LiveDifferent Challenge (22): Use Stuff, Love People; Enjoy Things, Worship God

I will not lie–I’m loving having a home.  Sometimes it feels a little funny, when I pull in the driveway I still feel like I’m visiting my brother.  But filled with our things, and with Jeff and Dutch, it has quickly become home to me.  I have however, noticed a very subtle change during this unpack (as mentioned before, I’ve done this 8 times in our married life).  I’ve noticed that stuff has become markedly more exterior than ever before.  Let me explain.

I love beauty.  I’ve finally come to terms with the fact that it is natural and normal to relish and enjoy the beauty in things. God does.   So naturally, my goal as a wife and mother is not only to create a place of utility, with functional furniture and easily accessible dishes, but to also create a place of beauty, tranquility, and peace.  I firmly believe that that is a right and worthy goal.  It has actually been really fun getting this house ready because our very goal is to have the house showcase-ready for potential buyers and weekend open-houses.  So it’s actually my responsibility to have the house beautiful, and is a perfect excuse to exercise my creativity in home decor. But, as I’ve unpacked and cleaned, arranged, hung pictures, fluffed pillows, folded towels, I’ve noticed that though there is certainly a joy, a very deep and profound joy, in creating this beautiful haven we now call home, it’s strangely exterior to my heart.  Before, keeping and beautifying our home was very much part of me, and of course it still is to an extent, but it no longer has any bearing on who I am as a person.  My house does not define me.  And in that, I’m surprised by the fact that I no longer love my stuff.  I don’t!  I don’t love my clothes, I don’t love my furniture, and I don’t love my house!  They are wonderful, beautiful, functional, useful, and I thank God each day for all of the stuff that I have that carries me through my day.  I am thankful for the car that runs, the beautiful dining room table that was purchased 8 months ago for a song at a furniture sale, that Oneida dishes I found at Goodwill yesterday for 99cents.  I am thankful for these things, but I don’t love them.  I use them and enjoy them. I love people, and worship God.

I’d like to think that I’m just way behind the curve and the rest of the world has already mastered this concept.  But sadly, I think we’re all still learning.  Right now I’m studying for the upcoming retreat, exploring the final session topic: Enjoying Fulfillment: How to enjoy God’s blessing without worshipping them.  Sadly, in our culture we do worship stuff.  We love stuff and use people.  We get married and use our spouse to provide us happiness, then when the spouse no longer fills that use and fails to make us happy, we move onto another spouse who we then use to make us happy again.  We use our friends, family, co-workers.  We engage in relationships and friendships so long as that person contributes to our well-being. As soon as they deplete our emotional resources or do not contribute to our happiness, we move on.  We use people.

And sadly, we love things.  We are notorious for the delusional belief that more stuff will make us happy.  Now that we’ve moved, we were planning on taking a trip to Ikea to get inexpensive things we need for the house.  Our city’s Ikea has been open for over a year, but we’ve never gone because I didn’t want to create discontentment in my heart about not having a home (like going shopping when you have no money).  So we figured now we’d go and find stuff we need.  But strangely, as I’ve thought this week about taking a trip there, I cannot think of any stuff that we need.  (Well, we need a plastic shower curtain liner, which will run me about $1.50, and we need a little curtain rod for Dutch’s room, which is $3.99.)  Besides that, I can’t for the life of me think of anything that we need.  Blessed state!  The mistake I (and all Americans) usually make is that we love stuff, so we love to go to stores to see what we need, because we love to see all the stuff that we supposedly need.

So, I have not arrived, but I am beginning to see a tiny hair of progress by the grace of God.  The clothing fast (I’m almost at 5 months without buying clothes!), the year of living with mom and dad, the jobless state that has been our life :-), I’m beginning to see how God was slowly extracting poisonous roots of materialism from my heart. I know there are probably still some pretty stubborn ones in there, but I’ll trust God to continue to root those out.

So, where am I going with all this?  I suppose I’m just challenging myself, and you if you wish, to make a conscious effort this week to simply use stuff and enjoy people.  Don’t use the people in your life–love them unconditionally.  Don’t love the stuff you own, use it.  Enjoy the things that you have, but gaze upon the beauty of the Lord and worship Him, the one who made all things.  How can we do this practically?  For me this means being content with the state of our home, without looking for more things that we “need”.  It means pouring my time and effort into being with people, ministering, working on my notes for the retreat, playing with Dutch, talking with Jeff.  It means spending less time thinking about how much weight I’ve gained (6 lbs. since my last prenatal appointment–good grief! Ok, done thinking about it.), or how all of Dutch’s pants are too short and he looks kind of dorky.

