Monday, November 14, 2011

Before My Heart Believed You Came To My Rescue

Yet again, Hillsong is ministering to my soul. This time with one line of one song. I hit this line, and I feel something stir inside me. At first, I thought this was me telling God this truth...but now I know this is also about George.

"Before my heart believed, you came to my rescue..."

George and I have been taking two HUGE steps forward with amazing heart exposing talks...and then we take a GIANT spill backwards. Every day this scenario replays itself, ever since Orphan Sunday. I am thankful for these talks because George has been brutally honest with me, allowing me to see into his heart a bit more.

And here is the issue...George does not believe.

Don't get me wrong, George believes in God and he believes in Jesus. He just doesn't believe in me...yet.

However, just like Jesus came to MY rescue before I believed...I must continue to come to George's rescue even though he doesn't believe me.

Perfect example to illustrate this point: George has an obsession with shoes - and he has about 12 pairs because of this. Yet, last Thursday, he decided to take out an old pair, a pair that was clearly too small. When I saw him take out those shoes, I said very nicely, "Hey buddy, those shoes are too small for you now. Hurry up and grab another pair of shoes upstairs." George slumped onto the ground, did the wonderful Ethiopian whine, and I quickly decided, "OK...lie in the bed you just made." George very proudly put on the too-small shoes and headed off to school.

He came home crying saying his feet were burning. These too-small shoes were causing a lot of pain. But George would not relent...he would not say that I was right. He would not believe me.

Just tonight, as George was putting out his clothes for tomorrow I said, "Hey, it's going to be warm tomorrow so you'll probably want to wear shorts."

"I want to wear JEANS."

Again...he doesn't believe me.

I used to think he was stubborn. I used to think he would do these thing simply to irritate the heck out of me. But now...I think God has given me a glimpse into the real reason WHY. George does not believe me...he doesn't trust me...he doesn't think I am trustworthy.


I am reading Kisses From Katie and there was one section where she is talking about how hard this life of hers is, especially with her adopted children. She writes:

"How do I tell a child I love her when she doesn't know love? How do I expect her to trust me when all she has ever known is broken trust? I prove it. I earn it. I remind them over and over again with words, actions, hugs and kisses. And I remind myself over and over again that Christ incarnated in the parent is the only hope of incarnating Christ in a child. When a child bites me, hits me, or looks into my eyes and tries to shove me away so she can hurt me before I hurt her, when a child overeats to the point of vomiting because she was so hunger and is afraid of that hunger or she hides food under her covers "just in case", when my child cries out for a birth mother or birth father who was abusive, what then? I love anyway."

Before George believes me, I MUST come to his rescue.

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