There is a line in a song that I have wondered about.
"Unrevealed until its season, only God alone can see."
It explores cycles, and emerging fruit as evidence of how God brings life from emptiness. The splendor of birth never gets old.
Yet there is another reason God tarries.
Before John and I were married we were both complacent about our tempers. Or rather, the lack of them. We had no occasion to get snippy as single adults which was proof that we were unflappable. We might not have been brash enough to say as much, but we thought it.
Enter children.
It turned out that anger was a very present danger, and I saw an aspect of my character that had been dormant. I had no awareness that it was part of who I was. God did. But He took His sweet time allowing me to find out.
It might be tempting to suggest that motherhood was the cause of my angst. But that is as much of an illusion as the notion of a sunrise. The orb of light didn't arrive out of nowhere. It was me who was in the dark.
Uncovering my personal propensity to fury, or blame, or contempt is not a feel good situation. But ignorance as an excuse has an expiration date. There comes a point when I need to own up to my dark side.
Upheaval is more than an exercise in confusion. It is a chance to uncover ugliness so that we might choose otherwise. It was not that I had decided to be a calm person, pre babies. It was that no one had ever tested the tensile strength of my serenity.
My prayer as I step between the land mines that have been buried into the current landscape, is to disarm the bombs within me.
