When You Know They Know - Angie Tingle

Our children return from college for their spring break.  They enter home to sleep, be fed, and be heard.

Father, that is home . . . entering into Your place of peace to rest, be fed, and be heard.

Our daughter shared a written moment, a tender moment of Truth bubbling out of her that she had journaled.  And it let our hearts know that she knows.  She knows where guidance can be found.

And she wrote:

I flopped onto the bed with a sigh.

At last I had been given some free time for a few hours from the babysitting. I had been up the night before with Joseph, who had a horrible cough, and we were both exhausted, but that little two-year-old has two naps a day and if I am lucky I get a quick power nap between caring for his other siblings. 

I lay there trying with all my might to fall asleep, but two things were stopping me: the incessant crying and whining that was going on upstairs and the Still-Small-Voice in my head telling me to go the extra mile.

I curled tighter, determined to make-up the hours of lost sleep.

Choose this day whom you serve, daughter.

The battle inside my mind began in earnest. Lord, she told me I could rest. I don't need to go up there right now.

Who is giving her a chance to rest?

She was up last night, too. But she is the mom. She is used to being this tired all the time and I was up more than she was.

Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit, but with humility of mind regard one another as more important than yourself. 

I sat up grumpily. Fine, Lord. I'm going. 

Do all things without grumbling...

Isn't it enough that I going up there to help her? Why do you care if I'm cheerful about it or not? 

Whatever you do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks through Him to God the Father.

God, I'm too tired to be thankful and cheerful. Can you hear the kids up there? At least two of them are crying the other one is whining. God, I can't do it! I'm worn out and emotionally empty.

My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.

I walked up stairs and into the chaos of life holding tightly to His Word. I knew that if I let go of Him, I would fall.   And my God held onto me.

After reading the journal entry, I closed the book and smiled.  And I prayed:

Father, at the end of the day when all is said and done, I just want to know that our children have the tools to live this life for You. That they have You . . . or maybe it is knowing that You have them first . . . in the palm of Your hand.  

You have let me know that she knows!  Thank You.

May you know Jesus Christ is the One who hears your prayers.  And in that place of quiet with Him, may you find rest and sustenance and a listening ear.  It is home.

Love always,
Angie