Use and enjoy the things that you have.  Love the people in your life (even the difficult ones!), and worship the God who gives us all things freely to enjoy.  Worship Him alone.

Relationships Re-aligned

I almost don’t know where to start because the cup of my heart is overflowing and it won’t just pour out in a neat little spout, it’s just running out all over the place.  My heart is full.  I do have a migraine right now (I think we’re going to name this baby Migraina or Migraino depending upon the gender), but I’m so blessed it kind of doesn’t matter.  On the one hand I will say this, moving with a toddler, while pregnant, is not advisable. 🙂  I asked Jeff last night, “Why is it that this move seems 100 times harder than any other we’ve done?” (we’ve moved 8 times in a little over 5 years).  I knew it wasn’t pregnancy because we moved while I was pregnant last time.  Ah! Then the light went on.  Dutch!  It is my 20-month old wild man who is causing the challenge!  It is a blessed, hilarious, sweet, wouldn’t-trade-it-for-a-moment challenge but it is a challenge nonetheless. Last time we moved Dutch was immobile. Ah but now.  Now!  It is an adventure!  Then little Migraina/Migraino decides to make his/her presence known, and alas, the boxes are taunting me with their still-full state.

But, I am blessed!  I feel like I’ve gone to the relational chiropractor and had them aligned.  Let me explain.  First, my parents.  If you only know me through this blog, which has only existed for a year, perhaps you don’t understand the amazing depth of love and relationship I have with my parents…because I whined so much about living there.  But while it was hard to not have my own home, and hard at times to feel like I was in high school all over again, I adore, admire, and cherish my parents above all over relationships, except Jeff.  They sacrifice to no end. Last week my dad fell off a ladder and badly bruised his chest.  Insisting he was fine, he and Jeff moved our entire household, without any help. They carried everything–beds, couch, dressers.  Then, yesterday afternoon, upon my mom’s prodding he finally went to the doctor because the pain in his ribs was still so severe.  He had two broken ribs!  With two broken ribs he moved our entire household!  He made four trips in with his truck so that we wouldn’t have to rent a van, he drove us to our cousin’s house so we could pick up the free couch she gave us (answer to prayer–free couch!).  He fixed the dresser drawer that flew off the truck and was driven over (!), and glued together Dutch’s airplane toy that was broken.  His love and service to us is unending.

Then there’s my mom.  My relationship with my mom is that of friendship.  One of the things that was hardest for me living there was that I felt like I’d lost my friendship with my mom.  Whereas before I would call her, ask advice, email her, etc. when I lived there that was strangely lost.  It was the same as when two friends move in and become roommates and then realize they are no longer friends, they’re just roommates.  I grieved over that when we lived there, but a wise woman assured me we’d be friends again, and even better because of the year we’d gone through sharing a kitchen (!).  And it’s true. I just hung up the phone with my mom, and it’s as if our friendship has been re-aligned.  Now we have the freedom to be friends again.  I’m so thankful to have her back, as strange as that might sound.

And perhaps the relationship that’s most sweetly re-aligned is that of my sweet husband.  (ok now the tears are coming)  This might sound like an exaggeration, but I feel like we’re newlyweds again (except now with a toddler and a growing belly!).  There is a sacredness about sharing every detail of life together, about forging ahead, just the two of you, sharing challenges, hopes, sorrows.  It was no one’s fault, but that was missing this past year, and I was afraid we’d never get it back.  This morning as he left for work, I just held him in my arms, speechless with how proud I am of him, how much I admire and love him, how thankful I am for his constancy, support, and wisdom.  Last night I was struggling with something, and it was so sweet to be able to curl up next to him on the couch and just ask for his advice, to hear his wisdom, the way he can see through the drama details and see to the heart of the issue.  I know this past year was soooo good for us, but I have to say I’m thankful to have our relationship re-aligned.

I do miss seeing Dutch playing outside with my dad. I miss the river, the horses, the smell of the country, the sight of Dutch curled up with my mom reading a book.  But we’re headed out there this weekend, and I’ll savor those sights and smells then.  Right now I’m just humbled, thankful, and blessed by my relationships re-aligned.

LiveDifferent Challenge (21): Turn up the Heat

Today it’s supposed to reach 104 degrees, so of all days this is not the time to try to convince you that Oregon is a cold state.  But it is.  Relationally that is.  Now I love Oregon.  I bleed green, I love the trees, the rolling hills, the lack of sales tax, the fact that we have mountains and oceans just a few hours apart.  I love everything about Oregon, even the rain.  Our little stint in California only made me realize that much more that nothing save a voice from heaven could get me to leave my beloved Pacific Northwest. I love it here.

