in Dad's footsteps

Yesterday Shawn, his dad, RJ, and I went for a walk in the woods behind my in-law's house.  Shawn was reminiscing about life there growing up, and even commented, "This is where my love of adventure started."  RJ came along because his other option was jumping on the trampoline with his siblings, and he hates that.  So he decided to trudge along with us.  He was quite a trooper, and ended up enjoying the walk.  We saw a pond full of beavers and their dams, raccoon and deer tracks, turkey feathers that quickly became a treasure and even a brand new baby deer bedded down in the field outside the woods.  It was a wonderful walk through nature!

At one point we were walking through a path that was filled with pricker bushes.  I got stuck on a few and Shawn helped me out, then RJ was feeling intimidated to walk by them.  Shawn started tromping down the path in front of him and told RJ to follow his path.  Whenever he was nervous he would look back at me, and I would simply remind him to follow his dad's footsteps and he would stay safe and pricker free!  When we got to the clearing and saw that the field was higher than RJ's height, Shawn put him on his shoulders so that he could see easily and feel  safe again.

It's an obvious parallel, but when I saw it played out in real life with RJ and his dad I was reminded again of how much my Dad loves me.  How sometimes he allows me to wander off and explore and figure things out, but he is nearby watching.  Other times he is tromping down the path in front, and as long as I am careful those prickers won't get me - or at least not to the point of destruction.  Then there are those times (often) when I am in over my head and he carries me so I can see clearly and feel safe.  I am thankful for this relationship.  And I am thankful for a God who takes the simple, beautiful things in life to remind me of the things that should be obvious.

the sappiest top ten

Shawn and I have been married for 17 years today!  In this day and age, that is an eternity!  We do a lot of marriage  counseling and pre-marital counseling with other people, and because of that I am often of reminded of how blessed I am, and how much marriage is a gift from God.  This post is not meant to hurt anyone out there struggling with singleness or a hurting marriage - if you are our friends, you know we pray for you constantly!  Actually this post is not designed for anything except to say thanks to God for this full, amazing marriage he has given me!  So here goes...

Ten reason why marriage to Shawn rocks!

10.  I have a live-in bug killer!  As you know from  a recent post, I hate bugs.  I remember clearly when we were in Florida on our honeymoon...we were fast asleep and a big bug crawled on me.  I threw it across the room, then couldn't sleep because I was afraid it would come back!  Shawn patiently got up and looked around, then when he couldn't find it made up some silly story about it coming in to find food for her children, etc., etc.  It was dumb - and made me laugh and forget about being scared of a silly bug.  I knew then (again) that I had made the right choice.

9.  He makes me laugh.  Sometimes he makes me laugh when I am feeling down or sad, and I love that.  Other times I am trying to be mad at him, and he still makes me laugh, which makes me even madder - temporarily.  But there is no shortage of laughter in our marriage.  The times that we have realized something serious is going on and we have sought counseling were those times when we couldn't remember the last time we really laughed together.  I am thankful for a sense of humor - you need it being married to me!

8.  He doesn't do just the "man things" in our work load.  I admit, I am a woman who likes to say, "Anything you can do, I can do better."  But it's just not true.  Nor do I want to do those things.  I love that he takes out the trash, mows the lawn (when we have one), and packs up the car for trips.  But he also puts the kids to bed each night - and has always done that.  He was often the one who woke up in the night to feed howling babies, because he needed less sleep than me (and decided that a little tiredness was better than a grumpy wife!)  He's kind of all-purpose.

7.  He balances me.  My emotions are everywhere and off the chart.  I get caught up in something and want to jump right in.  He looks, prays, asks advice from wise counsel, and prays some more for days (weeks, months...)  I am thankful that we have had a lot less consequences to deal with because of his patience than we would have with me being impetuous.

6.  He is a good friend.  Not just to me (though he is my best friend) but to his other friends.  To become Shawn's friend, it takes time spent together.  He does not make friends that he trusts with his heart easily.  But once he does, you are his friend for life.  He prays for them, he calls, and he tries to visit.  He spends as much time together with them as possible in a world where everyone is on the move and relationships become as in depth as facebook.

5.  And speaking of friends - he is wise is choosing them.  I like the men that Shawn would call his closest friends.  They are fun, love Jesus, challenge him, stretch him, pray for him, give good counsel, and make me laugh.  (You have to have a good sense of humor to be Shawn's friend, too, apparently!)

