There Is Pain In Waiting

I once heard someone say,

"Sometimes you have to break a child's will without breaking her heart."

Some people would think that is harsh or cruel. Other's would blow it off and find it insignificant. I, on the other hand, write with eyes full of tears because today I am watching the will of a child be broken. It is necessary and must be done, but as I've heard many parents say and never understood as a child, "This does hurt me more than it hurts her."

What I would give to hold her in my arms right now, rock her like I used to when she was a baby, and tell her everything will be alright. But I know that now is not that time. Right now, she must experience the consequences of a choice wrongly made. She must learn from her mistakes and become the lady God created her to be and I must in silence and prayer watch as her little strong will is gently cracked and her world feels as though it is falling apart.

The strength of a mother may seem so small and fragile compared to some, but every mother knows the strength required to watch one of her little ones fall and the discipline required to let the child find her way back into the hand of her Maker on her own.

While I patiently wait, I cling to the promise,
"No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it." Hebrews 12:11

Perspective from Kenya

Are you thankful for what you have? I was challenged by this question last week when a guy in one of my classes shared this story. A pastor from Kenya came to speak at his church. The ministry staff took the guest to dinner. The group went to a top-notch restaurant and ordered the foreigner a nice steak. The gentleman's meal arrived at the table first. To be polite my friend said, "Go ahead and eat. You don't have to wait for us." The guest paused, looked quizically and replied, "Is this just for me? I thought this was for everyone. This food could feed my family."

Later as the group traveled through the city during the icestorm, the visitor looked out across the yards. Sheets and blankets covered plants and shrubs as homeowners tried to protect their plants from the freeze. The gentleman gazing out the car window politely said, "You have blankets for your plants and trees. My country does not even have enough blankets for it's people."

As I listened to the stories about this Kenyan pastor, the question rattled in my mind, "Are you thankful for what you have?" Sometimes it takes a stranger to help us see how blessed we really are.