All posts by Jeff

So most of you (probably all of you, except my own mother) are tired of me talking about how overwhelmed with joy I am to be done with my master’s and graduating tomorrow.   Please indulge me one last time…  I just walked in the door from graduation rehearsal, which I had thought was going to be a pretty huge waste of time but was actually helpful.  When I’m alone (without kids) driving I feel like I get to think so much more. It’s like I actually have 100% of my mind to focus in one direction instead of listening to Dutch talk, pointing out dump trucks, handing snacks, answering questions, you get the idea.  So after rehearsal, I walked slowly to my car, thinking about my day tomorrow.  About graduation, about this chapter of my life that is coming to a close.

And I know I’ve said this before, but as I drove home, listening to worship music, singing at the top of my lungs, “You are Holy, You are Holy, Seated on the Throne,” my eyes filled with tears as pictures flashed through my mind of the last four years:  Packing four lunches and four dinners every Wednesday night, preparing for the marathon of working full days Thursday, then commuting 1.5 hours, sitting in class from 6-10pm, sleeping at Kris & Nikki’s house, then being back in Portland for class from 8am-5pm straight on Fridays.  I thought of eating goldfish crackers during my Theology final to keep from throwing up from morning sickness (and then unfortunately I thought of throwing up right after the final was over).  I thought of pushing like crazy trying to get Heidi born.  I thought of crying on my knees out to God when the house sold and I was so exhausted and needed to move.  I thought of sitting in my car in San Jose and opening my letter from Multnomah that announced my scholarship and confirmed the direction we were to take.  I thought of nursing Heidi while grading Spiritual Formation papers.

And then I thought of the symbol of it all–the academic hood, which they hang around our shoulders as we cross the stage tomorrow. It’s such a small thing, and will just gather dust in my closet in years to come, and yet there’s so much behind it.  And what came to my mind, as I sang about God’s holiness in the car, was that the significance of it comes from the fact that in a sense I will cast that hood at the foot of Jesus someday.  Every thing that we strive for for the Kingdom of God we will get to cast at the foot of our beautiful Savior some day in glory.  It doesn’t get any better than that!!  We raise our hands to worship Him because our hearts, when they’re overwhelmed by His goodness and glory, can’t help but reach up and want to demonstrate, “I give you all I have, God! You are worthy!”  It’s all for you!  And that’s why we do what we do.  I want to DO something worthy of giving to Christ!  I will cast tears, diapers, prayers, academic hoods, and sweat at His feet.  Please Lord let me not enter eternity with nothing to cast at Your feet. I want a crown to cast.

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But the truth also is that I’m tired. I’d like to settle down and stare into space for a few years, thank you very much.  And while that’s perhaps understandable, it’s not admirable.  My default mode is so to just live a safe, comfortable life.  Not too hard, please.  And that reminded me of this video Jeff showed me, by Francis Chan:  I pray we would perform valiently in all God calls us to.  That we can have reason to raise our hands when we dismount. That we can have a crown to cast.

I read an interesting and, quite honestly, rather disturbing portion of scripture this morning.  Second Samuel chapeter 21 gives an account of how David avenges the Gibeonites, righting Saul’s wrong.  So there’s a famine in the land 2 years so “David sought the face of the LORD” basically saying, “Uh, something’s not right here. WHat’s going on?”  and the LORD said, “There is bloodguilt on Saul and on his house, because he put the Gigeonites to death.”  Now, the Gibeonites are a curious group and always kind of puzzle me.  When Joshua and his guys first inhabited the promise land, the Gibeonites got scared that they’d get wiped out, so they pretended to be from a land far far away, wearing old worn out clothes and bringing moldy bread (interesting that apparently the ubiquitousness of moldy bread was the same then as it is now), and asked the Israelites to make a treaty with them and deal kindly with them. The Israelites didn’t seek the Lord, made the treaty, and then and only then discovered that the rascals were their next door neighbors and the Lord had intended for them to be wiped out.  So, basically what they had done was agree to share their promised land with these tricksters for all time.

