When a hallelujah is inappropriate

I read Amy Sullivan's most recent blog (click on her name) and read that someone wrote about not wanting to read about so many Kumbaya moments on blog after blog (I have thought the same thing, but I didn't write it).

      There are times when life doesn't promote joy, a hallelujah and thankfulness in the initial reaction. When my brother shared the sad news of my Papaw's suicide let's just say it took awhile to give the pain to God. Life just isn't always full of profound, deep lessons. Sometimes just breathing is an act of faith and praise to God. Yes, God is always with us, but it isn't a sin to write about everyday occurrences that are not "spiritual" in and of themselves.

 Disclaimer: I am in no way condemning giving God glory, praise or the like. He so deserves it, however, God is also the one whose son wept over Lazarus even though he knew he could and would raise him from the dead. Jesus wasn't like "Now he is heaven and not in pain. Just trust God and things will get better soon."

 Sometimes a hallelujah is inappropriate.

Yes, the above has been said by that good intention 

person whose good intentions were no good 

at all. 

When we give someone this attitude especially in the beginning of their loss, struggle or other trial it is downright cruel. Sometimes people are just insensitive and dismiss your hurt so they don't have to feel the pain with you. Or they want to help you get over it sooner. Ya know "fix" it.

However, it is God who says his power is made perfect in our weakness which means that when we try to push someone out of their weakness, our action could be communicating that God is powerless to work in us. That we should only suffer in the timing and terms of someone else.

 

 Not okay. Ever.

My point? Even if your blog is to encourage others in Christ, it is okay to be honest about how hard it is to follow God sometimes. This is just as encouraging especially if what your writing is not hopeless, just honest about the struggle. I read a blog that talked about the person wishing the testing and trials would end. The pain in their words made me feel closer to God because there are times when no matter how faithful you are, the trials seem to keep coming almost on top of each other. Even Paul asked God three times to take the thorn (i.e. struggle, weakness, etc.) to be removed. I don't know if God ever removed it. It seems in scripture that it never was.

In the midst of hardships, we need to give each other respect and grace as we grieve and work out our feelings and thoughts.

Again, oh, again.

The gist? 5 minutes of no editing, raw writing. One word. 5 minutes. Click here to join.
Word: Again
Go!

My boys both wanted Hulk literally coming out of their cake. Here's my best attempt at that (fondant for hulk was used).

Again, oh again I am celebrating their aging. Their yearly movement toward independence from me. Celebrating? Well, yes, and no. I feel my self push and pull in sync. I can't let go, but again, I have to...eventually. 

I hold him and he wraps his sweet monkey legs around my waist and plays with my hair. These moments will end someday. I tell myself to savor it, but I know it is coming. It is normal. It is life. I tell my reality to shoosh it. 

3 and 5 are glorious ages. Silly, amazing, precious even profound.  And everyone tells you it goes by fast and they are right and I wonder why they feel the need to tell me that. Maybe they want to spare me from the pain they know is coming. The pain of change and letting go of a part of life that you want to relive...AGAIN and AGAIN.

I do cherish

Linking up today with FMF...go here. Five minutes to write unabashedly. The Prompt?
Cherished. GO...

I haven't felt cherished by many in my life, but he does. He cherishes me. I saw it last night. He has a headache and feels lousy and he still helped me wrap the cake layers that will go into the freezer until I decorate them today. We cherish our little boys and want them to have a fun birthday complete with a delicious cake (come back later to see pictures).

I am cherished...enough so that when it really matters, he shows me. Sometimes it is in the way he worries about me. Sometimes it is in the coffee he so lovely made for me to resemble the closest version I have ever tasted to Starbucks!

I need to practice the art of cherishing him more...not just when he is cherishing me, but because he is someone I do cherish.