For All That You Have Done

“... From mountain top to valley low

through laughter and through tears

Surely the goodness of my God

Will follow all the years

For all that You have done for us

for every battle won

We’ll raise a song to bless Your heart

For all that you have done

You know our failures and regrets

You always led us home

Redemption’s arm has raised us up

Our triumph in the storm ...”

{From “For All That You Have Done” by Rend Collective}

I cried yesterday – several times. I cried out of frustration. I cried when friends texted, Voxed, and Facebooked prayers and kind words. I cried when life seem complicated. This week has sort of been building toward that kind of day.

Tasks were taking extra steps – getting prescriptions filled for the diabetes supplies that I use EVERY DAY OF MY LIFE required extra phone calls, the grocery store was out of peanut butter chips for the Cookies in a Jar gifts I made for people so I had to go to Walmart, the food pantry was closed when I tried to drop off donations from neighbors and friends and then when I went back again a volunteer was blocking the parking lot and told me I’d have to come back again. My kids’ principal – who is also my friend – won’t get her Christmas gift until after the break because it wasn’t ready this morning.

And Cate woke up with a fever yesterday morning. Yes, again. She’s missed six full days and two half days of the 15 days of school between Thanksgiving and Christmas. There was walking pneumonia, and then virus, and now nothing really. Her blood work and exam were good. She doesn’t have strep throat, the flu, a virus, or mono. And she seems fine today.

But I couldn’t shake the momma instinct that something else was going on. I mentioned some medical history things to the nurse practitioner, who agreed Cate seemed tired and off. I think she heard me. I’m not usually a hypochondriac. I don’t worry about worst-case scenarios. But I Googled too much yesterday.

I told Beth how I was feeling and essentially apologized for whining and crying. She told me I could call it whatever I wanted but God catches all the tears. She reminded me about friendship and faith – two of the most precious things that aren’t really things that God gives us.

Sarah and I had an ongoing text conversation throughout the day. Despite her own troubles, she heard my frustrations. Kayse insisted on gifting me some essential oils to boost Cate’s immune system. Honestly, I’m not sold on oils yet, but I’m sold on friends who care and am willing to try what they have seen work in their homes. Courtney put on her nursing cap and heard my heart. The prayers and texts and Facebook comments sustained my weary heart yesterday and reminded me about what matters.

Some of this year has been hard in a different way than this week. But I’ve never doubted God. I believe He will deliver goodness even in the midst of the pain. I know He redeems and makes new so many things – even when we can’t see how it all will work together. When I step out of my earthly, emotional fog, I see all around me what God has done and is doing for me. As I start the mental list of the blessings, I get teary in a different way. I see how God has blessed my husband’s business, our home life, our extended families, our friends who are like family, the kids’ school, our church, and so on and so on. The good definitely outweighs the bad and offers promise of what’s still to come.

That hope is alive because of Jesus – who is the reason for this season and for every day of our lives. And that’s worth believing regardless of the kind of day you’re having.
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Rend Collective’s Campfire Christmas has been on repeat around here. I. Can’t. Get. Enough. If you haven’t heard it, I recommend it – all of it.

Want more stories? "Peace in the Process: How Adoption Built My Faith & My Family" is available on Amazon. Like me on Facebook, follow me on Twitter, peek into my life on Instagram, follow 152 Insights at Bloglovin', or subscribe to receive "Insights in Your Inbox."