Wait! Just Wait!

I think I learn a lesson, and then I get it again. Maybe one day it will stick.

Week before last was children's camp. I had at one time volunteered to be a counselor, but they had all they needed. An art teacher was going to be doing a Painting with a Twist class with the girls, but she needed some assistance. This is the job for which I was recruited.  I could go out to camp daily but not have to spend the night. In light of how tired I got that week, it was a good thing I was not a counselor.

On our last day, one sweet girl was asking for direction. They were instructed to paint the background  and then paint the cross in the center. Details could be added to both later. When this girl was done with the background, she asked if she could move on to the cross. I suggested she wait a few minutes to allow for the paint on the edges of the cross to dry, so that the paints would not smear. Poor sweet girl! She could not just wait. She kept touching up the background, which did not allow it to dry in a timely fashion. I finally gave her the ok to paint the cross, recommending that she start in the area that had no paint yet, before doing the edges. She did that and it turned out fine. Unfortunately then, she wanted to add light details to the dark background. The paint was so thick that it had not dried. Everytime she went to add a detail, the paints would smear. She came to the point of tears. I tried to comfort her and said it might be better when it dried. After she left, I proceeded to add the detail to the background and outline the cross, under the direction of the art teacher who was there.

Not every painting turned out like every girl hoped, and sometimes they had to change their minds about what they were going to do with their pictures. This little girl reminded me of how often I try to do stuff to just stay busy, when God just wants me to wait. He is working in the midst of my waiting, even if it is just to dry the paint. Not until I stop doing and wait can He add the beautiful details.

The little girl came back to get her painting and was so excited to see it finished. Maybe if I learn to wait, I will get to see some of the beautiful details too.

Ripping the Seams

I have recently picked up sewing as a hobby. Well, it is not completely a hobby, in that it is not just for fun. I have made dresses for the girls for our family vacation in two weeks. I saw some girls at church in dresses and thought, "I can do that." Why I thought that, I have no idea. It has been years since I have even touched a sewing machine. 

Then I was on my way to a Dollar Tree when I saw that Hancock's Fabrics was having a sale. I went in and found all I was hoping to find and more. I even found a pattern, which turned out to be more complicated than the dresses I saw at church, but still "easy." I asked a friend if I could borrow her sewing machine. Since she teaches home economics, she had access to a machine that the school was actually giving away. With my material and my machine, I sat down to make the dresses. Unfortunately, reading the pattern was like trying to read Greek, so I set out to figure it out on my own. 

When I was growing up, I would design clothes by drawing or wrapping scraps of fabric around my Barbies. Now, actually trying to put these pieces of fabric together was more challenging. I knew how I wanted to put them together, but I did not do them in the best order on Mariama's dresses. Sometimes I had pieces sewn together already that needed ruffles. I wished I had done them differently. I learned from my mistakes and did better on Lydia-Ann's. 

My most trusted tool during this time was my seam ripper. When the material was wrinkled underneath, I ripped the seam. When I sewed it higher than I wanted, I ripped the seam. When I caught the hem of the dress in the ruffle attachment, I ripped the seam. When things did not look quite right, I ripped the seam and started again. Now the dresses are done. They still are not perfect. There are some flaws. 

The dresses are a reflection of me. There have been times that I really messed up,and God had to rip my seams. My "seams" are better than they were, but I still have flaws. Just like I did not want to give up on those dresses, thankfully, God does not give up on me. 

This last week and a half since my clear PETscan and status of remission, I should have been rejoicing. However, an element of survivor guilt has crept in. I think of my friend, who is watching her mother suffer from brain tumors that began with breast cancer.  I think of the family of my husband's good friend, who just passed away recently from colon cancer. I think of the young lady at church who is planning her wedding without her mother, who passed away a few months ago from breast cancer. I think of the sweet family who has been watching their little boy fight cancer for the last several years and just received some very hard news.  I think of the man at church raising two girls alone, because his wife passed away from cancer a year and a half ago.  I have been so encouraged throughout this last year by other survivors, but now I feel guilty being one.  

The oldest daughter of the man raising two girls has encouraged me that God is not done with me yet. I pray that it is for ministry still left to be done, but I am sure that it is true in the work needed to be done within me. I am still in need of refining and need the Holy Spirit daily. I still have some seams to be ripped and resewn.  God is making something beautiful of this mess called me. 

Purify my Heart

Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God. 

Matthew 5:8

This year has given me opportunities to learn things as God revealed them directly to me from His Word and revealed through my children. William has been such a vessel this year. 

One of William's teachers just adored him from the very beginning. (As his mom, I adore him, but others may see him differently.) As time went by, she and her husband shared that William's uniqueness comes from his pure heart. What a precious gift and joy he is to be around as a result! 

Now, William is not perfect. He makes bad choices and can be a knucklehead about things. He forgets things and has trouble interacting with others.  He does not always get jokes that pertain to the culture, because of our living overseas. However he has a heart of gold, even as he wades into the teenage years. 

William came to salvation at an early age. I accepted Jesus as my Savior at an early age, though not as early as he did. I struggled as I grew over whether I was really saved and rededicated my life several times, just to be sure. William has had times this year that he felt he needed to rededicate his life to the Lord. How can one with a pure heart need to rededicate? 

These moments have opened up the door to talk about the two sides of salvation, justification and sanctification. Justification happens when we first realize we are sinners unable to live up to God's standard of holiness and accept the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross to bridge the gap between us and God, making Jesus Lord over our lives. Though I wish that instantly transformed us into perfect people, it does not. 

Sanctification is the process of us being made to be more like Christ as work out that salvation and what it looks like to live as Christ, usually through the trials of this world.  How I wish someone had really been able to explain that to me when I was his age, but then maybe they did andI just did not understand.

We have talked several times this year about what God might really be saying to him. He is the only one who can truly know about where his heart is with God, but others around him, Rich and I, his teacher, see fruit of the Spirit in him. Maybe rather than needing to be saved, it is God working to refine him. What could he be concerned about in his life if he is so "pure in heart"? He worried that his video games were taking God's place in his heart.  Wow, convicting to even be that sensitive. What do I let take focus in my heart? Am I that burdened by it? We have talked about the conviction we feel actually being an example of His presence in our hearts, because without His presence, we would not feel that same level of conviction. 

Purify my heart, Lord, make me more like You.