Since I’ve lived here my whole life, I’ve become pretty familiar with the climate–I know that summer doesn’t start until the 4th of July and isn’t over until the end of September. I know that it’s always sunny over Finals week of Winter term, then rains again all of April.  But it wasn’t until recently that I became more aware of the relational climate here.  One of my professors moved here from Texas (since that’s where DTS is, pretty much all professors move here from Texas), and remarked how it took almost a year of adjustment to get used to the cool unfriendliness of Oregonians. What?  I think of myself as a friendly person, so this caught me off guard.  Are we really unfriendly?  My travels have included London, Paris, and the California Bay Area, and Oregon is really friendly compared to those areas!

But then I took a trip and visited my brother and his family in Utah.  I’d heard their stories–they moved there and after their first visit to church they’d had 3-4 invites over to dinner at different couple’s houses.  They had neighbors bring treats over, offers to help them move in, and even had a neighbor bring over little girl hand-me-down clothes for their daughter.  I thought of our church in our previous town (which was wonderful, this isn’t again that church), and realized that we were there almost two years before we were ever invited over to dinner anywhere (and that was from the pastor himself!).   Then, we moved here, and Jeff and I were just marveling that we’ve been going here for almost 14 months and only once have we been invited over for dinner by someone from church, and that was from a high school friend after we’d had them over for dinner.  We’ve had tons of people over to our house, so it’s not as if we’re sitting around waiting for people to befriend us… it’s just made us think.

Now perhaps you’re thinking, “Uh, if nobody invites you over there’s probably something wrong with you!”  Perhaps you’re right.  We’ve made plenty of connections with people, but what I’m addressing here is the fact that perhaps there is a cooler relational culture in the NW.  But regardless of where you live, the fact of the matter is that the church must permeate the culture.  Must.  The church is not peripheral to the world, the world is peripheral to the church.  No matter what the culture is like in which we live, our job, as Christians, is to rise above any cultural weaknesses and be the hands and feet of Christ to those around us.

Thinking about this, I also read a post about the Hawaiian concept of ‘Ohana (it’s a really great post), and thought more about how Hawaiians seem to understand the concept of hospitality.  And we all know that the Southerners got it down.  But again, it seems to me that regardless of where we live, love, service, and hospitality should mark our lives as Christians.  This is to truly LiveDifferent.

So our challenge this week is to look around.  Do you see someone new? Invite them over for dinner. You don’t have a nice house for entertaining? Who cares? They won’t!  People are so blessed to be welcomed, no one is evaluating your house decor.  Hear about someone having a baby? Take them meals.  Someone moving?  Help them load boxes (you can help us!) :-).  Someone new move in down your street? Take them a welcome basket and let them know you’re happy they’re there.  It takes so little to really bless people.  I remember so clearly the little acts of love that have blessed me.  When our neighbor, Tony, brings us fresh fish from his Mexico trips.  When our friends from McMinnville brought us the hot meal after Dutch was born and we devoured it like wolves.  When a guy from Jeff’s work, whom he hardly knew, drove an hour to come help us move.  When I walk down the driveway and the neighbors wave and smile.

It might be hot right now, but I suggest that we turn up the relational heat a little and thaw out the coolness that can characterize our culture. In a country of independence, reach out and help those who need it, and receive from those who offer to help you. Invite, bless, give, help.  Choose to warm up your little sphere of influence for the glory of God.

His Benefits

This morning I read this, one of my favorite lines of Scripture:

Bless the LORD, O my soul; and all that is within me, bless His holy name!

Bless the LORD, O my soul, and forget not all His benefits.  (Ps. 103:1-2)

Now this is obvious, but why would God tell us to “forget not” all His benefits?  Because we forget!  We’re called to remember, recount, retell, and rejoice in all that God has done for us!  You might be thinking, well it’s easy for you to do right now because you just got good news that you’re moving.  But it was last weekend, before I knew anything of any move, that God really showed me the importance of thankfulness (read Repenting…again).  So, on the eve of our move, as we transition to this new season, I wanted to reflect and review these past 13+ months, and forget not all His benefits during this time.  The list could go on forever. He’s 20…

