The Hard To Swallow Daily Bread

We've been back from our adventures on the East coast for eight weeks. We've been crunching fall leaves, celebrating a second birthday for Danny Boy and preparing for Christmas! Derek is making incredible progress on our house and enjoying most of the process. My vision in the right eye is back to about 95% and I have a brand new appreciation for the wonder of sight! The boys have been fighting the inevitable 'change of season colds', which means we've been a little reclusive. 

The time has been simple and allowed for the soul-searching I love to do in anticipation of a new year. It's also made me wonder what the next chapter will hold and where it may take our family, which is why this quote caught my attention, 'Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving.' Terry Pratchett 

This may seem rather obvious, but the truth washed over my mind in a fresh way. I struggle with the returning. And it's certainly complicated because there is an undeniable magic wrapped up in 'coming home'. I delight in familiar sights and smells; streets rich with my growing up memories and time spent on the Pearl's porch swings. I crave structure and normalcy and a routine that keeps my head on track. But at the exact same time, I struggle with any form of returning from the 'not normal'. How incredibly complicated that my need to wander is embedded in my DNA right alongside my need for roots. Poor Derek!  

If we're being completely honest, which is the point of this blog, I've been mentally battling my mixed emotions for two years over being back in the sweet, tiny, mountain town where I grew up. Apparently, God and I defined 'transition place' a bit differently and as months turned into years I realized the lesson I was supposed to be learning was contentment regardless of circumstance; peace in the midst of messy unknowns. And I have wrestled with this on so many levels. Then Reactive Arthritis was added to the mix and I've been the walking limping definition of a 'hot mess' on more than one occasion lately!

Two weeks ago I had my follow up with the Rheumatologist. This was the appointment I was supposed to be cancelling when all my symptoms disappeared at the six-month mark; the one we scheduled 'just in case'. Needless to say, realizing I needed to keep the appointment was cause of a little anxiety; I was hopeful for answers but dreading a labeling of 'chronic' upon my not-quite-back-to-normal joints.
Instead of labeling and handing me a fat stack of prescriptions, grace was extended at this appointment. Not that a simple description should make one ounce of difference. But it's certainly unnerving to have your name nonchalantly stuffed into the same sentence as 'chronic' and 'arthritis' and I was deeply relieved when he didn't go there. I am still dealing with occasionally stiff and achy joints as well as minor swelling in my feet. But the doctor saw significant improvement and believes I just need a few more months to completely heal. The journey continues!

Not many days after the 'coming back' quote had me reassessing my issue with small town life, I stumbled upon the words Jesus used to teach his disciples to pray. "Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name, your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven." We know these familiar verses from Matthew 6. But the next sentence says, 'Give us today our daily bread..' and that's where my voice caught in my throat because I realized this is exactly what Jesus has so faithfully done throughout my entire life. He meets me where I'm at today; walking faithfully alongside me, He is the daily bread.
I desperately long for a glimpse at some kind of five-year plan, but he says 'Here's today, Daughter. This is enough for you to deal with!' He also reminds me of truth that I'd really rather not hear, 'You're in this town, this season of life, this battle for health, this struggle to find friendship FOR A REASON. I have you here for such a time as this, and it won't last forever, so don't miss what I'm doing.' Yikes. Daily bread is sometimes hard to swallow!

The Israelites were given both meat and bread from heaven on a daily basis and Exodus 16:18 says 'Everyone had gathered just as much as they needed.' If they collected extra, as I know I would be tempted to do, they awoke the next day to find it rotting in the baskets. All they could do was eat what was given, their daily bread, trusting there would be more the next morning. This could be stressful for those of us with a Costco shopping/pantry stocking mindset but, honestly, what a relief! And I am offered the same 'meal plan', just exactly what I can handle for this day in front of me and the strength to walk through it. Nothing more, nothing less; He holds it all so that I don't have to. (Not that I could, but I have certainly given it my best shot- rotting baskets of manna and all.) 

Wherever I may wander on this incredible globe, the coming back will always be a vital part of the journey. There will be literal returns, to familiar and family, and then there is the spiritual returning and centering in Jesus, the gathering of my daily bread. Not only are these returns a gift to be cherished, but they are exactly what will continue to enable us for the going out.