4.  By being married to Shawn I was adopted into an amazing family!  Not just his immediate family - though they kinda rock.  But his whole family.  And it is a BIG family - I was number 120 from his grandparents on down!  I love it.  I love traveling across the US and staying with cousins all along the way.  I love that there are constantly new additions and that the family really tries hard to get together and be with each other. This summer we celebrate his grandmother's 100th birthday and there will be a ton of family there - I can't wait!

3.  He is a walking encyclopedia.  I hate that when I am playing against him in trivia pursuit.  But in real life I have gotten used to saying to people, "Ask Shawn, he would know."  (I can't believe I am admitting that out loud!)  He retains what I joke to be "useless" fact, but it makes life interesting.  He can tell me baseball stats, stories from history, and he kicks butt in geoguessr (a google game).  He is also willing to try to learn new things.  He has recently bought a bass guitar to learn and even talks of taking a class in mechanics while we are fund raising.  He keeps me on my toes!

2.  He is an amazing dad.  Let me say that again - AMAZING.  Our sons will have no excuse when it comes to growing up to be godly husbands and men - they see it everyday.  And Anna will know exactly how high that bar for a good husband should be.  I anticipate that  our "PK"s won't grow up resenting the church, because they have seen their father be real, genuine, and love what he does and the people he does it with!  He loves the kids wholeheartedly, forgives, asks forgiveness, talks realistically with them, plays games, hugs, laughs, cries, wrestles, snuggles, prays with them, prays for them, and loves me in front of them.  When I married him I suspected this would be the case, but to see it plays out each day takes my breath away.

1.  Finally, he loves me completely, as is.  He loves me more than I love myself often, and is teaching me to love myself better.  He does this by falling in love with Jesus more and more each day.  We have discovered that our relationship with each other can only be as healthy as our relationship with the Father.  So when we start to notice those telltale signs - loss of laughter, joy, time together, etc, we jump back into the Word and start from there.  He is my rock and my best friend.  (Sappy enough for you?  lol)

So there you have it.  Sorry this is not some great, life-changing post (as if any of them are!)  But this is my way of saying thanks to God for this awesome marriage and man,

scars of life

Yesterday the kids and I were talking about scars.  It started when John pointed one out on his arm and said, "I still have this scar."  I told him it might fade, but the scar would always be there if he looked hard enough.  This got us looking all over our arms and legs and talking about the scars and where they came from.  Some of the stories were cool, in a gross out sort of way - bones sticking through skin, cuts from an Africa adventure, and a weird burn scar on Shawn's arm from a lawn mower that the nurse thought he had don purposely for me because it looked like a heart!  Others were more silly or embarrassing - the pencil points stuck in Anna's head and John's leg, or the numerous shaving scars from when I was a teenager (Seems I was always in a hurry!)  There were a few that were not shown, but talked about - the scars from C-sections or gallbladder surgeries.  Shawn also has a scar from his cleft lip surgeries all through childhood.

Scars are kind of cool how they have a story to tell.  Some are good - life giving or life saving even.  Some changed quality of life.  Some are from the everyday bumps and bruises that we get in this life.  Regardless, they all have a story, and they all are a part of us from that point on.

In the evening we were at church and we were talking about the job of the Holy Spirit.  Pastor Chris was writing on the board and putting people's answers up to the question of, "What makes a Christ follower different?"  At the top was, "Forgiveness" and underneath was "Love your enemies."  I was staring at those two things and it clicked in my mind that forgiveness is really the key, because if you forgive, the person is no longer your enemy.  Not if it is something from the past, anyway. (An ongoing forgiveness is a different thing.)  The consequences of the situation may still be there, but like those scars, they will fade.  And like those scars, they each have a story, and that story helps to shape us.

I was thinking about the times in my life when I have had to forgive.  There have been little situations - misunderstandings, hurtful words, etc.  They are like those little scars that we only notice if we look hard.  They are still there and have helped us be molded into who we are today.  Maybe I learned how to be a better friend because of it, or I was reminded that the only perfect in this world is God.  Whatever the outcome, it has become part of me.  The bigger things - abuse, betrayal, etc - those are the big scars that stand out and sometimes make us self conscious.  They might be the ones that we would rather have plastic surgery on and forget.  Yet even if they are covered in makeup or new skin, they are still part of our body and have affected us.  We can try to forget, ignore the repercussions, or look the other way, but ultimately their existence is still very real.  And the consequences are a permanent part of our outlook.

