Close

So, here's the scene: I'm cooking dinner in my tiny kitchen. As I work, I have the added challenge of maneuvering around, over, and between kids, cars, crayons, coloring books, and a good bit of chaos. For a moment, my culinary attempts cease. I watch and smile. This scene pretty much sums up my life. Countless times I've wondered why my children repeatedly choose to set up shop in the exact.same.place I am working. Why they choose chillin' on a cement floor in the basement watching us exercise in the morning versus sleeping an extra hour in their cozy beds. Why they request assistance doing things they can easily do alone.

It hit me: our little people lack the need to be separated, to have or give space. One thing always brings them comfort and contentment: closeness. They long to be near, to be seen, to be admired. They flourish in feeling wanted, adored, accepted. They look to us as a source of these things; consequently, they remain close.

As demanding as their closeness can be, I treasure it, for I know it won't last forever. My heart is full as I memorize the faces and forms of my sweet children. I know these moments are fleeting and the memories, gold. I know that one day soon they will spread their wings and fly. They will dream big dreams and pursue big goals. They will be independent, mature, grown. The irony of parenting is that we pour ourselves into our children, not to keep them close, but to let them go.

Only one relationship is most mature when we are most dependent: our relationship with our Heavenly Father. One primary goal of parenting is that we imitate to them the love Christ has for them so closely that they begin to grasp it, taste it, glimpse it. Our goal is to mirror that relationship in their lives so that their nearness to Him gives them confidence to leave us. We try and often we fail, but we keep pointing their eyes and their focus to their Heavenly Father - the only One who can fully meet their soul cravings for love, closeness, acceptance, and belonging. We raise them up to send them out - on mission with Him and for Him. We find joy in watching Him captivate their hearts and their dreams. We release them, knowing that the same One who holds us close goes with them, too. He remains close. Forever.

What if?

One of my favorite parts of the stage of life my children are in currently is watching them play make believe. On any given day, they are transported through time and space to become kings and queens of their own empires, they turn our home into a zoo with every child taking on a different animal identity, or they simply recreate the age old game of "house." Pretty much every day, I have to remember to call Ethan by the name "Nick." It's his go-to alter ego, and if I slip up and call him by his given name, he's quick to retort, "You mean, Nick?" :) I love "Nick." I hope he continues to visit our home for quite some time. :)

When I watch my kiddos, I recall countless memories of my own childhood when I did the very same thing. When life was filled with creativity, imagination, innocent fun, and play. When the concerns of the real world just didn't matter and for all practical purposes, didn't exist. When our biggest concern was who got to sit by whom at dinner or whether or not we were going to get dessert that day. Sometimes I miss those days.

But then sometimes, I wonder if I'm still living in them, in a world of make believe. I mean, it's not quite the same - I certainly have tasted some real world struggles here and there. I've watched the news and I've heard the stories. I've felt pain. I've experienced loss. However, my life is rich. My life is blessed. I live in luxuries that millions of people throughout the world only dream of experiencing. We have financial stability, a savings account, and a pretty cool mini-van, if I do say so myself. :) We hit up church each Sunday. We know lots of Bible verses, know all the stories, and have some great rhetoric.

But still, deep down, I feel like sometimes I'm just stuck "playing house." Like I'm living like the real world struggles, the real world needs just don't matter. I mean, of course they matter. But for all practical purposes, it changes very little about how I live.

You see, over the past year or two, God has started us down a path that's changing the face of our faith. And really, it started with one basic question. And from that question has come a barrage of others that are turning our world upside down.

What if? 

What if this is real? What if Christianity is more than going to church on Sunday, raising sweet and obedient children, reading the Bible and praying, tithing 10%, or trying to eliminate sin in our lives? What if it's more than a preferred worship style, some great programs, or a beautiful building to gather in? What if it's more than knowing theology inside and out? What if life is about more than building security, beefing up the 401k, investing, setting up the kids college funds, or establishing a lucrative career? What if we've got it all wrong? What if we're living in a world of make believe Christianity?

What if?