We are embarking on a new adventure in 2018! Derek was offered a position doing more of the insurance adjusting work that took us to Florida, and this time we are headed to Virginia! We are incredibly excited to explore yet another part of the country and look forward to all that God has in store. As I pack boxes I am filled with the knowledge that whenever we may return to the familiar of Colorado, it will be that much sweeter because of our time away.
While it can be difficult or frustrating to come back to where you started, it matters and can be such a beautiful part of the journey. Now, I'm not saying you should live in your parents basement forever! And the Bible specifically instructs us to move from 'milk to solid food' as we develop spiritually (Hebrews 5:12). We are created to grow up, dig deep, and spread wings! But that doesn't mean there won't be seasons of returning to the familiar and I pray that you won't miss what God has for you in the 'coming back'. I'm afraid I may have looked right past several 'little' opportunities here as I searched for the next 'big' step.

As for that contentment lesson I'm sure I'll be learning and re-learning for years to come, Paul actually lets us in on a game changing secret in Philippians 4:12-13, 'I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength.' 
God gave the manna a daily expiration date FOR A REASON. Knowing our tendency to think we can do it on our own, this is His reminder that we will never out grow our need for this daily 'coming back' to be filled and equipped by Him. The Holy Spirit is ready and waiting to fill us with a strength that is the key to this seemingly elusive ability to be content regardless of circumstances. May we surrender our need to gather all the manna and learn to live in the knowledge that He holds everything together perfectly.

The Hard Chapters...

Life happens in seasons and for that I am grateful. Literal seasons that bring crunchy leaves and air that feels crisp, but also seasons of life which come and go, days flowing together like chapters in a book. Some of my 'chapters' are a faster read than others, some I love to return to over and over, with pages worn thin. Then there are ones which don't unfold exactly as anticipated. This particular season is certainly not one I would have written into my story, had I been the author. A significant plot twist, in my opinion! So, while I am extremely thankful this is NOT my whole story and the chapter will end, I do believe this to be one with significant potential for affecting the rest of my story. And so we read on...

Since my last blog post I've been to the University of Colorado's Rheumatology department. Many of you were praying over that appointment. Thank you! The doctor was exactly what we hoped for; wise and kind, willing to take as much time as needed to listen to my story and speak in terms I could understand. He was very confident in diagnosing me with 'Reactive Arthritis', triggered by a food-borne illness I had at the beginning of May. This type of arthritis usually runs its course within six months, which renewed our hope for a full and timely recovery in the near future. In the days that followed my appointment I felt relief both mentally and physically. Hope is a very powerful force.
During this time Derek was 'deployed' as an Insurance Adjuster after hurricanes Harvey and Irma and has been working in Texas and then Florida ever since. This is something he became certified in during our time of transitioning back from Hawaii, but had yet to find an opportunity to utilize.
The boys and I spent three weeks on our own in Colorado; my first 'solo-parenting' experience. And Derek began learning a complex computer program, drove a truck and camper trailer half way across the country and jumped right into a brand new line of work on very little sleep. We have all been pushed way out of our comfort zones! But God is faithful to go before us every step of the way.

Mid-September the boys and I were able to join Derek in Florida. In the days leading up to our departure, I felt the pain flaring up in my feet and ankles. The night before our flight, I was having a hard time walking from one room to the next. I finished packing and collapsed in bed, tears running down my face, fully aware that I was in no shape to take on the airport with bags, car seats and two little men in tow. I know God's ways are drastically bigger and better than mine. So, I prayed for the strength to gracefully accept if it was truly not His will for us to travel the next day. And otherwise, for healing and relief in my body!
When morning came, I could walk with minimal pain. So we flew to Florida! The flight went smoothly and the boys were exceptional, but travel still took a definite toll. I didn't bounce back as quickly as I would have liked. Thankfully, I didn't have to hobble far to find sand for the boys to dig in and that's where we spend the majority of our days.

Upon arrival in Florida, there were several things we needed to rapidly adjust to; 'camper life', humidity, and working around Derek's new schedule. On the days when he is out inspecting, the boys and I need to come up with things to do around the campsite or within walking distance. On the days when our camper becomes his office for writing up claims previously inspected, the boys and I need to find ways to stay out and about. Derek's hours are long which means our hours are long. But we have each come a long way in a short period of time, learning as we go, embracing unknowns and finding a new 'normal' for this season. Also, the adventures we're having are excellent!

