Even when I don’t see it…

Last night, had you been a fly on the wall in our dining room, you might have experienced anything from horror to compassion to judgment to deep amusement watching the goings on around the meal table. I’ll try to give you a snapshot into our not-so-pretty, but currently fairly typical family life. Meal times usually begin with our youngest declaring ‘DISGUSTING’ with guttural force as soon as she sees whatever is on the plate in front of her – pretty much no matter what that is – then a swift push of the plate away from her and a refusal to eat. Last night was no different and when we stopped to say thank you to the Lord for the meal, she ‘blah, blah, blahhed’ her way through it fairly loudly, in spite of encouragement to not do so. (As I write this I want you to know I’m not intending to paint a bad picture of our sweet youngest… she’s awesome and she’s 5 and she’s growing & learning & testing all the time… I’m just sharing a little of reality and how God is speaking in the midst of it.)

So mealtime continued with a bit of chat about the day, continual encouragement to eat, some bickering between the girls and the middle two arguing about the placement of their legs on their chairs and who was at fault when their legs touched (also applied to elbows and hands too), and Ruth continuing to grump about the disgusting food before her and wanting to know what she had ‘lost’ because of her behavior prior to dinner (she had stabbed Abigail in the back with a metal peg she’d found under the sofa). The loss of dessert was one of the consequences and when she found out (not yet having had a bite of main course) there was weeping, wailing and gnashing of teeth! Oh the misery! [The slightly funny thing is, we’re doing Whole 30 at the moment as a family so dessert has typically become sliced pear or apple, some almonds & pistachios…but the loss of it was still enough to be a devastating consequence in the life of our precious 5 year old – although we’ve discovered she does love almonds & pistachios!]

We were earlier than usual eating dinner yesterday, so although we had planned to take Ruth up to bed sooner than usual, 5:30pm seemed a little TOO early! So we postponed dessert and William suggested I get the guitar out and we spend some time in worship. One of Katherine’s favourite songs is ‘Waymaker’ so it was the first one we did… except that it looked like this: me with guitar on one side of the table, Ruth half sitting, half lurching next to me, trying to stop me playing and untune the guitar, Audrey next to her but with chair turned with the back to the table and sitting facing away from everyone, upset after another argument, Katherine at the end of the table with her little guitar, having snuck in Daddy’s seat, but perturbed at me not having a spare plectrum, William on the other side trying to close his eyes to the chaos & misery around him, and Abigail opposite me slowly finishing up food, feeling less than happy but playing with a pop open purse. Sometimes you have to just do things by faith believing that as you set your eyes on God, the atmosphere might change. It was a challenge. But when we got to the refrain, “Even when I don’t see it, You’re working; Even when I don’t feel it, You’re working; You never stop, You never stop working; You never stop, You never stop working!”, as we sang it it began to go deeper in my spirit. In spite of the crying and the growling and the muttering and the mutiny around me – and at times the utter frustration and feeling of failure and overwhelm and inability as a parent – it was a declaration of faith to my heart and soul. I may not see it or feel it, but God, YOU ARE working. You don’t stop. I was thankful for truth to hold on to.

There was grace too. Maybe the atmosphere changing was just inside my own heart. Even throughout bedtime and although Ruth continued to yell even after they were all in bed, I could smile and know that there was refining happening, that how we respond matters (not that we necessarily got it right even a quarter of the time), that we are learning as much as the girls are learning, and that even if I don’t see it, He is WORKING. And when I went in to deal with Ruth’s yelling, Abigail was lying in bed singing,
“Lord of Hosts, You’re with us,
With us in the fire,
With us as a shelter,
With us in the storm
You will lead us
Through the fiercest battle
Oh, where else would we go
But with the Lord of Hosts“, and there was grace to speak tenderly to our little fireball until her eyes were heavy with sleep and the yelling faded to a whisper.