Who Do You Say That I Am?

Two nights ago I laid in bed next to my oldest daughter while she cried. The reality of just how quickly this last year at home is going is starting to settle in, and the tears came hard and fast. Laying  there in the dark, though, I couldn't help but be thankful for the tears as I saw them for what they were...testimony to who God is.

The tears being spilled came from a deep love for the sweet friendships Tyah has developed over the last two and a half years. The thought of moving into a different season of life that promises to separate these kiddos is painful and sad. But you know, I'd want it no other way.

The pain and sadness is reminding me of gifts the Father has so perfectly given to our oldest and in doing so, given to me.

Two and a half years ago, I was face down on my living room floor ranting to God. I was accusing Him of asking Vaughn and I to follow Him into a situation that was going to lead our oldest daughter astray. I'm fairly certain I used phrases like, "Throwing my child to the wolves", and "Is this really how we get repaid for obedience?".

It was far from one of my finer moments.

Just the fact that I was not struck down by lightning for what was coming out of my mouth is testimony to the gentle, loving, slow to anger character of God. It felt like a dark season and I could not see how it was going to play out.

Two weeks ago, I was on the phone with a friend as I heard myself referring to that hard season as a foundational time in our lives, for both Tyah and myself. I was able to look back and see all the ways God was at work on a master plan that was way beyond what I had constructed in my mind. And through it all, He landed Tyah smack dab in the middle of a group of friends who love Jesus and have become like family to our daughter.

I saw Tyah's tears as a thank offering being poured out over her pillow as we talked about the sweet, sweet way her heavenly Father has loved her. And at that moment it was easy for me to speak of Jesus being good, and faithful, and sovereign.

I am finding that looking back and remembering who God is, is so much easier than being mindful of it in the present. When enough time and space has passed to allow for the pain and the doubt to subside, when the questions have fallen away and closure has maybe been provided, or when just enough of that part of our story has been revealed, that we have more of a sense of how God is moving, then we're finally able to take a breath and really say, "God you are good, and faithful and sovereign."

Three months ago, it felt like our family got thrown into the deep end of the ocean. Notice I didn't say the deep end of the pool. I'm a pretty good swimmer and if it felt like I was thrown into the deep end of the pool that would indicate that I had a flippin chance of finding my way to the side for air.

But no.

It felt like we were in the middle of the ocean with one huge wave after another crashing over us. Just about the time we felt like our heads were above water enough to take a huge gulp of air, we got pummeled by another wave, leaving us sputtering, choking and floundering all the harder.

I'll be honest in saying that I spent a decent amount of time during the first phase of this little "swim test" pretty convinced that my skills and abilities would be enough to get me to some kind of "land". However, time would prove otherwise and I began to feel like I was sinking.

In that state, I heard the Father ask, "Who do you say that I am?"

I ignored the question for as long as I could, but finally recognized that sinking is synonymous with drowning and therefore I finally engaged the question in hopes of being rescued.

It's crazy how quickly we can answer a question like this one without hardly giving it a second thought. Lord, I know who you are...you are good and faithful. You are sovereign and loving. You are my Father and my Savior.

And now that I've answered that question, can we take care of the fact that I'm drowning here?

The answer I heard in response was, "Rest in this."

Oh dear Jesus, could it be so simple? Lord knows I was beyond tired of the struggle and any thought of rest triggered a measure of hope that I dared not believe. Was it possible to actually rest in the truth of who God is, before knowing how everything was going to play out? Could I actually find peace and hope in the middle of the chaos, and not just at the point of resolution?

Finally, what were my options? I had exhausted my skill set and had looked to anything and everything else to give me a sense of security, only to leave me wanting. It was obvious I had put more trust in myself than I had in the One who promises to always be trustworthy, and it was not serving me well.

For the last couple of weeks I have thought a lot about who I say Jesus is. I've thought about what it means to say these things, and what it means to actually walk in this truth. I can see how I love to speak of His goodness after the fact, but am challenged to trust it when I'm walking in the middle of the unknown. And yet, isn't it our actions and our choices that give evidence to what we truly believe?

