What wouldn't I give?

We had a guest speaker last night at church.

Towards the end of the service he asked anyone that had a problem and knew God was going to fix it, to raise their hand. I could have raised my hand, but I didn't.

Some of the only things I know about God is that I don't understand Him, His decisions sometimes hurt, and my opinion on the matters doesn't mean didly-squat. For the most part, I'm ok with all that. I trust implicitly that He's working all - emphasis on all- things for my good. No one likes growing pains, but they are necessary.

I'm hesitant to blame the devil for certain problems, because I know God tests us, tries us, and refines us. I'm hesitant to inform God that I want Him to fix such-n-such, or that I know He will fix such-n-such, because there's always the possibility that He's just watching me to see how I'm going to react if He doesn't fix it the way I expected.

I might have failed or passed the test in one swift move yesterday.

My hand doesn't work right. The doctor said don't use it for ten days, if it's carpel tunnel then the hopefully swelling will have gone down and life will return to normal. I play the piano for my church, my church family. I called my pastor and told him I was out of commission. A call that I will never make again. The only other person that can play has become the song leader and so we just sang acapella. I have never felt more selfish and derelict in my life. I left the church that morning informing the pastor that I'd be back to playing that night. (note to my family that reads this blog...don't tell mom about me playing) :)

The main thing I've learned through all this is that music is my easy "in" with God. If I need peace, comfort, calm, patience, or hope - those all come when I sit down to play. Some of my best prayers, most loving prayers for people that I might generally have a hard time loving, comes through my playing.

I'm typing this with one hand, cleaning, working, reading, everything happens with one hand. And I don't even care, I can take these limitations in stride. But just the thoughts of my not playing has me...I can't even begin to describe the swell of emotions.

I asked last week in post "What would you give?" it's almost as if God turned right back around asking me what I wouldn't give.

James says "My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into diverse temptations, knowing this, that the trying of your faith worketh patience". I haven't made it even close to joyfulness. I haven't gotten past sadness yet.

BUT

For all my grief and fear I truly am grateful that He's still working on me.


Sunday morning in the middle of some of my strongest pain tears of grief and fear that I simply could not hold back rolling down my face. And let me tell you that's hard to explain to others during Sunday school lessons on easy topics like Jonah. Both my pastor and Sunday school teacher throughout the morning kept mentioning Gods hand and it was after about the third such mention that I felt a huge hand that reached from my shoulders almost to the top of my head. I quite literally leaned my head back against the support.

It's in me to demand health, healing, and my way. But it was in those simple moments with God's hand that I knew all I would truly plead for in this life is God. Everything else is a blessing.