The storms of the past few days have brought back memories from when I was in the throes of homeschooling my five children. Three of those five have since graduated from high school. Those of you that are still in the middle of overwhelming days, let me encourage you. “You can make it. God knows where you are and He will give you the strength and help you need.” The following is a window into one of those overwhelming, homeschooling days and the lesson that God wanted me to learn.
In a small ravine, stretching onward lay the old dried creek bed. Past storms and rushing water had formed its meandering shape. It had been long, since water had run through its hollowed-out shell. Large rocks protruded from its bed, decaying leaves lay in ugly piles, debris was scattered throughout.
Then the storms came. Lightning streaked across the sky. Thunder reverberated through the heavens. Hour after hour the clouds poured out rain. Moisture soaked the earth, the stream bed filled. Soon the waters’ roar could be heard on the ridge above the small ravine.
My life had become like that old streambed. Without moisture, debris piled and rocks protruding. The day was full of schedules not met, math facts not remembered, writing assignments misplaced, algebraic frustrations and sibling conflicts. A budding meteorologist, for the day, was recording the dropping temperature every half hour, seemingly pushing aside school assignments as nonessentials. The stress of not being able to control this storm on the home front built. Feelings of inadequacy rained upon my soul, despair quickly followed as situation after situation spun out of control. Tears threatened. The hopelessness of it all overwhelmed. The evening meal was prepared out of duty. As the meal was eaten, the day seemed to be written off as an utter failure.
An urging invitation to walk with my husband drew me outside into the dropping temperatures. Our path took us to that once dried up stream bed which was now rushing because of last nights’ stormy torrents. Problems still overwhelmed as I stood in silence, oblivious to it all. Arms of love surrounded me and a shoulder was offered. Tears wet his coat, as within the shelter of his arms he entreated God to intervene in my life and to lift the mantle of darkness and despair. With a last gentle hug and kiss, he left me there in solitude to seek the restoration of my soul that my God had promised.
Alone, I began to see, the beauty in the waning light of day. The lacework of branches etched against the pewter sky drew my eye. As I watched the towering trees sway against the backdrop of clouds pregnant with the promise of snow, I sensed that God was speaking to me. The word “control” came to mind. I realized that the trees were not standing rigid and resistant to the rising wind, but were bending and swaying in acceptance of whatever came. Rigidity would have caused a snapping off of those trees of great strength. It was in the acceptance of the storm that the trees were able to show off the beauty and grace of their flexibility and suppleness. My eyes were then drawn to the rushing water at my feet. I watched as one by one, decaying leaves went rushing by, bits of debris and broken limbs too, were carried onward, over the jutting rocks that formed the waterfall. The deluge of water was able to remove the debris that had collected in the stream bed.
As the tears had fallen, I realized that I too, needed to let go of the decay and debris found in algebraic frustrations, the SAT Prep class that didn’t happen, and the schedules that ran amok. It was the storm that had made it possible for the creek bed to be purged. With the falling of tears, I let the frustration of the day go one by one and was then able to catch sight of the blessings that had been hidden beneath the mire of the day.
—that hug of a young boy when sensing all was not right
—the help of a teenager, as he stepped in and finished dinner
—cheerful chopping of kindling by teenaged son
—the cheering on of one twin for the other
—children’s grateful thanks for meals
Many more blessings were acknowledged as I stood at the brink of that once dried creek bed. Peace seeped into the crevices of my soul. I lifted my head once again, looking up to the only One who could restore.
There by the rushing waters, I realized again that acceptance of life’s situations, with thanksgiving, will right the world. Like the trees, I must relinquish the strangle-hold I had on my life. Rigidity would only bring the irritations to the forefront, consequently splintering my life into a myriad of despairing pieces.
Acceptance of those portions of life that show our humanity, should only lead me to lean into the wind of the Holy Spirit. In the accepting, I am able to show forth His beauty and grace as the winds of life rise and fall.
Darkness slowly fell, and as I turned toward home a prayer formed in my heart, that I could take this peace, this lesson of open-handed acceptance home to my family.
The lights of home shone out onto the storm-swept landscape and thanksgiving filled my heart for my home, my husband, my children, and the chance to learn and grow in this life.
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