A couple of weeks ago I began slowly undressing my home. First, I took off all of its jewelry: The candles and vases and momentos from travel and treasure hunts and childhoods. Last week I turned its pockets inside out; the drawers full of tools necessary for various habits and hobbies. Today, I stripped it of its accessories; the scarves around its windows and the pictures adorning its walls. I look about the house, and even though it still has all its clothes on (aka, furniture), it just looks undressed.
Tomorrow evening our old home will be naked, and our new home will have the look of our older daughter when she was going through what we affectionately call her "bag-lady" phase...when she wore all of her favorite clothes at once, with a swimsuit over it all!
It is all so bittersweet. I'm so excited about our new adventure, and every time we read a verse or devotional about obedience to God's direction, I feel a sense of joy that we are responding, and for once don't have that twinge of guilt that comes from ignoring my Father. However, goodbyes are always difficult, and this time we aren't just saying farewell to a house, we are bidding adieu to a chapter of our lives; no...we are turning our backs on a former lifestyle altogether.
This is all new and different and scary and exciting and... I feel naked and exposed and vulnerable, just like my house. Guess its time to clothe myself with the love of Christ and everything will be easy, cuz of Him.
Today is one of those horrible, terrible days that cannot be defined. I cannot pin my feelings of melancholy to a specific event or trauma. I just woke up feeling down in the dumps and find myself questioning my life choices.
One of the reasons I'm keeping this blog is so that I can look back and see all that God has done, as well as to hopefully help other people see themselves in my struggles. Sometimes it just helps to realize you aren't "bad" for feeling the way you do. You are just like everybody else. Today, however, I feel alone.
I did some work on updating our checkbook registry and looked up our bank statement online. My head started doing that thing where I add up numbers and subtract numbers and realize that we don't make or have as much money as I thought we did. (I think that's called math, but I HATE that four-letter word.) Then I started thinking about how much we owe each month, and those numbers were even more askew. (See...math and numbers are evil.)
On top of that, our oldest son is under attack by someone he works with, and its all just boiled up to the point that I can't just smile and quote a random Scripture and swallow it all down again. I do know that God will work this all out. Somehow the house will sell, or it won't. Either way, we'll be okay. What's the worst thing that could happen? We wind up going to foreclosure? We screw our credit score?
I guess I just thought that if we were obedient, everything would go smoothly. My head says that's dumb. God made it clear that we would suffer for His names sake. I guess I just don't want that to be true. I want right choices to come with sunshine and lollipops. I want the path of obedience to be covered in extra-thick padded carpet...or better yet, a luxury vehicle to carry me easily down the road on auto-pilot.
I sat myself down and started thinking about all the things I could do to fix the situation. I could go back to work, even just part time. However, in my heart of hearts, I know that I need to make ISCA my full-time job. I need to make sure I'm available for these students. I just know that to be true. I look around the house and try to identify more things to sell. I don't really NEED an engagement ring. I know I'm married. Rick knows I love him.
Way down, in the very back corner of my heart, I think I hear a little voice telling me that God wants to take care of this. He wants to show me that He will provide in ways that I can't imagine possible. He wants it to be very obvious that HE is the one working it all out, and that its been in the works since the beginning. I'm just so afraid.
Father, I believe. Help me in my unbelief.
I am not a big fan of the Gaithers, but I just can't find better lyrics than these. If there are any talented composers out there who would like to set this to a different tune, please send it to me when you're done.
I believe. Help thou my unbelief. I take the finite risk of trusting like a child. I believe. Help thou my unbelief. I walk into the unknown, trusting all the while. I long so much to feel the warmth that others seem to know. But should I never feel a thing, I claim him even so. I believe. Help thou my unbelief. I walk into the unknown trusting as a child.
Over the past few days I've had a few reminders of who I was then and who I am now.
Last night was our prayer and Bible study time with ISCA. The sun room was full of folks from all around the world, I got to meet some ISCA neighbors, and the study was rich. I find myself diving in...and talking WAY too much.
