I have been wrestling with my dreams. I dream of things that my reality doesn’t allow for at this current moment. When I am faced with the struggles and mundane moments of my current reality, I find myself dreaming of the day when I can act on all the things I want to do. Not even just want to do, know God is laying on my heart to do…someday. Often I get frustrated. Why God, would you lay this on my heart if I wont get to it for years? This yearning and desire feels so unfair when I can’t touch it with a six foot pole. The more I lean into my current calling of motherhood, homeschooling, wife-ing, and all the hidden things, the more I realize how big and time consuming these tasks are. The more I also see deep purpose in them. And with all my being, I declare– I do love this work.
Yet, just because I see purpose in it, just because I truly love it as a whole, the day to day grind can be a challenge. It doesn’t always feel like a path of confetti and rainbows. Honestly, somedays it feels like dry, barren, exhausting, uphill climb. When I am wiping butts, cleaning up messes, or burning another meal, I dream of writing and designing. I long to leave the current mundane reality and enter a dream reality. It takes the Lord’s grace and mercy to keep going when I battle stubborn rebellious hearts…again. It takes so much long-suffering and prayer to not throw my hands up and give into laziness in the dry barren climbs.
Lately we have been battling a spirit of laziness in our school work. It has been an ongoing battle the last two weeks. My daughter doesn’t really want to do the hard work so she will either try to ruin the work by scribbling on it, or simply sit and refuse to do anything faster than a snails pace. I set time limits and if she isn’t done with her independent work in a timely manner we move on and it gets added to the end of school. She racked up the work today. I told her, you are sitting here until it gets done. She didn’t seem to mind this consequence. That is, until I told her sister I would read a book in the living room. Instantly she says please read it here. I said no, you are doing your work. She melts into a frenzy and lashes out- “YOU ARE A MEAN MOM! Why wouldn’t you let me listen, you are MEAN!”
I was able to keep my composure on the outside, but these words pounced on the already aching soil of my heart. I was stretched in the long-suffering area and now my daughter was yelling I was mean when my genuine desire and vision for her was a good life. I was pouring myself into preparing her for a solid life. Not to mention it wasn’t even my fault she chose to mess around and miss out on the things I was doing with her sister (even though I warned her of this possibility). I did everything I could to let her choose success, yet when she didn’t chose it, it was my fault.
The Ache.
But in this ache, God impressed a lesson on my heart. It was like He asked me–do you believe I have what is best for you in mind? You are living in this wrestling match with me with your reality verses dreams. You ask me why are you being so mean to give me these goals and dreams then leave me in this reality of never getting to them?
I yearned for my daughter to believe I was paving a path for her best. I wanted her to have faith in that. I ached because she was choosing to fight me and do what she wanted. I ached for her poor choices, knowing she wasn’t choosing the best. How much more does my perfect Father have the best path laid out for me? How much more can I trust Him that my daughter can trust her (not perfect) mother? If I want my daughter to believe my direction for her is good, even when it doesn’t feel good, how much more can I believe that about my Father?
I don’t think longings and dreams will ever go away. Maybe that is the vision for us as we navigate our daily paths. I don’t think the wrestling and struggle will ever go away because pain causes growth. But I do believe I can lay aside fear and anger in my circumstance and obediently follow step by step trusting this path He has me on leads somewhere good. I can push through the hard, knowing there is beauty and goodness awaiting if I keep going.
My Father’s path is good even though it is hard. My Father’s path is perfect even though it isn’t what I would imagine. My Father’s path is life-giving even though it isn’t always the confetti and rainbows I desire. And somehow all that hard births a kind of joy and freedom all my crafted ideas and dreams never would. Somehow in all the wishing and longing for the things I want, deep down, I know my Fathers path is the better way.
