How to Fight

Like so many others, my heart and mind keep thinking of the Christians, both big and small, being persecuted on the other side of the world.  It's beyond comprehension to think of the terrors that so many are facing for a faith that I practice and proclaim with such freedom from my little corner of the world.  It's not ironic, it's tragic.  And my first response when I started reading reports of the atrocities, was 'let me back in the fight somehow, Lord!'.  If I could, if there was a way, I'd go back in a heartbeat to help fight.  It's hard to believe that almost ten years ago, I was on the ground in Iraq, living a very different life.  I thought that situation was bad back then.  I had no idea how much worse it would be a decade later.  And I keep thinking of them....wondering if they have survived.  

And then I started questioning so many things that currently consume my energy and time on a minute by minute basis.  I actually started resenting and feeling so 'bothered' by the little hands and noses that I had to wipe, the little tummies that needed to be filled with food, the little bodies that required some sunscreen because we have the privilege of going to a pool, all the water bottles that need to filled with clean water that flows freely in our home, the seemingly gazillion shoes that I seem to be constantly tripping over (because of course we have crocs for the pool and sand, gym shoes for running around and a couple 'nice ' shoes for church).  It all kind of seems a bit ridiculous when others are just hoping to take their next breath.   

Even if there was a way to return to help and fight for those being persecuted, this big 'ol swollen, third trimester belly would make me a hindrance rather than helpful.  And then I started questioning God on what in the world I had gotten myself into.  I've always daydreamed of a second career as a first responder - firefighter, rescue diver, smoke jumper, ER/trauma doc, paramedic, heck - even someone that would stop and give CPR to someone dying on the side of the road.  In the back of my mind, there was this creeping thought that I'm not where I'm supposed to be (literally and figuratively) and somewhere along the way I chose the wrong path.  

But God is ever so gracious - in my questioning and doubts He gently reminded me that He is Sovereign.  Always has been.  Is.  and Always will be.    

He reminded me through another (much wiser) friend's post that "He sees and He will make this right." Just as He rescued His people in Exodus 14:27-28, He will rescue again.  

He reminded me that prayer is not to be underestimated.  I had to hear that CLEARLY from Him as I felt useless praying while washing my sink of dirty dishes that had been used to serve good, healthy food to my kids.  After returning from Iraq, a precious friend and family member shared with me that she was woken in the middle of the night and just felt a strong urge to pray for me.  And as she was talking to her mom the next day, turns out the same thing happened to her mom.  Two different people, two different homes,  at the same time felt the urge to pray for me on the other side of the world.  That's no coincidence.  Only in heaven will I know what I was protected/spared from that day.  And so I will pray.  and pray.  and pray.  and my kids have started to pray, too.  

He reminded me that though my heart longs to help those on the other side of the world, He has not made a mistake in placing me where I am.  While my husband is away (but we're in the homestretch!!!!!), I, by the GRACE OF GOD, have been the sole everything for our kids.   And this job, that kicks my butt on a daily basis, is not to be taken lightly because in the midst of all the mundane, day to day tasks, this is a job about raising eternal souls who are sons and daughters of the one true KING.  (If our kids each get married, that's our kiddos x 2, which to me seems like a lot of folks to be building a heritage for!)  Regardless of a fire down the road or tragedy across the world, He has placed me where I am and my only task is to be faithful to the job given me.  He asks nothing more and nothing less and provides abundant grace for the job at hand.  

And wouldn't the enemy love it if I just quit praying and gave up on my job of raising souls?????  You betcha.  

So, I will be faithful in my current job and continue to pray.  I'm not fighting with weapons and fancy technology this time...but He is far more powerful.

For those that are in the fight, literally, we will fight the best way we know how: with prayer.  God speed.    

Joy and our Current State of Affairs

I recently read this excerpt from the following blog: 

(http://www.aholyexperience.com/2014/07/the-pink-outfit-move-beyond-surviving-to-choose-joy-and-rest/?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+HolyExperience+%28Holy+Experience%29)

"It’s easy when you’re young to believe dreams can come true.

