Last week we walked through a profound disappointment with one of our girls. I use the word “profound” because that’s how it feels when you’re eleven. Basically, she longed for something that, in the end, belonged to someone else.
As her mom, I see all the necessary parts of growing up happening in this one disappointment — the spiritual discipline of letting go, the practice of faith, the understanding that smallness is not always something to run away from.
But in her most vulnerable moments, lessons don’t help her, at least not the kind you teach on purpose.
Still, I sensed the tension within myself – on the one hand I felt like I should be teaching her something in all this, helping her to see the markers. On the other hand, I just wanted to comfort her and to remind her she isn’t alone.
It’s true, learning is good and disappointments are an opportunity for growth. But I’ve grown weary of trying to squeeze a lesson out of everything, of always asking what God is trying to teach me in every circumstance, of seeing the world through lesson-colored glasses.
I am guilty of managing my experience of difficulty so my struggles don’t feel wasted. In this action, I fear I’ve missed sacred times of healing in the darkness because I’ve wanted to rush ahead to the more understandable light. I have bullet-pointed my soul so that things make sense and have regarded God only as my teacher, forgetting he is also my friend.
School is good and necessary, but in my heart I long for home.
The words of Paul come to mind as I remember he didn’t say “To live is to become Christ-like.”
It sounds almost right, but it’s completely wrong.
Instead, he said, “For to me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain” (Phil. 1:21).
To live is a person, Christ himself.
Sometimes I teach my kids stuff on purpose. Mostly, though, I just enjoy their company.
Today I’ll practice walking into the great mystery of God. I will practice encountering Jesus as a person and not a character. I will live this day as a daughter first and allow the student to tag along behind.
Today I’ll grieve the losses, laugh at the jokes, sit in the silence, and move through the routines. I’ll keep my eyes open for Christ’s presence rather than trying to figure out his plan. And as I carry each moment as it comes, I will release my obsession with learning a lesson and instead begin to learn the person of Christ, whatever that might mean today.
Well said!
PREACH.
YES. Thank you. I too have grown weary of trying to squeeze a lesson out of everything. Thank you so much for putting this into words. And your words about mostly enjoying your kids company will also helpfully direct me today.
So true. This is my life.
Get it, woman.
LOVE.
I’m guilty of that kind of experience-managing, too. Recently I had a friend listen to all my guesses about what God was trying to teach me through a struggle, and then she patiently said “I think we do God a disservice” when we always try to figure out why He does things, why things happen, what lesson there is to be learned. Practicing this right along with you!
I needed this. This illustrates something I am going through and how I need to Him as a friend.
Such a good point—thank you!
I don’t have kids, so I struggle less with trying to make everything a lesson in my home (though I have six younger siblings, so that DOES happen.) I feel more like Peter on the mountain with the transfigured Christ, fumbling around trying to build a tent to memorialize this moment and telling Jesus “It’s a good thing we are here!” as if this couldn’t have happened without Peter and his instagram-happy self. Oh Everly–sometimes God just wants to talk to you, not to your audience through you. Sometimes He just wants to show you a beautiful sunset, not have it pasted on the Internet. I’m learning to unlearn, I’m learning that more often than not, I’m the student, not the teacher.
Fresh and beautiful. And to every word a soft amen.
Managing my experiences…so many ways to fall into doing that. There’s a time for everything. A time. Not every time. Not all the time. Thanks for that much needed reminder.
I want to simply enjoy the company of my kids today. I love how you said it.
Beautiful! I always need to hear this. What a good reminder.
Yes. I do this too. Didn’t realize it until I read your words, but I do. Thank you. I am joining you in being a daughter first and letting the student tag along behind. Thank you for sharing truth today.
This right here? Just thank you : )
Thank you, Emily. You help me to feel brave and loved.
I love you so… and somehow, it’s always like you are in my head! I am mid-post, writing something that the Lord whispered to me over the weekend and now the temptation is to simply link to here! 😉 What I love when I stop by here is the invitation to just breathe. In this super bossy, busy world… there is so much refreshing in the invitation (and discipline) to not try to squeeze a lesson out of every. single. thing.
Yes, Emily. I learned this in the darkest moments of my life. I wanted, if not my will at least a “reasonable explanation ” – something to make it all work together for my good in my own mind. Instead He offered Himself – and in time I found it was everything I needed.