And because God honors a vow, the treaty would last for all time. Never were they to slaughter the Gibeonites. Well, Saul, who is famous for not following directions very well, had put some Gibeonites to death during his reign.  We’re talking a long time ago. David wasn’t even around then so it obviously wasn’t his fault.  So it kind of seems random that God’s allowing this famine because of a sin that some dead king did a long time ago.  So David asks them basically, “how can I make it right by you?” and they respond they want some of Saul’s blood.  So, David agrees to avenge the Gibeonites by executing seven descendents of Saul.  Wait, what?

That’s the part that really trips me up.  So these seven men, grandsons of King Saul, who probably didn’t even know the guy that much, are executed because of some stupid thing their grandpa did? That’s harsh.  So I’m not going there, but the point seems to be that sin is a big deal, and requires restitution.

Now we know we’ve been bought and redeemed by Christ, but I wonder if there is a principle here for me/us. Because when David did that, and avenged the Gibeonites, it says, “And after that God responded to the plea for the land” v. 14.  Hm.  Who do I need to avenge?

I just wonder if maybe God thinks it’s important for us to be mindful of ways that we need to make things right.  So I prayed and asked God if there was anything I needed to be reminded of, anything that need to be made right, so that a spiritual famine would not take place in my life, but that God would hear my plea.  I was reminded of two things:  Jeff and I had decided to support some certain missionaries in February, but then the house sold things got crazy, and I realized today that we never followed through and called the mission agency.  That might seem small, but if those missionaries were counting on our contribution, we were essentially robbing them, not letting our yes be yes.  This passage showed me that in order to make it right, we should not just start now, but pay back the months we’d neglected.  In essence, righting the wrong we’d overlooked.

Secondly, God brought to mind a very difficult relational/business situation we’ve been in. THe other person, through an amazing change of heart, chose to bless us.  We have an opportunity to make a pretty significant choice to bless her back, and in light of this passage, I think any measure is worth being upright before God and man.  Thankfully we don’t have to find anyone’s sons and have them hanged.

I know Old Testament passages like this can be confusing. I still don’t understand why God would let those seven men die for sins they didn’t commit. But I also know He sees stuff I don’t. But what I love is when those old dusty musty stories come alive with conviction and truth for today.  Because He is the same yesterday, today, and forever.  And now I need to go, I have some checks to write :-).

Well today I am enjoying my first day at home as a free woman!  After finishing seminary, speaking at the women’s luncheon, then finishing the last of the theology papers to grade, I dropped off the papers at Multnomah and drove home a free woman! Done!!!  Today is the first day at home in four years, besides during vacations and so forth, when I’ve had no studying to do, no papers to write and/or grade, and no books to read.  This morning Dutch and I watched the excavator work next door, sat outside and watched dump trucks come and go, walked to the park and played in the barkdust, walked to to a nearby farm and watched the cows, and even watched a 20-minute chunk of Cars.  The washing machine is humming with laundry, and I never ever thought I’d say this, but I’m actually excited about ironing the dozen+ shirts that await me.  It’s SOOO nice to actually be able to do mindless domestic duties.  At that park earlier I stood, holding Heidi, with my face up to the sky, letting the sunshine wash over me, listening to Dutch’s peels of laughter as he ran around the park, savoring the sweet moment.  Savoring the ability to give undivided attention to the moment.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve loved seminary. In fact, secret’s out: I might go back. Yes, I know, insane.  I might go back next year and pursue another degree very slowly (like the 6-10 year plan).  I love it. I love studying, teaching, all that. But oh glorious day today that I get to be a mommy without one eye on the clock knowing I need to attack a massive paper. Oh glorious day that I can iron clothes during the kids’ naps.  Today I sat, all by myself after I put the kids down, and ate lunch without doing another darn thing. No multi-tasking!  I didn’t check my email, I wasn’t scarfing down the remnants of Dutch’s leftover cheese sandwich, I wasn’t bouncing Heidi. I was just sitting, staring out into the glorious sunshine, scooping up beans and cheese with my Jaunita’s chips.  Mmm. Sweet mindless bliss. 🙂

Nothing profound here, although I’m hoping to post something later about an intersting passage I read this morning…   But had to share my joy in this day, this first day having completed everything. At least everything for now.  We’ll see what tomorrow holds.

