I have joy in Jesus. But, sometimes I fight other feelings.
I feel pain when I correct my children for not sitting quietly during the church service and for not trying to participate in the singing, and they look at me with watery eyes and say, “We can’t understand what anything means!”
I feel guilty when moms at the playground point out the “bad” things my kids are doing every single day (like getting soaking wet in the drinking fountain or carrying sticks). Um…wait…do I really feel guilty? No…I think I only sort of feel guilty—and then I laugh a little on the inside about the paranoia. 🙂
I feel like a distraction and a waste of a seat (or 4) when I’ve taken at least one of my kids out of the service every single Sunday morning that I can remember (and the only reason I haven’t taken them out in the evening too is because I’m playing the piano…speaking of which—).
I feel deficient when I attempt to play the hymns for our church and I bomb 2 of the three. Why couldn’t I have any of my siblings’ musical talent??
I feel blessed and desperate at the same time when I realize the wealth of spiritually uplifting materials available to me in my native language and the dearth of the same for the Italians. The constant influx of new English CDs for kids (even professionally done like Patch the Pirate!) as well as for adults is wonderful! I can choose from dozens of good English hymnbooks. The shear volume of English devotional books (audio, digital, and hardcopy) and good English blog articles on every topic I could possibly want to read about is overwhelming—but what about the Italians? What can I give them to encourage their spirits?
I feel embarrassed when I am trying my very hardest to concentrate through a conversation just to understand the words, and suddenly I realize I’ve been asked a question. Or was it a comment to which I am supposed to say “thank you”? Or maybe “I’m so sorry!” I don’t know. I couldn’t tell. I knew the general topic of conversation, but what should my response be?
I feel my heart breaking when I’m helping the neighbor design a flyer for her job, and she starts asking me meaningful spiritual questions that I can’t answer in Italian or when other neighbors prod for real explanations of why we left America to live here, and I can only give them partial answers in Italian.
I feel unsuitable when I can’t understand what my neighbor is saying to me, and she says, “Your husband must surely speak better Italian than you!”
I feel self-conscious and weak when I’ve thrown up at two different events involving our church people in the short time we’ve been here (migraine related–NOT pregnancy related). 😉
I feel ashamed when near nudity is displayed in front of my kids and I try to teach them a right response. And, I feel jealous at the same time.
But—my feelings are just feelings.
They aren’t fact.
The fact is I’m accepted and loved by God.
I come broken to be mended
I come wounded to be healed
I come desperate to be rescued
I come empty to be filled
I come guilty to be pardoned
By the blood of Christ the Lamb
And I’m welcomed with open arms
Praise God, just as I am.
~Travis Cottrell
Psalm 18:6, 16-19
In my distress I called upon the Lord;
to my God I cried for help.
From his temple he heard my voice,
and my cry to him reached his ears.
He sent from on high, he took me;
he drew me out of many waters.
He rescued me from my strong enemy
and from those who hated me,
for they were too mighty for me.
They confronted me in the day of my calamity,
but the Lord was my support.
He brought me out into a broad place;
he rescued me, because he delighted in me.
–smb