Ultimately, I want my life to reflect the truth of who God is. If this is the case, then I must choose to walk in this truth no matter what season of the journey. And how ridiculously crazy is it that the truth that we are invited into actually offers us peace, and rest, and Life despite the brokenness we are experiencing. I've got nothing that can offer me anything that comes close to that, and yet I still struggle to surrender to it.

Lucky for me, aside from being good, faithful and sovereign, Jesus is also patient and so much more. I will still always love and be so thankful for the times we're given where we can look back and see the work of our Father's hand. But I'm also fairly certain He is going to continue to give me ample opportunities to practice walking in the truth of who He is, before I have any idea of where He is leading. I'm slowly learning to be ok with that.

To My Girls -- I confess that I have not always done a good job of being a good example of what it means to walk in the truth who Jesus is. I have done a pretty good job of exemplifying what it looks like to try to control things and then quickly lose my mind when I'm unable to pull it off. I'm sorry for this. I want nothing more than for you to know the hope and joy that we have access to when we choose to find rest in Jesus, despite our circumstances. At times this will sound too easy to be true and at times it will feel too hard to believe. The not knowing in life can feel so scary, but the beauty is that we are invited to trust the One who does know. Embrace the unknown with the assurance that Jesus is good, faithful and sovereign. And always remember that He is crazy about you!

Dude, Where's My Car?: The Sequel

 

Two months ago I blogged about our car being stolen.  It was the craziest thing.  The range of emotions we experienced while processing the loss was wide.  Thinking about how we might recover was overwhelming.  Trying to trust in spite of circumstances was challenging, to say the least.

And then I got a text from our close friends who were finishing up their extended trip to Nicaragua.  The text essentially said, "We're not asking for permission, we're simply giving you a heads up.  We're setting up a Go Fund Me account for you guys in order to raise money to replace your car and other belongings."

What?!?!?!  First, I didn't even know what a Go Fund Me account was.  Second, how did I feel about this?  What might people think?  As church planters, we had already spent three years of our lives living on raised support.  Surely people are tired of giving...of supporting us.

Surely I am tired of being dependent on others to make ends meet (pride is an ugly thing!).

But then I read what the Cartwrights wrote about our situation, and my heart was humbled.  Again, we were overwhelmed.  The gesture in and of itself ministered to our family in ways words cannot even express.  But it didn't stop there...

By the end of the first day I had family and friends calling and texting, asking me if I was watching how much was being donated.  By the end of the second day, our family sat around the dinner table as Vaughn read the comments being left by various donors.  We both cried.

How does one even begin to say "Thank You!" in a situation like this?  For a third time, we found ourselves utterly overwhelmed.  We felt loved and supported to the point of it almost being uncomfortable.  Uncomfortable because there was no expectation of anything in return.  There was no way to "pay back" all those that had blessed us.  There was nothing we could do to balance the scales.  The only thing we could do was humbly receive the blessing that was given us, and in doing so experience the immense beauty of generosity.

With the finances raised, we were able to replace "Carl" (our Saturn).  Vaughn found an older used Toyota that was in good shape...we named it "Yoda".  Vaughn was also able to replace his laptop and most of his belongings.  Throughout this entire ordeal, we continued to pray that Carl would be found.  However, as time passed we began to wonder.

A few weeks ago, though, we got the call!  Our car had been recovered (minus our belongings).  We were free to go and pay to pick it up from where it had been impounded.  Awesome...you gotta love how that works.  Yes, I'd love to pay for my stolen car!  Really!?!?

Anyhow!  We were nonetheless thrilled because we had plans for that car.  We wanted nothing more than to find Carl a new home, with a family in need.  We had prayed for the opportunity to thank all of you for not only providing for our family, but for an additional family as well!

Carl will soon be relocating to an organization called Joshua Station.  For the last 3 years we have been in relationship with this ministry that provides temporary housing for families getting back on their feet.  We have shared numerous meals with many of these families and love the idea of being able to bless one of them by donating our car.  Your generosity has allowed us to do that.

So thank you...

Thank you to those close friends and family who jumped in immediately with their love, prayers and giving.

Thank you to those friends from high school who gave, despite the fact that we haven't seen many of you in years!  Your thoughtfulness blew us away.

