Would I say the same of my other struggles?
A follow up to one of my previous stories from last year, “Cancer is the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” which is pinned on my profile:
(I post this for those who want real and actual updates on how I am doing and what I’m working on during this new stage of my journey in this life. Skip if you don’t bother with long stories)
I was listening to a man caution against allowing your testimony to be used manipulatively. We are to testify our personal stories, but honestly. Cancer is an easy situation to share about because people are moved to compassion over your situation.
But every situation isn’t the same. Would people be understanding of my other struggles? No. Lol Everyone is horrified, and unable to see the importance of some of it in benefiting my life.
I’ve expressed on this site that I moved back to my mom’s house, and that she’s a terrible hoarder. People have much less compassion for filth and pests. Personally, I lack a lot of grace, patience, and forgiveness over the whole thing as I watch her collect more and more and more despite my begging her to stop. It sours my heart.
The Bible says to love.
I watch yet another roach dart across the floor, and my heart rages. I’m angry; so much that I’m shaking. I don’t want to live like this. No one is helping me combat these, and she won’t let me hire anyone that can help.
I try so hard not to argue with her or constantly remind her what a problem her hoarding is. It isn’t loving to nag someone. My sisters and I all told her it’s a problem, and that was love. To keep saying it isn’t. It doesn’t help. She has her own heartbreak to sort through, and it manifests as hoarding. She’s ill in a different way.
I prayed about moving out. I begged God to show me where the right place for me is.
Answer: Right where I’m at.
The horror.
How do I know? Because I pray and read the Bible. I pray over my own situation that I know intimately. Others pray for God to help me, and they have their ideas of what that looks like. (So do I, obviously. Who doesn’t want to live in a safe and clean environment? Who wouldn’t want me to be safe?)
“…Therefore humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you in due time, casting all your care upon Him, for He cares for you.”
If He cared, He’d get me out of this mess?
Not necessarily. What does care look like? Taking care of someone’s needs is part of it. Do you understand what I really need at this point in my life? Do you know the importance of saving a heart or what it takes to accomplish that?
During my vacation, I learned a good lesson: we aren’t always going to have comfort.
Wouldn’t you know; I only want comfort in life. 😅 I’ve posted another story here about how God reached me using comfort, which I’d never experienced before from anyone or anything else in the entirety of my life.
But every moment of needing comfort won’t be met for anyone. We aren’t called to never have discomfort or struggles. Paul begged the Lord to remove an ailment from him, but God said, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my strength is made perfect in weakness.”
Would I ever post a story saying, “Living with hoarders is the best thing that ever happened to me…because it brought me closer to the Lord.”
🤣 No!
Never.
But here’s the thing: it does bring me closer to Him. It forces me to seek grace daily and to constantly think about how the Bible says to approach these nasty moments that really try my patience, wrath, and unforgiveness.
I am learning what it takes to love when loving is so difficult. Self preservation screams at me to escape, but there are matters of the physical world and there are matters of the spirit.
What matters now? What mattered ever?
For some people, yeah, they’d absolutely need to move away; and I believe God would provide the escape for them. But for me, being called to working on the state of my heart before whenever my time finally ends, this situation is helping me.
“The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control.”
During my vacation, I reflected on how much I lack concerning the fruit of the Spirit. If I want to cultivate that, I have to test and practice it daily. Guess where I’m tested daily? I prayed for help. Guess what that looks like sometimes: yet another roach scurrying across the floor.
It isn’t that I couldn’t work on growth while in a better environment. I still could. But where better will have me constantly turning to the Lord for help with moment after moment after moment?
And where better could my testimony with my mom be fixed and expressed? She doesn’t know Jesus Christ. She only knows me, a dying nag. She doesn’t understand that I know Him. I haven’t shown myself a good representative. I’ve let my distress and anger get in the way.
I’m exactly where I need to be, and it’s a blessing that doesn’t always seem like one. In my final days (however long that will be, because “can’t be cured” doesn’t mean any second; it means “let’s keep checking back in every 6 months” apparently), I want to keep my sights on Jesus Christ. Sometimes, what that looks like really isn’t pretty and makes for a gross story. But there you have it, because it’s still my testimony. And I don’t care to only have a pretty story while part of the truth is an ugly one. 🧡
In the end, all my struggles have been worth it, because all I want is to be closer to Jesus Christ. I’ve never known a greater love.
