Christ Jesus was poured out on my behalf, sought me and paid the highest price that He could ever pay, and He gave me a home in Heaven and the riches of His love and grace... Not for anything that I have done, but because He chose to. He gave His life on the cross so that I could be redeemed. That is the most important part of my story, that is my identity, what makes me who I am- His beloved child. But does my life really reflect that?
This week, with my new schedule, I have consistently found myself drained by lunchtime, I get frustrated because the kids don't listen to me. There was one day when I leaned against the wall outside, hidden from any windows or video cameras and cried. I was holding a two-year-old in my arms (who had been escaping from me) another two-year-old had run into the kitchen (someone else told me that they would get him) I had no idea which side of the house the two three-year-olds had run off to, and the other two-year-old I had left with another Tia to wash her hands. Santiago (the one in my arms) looked at me with big eyes and stopped kicking, his little hands patted my cheeks and I leaned my head against his soft cheek. "Why aren't you obeying me?" I asked him pathetically. He didn't answer, but he also didn't hit me, (which is what he had been doing often that morning) so that was a step in the right direction.
I felt inadequate and underequipped... I felt like a failure. "I should never have kids, nor adopt, nor foster. I just can't do it, I can't be calm and patient, I'm not showing Christ. In fact, I should probably not even get married. Ever." I told myself in my frustration. (Thankfully, my ability to follow Christ doesn't come from myself but from Him who loved me and gave Himself for me.)
I realized about halfway through the week that part of my overwhelmedness came from wanting to prove that I wasn't the "stupid American who knows nothing about children" (Bolivians raise children in a different way than I am accustomed to. Especially because they have all sorts of rules at the orphanage that I wasn't ever told until I was doing it wrong.) I was trying to prove to myself and to everyone else, that I could handle the kids well, I wanted the kids to perform well so that I would look good. I was seeking my identity through my young charges. That is not only horribly unfair to the kids, but also idolatry on my part. My identity does not come through what people think of me, how my charges behave, or anything along those lines. My identity can only come from Christ. Sure, my identity could be found in myself, in what people think or in how many kids I can get to obey me at any given moment... But I will end my life with a history of being overwhelmed, stressed, constantly striving to be better than the next person. If my identity is not found in my Savior, my attitude will be more focused on glorifying myself than on glorifying my Savior. What a tragedy it would be to live my entire life building myself up, only to get to Heaven and realize that I am nothing, and I wasted valuable time when I should have been lifting up and exalting the Lord of Heaven and earth.
I keep being reminded how fleeting this life is. Sometimes the things of earth seem so tangible, and real... It can appear to be a shame to spend this life in "drudgery," to give up dreams and pursuits and exchange them for the way of Christ, that has been promised to bring trials and persecutions of various kinds. To live a life focused and intent on glorifying Christ requires a denial of self, and that doesn't feel so good to my human flesh. I love Psalm 73 as it outlines this and then the beautiful realization, (as it says in Psalm 16:6 "The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance." )
This week, with my new schedule, I have consistently found myself drained by lunchtime, I get frustrated because the kids don't listen to me. There was one day when I leaned against the wall outside, hidden from any windows or video cameras and cried. I was holding a two-year-old in my arms (who had been escaping from me) another two-year-old had run into the kitchen (someone else told me that they would get him) I had no idea which side of the house the two three-year-olds had run off to, and the other two-year-old I had left with another Tia to wash her hands. Santiago (the one in my arms) looked at me with big eyes and stopped kicking, his little hands patted my cheeks and I leaned my head against his soft cheek. "Why aren't you obeying me?" I asked him pathetically. He didn't answer, but he also didn't hit me, (which is what he had been doing often that morning) so that was a step in the right direction.
I felt inadequate and underequipped... I felt like a failure. "I should never have kids, nor adopt, nor foster. I just can't do it, I can't be calm and patient, I'm not showing Christ. In fact, I should probably not even get married. Ever." I told myself in my frustration. (Thankfully, my ability to follow Christ doesn't come from myself but from Him who loved me and gave Himself for me.)
I realized about halfway through the week that part of my overwhelmedness came from wanting to prove that I wasn't the "stupid American who knows nothing about children" (Bolivians raise children in a different way than I am accustomed to. Especially because they have all sorts of rules at the orphanage that I wasn't ever told until I was doing it wrong.) I was trying to prove to myself and to everyone else, that I could handle the kids well, I wanted the kids to perform well so that I would look good. I was seeking my identity through my young charges. That is not only horribly unfair to the kids, but also idolatry on my part. My identity does not come through what people think of me, how my charges behave, or anything along those lines. My identity can only come from Christ. Sure, my identity could be found in myself, in what people think or in how many kids I can get to obey me at any given moment... But I will end my life with a history of being overwhelmed, stressed, constantly striving to be better than the next person. If my identity is not found in my Savior, my attitude will be more focused on glorifying myself than on glorifying my Savior. What a tragedy it would be to live my entire life building myself up, only to get to Heaven and realize that I am nothing, and I wasted valuable time when I should have been lifting up and exalting the Lord of Heaven and earth.
