Just one more game.  Just until I win two in a row.  These are the thoughts that keep running through my mind as I obsessively play one game after another of Solitaire on my phone.  Or on my tablet. Or my computer.

I start my days so full of purpose, focus; spend time in prayer and meditation, asking God to “teach me to number my days, that I may gain a heart of wisdom” (Ps.90:12). And then I play one game.  And an hour later I’m late getting ready for work; the bed’s not made; and all that spiritual wisdom I tried to assimilate into my day is left in my journal next to my chair.

I have to wonder if this is an intentional sabotage on the part of my addled brain to avoid facing the difficult things in my life, especially these last several years- the death of my parents, my feelings of inadequacy as a wife and mother, my loss of purpose in ministry.  And now my latest hurdle- my cancer diagnosis.

I think back to when I was a pre-teen, in that horribly awkward age of adolescence when I struggled with things like weight, not fitting in, being clumsy.  I suffered with that “first born child” overburdened sense of responsibility.  I always thought that my sisters, just one and two years younger than I was, were closer to each other than to me.  They shared a lot of the same interests, and while they were outside playing and riding bikes, I was inside, pulling out the deck of cards and playing Solitaire the “old fashioned way”- laying those cards out on the bed, in 7 piles, flipping cards 3 at a time.  Was I doing that to avoid solving problems, to keep from looking at my “issues” at 11 years old?  I don’t think it went that deep.  But I do know it gave me some sense of accomplishment if I could win a few games in a row, and improve my time. And it served as an escape for my addict “brain in training”.  Probably healthier than some of the other ways I found to escape dealing with life, later on in college and beyond.

What is it that makes me so fearful, so unwilling to face these challenges of life, even though I claim to be a woman of faith?  I read and claim these promises- that “The Lord is my light and my salvation- whom shall I fear?  The Lord is the stronghold of my life- of whom shall I be afraid?” (Ps 27:1); “I sought the Lord and he answered me; he delivered me from all my fears” (Ps 34:4); “Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea” (Ps 46:2); “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God.  I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” (Isaiah 41:10).

What a beautiful image – that the God of the universe would hold me in His right hand!  How much more comforting are  these words when I let them truly dwell in my heart than the fleeing satisfaction of a few winning games of Solitaire, or the comfort of a pint of ice cream, or the mind-numbing distraction of a few hours of television.  And yet, how often I choose the instant gratification of the flesh over the sometimes painful pruning of my soul.  Even though I know the latter has much more long-lasting results.

I just finished an amazing Bible study called “Finding I Am” by Lysa Terkeurst, and the final chapter about abiding in the True Vine, about the pruning that is necessary to produce more fruit really brought this home for me.  She points out that God isn’t hiding from us- he wants us to know him, so we can more fully abide in him, rely on him for that growth we so often try to produce on our own.

It made me realize that even though I claim to know God, to believe in Him, I still tend to hide from him when it starts to get hard.  When I don’t think I’m ready for the lessons he might be trying to teach me.  Or quite possibly the lessons he wants to teach someone else through my response to difficulty.  Quite honestly, I get fearful that he will use me as some sort of sacrificial lamb, as an “object lesson”- how grandiose of me to think my struggles are that important, that unique!  And so I try to delay the inevitable pruning by playing one more game…

I know that God has given me this desire to write, to share my story in a way that might reach others.  I was recently blessed to share part of my story in church, and I pray that it was able to give hope to some who might be sharing some of the “life on life’s terms” stuff that I have gone through.  I hope I was able to communicate God’s faithfulness through those things, even when I failed to see it in the midst of the storms.  And when I started this blog, it was with the idea of showing how God has brought beauty from ashes- to reveal the redemption that is only possible with him. 

When I used to write in college, in what I consider my Hemmingway “tortured soul” phase, my imagery consisted of things like rusty swings, tear-stained cement walls, dreary pictures that only a soul without faith in any higher power could conjure up.  Now, I delight in things that speak of the great artistry only a powerful God could create- the mighty ocean, colorful sunrises, the variety of birds at my feeder in the morning when I’m reading. 

And so, for today, I am choosing to abide, to allow some pruning by surrendering these current struggles to God without the distractions of mindless games or fleshly comforts.  As I sit in anticipation of the side effects I may have from my first round of chemo, waiting patiently to see if my “time released” medication will start it’s infusion soon, I am choosing, for now, to meditate on the promises that I have found to be true- God says “I will never leave you or forsake you” (Deut. 31:6, Hebrews 13:5); I choose to be amazed by God today, and by his creation, rather than to try and understand why he has chosen to allow yet another struggle in my life.  I am overwhelmed by the thought of him quieting me with his love, rejoicing over me with singing (Zephaniah 3:17), rather than lamenting over my  perceived burdens, throwing poorly attended pity parties.

Will I occasionally fall back into that obsessive behavior of playing game after game of Solitaire, temporarily avoiding the pain of pruning and growing?  Of course I will.  And it may not be so bad to give my tired, overtaxed mind a little break once in a while.  I will still enjoy to escape into a great (or mediocre) piece of fiction, or indulge the guilty pleasure of another season of Dancing with the Stars. 

But when it comes to really facing the trials of life, I have come to believe, in my heart of hearts, that He will be glorified through it all- and that it will be “well with my soul”.