My eye had been bothering me for about a week before our trip and allergy medicine wasn't bringing relief. I was anticipating the goo of pink eye to arrive during our first week here. But when I was still goo free and the stinging, redness and sensitivity kept increasing, my Mom suggested I get checked for 'Iritis'. A visit to the ER and then an ophthalmologist confirmed that I do, indeed, have this inflammation of the middle layer of my eye, commonly related to arthritis.
The addition of yet another symptom was overwhelming. I drove 'home' from my appointment feeling a deep weariness. I expressed my frustrations in prayer and asked God how much longer this chapter was going to be. I am so tired of not feeling like myself; weary of living with daily pain and being overwhelmed by my normal roles and tasks.
The answer came mid-plea, 'Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.' This is how God 'talks' with me; a thought in my head that I can not take credit for because I was a mile away from that train of thought. I went in search of the rest of the words and found them in Matthew, 'Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.' Matthew 11:28-30

Rest for a weary soul, a burden that is light; all I was longing for wrapped up in this instruction to be literally yoked to the only One I can learn this way of living from. But there is a necessary surrender in the coming, in admitting that I am, indeed, weary. It goes against human nature to be weak, to lack in any way.
In a self-sufficient society, one does not just confess a desperate need for rescuing. And yet, our awareness of inadequacy seems to be exactly what is needed before a Strength greater than ours can begin working within. We are not offered a pass on all of life's hardships, but we are invited into a relationship with Jesus that will sustain and guide us through the inevitable difficulties.

Paul wrote of how God answered him when battling weakness of his own, 'But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.' 2 Corinthians 12:9-11
So if we are boasting about weaknesses, here's a few: I can't do any of this on my own! I continually fall short. I am tired and I hurt and when I tell the boys for the hundredth time 'This is an adventure!', it's really a pep-talk for myself. I get frustrated and I question the storyline and I eat more than my fair share of chocolate.

And in this place of obvious brokenness, God's grace is startlingly obvious. I think that's the whole point. Although, I wish it didn't take these massive unknowns and frustrating health struggles to remind me of the reality I should always be living from; a daily place of surrendering to Him. I'm painfully aware of my insufficiency on these days that feel scattered, with a body that aches. But how soon will I forget once we return to normal and my health improves? When I feel like I'm once again 'nailing it!' will I be as eager to dig into my Bible in search of hope? Will prayer be my first response when the day's hardships are no longer threatening to knock me over?
C.S. Lewis said, 'Relying on God has to begin all over again every day as if nothing had yet been done.' And I didn't especially like those words the first time I read them, but they are true. The first steps of each day are a painful reminder of my physical inadequacy, but what if I was as quick to realize this on a spiritual level? What if I was as consistent in my pursuit of Him and the rest He gives as I was with my search for relief in my joints?

This chapter of life may not be my favorite. But He is using it for good and teaching me lessons in dependency on a very daily basis. What if, out of my whole story, this is the chapter that best points people to Him?! What if my story could actually be about something bigger than me, and the chapters that are not a whole lot of fun to live through are, in fact, the ones that matter most? This song was playing on the radio today and, needless to say, pretty much emptied my tear ducts.

If I told you my story

You would hear Hope that wouldn't let go

And if I told you my story

You would hear Love that never gave up

And if I told you my story

You would hear Life, but it wasn't mine

If I should speak then let it be

Of the grace that is greater than all my sin

Of when justice was served and where mercy wins

Of the kindness of Jesus that draws me in

Oh to tell you my story is to tell of Him

-Big Daddy Weave 

My eye is improving. The redness and stinging is gone, hallelujah! The blurriness and sensitivity remain in my right eye, but neither is as extreme as at the start. This chapter continues, and I dig deeper into the rest that Jesus gives. May we live with greater awareness of our inadequacy, that the grace of God could flow freely into each page of our stories. May His strength enable us to face the challenges that are inevitable. And may our stories point to Him; each word, each page, each chapter.. even the hard ones, especially the hard ones.

Not the Summer I had planned...

It's been over four months since I last felt physically 'normal'. Not exactly the summer I had planned; I've been in and out of more doctor's offices than throughout the rest of my life combined. I've been 'diagnosed' five different ways, with the words being said each time in question mark form as I was referred to yet another specialist.

The current label on my unexplained joint pain and swelling is 'Inflammatory Arthritis of the Joints'; not an issue I was especially prepared to do battle with at 26 years old. And yet, with all these big unknowns and pain levels I have never before lived with on a daily basis, I fully trust that God is faithful and good. And while we have yet to find resolution or even certainty as to what I am dealing with, I know the lessons I am learning have great value and should be shared.

'Your strength is found

At the end of my road

Your grace, it reaches to the hurting

Still through the tears and the questioning why

I will stand my ground where hope can be found

I will stand my ground where hope can be found..'

Lauren Daigle: 'O Lord' 

This journey started in May with a tingling in my toes. The pins and needles sensation soon morphed into pain in my feet and then extreme swelling. I visited our local clinic and they sent me to a Podiatrist. At each visit the word 'anomaly' was used as nothing seemed to add up. We ended up in the ER, nervous about a blood clot in my leg. An ultrasound quickly put those fears to rest but we were back the next week when the pain and swelling moved up into my left collar bone and jaw. I was a 9 on the pain scale; shuffling my feet because it was too painful to pick them up as I walked, 'eating' food in smoothie form because my jaw had almost completely locked and chewing food was extremely difficult. The worst part was not being able to pick up my boys. Raising my arms higher than my chest, especially while carrying something, resulted in my left clavicle feeling as if sharp knives were being pushed into it.  