Do you ever struggle with something for a long time, or want something so bad for a long time, and then all of a sudden you notice that you’re like strangely ok and you don’t remember getting ok you just all of a sudden notice you are?  I noticed that tonight. I thought, “Wait, I’m ok, really ok–weird.”  I noticed that I just felt so content, so ok with not having a home.  We came home from our day of prayer event and arrived just as Nathan got home from his baseball game. Dutch threw his arms around Nathan’s legs as we asked him how it went (they won!).  As I went in the bathroom to brush my teeth I teased Elisabeth about getting her up in the morning (I’m taking them to school tomorrow).  I ran the dishwasher, filled up my water bottle, and collapsed into my amazingly comfortable bed.  What’s not to love and savor about this evening?  Sure Heidi sleeps in the closet, who cares? Sure my stuff is packed up and strewn in four different locations. It’s just stuff. And it’s not actually even that neat of stuff to tell you the truth.  I don’t know. I guess it’s funny sometimes how things that are SO hard sometimes can be totally ok at other times. I mean, we do still need to move by the end of the month (or soon after) because that was our agreement, but it’s more like a matter-of-fact thing, a thing of necessity, not a thing that’s connected to my heart. That make sense? It’s external.  (More on this in this post)

I really don’t know what God’s going to do. We’re going tomorrow to look at a house that’s just dropped its price significantly, but we just want wisdom.  It’s just a funny feeling because I’ve been dying for so long to have a dream house, and all of a sudden I notice I don’t dream of houses anymore.  I told Jeff last week, “I don’t have a dream house. I have a dream God.  I want to be in the middle of His adventure more than anything else.”  I’m not trying to sound all super spiritual–I’m sure in the next 24 hours I’ll be flat on my face crying over some ridiculousness or another.  But I guess it’s just weird when God gently does surgery on your heart and you don’t really notice until all of a sudden something feels different.

Anyway, we’ll see what our crazy awesome God is up to.  Right now I’m focusing and praying our Willamette Women’s Luncheon on Saturday where I have the super huge awesome privilege of speaking. Will you join me and pray that women will be blessed, touched, ministered to? For God’s glory and their good!  Thanks, goodnight.

Jeff just said, “Wow hon you haven’t blogged in awhile.”  I know. I know I know I know.  Right now my eyes are burning they’re so tired, the washing machine is humming, Heidi is asleep in the closet, and I’m feeling totally overwhelmed with preparing to speak at the women’s luncheon on Saturday. I know what I want to say but have no idea how to say it.  So I just sit here and pray. And wait.  And fold laundry.  And try not to look at the stack of Jeff’s shirts to iron, that is now overflowing the edge of the laundry basket.

Today I had my last mentor meeting, handed in my final tally of internship hours–all 140 of them–and picked up my cap, gown, and hood. This hooding thing is strange.  But that’s really irrelevant so we won’t go there.  Yes, it has been four long years finishing my master’s in seminary.  Yes, I’m excited to be done and to walk next Friday.  But our life is so full right now I can hardly focus my blurry eyes let alone celebrate.

