My body is in a despondent state here. First of all, I have been sleep training Sonora-Grace which means we all get a bit less sleep than usual with her up at night crying. Then, I have been weaning her from nursing because when she wakes up once I am capable of nursing her, but 3 and 4 times (as she can sometimes be in the habit of doing) I find myself with no milk to offer her and she screams anyway. It’s sort of painful too. Since I’m weaning her (I don’t think any men read my blog…) my body, for the first time in over 2 years, is starting to ovulate again. I cried yesterday when something I had put in my cart on amazon got sold before I purchased it. Hormones are out the roof at this point. Then, I’m sick. Although I have been swallowing vitamins like my life depends on it, and snorting expired Zicam on the off chance that prolonged shelf life isn’t going to poison me and may prevent sickness, I am still sick. And it’s worse than the average cold. My throat hurts, my whole body is shaky, and I’m not hungry. I’m nauseous. I’m tired but I can’t sleep. So last night, although I’d been waiting all day to go to sleep, I couldn’t get my body to doze off so I woke up to read and drink some warm milk and take a couple tablespoons of honey. And some ibuprofen. Then back to bed before Sonora woke up to start her several-times-a-night scream fest where we lay her down every 15-20 minutes while she arches her back so much and locks her body in that position it’s almost impossible TO lay her down. She screams, “No! NO!” at me, and continues to wail like I’m trying to kill her. I don’t remember it being this difficult with the son. I came to the decision to do this after I was crying a couple nights ago, burning from being empty of milk while she was still nursing hard. Throbbing pain from her teeth going into me trying to persuade more milk. I thought, this cannot be God’s will for me. Major ouch. So where was I? Oh yes, now I am pitiful, and sick. Grateful for a small dog to cuddle under my chin because there is nothing better than being cuddled when everything inside you feels like the word “yuck.” But once more, I can’t sleep. We have a big Christmas party to attend tonight and I’ve been looking forward to the occasion for weeks. I plan on getting very drunk tonight. On cold medicine. I’m not letting this sickness get me down!
So anyway, onto other things. Like why I actually decided to leave my sleepless nap and pick up the laptop. I was thinking about something this morning. I’m not going to lie. The epiphany was derived from Francine Rivers not really anything I came up with on my own. My Mom sent me Francine’s novella on Mary called “Unafraid.” Oh, so good. I’m not finished yet but she really brings the story to life. One of the portions that stood out to me was the actual birth. I never really stopped to consider that there were more than angels frequenting the blessed occasion, but satan himself. Of course, Jesus was his worst nightmare! So anyway, this is veering off a bit from where I wanted to go with this. Francine (yes, we are on a first name basis now) talks about Mary a lot, developing her character. She was an average kind-a-girl, who loved God. She wanted to please Him. That was her redeeming quality, among others. But when the angel came to visit her and tell her of God’s plan, immediately she heard from darkness. “Why would God choose you? You really think you are so worthy?”
After reading a good portion of the book, I was thinking about that nasty enemy. How he wants us to admit to ourselves who we really are. When the darkness whispers to us, it may mention its opinion of us, but ultimately it asks who we think we are. What do you think of yourself? The devil can make a lot of leeway with a statement like that because it’s easy to agree with something negative or his evil plans for our circumstance. Something degrading about ourselves, it’s probably something the devil planted himself anyway. Often times God's truth can appear contradictory to where we are at. Especially when it comes to His opinion of us, we may find ourselves thinking, "Why does God love me?" But nothing in the world can change the fact that He does.
So that got me thinking about God and how He speaks. When it pertains to our identity I think He’s more concerned with telling us who we are, not asking.
Maybe conviction will come in the form of a question, like God asked Adam and Eve, “who told you that you were naked?” (I’m sure God knew the answer to that one)
That’s the other thing, God doesn’t have to ask questions. He already knows everything. God tells us who we are. Oh, such sweet things He has to say.
Anyway, maybe my theology is off on this one. Maybe I can do research when I’m not seeing spots, and dozing off. Just wanted to share my epiphany. And I can assure you the cold medicine had worn off by this point so I do not think it was induced by an altered perception. If that helps.
My point: next time the enemy comes up and asks you who you are, don’t tell him what you think, or how you feel, or even what he thinks about you…tap into what God has to say, and sit in that place, and don’t turn away.
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