What if we took Scripture at face value? What if we took risks? What if we gave away more than we spent on ourselves? What if we fought for justice for the oppressed, for those who have no voice? What if the plight of the orphan moved us to action, not just to pity? What if the idea of people spending an eternity in Hell broke our hearts and compelled us to do something? What if we cared more about the Gospel than our safety? What if we threw our long term plans out the window and let God write our story? What if the poverty and corruption and persecution endured by millions throughout the world moved us to the core and drove us to action? What if we stopped investing millions of dollars into elaborate church buildings and instead provided for millions of people living in utter destitution in places all over the globe? What if we stopped making the church about a place and more about a people radically devoted to following Jesus Christ? What if we invested the fabric of our lives into the message we say we believe? What if we followed the example of our Savior who forsook Heaven and gave ALL for the sake of the Gospel? What if we read Scripture and lived like it were really true?

"Whoever wishes to save His life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake, he is the one who will save it." (Luke 9)

If anyone has material possessions and sees a brother or sister in need but has no pity on them, how can the love of God be in that person? Dear children, let us not love with words or speech but with actions and in truth. (1 John 3)

Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress. (James 1)

Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth...lay up for yourselves treasures in Heaven... Do not be anxious about tomorrow...(Matthew 6)

Come now, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a town and spend a year there and trade and make a profit”— yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes. Instead you ought to say, “If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that.” (James 4)

“Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. On that day many will say to me, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many mighty works in your name?’ And then will I declare to them, ‘I never knew you...(Matt 7)

I am haunted by these words. For I would tell you in a heartbeat that I believe them to be true, yet in reality, my daily life shows little evidence of my belief. Most of my decisions are made based on what is comfortable for me, what is logical, what fits the schedule, what other people say is most practical, and most importantly, what is safe. According to Jesus, it's possible to have all the rhetoric right, and even do some good stuff in His Name, but still miss the point entirely. That thought terrifies me.

I recently read a quote from an atheist stating that her Christian friends are mostly just like her except they are really busy on Sundays. I also recently read a quote from a pastor living in a country in which followers of Christ are greatly persecuted who stated that they pray daily for the plight of the American church.

I can think of no greater tragedy than this: that those of us who claim a relationship with the Almighty, Supreme God of the Universe often live no differently than those who don't. We keep God in a human-sized box. We center our lives around our own provision, our own comfort, our own logical plans. We fill our lives with the same possessions, entertainment, and activities as those who don't know Him. We are all about going to church, but not so much about being the Church. We squeeze God into the extra spaces, when there's time. We make decisions based on what is logical, what is comfortable, what is financially feasible and what is safe. We call this wisdom. We call this stewardship. 

But God, in His loving, gentle, persistent way, calls us to more. To a life of unconventional, radical surrender. To a life that makes no sense to an unbelieving world, but perfect sense in light of Scripture. To a life of action. To a life of servanthood. To a life of willingness. To a life that can only be explained by the power of the Holy Spirit. To a life consumed by the Gospel. To a life lived with eternity always in view. To a life of joy. To a life of freedom. To a life of struggle, sacrifice, and pain. To a life of complete risk, but eternal safety. To a life utterly devoted to His Name and His Glory.

It's time to stop playing make believe. To stop investing our lives into things that won't follow us into eternity. To live like it's real. To live like it matters.

Because in the end, it is ALL that matters.

What if?

Some Days

So, I hate mention it, but some days we really have it together around here. You know, those days where the kids sleep in long enough for me to have some time to exercise, read, sip a cup of coffee, AND take a peaceful shower before they open their sweet little eyes. Where the kids wake up vibrantly refreshed and cheerful, have a jolly old time playing together, using their imaginations, and giggling their way through the day. Those days where none of them have a nose running like a faucet, they all choose kleenex over nose picking, and they all make it to the toilet AND remember to flush. Those days where they play nicely with their things and somehow remember to pick them up, too. Those days where we use words like "Sweetie" over "Meanie!" and phrases like, "I love you" over "I'm not going to be your friend anymore!!" You know. Those days.

Of course to be fair I have to include those other days. You know, those days when you wake up to a kid sitting on your head loudly telling you they want breakfast, where you can barely pry your eyes open to crawl out of bed, let alone keep up with their already explosive energy. Those days where they wake up fighting, where they pick and poke and peck at each other so consistently that tears and tantrums break out every 5 minutes. Where after an hour or so of that, you officially hit the limit and completely lose it correct them and snap something to the effect of, "STOP FIGHTING AND SHOW SOME SELF CONTROL!!" (ahem.) Where you're so glad that you can start the day afresh after a good night of sleep and decide begin the bedtime process, only to realize it's only 11AM. ;) You know. Those days.