Thank you to the various families from Trailhead.  Your community will always hold a special place in our hearts as we took many of our first steps with you guys!

Thank you to the anonymous givers.  We may never know who you are, but our prayer is that you will know how blessed we were by you.  And to the family with children that keeps their eyes open for missionaries to bless...you are an inspiration to us!

And thank you to our parents.  Your support, your words of encouragement, your prayers, your generosity and your love have carried us through so many seasons, and this one was no different.  We love you so very much!

My prayer for this post is that others will be reminded of the power of giving.  My hope is that those who gave might celebrate with us, as you not only provided a car for our family but for an additional family as well!  My heart longs for more stories like this.  Stories of others surrounding those in need.  Stories of communities of people supporting and loving on those in hard places.  Stories of random acts of giving, inspiring those who are receiving.

We are humbled, we are grateful, we are inspired!
Thank you!


To My Girls -- Give.  Give freely.  Give generously.  Give with a joyful heart.  It's beautiful in writing, but sometimes much more difficult in action.  My prayer is that each of you will continue to develop generous hearts, hearts that long to bless, to serve, to live openhandedly.  May we continue to learn to hold loosely to our own possessions, and always be on the lookout for ways to help provide for others.  And those times when it's hard, those are often the most important times to give.  For as we grow in our ability to be generous, our hearts are being transformed to look more and more like the perfect Giver.

Dude, Where's My Car?

Saturday morning at 6 a.m. our car was stolen.  It was running in our driveway as my husband was loading it, getting ready to hit the road with our oldest to go on several college campus visits in Kansas.  He ran inside for the last few things and came out to an empty driveway.

I kid you not.
It's so crazy it's almost funny.
Except it's not.

His computer was in there.  To say his life is on that computer would not be much of an exaggeration.  As a teacher and a pastor, that computer holds years of lesson plans, teaching material, sermons, etc.

His suitcase was also in the car.  My husband is pretty low maintenance, so due to the fact that he would be going to church and attending two campus visits, he packed his "best" shirts.  All of them.

And then we found out that because we only have liability on the car, it's not covered by insurance.

Really!??!?  I can honestly tell you that the purchase of a vehicle was not in our future plans or budget.  I haven't even asked about whether the computer is covered by home owner's insurance.  I'm guessing because it was in the car and not in our home it's not.  Ugh!

Have I mentioned before that God has been really working on my heart in the area of trust?  Well, He has, and He is.

So, of course I'm thinking, here is my test.  I'm ready to prove myself.  I'm ready to walk this road well.  I'm ready to trust in spite of my circumstances, and I start to pray.

I started out praying that the Father would be in the situation at hand.  Then I prayed that He would allow the car to be found and returned.  Then I prayed that whatever happened would bring glory to Him.  Finally, I just prayed that His will would be done.

Is there a right or wrong way to pray when you're trying to trust?

I found myself in a wrestling match as I tried my hardest to determine what I was trusting God for.  I assumed once I had this settled, I would experience peace.  So I began running through the options in my mind.

Trusting Him to restore all that was lost felt like I was putting Him in a box, but I did trust that he could restore these things if He chose.
Trusting Him to be over the entire situation and use it to bring glory to Him felt like the noble thing to do, but it sure didn't eliminate the feelings I was experiencing as I began to process what this loss would mean for us.
Trusting that the Father's will would be done felt like the right thing to do, however it left me wondering why I couldn't get myself to a peaceful place in all this.  I mean if I really trusted the Father's will, shouldn't I be at peace?

Sheesh, I'm fairly certain I lost the wrestling match simply out of sheer exhaustion.

So 32 hours later, I just sat.

I sat on my couch in front of the window and soaked in the sun.  For the first time since Saturday morning I just stopped and waited.  I was reminded of the passage in Lamentations that says,

"I say to myself, The Lord is my portion; 

therefore I will wait for him."

As I waited, as I soaked in His warmth, I was filled with peace.  And it was here that I recognized my mistake...or should I say mistakes?