But - just like those scars that people see and we can't hide - those stories of our lives are ones that need to be told and shared.  They are the ones that are used to affect people, to help them learn their own forgiveness, and to have hope in a real future.  When people with a cleft lip (or someone who has gone though it) see Shawn's scar, they are instantly a friend-someone who understands and can bond.  When they find out he has made a life of speaking in public, it is an encouragement and hope.  The same happens with those emotional scars.  When people hear about overcoming abuse and see a life lived in freedom and fullness, they gravitate towards the one who is victorious in it and have their own hope.

Not anythings new, by any means,  Not even close to a new analogy.  But one that was sticking in my mind all day yesterday.  Thank you, Lord, for my life - the good and the bad; the scars and the new healing. 

cockroaches and crabbiness

It's amazing how something so little can be my undoing!  Tonight I saw a cockroach.  Well, actually I saw two - and the second one did not make me react any less than the first!  I know,  I know - I can hear you all now, "You're moving to Africa.  Suck it up, honey."  This is not the first time those little brown (or black, depending on where you live) bugs have made me question my sanity.  A few years ago when we visited what was then Sudan, I wrote a blog about waking in the night and losing it over a cockroach I almost stepped on while going to the bathroom!  (I was trying to post it here, but for some reason the blog has no title.  You can look it up back in 2010 if you want proof!)  Those things give me the creeps!

It's the element of surprise, you know?  There you are - making breakfast  and minding your own business when suddenly one scurries past you on the counter in your peripheral vision!  Too fast to be sure, but not so fast that you have any real doubt!  Or you're putting sunblock on your face and reaching in the bag causes you to screech and yell out your husband's name along with the words, "Kill it, kill it" because it is hiding in the corners of the toiletry bag, it's antennae feeling around and almost touching your hand!  Or you are sleeping at night and you feel something crawling on you so you instinctively do a grab and throw, only to fully wake up and realize with horror that your night of sleeping is done.  Yes. That's my relationship with those little, disgusting creatures.

"You'll get used to it again, Babe," says my patient and brave husband. "You did last time."  I suppose I will.  I remember very clearly in Malawi when I tried to sleep the first night and I tucked my mosquito net in as tight as possible and avoided having any of it touch me.  I watched as lizards ans spiders crawled everywhere and got very little sleep those first few nights - even after a LONG plane ride to get there.  By the end of our time there I was in a store picking up some food to make dinner and a huge rat ran across my feet and into a pile of rice or flour or something at the end of the aisle.  Not my favorite animal, but what was I to do?  I simply laughed and kept shopping.  The horror I would have felt a year earlier was replaced with the practicality of living in a 3rd world country with my family.  It was adjust or have a nervous breakdown!  And God was good in giving me the strength to do it.

These are silly things when compared to the harsh reality that many people live in.  Bugs and rats, really?  But the truth is, I can react this irrationally in many situations that are different from my normal life now.  Sometimes Satan sneaks in the doubt through those little things.  I see bugs and freak out - "Can I do this?"  Last summer while staying in a cabin at Delta Lake I was trying to take a nap because I was sick. It was one of those few NY days where it was almost 100 degrees outside, so the cabin was hot and stuffy and there was no sleep to be had.  One week of heat like that to sleep in and I was grumpy and tired.  I fretted and worried the whole time, "Can I REALLY do this, Lord?"

Nope.  Not on my own.  I already know that.  There's no romantic notions in my head about that part of moving to Africa.  I will still HATE bugs (in my oatmeal, in my bed, in the latrine - there's no good place for any bug); I will love not having snow, but the heat will be oppressive at times and sweat will be my new scent of the day;  I will lose sleep in those nights when the drums beat all night long and the wailing from a funeral happens; I will have times when people I have grown to love get sick or even die from things that should be preventable; and I'll get frustrated, angry,  and overwhelmed by the brokenness of this world more often than I can imagine.  And God will never leave me nor forsake me.  He will be my Rock and me Redeemer, just as he is now.

Just as he was last night, as I actually fell into a deep sleep soon after seeing a roach, and dreamed of flying on a plane and hanging out with friends instead of having a restless sleep for fear of bugs!  I'm a sad case, I know.  ;)  But God still loves me!  

My Rock and my Redeemer

"May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, oh Lord my Rock and my Redeemer."  Psalm 19:14

I have known this verse since for as long as I can remember - it is as easily recitable as John 3:16 to me!  .An amazing woman and pastor's wife, Charm Fields, has had us recite this for as long as I can remember.  When I first learned it, it was like a wonderful prayer.  Many times as I repeated it, I wasn't even paying attention to the words.  But there have been times that it has come back to my mind in the moments I needed it - the way all of God's word does as we take time to memorize and pray through it.

