|It's hiking season again!! I bought 6 pairs of hiking boots last week.|
The StruggleI'm trying to push through some writer's block and it's not going too well. I guess I have some pretty strong unresolved feelings about this blog and I find myself kind of loathing everything written here. Well, maybe not everything. Those early posts were so full of hope. I used to enjoy sharing my heart and I kind of miss those days.
I'm not sure if I should try and start over somewhere new and fresh or keep trying to press through. I'm really conflicted about the whole thing. I know that writing gives me a lot of clarity... My foggy confused brain could use some clarity for sure. Should I be writing a blog, or just a paper journal? Should I be sharing the failures and pain of our struggles with our adopted children, or should we be keeping it all private and putting on our "everything-is-just-fine-&-dandy" face? Do I have anything to offer anyone else who might be in the same boat navigating the same seas, or is this a total waste of time and space?
What's UpWe're battle scarred and wary. We've lost our innocence along with our youthfulness and I don't trust people as much as I'd like to. We have learned that a lot of people have a lot of opinions they would like us to make ours. We've also learned many a good lesson. We've learned who we are and who we are not. We've learned we are dependent and we've learned that we are weak. We've learned we cannot do anything to change a person or improve their lives even as we offer them everything we have. We've learned that our opinion is nothing to hold dear.
|Our stairway to heaven at the back of the house...|
Did I mention that we've learned that we are weak? I read this blog post yesterday:
Read it if you will. I totally resonated with this piece - at the same time I am grappling with it's challenging significance in my life. This is hard stuff. Really, really hard stuff. I don't like being weak. I don't like not knowing how to handle things. I'm heartbroken when my child refuses the best I have to offer. I wince at the "I told-you-so's", I shrink from people telling us we were wrong, and that we are doing it all wrong. I don't want to hear that this journey will ruin us. I shudder when they tell us we should look for a way of escape. Actually, it doesn't matter what other people are saying. at. all, but the truth is they are only telling us what we've been tempted to think already and we wish them to rather come alongside and hold up our hands.
But then again,
"The degree to which I allow myself to be weak is the degree to which I experience true, God-originated strength (crazy, wild strength)."
And maybe I'd rather experience that miracle when we are all alone and at our weakest.
Then there will be no doubting the source of our surge of ability to hang on and to keep praying.
|wildflowers from the hillsides|
He gives power to the weak,
And to those who have
He increaseth strength.
Not one who is earnest and persevering
will fail of success.
The race is not to the swift, not the battle to the strong.
The weakest saint,
as well as the strongest,
may wear the crown of immortal glory.
|The girls decided to take the kids camping up in the mountains. Nobody died.|
Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me.
But he said to me,
“My grace is sufficient for you,
for my power is made perfect in weakness.”
Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses,
so that Christ’s power may rest on me.
That is why, for Christ’s sake,
I delight in weaknesses,
For when I am weak, then I am strong.
|The little Duck is still my best little buddy.|