Last summer, my husband and I attended a marriage event at our church. As I was getting dressed, I realized I hadn’t taken into consideration the undergarments my new dress would require. Laughing, I instructed my husband to use one of my hair clips and clip my bra straps at the center of my shoulder blades. I was certain it would work! Jeff disagreed. He mentioned my animated personality and the effect that has on my arms and hands. I dismissed his remarks until the middle of our evening when the speaker said something funny. My arms and hands did exactly what Jeff said they would do, and it happened. POP! The straps snapped loudly back into their natural position while the clip went flying across tables behind us! (It’s been a year ladies, and my man and I are still laughing over that one!)
Even though I looked like I had it all together, my dress was moments from falling apart.
Sometimes, so am I.
Many women hesitate, even resist saying three words – “I am struggling.” Reality is ugly while perfection is, well, perfect. However, much like my outfit, that “I’ve got it all together” complex is one move from snapping.
Allow me to say the three words.
I am struggling.
My children are struggling. One is battling anxiety and fear, and another with inexplicable, deep worry. For both of them, it is very real. It is new to us, and not at all an accurate description of their personalities. It is scary and heart breaking. It has invaded our home and has threatened their joy, laughter, independence, sleep, and most of all, their peace.
My husband and I are walking them through this trial. We have revised the “summer plan.” We are helping them the best we know how.
Moms, what about us? What do we do when the plan derails and life throws our children curve balls? What do we do when the struggle is real? The answer isn’t just another parenting book. It isn’t calling every friend in the contact list. It isn’t hiding and attempting more perfection.
When our kids struggle, we struggle in depths we didn’t know possible. I find myself awake at all hours, praying. I retreat to my closet at any given time of day and hit my knees and cry out to God. I do what God has told me to do. I storm the gates of heaven on behalf of my children and my family.
Hebrews 4:16 tells us, “Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.”
I am confident that as I fall on my knees, whether physically or spiritually, and I go before my God, He will give me the mercy and grace I so desperately need.
Psalm 61:2-3 has been the cry of my heart. It says, “From the ends of the earth I call to you, I call as my heart grows faint; lead me to the rock that is higher than I. For you have been my refuge, a strong tower against the foe.”
I find myself whispering it throughout the day, on a grocery aisle, in the laundry room, at the pool, in the church hallways. It sums up my need perfectly and so accurately. Lead me to the Rock that is higher than I!
When David wrote Psalm 61, he was far from home. He found himself in a different place with different surroundings and different people. His heart was overwhelmed, so He called out to his God, confident He would not abandon him. Literally, a higher rock for David would have been a plain of refuge and safety.
Do you ever feel you have woken up in a different place, with different surroundings, with different people, and your heart is overwhelmed? Family trials can do that to you. It’s where I currently find myself. Like David, I cry out to God. I am face to face with another “foe,” and I need my strong tower, my refuge, and my help. The Lord has battled for me countless times, and He has never let me down. Because He has proven Himself to be my strong tower against many and all foes, I can trust that He will be so for me, for mine, now.
While I pray, plead, petition, and wait for this season to harvest fruit in the lives of my children and family, I am very aware of the turbulence within my spirit. James 1 commands us to believe and not doubt because the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind.
Recently, I told the Lord “blown” and “tossed” would be perfect adjectives for me!
In His kindness and goodness, He led me to Hebrews 6:19.
He says to me and He says to you, “We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.”
Jesus is our Hope, and our Hope is secure and immovable, anchored in God, just as a ship anchor holds firmly to the depths of the sea.
He is holding my children. He is holding me. His grip is firm and more secure than any hold I could attempt. I can rest in that, and I absolutely, in the name of Jesus, can be immovable as long as I am anchored to my God.
Struggle is certain, as is our security.
Therefore, I will continue to fall on my knees, today, tomorrow, and for years and trials to come. I will embrace the area of carpet in my closet that my knees have worn out, and I will continue to cry out, “Lead me to the Rock that is higher than I!”
The reality is none of us have it all together, but our God does, and He is all any of us need.
*If you are reading this today and you or your children are also struggling, please know you are not alone, and also, feel free to send our team an e-mail through our “Contact” page. We’d love to pray with you!
*Please feel free to comment below with your thoughts!