But if you’ve ever truly had a perfect moment carry you to a place of belief—whether it be a positive pregnancy test, a romance, friendship, a parent, your health, a career, maybe a home or a life-long passion —and then had it taken away, then you know what it feels like to see something perfect end up in the refuse of broken dreams and mismatched opportunities.

You begin to wonder whether anything is worth delighting in again."

     The writer goes on to describe the definition of being 'joy-wounded'.  I relate to it in terms of being disappointed.  And in my case, disappointment leads further down the road of independence and protecting myself from further disappointment.  Why?  because hoping in something, allowing yourself to experience joy leaves you so stinkin' vulnerable.  But independence can also be so very tiring.  

     Just as so many other spouses have done, are doing and will continue doing, I'm flying solo for a bit.  That means I am the de facto parent, teacher, coach, nurse, bad guy, good guy, chauffeur, chef, baker, maid, accountant, lawn person (can't think of the word), life guard, and most recently, plumber.  I'm not asking for any accolades - so many of my peers have done it and most for much longer periods of time! 

     But that leads me to this pic of the current state of affairs in my kitchen: aka my first experience uninstalling a dishwasher.  Also a visual of how my brain feels at times.  And a good excuse for not cooking dinner tonight...again.  :)  

Here's the background on the dishwasher:  we replaced our broken one a few weeks ago before my husband left.  He installed it.  It worked.  For a week.  Then it broke.  The week he left.  The company agreed to swap it out for a new one, but installation is now on me.  :)  I have friends standing by waiting for the word to help install the new one, but I figured I wanted to save them time and energy and now that I uninstalled it, I think I know how to install the new one.  I think.  

After this near disaster (did I mention arm wrestling a rusted valve to try and stop a leak, and yes, the baby scorpion?), I sat down for a breather and read the quote mentioned above.  

How true that my past disappointments have led me to a place of such fierce independence.  Yes, in many ways, independence is a strength - one that I hope to instill in my kids.  But after some time it leads to weariness.  So I need to remember to build in rest.  Physical rest.  Spiritual rest.  Emotional and mental rest.

In rest, I can lean in closer to the Father.  In rest, I can breathe in His Spirit.  In rest, I remember that He has never left my side, nor will ever leave my side.  In rest, I can hope and joy again.  In His rest, I find strength.  

I hope this is a reminder and encouragement for those who are looking to find joy beyond mere survival.  God knows it was a much needed and timely reminder for me.      

And how appropriate that my first niece, Joy, was born two days ago.   Thank you Lord, for Joy.    

      

Say what?? An early Mother's Day Thank You

I'm finally coming out of that crazy, hormonal, unbelievably exhausting phase called the first trimester.....seriously, I think it is some domestic form of torture.  I know it may sound like an exaggeration, but I am just plain 'ol not a fan of the first trimester.  I just want to hibernate and wake up when it's over.

Maybe I can blame it on the hormones and sleep deprivation, but I'm about to be brutally honest about something here:  when posed with the question regarding kids, 'knowing what you do, would you do it all over again'??? I didn't immediately answer 'yes, of course!'  I know.  I know.  Feel free to judge me as a less than stellar mom for even hesitating to answer yes, but again, I'm choosing to be transparent here.  It's a question that really stuck with me and I wondered what was wrong with me for not immediately answering yes.

See, there are many, many (probably most??) moms who would immediately answer yes to that question.  I admire you.  I know many of you.  I truly respect those moms that are working their very darndest (not sure if that's a word) to raise the next generation in the best way they know how - working moms, stay at home moms, mentor moms, teen moms - all forms.  But I, for whatever reason, hesitated in saying yes.