  1. We saved over $20,000 in mortgage and bills by living here (I guess technically we didn’t save it because we don’t have it, but we didn’t spend that much!).
  2. Dutch has the most amazing relationship with Oma and Papa that will never be taken away.
  3. Jeff and I have weathered significant storms and our roots are deeper.
  4. “I had heard of [God] by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees [Him].” Job 42:5
  5. We’ve met sweet and precious people out here in this small town.
  6. I learned that I am not defined by what I do.
  7. Jeff learned he is not defined by what he does.
  8. We pared down our belongings significantly and got organized!
  9. Jeff has established a wonderful relationship with our dear Pastor Dale, friend and mentor.
  10. I had help with Dutch and the house through my horrid first-trimester sickness.
  11. We were able to share daily joys and sorrows with my parents.
  12. We learned priceless life lessons from them about selflessness, humility, and godliness.This blog was birthed!!!!
  13. We’ve had the glorious rushing river right outside our bedroom window.
  14. We’ve had countless hours throwing rocks in the river, feeding hay to the horsies, walking hundreds of miles up and down the driveway.
  15. We’ve picked berries, planted a garden, harvested loads of basil for fresh pesto, patronized the library (!).
  16. Jeff has racked up hundreds of miles on his bike riding too and from work.
  17. I’ve enjoyed my share of lazy hours lounging in the pool reading novels.
  18. I learned that the world will not fall apart if the refrigerator is not clean.
  19. We have a million memories we will look back on and laugh about for years and years to come.

I wish there were words to somehow convey how incredibly indebted I am to God and to my parents for their grace.  God, gentle, loving, tender, forgiving, but firm, refusing to just give me my own way, but loving me enough to take me through the fire, letting the dross rise to the surface, revealing the ugliness I’d rather cover up.  My parents, endlessly patient, never taking offense no matter how cross a mood I was in, never demanding their own way, always ready to serve, help, love, give.  Ever living to bless us.  I pray that Jeff and I can be 1/2 the godly parents and grandparents that Bill and Karen Zyp are.  I am humbled beyond words by their lives (and I’ve seen them up close!)

So, this season is closing…we head to the beach tomorrow morning with other family, and be sure to check out tomorrow’s LiveDifferent Post on Permeating Culture, but I’ll be unplugged Saturday and Sunday, and from then on I’ll be writing from a new spot.  New adventures ahead, new challenges, joys, struggles, lessons.  Stay tuned.  Thanks for reading, and consider today His benefits and forget them not.

Conflicted

I am lying here in bed, in the pitch dark with a throbbing migraine, but compelled to write because, well, you know, I’m always compelled to write.  My migraine is due to the fact that I spent a large portion of the day crying.  What on earth is wrong with me, you wonder :-).  Now, looking back, I am thoroughly exhausted and utterly content … because my tears showed me some things about God and about myself.

It was odd to find out that we were moving, so suddenly (on Monday!), and was a little anticlimactic after all the waiting and anticipating.  I’d sort of built up an idea (read: expectation) that in a huge flurry of events we would get a job, and then perhaps the heavens would open up and rain down great baskets full of money, and then we would march off and buy a home and live happily ever after. 🙂 Hm… So I was thrilled of course that we are getting to move, but it also felt a little odd: still not having a full-time job, moving into another family member’s home, and knowing that the arrangment will only last a very short time, like a few months.  So it just felt weird.  Please don’t get me wrong!  I’m not disappointed and I’m not ungrateful.  I am thrilled.  It is a beautiful home and I’m still in awe of their generosity.  This is an amazing answer to prayer. I’m just being honest that it felt weird.

But I knew it was more than that that was tugging at me.  Last night I packed for awhile then went to bed, and lay awake for more than four hours … and cried.  I didn’t even know exactly why I cried, and I was so confused because I was supposed to be so happy! My dream was coming true!  So today I spent the day packing and had this odd feeling like I was running away from myself, or running away from my thoughts or feelings or something, but I just kept working at a feverish pace (read: coping mechanism) and was fine.  Around 2pm my dad said, “Why don’t you take some time to lie down, you don’t want to overdo it,” and I knew he was right so I went upstairs and lay down on our bed.  Unfortunately then what I was running from caught up with me, and waves of weeping swept over me like I have not wept in ages–truly–not even when I was sad lately and crying to Jeff.  LIke weeping the kind that chokes you and you sputter and cough and curl up in the fetal position.  That kind of crying.  It was like I was grieving a tragic death of a loved one.  But since I don’t know what I think until I write and I didn’t trust myself to write something presentable enough for blogging, I wrote an email to my husband:

Well since I can’t blog about this kind of stuff [ha! i guess i am] I thought I would just write you an email.  I can’t figure out why I feel so conflicted about this move.  On the one hand, I’m thrilled.  All I’ve wanted was to move out on our own, and now that’s happening.  But for some reason the reality of leaving here, of knowing that this is basically Dutch’s little dream-come-true haven where he gets to play in the river, the tractor, the pool, and sandbox, with Papa and Oma, on the swing and the slide and with the horsies and see the jeeps and run around the yard, and all that will be gone…the fact that my parents won’t get to wake up to the sound of Dutch’s little feel running around the kitchen.  It’s good for US to leave, but it just makes me so sad for them.  They are so selfless, they serve us and never put themselves first, but I know it’s going to hurt so much for them to have Dutch gone.   Plus I’m scared–can I do it? Can I keep the place looking good, can I be a fun playmate for dutch when he’s used to playing with Papa and Oma all day? I don’t feel like I’ll ever be enough for him.  He’s so used to getting read to and played with and I’m afraid he won’t be as happy there with only me.  I just feel scared and sad and sort of happy all at the same time and I don’t know what to do.
I guess I just needed to tell you.

