As I turn the pages of my bible I see notes of dates and events next to verses that brought me comfort or peace in hard times. Psalm 147:3, He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” Next to that verse is written the date my grandmother died. Psalm 91:14-16, “ ‘Because he loves me,’ says the LORD, ‘I will rescue him; I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name. He will call upon me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honor him. With long life will I satisfy him and show him my salvation.’ ” The date written here corresponds to a time of painful and difficult parenting, when my autistic son was in middle school. I once spent most of a challenging year reminding myself to “Be still, and know that I am God” (Psalm 46.6).
I used this time of loneliness as an opportunity to grow in my relationship with the Lord and also myself. I spent a lot of time journaling, reading, and learning more about the person God has intended me to be. God knows our hearts the best, so why not listen to what He has to say? Looking back, I am thankful for moments like that because it made me stronger by being open-minded during difficult times.
Bible Study Tips and Tools: Old Testament
Sure, Numbers can be a little dry and Hosea can be tough to understand (he married who?!?) but staying away from the Old Testament robs you of a deeper understanding of the Lord. After all, most of the Bible is Old Testament, so at some point we’re really going to have to buck up and give it a shot.
When I was a sophomore in high school, I had this friend. We met in photography class, and then again in guitar class. Our souls were kindred spirits. Among other commonalities, we shared a love of painting. Over the course of the school year, we would show each other our paintings, and critique them accordingly. She was so much better than I was. She went on to get a scholarship, for her talent, to the local university, and still to this day, continues to have a career in painting. After I moved, we kept in touch a little bit. During one of our conversations, we were reminiscing about our crazy high school days, and I mentioned how jealous I had always been of her painting skills. She scoffed and said, “You shouldn’t have been, I was crazy. I was just painting what I saw in my head.” After an awkward laugh, I asked what she meant, and she went on to say that she had been diagnosed with a few different mental illnesses over the last few years, and was on medication. I was shocked, but didn’t show it. I told her I was proud she had the courage to get help, and humorously asked if her painting had diminished since she had begun medication. After that conversation, I began to wonder: if my brain worked like hers, would I be a stellar artist? Would I really wish that upon myself?
Recently after band practice I listened to our kids’ conversation on the car ride home. Although they are enthusiastically committed, they typically vent out their complaints: the repetition and monotony, harsh conditions, tough messages from teachers with high expectations, unclear directions, difficult personalities, evolving and unforeseen changes, lack of progress. As I listened it crossed my mind that they could actually be describing my faith walk. I’m committed but complaining about similar things, just plodding along, uncomfortable, frustrated, discouraged by the cares of this world. There are seasons where this is generally the norm more than the exception. God never promised we would live pain-free.
Seasons of Change
My identity as a mom has indeed changed as my kids have grown. Now that I am raising 2 teenagers and one tween, I am no longer perceived as the wonder woman-mom they idolized in infancy and toddler hood. Mothering used to be sweetly characterized by singing songs in the rocking chair, playground swings and glittery art projects; now it involves chauffeuring, arguments, whining and drama.