Monday, August 27, 2012

The Ugly Truth


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John 7:18  -  “He who speaks on his own does so to gain honor for himself, but he who works for the honor of the one who sent him is a man of truth; there is nothing false about him.”

Jesus just ushered in stunned silence.  Silence.  Quite possibly the greatest gift I can give to myself and others around me, my silence.  How often do my words have NOTHING to do with His honor?   Too often to even begin to estimate.

As a writer, as a daughter, sister, friend, acquaintance I tend to be dishonest – I tend to wait to tell you the truth regarding my own ugliness until God has refined and regenerated, I wait until He has washed me in the Word and I can present something, someone to you that has been sanitized by this wonderful God we serve.  I hide the ugly, dirty truth from you; why?   Because I do not want you to see the truth before He arrives on the scene but the problem that arises is how can He receive the glory if you did not see the dirty?  He doesn’t.  So, enter … the dirty.

Before I was able to write about the tremendous amount of money and energy spent on our newbie’s dental care and tell of our privilege of being part of His miracle I had spent a ridiculous amount of time complaining, alright a more suited description would be whining to God about bringing me children that in Will’s words, “have seriously jacked up mouths!”  I may even have reminded God of the cost (both in time and money) of the adoption and now this?  Not proud of that, but it is the ugly truth.  So, in actuality the real miracle is not that God orchestrated their entire dental care long before we even knew they were in need of it, but that He is able and willing to take someone so ugly and selfish and re – remind her of His unfailing love in her life.  I would probably have smote me, fortunately I am not God.

Another ugly truth that I have not given voice to anyone but BJ and that is only after double checking behind me – that sometimes I resent these two precious little girls that God has brought me.  I resent them because I am still mourning the passing of my “old family” (that is another blog in the making.)  I resent them because I know the tremendous sacrifices my oldies have made on their behalf, which is crazy because the oldies don’t resent them, so why should I?  Why?  Because I am selfish and so often so ugly on the inside, until He shows up . . . and He ALWAYS shows up.  I have feelings of resentment and frustration towards these children that did not ask to come here, they did not pick me, I picked them!  And then I feel guilty and then I resent them for my guilt, no j/k, I have not taken it quite that far.  Jesus gets a hold of me first.

Get this one – I have honestly stood beside the river near our house and watched the boaters flying by with their bikinis and beers and wished to God that I could launch a rock into the hull of that boat and sink that bad boy!  Why?  Pure jealousy, that is why.  Because they are out on the water on a beautiful day and I am trapped in my house on that beautiful day with 6, count them 6 children teaching Grammar or some useless subject like that!  Ugly?  Yes.  Truth?  Yes, again.  But, Jesus gently reminds me that these 6 and their lessons and laundry and dirty faces, these 6 are a privilege and they are the catalyst that has forged a partnership that has been welded tightly through the fires of adoption and mothering.  And this partnership, a threefold cord that cannot quickly be undone is the greatest blessing of my life.

What else?  Oh, right, my Mother’s Day post came after several hours of crying to God about my sorrowfully sad “special day.”  He listened . . . for a little while and then He mercifully ended the boo-hoo fest just right before I completely digressed into a self-absorbed, narcissistic cry-baby.  And the time that followed with Him is precious to me in more ways than I could ever hope to express on paper (or blog).

Many more, but I will not bore you with anymore details.  Prayerfully and quietly, I attempt to allow the Holy Spirit to refine me until I can claim that “he (or she) who works for the honor of the one who sent him is a man of truth.”

To this I race on.

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