I opened the door and saw a woman I didn’t know holding a bucket of fried chicken. “I wanted to do something,” she said. “I knew there would be people here and I knew you all would need to eat.” She handed me the food and asked me to give her condolences to my aunt and uncle, who had just lost their 10-day-old baby boy, my cousin.
One Monday evening I found myself solo parenting my three young children while my husband worked late.
“God please let tonight go smoothly…just give me strength to get through” I prayed as I stirred spaghetti noodles on the stove. During dinner, my youngest, a toddler, decided to style his hair with spaghetti while we ate…not exactly the smooth dinner I was hoping for. I decided a quick bath was in order. As I filled the tub with water and began scrubbing his rounded tummy, my preschooler came charging in, “I wanna bath, mommy!”
My five-year-old daughter had been at the neighbor’s house for a while. Should I go get her? I wondered. Our neighbors at that time were a precious Korean family, and I didn’t fear any harm to my daughter, but I struggled to know when she had overstayed her welcome.
I feel unarmed and unprepared to lay bare before Him. The Lord and my husband. Both of them are a bit terrifying. So instead I set out my items of accomplishment. My quick wit or loving eyes. Whatever decoy I can muster up. He doesn’t fall for it. Not Jesus at least. Not ever. He sees through the charades and applause. The poopy diapers and piles of dishes I do each day. If I’ve excelled at work or made it through the mundane.
One of the most powerful statements I’ve ever heard is, “I know.” When my life was plagued by years of chronic illness brought on by Fibromyalgia and chronic fatigue, I often felt that no one in the world understood me. Questions swirled in my mind. Why me? Why this? And when will it end?