from what the world tells us. But that is another topic.
Back to the classroom. At the beginning of the summer, I found myself at a place where I said "yes, Lord. I have needed this time for my heart to heal (though healing continues to be a work in progress), and even though I don't feel quite ready, I know that you have something for me this fall that has to do with French teaching". Teaching in the public school system has not been an option for me because of my angioedema (a condition which causes periodic lip swelling and intense fatigue and loss of energy), but at home, I can create my own schedule and only take on as much as I can manage. That didn't sound so bad when I thought more about it. Plus, it would offer the income I need to continue to pay for my post-graduate coursework.
Another aspect of this whole endeavor is that I strongly believe in the importance of foreign language instruction in the early years (When I went to Switzerland last November, I purchased French books and music in preparation for immersing the little one in French from the start!). Moreover, there is a large homeschooling community in Cheyenne whose children will need a foreign language requirement for college. God showed me this need and has been opening doors and placing people and resources in my lap ever since.
When I told God "yes" (more like a reluctant "ooo-kaaay"), I also told him that I didn't have much emotional energy to pour into this. Today, I praise God for his grace. Over the summer, in the midst of my jet-setter schedule, He has graciously and gently been ushering me along this process of promoting and putting together a week-long French camp, and is now continuing to guide my planning for Fall classes. The camp (which took place last week) was a great success! We (myself and my wonderful assistant and veteran French teacher, Sue) had 20 kids ages 6-10! Though they about drained me of a year's worth of energy, we had a great time and the kids learned a lot. God continues to confirm that this is of His hand. He is so faithful!
So here I am, a few weeks away from my grand debut of holding my first class in our own home, and I'm excited! To say there aren't times where I still come before God and say "yes, this is good, but it's not REALLY what I want to be doing this year" would be a lie. But on this grieving journey, He continues to remind me of His love and of His great plan which goes beyond what I can see and comprehend. I thank Him for my amazing husband who believes in me and encouraged me to pursue what I didn't think I could do. I thank the Lord for the little "fish" he has provided, and for the opportunity to help shape their minds and show them God's love through the vehicle of French!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
