I came across something the other day, it was a commentary on the book of Habakkuk, a minor prophet from the Old Testament. You see, I keep pushing away this nagging feeling I should to study that book, I finally succumbed. I’ve read it and re-read it, and decided to turn to a commentary for help in understanding it.
There was one quote in particular that moved me. I’ve struggled lately with this feeling of hopelessness, seems harsh to write. My life has taken a new path recently with the homeschooling endeavors, and I never realized what a season of forced growth it would be. I’ve fought that growth since the beginning and Habakkuk has been a gentle prying open of my heart.
I don’t believe I counted the cost of homeschooling, to put it more simply, I never realized how selfish I was. I didn’t know how much I would miss my alone time and even as I type this I have flashbacks to the count down until school is out, watching the clock in anticipation of seeing my children. Never satisfied I guess. I’m still searching for balance, for contentment. We are all getting used to things, we are all simmering down, and we are all just now beginning to enjoy homeschooling. For that, I am so grateful.
The part of this commentary that stopped my dead in my lifeless tracks was this:
There is a balance between self-pity, hopeless resignation and staying mad at God. As usual, the correct response is somewhere in the middle. I think it was Howard Hendricks whom I once heard say, “Humans only occasionally achieve balance as they are swinging from one extreme to the other.”
It brings me to my knees to know that God intimately knows and loves me, he knows my struggle and allows me to live in my rebellion until it makes me sick enough to crawl back into His welcome open arms, His healing waters.
Today as I was making dinner and fumbling over a few loaves of bread that wouldn’t turn out nearly as fluffy as I would have liked, something occurred to me. I have thrown a fit because my life is not my own anymore. Most of my time goes directly to the children, I forsake friendships and cleanliness, I walk passed the same dusty places each day, I am not chasing goals, I squeeze in a moment to exercise, and at the end of the day I am spent. It occurred to me how beautiful that is. If I am living my life in service to someone I am living like Jesus. Moments spent with my children that I will never get back. Small deposits made into their souls that will yield exponentially great returns. My life is of great value in living this way, my eyes opened today.
I am still Habakkuk, I am still called struggle or wrestle. I think that shall be my indian name, struggle. I don’t know why I am this way, I look too deeply, think so intensely, sometimes it makes life bitter. When the wrestling is over though, when I finally yield, that’s when the sweetness comes.