First, I made the assumption that if I trusted God in something, I'd no longer have to wrestle with hard feelings.  Second, I was convinced that I needed to figure out what it was I was trusting God for.  Again, once this was determined, I would be able to let go of all the emotions that came along with a situation that was hard to understand.

I realized this was not the case.  I also realized this had become an issue of control.  I wanted to prove myself, remember?  I wanted to pass the test that was before me.  Ultimately, I wanted to control the situation in some way that would guarantee these uncomfortable feelings would be alleviated.

Right there I made the biggest mistake of all.  

I assumed I could do this on my own.  I also assumed that if I did it right, I could avoid the messiness of hard feelings.  If I could just figure out what the "right" way was, I could control the outcome of my emotions.  And so it's here that you can safely assume I am a huge work in progress (and a long ways off from mastering this call to trust).

Lucky for me, the One that I am learning to trust (if ever so slowly), is patient and gracious.  I experienced His peace before I had any of my ducks in a row.  I experienced His peace before I had proven myself, before I had passed the test.  I experienced His peace as a gift, not something to be earned, not something given as a result of worthiness, but as a gift.

I've said it before and I'll say it again, the amazing thing about my Father is that He knows me and He knows my heart.  I believe in this situation He knows my desire to trust Him.  He also knows my issues with control.  He sees my heart and the way it longs to run hard after Him and He is fully aware of how quickly I can get off track.  I'm guessing by now He just sits back and chuckles to himself as He watches me flounder through trying to control things, simply waiting for me to return to Him once I've worn myself out.

Finding myself in that worn out place,  I did return to Him.  Here, He reminded me that it's only through His Spirit that I'm even able to trust Him, and that peace is not a commodity paid out to those who earn it.  It's something that comes as a result of pressing into the One who promises us life, even in the midst of trouble.  It comes from relationship, through time and conversation, through vulnerability and yucky feelings.

Today I'm trusting my Father with the help of His Spirit.  I don't know what it is I'm trusting Him for exactly.  I'm trusting that He is in control and that He will see us through.  There are moments I feel peace and I'll be honest in saying there are moments when my stomach flips and I find myself panicking, wondering how this is all going to work out.  In those freaking out moments, I'm forced to run back to the Father.  I'm forced to remember who He is.  I'm reminded that I cannot do this on my own.

What I wanted to be a once and done decision, has become a moment by moment choice, the choice to engage in the relationship.

Having to walk this road has taught me so much already.  I don't know that I'm completely thankful for this opportunity, but I am thankful for what I've learned.

One day we may even look back on this and laugh.  Ok, maybe not.  But I do believe we will look back and be reminded of God's love for us and His desire to be in deep relationship with us.

To My Girls -- What a crazy weekend, eh?  How many times have we looked at each other over the last couple of days and just shook our heads?  Right now I don't know how this part of our story ends.  My hope is that as we do our best to walk this road, you'll recognize in Dad and I a desire to trust, a longing to be in deep relationship with Jesus, and the understanding that we are broken people saved by grace.  My prayer is that you have and will continue to experience God working in you as you live your own stories.  As you wrestle through the hard, never forget the value of pressing into the One who created you.  Go there first, go there before you have it figured out, go there with your questions, your feelings, your unknowns.  I promise He'll be there, always.

One Day...

This is what my bathroom currently looks like.  To be honest, this is not a rarity.  One day this will not be.

One day I will not spend precious minutes of my morning looking for my mascara...only to find it in the makeup bag of one of my daughters.

One day I will get ready to leave the house for the day and every last light will not be on.

One day I will no longer have to enter into bedrooms to find my missing pieces of silverware, plates, cups, and bowls.

One day I will not have to horde my socks for fear of losing them to someone else.

One day all of my shoes will remain in my closet, unless I choose to wear them, and all of my hoodies will remain in my possession.

One day my entryway will not look like a drop zone of shoes, backpacks, coats, random school papers, various books, and sometimes old lunch bags.

One day I will fall asleep and no longer be woken up by the sound of someone taking a bath or a shower during the late hours of the night.

Sometimes those days sound dreamy.  But lately I've been reminded of just how fast time flies.  And before those "dreamy" days become my escape, I realize the other side of what that time will look like...

