Two years doesn’t sound like much but I have struggled off and on a lot in these short two years, especially lately. I know I’ve been MIA for too long but I think I’m back … at least part time. As I wrote a close friend the other day, I’m not going to set myself up for a disappointment by planning something I may not be able to complete.
Life for me this summer has been, um, unmanageable at best. During my worst times, I felt like my head was going to blow apart. Most people love summer and everything associated with warm/hot weather. Not me. As June approaches, I get this feeling of dread because I know the combination of hot temperatures, the constant fluctuation of barometric pressure due to our summer monsoon storm systems, and the high-pitched screaming of the cicadas will serve to drive me bananas.
[Side note: I know people who love the "song" of the cicadas, and if that's you, please forgive me for dissing them. One of my fibromyalgia symptoms is extreme sensitivity to lots of things including bright lights, certain chemicals and odors, tastes, medicines, and yes, high-pitched sounds. Although we don't have trees around our home, we are surrounded by trees that are home to a certain breed of cicada that appears in mid-summer and don't leave until sometime in October. There are literally thousands—if not millions—of these creatures in the trees around us, and the extremely high-pitched noise they make starts at around 7:30 am and doesn't stop until 7:30 pm when it is dark out. I can't even enjoy my patio without having to wear foam earplugs, which keep out most of the high-pitched noise created by the cicadas while still enabling me to be able to hear and carry on a conversation with my hubby or whoever happens to be sitting out there with me.]
The other day I finally snapped, and I’m not proud of it but to keep things real here, I want to share some of that with you. I’m sure you know people who “suffer in silence”—I guess I’m not very good at that. Oh, I’ll go along for awhile without telling anyone how awful I’m feeling, but toward the end of summer, that gets thrown out the window. Last week, I started stomping around here grumbling out loud about how unfair all this is. Why is it that on top of daily unrelenting migraines do I have to be surrounded by trees that house those awful creatures whose extremely high-pitched cacophony causes me to run for my foam ear plugs? And I’m talking about hearing them even though our windows are all shut!
On that particular day, I grumbled to myself, to my hubby, to God. And of course, every single small thing irritated me, in addition to my pounding head. I kept dropping things and had trouble concentrating, and finally I yelled to my sweet hubby, “This is what my life is like now! I can’t do anything right and those stupid insects are driving me bats!”
God bless my calm, ever-loving hubby’s heart. He listened to my ranting and then calmly changed the subject. Gotta love a man who knows when not to try to fix things!
Oh, but God was working in my heart all that day, and had been for several weeks. I know He patiently listened to all my grumbling and complaining but kept trying to show me how blessed my life is—no matter what I’m going through. The same night I had seemingly reached my limit, this question came to my mind: Why are you kicking against the goads?
Huh? Where had that come from? I recalled reading that in the Bible a few times over the years but couldn’t place exactly where. The next morning I immediately looked it up and found it in chapter 26 of the book of Acts, where Paul is explaining his story to King Agrippa. This is only a small portion of that story (verses 12-15) [emphasis mine]:
12 “On one of these journeys I was going to Damascus with the authority and commission of the chief priests. 13 About noon, King Agrippa, as I was on the road, I saw a light from heaven, brighter than the sun, blazing around me and my companions. 14 We all fell to the ground, and I heard a voice saying to me in Aramaic, ‘Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me? It is hard for you to kick against the goads.’
15 “Then I asked, ‘Who are you, Lord?’
“ ‘I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting,’ the Lord replied.
According to my Bible commentary, an oxgoad was a sharp stick used to prod cattle. “It is hard for you to kick against the goads” (oxgoads) means, “You are only hurting yourself.”
Wow, did that ever resonate with me! All my grumbling, complaining and whining was doing nothing but hurting me! And more importantly, it was beginning to hurt my relationship with my Savior because the more I complained, the more I was moving away from Him rather than toward Him.
Beloved, have you ever found yourself in such a situation? I was crushed that I had allowed myself to wallow in my misery for so long and immediately asked God to forgive my complaining and whining. And here’s the clincher: not only did He forgive me, but He forgot right away and we’ve moved to a whole new level in our relationship! If this is hard for you to believe, read this:
Out of the depths I cry to you, Lord;
Lord, hear my voice.
Let your ears be attentive
to my cry for mercy.
If you, Lord, kept a record of sins,
Lord, who could stand?
But with you there is forgiveness,
so that we can, with reverence, serve you.
I wait for the Lord, my whole being waits,
and in his word I put my hope.
I wait for the Lord
more than watchmen wait for the morning,
more than watchmen wait for the morning.
Israel, put your hope in the Lord,
for with the Lord is unfailing love
and with him is full redemption.
He himself will redeem Israel
from all their sins.
Oh, how thankful I am for God’s unfailing love and forgiveness! How about you, Beloved?
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Posted on September 15, 2013, in forgiveness, Savior, thankful and tagged chronic illness, complaining, contentment, deeper meaning, faith, forgiveness, frustration, God, hurting, Jesus, life, Lord, migraine, pain, thankful, whining. Bookmark the permalink. 6 Comments.