I just really like words.
Lately I've had this thing with the tee shirts that spout humor and attitude.
"This girl runs on coffee and Jesus."
"Support wildlife. Raise boys."
You know, fun things like that. What can I say, it's a weakness! Typically I wear my tee shirts until they fall apart. Thankfully, many of mine are getting extremely ragged which means that I get to invest in some new fun tee shirts! My latest desire is for the shirt that says, "Chin up Princess or the crown slips."
I love that.
I've got things to overcome just like the next sister. Sometimes it seems like I fail more than I succeed. I feel like giving up the fight.
My temper is a vile thing. I sometimes have a fuse as short as my pinkie fingernail. It's something that I've struggled with greatly for the last few years. I went through some hard years of confusion, being manipulated, used, and ultimately betrayed and lied about in the community. Those are Hard Things. Especially when one is powerless to defend oneself.
One of the side effects of Hard Things can be anger at the injustice of it all. That's where I've been. It's like there's a constantly simmering pot on the back burner and when a little heat is applied, it boils over. I don't often think about my former situation, but it's always there, waiting for a smell, sight, or certain words to bring out a painful memory. Then the anger and hurt sets in. I've been broken by my failure to control my temper and my mouth. I've wept and begged God to take the anger away. I don't want my children to remember me as an angry person. I don't want to hurt their hearts and drive a wedge between us. I see the effects of this anger coming out in their attitudes and actions. We all lack patience and it is largely because of my influence. Ouch.
I've had to give up my desire for vindication. I probably won't receive it this side of heaven. It would be nice, but I can't hold my breath.
I've had to give up the right to defend myself. God told me to let the rumors fly unaddressed. He told me that He would be my defense. That was super hard. Some days I still wish I could defend myself, but I realize that it's pointless. Many will not understand my hurt until they hit Heaven's pearly gates. I have to be okay with being purposely misunderstood and falsely labeled.
God hasn't completely removed my thorns in one fell swoop as I have fervently prayed He would. Instead He's chipping away at this anger one hammer blow at a time. The process has been agonizingly slow. I want my emotional wounds to be healed RIGHT NOW! I want Him to fix this broken situation and defend me RIGHT NOW! I want to see results in my lifetime! But apparently that's not how He's chosen to work in my situation. (At least not so far. There's always hope!)
Instead, He's the steadying voice just before I lose my cool that says, "It's just spilled juice. Don't wound your girl's heart over spilled apple juice."
He's the gentle reminder that, while my baby girl has a tendency to drop and annihilate the eggs she so excitedly brings in from the chicken coop, it's just a dozen or so eggs lost. It's not the end of the world. Her heart is more important than a few eggs. Someday we will laugh about it. (Not today though. Today I must keep my mouth shut and clean up the egg mess, again.)
God reminds me that my hurt doesn't have to make me an angry person. My pain and the wrongs done to me don't have to spill over and poison the most important relationships in my life. I don't have to choose anger. This Hard Thing does not have to grow roots of self-pity and bitterness and choke out my joy and the joy of my children. I don't have to allow Satan to control me through anger.
I get so discouraged when I mess up again and again. I've cried many frustrated tears over my lack of self-control.
Then at my lowest, God bends down and lifts my chin and whispers, "Chin up Princess, or the crown slips."
And then I know.
I know that even in my failure, I'm still His. I'm still loved. That He still believes in me even if I don't. He sees potential in me. He's offering another chance to try again. Another chance to get it right. He sees each improvement no matter how small and calls it out in my heart.
He is healing me from my Hard Thing and restoring my dignity. He's helping me to be an overcomer. He's healing me one inconvenience at a time.
I AM improving. It's baby steps, but my joy and zest for life are slowly returning and as they do, it pushes out the anger and hurt little by little. I'm learning to not allow Satan to take me down the long and winding rabbit trail of anger. I'm able to enjoy my children more and more as each day goes by. I love those three little squirts more than life. I'd do anything for them. They're precious, but sometimes God needs to gently remind me that I am too. Otherwise depression threatens to overwhelm me and I just want to hide in my room for the rest of my life.
The next time you face a Hard Thing and aren't sure you can pull through, just look into His face and remember whose you are. Remember your place in the palace and lift your chin. Tell Satan, "NOT TODAY!". Put your hand in the nail scarred one and face that Hard Thing with determination! You've got the King as an escort and a crown to balance! Don't give up!
