Did you get a visual of Metallica?
I did. :)
So this has not exactly been the month of joy we thought it would be when we moved to our new, beautiful home.
Instead, we have been put under a lot of stress.
The kind of stress that makes your heart palpitate as you think about the weight of the world throughout your day.
The kind of stress where you think about your situation when you go to bed, all through the night as you toss and turn, and again first thing when you wake up.
The kind of stress that puts a horrible strain on your marriage.
The kind of stress that makes you feel helpless and angry.
The kind of stress that makes you wander through your day, jumping from one task to another without completing any because you're too distracted.
The kind of stress that makes you snap at your kids (more than usual).
The kind of stress that leaves you praying for God's help while simultaneously blaming Him for not stepping in.
But today as I was holding our 8 month old little guy, I kissed the peach fuzz on his soft little head and realized...it really doesn't matter.
When I hugged our 6 year old little boy, wiped the tears away, and kissed his boo boo, I realized...it really doesn't matter.
When I kissed my husband goodbye as he headed out to his job--a job that provides for us--I realized...it really doesn't matter.
God has tasked each one of us with different things, different jobs, different experiences while on this earth and with those things come certain other "a la carte" items. We each have our struggles and triumphs. We all go through bad times and good times.
It's easy to praise Him in good times. It's super hard to raise my hands and shout "Hallelujah" when I feel like the bottom is falling out of my world.
But then, in the midst of the chaos and the yuck, God allows me to see His greatness in a baby's soft skin, in my 6 year old's tears, in my daughter's soft breath on my face, in my husband's strength and leadership. And I realize I have so much to raise my hands about.
While my world might be shaken, God is still there with me. Even if I still have to go through whatever it is I'm going through, He is there to comfort me. To let me know I'm not alone.
Like my baby, just my holding him and kissing his little head is enough to make him smile and feel safe. My 6 year old's wound still hurts when I hold him and kiss it, but he feels comforted just knowing I'm there.
My 2 year old smiles and greets me because she loves me and wants to be with me. That brings her joy.
And God's love is like that for me.
I may wish He'd swoop in and save the day, but I know He's still there. Even though life's hurts rage on. Even though my heart might be breaking, He's there to pick up the pieces.
So in those times when we want to throw up our hands in despair rather than in praise, we have to decide and make the choice...will we praise God anyway like Job or will we allow ourselves to wallow in our misery?
Can we count our blessings--holding those we love most a little closer, a little tighter-- and weather the storm together?