Here’s a fun snapshot of how life is–in the past five days I have scrubbed butt paste off two dozen surfaces, toys, books, clothes, quilts, bedding, and body parts.  We had a marathon trip to McMinnville to get the last of our stuff, fix up some things, sign closing documents, and carted a trailer full of stuff off to park for five days. Jeff taught at multnomah, we havea stack of papers to grade, then we drove to Bend for a quick vacation before coming back Saturday, heading straight to church, staying up late to celebrate a birthday, heading to church services all morning Sunday, then a real marathon of delivering stuff to people’s houses to store for us, then going down to Corvallis to do a walk through with our renter who moved out and stage that house for sale.  No details are needed but let’s just say that trip was one of the most emotionally exhausting things I’ve done in a long time.  Jeff was mowing the lawn in the pouring down rain while I nursed Heidi on the floor and resorted to etertaining Dutch with Bob the Builder playing continuously on the laptop.  We ate peanut butter sandwiches Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday.  Yeah.  Today Heidi and I braved the torrential downpour and went to the registrar’s office, the library, the computer lab, the seminary building, and then had dinner with my mentor.   It was then, as I was sitting talking to my mentor about serious seminary matters when I shook my head and thought to myself, “Hm, that’s funny I only feel one earring dangling.”  As she spoke I slowly lifted my hands up casually to my ears, trying to be sublte.  Sure enough.  One and only one big dangly earring.  Awesome. Par for the course. Sure enough, I got home and there was the other one sitting on my nightstand. 🙂 So now I’m home and blurry eyed and asking God for grace to teach the women’s luncheon this Saturday.  SO excited for it–but so tired.

But in the middle of all this we had the sweetest time of refreshing.  An elder at church gave us a two night stay at Sunriver in their cabin.  I was totally dragging my heels about going–with so much going on, it kind of just felt like another thing on my to-do list. Plus packing for our family of four includes a LOT of diapers and clothes and toys and sippy cups.  In the midst of the busyness what suffered was apparently my attention to packing FOOD–we had two totino’s pizzas which I bought at walmart in Bend, two cans of soup, a loaf of bread with peanut butter and some oatmeal.  Mmm.  Nothing says luxurious vacation like sharing a can of soup with your toddler for dinner :-).

But it was SOOO great. I sound like I”m joking but I”m not. It was the most refreshing, sweet time we’ve experienced in so long. Just to sit in the car, with the kids occupied, and being able to actually talk, catch up, sing our hearts out to Chris Tomlin and Rend the Heavens, watch the fluffy white clouds against the brilliant blue Central Oregon sky.  We lounged in our sweats, spent hours at the fantastic kiddi wading pool at the Sunriver aquatic center, and laughed our heads off as Dutch splashed and “swam” and slid down the water slide and ran around like a crazy boy.  We hooked up with old friends, staying up late talking about how good our God is and what He’s doing in our lives.  We walked for miles, thanking God again and again for our double stroller.  We sipped tea. We napped.  We prayed.  We searched for houses online and dreamed and prayed some more.  It was SO good.

So no real lesson here, I Just wanted to touch base.  I’m drooling with anticipation of the wide open calendar I see in the very near future, after Saturday. For now I need to focus, study, pray, and be faithful, trusting God will meet His women on Saturday.  But in the midst of a really crazy time, I’m so thankful for times of refreshing.  And thankful for generous people who have Sunriver cabins. 🙂 However, just for the record, we’re not partial–we’ll take free vacations anywhere! Any offers?

I googled two things today: First, “Ok to use ground beef left out all night?”  Some of you are cringing.  In my whirlwind of putting away groceries I left the ground beef out in the garage on top of the fridge. Darn.  Don’t worry, thew it away.  Apparently others had asked the same question, so I found just the answer I needed.

The second item that I googled was: “How to clean butt paste off walls.”  Yielded no useful results whatsoever. Apparently I am the first woman to ask this question.

