Am I Clingy?

As I watched the furry caterpillars wrap around his sweet little hands, I couldn’t believe how they clung to his skin. It was like plush tape on his fingers, needing to be peeled off. They were completely attached, hanging on, resisting separation.

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When you think of the word “cling” – what comes to mind? For me, it’s my sweet four-year-old son screaming, in different tones and at various noise levels … “Mommy, Mommeeee, Mommmmmeeeeee!” I hope I’m not the only one who experiences this lovely array of sounds. I love it, but really, he needs me ALL the time!

In Luke 17, beginning in verse 11, we learn about the ten men with leprosy. They seek Jesus so He can heal them. They yell, “Jesus, Master, have pity on us!” Those men clung to Jesus with desperation for the hope of healing.

Jesus gave them instructions to go to the priests. And, they were healed. I love this extra lesson here – listen to God always, even when the instructions may not make sense. Jesus could’ve healed them instantly, but He chose to give them directions. They listened and were healed.

Then, we learn in verse 15 that only one returned to thank Jesus. Life was good now, all was right with the world, and only one had the time to praise Jesus for this miracle. The audacity of those ungrateful nine little punks! No more clinging or crying out to Jesus in desperation.

Ouch! I’m guilty of being an ungrateful little punk, I shouldn’t judge. I remember the recent storms in my life – miscarriage, prenatal depression – the days when I was desperately seeking God. I would let nothing separate us. I was like a clingy caterpillar constantly praying … Jesus, carry me through this moment. It’s You and me, Jesus. Only You can do this, I cannot.

Then, God healed me and blessed our family. I was so thankful for the restoration. But today, as things are going well, I no longer constantly think those thoughts. I am grateful and thank Him, but I don’t desperately seek Him like a clingy caterpillar. I’ve gotten caught-up in my worldly bliss and busyness.

I will strive to cling, to grasp, to seek God with every decision. I will be like my son, seeking a parent ALL the time. I will desperately hold on to Jesus always, not just for life’s tumultuous storms. In every moment, I want to be a clingy caterpillar.

“Barricade the road that goes Nowhere;
grace me with your clear revelation.
I choose the true road to Somewhere,
I post your road signs at every curve and corner.
I grasp and cling to whatever you tell me;
God, don’t let me down!
I’ll run the course you lay out for me
if you’ll just show me how.
God, teach me lessons for living so
I can stay the course.”
Psalms 119:29-33 (The Message)

 

 

The Rainbow that Followed a Life Storm

My seven-year-old daughter is terrified of thunderstorms. Every night when I’m tucking my sweet Ella into bed, she will say, “Please watch the weatherman and come get me if it is windy, rainy or thundery.” 

One day as we were walking into swim practice on a clear, picture-perfect day, I said, “I’m so thankful for the beautiful weather and sunshine.” 

She agreed and added, “I like the storms too, Mom.”

“Then maybe you could sleep in your own bed when it storms!” I laughed. 

 “I like the storms because afterwards God makes a beautiful rainbow,” she said, “and everything starts to grow again.” 

I was shocked at her wisdom. Most of all, I was a very proud mom because I knew she was learning an important life lesson.

Storms are a part of life. They unexpectedly blow into our lives and leave us tattered and torn. When they finally end, we must pick up the pieces and rebuild. Being a Christian isn’t a promise from God that nothing bad will ever happen; however, being a Christian is what helps us rebuild after we have experienced our own personal storms. 

When my daughter was three, I became pregnant with our second child. My husband and I went to our first prenatal appointment with much excitement and a list of questions ranging from prenatal vitamins to when I could fly during my pregnancy. It’s amazing how you forget this stuff from the first time! 

During the ultrasound, a perplexed look came across my doctor’s face. After what seemed like an eternity, she told me I had a “missed miscarriage”. My heart sank. I couldn’t talk or cry. I was numb. 

My body never recognized the miscarriage. Two weeks later, I had to undergo a D&C on our seventh wedding anniversary. I didn’t think it was fair. We have a loving, Christian home. We’re good people. Why? I felt empty and desolate. The sadness hurt. I wondered if anything would ever be the same again. 

It wasn’t easy, but we rebuilt after our storm by praying, thanking God for our many blessings, and seeking the support of family and friends. I was reminded that my life experiences, including the destructive storms, determine who I am. The rebuilding process required strength and patience, but a rainbow did follow. We were blessed with our son. 

Our storms give each of us a unique story. I pray that when you find yourself in the midst of a storm, you will remember that a rainbow follows. After the rainbow, everything grows.

“Consider it pure joy…whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” James 1:2-4

Without the miscarriage (a horrible life storm), we wouldn't have our sweet son (the rainbow).

The Conversation:  Think of one of your life’s storms. After you gave yourself time to grieve and/or heal (which could take months or years, depending on the storm), did a rainbow follow? Please share your stories!