Saying Yes

I've been watching a lot of Prison Break these days, along with Call The Midwife (bet you would've never put those two together).  I've read two fictional novels in the last week and a half.  I finally decided to replace our dishes after 19 years of marriage, so I spent an entire day tracking down enough pieces from various Walmart's to complete a set of 12 (Thank you Pioneer Woman, Ree Drummond!).

I know that these are the things I do when I'm avoiding.

Sometimes my feelings are so deep it hurts to process them.  Sometimes the future is so unknown it scares the life out of me.  Sometimes the discouragement is so thick I can feel it turning into anger.  The weight of all the "what if's", the "what are we doing's", and the "what could be's" is so heavy it's sometimes hard to breath.

We've been doing a lot of processing at our house...yes, still. (Will there ever be a day when I don't use that line in a post?) This journey can be so hard sometimes.  And that hard comes in so many different forms.  For me, lately, it's been emotional.  My heart longs to see transformation.  My being is hungry to be a part of something.  My soul feels a bit like Donkey on Shrek when he's standing among all the fairy tale characters jumping up and down yelling, "Me! Me! Pick me!"

I want to feel picked for a purpose and I want to see that purpose bear fruit.  I want to see more of the Kingdom breaking through.  I want to see lives transformed.  I want to experience more of the Holy Spirit in my life.

I also want to know what God is up to and what that is going to look like for me.  I want to know how long this season of discernment is going to last and how it's going to end.  I want to eat pie for breakfast, and chips with my lunch while still being able to fit into my jeans (a.k.a. yoga pants).

I realize I want a lot of things.

I think the Father wants a lot of these same things for me (minus the pie and chips, maybe...although I am convinced there will be lemon meringue pie along with Doritos and guacamole at the great banquet table in heaven).  But I also realize that there is an underlying desire for something else throughout all of these other desires, and that's for control.

Are we honestly having this conversation again?

I'm about 10 years into this surrendering thing and the end seems nowhere in sight.  I have felt the peace that comes with opening up my hands and letting go.  I know the hope we have in serving a sovereign God, a good God.  Why, then, can I not master this skill of trusting, of believing, of resting in a surrendered state?

The other day I was talking on the phone to my mom (I may or may not have been crying).  I was frustrated and confused.  I knew the right answers, but that didn't stop the strong emotions.  After listening patiently, she finally spoke truth into my situation like only a mom can.  She gently told me to get back to the present and simply be willing to say "Yes" to whatever the Father was asking of me that day.

The minute the words left her mouth, I knew they were for me.  But I still felt myself rise against them a bit.  Isn't that too easy?  Who's going to think about the future?  Who is going to discern?  Who is going to come up with the next step?

Knowing my mom is a woman of great wisdom, I've been working at saying "Yes".  I'm doing my best to stay in the present, to simply do what is in front of me. 

Yes, I will do our laundry. 
Yes, I will read with my youngest. 
Yes, I will prepare for kids club. 
Yes, I will lay down my anxious thoughts in a conversation with my Creator. 
Yes, I will lay down my anxious thoughts. 
Yes, I will lay down my anxious thoughts.

On my hard days I find myself swinging from one side of the spectrum to the other.  At one point I can feel so hopeful and excited about what God is stirring in us that I can hardly see straight, only to become so doubtful and overwhelmed I begin to question everything we're doing.

On my good days, though, I'm learning to stop myself before the emotions get too intense.  I'm learning to ask myself what it is I am to say "Yes" to on that day.  I'm working at trusting what I know to be true instead of what I feel to be true.  That's a biggie for this girl who seems to ALWAYS be feeling something.

My goal is to learn to say "Yes" to hope consistently and to find joy in the waiting.  That's my goal...someday, sometime, may it be so.

To My Girls -- My prayer is that all four of you would have hearts that always choose to say "Yes" to Jesus, even when it may seem unclear as to what you are saying "Yes" to, even when the "Yes" feels hard.

Planting Seeds

When we moved into our neighborhood 5 years ago we did so with a vision of engaging our community and loving our neighbors.  We spent hours and days brainstorming ways to connect with those that lived around us.

In my dreams, deep relationships would be formed, long conversations would be had, life would be spent doing together as the days turned into months turned into years.

We knew it would take time.  We knew it might be a steep learning curve.  But we dove in all the same.