Right after I wrote my last post, I close my laptop feeling comtemplative and peaceful.  I sit down on the couch to read my Bible when I hear Dutch playing with his little toy garage while he should be napping.  For a second I thought I’d just ignore it and let him be, then thought better of it. “I better be consistent,” I tell myself and crack open his door for quick chiding.  As open the door I notice it smells like Boudreaux’s butt paste. Hm.  I look closer and narrow my eyes trying to register what I see.  My son is white.  I mean, he’s always been caucasian, but my son is WHITE.  Covered in WHITE.  His face, his hair, his clothes.  COVERED. I look closer and my mouth drops open.  The WALLS are white, his quilt is white, his dresser is white. Closer look–books, toys, pillow, carpet–EVERYTHING is covered in oily, thick, creamy white butt paste.  My heart sinks as I look down and see the enormous was-full tub of diaper cream…empty.

Mind you, we live with Dombrows…in their brand new house…with brand new walls…which are now covered in diaper cream!

I was so horrified I didn’t even know how to respond. I turned around, closed the door, and stood like a buffoon.  Finally I dialed my mom and told her what happened. “What do I do?!”  There was nothing else to do but go back in, discipline him, then have him go downstairs and tell Joy what he did.  I carried him downstairs, not wanting him to touch anything, and told Joy.

To make a long story short, we experienced grace today.  Joy laughed.  Laughed, and assured me it was ok. Not only that, she came in and helped me clean. I washed DUtch’s hair five times and still couldn’t get the paste out.  Tomorrow I’m going to try dish soap (cuts grease, right?).  We wiped down the walls, dresser, gathered up all the linens and toys…and now that task awaits me as we speak.

Two little nuggets from the situation. One was the beauty of grace. Later, after spending our afternoon scrubbing the smelly oily mess, Joy got down on the floor and played trucks with Dutch. Later this evening Nathan (their son and Dutch’s hero), made a powerpoint slideshow talking about all the fun things about Dutch, even including a picture of him.  He gathered us all up, both families, to sit in the office and watch the special presentation about his little miniature friend. That is grace.  When he least deserved it, Joy and Nathan both chose to bless my little son…despite his naughty curiosity.

And a little merciful kiss from God.  Though everything was covered, including all of Dutch’s books, the only book without a speck of paste on it was the book we’d checked out from the library.  God somehow kept the libarary book without a spot.  Though truly a mess, thank you Jesus that at least I don’t have to buy that stupid book! Little mercies along the crazy journey of mommyhood. 🙂

If you’re curious, you can see pics here. I better sign off now…I have some cleaning to do…

Have you ever had to be brave and strong and courageous for an intense period of time, and then when the moment was finally over you just crumbled into a heap of tears?  I remember in Brasil, when Tom Jones and I were leading a team in Rio de Janiero, one of the most dangerous cities in Brasil.  Earlier in the day Tom warded off a guy who was stalking me down the street, and then that night there was a murder shooting right outside our front door. The girls on the team were scared and hysterical, and we had to jump to attention and get everyone calmed down, figure out safety precautions, talk through things with people.  It was intense and it was critical that we carried the team through the emotion of it all. That night, when everyone was asleep and calmed down, I finally crumbled and quietly cried myself to sleep.

I remember during the first Spring Drama, which I wrote about in When God Broke My Heart (right, under Featured), it was several months of incredible intensity. Rehearsals, prayer times, planning, fundraising, planning the alter call after the event.  I remember in one of our church prayer meetings they were laying hands on me and Kristen Wilson, our director, and praying for us, and afterwards one of the elders said God had laid a song on his heart to share with me.  Later he emailed me the words, The Warrior is a Child. They stuck with me ever since.  And when that event was over, having fought and strove and worked and prayed and given, I too lay at home and cried. Over. Done.  Blessed by God’s word but unspeakably overwhelmed with the enormity of it all.

I would hardly consider myself a warrior, but let’s face it–life as a woman called to serve our God with reckless abandon, as well as serve and love our husbands, care for our children, and fulfill the myriad responsibilities that come with womanhood–this life requires us to be warriors.  And the truth of the matter is that we are warriors.  We fool ourselves when we whine and complain and insist that it’s too hard or that we can’t do it.  We can do it because God has called us to. But inside, don’t we all feel like the secret truth is that we’re nothing but scared little girls?

