Ok, I admit this isn’t a review from the next chapter in Foster’s book–it’s better: It’s application!
We are now back in school full-time, and this is my first term as a full-time seminary student and full-time Mom. Already I’m seeing that finding time for homework and studying is going to require more creativity than I’d ever dreamed. More than anything though, I just hate having to leave Dutch at home to go to class. Once I get there, I’m in love all over again–truly seminary is the most challenging, stretching, life-changing, eye-opening, horizon-broadening, faith-building thing I’ve ever done. I love learning and growing and the professors and students there are like perfectly sharpened instruments in the process. But leaving Dutch in the morning is so hard, even though I know he’s happy at home with Oma and Papa. As it is right now, we are gone at school all day on Mondays and Tuesdays.
Tonight at 5:30, Jeff got done with class and I was anxious to get home. I only have one two-hour class on Wednesdays, but since we only have one car, I just spend the rest of the day doing homework while Jeff is in class for an additional 4 1/2 hours. So, we’re tired, scarfing dinner out of a tupperware that I heated in the microwave, and we’re both drained and anxious to see our little boy. Jeff is so jazzed about his Christianity & Culture class that he talks non-stop all the way to the Gladstone exit. I’m dreaming about giving Dutch kisses, hoping we get home in time to play for a little while before he has to go to bed. Suddenly he says, “Oh no! I forgot my computer at school.” I close my eyes, frustrated. Instantly I’m ticked: Why can’t you remember stuff? Now we’re going to totally miss out on Dutch’s time to play and traffic is bad and you’re so busy talking about seminary stuff that you can’t remember … mid-thought I realize that I am a horrible, ugly, nasty dragon inside and I’m being a b—-. Jeff takes the next exit and I call home and let Dad know we’re going to be late. As we wait at the onramp light, slowly letting cars go one by one, it’s quiet and Jeff is discouraged. “I’m sorry, hon.” Of course I say it’s ok, but I can tell we’re still both just frustrated and tired. It’s not so much the computer, it’s the fact that he has 16 credits, plus his internship, plus tutoring middle schoolers two days a week, plus teaching an entire day in Corvallis at Cornerstone, plus now attending Foothills staff meetings, and trying to be a husband and father someone in the middle of it all. We drove back to school in slience, and when we arrived, even though the building is supposed to stay open until 10pm, all the doors were locked. Of course. So, Jeff takes off to try to find janitors while I sit in the car and watch the minutes go by. Then, I remembered that that morning my time prayer-journalling had been cut short and I’d wanted to continue writing out my prayers to God later. I need it right now, I thought. This is the perfect time to pray. So I pulled out my laptop and began writing to God. Blunt, honest, frustrated prayers. Then I remembered someone I’d read in my prayer book, about seeing frustrations and interruptions and asking God, What are you trying to tell me through this? So, I asked God (although I still had an attitude), what He wanted to speak to us through this little minor but frustrating episode. Just then Jeff returned to the car with laptop in hand, and somehow both of our hearts had changed.
As we drove, we now had love in our hearts again for each other and weren’t blinded by frustration. But, we both realized that what the situation had brought up was a genuine concern: Jeff had way too much on his plate and felt overwhelmed and I felt like he didn’t have enough time to spend with Dutch. Then, in what I now see was God, we realized that simply dropping Jeff’s Wednesday classes would solve the entire problem. Though it means prolonging graduation, we both agreed that we are not doing this to hurry to the finish line, and wisdom and maturity would say that doing things right, having time for family and God and rest and minsitry, is more important than getting a degree done speedily. With the Wednesday classes gone, it also means that I can just zip in and do my 2-hour class while Dutch is napping and be back home so we only have to be away from him for one day instead of 2! Yay! It also means I don’t have to pack two lunches and two travel dinners for that day, and Jeff will have an entire free day to study. And…it means that his weekly schedule is flexible in case something else opens up ministry-wise. We couldn’t have seen it coming, but before we knew it, we both felt like a HUGE weight was lifted off our shoulders. By the time we got home, we were in high spirits, tumbling on the floor with Dutch and listening to him “tell us” about his day.
We certainly didn’t handle everything right. Both of our initial reactions to the simple detour were immature and selfish. But how God is not put off by that! He still used the situation to slow us down and frustrate us just enough to show us that something needed to change. And by the grace of God we listened and obeyed. I don’t know the significance of that decision, but I sense that He was pleased by it. By simply saying, You’re right God, we were taking on too much and we want to obey you in this. We trust you God.
I pray that this helps me to be quicker to ask God, What do you want to tell me through this little inconvenience, Lord? Teach me to listen.