And of course while I say all of this with perhaps some slight exaggeration, I hope I'm not alone in this: some days raising littles are just plain beautiful, and others feel a bit more like survival. And for a fam of 6 that has just moved internationally and are now adjusting to a new time zone, a new culture, a new way of life, not to mention living out of suitcases for a few months and currently residing in a tiny two bedroom apartment with no way of transport save our own two feet, not to mention the emotional stress of all of the goodbyes we've had this past month... Well, let's just be real, here. We all have had our roller coaster moments, and we definitely have not found our new normal quite yet.

And so this last week when the Lord kept repeatedly placing a certain Scripture into my mind and before my eyes, I have tried to latch on and treasure it's Truth: Hebrews 13:8 - Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever.

The same. The same. The SAME.

We never have to wonder about our Jesus. We don't have to try to guess His mood, relieve His stress, help Him cope. We don't have to doubt His character, question His power,  or wonder if He's going to have the patience and strength to deal with us today. In the midst of our unpredictable, ever changing lives, He's the constant. Every other thing in our world will at some point change in some way, but not Jesus. He's the anchor. He's ever near. He's the steadfast, holy, good, loving, caring, burden bearer that never leaves us, that walks with us through every change and through it all remains. The same.

And as I reflect on that Truth about my Savior, I find myself asking Him to build into my life that kind of consistency. The kind where my moods and my speech and my actions are not determined by how I feel or by my circumstances, but by what is true. Where regardless of my situation, I love like He does, care like He cares, give like He gives. Where I trust when it's hard and when I can't explain why, when I walk in Truth both when I'm comfortable and when I'm not. I pray that God gives me the grace to be consistent, because He is.

It all comes full circle, you know. Because when my life looks like His, I can say to those beautiful little people that He has placed in my care, "Imitate me, as I also imitate Christ." (1Cor11:1)

So while I know that I will fail, I make it my aim to be like Him. And the next time we have one of "those days," may it point us all to the one who remains the same. Not just some days...but ALWAYS.

Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever.

Securely Uprooted

Well, we made it. We arrived in Europe with all of our luggage AND all of our children, without losing even one. ;) (I consider this in and of itself a great success, by the way.) We are here, re-learning the culture and the language, walking (a lot!) and exploring our German village, romping around on old castle grounds, trying out sweet treats at the local bakeries, traveling cross country by train, and trying to adjust to the cold, rainy weather that seems to want to hang on indefinitely. Almost daily I hear envious comments about how exciting our lives must be.

I mean, we are a "military family," and moving is what we do. It's all part of the job description. Traveling, seeing the world, having friends all over the globe, experiencing new cultures, and learning to acclimate to change. We're used to that. Right?

Part of me would say, "Yes! Of course we are!", because that is just what we do. We pull it together, talk it up to the kids, expound on how wonderful it is that we get to experience all of these amazing things. We are strong and brave and adventurous. We have to be. Right?

Maybe?

Kind of.

Not really.

Let me share the not so glamorous side, the side where your heart crumbles its way through each goodbye because after pouring so much into these relationships, you have to leave them. Again. Where you physically ache watching your kids uprooted, torn from what they know and love, crying over their losses, insecure over all the unknowns awaiting. Where you plan and clean and obsess organize and think you're good to go only to find that the movers packed a toilet brush in your kitchen supplies and somehow forgot to bubble wrap your picture frames, so they're all shattered. Where you show up at a new place knowing no one, getting lost every time you go out, feeling lost inside even when you stay in. Where you lay in bed at night and think about the life you loved that you just left, silent tears streaming from your eyes, an ache in your heart, feeling alone, insecure, emotionally exhausted.

I'm sure there are some very strong and mature ways to respond to this, but let me tell you what happened this time. I sort of unconsciously, inwardly dug my heels in and went on strike. I was done. I was not pasting on a fake smile and acting like I was fine. I refused. Nor would I pretend to be excited about this new place. I was not. In my mind there was no bright side.

I am a miserable person when I do this. If you don't believe me, ask Brandon. ;) And because he knows me so well and loves me regardless, he called me out on my horrid attitude and then sent me out for a run. ;)

And as my feet pounded the pavement, the mental assault began:

"I'm too tired to do this again. I don't even want to try...."

