To be honest as I’ve read Exodus, I’ve never really applied it to my own life before, but as I’ve read the OT this go around I’ve been seeking “How does this apply to me or mine?” Tonight, it jumped off of the page at me. The hardening of hearts.
In Exodus 7, it speaks as Pharaoh’s heart begins to harden as he has his men of magic come repeat Aaron throwing down his staff and it turning into a snake. Of course, he couldn’t explain why Aaron’s snake ate his magicians’ snakes. But this made me think of my own hardened heart.
My father was 47 years old when he was diagnosed with cancer. Before cancer, he was strong, vibrant, busy and full of life. He worked hard and played harder. He was the type of dad that seemed to be everywhere all the time. I don’t know how he was able to do it all and make it all work. He went to work and still showed up at our games that were hours from home. The joys of living in the middle of nowhere and always having to travel to play sports. He would sit in the stands of my basketball and keep my stats. I loved it and hated it all at the same time. I’d give anything to have one of those papers from when I was playing.
Daddy would also play with us even though we didn’t always gravitate to the same sports he loved and was good at. He taught us all to swim but we wouldn’t go on to be on competitive swim or dive teams. He taught us to play tennis, but few of us ever competed and none of us at his level. He wrestled and we only did that on our living room floor. He played football as did my brother, but he also had four daughters. I loved to play basketball. He was a self taught bull in the China cabinet cross between a wanna be Magic Johnson and Kareem Abdul-Jabbar that loved to shoot granny shot free throws. But I can’t tell you how many times my dad and I would get into it or I’d be mad at someone or something else in the world, and he’d stand outside with me in silence as he rebounded ball after ball. It had to be so boring for him. Yet, it’s how he communicated with me without saying a word.
When he got sick, he became everything he’d never been. He was too sick to work and too weak to play. Cancer took his life a cell and a bone at a time. I hated it! I hated every moment of it! I got so angry. Unfortunately, I want the child he was as a father. I couldn’t sit idly by and rebound for him. As a more mature adult, I wish I could have been more like he had been for me in those moments. Instead, my heart became hardened a lot like Pharaoh’s.
In retrospect now, I see that God was rescuing my father from cancer. He allowed healing to come through his death, which is exactly what I had prayed for. But in the moments before and after his passing, I only saw it for what it was for me at that moment – the greatest loss of my life! I didn’t understand God. I didn’t want to see if from His perspective. I didn’t like the answer, so God probably wasn’t as real as I’d been led to believe He was. It wasn’t fair. I didn’t like it. I didn’t agree with. I didn’t want to understand it. I hardened my heart.
Now, that’s not to say I didn’t live on the fence. I was very much a lukewarm, untrusting Christian. Go to church. Look the part. Read my Bible. Believe the parts I liked, look over the parts I didn’t, and so on and so on.
I’ve watched as my own children have struggle. I’ve watched as hearts have been hardened. Why their mom? I’ve heard their reasons why it shouldn’t have been me. They casts their doubts. They yelled in anger. They’ve told me the words I’ve told others. Told myself. It’s harder on this side even when I understand because I’m looking back at 20 years of heartache while I searched for the holes to be filled not realizing God’s love was really all I needed to fill the gaps. To find peace. So instead I lived in turmoil and chaos. Exactly where I don’t want them to reside. Yet, there they are closing off their hearts to the miracles right in front of their faces.
As I read through these plagues, I wonder if I’ll find the heartaches of my own life embedded within now that I’m searching for how this applies to me. Will I find my children’s struggles? Will they open their eyes and allow God to soften their hearts faster than I did or will they fall victim to their own demise as well until a small miracle, too great to discredit, rescues them?
This was a hard one for me to wrestle with tonight, but something I needed to face and pray about. God has told me to lay it all at His feet. He’s told me their battles are not mine to fight. He’s given me my own, so I’ll stay out of their way as difficult as that is as their momma. God has called me to trust Him with my offspring just as He called the other greats to trust Him with theirs. I pray for them daily. May they open their eyes to God Almighty and see Him for all that He is. For He is the Great I Am!
courage2conquercancer 