In the end, I came to the conclusion that of course I would have kids all over again...but sometimes, like lately, when it just feels like you're in the thick of it, I question and doubt.  I have moments when I couldn't be more thankful to be with my kids in these little years....and then I have moments when I want to run away.  I have moments when I'm amazed by the questions they ask...and then I have moments when I just can't take another 'question' and can feel my brain cells dying (again, being brutally honest here).  I have moments when I so enjoy watching my kids play...and then I have moments I just want to press a mute and freeze button.  I have moments when I truly joy over them and then I have moments when I want to sign them all up for day care and get a job at starbucks..or mcdonald's, or a greeter at WalMart.  I have moments when I in am awe of all our little blessings and then I have moments where I want to run away...oops, I already mentioned running away.

So I couldn't really trust my feelings to answer this question.  I had to stick with what I 'know' in my head.  I know that older moms have said over and over again, 'enjoy the little years...they go by faster than you think.'  I have heard them say countless times, 'it's hard, but so worth it'.  Sometimes when you're in the thick of it, surrounded by the fog and haze of exhaustion and relentless demands/jobs, it's those seasoned voices that help you through the dark tunnels.  It's when those older moms bend down with arms wide open and swoop your kids up in a big 'ol hug that remind you of the joy of little ones.

And when you feel beaten down and at the end of your rope, it's those other moms who are on the same journey with you who come beside you and offer a hand, dust you off, offer a glass of wine, and ease your burden just a bit - these friends are gold.  And the really good ones?  They hold you accountable:  to ask your kids for forgiveness and then tell you to move on.  None of us are perfect.  Don't beat yourself up.  You're doing a good job.

And then factor in the military or any job where you move often, uproot and try to 'root' again, and do this parenting thing often far from family and too often solo while a spouse is in another country.  Whew.  That's what makes those mentor moms and moms on the same journey that much more precious to me.  I appreciate you all so much and you mean more to me than I could ever really express.

See, as long as I've been a mom, we've lived far from family....And growing up, I had a happy childhood, but both my parents worked long hours to make ends meet and when your parents go through a divorce, it tends to suck up their emotional availability.  So when I became a mom I had to learn so much from scratch....trial and error...which is why I'm pretty convinced that God sent me some awesome mentors and friends to teach me what I clearly didn't know.  I know some a.m.a.z.i.n.g. moms. Not because they are perfect, but because they simply care for those around them in such selfless ways.

Which brings me to a big 'say what'?  If you are familiar with Young Life, then you are probably familiar with Young Lives.  It's a ministry for teen moms.  We've been involved with Young Life for years and have loved working with teens...and though I knew about Young Lives I never felt called to it.  Until now.  We live in an area where the teen parent population is h.i.g.h. and God has put a burden on my heart for those young moms.  And go figure, God has put the same burden on another mom that I'm thankful to call friend.  :)  When my days are long, my heart aches for those young moms who are pregnant/have kids and who are just kids themselves.  See, my days may be trying, but I have one of the most amazingly supportive husbands. e.v.e.r. And he's also an amazing dad.  Many teen moms don't have a support network, sometimes not even a place to live (when they get kicked out by family), and oh yeah, are just trying to finish high school.

So after much prayer...and we're still praying...we're hoping to launch Young Lives here.  We want to help bring beauty from ashes.  Show these young moms the redemption of Jesus.  Show them acceptance in Christ instead of condemnation.  Look after the fatherless.  Save lives of both babies and moms and dads.  See families restored.  We're just a couple of moms who sometimes don't exactly feel like we're doing the job right with our own kids...but we feel burdened for our city of teen moms.  I feel wholly under qualified for this endeavor, but just trusting His lead.  Please pray for us as we begin this adventure.

And to those friends who have 'mothered' me, Happy Mother's Day!      

Trust....and Getting my Butt Kicked

I mentioned a while ago that I got to experience an awesome weekend at a Young Life women's retreat at Lost Canyon, AZ.  Since then, there have been some l.o.n.g. days where I ended flat on my back, feeling just a whee bit defeated.  And I kept coming back to some of the things I took away from that women's retreat.

The first night of the retreat, one of the gals leading music said something that made me really pause.  She reminded us that we often know that God loves us and is with us, but we sometimes forget that He is FOR us.  I suddenly realized that I viewed God through that lens.  It was such a simple, yet significant revelation to me.  See, I have experienced people who I know love me, not standing up for me.  There have been moments where people who say they love me, didn't stand up for me/defend me/fight for me when I needed it most.  And it left it's mark.  And I have been so very guilty of the same.  Let me be clear that I am just as guilty of this.

