Ruts In The Road!

We live in a small Northern California town named Marysville. Actually, it's a suburb called Linda, but because we aren't incorporated, we still count as part of Marysville.

The area we live in is fairly run down in some spots, but our stretch of neighborhood is nice. A quiet street, with some very nice homes, and some okay homes...gets a little rowdy now and then, but not bad, for the most part.

Except...

The streets are HORRIBLE!! Filled with ruts and potholes and dips...it's a wonder we only lost the entire transmission, instead of just the bolt that holds it secure...right after we bought our Kia...because of the condition of the roads...

Did I mention that they are TERRIBLE??

And because we are not in an incorporated area, we are the last to have any work done on our streets. Usually, it's just a quick blacktop bandaid that holds until the rain comes, or the diesel drives over it a half dozen times.

Then it's back to pothole city.

So, why am I sharing all of this loveliness with you today?

Because my life has felt a lot like the roads around here...full of ruts, pits, and dips (ok, that's funny, and it's not supposed to be:-)

Our oldest daughter has finally decided to let God turn her life around, and has asked to come back home so she can make the transition and get things in order. I was so afraid to let her back in, to try again. We've grown so used to the four of us that I feared becoming the five of us again would be too destructive.

Well, I wasn't TOTALLY right...

We've had a multitude of disagreements (the ruts), a series of misunderstandings (the pits), and a lot of attitudes that desperately need adjusting (the dips). My innards feel totally shaken, and my head hurts from all of the jolts and jerks along the way.

The final decision hasn't been made. She may or may not return home to live. Keep in mind, she's 20 and has lived a life totally opposite of ours, so foreign to me sometimes I look at her and wonder "Who is this person she keeps telling me about?"

Pain, disappointment, and anger rise to the surface at the worst of times. We all bear scars from the last months and years. We are all works in progress, and we all battle our sinful selves, wanting desperately for the Spirit to do a work, but too stubborn to get out of His way.

So, please, continue to pray for our battle scarred family. Pray for wisdom as we travel down this worn, too well travelled road. I have many companions...other moms who watch and wait for prodigals to return...other moms who suffer as their children suffer...other moms who wait for the miracle they beg for in the middle of the night.

I know I'm not alone. And we need you to pray...as we will pray for you.

Be blessed, and cling to the memory of past blessings...allow them to be the milestones that guide you back when you've lost your way...and tell your children of how the Lord has blessed you greatly!

Deena