"Back in the day" I wanted to make sure everyone knew I was scholarly, intelligent and very well-versed in Scripture. I would raise my hand and offer my pearls of wisdom every time a question was asked. As I've aged, I've come to realize just how patient my fellow study-goers actually were. Last night, I kept catching myself holding back; waiting to see what everyone else had to say. I still talked too much, but I'm constantly enthralled with what these young men and women share as well as the questions they pose. Tuesday evening is now my favorite time of the week as I am filled to the brim with wisdom from every age and nation imaginable.
After the meeting we spent some time discussing our transition into ISCA house ministry. I'll be honest, I am a planner. I like to have specific dates, specific instructions, specific agendas...you get the idea. I just want all those ducks in a straight, orderly row. "Back in the day" I would have been highly offended that everyone wasn't wound as tightly as I am. But last night, I just let it go. I had some of the information I needed, and I had most of the dates, and that was enough for last night. I didn't need it all right then. It was so nice to see that maybe I am growing more laid back and just a little less "puckered."
Today, I had the rare privilege to have lunch with one of my sweetest friends. She's just a few years ahead of me in this parenting journey, and actually brought along her first grandbaby. That little bundle is just about the cutest thing ever, and I was so excited to get to be part of Grandma's first outing. As is often the case around lunchtime, the little sweetheart simply wasn't in the mood for sitting in the booth, listening to grandma and her friend yammer on and on, and she made herself heard. We did some tag-team grandma'ing, standing-sitting, rocking-jiggling, patting-rubbing. We pulled out all the tricks, and both wound up saying at some point, "I've had four kids...I know how to do this, right?"
While we didn't get to do as much catching up as we may have liked, it was fun to take turns with the baby, remembering how we would somehow go out with three little kids AND a baby on a regular basis. How did we survive that? We did more than survive, though. We both now have four grown children who are thriving. We had friends we turned to in the same boat, and we had older ladies to look to for hope and encouragement.
Here we are in the same boat again. My friend and I had each other to look to when we were perplexed by this baby who just wouldn't be satisfied. We have each other to look to for encouragement when we have weddings to plan and in-laws to share our children with.
I am not who I was, yet so much is the same. Friends and relationships have always been so much more important than schedules or knowing all the answers. People are what really matter. With age comes wisdom (and grandbabies)!
Today I was up to my armpits in silver polish, trying to pack up a bunch of beautiful service ware my mother gave me. Way back in the late 1960's and early 1970's, when my parents were still unhappily married, my mother took her role as a Navy Officer's wife very seriously. It was back in the days of Jackie Kennedy, and the pressure was hot and heavy for the military wives to be the inspiration for the Stepford Wives.
My parents eventually divorced in the mid-seventies, and my Mom remarried a man who laid carpet and installed formica counter tops for a living. Their lifestyle now enjoyed a radically different type of party (much more fun, if you ask me).
I have vague memories of getting out the china, silver and stemware for very fancy events, some when I was tiny and others when I was older. I have good memories of my mother very carefully handing me one of these precious treasures and watching me as I tiptoed with it to the table, both of us holding our breath the whole time.
After many years collecting dust in a closet of my childhood home, all of the china and silver found its way to my dining room. My Mom generously shared these special things with me, and I was so incredibly grateful. However, I don't really use them any more than my Mom did.
While my mother did an amazing job of teaching me proper etiquette and which fork goes with which course, she did an equally amazing job of teaching me that people are more important than things. God has continued to teach me that lesson since I've left my mother's home. Through the years, I've had the opportunity to share these lovely items with many people who host special occasions and need a pretty table to show their guests how much they mean to them.
Today, as I polished the silver and wrapped it up carefully in the hand-sewn silvercloth pouches my mother custom made for each piece, I thought about the reasons she bought these items, the reason we both kept them, and what they've really meant in our lives. The truth is, right now I just don't have anywhere to store these material things. I also feel rather guilty even having them. They are SO nice and are such a luxury. But...they were my Mom's.
My Mom and I are now estranged. I left my childhood religion, and that religion requires shunning when someone leaves. I've come to terms with that, but it doesn't make me love my Mom any less. These precious, unnecessary, luxurious items are a connection to my mother. When I polish these pieces, I'm transported back to a time when we were close, and that makes me happy. I think its okay to keep them.