Sunday night I finished my last seminary assignment.  Last.  Four long amazing stressful wonderful miraculous years.  Two children.  Four moves. Living with people, working, serving, balancing.  God’s faithfulness has been so amazing that as I sat in my mentor’s office for the last time last night I wept.  I wept because I’m tired. I wept because I’ve poured my life into this for four years and now i”m done.  I wept because God is so good and has shown Himself so miraculously in my life that it brought me to my knees.  I wept because I feel like God has called me to a warrior life, and the truth is I’m nothing but a child. I’ma little girl. Weak. Scared. Tired. And yet my blessed mentor, in her amazing way, reminded me of the call of a warrior. That we are called to be warriors.  That though it might feel like we can’t hold on one more moment in whatever we’re called to. We can.  We can hold on a little longer. We can do it.  We can be faithful to whatever God has called us to. Even though the warrior is a child.  In fact, because the warrior is a child.

Lately I've been winning battles left and right
But even winners can get wounded in the fight
People say that I'm amazing
Strong beyond my years
But they don't see inside of me
I'm hiding all the tears

They don't know that I go running home when I fall down
They don't know who picks me up when no one is around
I drop my sword and cry for just a while
'Cause deep inside this armor
The warrior is a child

Unafraid because His armor is the best
But even soldiers need a quiet place to rest
People say that I'm amazing
Never face retreat
But they don't see the enemies
That lay me at His feet

They don't know that I go running home when I fall down
They don't know who picks me up when no one is around
I drop my sword and and cry for just a while
'Cause deep inside this armor
the warrior is a child

They don't know that I go running home when I fall down
They don't know who picks me up when no one is around
I drop my sword and look up for a smile
'Cause deep inside this armor
Deep inside this armor
Deep inside this armor
The Warrior is a Child

Do you ever feel like this?  We are blessed, dear women, to be both warrior and child.  I pray you’re encouraged today to be both.

Jeff and I rarely watch movies because it seems you have to see about a dozen duds, filled with sex and stupidity, before seeing anything worth your time.  Besides, there’s not much time in the evening to watch a movie in between 8pm Dutch bedtime and 8:30pm self-imposed Mommy bedtime! 🙂  But this week I had the joy of being at the beach with my dear Aunt and Uncle and cousin.  Jeff joined us Friday and we decided we could be wild and crazy and actually stay up late enough to watch a movie.  They had Slumdog Millionaire. Never heard of it. (I know, I know, I’m ridiculously out of touch with the movie scene, I saw that it was like Best Picture for 2008 or something).

Wow.  Wow wow wow.  By way of warning, there is a lot of violence, and it’s not a light, fun, easy to watch movie.  But wow.  I love movies that are eye-opening and this one surely was that.

A few things have haunted me since.  The movie taught a truth that God promises to His children. That He works all things for good (Romans 8:28).  The main character, Jamal, is violently interrogated as to how on earth he managed to know the answers to every single question on the Indian version of “Who wants to be a millionaire?”  With each question, Jamal recounts, and we witness, the hair-raising, sickening, tragic accounts of how his life growing up in the slums as an orphan prepared him in miraculous ways for each and every question he encountered. It’s moving beyond words.  If only we had a movie of our lives, and perhaps someday we will, I believe we would be astounded as we see the ways that the painful and at times torturing things God allows us to endure actually turn out to be the very things that better us, bless us, bring us “riches” so to speak.  We don’t necessarily become millionaires, but we benefit because all of life is Father-Filtered.

