Just a brief background: My youngest daughter, Meg, is the pearl of my oyster, literally. She is the essence of what Satan intended for evil, God intended for good. Though she is a product of rape, she is learning that her identity is not about her conception, or surroundings, or how she looks, or even her PDD diagnosis (on the autism spectrum), but rather who she is in Christ. The things she contemplates at 12 years old are some of the very things her 39 year old mother questions. I am humbled by the gift, the treasure of her life and that God chose me to be her mother. Indeed, she is a blessing.
Who Am I Anyway?
Who Am I Anyway?
Struggling for the majority of her life to find her identity, my twelve year old, African American daughter’s tear stained face bitterly screams out, “Who am I?” Her tears reveal the sting, the hurt, the seeming injustice of her situation in which her heart attempts to mask on a daily basis. Her question; one that perhaps we, as Christians, are all trying to grasp this side of heaven. Her anger; warranted. As I choose my words carefully, in hopes that they will completely, comprehensively answer her agonizing question and not cause her to spin into another unknown variable of this life, I simply say, “You, my daughter, are the daughter of the King. You were created on purpose and for a purpose. You are not an accident. You are not a mistake. You are precious. You are valuable…” Sobs interrupt my attempt to sooth her and once again I see that she does not believe my words. “I have no value” comes her reply to my questioning eyes. My heart, broken already, silently questions God, Why are you allowing this? Don’t you care about her?”
I hold her five foot two inch body in my arms, running my fingers through her curls, kissing her cheeks a million times over, and hold her close to my heart. She quiets. Her tears stop. But the question remains and I have no idea how to answer it. Anger starting to take root in my heart, I fire question after question at God, not waiting for an answer, not thinking before speaking, and certainly showing no respect for the God I claim to love and live for. “God, why are you allowing this? Hasn’t she been through enough already? Are you trying to teach her something? Are you trying to teach me something? Is this a punishment? Where is your justice? Where is your grace? Where are you? I hate this; this constant anguish, this burden that stands constantly before me. Where is that yoke of yours? You know, the one you said was easy? And then I stop. And I hear ever so clearly, “Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden light”. (Matthew 11:28-30)
“Take my yoke upon you and learn from me.” I pause to contemplate what my role is in this command. Yoke, according to The Complete Word Study Dictionary, is “the coupling of any two things together; a beam of balance which unites two scales”. Think about that for a moment. Christ walking step by step with us, sharing the insurmountable weight on our shoulders. He is with me for the long haul, united, not missing the smallest detail. “Learn from me”…understand me, know me, my heart, motives, and desires for you, for this world. This phrase denotes “instruction concerning the facts and plan of salvation. In this sense it means to learn with a moral bearing and responsibility; to know more fully.”
United with Him, I learn that His ways are not my ways, His thought are not my thoughts. His idea of rest is not my idea of rest. Rest, in this sense, is not the removing of hardship, rather it is the assurance in His promise—the promise for redemption, the promise that His watchful eye is always on me, the promise that what He began in me, in Meg—in you--He will complete, and the promise that all things work together for the good of those who love and trust Him. The promise that He came to give life and life to the full and the promise, perhaps my most favorite, that He will never leave me nor forsake me. What Satan intends for evil, God intends for good. When we grasp this, even a little, we can find peace that surpasses all our human understanding and find the faith to believe that our trials can and will have “spiritual productivity and purpose”. It is here that I find rest. Admittedly, I do not believe we will see all our trials’ spiritual purpose this side of heaven, but I do know they are not invalid or without purpose.
Inhaling the precious words Christ so readily answered my cries of anguish for my daughter; I fall to my knees, embarrassed by my lack of faith once again and completely humbled by His care and grace for me and my daughter. It was here, on my kitchen floor, He said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, Karyn. My power is made perfect in weakness." (2 Corinthians 12:9) Sufficient grace. Enough grace. Abundant grace…Covering my face with my hands, I allow myself to sob a prayer of gratitude for His love and devotion to me—this sinful, often prodigal daughter of His.
“He pours out His grace abundantly along with faith and love that are in Christ Jesus” (1 Timothy 1:14). He pours out more than enough grace to keep us covered, enough faith for us to trust Him, and enough love to never let us go!
We will face trials of all kinds in this life. The Christian life is not an easy one. Admittedly, I forget that at times, like yesterday when I angrily questioned God, when I accused Him of not caring. My faith is frail at times. I must intentionally put on the armor of faith; protect my heart and what I love so dearly from the poisonous doubts the world repeatedly fires at us. I do not want a spirit of timidity, but one of courage. I do not want to be cowardly in my faith, but courageous, zealous even!