I stood at the sink for a couple of hours rubbing off the tarnish on the silver tea pots and trays and bowls and candle sticks, and decided I did need to get rid of some of it..but not all. I will keep some. As I buffed out the dark spots on the surface, I heard a song on the radio that made me think of all of my female friends who feel the same pressure I do to "be" what our culture says we should be...to have the things we're supposed to have...to look the way we're supposed to look. It made me think of my Mom and all that pressure she felt to be the perfect Navy wife, and my concerns with what people will think of me if they know I have such fancy material things, and my daughters who want to meet Mr. Right and one day have homes where they can have pretty things handed down from their mother and grandmother. I think of my friends who lost things in divorces and feel the pressure of providing for themselves. I think of the ladies in Honduras who have to sell themselves just to eat.
Anyway...this song (the CLEAN version, mind you) made me think of all the pressure that's been heaped on women, and how we just don't have to accept it. Our Heavenly Dad is crazy about us, and we need to remind each other of that every chance we get. So, here's to you, ladies! (BTW, I know this was originally done by Pink, but these two are really, really good!)
"Freedom isn't free." Its a phrase most of us have heard, and each of us has our own understanding of how it applies to our lives. Some think of friends and loved ones who gave their lives to defend the rights afforded Americans in our Constitution. Others think of the Cross, and the price Christ paid for our right relationship with the Father. Right now, I'm thinking about my puppy and earthly belongings.
It all sounded like such a simple plan when we opened our hearts and minds to the concept of answering God's call to ISCA. We were going to "downsize" and move into the ministry home. Straight-cut and easy, right? It is proving to be very difficult.
I would like to be able to say, "I hold everything loosely and am willing to give up everything for Christ." But looking into the eyes of my little Sophie and knowing that I might actually have to relinquish her completely to someone else...I recognize the strong hold earthly things still have on my heart. I don't think its wrong to love my sweet puppy so much, however, I know that questioning going into ministry because of my attachment to a dog is foolish, doubtful, mistrustful, and just a symptom of a bigger struggle.
I want it all. I want to continue living the American dream of working hard and enjoying the reward AND obedience to Christ. In my heart, I believe that is true freedom: to love Jesus, and do whatever I want.
But God never once promised that in Scripture. He always promised struggle, difficulty, hardship for His sake. Freedom always requires death...Christ on the Cross, soldiers in battle, and my heart to this world.
So, I look at my lovely home and the beautiful things we've worked so hard to obtain (even though each and every one of these things is a gift from God), and I pray that God will give me the strength to let them go. I pray that God will allow us to break free from the chains of materialism and to no longer live a life of slavery to our mortgage. I pray that we will no longer be imprisoned by our blessings, but will be free to say "YES" to whatever the Father asks. (I pray I'll get to visit my Sophie)
Freedom isn't free, but it is right there, ready for me to drop everything and grasp it with both hands...hands I can raise in praise to the one who made me free!
For a bunch of different reasons, our family has decided to take a break from our regular worship service on Sunday and visit other worship services for the summer. Its kinda weird going to church where I was the administrator for a couple of years, but I'm not involved in any of the day-to-day operations anymore. We also want to start networking for ISCA...meet people in other congregations and make sure international students are on their radar screen. So, we're taking a couple of months off and will be back to our regular programming in September.
There is nowhere else on the planet that I feel closer to God than in His natural cathedral, so we decided to kick off the summer with a family hike out to Hawksbill Crag. We'd seen pictures of this glorious site, but had never made the trek ourselves.
The hike to the crag is mostly downhill for @ 1.5 miles. We got out to the crag, and had it all to ourselves for at least an hour. We took pictures, admired God's creation, talked and prayed about what this new ministry will mean to our family. We discussed the very real enemy who doesn't want us to reach these international students. One way he'll try to wear us down is through our relationships with each other, so we determined to set aside one hour per week to talk and pray together after dinner. It was such a sweet time.
Then came the hike back. I'm not sure any of us really understood just how hot it was going to be that day. The hike back was uphill the whole way, and we had underestimated just how much water we would need. Eric and Claudia moved ahead of us quickly, and Eric asked for the keys, so they could get into the car at the top of the hill. Rick and I trudged our way back up the mountain, taking several pitstops along the way. We ran out of water, and were seriously sucking wind when we approached the top. Both of us were chanting, "Water...water!" as we spied the car.