Secondly, and related to that, I was reminded again of the beautiful sovereignty of God.  In the movie they would call it destiny.  The ultimate reason that Jamal, the Indian slumdog, won the 10 million rupees was because “it is written.”  It is written.  Jamal was given the choice over and over throughout his life to choose right.  His life is contrasted with his brother, Salim, who did not make the right choices.  But while Jamal made the wise choices, his “destiny” was written.  As children of God we can rest in this!  Though we are called to choose, and it hinges on our choices, “it is written” for us!  God’s beautiful destiny is written for us.  We have a purpose.  We are called by His name.

And lastly, a certain line has stayed with me.  When Jamal finally finds beautiful Latika, the little girl from the slums who was separated from them as children, he holds her face in his hands.  “I love you.” He finally says. “So what?” is here reply.

So what?  She loved him too. She never forgot or quit hoping that he would return. But so what? What could they do?  Love or no love, she was the prisoner.  She had no choice, no money, no identity. She was hardly anything more than a slave, a concubine really.  So what?  So what could Jamal’s love do for her?

I don’t want to give away the end, but in essence Jesus Christ has found us. He has bought us, delivered us, searched to the ends of the earth for our heart, for our affections.  So what?  What does this mean? How will we respond?  Today Joel preached one phrase from John 3:!6, “So loved the world.”  Love.  Love always required action.  God so loved the world THAT He did something. When we love God we will obey HIs commands.

So what? So everything. The love of Christ changes everything.  When He finds us (we don’t find Him, by the way!), it changes everything.  We are regenerated, made new, by the power of His love. We are set free from the bondage of the slums of sin.  We, the slumdog, become a millionaire, rich in grace, rich in life.  Oh how perfect are His ways, how precious His love, His grace.  His love changes everything.  Believe this today.

Today Jeff and I had the joy of having breakfast with a couple we had never really gotten to know before today.  Circumstances worked out that we had a leisurely breakfast date and just enjoyed hearing about each other’s life.  They’ve been married 25 years and are the epitome of the solid marriage. What was amazing was to hear that 25 years ago they eloped just days after she graduated from high school, leaving a note for parents and running off to California with nothing but $800 to their name.  In order to do this she gave up a full-ride scholarship to a prestigious university, choosing instead to live in a cockroach infested studio apartment and work a full-time job to help make ends meet.  All I could say in response to the story was to tell the husband, “Wow, she must have really loved you!”

But what I noticed was that as they told the story, they recounted it with joy. The wife certainly wasn’t sitting there stoicly saying, “oh yes. Quite the sacrifice i made.”  She didn’t do it out of duty, out of obligation. She did it because she was head over heels in love with this guy and didn’t care about cockroaches as long as she had her man by her side. She happily CHOSE cockroaches over college. Why?  Because of her desire for him.

Desire is so powerful!  Desire, love, compels us to give up incredible luxury, inspires us to risk everything for that which we love.  And only true love can make us want to do it. No duty, no sacrifice, only love.

Any of you who have spent much time around me know that I love love love John Piper.  If you stumble upon a book he’s written, BUY it and READ it. If you stumble upon a sermon of his, LISTEN to it.

Piper’s big thing is overcoming sin by superior pleasure in God, enjoying God.  Like CS Lewis, Piper insists that our desires aren’t too strong, they are too weak.  CS Lewis said, “Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak.  We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered to us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.”

Piper’s point is that when we’re in love with something, giving our life for that thing is no duty, no sacrifice, it’s what we want to do! Only love.

All of these thoughts are swirling around in my mind this weekend.  I long, I ache so much for my heart to be more enraptured by God.  For my affections to be overwhelmed by Him and His glory.  Too often I am that child making mud pies.  I know this because I’m so easily swayed by circumstances.  Happiness ebbs and flows.  I fear what will happen if our house doesn’t sell.  I get upset over criticisms.  I feel insecure far too often. My desires are things like comfort, security, respect.

