another day begins

  Another day begins long before dawn as the neighbor's roosters start their daily competition around 4:30 a.m. usually by 5:00 a.m. I give up trying to return to sleep. It wouldn't be so bad if they all sounded rooster like, however, one sounds more like someone trying to scream while being strangled which is startling to say the least. I turn the lamp on and pull out my Clear Word Bible and read a verse or so in James 4, ponder it and lift my thoughts to our kind Heavenly Father sharing with him my thoughts and hopes and concerns especially for my children and their families. I give Him their care for the day and feel relieved to know they are in the best hands.

  One son is in Afghanistan doing his duty and missing his family as his son nears the 10 month mark. With modern technology like pictures, texting, e-mails and video calls he is more in touch with them than those of previous generations. My husband's granddad was in world war 2 and didn't see his daughter till she was almost 4. Communication then was mostly limited to letters which were edited for safety and difficult to get through intact.  Another son already served one year in service to our country in Iraq doing his part to help keep our freedom. The oldest was the one I expected to become the military guy and yet he never did.

  I have spent sleepless nights worrying about my children, as well as their children, and I have had to realize that location doesn't gaurantee safety. Putting trust in God to guide and gaurd them is the best I can do.  But when bad things happen, and someone I love does get hurt, how do I deal with that? I tend to be the momma bear type and want to be protective and deal intently with anyone who causes them harm, the first time I held my first son that instinct overwhelmed me, it was so strong and incredibly fierce. Yet too often I have found that instinct frustrated by the need to control it. It's just not ok to physically attack someone usually.

  At some point, usually sooner than later, one gets smacked in the face with an opportunity to choose forgiveness or reject it.  I find my momma bear instinct doesn't choose forgiveness easily, it takes the grace of God and His Spirit working in me, to reach the point where I realize forgiveness is better than vengeance. This time it has taken about 2 months to reach that point. 

  The thought process is something like this:  I want them to hurt like they hurt my loved one. I want them stopped...they shouldn't be allowed to ever hurt anyone again. There are so many people hurting in this world. Why does this go on. Why isn't it stopped. I want it to stop right now. God, make it stop now. God? Why is this happening? God? if people did things your way no one would ever get hurt would they. I've hurt people. I've done things wrong. I don't do things Your way enough do I? Help me not to hurt anyone again. Please, please, please help me do things Your way I don't want to keep doing things wrong. You've forgiven me, I don't want to forgive them...but I know I should...please please help me to forgive.  Oh.  I don't want to hurt them so much now...does that mean I've forgiven?   It takes a few more conversations with God before I really reach the forgiveness point.  And a lot of revisting Him and relying on Him to deal with the situation in order for me to keep that perspective.

  The absolutely wonderful thing about forgiveness is how it sets me free from the paralyzing poisons of hatred and vengeance. It's amazing how debilitating it is, very much like imprisoning ourselves by thoughts and choices of an angry hurt attitude, to hang on to these things. Now I find myself feeling like I can live my life again. I even started painting again yesterday and that is fantabulous. God is good, all the time, I'm so glad.