—-

I also started getting scared that by living back on our own I’d just get caught back up in life, in homemaking and decorating and cooking, and that this sweet, desperate relationship with my sweet Jesus would grow distant.  Would I still be able to write if I’m not miserable? 🙂  Will I lose the sweet fellowship of suffering if we move out and things get easier?

The resolution to my conflicted heart came through the sweet voices of those I love most–my husband, my mom, and my dad.  After writing to Jeff I swallowed my pride (it took a while), and went downstairs, puffy eyed and still crying, and found my mom. Like a little girl I shuffled up to her and managed to choke out the words, “Can I talk to you?”  She led me to the couch and I collapsed in her arms, like I haven’t done for years, and just wept and choked and sobbed. I poured out all my fears and confessed how rotten and selfish I felt for wishing to move out when it meant taking Dutch away from them and how selfless they were and how scared I was that I’d never be enough for Dutch on my own, that he’d never again be as happy as he was living here. My dad soon came in a joined us, and I continued to pour outr my scared little heart to them.  They, of course, were the best.  They encouraged me and cheered me on in the way only they can. Then my husband wrote me the most amazing email, bolstering my strength and faith.  I am the richest woman, to be surrounded by such love.

So I know this is all over the road, but I wanted to share the conflict of my heart.  The longing for the new thing, but the grieving over what must be lost.  The fear over how to embark on a new season without losing the sweet lessons of the past season.  The uncertainty of continuing to walk forward, when only one step at a time is illuminated on the path ahead.  And yes, I know pregnancy hormones can contribute as well.  I’m a little scared because our new home has a Taco Del Mar and a Burgerville right across the street–um, can you say 80-pound-pregnancy-weightgain? 🙂

Goodnight.  I’m now exhausted, content, and thankful for the people who love, listen, and help me along the path.  And in response to dear Joanne’s comment, I PROMISE that I will NOT lose my love for writing and blogging and abandon you all to go back to homemaking.  Homemaking is fun, but nothing compares to the joy of living authentically, hurting, loving, giving, receiving, and writing about it all along the journey.  Goodnight…and as always, thanks for reading.

We're Moving!

I’m still a little in shock.  Oh how things can change in a day.  Some family of ours, who live in another state, still own a home here that they’ve been renting out.  Now they have put it up for sale, and are graciously allowing US to rent it for 1/2 price, provided we keep it beautiful and clean to show it for prospective buyers. Yeah, that’s right, HALF PRICE rent, which is less than any apartment we could ever find.  And here’s the miracle…because of that half price rent we can afford to live on the 1/2 time salary that Jeff is on, until we find something else.  Is that not incredible? I mean, it’ll still be tight, but it’s a HOUSE for crying out loud, we can skimp on groceries! 🙂  Plus, this new location is WAY closer to school, so it’ll make commuting to classes easier, and it’s in town, so it won’t be as difficult to live with one car.  In fact, Jeff could even take the bus to school from the house.  Can I get a hallelujah?! 

Anyway, it’s so weird now, realizing that in one week we will live in a different place, after all this time. It’s definitely still a very temporary situation, since the house could sell any day, but we’re so thankful for however many days/weeks/months we get to live there!  God’s taking care of us one step at a time…just like the loving Father that He is.  Better go now, got a lot of packing to do… 🙂

The God of Disappointment

Ok, so I’m really no good at keeping secrets (my own secrets–I am good at keeping other people’s secrets) because I get so excited about things God shows me I have to share them.  John Piper once said that if you find yourself, when you are studying and reading God’s Word, constantly thinking of ways to communicate those truths to others, then you can pretty much bet that you’re a teacher at heart.  That hit me like a ton of bricks. Ok, guilty as charged. I’m a teacher.

So I mentioned before I’m teaching at this women’s retreat (Kelli please just act surprised when I share this stuff with the ladies there!), and for the past few weeks I have been absolutely spinning my wheels at studying. NOTHING is happening. I’m praying, reading, studying, and it’s like I have this bag over my head and I can see nothing.  So frustrating.  So I kept waiting and praying and today I’m studying and the light is finally turning on! Thank you, God.  God always reminds me that it is His Spirit that does the work because I literally am nothing and have nothing to say until His Spirit illuminates His Word for me.