But I think deep down my heart just longs for heaven.  Worshipping God in song is the closest I can feel to what it will be like, when the things of the world grow strangely dim in the light of His glory and grace.  When, like the woman I talked to, everything in the world pales in comparison to just getting to be with my Man, my Heavenly Father.  When giving up everything–comforts, luxury, financial gain–is no sacrifice, no duty, not a thing to be dreaded and feared, but just love, just joyful, exuberant, whole-hearted love.  Like the giddy bride eloping with her man.

I know it’s not about feelings. Giddy feelings are not what I’m talking about. But perhaps we’re all not affected enough, that is our affections have not been awakened to the glory of our beautiful God.  Tonight at church Joel preached two words. Just two words, from John 3:16.  “For God.”  The entire sermon was on God, His existance and how the world proclaims the glory of God.  As a video was played showing the splendor of creation, tears streamed down my cheeks.  He IS glorious. He IS beautiful. He IS so magnificent and awesome and worthy of our lives. How I long for my life, for your life, to be more affected by adoration for Him.

And when our hearts are captivated by Him, we may find ourselves choosing cockroaches over college, so to speak.  And not out of duty, nor sacrifice, but only reckless love.

Do you ever find yourself surprised by joy?  Find that you set out simply enduring and end up truly enjoying?  I think sometimes I have this weird view that there’s a list of “hard things” that someone must endure. Each person’s list is different, but I envision God sitting up in heaven with his checklist of “Kari’s list of hard things.”  I envision him sitting there with glasses resting down low on his nose, with his pen checking off items.  “Ok, let’s see here.  Nightmare church situation–check.  Living in a windowless pit with rotten bathroom floor–check.  Unemployed and living with parents–check.  Seminary with two children–check.”  And because of this, when the house we lived in sold and we had to move in with another family–I saw it as another item to check off.  They’re wonderful and I wasn’t dreading it, but I admit I treated it kind of like another item on that divine checklist.   Like God was saying, “Ok, hmm.  They already lived with their parents. But they haven’t lived with their pastor yet. Let’s try that one! That oughtta be a new twist.”  I thought of it as some test that I had to pass before I’d “earn” a house of my own.

And yes, the first week was tough for all of us.  The church moving, us moving, them moving, getting adjusted to each other, being WAY overtired, and me being totally stressed out over my crazy two-year-old and my non-sleeping newborn. Yes, I cried every single day.

But I would be lying if I said that this was a trial.  Tonight after my internship meeting at seminary, I got in my car and started driving and I found myself so excited to get home and see my “family”–my whole family.  All 8 of us!  And that’s so not like me.  I usually feel like the only way to really relax and wind down is to be alone, but I find myself loving the times when we’re all together.  Joy and I meet every Tuesday to go over schedules, coordinate meals, and pray together, and these incredibly sweet times have knit our hearts together like nothing I could have imagined.  After our long and crazy Easter weekend, with 4 services and over 2,000 people (including kids) coming through the church doors, we were all ready for bed by 8pm Sunday night. After tucking in our 4 little ones, we stood downstairs, joined hands, and prayed thanking God for His amazing work that weekend. WHat an incredible blessing!  The four of us, partnering together for the gospel, and experiencing profound community, vulnerability, and relationship so far beyond what we could even have manufactured any other way.  What I thought was a trial has been a blessing.

I’m learning so much too. I’m taking notes as Joy trains her children. I’m being discipled in life.  And I only have to cook 2 nights a week!  The shared cooking responsibilities has turned out to be a huge blessing for both of us! 

So of course it’s a dance we’re still learning. Coordinating laundry, keeping Dutch from getting too riled up while playing with the kids, taking turns holding Heidi when she cries during dinner. We’ve all made adjustments. But on the whole I have to say that I feel like I’m getting a glimpse of what community really means.

“How good and pleasant it is when brothers live together in unity!”   Psalm 133:1

Perhaps God doesn’t have a checklist…perhaps He jus wants to bless us.  I pray He’s glorified through this house situation, and that perhaps even others would be inspired to experience community and “get into” each other’s lives in ways that go beyond the norm.  We might just be pleasently surprised.