But the kids were nowhere to be seen, and the car was locked.
It is not beyond the realms of possibility for Eric to hide and make us search for him, but that made no sense given the water and A.C. were in that car. We called for the kids with no response. Rick and I spotted a cooler in the bed of a pick up truck, and were incredibly tempted to see if there was any water we could "borrow." Finally, we heard the kids coming. They had taken a wrong turn and had to loop around. We were all completely parched. We were so thirsty that we even drank some of the melted ice in the cooler!
On the drive back, I promised a double scoop of ice cream to whoever could find the verse in the Bible that talked about God being like water in a dry and weary land. After several attempts, we came across Psalm 63. We decided this would be our "go-to" verse when things get tough. We'll think back and remember how we couldn't wait to get that car open and have some water, and recall that we need to feel that same way about our Father. Only when we thirst for Him in the same way we craved that water will we be on the right path...nothing else matters but our relationship with Him and His glory. (BTW, Claudia won the ice cream, but she offered it to Eric...so of course I go them both a double scoop : )
Out on the crag, surrounded by so much beauty, I couldn't help but sing,
Holy Cannoli! There's a for-sale sign in my yard! Oh sure, we've been doing all the "get ready to sell your house" stuff. We've gone through every nook and cranny in the house looking for crap to try to sell to someone else who doesn't really need it either. We've had the yard sale (which really is the most bizarre custom. Let's get real here: Who decided taking all the junk from your house and putting it on your lawn, inviting strangers to come rifle through it was good behavior for civilized society? I drew the line at the old bra's and underwear. Just couldn't handle the idea of my neighbors handling my delicates on the lawn.) We got a storage unit and have stored away all of the "unnecessary" furnishings and personal decorations...which begs the question, if it's unnecessary, why do we still have it?! We've scrubbed, stripped, touched-up, torn down, filled in, and rearranged every square inch of this house.
Yet, I don't think any of this was real until that sign was hammered into our front lawn. There it sits...a visual reminder that our lives are about to radically change.
I am in no way doubting that becoming the housing managers for ISCA is the right decision. Last night we received the official invitation to take the position. Kevin Smith and the Skinners (current housing managers) both related their stories of how God worked to bring us to ISCA. It is abundantly clear that this is all His doing.
No...I'm not doubting that God wants us there. I think I'm doubting that I'm worthy...yeah, that's it...I am so incredibly unqualified to be used this way. I am just not holy enough. Let's look at the facts:
1. Sometimes, I just don't get up early and have a quiet time.
2. I regularly get distracted during prayers, and have a very hard time sitting still for those long, extended prayer times that truly holy people engage in.
3. I like a lot of secular music.
4. I've been known to tell an off-color joke every now and then...and I laugh way too loud when I hear them, too
5. I have also been known to have a glass of wine, and the occasional margarita (and fuzzy navel, and mud slide, and srewdriver, and...)
6. Sometimes I get down right ticked off and think (and will actually voice) unkind and judgmental thoughts.
7. (And this one's the clincher) I really, really, really don't like bread dipped in grape juice. In fact, it makes me gag.
I am so scared of messing up. I am terrified of not being or doing the right thing. I'm just a weak, frail girl who makes lots of mistakes...and its going to be obvious that I don't know how to do this.
Thank God that HE is my strength, and I can only do this through HIM. This will definitely not be me...its all Him.
And I can see that my hands are trembling, I can see that my legs are weak I can see that my head is spinning, but I will overcome And I know that my heart is hurting, And I know that my soul it aches And I know that it seems I'm failing, but I will overcome, yeah
Chorus: O Lord I'm strong in You, O Lord I am wise in You O Lord I can see in You, so I will overcome O Lord I'm loved by You, O Lord I am free in you O Lord I'm complete in You So I will overcome, I will overcome, I will overcome
Bridge: God listen to me shout, I'm so far from anywhere and I'm calling out Lead me, lead me to the rock that is higher than I You're my breath, You're my breath, You're my very life Infinite, Holy King meets weak and frail Christ in me And I will overcome not by my strength but by Your grace and love
