The Hard Stuff

 

Part 1 - from B

We had a pretty miserable day Tuesday - S’s 8th birthday. We had celebrated on Monday since I’s back-to-school-night would conflict with a full celebration on Tuesday. From 5:00 on, we dealt with non-stop struggle, tantrum and conflict from varying combinations of our kids. I (B) wrote a detailed description of what happened - sort-of ‘anatomy of a miserable evening’, which was helpful for us to contemplate. We decided not to post it out of respect for our kids’ privacy. It includes name-calling, nasty faces, violence threatened and perpetrated, feelings of abandonment, loneliness, and fear, and crying to sleep. And not just from the kids.

Every one of us has trouble with anger sometimes (understatement). Each person’s tantrum affects everyone else. S’s are the “worst” in that they almost always result in physical confrontation.

When S throws a tantrum and the family enters tailspin mode, it’s tempting to see S as the one getting the worst of this situation. Yes, he’s getting all sorts of “negative attention” from Mama and Daddy. But really, the rest of the kids are injured deeply in this process. It’s terrifying to see your parents lose control of themselves and not know how to parent your sibling(s). E and I are raw and our failings are on display for the kids to see. We’re broken and needy and doing a horrible job of depending on God for strength and hope (it’s so easy to become hopeless in this). It brings me to the point of tears. When we finally get S & Ca to sleep, there is a preternatural stillness about the house. The impression I have is that it’s too still, as though something were wrong. But there’s nothing wrong; not really. This is just the sigh we all make together after this kind of evening. 

And Wednesday morning began the exact same way. S has this astounding capacity to sleep through the night and wake feeling the same rage he felt before he slept. It’s as though sleep is just a pause and the morning often resumes the way the evening ended.

This past weekend during another (somewhat less) difficult time I reminded E that S - with all the marvelous blessings and all the challenges - is God’s good gift to our family. He is an embodied part of the good things God has for us. This has been a theme for the two of us; that everything we receive from God - all the things we enjoy and take delight in, and all the stuff that stings and seems to hurt us - is a part of his self-glorifying plan in which he displays his majesty. Who, after all, are we to say to God what is good and what is not?

And yet Tuesday I was nearly lost in all this. God, how can this possibly be your good plan? I’m actively hurting my children with my body and my words. S is beyond comforting. Often, so is Ca. I and Co are caught in this whirlwind - both of them trying not to burden their parents further, but also having real needs for our love and attention. And what is S feeling when he sees his parents follow him into an out of control state? How can he trust such untrustworthy people? 

When E & I started Ca’s adoption journey, we knew with a deep certainty that this was God’s will for us. It was sufficiently crazy enough to look like faith and it was confirmed for us in all sorts of ways. We knew God was behind this.

And in some deep places, thanks to God’s unreasonable goodness to us, we still know this is his plan. But when we get really honest with ourselves, we realize that it makes no sense to us. How can these awful experiences be part of God’s good gift? So we’re left trusting, but with no real grounds apart from the fact that at some time in the past we knew this was God’s path for our family. 

Here’s the thing. Tuesday’s events aren’t unusual. We have some version of this nearly every day. It’s this big usually at least once a week. And when people ask me how we’re adjusting to our new family life, these kinds of episodes play in my head. How can I possibly explain what this is like? I barely have the words. 

Weeks ago we stumbled on this article by John Piper called Don't Waste Your Cancer. It is changing the way we see our lives. But even prior to reading it I had been thinking a bit about suffering. While doing so the idea occurred to me that suffering is wasted if it isn’t endured for Christ’s glory. But what did I mean by that? (Sometimes propositions arise in my thinking that I can’t at first justify. They are hypotheses that need testing before I can assent to their validity. Sometimes these thoughts are duds. This was one of the gems.) Is suffering for Christ only reserved for missionaries or martyrs? How can I endure the hardships in my life in such a way as to honor Jesus? Another idea occurred to me at this point - that suffering for Christ demanded a public acknowledgment of His presence and power through the hardship. But that wasn’t quite right. A few moments later I thought what’s required isn’t a public proclamation, but an inner worship and dependence. We must stake our souls on him. Christ isn’t glorified if we just endure hardship in a Christ-less state, then give him praise for “bringing us through it” afterward. He must be in the middle of our experience. Any public acknowledgment (and it is right that we should proclaim Jesus to all the world through our suffering) is the natural overflow of our internal devotion and dependence. 

 

1 Peter 4:19 says “Therefore let those who suffer according to God's will entrust their souls to a faithful Creator while doing good.” Peter wrote to exiled believers, some of whom no doubt were to become martyrs and others perhaps missionaries, but most of his audience would be neither. They were regular folks and Peter was counseling them how to suffer well. Peter told them to entrust their souls to the faithful God while doing good. This is just the thought I had before - cast your very soul on God while also continuing to do what is right. He will be honored in your heart and this will overflow it outward praise.

Lord, give me grace to suffer well and help me to lift my eyes from my light and momentary troubles and fix them on the weighty glory that I will one day behold and enjoy.

Part 2 - from E

Wednesday was full of yet more relational chaos. I told a friend before we adopted Ca that I was eager for ‘the hard stuff’ because it would help me depend on God more and see His goodness more. Wednesday morning I remembered that conversation and thought, “That was a stupid plan.” And yet, only 12 hours later, by God’s grace, I could look back at the day and see a panorama of God’s goodness. 

Let me recount: 

1.     When I was weeping from desperation and helplessness after an exceptionally difficult morning that followed an exceptionally difficult and exhausting evening, God used my feeling as though no friend could help to remind me that He is always present and always available.

2.     When I wept long and hard, and Ca was unnerved and started crying too, she climbed into my lap and let me comfort her as we cried together. 

3.     God made movies so that Ca could watch them and I could get some mental space to think and pray.

4.     God reminded me of Lamentations 3. I knew verses 22-23, and they were what popped to mind, but as I read the whole chapter I was completely floored by the perspective that God gives us our suffering as a good gift because He loves us. Meditating on it throughout the day has given me great perspective. 

5.     God helped me realize that while I might not know how some key folks in our lives can help, I can still ask them for help - maybe they have some ideas. 

6.     God provided not one, but two lengthy conversations with wise and experienced professionals who know our family well. I called them both, not expecting to reach them, and they both took more than 40 minutes out of their busy days to talk with me on the phone.

7.     Ca tolerated more than an hour of Mama on the phone!

8.     Through my conversations, God provided some next steps for us to pursue to make some long-term relational improvements.

9.     I contacted a friend who had offered to help “somehow” and made a specific request. God used her generous reply to grant me courage and remind me that I am not alone.

This season of life is hard. Really hard. But God doesn’t stop being faithful, even if we forget His faithfulness. And our family life will probably become less chaotic over time. But even if it doesn’t, God will still be faithful and good.