Thank you for your honest, open heart.
“I am guilty of managing my experience of difficulty so my struggles don’t feel wasted. ” Oh my, yes. This, right there.
2014 was a hard year for our family, (so much so that my “word” for 2015 is Recover) and I tried to learn from every instance. And it’s just exhausting.
Sarah M
“I’ll keep my eyes open for Christ’s presence rather than trying to figure out His plan.” Thanks for this reminder. You are a blessing.
oh this is so good.
Yep – all of that! Been hiding under my covers this morning. Christmas break seems to be indefinitely extended into a winter wonderland and while I’m loving the nearness of my people, all life progress has been suspended. Being over doing and the presence of Christ, the center of the progress.
Thank you, Emily. Just what I needed to hear.
Emily, thanks so much for sharing your heart progress in this. It is a wonderful reminder that God is “a friend who sticks closer than a brother” and not just a holy schoolmaster. I needed your words today.
This brought tears to my eyes today. Must’ve hit a spot I needed touched. And Me too! to this: School is good and necessary, but in my heart I long for home.
Emily, I can relate! I feel like I’m constantly looking for a “reason” or in your case a lesson. Thanks for reminding me that I need to focus on being and not doing. Listening and not talking. Very humbling.
Yes, this is the reality my family has been living for years now. Through my daughter’s cancer and surgeries, my autoimmune diseases, a family-size helping of PTSD, dozen’s of funerals for children we love, job loss, marriage struggles, my son’s aspergers, and the list goes on- I had to come to the place where I discovered we are just “healing” through our days. Some days that doesn’t look like very much at all, but that is where God has us. He has taught us incredible lessons in very intimate ways and every one of us has been changed down to our core. But we have also learned that when “normal” life is ripped apart and stripped down to its rawest emotions, many days we just abide in Him and that is all.
One of the biggest lessons I am learning with my teenage daughter is to listen to her circumstances and not offer any advice or feedback unless she asks for it. The beauty is that she wants to tell, and often whatever she needs to know comes out of her just speaking it out loud. I’ve learned a lot from that. Instead of always looking for the answer, for the “lesson”, just speaking my thoughts out loud (or in my blog post), gives me whatever I might need to know.
Beautiful blogpost – thank you for sharing it.
Really, really good! Sometimes, the greatest gift we give to the ones who watch our lives unfold is the gift of dying. That’s gain. Dying to self. Dying to desires. Dying to managing the outcomes. Dying to control. So we can be born anew in the light!
psst – just peeked at your lovely site. A nice, calming place you have there!
This really spoke to my heart. I just wanted you to know that your words made an impact. The scripture “To live is Christ” is like an onion to me. It’s as if my soul in the deepest parts agrees with it, but when I really think about it, it has, honestly, always confused me a bit. God reveals more and more understanding in layers peeled back like an onion. This was another of the layers for me. It makes sense on another level after reading this. More goodness. Thank you for sharing.
I can’t tell you how happy my kids would be if I quit with the lectures when all they want me to do is listen. So much truth here, for me and for them.
I find when I am slowing down enough to read, the wisdom I gain is my reward!
I am a recent widow with three kids 12 and under. I have been intellectualizing my grief by trying to learn lessons and not let my husband’s life be wasted. This
really spoke to me and I am sure I was drawn to your writing because it is just
what I needed to hear. Thank you.
Your words have brought tears and I’m ever so thankful to have you here, Becka.
I see myself in your daughter and I praise God for all the times that my mother sat with me in my distress, holding me despite the smallness of my problems and not trying to tell me it wasn’t necessary. She extended grace to me in those times when hope seemed so far away.
Romans 12:15 comes to mind – Paul doesn’t say “Laugh when they laugh but teach them a lesson when they fall” but instead says “Rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep.” What a beautiful picture of Christ-like love.
LOVE this!
“I am guilty of managing my experience of difficulty so my struggles don’t feel wasted. In this action, I fear I’ve missed sacred times of healing in the darkness because I’ve wanted to rush ahead to the more understandable light.”
Too true. Thanks for writing this. Sometimes (maybe most of the time) I don’t realize things about myself until I hear someone else say them. I’ve been running myself in circles trying to figure out how to really deal with my emotions instead of skimming over them, and here it is. I want to stop learning and growing from my circumstances for a minute and just find God as a friend. That sounds like a weight off my shoulders — thankful for you!