Today I was getting ready for the day and it came to mind as I was praying.  But something strange happened.  Usually as I get to the end - the "Lord my Rock and my Redeemer" part, I kinda mumble through it.  After all, the asking of God to change and reshape our hearts and words is the important part, right?  You could easily insert any name of God there (in my mind), it just happened to be what the Psalmist thought at that moment.

But as I was praying, the end part became a really important, very clear part of the verse.  It was the part that God wanted me to think on.  He is my Rock and my Redeemer!  There is nothing small or insignificant about that!  Because he is my Rock, he is my strength - the one I lean on, stand on, the one that is firm and unchanging - so unlike me.  He is the where my strength comes from.

And he is my Redeemer.  He has ransomed me, rescued me, saved me.  He took my sins and bought life for me with his blood.  Nothing else can replace that - and nothing else has too!  His redemption of me is a permanent thing.

It is because he is these two particular things that I CAN have thoughts and words that are pleasing to him.  It's not a prayer to "try harder" (which is what I so often find myself doing) but rather to live in the truth that the old me is dead and the new me (because of his redemption and because he is unchanging) has words that give life!  These words are of joy, peace, encouragement, hope, and meaning rather than cutting down and causing death and harm.  Because of him my heart is new is the things that flow from it are also life giving and life sustaining.

I'm not a seminary grad.  I don't have fancy letters after my name.  Sometimes I think, "I should have known this before!"  But I am thankful for the things he shows me new everyday - even from "old" things.  

solar powered

I'm pretty sure I'm solar powered.  When the sun is gone, it is cold and damp, and the landscape seems colorless, I feel the same way.  Everything affects me differently in these times.  Oh, I love a good, powerful thunderstorm - as long as it doesn't last for weeks or months. Then bring on the sunshine!  I start to feel like I can do anything, like the world really does have some good people in it, and like there is something to smile about.  And I know most people feel this way, but (ask my husband) I am extreme in it.  I have researched the places in the world where the sun shines the most so that I know where to live!  ;)  (I can't tell you the percentage of days that South Sudan has sunshine, but it's a good bet that they have more than upstate NY!)

Please be in prayer for us as we head south again this week to speak at some churches, meet more people, and soak up the sunshine.  We have a lot more support to raise, and we are praying that this trip helps us on that path and we meet some more people to join us in this adventure.  But we  also are praying that God would refresh and rejuvenate us in every way - physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually.  Would you join us?  Thanks! 

white canvas

I am kind of a control freak.  Yes, I know - I am sure that comes as a surprise to you.  ;)   Well, believe it or not, it still surprises me from time to time!  The tightness that I like to try to hold the reigns in my life is astounding to me at times.  And when things don't happen the way I envision them, it totally throws me off.

Today was a day that I talked, yelled, cried, prayed, and finally surrendered (again) to God.  But this was a different way.  Today I realized that I had to give up my vision of what the future looks like.  I feel confident that God has us working with WHM in South Sudan.  But how that plays out, what it looks like, when, who is with us, and the little details are things that I have come to accept (at least in this moment) that I don't know.  And probably won't until they are happening.  I have had so many paintings  in my head - dreams of how things will look, the time frame, reasons about why those things are "right."  But today, for the first time, I surrendered those paintings.  My gallery, if you will, is nothing but a white wall right now.

I don't really like white walls.

I love color - splashes of bright designs.  Patterns and warmth and designs and artsy stuff.  White walls - well, they seem so plain and boring and lifeless to me.  Clean, yes (well, they wouldn't be in my house), but still still plain.  So to offer up my future, my dreams to God as a white washed canvas is super scary to me.  What if he leaves it that way?

Yet I know that he is the great artist.  Look at this world - the nature, the people, the colors, the vibrant life that is all around us.  Even in the brokenness that is overflowing all around us, he is there and breaking through in abundance.  And if he applies all that color to the world around me, I have to believe he will apply that to me, my hopes, and my dreams.

One brush stroke at a time.  That's where this whole surrendering thing will remain hard.  See, I am a person who loves to cast vision and dream.  So when he makes a blue streak and then stops, I will start to jump to every possibility that could mean.  I will imagine and dream,  and then decide which of my scenarios is the most probable and which is the best according to me.  Then I will start filling in the canvas myself.  Then I'll get angry because God is not having things play out the way I have painted them, and he will have to remind me again that he is the artist.

Don't get me wrong - dreaming and hoping is ok.  But it is important for us - especially people like me who take an idea and run with it - to make sure that these dreams and ideas are actually coming from God.  And even more important for me to keep communicating with God and not get angry because he is not making my own picture come to fruition my way.

 I am not The Artist.