So anyway, we are talking at the retreat about Expectancy without Expectation, and the first session is on Disappointments.  Who of us hasn’t keenly felt disappointments?  I’ve mentioned before I feel like this entire year has been one long disappointment.  But I’ve never found a book entitled “The God of Disappointment”…but right now I’m tempted to write one!  Because check this out, if you look at Scripture, God is all about disappointing people!  I looked up the word disappointment in my dictionary and it said, (tada!) “Thwarted Expectation”.  God is in the business of thwarting our expectations so that He can do greater and more glorious works than we ever imagined.  Hooray!  Not convinced yet? Check out these examples:

  1. Abraham: God promises he will be the father of many nations right? Then what?  He can’t have kids. He’s disappointed. Expectations thwarted. He then gets so frustrated he takes matters into his own hands and has Ishmael, the child of the flesh, through his servant Hagar. Bickering and grief ensue.
  2. Joseph: God shows him in a dream that his brothers will bow down to him as ruler.  He winds up dumped in a pit then sold to the Egyptians, then spends 14 years in a prison, wrongly accused of harassing Potipher’s wife, then forgotten by the cupbearer, forsaken.  Disappointed.  Thwarted Expectations.
  3. Moses: God will make him the deliverer of Israel.  Then what? He kills an Egyptian and there’s a warrant out for his head, basically.  He winds up spending 40 long years living with his father-in-law in the desert (hey, that sounds familiar!).  Disappointed.  Expectations thwarted.
  4. The children of Israel: God is going to deliver them from the Egyptians and the hand of Pharaoh, so after the exhilarating plagues and parting of the Red Sea, then what?  Left to wander in the wilderness for forty years while the entire complaining generation is slowly killed off.  Disappointed.  Thwarted Expectations.
  5. David: God will make him king, anoints him through the prophet Samuel.  Then what? Saul tries to have him killed, and he spends 10-14 years living in caves in the desert, trying to escape from the hand of Saul.  Disappointed. Expectations thwarted.
  6. The Disciples: God will send a Messiah who will come and save the world.  Then Jesus comes, who neither fights nor takes over anything, doesn’t even resist the Romans, but is a lowly servant and calls them to a lowly servant life.  Then he does the unthinkable and goes and gets Himself killed-what a tragic end!  Disappointment.  Expectations thwarted.

There is obviously more to these stories … and that is where we will go later on in the weekend.  But consider just stepping in at halftime.  What would they think?  What emotions would they feel? I suggest that they would feel keen and miserable disappointment. I suggest that we love and serve an awesome, majestic, glorious, beautiful, worthy, and infinitely valuable God of Disappointment.  And I love Him for it. 🙂

The Thanks of the Day

I’m thankful for the fact that we don’t have a full-time job yet because it meant Jeff had the freedom to go preach at a church in Wilsonville, and it was awesome!  I’m thankful that we’re not big-name famous preacher people becaues it means we got to rub shoulders with these precious saints in this teeny tiny church–they were so sweet!

I’m thankful for my 2nd trimester boost of energy today: 2 Loaves of banana bread, 2 batches of Dutch’s super-duper healthy muffins, fresh bread, dinner made, tomorrow’s lunch made for Jeff, laundry put away, house straightened up, dishes done…need I say more?  I’m thankful I had the energy yesterday to make ahead a picnic lunch for us so we didn’t have to spend money on food after church and we ate healthy instead!

I’m thankful for a son who is so flexible he goes into any church nursery and loves it.  I’m thankful he flirts with all the elderly ladies and makes their day.  I’m thankful he’s thrilled with a peanut butter sandwich and thinks he’s died and gone to heaven if he gets graham crackers too.  I’m thankful he read his little picture Bible the entire way there and back the 50 minute drive to and from the church we visited.

I’m thankful for the 1/2 of Costco apple pie I had stuck in the freezer and pulled out for tonight…I’m thankful for Potstickers which mean that dinner’s ready in 8 minutes.  I’m thankful for 3 weeks straight of not throwing up!  I’m thankful (again) for this amazing comfy bed that I’ve sunk into tonight.  I’m thankful that I have a genious husand whose mind can retain the insanity that Greek is…and I’m WAY thankful that I do NOT have to take Greek!  I’m thankful it delights him even though the very idea bores me to tears.

