Minor Crisis of Faith

Today is the first day of school. Not the first day of “Okay, kids time for school! Don’t forget your lunches.” and we all rush out the door school. But “Okay, kids time for school. I’m your teacher. Here we go.” school. I wish I could tell you that I woke up this morning feeling confident and peaceful. I wish I could tell you that I jumped out of bed full of energy, ready to face the day. I did jump out of bed but only to escape the chest-crushing anxiety I had woken up with hours before.

So many voices are going through my head and most of them aren’t from my happy place. Most of them boil down to “What the heck do you think you are doing, crazy lady?!?”

Maybe you can’t identify with the specifics of my current self-induced crisis of faith (in myself). Whether you homeschool or not, have kids or not, we all doubt ourselves, right? (If I am the only one, please humor me.) Can I really do this job? Will I ever find Mr. Right? What do I do now that I have retired?

Yesterday in church, while my minds was miles away, making lists and rearranging schedules, I was struck by the fact that I was putting this all on myself. I don’t know if I can do this, emphasis on the I. But the reality is whether I can do it or not really isn’t the point. I could run my school of four with military precision, produce four shining examples of stellar academics and make muffins on the side but if it is only “me” doing it, it is meaningless. On the other hand, this year could be full of failing moments, where patience is wearing thin and nothing ever gets done when it is supposed to and somehow succeed. If only…if only I will remember. Remember to be humble. Remember to grateful. Remember to breath and show us all some grace.

It is strange that as Jesus made his way to die, someone else had to carry His cross. Strange that someone had to carry His burden in order that He might carry mine. I know I trust Christ to carry the burden of my sin but do I trust Him to carry the burden of my success? Am I willing to hand it all to Him and let Him make of my life what He will?

I guess my little of crisis of faith (in myself) was really no crisis at all. Just the realization that I can’t do it, I can’t do anything outside of Christ. But then again, why would I want to?

Stargazing With Jesus

Ever have those moments when you know you are getting it wrong? When you are choosing to do the dishes instead of joining your giggling gang of offspring in front of the TV? When you don’t answer the phone call of a friend in need because you are busy having “me” time?  I am having one of those moments right now. Bailey, our oldest really needs my help with his astronomy project and I am frantically texting his dad to find out when in the sam hill he is coming home. Because…I…am…busy!

            There is no reply to my frantic plea for help so I go out to help look at the stars. Begrudgingly and without even attempting to hide my annoyance. That will teach him! And just what will it teach him? whispers that annoying goody-goody voice in the back of my head. Am I teaching him that I love him and am willing to sacrifice the little things as well as the big ones in order to help him succeed in life? I say I would jump in front of a bullet for my children and while it seems an unlike scenario, I am fairly confident that I would do so. I would lay down my life for any one of them, so why then am I unwilling to lay down ten minutes of my undivided attention?

            It is thoughts like these that remind me just how amazing Jesus is. While on earth, He didn’t just lay down His life for us. He didn’t come down and hang out on the couch for 33 years and then suddenly stand up, brush the Cheetio crumbs out of His beard and off to the cross. His was a life of daily crosses. Every diseased hand He touched. Every broken body He healed. Forget all the miracles! What about all the monotonous, boring things Christ did while He was here. Every splinter He endured working along side Joseph. Every slight He suffered at the hands of the Pharisees. Every boring conversation He patiently engaged in with the disciples. The Son of God came down to from the throne of Heaven and put up with all that and so much more for me. And not only that, but even though He is in Heaven now, surrounded by the majesty of God’s full glory, He still takes time to hear my prayers and intercede on my behalf.

            I’m standing there, in the backyard, flashlight in hand trying to find the stupid Big Dipper. And something happens. A bat flies by and scares the pants off us both. We laugh and my heart softens a bit. We hold up the star map again and keep looking. Look up. That’s all I needed to do. Not in at me and all I want. But up, at all I really need. As I stand there, gazing into Heaven, I feel my Savior looking back. Winking from behind those stars. Maybe I taught Bailey something good after all and learned something myself in the process.