Where we focus our attention determines the attitude we have.
I'm starting to catch on that this is a lesson God really, really wants me to learn. He wants me to understand that even in a heavy, dark place, His light will shine and permeate the dark. That when I feel unable to handle the situation I am in, His presence will carry me.
I believe within the deepest part of me that as our Father, God desires that His children would walk in freedom. That in spite - even because of - our circumstance, we can live each moment of our days in the peace that walking with God provides.
I'm learning that this requires something of us, though. It requires that we fight to focus our attention on Jesus every step of the way. "Fight" may seem like a strong verb to use, but if you've been through a pit of life or are currently in one, you know that it absolutely takes a warrior heart to, yes, fight against each and every circumstance that attempts to steal our attention from God. It is the troubles of life in general - sickness, loss, stress, everyday worries - that so fiercely steal our focus if we let them. The things that aren't fitting into our plans and the situations that hit us hard when we least expect them are what capture our attention in a heartbeat. We can get so bogged down in the trouble that every bit of our attention is placed on those things instead of God, and as a result, our attitude falters.
Maybe we begin to look inward, focusing on how the trouble is negatively impacting us and internally naming all the ways this trouble is messing up our plans. Possibly, our attitude toward others changes, our attention focused on one's shortcomings or struggles. Perhaps our attitude toward God begins to change. We begin to doubt that in the midst of our trouble, He is doing a good thing, our trust in Him momentarily faltering.
I have, without a doubt, struggled in each of these areas. I'm struggling even now, fighting to keep my eyes focused on Jesus in this newest season of life's trouble, trying to understand the enigma that is God's timing.
I'm having to learn how to say goodbye to my mother, watching as her mind slips elsewhere as dementia slowly takes over her brain.
About a month after we found out we were pregnant, we got some heavy
news: an MRI showed three new spots in the brain of my mother. Brief
history, here. My mom was diagnosed with a brain tumor a little over 20
years ago, when I was just a toddler. She was given months to live but
made the decision to endure intense chemo and radiation as well as
tricky brain surgery to remove the tumor as well as part of the frontal
lobe of her brain. Though doctors said she may not live long, God had
other plans entirely: she survived.
Recently, though, following the news the MRI revealed, her health began to rapidly decline. In a matter of months, she went from being mostly independent and living alone to being cared for by Hospice in her new home, an assisted living facility. It is so rapid, in fact, that we are barely beginning to accept her latest decline before she slips further down. To say I don't fully understand God's timing is quite possibly the understatement of the year.
A few months ago, Daniel and I spent a night in the ER with her following a fall and potential head injury at her residence. As she was lying there sleeping in the hospital bed, I sat and just watched her breathe. I let the emotions I hold at bay come out freely, feeling heartbreak in watching my Mother's decline and seeing her in such a condition. Feeling frustration over knowing there is nothing, medically speaking, we can do to heal her. And, feeling a need to understand why this is happening.
Just then, in the midst of that (mostly) inner emotional turmoil, I felt my baby girl move within me. In a way, it jolted me back to reality. The moment before, I was preoccupied in my bubble of frustration: my attention being on me, my attitude being an inwardly focused one. As my little girl moved, it was a perfect reminder of all the GOOD in my life right now. Yes, there is pain in experiencing my mother's decline. Of course there is. Of course this is an incredibly difficult time. But, that pain is not to discredit all the ways God is richly blessing us. I need to look no further than my (quickly) growing midsection to refocus my attention.
He gives us nothing but good gifts. Luke 11:13 says "If you then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask Him?" As her imperfect mother, giving Camden something that would bring about destruction in her life is unfathomable to me, so how much more must God, our PERFECT Father, desire to give us good things? Our Father God giving us good gifts is not up for debate. What is, though, is whether we see the gifts as something good from Him instead of focusing on whether or not we understand His timing in these gifts.
In that moment of feeling Camden move, I thanked God for the perfect gift that she is and began to cry out to Him. I didn't pray anything specific but instead just called out His name. I didn't even know what I needed from Him, but He did. A bit later, I saw a verse, Isaiah 46:4, shared on a social media site. I looked it up in my bible, and it read: "Even to your old age I am he, I am He who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you. I will sustain you and I will rescue you."
I read those words and wept. The peace of God in this moment was unmistakable. I wept at the love of God, that as my Father he spoke tenderly to me words that brought comfort to my aching heart. I wept at the reminder that He is holding my Mama's precious life in His hands, and that even when it looks like she has been forsaken by Him, He has done no such thing. He is caring for her and will do so until He decides to bring her home.
This verse has acted as a reminder from the Spirit to fight in the those moments when I am tempted to focus on my lack of understanding above all. A reminder to keep my eyes focused on Jesus and to actively look for His gifts in the midst of everything else going on. Turns out, His gifts have not been hard to spot.
Like the gift of my mom's lucidity two months ago as we shared that we were having a baby girl and the story of how she was named. That in that moment, my mother and I held hands and cried tears of joy over the gift of Camden's life.
Or, the afternoon when my Mom remembered how much I enjoy sweet tea in my pregnancy as she ordered it for me before I arrived for lunch with her.
And then there is getting the gift of speaking God's heart to her as we sat outside today, the warm breeze blowing gently as if God's breath. I got to tell her how much God loves her and that He is taking care of her, and then reading Isaiah 46:4 over her after being prompted by the Spirit.
And, possibly, the best gift of all: My mother, with a weak smile displayed on her beautiful face, stroking my cheek with the tangible love of a mother for her daughter.
These are the things that I desire to fight to focus on. I want my eyes to see all the gifts God is giving here and live in this season with an attitude of thankfulness and trust in His plan instead of focusing on the many negatives here, thus succumbing to an attitude of resentment toward God.
The setbacks here are thick, yes; but God's love is thicker. The pain is real, but so is God's plan for Mama's life. Her physical and mental struggles right now are intense. But, so is God's power to heal. It is not a matter of if God will heal my Mama; it is a matter of when.
Thank you, Jesus, for the work You are doing. We praise You!