"I hate this."

"I would not have chosen this."

"I'm tired of being the newbie all the time.  I want some roots. Is that too much to ask?"

"I just want a place to call home."

"If I hear another word in German, I'm gonna...I'm gonna...ugh, I don't know what I'll do."

"I feel so insecure."

Finally. I was being honest. I've found that in that broken, raw, real place, God shows up. He doesn't value my pretense, and He's big enough to handle my erratic, vacillating emotions. And when I move my eyes past myself suddenly, I see Him again. In reality He's never moved. And with the reminder of His Presence comes reinforcements against the assault. Thoughts like this:

"Rest is the result of faith. Do you TRUST Me?"

"Choose to believe I am who I say I am, that I can do what I say I can do. I am enough. Resist the temptation to believe the lie that you need more."

"It's not about YOU."

"Everything changed, but NOTHING changed. Your eternal constants remain secure - always."

"We rejoice in sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, endurance produces character, and character produces HOPE, a hope that will not disappoint..." (Rom 5)

Perspective.

It's amazing what God can communicate to me while I run. I'm fairly certain I would be clinically insane if I gave it up. :)

And so the beauty of being uprooted in this way is that with God, nothing is haphazard. He is not surprised, overwhelmed, stressed, or challenged by such things, nor is He taken off guard by my reaction to them. He patiently brings me back to Himself and reminds me that He is faithfully weaving together our story, a story that starts and ends with Him. He uses these moments to remind me to anchor my life in Him, to press into Him, to cling to my Constant in the midst of the upheaval. He reminds me that He always accomplishes His Purposes. He reminds me that He is worth it, worth everything. He reminds me that the Gospel is worth my life and utter devotion. He reminds me that life is far too short to hold anything back, that I will never stand before Him one day and wish I had given less.

He reminds me that while we are uprooted, we are secure.

Securely uprooted.

In which I resurrect the dormant blog...

It's only been a couple years since my blogging fell by the wayside, and I've been meaning for awhile to get back into it. Even if I never have another blog follower in the world, I do miss writing, processing on "paper." And I love going through old blogs remembering, reminiscing, and reliving some of those moments. :)

So, here I am this afternoon after staying awake far too late last night trying to figure out how to import my old blog into a new blog, then format said blog, which included trying every font, color, and style available before going back to the first one I tried. And while this was totally not worth staying up half the night, I have to say I became so addicted to working in a peaceful, uninterrupted setting that I just couldn't stop. :)

And so today my brain is fuzzy and I'm fighting a no sleep headache-quickly-morphing-into-migraine-proportions. I must question if I made the right choice. I had every intentions of making my "come back blog" nice and snazzy, with thought provoking and life challenging words. BUT...good grief...I'm tired!

And clearly, the late night blogging mania snatched valuable hours of beauty sleep as well, which was evidenced when sweet, honest Ellie arrived in our room to cuddle at the very crack of dawn. As she snuggled up to us, she looked intently at our faces before saying, "Mommy's nose is much wider than Daddy's." She then pauses. Studies our faces closely. Reiterates, "Yep, I can see all the way inside Mommy's because it's so big." :-D

Parenting may not be so good for my ego, but it does wonders for my humility.

And...yawn...that's all I've got.

Welcome (back) to my world. :-D

Confident

This past Sunday our pastor shared a phenomenal sermon called "Faith Under Fire." There were several times throughout the service that I heard sniffles and saw a gal or two grab kleenex from their purses (and yes, I fought a few tears of my own). The subject of faith really resonates with me right now. Perhaps it's because in the past few years, God has beckoned our family on a faith journey we never really pictured ourselves taking. And while at the beginning I fought the whole idea tooth and nail, it's amazing how persistent God can be at working on our hearts and leading us to dream His dreams for us.

For me, dreaming God's dreams for us has involved a complete shift of what I perceived as a normal and healthy lifestyle. It has meant accepting the fact that I will often have to say goodbye to my husband, knowing he's heading into dangers I may never hear about or fully understand. It means many days of single parenting, trying to figure out how to fill both roles. It means I have to wipe tears off the faces of lonely children who desperately miss their Daddy and who don't fully understand why he is gone. It has meant many lonely, restless nights. It has meant facing head on some of my deepest fears - fears I would rather have left unspoken, untouched, unacknowledged. It has meant asking a lot of "what ifs" and not really having answers.

