It’s hard having my mother here while I’m recuperating from surgery. Growing up, I was a rebellious child and couldn’t wait to get out on my own. Now here I am at forty-four, being chased after and chastized again, only in my own home this time-humiliating and frustrating.
My temper has been on a low simmer since the surgery. First of all, angry that something was actually wrong with me that I had to allow another human being to cut me open and ‘fix’ that problem. Then, angrier that I wouldn’t be able to run or work out, not just for a few days, they’re talking a few months! Physical exercise is my therapy, it’s how I cope and burn off stress. The low simmer started getting a little warmer. Putting the pot on a full boil came when I had to accept having my mother come stay with me and look after my house and my child while I myself had been deemed incapable.
I like being an independent person. As much as I’m not crazy about my husband being some six hundred miles away starting a new career while Michael and I stay behind waiting for the house to sell, I know it’s a situation we can manage. We’ve done it before and survived quite well, and I knew we’d make it through this time, too. Then came the tremors and everything changed…
I’m reading Daniel right now. This morning’s chapter was about King Nebuchadnezzar’s dream of the beautiful life giving tree being chopped down and stripped, the stump chained and left alone in a field of grass. God wanted Nebuchadnezzar to acknowledge all that he had, his kingdom, his wealth, and his success had not been obtained on his own, but rather all had come from the hand of God. He wanted Nebuchadnezzar to swallow some of his pride and give proper credit and praise for all that he had been given. So God took away his kingdom, stripped him of all his power and wealth and left him to live on his own, wild, eating grass like an animal, until Nebuchadnezzar finally acknowledged God’s graciousness and repented of his pride.
I’m feeling a little like Nebuchadnezzar this morning. All the time I thought I had the strength on my own to see Michael and I through this move. You know, that ‘Been there, done that’ attitude? It certainly feels like I’ve been chopped down like that tree and stripped of all my strength, in an attempt to make me see that I cannot do all of this on my own. It is God who gives me my strength, patience, and endurance. It is God who holds together my marriage separated by so many distant miles, binding my heart to my husband’s when we’re not even able to hold each other’s hands. It is in God’s perfect timing that He will send us a buyer and provide us the means to pack up our belongings and move on to our new lives. And it is God who will heal me and restore my strength again, when He is ready.
And it is God who humbles me and allows me to let my mother take care of me while I’m not able to do so myself.