I’m thankful for the river where we played tonight and threw rocks. I’m thankful for the horsies up the road and for feeding them grass and watching Dutch squeal with delight as he throws them their food.  I’m thankful for a walk with my husband tonight…and I’m thankful that I’m already waddling because it means this baby is growing fast!  I’m thankful for the beautiful moment tonight when I tried on my big pregnancy jeans and rejoiced that they are still WAY too big. Yippee! 🙂  I’m thankful that Dutch is weaning himself.  I’m thankful for the scene of the night: Jeff surprising Dutch by running his stroller through the sprinkler!   I’m thankful Dutch is now asleep. I’m thankful for bedtimes that are set in stone.  🙂

I’m thankful for my laptop, for wireless internet (SO THANKFUL), for facebook Scrabble games with Jeff and Cheyloe, and for evenings like this when I’m in bed by 8:30.  So much…these are the thanks of the day.

Repenting … Again :-)

Isn’t it amazing how relentless our God is?  Remember last Sunday (Lie of Entitlement Vs. Truth of the Loving Father), how I was floored by the message at church on Numbers 11?  Well tonight Jeff and I decided to visit a church, the pastor of which we know, as they have a Saturday night service.  We thought we’d make a date out of it, so we packed a little picnic along with plenty of books for Dutch, and trekked into the big town to visit this church.  I thought it’d be a great way to spend a Saturday night. I had no idea what I was in store for.

I knew when I walked in that it was no accident we were there.  The sermon series?  Lessons from the Wilderness, a series on the book of Numbers.  Tonight’s message was from Numbers 14…about complaining.  What?! I heard that same message last week at a different church?  I mean who preaches out of Numbers?  Where are the Beatitudes? Two weeks in a row? From two different pastors who have never even heard of each other? Yes.  God was and is trying to get my attention.

Tonight’s sermon gripped me even more than last week’s, not because it was better, but just because I was in a place where I had, once again, been in a place of absolute miserable complaining, as you read in my earlier post. I could think of nothing good.  What Pastor Joel shared literally had me blubbering tears like a baby, letting my hair fall forward over my face so the people around me wouldn’t be distracted by my weeping.  Joel just returned last night from a mission trip to Mexico, where they worked amongst the very poorest there.  Not only do they not have homes, the babies wear no diapers, the children have open sores, live in cardboard boxes or little tin can boxes that practically bake them in the summer.  He explained that we have this unspoken belief that it’s wrong to complain unless we’re going through something really hard. Then it’s justified. Wrong!  The Israelites were going through something really hard, and yet it says that God was grieved by their grumbling, and therefore let the entire generation die in the wilderness.  I had never noticed before that in 14:1-2, they actually say “We wish we would have died in the wilderness.” Can you believe they actually say that? ANd then that’s what happens. God says, “Okay, you want to die in the wilderness.  It’s going to be a slow 40-year death for your entire generation.”

This about scared the wits out of me. Yes, God is so gracious and loving and merciful, but the fact that I have been full-time whining and complaining is an absolute blasphemy of God’s goodness.  Joel talked about how sad we would be as parents if we overheard our children, whom we sacrifice for in order to bless, talking about how miserable they are in our homes.  We would be hurt, so sad, and angry.  Imagine what it is like for God, who not only hears our words but see our complaining thoughts, after He’s not only provided for us materially, but given us eternal life and forgiveness of sin and escape from damnation!

Joel finished by reading an email, which offers perspective on thankfulness. I didn’t write it all down, but I’m going to put it into my own words, with my own situation.  And I’m repenting … again. This time I am purposing in my heart, and asking God for grace to help me, to each and every day begin by writing down what I am thankful for.  I have so far to go!  I’m seeing that to the degree that we are thankful, that is the degree that we are spiritually mature.  I’m basically a spiritual middle schooler then … oh dear.  But I’m taking a step, albeit small, in the right direction.

—–

  • I’m thankful for living with my parents because the rent is so cheap!
  • I’m thankful for my dad spending all day long with Dutch because that means Dutch gets a special relationship with his grandpa that most little boys don’t get.
  • I’m thankful Jeff only has a 1/2 time job because that gives him time to take Greek classes.
  • I’m thankful for our school debt because it means we’ve had the privilege of higher education.
  • I’m thankful for our filthy bathroom because it’s so much better than going to the bathroom in a big pit like we did at missions training camp and like they do in 3rd world countries.
  • I’m thankful for migraines and morning sickness because it means I have  a precious little life growing in side me!
  • I’m thankful for poopy diapers because it means Dutch is healthy!
  • I’m thankful for dirty dishes and meals to prepare because it means we are not starving.
  • I’m thankful for my weight gain and the fact that my clothes don’t fit right because it means our baby is growing!
  • I’m thankful for the zits on my face because…hmm I’ll have to think a while longer about this one. 🙂
  • I’m thankful for our dirty sheets that need to be changed because they cover the most comfortable bed in the world that I love sinking into every night.

