The Hard List
How very small I am. Shortsighted, I fail to appreciate how very much this life is not about me. I try and fail time and time again to recognize and reconcile my misconceptions. I am learning lately that changing your perspective will indeed change the course of your thoughts. Simply changing perspective can change the world. Because when you start saying, "Thank you" for all that you have, you don't care about what you don't have. Something else will happen, though. You'll start to notice how much other people don't have. And maybe, just maybe, you'll do something about it. Maybe then you can make a difference.
Something I've also come to see as of late is that it's quite easy to see the good when you are looking. It's fairly easy to find things to be thankful for when times are calm. But what about the hard times? What about the things that hurt us, change our lives and who we are, steal our happiness, our innocence? Can we be thankful even in the midst of a storm?
Hope and faith act as anchors. Nobody knows what tomorrow will hold, but you have to believe it will get better, you have to have faith that God knows what he's doing, and you have to have hope that something good can happen. Then you work at it with all that you have, no matter how insignificant it may seem to you. Hope and faith are very closely related, whether we realize it or not. Hope is simply believing that something will happen; faith is believing that God will be the one to make it happen.
Thankful in the midst of a storm.
This list is one I didn't want to tackle. See, this is the hard list. This is the one that I have to really work to keep my perspective right. This is the one that hurts. And I think, for me, it is so incredibly important that it cannot be ignored. This is the list of the storms in my life. These are the storms, but with a different perspective than I'm used to having.
God, I love you, not in spite of these things, but because of them.
I love you because:
1. Through the death of those that I love, you have brought me closer to my family than I'd have ever been. You have given me compassion for those who are hurting. You have shown me truly what it means to call you "Abba", father. Daddy.
2. Through the abuse that I have suffered, you have given me an understanding of a child's suffering, and a passion to protect those who cannot protect themselves. I understand in a way that others who haven't been through this simply cannot.
3. Through the gunshots in the night and the violence in my backyard, you have shown me the effects of poverty firsthand, so that I may do something about it. I have seen the price of poverty, the desperation of a group of people who don't see a way out.
4. Through the financial hardships that have plagued us lately, you push me to the limits of my faith. You challenge me to give generously; to see what I have and not what I don't; to appreciate what Christmas means, even if we cannot afford a Christmas tree this year; to be okay with what we can't afford and thankful for what we can.
5. Through the things I don't like about myself and my body, you challenge me to see the bigger picture. To change what I can and accept the rest. Still working on that one.
6. Through the temper that I have, I have learned great self-control. I have learned that passion applies to many areas of life; passion for the great things cannot be without passion for the things that will make us angry.
7. Through my tendency for addiction and alcoholism, I have made many mistakes, and I am able to reach people who believe they are unreachable. I have compassion and understanding for those caught in the midst of an addiction that they do not have the strength or courage to beat. Through the battles I fight daily with my own addictions and near-addictions, I am taught over and over to lean on you.
8. Through the many disappointments and failed attempts as of late, you have given me faith. Hope and faith that one day, I will be a mom. One day, I will see my baby's little fingers wrap around my own. One day, all of the fears, blood, sweat, tears, embarrassment, desperation, disappointment, and money will be worth it. One day. And until then, you have shown me that I must be content, I must be okay with just You. Still working on that, too.
I know that this list is significantly shorter, but it was much harder to write. I love you, and I need you to help me find peace with who I am, in you, so that I can look past my own crap and make a difference in the lives of others. I'm going to try to let you concentrate on me and not interfere with what you are doing. In the words of the O.C. Supertones (of course), "Please forgive my obstination, so seldom on my knees. I will keep it to a whimper as the Great Physician works in me."
Something I've also come to see as of late is that it's quite easy to see the good when you are looking. It's fairly easy to find things to be thankful for when times are calm. But what about the hard times? What about the things that hurt us, change our lives and who we are, steal our happiness, our innocence? Can we be thankful even in the midst of a storm?
Hope and faith act as anchors. Nobody knows what tomorrow will hold, but you have to believe it will get better, you have to have faith that God knows what he's doing, and you have to have hope that something good can happen. Then you work at it with all that you have, no matter how insignificant it may seem to you. Hope and faith are very closely related, whether we realize it or not. Hope is simply believing that something will happen; faith is believing that God will be the one to make it happen.
Thankful in the midst of a storm.
This list is one I didn't want to tackle. See, this is the hard list. This is the one that I have to really work to keep my perspective right. This is the one that hurts. And I think, for me, it is so incredibly important that it cannot be ignored. This is the list of the storms in my life. These are the storms, but with a different perspective than I'm used to having.
God, I love you, not in spite of these things, but because of them.
I love you because:
1. Through the death of those that I love, you have brought me closer to my family than I'd have ever been. You have given me compassion for those who are hurting. You have shown me truly what it means to call you "Abba", father. Daddy.
2. Through the abuse that I have suffered, you have given me an understanding of a child's suffering, and a passion to protect those who cannot protect themselves. I understand in a way that others who haven't been through this simply cannot.
3. Through the gunshots in the night and the violence in my backyard, you have shown me the effects of poverty firsthand, so that I may do something about it. I have seen the price of poverty, the desperation of a group of people who don't see a way out.
4. Through the financial hardships that have plagued us lately, you push me to the limits of my faith. You challenge me to give generously; to see what I have and not what I don't; to appreciate what Christmas means, even if we cannot afford a Christmas tree this year; to be okay with what we can't afford and thankful for what we can.
5. Through the things I don't like about myself and my body, you challenge me to see the bigger picture. To change what I can and accept the rest. Still working on that one.
6. Through the temper that I have, I have learned great self-control. I have learned that passion applies to many areas of life; passion for the great things cannot be without passion for the things that will make us angry.
7. Through my tendency for addiction and alcoholism, I have made many mistakes, and I am able to reach people who believe they are unreachable. I have compassion and understanding for those caught in the midst of an addiction that they do not have the strength or courage to beat. Through the battles I fight daily with my own addictions and near-addictions, I am taught over and over to lean on you.
8. Through the many disappointments and failed attempts as of late, you have given me faith. Hope and faith that one day, I will be a mom. One day, I will see my baby's little fingers wrap around my own. One day, all of the fears, blood, sweat, tears, embarrassment, desperation, disappointment, and money will be worth it. One day. And until then, you have shown me that I must be content, I must be okay with just You. Still working on that, too.
I know that this list is significantly shorter, but it was much harder to write. I love you, and I need you to help me find peace with who I am, in you, so that I can look past my own crap and make a difference in the lives of others. I'm going to try to let you concentrate on me and not interfere with what you are doing. In the words of the O.C. Supertones (of course), "Please forgive my obstination, so seldom on my knees. I will keep it to a whimper as the Great Physician works in me."
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