Thanks For The Facebook Memories
Did you know that I’m so old I joined Facebook when you still needed a .edu email address? This will not surprise my children; they already think I’m ancient. I remember being excited when I was finally issued my college email, it felt so grown up. Compared to my first Hotmail user name, which was a silly collection of things I liked followed by a number, I guess it was pretty grown up. So, one of the first things I did with it was sign up for The Facebook. Yes, The Facebook, not just Facebook. Google says they dropped the “The” my first semester of college, so there you go. Old.
All that to say, when I look back on my Facebook memories, I’ve got a motley assortment of 18 years worth of ‘feelings’ (y’all remember that phase?), song lyrics (cause sometimes I was feeling emo, okay?), tags, photos, and eventually my blog. Some of the memories make me laugh, others cringe, and some remind me to update my playlist because I still love those songs. In my memories, I see how my life has changed from college to newlywed, to living overseas, to graduate school, to our first kid, then second kid, to the adoption of our third, plus more kids, with a bunch of moves scattered in there, all the way up to where we are today. 18 years has covered a lot of ground. I’ve grown up and have an [occasionally awkward] social media timeline to chronicle it all.
I recently came across a memory from a blog I wrote in 2017, about six weeks after adopting our little Wonder Woman. I triple-checked that the memory said seven years ago because that doesn’t seem possible. Seven years with her, seven years we never thought we’d have, seven years of life looking far different than I ever imagined. I almost didn’t read it; those memories are complicated for me. But I went ahead and clicked on the link and let that raw post take me back. Despite the number of years I didn’t have far to go, those memories are always close at hand. The post details a cataclysmic shift in our lives, and mine in particular. To put it mildly, I wrote the post when I was falling apart.
Those first six weeks with our Wonder Woman were the start of a massive refining fire that God put me through. God used those initial, painful months to break down who I thought I was, what I valued, and most importantly, who I thought He was and what I thought he “owed” me. It’s a hard truth to realize that you’ve spent your entire life in church and still somehow latched on to the idea that obedience equals comfort or that there is any type of quid pro quo when it comes to following Christ. Jesus died on a cross because he was obedient; I’m not sure why I thought I was owed smooth sailing for my obedience. In the end, I am incredibly thankful that God didn’t allow me to continue believing that lie, even though it was a painful truth to learn. Thank God, it’s a lesson that has stuck.
Still, when I look at the post from 2017, at a time when I was utterly broken, I see myself today. I still struggle with how difficult it is to be a special needs parent, to feel like I’m pulled in so many directions by my children that I’m inevitably failing one or more (or all) of them. I see that broken person who still needs help coping with the screaming of her daughter and the general overwhelm of life. And some days, this is still me, putting undue pressure on myself and sinking under it. “The more I fight to reach “Amazing” the more I get sucked in and sucked down by the weight of my insecurity, exhaustion, and frustration.”
If I’m honest, I find that really frustrating. I wish I didn’t still struggle to cope, that I didn’t feel like a failure, that I could easily and consistently find my identity and worth in what God says about it. These are lessons I wish I could learn once and be done with.
As I wrote back in 2017,
“I thought this would be easier, but it isn’t. I thought if God called me to something that He would equip me to handle it gracefully. Nope. Despite unending grace from God, I myself am not graceful (pretty sure that’s the whole point). God is reminding me that when He called Peter to step out of the boat and walk on water, He didn’t invite him out onto calm seas. He told Peter to take a huge leap of faith and do it on shifting waves and in battering wind. John and I have stepped out of the boat, we’re looking at Jesus and maybe sinking a little bit from fear and doubt. I know that God will see us through this, I know that the waves will cease, the wind will still, and that if I keep my eyes on God we’ll stay afloat. But it’s still hard and it’s still scary. I hope, and have faith, that I will end this year more sure of God’s power than I started it, that I will have found mercy after mercy and grace after grace and will know these beautiful attributes of God more intimately than I ever have. I trust and will cling to the truth in His Word,
“ …He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.” 2 Corinthians 12:9
When I read the end of that blog, when I look at the context of my life then and now, I think, wow, what a privilege. What a privilege to remember that I am weak, and that’s okay. What a privilege to always see my need for grace and mercy. What a privilege to stand in the middle of the storm with Jesus, clinging to Him when I falter (John 14:24-33). And I know that just like I saw God’s faithfulness and power seven years ago, I’ll see it again today because He “is the same yesterday, today, and forever.” (Heb 13:8).
