Things are happening…

In my job, there are lots of days when progress seems pretty non-existent. Although special education takes on a misconception of mostly being baby-sitters or teaching insignificant lessons that are way over students’ heads, there are moments of growth and new mercies in it every day.

I confess, much of the time I don’t see the growth. There have been many moments when in defeat I’d tell my husband, “What’s the point? He’s not going to college.” Or “Why am I wasting my time? He doesn’t care” or “He hasn’t made any progress. If that was going to be the end result, I could’ve put in way less time and effort and gotten to the same place.”

But God was gracious to lift the veil yesterday and show me all of the miraculous things happening beneath the surface. I saw progress. I saw moments where it all clicked. I saw hours of labor that had, despite my own blindness, been cultivated into something beautiful.

These moments were sacraments to my soul. There were moments that pointed me back to the glory of God in a broken, obviously broken, world.

These moments looked like…. a student traveling a route and using problem solving skills I didn’t even know he had. A teenage student who almost exclusively communicates with mumbles and grunts, joking and laughing and talking to me more than he has in the past 2 years. A student who pushes back against any kind of help asking me if we had our counseling appointment today. A student who hates school asking if he could attend our after school program on Mondays. A student with autism asking our van driver how his Christmas break was (Let’s just say this student only ever wants to talk about toys and never asks people how they are just because).

When blessings become burdens

I was able to spend some time (trying) to be still yesterday. After sitting down and wrestling with to-dos and things I wanted to accomplish, I finally relented. I was trying to be still but the only thing I wanted to think about in my “stillness” was how much I wanted to be “doing”. I jotted down all of the things that had been stealing my attention –groceries, cleaning, reaching out to people, making a gift for a friend who is expecting her 4^th child this month…

As I glanced down at my list, I felt like God gave me some clear eyes for a moment. I wrote:

“Lord, I feel weighed down by things that are meant to be blessings.”

In that moment, God spoke truth where I needed to hear it. You’re making things that I meant to be blessings into burdens.

At first I felt a little defeated. Here’s another thing I messed up. But then, I felt free. Rather than letting me continue to sit in my anxious and overwhelmed state, God spoke truth.

I tried to trace back to the root of this. When did opportunities to serve friends, and pray, and even the gift of free time become so overwhelming?

A familiar thought came to mind. I think one of the thoughts at the core of this anxiety is not wanting to waste any opportunity.

I have this vivid memory from childhood: I was at Disney World with my family –I must have been 8 or 10 years old. My dad told me, my brother, and my sister that we could each pick out a souvenir. I walked around the bright store captivated by toys, and stuffed animals, and those cheap little light sabers with Mickey Mouse on the end (you know the one!). The world was my oyster! I could choose anything! My brother and sister both quickly chose their souvenirs. But then there was me. I wandered. And looked. And pondered. And tried to decide, but just couldn’t!

In the midst of my toy deliberating, I looked up to make sure I didn’t get left behind. I could see my dad waiting at the register and giving me that “you ready yet?” look. So I quickly wandered back through some aisles and then grabbed the Mickey art set off the shelf.

I was glad with my selection but, my goodness, what a process! What was meant to be a blessing, my dad letting me pick out a Disney souvenir, turned into such a burden! I can still remember the emotions my little self was feeling… I just didn’t want to pick the wrong thing. I didn’t want to waste this opportunity of free choice.

Guess what? I think big Christina still struggles with the same thing.

I’ve graduated from picking out toys to stressing out about how to best serve a friend or spend my free time. Serving others is a blessing that the Lord lets us take part in. And free time is a gift!

The verse from Galatians 5 comes to mind, “You, my brothers and sisters, were called to be free. But do not use your freedom to indulge the flesh; rather, serve one another humbly in love.”

How fitting is this verse? It addresses this issue of using your freedom that I'm wrestle with spot on. God, like my earthly father, gives us a command with a pretty wide range of options. God tells us what NOT to use our freedom for but he leaves it up to us to figure out what to spend our freedom on, as long as it’s serving others. This is a gift! I know I keep reiterating it but that’s because it truly is a gift. God gives us the freedom to decide what to do with our freedom.

I’m trying, with God’s help, to become more free in my freedom –more free in my decision making. All of my striving to choose the right thing actually just turns into an inward-focused, indulging of my flesh. Those certainly aren’t my intentions, but that’s the result. This is the exact thing that God warns us about –you are free, just use it to be self-serving. Rather than agonizing over what to choose, I want to focus more on the heart.

So here’s my plea to be free in Christ and to use the freedom that he gives me to influence my decision making about my freedom:

Father, I praise you that I am free from sin and bondage and the pressing cares of this world. You know my heart, even my little heart back in the Disney gift shop. You know my desire to do the “right thing” and to not waste my freedom, but God, don’t let that cripple me from enjoying your gift. Allow my heart to experience the joy of serving others without being worried that I’m not doing enough. Allow my heart to experience the fullness of your presence in serving, praying, and even the down-time. Lord, help me to aim at heaven’s joy, and protect me from trying to create that on my own through experiences here on this earth. Amen.