My daughter looks at her predominately Caucasian area and family and wonders, “Is this where I belong? Though her perspective is outwardly focused, looking immediately at her skin color in relation to those around her, we, too, wonder, “Is this where I belong?” Most assuredly it is. For she—we--were created for such a time as this. So I pull Meg to my lap and whisper, “It is not about what you do or how you look, it is about who you say you are; who you choose to live for. When you make that choice, all the rest will fall into place. Who will you live for, Meg?” Her dark solemn eyes look deep into mine as she replies, “God, who else?” I bite my quivering lower lip, attempting to stifle the tears welling deep from within. What I am still attempting to learn at 39, she is just beginning to question at 12. This life is a long, bumpy road. It is my hope to be an example to her, to always be honest, to allow her to see me question and even doubt God, but then also allow her to see that God does answer, that God does have a purpose and a plan for those who love Him.
I hold her five foot two inch body in my arms, running my fingers through her curls, kissing her cheeks a million times over, and hold her close to my heart. She quiets. Her tears stop. But the question remains and I have no idea how to answer it. Anger starting to take root in my heart, I fire question after question at God, not waiting for an answer, not thinking before speaking, and certainly showing no respect for the God I claim to love and live for. “God, why are you allowing this? Hasn’t she been through enough already? Are you trying to teach her something? Are you trying to teach me something? Is this a punishment? Where is your justice? Where is your grace? Where are you? I hate this; this constant anguish, this burden that stands constantly before me. Where is that yoke of yours? You know, the one you said was easy? And then I stop. And I hear ever so clearly, “Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden light”. (Matthew 11:28-30)
“Take my yoke upon you and learn from me.” I pause to contemplate what my role is in this command. Yoke, according to The Complete Word Study Dictionary, is “the coupling of any two things together; a beam of balance which unites two scales”. Think about that for a moment. Christ walking step by step with us, sharing the insurmountable weight on our shoulders. He is with me for the long haul, united, not missing the smallest detail. “Learn from me”…understand me, know me, my heart, motives, and desires for you, for this world. This phrase denotes “instruction concerning the facts and plan of salvation. In this sense it means to learn with a moral bearing and responsibility; to know more fully.”
United with Him, I learn that His ways are not my ways, His thought are not my thoughts. His idea of rest is not my idea of rest. Rest, in this sense, is not the removing of hardship, rather it is the assurance in His promise—the promise for redemption, the promise that His watchful eye is always on me, the promise that what He began in me, in Meg—in you--He will complete, and the promise that all things work together for the good of those who love and trust Him. The promise that He came to give life and life to the full and the promise, perhaps my most favorite, that He will never leave me nor forsake me. What Satan intends for evil, God intends for good. When we grasp this, even a little, we can find peace that surpasses all our human understanding and find the faith to believe that our trials can and will have “spiritual productivity and purpose”. It is here that I find rest. Admittedly, I do not believe we will see all our trials’ spiritual purpose this side of heaven, but I do know they are not invalid or without purpose.
Inhaling the precious words Christ so readily answered my cries of anguish for my daughter; I fall to my knees, embarrassed by my lack of faith once again and completely humbled by His care and grace for me and my daughter. It was here, on my kitchen floor, He said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, Karyn. My power is made perfect in weakness." (2 Corinthians 12:9) Sufficient grace. Enough grace. Abundant grace…Covering my face with my hands, I allow myself to sob a prayer of gratitude for His love and devotion to me—this sinful, often prodigal daughter of His.
“He pours out His grace abundantly along with faith and love that are in Christ Jesus” (1 Timothy 1:14). He pours out more than enough grace to keep us covered, enough faith for us to trust Him, and enough love to never let us go!
We will face trials of all kinds in this life. The Christian life is not an easy one. Admittedly, I forget that at times, like yesterday when I angrily questioned God, when I accused Him of not caring. My faith is frail at times. I must intentionally put on the armor of faith; protect my heart and what I love so dearly from the poisonous doubts the world repeatedly fires at us. I do not want a spirit of timidity, but one of courage. I do not want to be cowardly in my faith, but courageous, zealous even!
My daughter looks at her predominately Caucasian area and family and wonders, “Is this where I belong? Though her perspective is outwardly focused, looking immediately at her skin color in relation to those around her, we, too, wonder, “Is this where I belong?” Most assuredly it is. For she—we--were created for such a time as this. So I pull Meg to my lap and whisper, “It is not about what you do or how you look, it is about who you say you are; who you choose to live for. When you make that choice, all the rest will fall into place. Who will you live for, Meg?” Her dark solemn eyes look deep into mine as she replies, “God, who else?” I bite my quivering lower lip, attempting to stifle the tears welling deep from within. What I am still attempting to learn at 39, she is just beginning to question at 12. This life is a long, bumpy road. It is my hope to be an example to her, to always be honest, to allow her to see me question and even doubt God, but then also allow her to see that God does answer, that God does have a purpose and a plan for those who love Him.
1 comment:
Thanks for sharing, dear! Please let Meg know that MANY people who haven't had near the challenges she has struggled with share her feelings. It's very common to human beings to have those feelings. That's why God tells us he loves us so much in scripture. That's why he sent his Son! He loved us so much that he helped us where we were powerless to help ourselves.
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