I keep being reminded how fleeting this life is. Sometimes the things of earth seem so tangible, and real... It can appear to be a shame to spend this life in "drudgery," to give up dreams and pursuits and exchange them for the way of Christ, that has been promised to bring trials and persecutions of various kinds. To live a life focused and intent on glorifying Christ requires a denial of self, and that doesn't feel so good to my human flesh. I love Psalm 73 as it outlines this and then the beautiful realization, (as it says in Psalm 16:6 "The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance." )
"But as for me, my feet had almost stumbled, my steps had nearly slipped. For I was envious of the arrogant when I saw the prosperity of the wicked."
Psalm 73:2-3
"But when I thought how to understand this, it seemed to me a wearisome task, until I went into the sanctuary of God; then I discerned their end."
Psalm 73:16-17
"Nevertheless, I am continually with you; you hold my right hand. You guide me with your counsel, and afterward you will receive me to glory. Whom have I in heaven but you? And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. For behold, those who are far from you shall perish; you put an end to everyone who is unfaithful to you. But for me it is good to be near God; I have made the Lord God my refuge, that I may tell of all your works."
Psalm 73:23-28
In my frustration earlier this week, I forgot that God has preordained my struggles and frustrations for His glory. My attitude was not fixed on glorifying Him earlier this week, but on glorifying and "proving" myself. By the end of the week, though I realized what I was doing and tried to adjust my heart and mind, it still wasn't perfect. (And it never will be perfect.) I'd appreciate prayer that I would continue to grow in my patience and love, even when I feel ignored, undermined, and disrespected. In all my actions, I want to be glorifying Christ, but to do so I need to take my eyes off of myself and my discomfort, irritations, and how I want to be seen by other people and I need to remember that Christ is my identity. Until I know the love that Christ has for me to the core of who I am, I will be hindered in my ability to love others. The identity that comes from me, is jealous, comparative, and self-exalting. In exchange, the identity that comes from Christ brings the love and grace of our Savior and honors HIM, the One who truly deserves honor and glory. So my prayer request this week is that my identity would be found, and firmly rooted, in the One in whom I live and move and have my being.
Yesterday at the grocery store I picked up some headbands for the girls, apparently, all the kids took that to mean that I take requests. (I guess Fabiola had asked me for headbands at some point and I either forgot about it, or it was filed away subconsciously.) So I had a crowd of kids at my window, "Tia, you're going to buy me a ring!" "Tia, you're going to buy me a Capitan America costume!" "Tia, you're going to buy me a "Let it Go" crown." (She never says Frozen, just the name of the song, in Spanish it is actually 'Libre Soy' but 'Let it Go' is the song that she is referencing.) And the oddest request, "Tia, you're going to buy me a Santa Claus suit!" Abraham made me laugh, he remembers that I have made bread a couple times recently and shared it with them and because he's my baby, I have given him bread at various times if he knocks on my door and asks for it... (okay, so they all are my babies, but something about his smile when he asks me for something just melts my heart.) Anyway, in his obsession with bread, he looks at me with a big grin, and instead of asking for a toy, he says, "Tia, do you have any bread?" I didn't but I plan on making some today largely because of that request!
The fifth anniversary of Fundacion Esperanza was also this weekend. I hadn't been planning on going because no one had given me information, and since I don't work on weekends, I figured I wasn't going. However, Saturday morning I heard from three separate people asking where I was, if I could bring my camera and if I was coming. I had just finished telling one person that I'd be there at 10:30, and then the psychologist at our home, Nancy, called me and said that they were waiting for me, (the kids were going to dance) and if I was coming. So instead of 10:30, I showed up around 9:30. It was really fun, everyone was there and it was the first party since being here that I mingled and felt like a part of the foundation and understood what was going on instead of being isolated in an "I-don't-understand-this-culture-or-language" bubble. I also teared up at one point as I realized, yet again, that this place and these people are becoming a part of me and that I will miss them when I return home. (It probably aided in this realization because I found myself in a conversation about flight plans, when to buy my tickets, packing details, hearing about teams that have plans to come but that I won't be here to meet.)
In His love and in gratefulness for His provision, sanctification and daily grace,
Susannah
No comments:
Post a Comment