And the way I've experienced this, made me view God's love for me the same way, without even realizing it.  I know that I am loved.  I know that I am a child of a King.  I know these things in my deepest of hearts...but for some reason I've doubted that He is for me.  That He goes before me, battles on my behalf, advocates for me and has my back.  That he, the King of all Kings fight for little 'ol me.  It says it clearly in Psalm 56:9 "This I know, that God is for me."  Could it be any clearer?

Yet, to be honest, it has been hard for me to fully grasp and understand this.  On the days that are long and I begin to wonder if I'm just doing this all wrong because it just seems so hard, I don't exactly 'feel' like He is for me.  It's hard to feel like someone is fighting for you when you just feel so tired and weary. And the days when everything lines up perfectly, the kids actually act like civilized human beings, I have more energy than normal, the lack of adult conversation somehow doesn't get to me and I cross almost everything off my to do list....those days, I thank God for those days, but somehow still struggle to remember that He is for me.  It's just such a foreign concept to me that I'm still learning how to embrace.  Here's a teeny example of what I mean:  when I've had to correct how my kids say something for the gazillionth time, clean up after the umpteenth meal that I've had alone with them, or joy over them learning to ride a horse and praise them for helping the little one with her shoes - where in all the chaos and mundane that the world never sees, where/how am I supposed to see that He is FOR me?

And the place I return to is trust.  It almost seems like the beginning of my faith...when I didn't truly 'get' it all...(I still wonder about Jonah and the whale!), crossed my arms and had so many questions, yet there was enough reason for me to trust.  Maybe it just boils down to the home you were raised in, maybe it was a life changing event, or because whoever told you about this savior Jesus, was someone you trusted with all your heart.  In the beginning, I definitely didn't understand it all (obviously still don't!)...but I trusted because I understood just enough.  And slowly, this journey of faith, getting to know Him better has confirmed that my trust was not misplaced.  So, here I go again...trusting that He is indeed FOR me and that I will understand this better in days to come as it is revealed to me.         

Filled to the brim

Life has been moving at a fast pace the past two weeks....for good reasons!  Visits with great friends a birthday celebration and a women's young life retreat at Lost Canyon.  All awesome.  I was undecided on the decision to go to the retreat until pretty much the last minute, but I am SO glad I did.  My husband rock star'd (a new term/verb???) it as we drove from Denver to Albuquerque, where he dropped me off to link up with some fantastic gals, then took our crew another six hours home, unloaded, unpacked and got the house back in functioning order so that I returned late last night to a CLEAN home.  :)

After having a week of wonderful visits with friends, I switched cars in Albuquerque and couldn't shake the feeling of being homesick.  But I wasn't homesick for my family (it had only been a few hours) or for our new home (though I do like our new town!)...yet I just couldn't shake the feeling of being homesick.  I asked God what I was so homesick for.....and it hit me.  I was homesick for the community, familiarity, bonds, memories, inside jokes, history and memories that come with old, tried and true friendships.  I was in a car with some beautiful ladies on a way to a retreat with the promise of new relationships, but it was a stark contrast to the weeks worth of familiarity that I had just left.  I had not been that homesick since I was a little girl.

But if there was ever a cure for homesickness, a weekend at a Young Life camp did the job for me.  If you have never been to a YL camp and come across the opportunity to go, here is my unashamed plug:  GO.  EXPERIENCE.  You will not regret it one iota.

From the minute we walked into our rooms and saw the adorable goodies waiting for us on our beds and decorations, to the amazing music crew, the hilarious program characters and the speaker who breathed life into my tired bones, it was clear that everything was done with excellence for His Name's sake.  Oh, did I mention the food???  Yep.  Just as awesome.  This ain't your average camp food.  Oh no siree!