One day it will just be Vaughn and I sitting around the dinner table sharing our "highs" and "lows" of the day.

One day I'll walk in the door and there will no longer be voices that call out, "Mommy!"

One day I will no longer hear laughter coming up through the vents.

One day I'll lose my "in" on all that is trending and up to date.

One day when it's cleaning day, I'll be down to 2 pairs of hands instead of 6. (say it's not so!)

One day I'm guessing my house will feel oddly empty and quiet.

I remember longing for the day when all my girls might sleep through the night.  Now, there is an ache in my heart as I realize how close we are to only tucking three girls into bed at night instead of four.

Thinking about such things reminds me of seasons.  For every season, there are things that I love and things that I don't.  Some seasons for me are easier than others.  Winter is not my favorite season.  It's cold and the days are short.  It's cold.

But my second oldest was born in the winter.  And some of our family's favorite memories are made as we travel "home" each Christmas during the winter.  Without winter, would spring feel nearly as glorious?

I'm learning to embrace whatever season I'm in.  I'm trying not to rush past it, to hope for something different, or to simply miss out on the present.  I don't want to live wishing for what has been or fear what is to come.  I don't want to be consumed by regrets or be distracted by always wanting more.

I want to embrace contentment and trust.  I want to make sure we always have margin in our lives to soak in the present.  I want to value the ordinary, the everyday, the normal, because that's where we're living most of our days.

Giving thanks helps me do just that.

As I take the time to recognize the Father's hand at work in my life, as I give thanks for all He has done and is doing, my cup overflows.

Ann Voskam writes that giving thanks is "an invitation to slow time down with weight of full attention."

My prayer is that as my heart gives thanks, as I give my full attention to what is happening around me, time might slow, my eyes might see, my heart might feel, and I might be transformed through simply being present.

To My Girls -- I am so thankful for each of you...thankful beyond words.  Thanks for putting up with my crazy when I lose sight of the big picture and I lose my mind for just a second as I recover my "things".  I know there are days when you catch me just staring at you...I'm trying to soak you up.  I don't want to forget these days, or the days that have passed or the days to come.  I want to enjoy the moment, while hoping for the future.  I already have so many treasured memories, and I love nothing more than to sit around the table and listen to you girls talk about "remember when....".  My hope is that we will continue to make memories as we embrace the everyday.  And I know full well that each season will be a gift.

Making Mistakes

Awhile ago I read this blog post written by Lori Harris.  I connected with it on multiple levels.  A couple of weeks later, I was living my own version of the post as I stood face to face screaming profanities at Brien, who would not get out of my house. (I shared about Brien in a previous post)*


Before anyone gets too stirred up by this, it's important for me to explain that my safety was not at risk and that Brien is someone we consider a friend.  Yes, I also understand why it would be difficult to understand why I would be screaming such things to a friend.  Would anyone believe me if I said I started out that day with a heart longing to love well...that ten minutes before all hell broke loose I sat at our table and actually prayed with Brien?  I have a hard time believing it myself...but it's all true.

Maybe I should back up...

Two months ago, a dear friend of mine lent me the book Kisses for Katie.  The book stirred things so deep in my soul it scared me.  There were a number of overarching themes in the book that truly captured my heart.  For several days I walked around in a fog feeling undone by all that I was processing and feeling.  During those days, the Father was speaking to me. One of the things He asked me to do was to love those that He placed in front of me.  Brien was included in this.  I immediately began praying for my heart where Brien was concerned.  I still so desperately needed Jesus to give me more of His heart for this man

And so, the day came when I was given the chance to walk in obedience.  It was a difficult day for Brien, and I felt led to go pick him up and feed him lunch.  We talked at length during the car ride to my house about his struggles and frustrations.  I tried to encourage him, while still speaking truth to him.  When you're dealing with mental illness, all of these conversations border on the line of cray-cray in ways I can't even explain.  But I could feel something different happening in my heart and I was able to keep my calm and stay true to loving Brien at that given time.

Fast forward about an hour and a half, after feeding Brien and asking him if I could pray with him (to which he agreed, an act of God in and of itself.) and it was time to go.  It was here, my dear friends, that the train began to come off the rails.  And by coming off the rails, I mean not only derailing, but promptly driving full speed ahead into a brick wall and therefore ending in a fiery explosion of destruction.

