There is not bad from which good doesn't come.
(I do not speak Spanish, but a friend told me this Friday.)
I think we all believe this, but we want to hurry up the second part of the sentence. We loose patience when the good comes far removed in time from the bad. God has His own timing. Good will come when it comes.
All things happen for good for those who love God, Romans 8. Again, it is the timing issue. We have to be patient. It doesn't say that bad things don't happen. Or disappointments or tough times. It says, be patient. Good will follow.
I was in Target years ago, searching shelves for a particular item and I entered an aisle with two Target employees stocking shelves. I overheard their conversation, they were talking about all the tough things that were happening to one of them. Family member ill, not enough money, car broken down. The one said, "That is so sad, that is just so sad." The other replied, "Well I figure that right now, I am between blessings. Yes, the Lord is preparing to bless me, I just have to wait." Isn't that a cool way to look at your life?
How many times have you, months or years later, looked back on something you thought was a really tough thing, and seen good come from it. Sometimes we can see it right away, sometimes months or years later. The good doesn't take away the bad, it gives significance to the moment.
Right now, I am on the end of two days of not being peaceful, and not trusting in God. Our darling basset hound Sporty had complications with her surgery (not her fault at all). She had a marble-sized growth taken off her shoulder Monday. It swelled up afterward. HUGE. She is a stubborn princess and doesn't like the bandages or stitches, so she tears off the bandages immediately, rubs the stitches against the floor, licks and scratches them. She popped the stitches three times (the incision is at four inches long.) She's been back into the vet three times to be resown. Finally Saturday morning after the latest restitching, I fashioned a t-shirt, sewn and tied to prevent her from getting at them. By now I want to watch her constantly, because she still wants to rub them.
Why did they not suggest this the first time? Just like in chemo or radiation, why didn't they give me the tips beforehand? You have to think for yourself, find your own way.
So I sit with her. It is resting, but not quite as restorative when you keep your ear open for her scratching. And last night, oh my, she started whining and banging her crate at 4:45 AM. I was thankfully sleeping right near so I can go in right away, she got her good leg caught up in the t-shirt. Wardrobe malfunction! She and I go out into the living room, settle into our respective sofas. Mike takes over about 6 AM, just like the days of a baby with an earache.
Dad came over here for lunch. Dad's best friend at the Towers broke his hip and is bed ridden. More sadness.
I was feeling terrible for her, for me, for everyone. The feeling of responsibility for her. I was so tired, and couldn't figure out how to make it so she didn't open up the stitches. I was all she had, the poor girl. And I was failing her miserably!
News flash: it is definitely easier to see the good and to not worry if you are well rested and physically feeling good. When you are tired and aching, it's definitely harder to be calm and look on the bright side. I think that is why I failed in the calm, peaceful department Saturday. I was Anxious with a capital A. And I am still a little bit edgy about her today.
Which reminds me to always always always remember, that everyone you come in touch with has some little part of their heart that has a tear in it. So treat everyone gently.
L just said, there are earth mothers and there are rainbow mothers. Earth mothers dig in the sand with you, get their hands dirty, cook for you. Rainbow mothers see the vision with you, teach you to celebrate. How nice to be a little of each; I am sure we are all a little of each. I think I am more an earth mother, even for Sporty.
Off to meditate, nap, and then come the trick or treaters! We are joining our neighbors in the cul-de-sac, literally sitting in lawn chairs on the street, with Chicken Chili, ciabatta, fire pit, and candy galore.
What good is coming of Sporty's ordeal? I don't know yet. Compassion growing in me? She's my sleep buddy. My sizzle sister. And we will heal together.