Late during the first night, my homesickness began to fade....because I was back in a familiar place.  It wasn't because I had been to Lost Canyon before or because I was with my best friends.  It was my first few hours at Lost Canyon and I had known a couple of the ladies for only a few hours.  Instead, it was the familiarity of being with a group of folks who all wanted the same thing:  to experience and glorify God.  As we sang songs of praise, laughed hysterically at the program and heard the words of God through our speaker, it seemed to me a glimpse of what heaven could be like.  Where we sing to our Creator, laugh with joy and hear His voice.  It was all about Him and it WILL be all about Him.  

Bottom line:  for 36 hours, the retreat staff and crew poured into us.  POURED into us in every way.  These are just a few highlights that I walked away with and can't wait to share:

1) He is FOR us.  Psalm 56:9.  A gal who led the praise reminded us that though we know we are loved by God, sometimes we forget that He is FOR us. This was something I really needed to hear:  I have experienced folks who I know without a doubt love me, but weren't FOR me when I needed them to be.  I needed to hear that God is FOR me.  

2) In the story of Mary and Martha, Nick our speaker, pointed out that Martha was not told that she was doing a bad thing.  She wasn't sinning in her actions.  Jesus just merely points out that Mary had chosen the 'better thing'.  I feel overwhelmed by the many 'good' things I try to do/feel the need to do... but I am learning to discern and choose the 'better thing'.

3) Don and Renee Wooster gave a marriage seminar and it was EXCELLENT.  Their words of wisdom made me want to love my husband even better.  And they encouraged us in how to do it.  They were transparent, real and such a breath of fresh air.    

And the last thing I'll mention:  the group of ladies I had the privilege to be with.  WOW.  In the hours spent in that minivan, I saw these gals with new eyes...through the eyes of God.  Their stories are not mine to share, but my best description of their lives is 'beauty from ashes'.  I came in with the impression that they were a secure, flawless, beautiful, professional, confident group of gals that I was just a wee bit, maybe slightly intimidated by.  But their stories and scars make them real, beautiful, women that God is using for His Glory and I feel blessed to call them friends.

I can't wait to share more.......I need to pour it out because I am filled to the brim.  

The dreaded F word....

Does anyone else remember the choose-your-own-adventure books growing up?  I have vivid memories of devouring those books one after another.  You would start with one scenario, then you were offered one of two choices for the next scenario and so on until you got to the end.  Of course I would always go back and try every single combination of scenarios until I exhausted every outcome.  And that is what my brain does when I give in to the dreaded F word....FEAR.

I don't typically think of myself as a worrier....or someone who has any abnormal fears (except snakes...I don't even like the stuffed animal versions...much less those pretending to be harmless behind glass displays....yuck, yuck, yuck....I would shoot one with a shotgun in a heartbeat).  But lately, I have been thinking of so many 'what if' scenarios.

 It's everything from little to big things.... we just had some hand, foot, mouth nastiness around here and I started thinking 'what if we just keep passing it on and we never kick it and never get to play with other people ever again?? it'll just keep mutating and between six folks in this house we'll just keep kicking it back and forth and become hermits for the next year and be known as those weird hand,foot,mouth people'.  See??  I quickly digress into a hopeless scenario.  Or swing to the other end of 'big stuff'....regarding our job and the Army - separation boards are coming up and my husband's class is one of those under evaluation.  What if in some crazy scenario we get separated and all the sudden we have no job (because I don't currently work...but I guess maybe I SHOULD be working then, just in case....or go back to school and get another degree...but what would I study???) and what if we need to move again?  I start analyzing our savings and investments and wonder what if?? Wow.  I'm pretty sure I burn more calories with my mental worry than I do in a 5 mile run.  And of course there is everything in between..... what if my kids grown up to be miscreants and terrors to society?...what if my kids fall in a pool and drown (almost happened today)?...what if I eat this/that and the chemicals cause me to grow a tumor in five years?...what if we buy this couch now and regret it???...

I am not saying to throwing prudence and wisdom to the wind...but there is a mighty fine line between wisdom and fear.   I walk that tightrope daily...sometimes hourly.

