Gaining 3 kids and a little perspective

This week I have the great pleasure of hosting three girls from Africa. These sweet girls come from the poorest of poor communities in Africa. The poverty and disease is overwhelming.

Today is Sunday - I started this post on Monday. The day after I got the girls. Already I felt as if I was gaining perspective - and yet, if I had completed the post it would have come no where close to what I have gained this week.

In perspective, humbleness, love, fear, and desire.

I have learned that I am capable of more love than I could ever imagine. I have also learned that, in some ways, I do not have as much patience as I would like.

I learned that sometimes I let pride get in the way.

I learned that fear can make you quit or egg you on. This week I let it egg me on and was richly rewarded.

I learned that letting go is hard, but when you do so with love, you will gain much.

I learned that I will never, ever get as much done as I would like to. And that no one will care.

I learned that words unspoken can hurt.

I learned that real love is a universal language. Love in a real hug feels so good.

I learned that I am furiously protective - not only of my own family but of those who need it most.

I learned that it is okay to say no, even if it doesn't feel good or make others happy.

I learned so much more in a week than I can ever put in to words. I learned that my story is evolving and it might just be a good one.

What did you learn this week?

Nettie

Letting go

Letting go ...

This year, well the last two years actually, has been a time of letting go.

For me, my friends and my entire family.

One of my best and dearest friends, and her family, hopped on a jet plane this week heading to China for an indiscernible amount of time. It could be three years, it could be ten. They don't know. They are following the Lord's calling and I am, of course, incredibly proud of them and their journey for Him.

But today, I am grieving. I can not explain what this family has meant to me. Or the hopes that I had for our friendship future ... multi family vacations, holidays celebrated together, long evening chats, wine in plastic tumblers, confessions of the soul ... so many plans in my mind. Not to be realized.

Of course it is for the greater good ...

As it has been for the ones before them.

In the past two years a large handful of our friends, and a few relatives, have either moved out of State or out of Country. This has been hard on my people (as I call the immediate family). It has brought on many tears, caused a multitude of conversations about what moving means and required us to appreciate each lovely moment for what it is.

We understand better now that we are the unit. Additions to our unit will come and go, but we - we must stick together and support one another above all. We have also learned that Church isn't about the people - they are a terrific addition - but about Him - ALONE. We can love those in our lives, the ones that come for a season, but we must put Him, the one that will never leave us or forsake us, above all.

But today ... we'll stll grieve a little. Tomorrow we'll live.

Thank you Jesus.

Sometime I hear a sermon on Sunday morning and seem to have forgotten it, and its intent, by the time I leave the parking lot.



Other times, it sticks with me - like a dull ache that won't stop, like a shadow ... I can't quite see it, but I know it's there, following me, nagging me. Making me think.



Last week I heard a sermon, a message, from the man who would be our new Pastor. It has been a long road for our small congregation but we (an by we I certainly mean the Elders and Pastoral search committee) have waited and been faithful to His call above all else. I am absolutely certain that this has paid off. We have an excellent fit.



I digress.


The message was simple; it is not comfortable to follow Christ.

I posted briefly about this nearly two weeks ago, but I was only skimming the surface.

I thought I had been uncomfortable, and in my defense - in my own life I have been ... more than I imagined I could be. Poor health, unreliable finances, broken down cars, marital disharmony, children with attitudes ... and things that I can not bring myself to say out loud much less write. I feel uncomfortable.

I feel lost. Like I am disappearing - not my earthly body but my spirit. The ME that I thought I was ... I guess I am just unsure of my identity. Which is rough to accept. I thought that by some magical age (when is that?) I would understand things .. things would be come easier. I never thought they would be easy, just easier.

They aren't.

Throw into that mix trying to live for Christ. That has been harder than I ever imagined. While the rewards and blessings have been bountiful, the losses have been great.

And I digress again. It is so easy to do.

I could go on and on about the discomforts of my life, but really I am just a selfish, sinful person. What exactly am I sacrificing by loving the Lord? Friends who likely weren't friends in the first place, a discomfort in my marriage - which makes my husband think and requires me to give him more grace than I normally would, a necessity to more accurately discern the cause and effects of my thoughts and deeds? Hmmm, pretty rough stuff.

WHO am I to complain?

I do not suffer persecution for loving the Lord. I can raise my hands high in worship and only worry about others seeing my saggy underarms - I have no fear of arrest or death for my proclamation that God is alive and will return. I am not only able, but called to deliver the Gospel’s message.

And on the other side, I do not go to bed hungry at night (unless it is of my own choosing), but rather I clean out the refrigerator of any leftovers to throw away - or compost - on garbage day. My children have clean drinking water and a (mostly) free education. They are all healthy and have been immunized against any deadly - or uncomfortable - diseases. Our heat is on in the winter and we are never without clothing, in fact we regularly recycle ours with nary a threadbare piece.

We have an incredibly loving and accepting church family who rallies around us in prayer and guidance in times of need.

We have so much, and yet still we yearn for more. And yet, I still manage to feel lost in this world - so uncertain about myself and where I fit in. Does that really even matter?

Getting uncomfortable

You know, sometimes following Christ can be uncomfortable.

While you may feel the internal glow of His love, you are still vulnerable to the external sting of societies view of your path.

I thought when I accepted Christ, confessed my sins and GAVE MY LIFE to Him, things would be smooth. Sunshine and roses anyone? Ummm not so much. Or not at all. At least not the way I had planned or thought or desired.

The more time that passes, the more I know I NEED to be uncomfortable. He needs me to be uncomfortable. When I am comfortable I often forget to seek Him. I do not put Him first. You can bet when I am uncomfortable or scared I cry out - I seek Him with all that I have.

I haven't blogged here since December. I can not begin to express the level of discomfort I have have felt over seven months.

Time to stop. Time to turn to Him first, every day all day. all the time.