While riding in the car the other day, Jenna commented about "old fashioned" names.  She said something like: "Older people are named different names.  You don't hear those names anymore.  You know, like the name Lisa.  I don't know anyone my age who's named Lisa." 

 

I tried to explain how there are a lot of "old fashioned" names that are back in style, like Emma and Hannah.  She agreed about those names.

 

But not about Lisa.

 

Move over Pearl, Eunice, and Donna.  (Donna was Sarah's contribution to the conversation)  I have landed on the old fashioned list, and apparently have no hope of hearing my name called on the playgrounds of our land any time soon.

Jonah's heart surgery went very well.  The procedure went well, and his little body responded as well as they could have hoped.  We are very very grateful!

 

The most emotional thing about the day for me was watching his mom.  To all you dads out there, I know you feel things deeply. 

 

But don't mess with a mama and her children. 

 

The surgery took place at the Children's Hospital.  As I sat in that waiting room today, and watched so many little ones who were paralyzed, blind, mentally challenged, dealing with cancer, etc come in and out of those doors, it struck me how the words "Children's Hospital"  carried so much emotional impact.  Those two words shouldn't go together.  Children shouldn't need hospitals.  Praise God there are people and places that help sick children, but how sad that there are so many sick children in the world.   May God bless those children in ways only they deserve to be blessed.  May God bless their mamas and daddies as well.

 

Jonah will be in the hospital for several more days.  Pray for his recovery, for his parents, and the logistics of still trying to care for their 2 year old daughter, and 12 year old son on top of this.   

 

And, if you think about it, pray for all of the children who pass through the doors of a children's hospital.

So, Bart and I had our 17th anniversary this past week. The other night, as I was doing my usual 1am meandering around the bedroom, I looked over at him while he was sleeping.  The thought struck me that I've known him for half of my life. 

 

I hope I will get to keeping knowing him for the rest of my life. 

 

For some reason, he seems to like me.  I'm grateful for that.   I'm not an easy one to like, a lot of the time.  For some reason, Bart has an unnatural tenacity about him when it comes to liking me.  Call it whatever you will.  (ignorance to what he could have?  diminished mental capacity?  being a glutton for punishment? )

 

Whatever the reason, I'm grateful.   I hope he keeps being ignorant, or challenged mentally, or one who enjoys pain... at least until I get sent to the Great Principal's Office in the Sky, anyway.  At that point, he will be free to wisen up and find himself a wife who cooks, and doesn't furrow her brow  and roll her eyes so much.  Until then, Bart, thanks for the best years of my life.

Our church has a Family Sunday School program in the summers.   (to give a break to the awesome folks who teach our kids during the year)  We come as families, and usually there is a teaching time and then a time where we answer questions as our own small group.  The subject this year is wisdom.  Yesterday, the teacher talked to us about seeking wisdom, guarding our hearts, keeping focused on the right things, etc.  Also, our pastor preached in Jonah 1 yesterday, and the focus of the sermon was about rebellion and its consequences.  It was cool to see how the Sunday school lesson and the sermon all tied together.

 

We were talking more about all of it at lunch yesterday.  I was struck by how everything we were asking the girls still applied to me, as a grown-up.   We talked about things like "garbage in, garbage out,"  and about how rebellion manifests itself in our lives.  Most often, we don't just wake-up and decide to rebel, out of the blue.  It can be progressive, subtle, and present itself even through things and people we love.

 

I got to thinking about the progression of thought in my own life.  When an unlovely thought enters my mind,  I'm becoming more and more aware of how I must consciously fight the progression of that thought into sin.  If I feel jealous, it doesn't take much indulgence for that thought to hold me captive.  If I feel angry or hurt, those feelings may not be sin in themselves, but it only takes a few times of living in that feeling for it to move into sinful thoughts...and eventually behaviors. 

 

My kids, unfortunately, won't witness many times when I make right decisions regarding my struggle with sin.  Hopefully, though, what they will see is someone who's on a journey, just like they are.  I was telling them that rebellion doesn't always look as dramatic as Jonah's rebellion was.  Rebellion looks like lying to your parents.  Rebellion looks like gossip.  Rebellion looks like sassing your parents.  Rebellion looks like yelling at your kids, or slandering people in the church who've hurt you.

 

I see my oldest daughter becoming more intrigued by how one's spiritual life meshes with one's everyday life.  She's watching me, questioning me, calling me on behavior which is hypocritical.  It's no fun to have a mirror held to your life. 

 

But, it's no fun to be a hypocrite, either. 

 

God is working, and I don't always like it.  But, the alternative is pretty grim to me.  I don't want to stay in my sin.  I don't want to define what being a Christian looks like, in an attempt to be more comfortable on this earth.  That's God's job.  My jobs are to delight in Him, trust Him, learn more about Him, obey Him, and welcome His will.

I've felt listless lately.  No matter where I turn for comfort in my life, there seems to be just more uneasiness in my spirit.  Even God's word has made me feel agitated, unsatisfied...even angry.

 

I've asked if this is a test.  I've asked for forgiveness.  I've asked for comfort from the struggle.  I've asked for God to show Himself as a form of relief. 

 

He chose silence, it seems, for part of this time.   A friend of mine shared a similar struggle she had heard about, and said that maybe God is showing me about faith.  Faith grows through fear, and loneliness, and struggle.  When God is silent, He is still working.  He is working on growing my faith, and my character, by allowing me to struggle with trusting through silence, and obeying when there is no evidence of fruit that will come from it. 

 

Then, for part of this time, the answers I HAVE heard, are answers that I don't WANT to hear.   As I've talked to God about things that have been hard to deal with, the conviction I have felt has been about my response to the offenses, and not the offenses themselves.   As I focus on the state of my heart, I've been struck by how little I think about the state of others' hearts.  There are always reasons behind hurtful behaviors and actions.  Frankly, I'd rather just nurse my own wounds than care about the wounds of the wounders.

 

It seems like healing comes when I trust God with my heart, and then obey Him by caring about others' hearts.    Both are good, but neither are complete alone.  Trusting God with my heart is most important.  Expressing my trust by loving others is the second most important thing.  But, I must do both in order to experience the deepest joy in Christ.   

 

I feel like nothing but a milk drinker lately.  It seems like after 25 years of knowing God, I should have more history of trusting God and being selfless.  There seems to be so much more growing and maturing that needs to take place in my heart.  More often than not, I wonder if God is disappointed with me....mainly because I am so disappointed with me.   I know in my head that is utterly unscriptural, and goes against the character of God.   

 

But, sometimes, my heart needs a good talkin to when it comes to the Truth.