So, I was wrestling with how to combat these fears.  Because if you let it run rampant, it can devour you, your thoughts, and above all, your witness.  And then a verse came to mind from Proverbs:  "The fear of the Lord is wisdom and knowledge of the Holy one is understanding."  And the reminder to fear the Lord above all else is found again and again elsewhere in Proverbs, Psalms, Job and Ecclesiastes.  Even King David, a man after God's own heart, gave in to fear when he took a census of his troops before going to battle.

I pull a "king David" all the time...a fear comes up...I analyze what I have, my strengths and how to come up with my own solution.  Instead, I think fearing the Lord would mean coming to Him first.  Asking for His counsel and just plain 'ol trusting Him first, above all else.  Sometimes that's a hard pill to swallow and several times this week, all I have been able to mutter is "help me trust You God...help my unbelief".  Someone once reminded me that everything that comes our way, trials and joys, have first passed through the hands of God.  Our Creator.  Creator of the Universe.  So what have I to fear in comparison to that??  

In fear and reverence for God will come the knowledge we seek.  And peace.  And Glory to Him.  I will choose to fear none other than my Holy God.  And pray like crazy for my unbelief.

 

Forgotten

Recently one of my worst fears came true.  I actually forgot that it happened and then felt so terrible after being reminded about it because I had to be reminded about it.  Does that make sense?

I was in a new store with kids in tow and as we were headed out the door, I had a request to make a detour for a potty break.  I was at the front door so I went ahead and decided to park the cart, grabbed my little one from the front seat of the cart, and started walking towards the bathrooms with the bigger two straggling behind.......and they were s.t.r.a.g.g.l.i.n.g. BECAUSE I forgot their sister in the back of the cart!  Yep, I just started walking right off, focused on my task at hand, and had completely forgotten one of my kiddos in the back of the shopping cart.  Thankfully she seemed to take it all in stride and after I retrieved her, took our potty break and got back home I put the whole thing behind me. So I thought.

This same child of mine is known to repeat things over and over and over.  In the past two weeks she kept saying "don't forget me" every single time we got out of the car of walked out the door.  I had no idea why she kept saying it...I just imagined that she had picked up the phrase and was doing her thing. Repeating it.  I finally asked her, "why do you keep saying that?? Have I EVER forgotten you??"  Umm.  YES.  I had.  and she quickly reminded of the event...which I had forgotten, but which had left such an impression on her sensitive heart.  I felt like crumpling and crying and asked her to forgive me, to which she light heartedly said 'yes.  Do you forgive me for fussing?'  oh my heart.  It broke for her that she felt forgotten by me when I had never ever intended to.  It is one of my parenting lows.

And then it dawned on me how many things I forget and how often.  (don't even get me started on my preggo forgetfulness....it includes putting dirty diapers in the FRIDGE.  so yuck.)  I get annoyed when my son forgets to do something I've asked him over and over to do....and forget the degree of Grace I have been given....and should share abundantly with him.

I've also been realizing that I have forgotten how to not be in 'moving mode'.  For the past almost 6 months, we've been in transition and have moved twice.  I keep the mental timeline which ticks down the time til we move again.  I forgot that I don't have to worry about moving again...for a little while at least.

Moving has the affect of making me feel somewhat forgotten.  When you're trying to connect and plug in with an already established group, it's easy to feel forgotten in the mix of things.  When you're far from family it's easy to feel forgotten.  Because life just gets busy sometimes.

The combination of my parenting lows and side effects of moving had me in a place of feeling so unworthy.  Just overwhelmed.  Incapable.

Then someone reminded me of this simple fact.  Because, again, I had forgotten.  That I am BELOVED by Christ.  Despite all my flaws, ugliness, selfishness, failures and shortcomings, He has chosen to LOVE me with the purest, most perfect of loves.  First.  Because of who He is.  And then I remember that He restores all things.  he heals all hurts.  And He renews us.  I remember that I am His Beloved.  And that's all I ever need to remember.