And a few others…

I’m thankful for Corn Flakes, Microwaves, trips to visit the Horsies with Dutch, treks down to the river to throw rocks with Dutch, walks down the driveway, friendly neighbors, absolutely wonderful renters in our homes who always pay their rent on time, parents who love and support us and don’t yell at me even when I’m super grumpy (all the time), a son who laughs and brings me immeasurable joy and who loves being in the nursery at church (any church!) which just blows my mind, perfectly timed messages from God’s Word that bring me to my knees, talented worship leaders who usher me into the throneroom of God, and last but not least, an amazing husband who walks through the mountains and valleys with me.

And I’m thankful for this blog, and for YOU who actually read it!  Good night … and thanks!

Time Will Have to Tell

More dabbling in multiple books–I really think I’ve caught the Jeff bug.  In fact, it was he who handed me John Piper’s Suffering and the Sovereignty of God.  Why?  It went something like this:  Kari crying, again.  Weeping is more like it.  “I can’t do it anymore. I can’t do it. I can’t live here. I’m going crazy. It’s not like I have a bad day every once in a while. Every day is a bad day.  I’m depressed; I can hardly get myself out of bed because I hate how every day is.  I can’t keep doing this, but I know I can’t say that because I can’t tell God what to do and I’m supposed to be content, and every day I pray and plead with God to help me have joy and be content and not be so bitter and resentful and awful, and I’m supposed to be preparing to speak at this women’s retreat and I have nothing to say because if I say anything worth saying it will be totally fake.  I can’t encourage anyone when I can’t even trust God myself…” This then drowned into more sobbing.  Jeff, who listens WAY better than Peter Parker does in Spiderman 3 (and I told him that), listened quietly, stroked my cheek as I cried, and suggested that since I had nothing to pour out for the retreat ladies, I might has well just take more time to “fill up the well” so to speak, by reading something that would nourish my soul.  He pulled down Suffering and the Sovereignty of God and opened it to chapter seven.

So I read one thing that at least gave me an “exercise”, something to do, which always helps. (You have to understand I need baby steps here. I’m sure you’ve surmised by now that I am not doing well.  We need baby steps at this point.)  The sentence was “Profound good often emerges in a crucible of significant suffering” and then the point was made that perhaps the most trying circumstances are simply those that last a long time.  A quick and painful blow can often be endured, while the gnawing ache of disappointment wears us down to the core.  So the question asked was this: “What has marked you for good [during this season of suffering]?”  Hmm.  What has marked me for good?  A pretty simple exercise. Let’s see.

1. I’ve written more in the past 13+ months than ever before.  2. Maybe in the end our marriage will be stronger since this year has been so hard.  3.  We haven’t spent money on clothes or house stuff.  4. We’ve gotten a lot of school done. Um….

You know what though? The truth is that I just can’t see it yet.  I’m still too far in the midst of the circumstance to even see it right.  The fact is right now as I sit there trying to think, I can think of ten bad things for every good thing.  It’s been SO hard on our marriage.  We have less money and more debt than ever before.  I feel discouraged and depressed almost all the time, like it takes a supernatural measure of courage to do everday things.  We have no close friends nearby.  We’ve invested a year in a place where it now seems likely we won’t be long term.  We have nowhere to live. We have no job.  There are a million three-generation-household-living dynamics that are driving me insane (and I know we drive my parents crazy!).  And the worst is that this was my choice, and I should be thankful, I know that, but I’m not. I’m miserable, and every time I think of one thing to be thankful for, there are five things that bombard my mind that are depressing.

So, sorry to get so real and raw with you, but what this has taught me is that I don’t think I’m going to see this one very clearly until later. Time will have to tell what those “good things” are.  I just received in the mail my first (self-published) book of The Road to Santa Clara, complete with the cool cover Jeff designed. Now, it’s easy to see all the awesome lessons we learned there. But at the time, I was absolutely miserable and couldn’t see the forest for the trees.  So I guess I’m there again.  I refuse to be fake here. I refuse to tell you that I’m encouraged and seeing God’s awesome purposes and rejoicing in the midst of my frustrations.  Yup, not really there yet.  But I’ll at least be honest and vulnerable with you.  And one thing I know, I know that will be a time when it will be clear. It’ll make sense.  I’ll begin to see the good that arose from this. And you know what? I can honestly say, that even if that time never comes, I’m ok with that.  Because God is God.  Though my flesh may be destroyed (or my heart), with my eyes I will see God.  Though he slay me yet will I trust Him.  I will weep and and pour out my heart to Him because He’s said that we can. I will continue to plead with Him for grace.  I’ll feel and experience the emotions.  But time will have to tell what God makes of all this. ANd that’s ok, because He’s God. I don’t have to understand. It’s ok.  And surprising to even myself right now…I’m ok too.