Torment is my new word when describing the agony that I experience in the varied (hard-to-handle) circumstances that I have been dealing with.
But tormented I've been..... especially on this subject.
I haven't seemed to reach a peace when raising the question- to home school or to public school? I've pained, and agonized, and lost countless hours of sleep trying to figure out what it is that our family will be doing in the upcoming school year.
Over and over, I've heard the Lord say "Trust me, Amber. Trust me."
"LORD!!!! What do you want me to trust you with????" Do I trust Him to give me the ability to home school? OR!?!? Do I trust Him to take care of our precious girls as I walk them down the halls of the public school system?
Torment. Verb. to worry or annoy excessively: to torment one with questions
Tonight- my dear husband spoke a harsh truth to me (and himself):
"You want to take care of them, and protect them (he motions his arms as though he was holding an armful of laundry), and you're unwilling to trust God to take care of them..... You gotta trust Him, Amber."
This lump formed in my throat; and it's yet to disappear. Trust God? With my kids....? I do. Of course I do. Don't I?
I thought that I had this, sort of, miraculous Faith. I thought that I trusted the Lord fully, and completely, and truly. Is He really asking me to trust Him with my baby girls in THAT way?!?!? IS HE really asking me to turn them over to Him.... sacrificially (so-to-speak) already????
My husband is right. I have been too afraid to trust the Lord to take take care of my (HIS) children.
Our plans our NOT our own. Our plans are basic guidelines. Not necessarily specific instructions. (Lord? That's a tough concept to grasp. If our plans aren't ours.... what's the point of planning????)
I've had clear convictions about keeping our children outside the public school system. We tried it- that one time... remember? Kindergarten. Kyla. What a disaster!!!!!!!! It was awful, and it reconfirmed my convictions to keep our kids as far away from the public system as possible- and after Kindergarten- most especially that SPECIFIC elementary school.
And now? As I type this- it seems as if I am being asked to put my kids directly into the lions den, but not JUST the public school system, that. specific. elementary. school!!!!! Really, Lord? Really? Are you sure?!??!
Am I sure?? Am I hearing Him correctly? *Sigh* It just doesn't sound right.... I would have peace wouldn't I? I would be able to breath, wouldn't I?
I've prayed. And I've cried (and cried, and cried, and cried). What, Lord? Please- please give me clarity. What do I do?
One thing that seems to be consistent, though? I'm not "geared" to home school. That is, I'm not gifted in the department of juggling school and parenting and house work and marriage.... I've not all together given up on the hope that God can merge me into a "home school mom" one day. I'm not there, now- which is where I want so badly to be- but we're talking about GOD here- He can do anything. I may, one day, flourish as a "home school mom"/"master juggler". One day.... one day.... I'm crying out as I write this..... maybe one day I can do it. And be good at it. And be a blessing to my children as they bless me..... One day.
I want to trust Him fully; with everything. Not just trust Him with myself (which is the easiest), or my marriage, or my finances.... but also... with my children (the hardest).
I'm humbled and saddened that I've spent all these years in a bubble- not realizing that I haven't trusted The Lord with the most precious gift He could have possibly given me. I feel like the Rich Young Ruler may have possibly felt when Jesus asked him to sell all that he owned, give it away- and follow Him.
It would be easier for me to give away every single material possession I own that it would be for me to hand over my children...... What a blow straight to the heart.
I know He's not asking me to do anything obscure. He's simply asking me to trust Him with the thing that is the most precious to me. Easier said than done. Sadly.
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