Honor your father and your mother, so that you may live long in the land the Lord your God is giving you. (Exodus 20:12)
"He's eight-eight years old. He's lived a good life. Do what he wants."
"You need to do what's right for him, and what's right for you."
Both of these bits of advice were well-meant and well-received. They're both good advice. I'm not criticizing anyone who has given either piece of advice. The problem develops when they are at least apparently mutually exclusive.
Does one honor one's father by letting him do something that is harmful to him? Or by getting in the way of what he wants? Does it honor him to attempt to manipulate things in the background in his best interest as I see it, or only as he sees it? What if his way of seeing things is unrealistic?
This is where I'm living right now, at the crossroads of "Please him" and "Do What's Right." I'm praying for wisdom, direction, and attitude for both of us but the truth of the matter is that I think I'm failing him. This brings me back to my post about walking on water. There is no safe place to step. Sure, I may not sink, but the winds and waves boisterous are buffeting me. And yet, I come back to the previous post to that. God is good.
On the way to the hospital this morning, this was my struggle. God is good, but I am stressed. I want to trust, but that doesn't mean my body isn't going into fight or flight or freeze mode. I hand my anxiety over to God, but there's part of me that is still "chewing on my tongue" (AKA: worrying.) I know it will all work out for the good, somehow, but I don't understand how, and so I lack the peace I wrote about yesterday. The answers aren't here, the situation isn't resolved and this black-and-white, closure seeking thinker doesn't have the patience to stand and watch, but that all I really can do.
On the way to the hospital this morning, this was my struggle. God is good, but I am stressed. I want to trust, but that doesn't mean my body isn't going into fight or flight or freeze mode. I hand my anxiety over to God, but there's part of me that is still "chewing on my tongue" (AKA: worrying.) I know it will all work out for the good, somehow, but I don't understand how, and so I lack the peace I wrote about yesterday. The answers aren't here, the situation isn't resolved and this black-and-white, closure seeking thinker doesn't have the patience to stand and watch, but that all I really can do.
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