5 years later we've learned a lot.  I can tell you what doesn't seem to work more than what does.   I have far more questions now than when we started.  I've felt discouraged, burnt out, and cynical.

And then last year happened.  To say it in the most simple, concise way, last year was hard...hard on so many levels.  It was a year of holding on for dear life and being forced to trust like never before.  It was a year of wrestling, of questioning, of processing, of clinging and then of letting go.  It was a year of darkness and surviving.

But in that darkness and in that drive to survive, it became a year of growing and learning and changing.  Last year forced us to daily cling to our mantra of faithfulness and obedience.

This year we're still seeking to live faithfully and obediently despite our questions, despite the unknown, despite what we thought might be.  Kids Club is one way of doing this.

Every year we've lived in our neighborhood we've done Kids Club.  Every year except last year...it just didn't happen.  But this year the kids were begging and we knew it was time to start it back up.

And so, once again I trekked out to the bus stop and handed out flyers.  You could hear the whispers, "Kids Club?"  "Are you going?"  "Thursday nights?  I think I can come!"

As we prepared for our kick off night, my heart was in a new place.  I saw these kiddos through different eyes.  I knew what we were doing, as simple as it is, was right.  How can you go wrong loving on kiddos?  How can you fail when you're sharing the love of Jesus?  How can you question speaking truth and life into young, sponge-like hearts?

But the kids aren't the only ones being ministered to.  Before week one even happened, three of our "older" neighborhood girls showed up at our front door.  With their shy smiles, and their accented words they wanted to know if they could still come to Kids Club.  We've always posted an age range of 4-12 (really assuming anyone over the age of 12 would not be interested in coming).  But these girls had been with us from the beginning and they weren't ready to be done.

I told them they were too old to come to Kids Club, but that they weren't too old to help.  The vision was coming to me as I was speaking.  What might it look like to allow Kids Club to grow with our kids?  What better way to continue learning than to help teach?

A deal was quickly made.

If these girls would agree to show up at my house on Tuesday afternoons, I would tell them what that week's lesson was about.  Together we would then come up with a craft or activity for the kids to do following the story, and the girls would be responsible for leading whatever we came up with.

I'll be honest in saying I figured the girls would forget to come, and that was ok.  I figured they would still show up on Thursday for club and that would, of course, be ok also.  But low and behold, my doorbell rang that first week and there they were!  I had totally forgotten, but they had not!  Last week they "led" their first activity.

Again, this week my doorbell rang.  Again, I had forgotten!  Luckily I was home, though, and we talked through our second lesson, coming up with a craft idea.  Tonight we'll once again let them "lead".

Is it a surprise, really, that I'm being ministered to just as much as I'm doing the ministering?  Isn't that usually the case, especially when it comes to children?  Watching these neighborhood kids never ceases to teach me, to challenge me and to encourage me.

The homes they come from are all different, some more broken than others.  But they're kids, and all kids long to feel loved, long to feel a part of things, long to be known.  My hope is that even if for one hour a week we can speak this into each one of them, we can share with them hope, we can tell them about Someone who not only created them but loves them unconditionally and offers them life, then maybe they will learn to walk in these truths and even end up sharing them with someone else.

As much as it feels right to us, it doesn't necessarily to everyone else.  Each week I look across the street to see a little boy and his sister sitting on the step watching from afar.  They've asked their dad if they can come, but the answer has been "no".  My heart hurts as I see them looking over longingly.  I will not stop praying that one day they'll be able to join us.

We always hope that our intentions to love well are received over the misconception of having some kind of agenda.  We pray regularly that we might find favor in the eyes of those that live around us.  We strongly believe in this way of life and are learning to find joy in it, despite the disappointments  and frustrations.

My prayer is that the seeds that are planted on this street might someday grow, flourish and produce much fruit.  What I wouldn't give to know the ending to this part of our story.

To My Girls -- What a blessing it has been to watch you minister with Daddy and I through Kids Club.  Each of you bring your own gifts and personalities to the table.  I love to see you running out to gather kids up, or sitting with the little ones on your lap during the story. It blesses me as you volunteer to answer the questions, or help around the craft table.  Your warmth and graciousness reminds me of how I want to be.  Thank you for working with us.  Thank you for being generous.  Thank you for loving well.