Peace vs. Anticipation
I'm enjoying a gentle breeze through the windows and the sound of birds chirping in the backyard on a beautiful May afternoon.
Like most afternoons, I assume my current peace is dependent on my children's compliance. Any minute, Nicolas could come rumbling down the stairs to ask if his rest time is over, or I could hear the tell-tale thump of Analise playing in her room.
Most days I focus on anticipating these interruptions, and I miss the moment itself. As soon as I hear the door open or the feet thump to the floor my body tenses, my breath shortens, and the frustration rises. In the interim, I sit, ears pricked, ready to pounce at the slightest sound.
This anticipation is what Sarah Young, in her devotional Jesus Calling, is talking about when she admonishes, "When you try to figure out the future, you are grasping at things that are (the Lord's). This, like all forms of worry, is an act of rebellion: Doubting (the Lord's) promises to care for you."
How much of my frustration as a mother stems from trying to anticipate circumstances in order to prevent undesired outcomes? When I stay angry with my children because their choices interrupt the solitude I long for, am I robbing myself of the opportunity to enjoy the solitude still available?
When I focus on the "not enough", whether it is not enough time, not enough solitude, not enough peace, not enough sanity, I doubt the Lord's provision for me, which is always perfect for this moment.
When I look to the next moment and dread not having patience if my dear children don't rest, I rob myself of the patience with which God is filling me in this moment, and in a way, I go into the next moment twice as empty for spending what wasn't required on this moment and not receiving his provision for the next.
God gives us our provision, our daily bread, each moment. Our call is to trust that he has provided enough and be present to receive it.
Like most afternoons, I assume my current peace is dependent on my children's compliance. Any minute, Nicolas could come rumbling down the stairs to ask if his rest time is over, or I could hear the tell-tale thump of Analise playing in her room.
Most days I focus on anticipating these interruptions, and I miss the moment itself. As soon as I hear the door open or the feet thump to the floor my body tenses, my breath shortens, and the frustration rises. In the interim, I sit, ears pricked, ready to pounce at the slightest sound.
This anticipation is what Sarah Young, in her devotional Jesus Calling, is talking about when she admonishes, "When you try to figure out the future, you are grasping at things that are (the Lord's). This, like all forms of worry, is an act of rebellion: Doubting (the Lord's) promises to care for you."How much of my frustration as a mother stems from trying to anticipate circumstances in order to prevent undesired outcomes? When I stay angry with my children because their choices interrupt the solitude I long for, am I robbing myself of the opportunity to enjoy the solitude still available?
When I focus on the "not enough", whether it is not enough time, not enough solitude, not enough peace, not enough sanity, I doubt the Lord's provision for me, which is always perfect for this moment.
When I look to the next moment and dread not having patience if my dear children don't rest, I rob myself of the patience with which God is filling me in this moment, and in a way, I go into the next moment twice as empty for spending what wasn't required on this moment and not receiving his provision for the next.
God gives us our provision, our daily bread, each moment. Our call is to trust that he has provided enough and be present to receive it.
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