(I post this for those who want real and actual updates on how I am doing and what I’m working on during this new stage of my journey in this life. Skip if you don’t bother with long stories)
~
I was listening to a man caution against allowing your testimony to be used manipulatively. We are to testify our personal stories, but honestly. Cancer is an easy situation to share about because people are moved to compassion over your situation.
But every situation isn’t the same. Would people be understanding of my other struggles? No. Lol Everyone is horrified, and unable to see the importance of some of it in benefiting my life.
I’ve expressed on this site that I moved back to my mom’s house, and that she’s a terrible hoarder. People have much less compassion for filth and pests. Personally, I lack a lot of grace, patience, and forgiveness over the whole thing as I watch her collect more and more and more despite my begging her to stop. It sours my heart.
The Bible says to love.
I watch yet another roach dart across the floor, and my heart rages. I’m angry; so much that I’m shaking. I don’t want to live like this. No one is helping me combat these, and she won’t let me hire anyone that can help.
I try so hard not to argue with her or constantly remind her what a problem her hoarding is. It isn’t loving to nag someone. My sisters and I all told her it’s a problem, and that was love. To keep saying it isn’t. It doesn’t help. She has her own heartbreak to sort through, and it manifests as hoarding. She’s ill in a different way.
I prayed about moving out. I begged God to show me where the right place for me is.
Answer: Right where I’m at.
The horror.
How do I know? Because I pray and read the Bible. I pray over my own situation that I know intimately. Others pray for God to help me, and they have their ideas of what that looks like. (So do I, obviously. Who doesn’t want to live in a safe and clean environment? Who wouldn’t want me to be safe?)
“…Therefore humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you in due time, casting all your care upon Him, for He cares for you.”
If He cared, He’d get me out of this mess?
Not necessarily. What does care look like? Taking care of someone’s needs is part of it. Do you understand what I really need at this point in my life? Do you know the importance of saving a heart or what it takes to accomplish that?
During my vacation, I learned a good lesson: we aren’t always going to have comfort.
Wouldn’t you know; I only want comfort in life. 😅 I’ve posted another story here about how God reached me using comfort, which I’d never experienced before from anyone or anything else in the entirety of my life.
But every moment of needing comfort won’t be met for anyone. We aren’t called to never have discomfort or struggles. Paul begged the Lord to remove an ailment from him, but God said, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my strength is made perfect in weakness.”
Would I ever post a story saying, “Living with hoarders is the best thing that ever happened to me…because it brought me closer to the Lord.”
🤣 No!
Never.
But here’s the thing: it does bring me closer to Him. It forces me to seek grace daily and to constantly think about how the Bible says to approach these nasty moments that really try my patience, wrath, and unforgiveness.
I am learning what it takes to love when loving is so difficult. Self preservation screams at me to escape, but there are matters of the physical world and there are matters of the spirit.
What matters now? What mattered ever?
For some people, yeah, they’d absolutely need to move away; and I believe God would provide the escape for them. But for me, being called to working on the state of my heart before whenever my time finally ends, this situation is helping me.
“The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control.”
During my vacation, I reflected on how much I lack concerning the fruit of the Spirit. If I want to cultivate that, I have to test and practice it daily. Guess where I’m tested daily? I prayed for help. Guess what that looks like sometimes: yet another roach scurrying across the floor.
It isn’t that I couldn’t work on growth while in a better environment. I still could. But where better will have me constantly turning to the Lord for help with moment after moment after moment?
And where better could my testimony with my mom be fixed and expressed? She doesn’t know Jesus Christ. She only knows me, a dying nag. She doesn’t understand that I know Him. I haven’t shown myself a good representative. I’ve let my distress and anger get in the way.
I’m exactly where I need to be, and it’s a blessing that doesn’t always seem like one. In my final days (however long that will be, because “can’t be cured” doesn’t mean any second; it means “let’s keep checking back in every 6 months” apparently), I want to keep my sights on Jesus Christ. Sometimes, what that looks like really isn’t pretty and makes for a gross story. But there you have it, because it’s still my testimony. And I don’t care to only have a pretty story while part of the truth is an ugly one. 🧡
In the end, all my struggles have been worth it, because all I want is to be closer to Jesus Christ. I’ve never known a greater love.
36-40