Our pastor made a statement that hit me hard on Sunday and has come to my mind over and over again since.

God is convinced that your relationship with Him is all you need.

God is convinced.... God is convinced. But am I? The great, liberating gift about being asked to walk on an uncertain path that stretches me and challenges me is this: every day I am forced to face that question. Do I believe that He is enough? Am I convinced?

Dreaming God's dreams for me has also meant embracing the reality that when I am surrounded and filled with God's Presence, I am complete. It requires me to decide and live in the Truth that the eternal rewards of following my Savior far outweigh the struggles I face in the here and now. The amazing part of it is that there is a freedom and a joy that comes in reliance on Christ - a liberation that comes in sustaining yourself in the only One who is truly faithful, able, and capable of meeting every single need of your heart.

But I have to be honest. Sometimes it's easier for me to surrender my own heart, my own hurts, and my own struggles. It's another thing entirely to believe these same things for my children. It's another thing to watch them hurt and to know that they are hurting because we chose this path for them. Even though we are confident we have followed God's leading, our biggest questions and concerns surface when we think about our kids. Sometimes it makes me literally ache inside. And yet, this week, I have felt the gentle whisper in my heart asking, "Are you convinced? Am I enough? For you? For THEM?" There is no greater gift that my children could ever receive from us than to see authentic faith and to learn to walk in it. Shielding them from pain isn't always helpful; in fact, it may sometimes hinder them from learning how desperately they need their Savior. God has clearly called us to this road and kept us here. I have to believe, then, that He is going to provide for every single need we face. And not just for Mommy and Daddy, but for our sweet children, too.

There's a song that has become our theme over this past year. It's an oldy, but a goody. :-) I'll type out the lyrics below. No matter how hard I try, I can't listen to it without crying. There have been several times Brandon and I have turned it on before he's headed "out" and quietly listened to it as the tears streamed down our faces. Sometimes following our Savior requires every ounce of energy we have. But we know, we are convinced, it's more than worth it. He is enough.

Press On (By Selah)

When the valley is deep
When the mountain is steep
When the body is weary
When we stumble and fall

When the choices are hard
When we're battered and scarred
When we've spent our resources
When we've given our all

Chorus:
In Jesus' name, we press on
In Jesus' name, we press on
Dear Lord, with the prize
Clear before our eyes
We find the strength to press on

In Jesus' name, we press on
In Jesus' name, we press on
Dear Lord, with the prize
Clear before our eyes
We find the strength to press on
To press on

Excuses, Excuses...

So there are a lot of things I could blame on my lack of posts lately:

• Single parenting: Brandon is away this month, and by the time I get the munchkins in bed for the night, I rarely have the gumption to do a whole lot more than crash myself. :-) Thankfully, the man of the house should be returning sometime this weekend. We are super duper excited to hear his voice again, give him lots of hugs and kisses, and throw him a party (the kids are planning quite the bash including silly string, party poppers, signs and banners, cupcakes decorated by little fingers, and cookies.) I'm sure Daddy will be thrilled.

• Trips and Travels: We had the great opportunity to head up to TC for 2 weeks to spend some time with my fam. It was a wonderful, relaxing, enjoyable time. It's a rare opportunity that we get to have an extended period of time with my parents. Since they both work and normally only get evenings with us, the kids don't get a whole lot of play time. :-) It was so fun to make up for that this time. The highlights were: late Easter egg hunts, trampoline jumping, playing soldiers with Papa, dance parties, Mario Cart on the Wii, meeting up with friends/family, and last but certainly not least, spending time with Mr. Shawn and Auntie Lins.

• Baby Bumps and Nights of Nausea: yeppers, I'm finally coming clean with the news! We are expecting Baby Brown #4, making his or her grand debut in December. :-) We are elated, and the kids are over the moon excited. It's been so fun watching them react to the news and go crazy over all things baby. This child has caused quite a bit of discomfort for mama lately, though, and at 14+ weeks, I just keep hoping that someday soon I'll find some relief. This is the first time around that I haven't found the 2nd trimester to bring automatic relief, but the upside is that this is great motivation to keep a clean toilet. ;-)

I guess that would be my top 3 in what could be a long list of excuses, but I do plan to be back sooner than later. :-) For now, it's time to get my sweeties off to bed so I can crash. ;-)