To say Brien was having a hard time leaving my house would be like saying it's a little chilly at the top of Mt. Everest.  To say I was starting to lose my cool would be like saying...well, you get the picture, and it wasn't a pretty one.

Without going into details, the situation got heated and for a small window of time I think I lost my mind.  I did have the where with all to call someone to come assist me in getting Brien to leave.  However, even that proved to be far more intense and upsetting than any of us could have foreseen.

By the time Brien was gone, I was an emotional mess.  The adrenaline that had been pumping through my body was draining, and I wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and go to sleep.  The weight of what just happened fell heavy on my heart.  The tears that flowed were tears of anger, frustration, confusion, sadness, and disappointment.  So many thoughts, so many feelings.

The most logical place for me to go after something like this, is to question my heart.  What could I have done differently?  How could I have loved Brien better?  How much of the Father's work did I undo with my actions and words?  Usually at this point in time it would be about me.

However, as I laid in bed that night and another wave of tears hit me, I realized that my heart was breaking.  I couldn't shake the image of Brien, alone, having to deal with the fall out of the day all by himself.  I felt his loneliness, I wondered if he was cold, I knew he was hurting.  And for the first time I began to pray for Brien out of longing instead of discipline.  God was doing something.

Two days later, my phone rang.

It was Brien.

Nothing could have prepared me for the words that were spoken.  "I'm sorry...I lost it...I know I won't be allowed to come to dinner this week...I'm sorry."

Friends, this was monumental for Brien.  Apologizing is one of the hardest things for him to do.  And yet the spirit in which he was speaking to me on the phone was different than anything I had ever experienced from him.

After sharing words of forgiveness and encouragement, after communicating that we were going to keep walking this road together, I hung up.  Vaughn was sitting next to me during the call.  As the tears began to flow again (I'm telling you, it seems to be a constant some days), Vaughn asked me what I was feeling.

My response was, "How can I be so angry with someone and so dang proud of them within such a short amount of time?"  My heart was full.  Brien's phone call was testimony to nothing short of a miracle.  A miracle that was worth recognizing.  Knowing the situation, we knew the miracle could be short lived, and it was, but it was miraculous none the less.  Baby steps...

I love these words written by Lori Harris,

"This afternoon, as I ponder how you’ll receive this post, I feel led to encourage you towards more love and good deeds. Make mistakes in trying to love your neighbors. Risk the hurt heart or the anger or the fear. Risk being made a fool. Risk having to explain to your children why so and so said such and such."

I have failed over and over in my attempts to love Brien well.  I have begged God to give me more of His heart for the outcast, the overlooked, the hurting.  I never dreamed that on one of my worst days, in the midst of what seemed to be a huge set back, through all the mess that went down in my house, God would choose to further his work in me and in Brien, redeeming what felt lost, reminding me that He is bigger than our failures.

Since this time, we've already experienced a number of setbacks with our friend.  But we've also seen some things that spark in me hope and wonder as to what God is doing. 

This way of Jesus is messy, I've said it before. 

I can't help but believe, though, that the mess does not undo the Father.  I'm fairly certain He is not surprised by it.  As a matter of fact, I think he's probably used to it.  Some days I wonder if He isn't simply waiting for us to quit trying to tiptoe through it...if He's longing for us to simply dive in head first, risking the crazy that may ensue, maybe even getting a little beat up in the process, but running hard nonetheless towards those things that are of Him.

If we wait until we know we'll get it right, I'm convinced we'll miss out on some of the most valuable, most transformational parts of the journey. 

I don't like to miss out.

To My Girls -- I know you've witnessed numerous events that look similar to the one mentioned above.  You are no stranger to the mess.  I can only hope that as we embrace the mess together, you will see the value of taking risks in loving well and deeply.  My prayer is that you will not fear making mistakes, but understand that without them we cannot learn.  May you find such hope and security in the Father's unconditional love for you, that you are freed to run crazy hard after the way of Jesus.


*I have been granted permission by Brien to blog about our times together.