This resonates with me. It comes as I’m in the middle of your book, Grace for the Good Girl, and as I lean into My One Word for 2015, Listen. Thanks, friend.
“I’ll keep my eyes open for Christ’s presence rather than trying to figure out his plan”
I needed to hear that today. I think I’ll add it to my sketch book of prayers and thoughts that I read each morning – or maybe paste it on my office wall. Either way, it’s a message I need to let sink in deep. Why do I keep insisting that I must know the plan? I already know the plan – it’s to Love One Another.
Dear Emily!
Just a little thank you from far away Norway. I randomly stumbled across your blog a few months back and have been reading it ever since. Thank you for truly creating space to breathe, which is so so hard for me to find. I just loved todays blogpost on not having to always learn something from everything that is going on. I have always struggled with life, and I have always tried hard to make everyone around me happy, a specially my troubled family (my parents and four siblings). This winter though has been so full of conflict, pain and tragedy. There is so much hurting oneself and others in my family that I have no idea how to survive it. I am lucky to have a beautiful one year old daughter and a loving husband, and they are a big part of what is keeping me sane at the moment, as is your blog. Just felt a burden fall of my shoulders when I read todays blog post. Though God will probably teach me something through this, to day I can just focus on that He is a friend and that He is near and that He doesn’t frown upon me even when I feel like what is going on is just painful and meaningless. Thank you.
I completely agree, although I think I see my tendency toward incorporating a lesson into everything show up more in my parenting than in my personal life. Obviously, I want to be a diligent teacher of my children, and use teachable moments when they present themselves, but I know this is not my only (or maybe not even my primary) function in their lives.
First of all, I want them to learn character from my example, not my words. And I’m convinced that being with my kids instead of teaching at them is the right choice in most situations, simply because it is the more difficult choice.
Every night before bed, we ask our kids to share from their day one thing that made them happy and one thing that made them sad. The teaching words are always right on the tip of my tongue. It’s so easy to say, “You know, if you had listened to mommy, you wouldn’t have had so many time outs today.” The harder ones, but the ones that feel so much more right when I find the self-control to say them are: “I’m sorry you had a rough day. I had a hard time making good choices today too. Let’s try again tomorrow, okay?”
Beautifully said Emily…I needed to read this.
Blessings,
Lynne
Beautiful! I so desperately needed to hear this, not only as a conviction, but also as a comfort in knowing I’m not alone in this. Too often, I’m guilty of being my own holy spirit. Worse, the holy spirit of others. God has been reminding me lately that He alone is in control. I need to let go and let Him. He doesn’t want me burdened with trying to figure it all out. He loves me so much, and He wants to carry the weight of working out His story for my life that in reality, has already been written. These truths grant such Peace. ????
Those question marks were meant to be a heart. Hehe
My word for 2015 is Abide—just learning to Abide in Jesus and let His Presence be enough—so this really resonates with me.
Thank you. My husband and I are in a season of waiting and walking by faith, and I am guilty of interpreting every setback as a lesson God wants to teach me, as if by learning the lesson quickly, we could move on to better things. I need to sink into the darkness and allow myself to feel the discomfort of the ground shaking beneath my feet, while holding tight to the Author and Finisher of my faith.
Read another devo today that mentions Louie Giglio’s book “Goliath Must Fall.” A quote that caught my attention was ” Faith thrives in holy discomfort.” It’s never easy to enter a space/ time like this. By His grace He provided some beautiful women at a retreat this weekend to usher me into such a space. While it still feels hard, I can say it is “well” with my soul. Perhaps Kristene DiMarco’s song “Take Courage” will bless you and me as we courageously sink in. Cheering you on, sister, and holding your other hand in the Spirit.
Wow! What a gift you have. The words you use are surely inspired y God. Your words have blessed me many times. Thank you for allowing Him to use you in such a profound way.
Sometimes the only way to have avoided a disappoiontment, would have been never to have planned the good thing, but then we’d never have the joy of anticipation.
Sometimes it all ends up falling apart, not through any one person’s fault, but just the way circumstances worked out, however much joy we’ve had in the planning.
Sometimes it is hard to see the good that God is working. Sometimes we just have to go back to His abundant grace, and there we find His joy.