   Psalm 90:12 Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.

Lesson #1: Life is fleeting. We all know this, but we don't tend to LIVE like it until something tragic or shocking serves as a wake-up call. At the beginning of this journey, before we knew what it was NOT, Derek and I had to wrestle with several 'heavy' questions and come to terms with the fact that God is the only One who knows the number of our days. There is an incredible Peace that comes with true acceptance of the fact that I AM NOT IN CHARGE and can truly rest in knowing the One who is.

I've learned much about the medical field as I navigated the referral process and wait lists a literal mile long and finally had appointments with a Doctor of Internal Medicine, an Infectious Disease Specialist and a Rheumatologist. They've done almost every blood test in the book and, other than obviously elevated inflammation markers, there's no obvious answer for the continuing swelling and pain.
Both in the ER and at a return visit to the Podiatrist, attempts were made to draw fluid from my joints, without success. I have done time on anti-inflammatories, pain killers and antibiotics, all in attempts to treat my bizarre symptoms. I am currently off of all prescriptions, as we continue to search for the root issue. I have just completed a Whole30 diet, removing inflammatory foods (a.k.a all the comfort foods!) from my body for 30 days. Now I am very slowly re-introducing food groups one at a time, in hopes of discovering a diet related 'trigger'.
I've been blessed with doctors who truly joined our 'team' and fought for answers alongside us, connecting me to whomever was my next best option and making personal follow-up calls to see how I was progressing. I've also been confused and frustrated by other doctors who did not have time for my questions and simply wanted to hand me a stack of prescriptions on their way out the door. Prescriptions, I might add, for an immunosuppressant that would shut down my immune system, dramatically increasing my risk of things much scarier than joint pain, in my opinion. (I told them, 'Thank you, but no thank you..')
Lesson #2: Fight for yourself. Don't give up. Do your research. Put on your grown-up voice and say what you need to say. Regardless of whether the words 'chronic' and 'auto immune disease' are being thrown around, we all face countless opportunities to be brave and make the hard decisions and even the most introverted of us CAN do it.

'Suffering can be a friend who drives you where you didn't know you needed to go.' 

-Ann Voskamp

When peace like a river, attendeth my way,

When sorrows like sea billows roll

Whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say

It is well, it is well, with my soul

-Horatio Spafford 

Lesson #3: It's okay to let others fight for you, too. We live in a society that praises individualism and looks down on those who don't have it all together. But here's a little secret: none of us are actually perfect! And we all need friends that will jump into the mud beside us and say 'I've got your back.' Appreciate those people! And let them in.
It has been very difficult opening up to friends and family and admitting my need for help. But on days when you cannot pick up your kids... or walk... it becomes the only option. And the support and encouragement that's been poured out on my family and I in the past few months has brought me to tears on multiple occasions. Relationships deepen when you let people into your mess. It's painful.. especially for Type A's. But it's real and it is good and when we allow it, God works mightily through those people and carries us through the seasons we lack the strength for.

'Maybe success isn't in believing I can do anything but in knowing I can do nothing... It seems to me when I finally recognize my inability is when Christ shows up able within me.'

 Emily P Freeman

Discouragement has been one of my biggest attackers. I am actually extremely grateful to be walking this road with two toddlers in tow, because they make it impossible for me to say, 'No, I think I'll just spend the day in bed...' Letting this get the better of me is simply not an option because of the other people literally depending on me to feed them and play with them and wipe their buns. Some days are brutal; I cried a lot during the first two months. But I am thankful for their sweet presence in my days and for their tiny hands in mine as they help me get around in the mornings, Owen whispering, 'One step at a time, Mama, one step at a time..' It also brings me to tears on a regular basis to hear prayers for 'Mama to feel much better!' and be able to talk through the ways and timing of God's healing power.

'The name of the LORD is a strong fortress; the godly run to him and are safe.' Proverbs 18:10

Derek has patiently walked beside me as I navigate various stages of disbelief, frustration, straight-up excruciating pain, and a few pity parties sprinkled throughout. He is encouraging when I am down, he is intense when I want to give up, he is steadfast when I am full of questions. And he brings me flowers after I've had every possible vein poked and prodded for blood. Mid-journey my brave hearted husband said, 'I just don't want to see you lose your joy.' And I have carried his words with me, a powerful challenge to find the joy regardless of how I am feeling.
I will NOT let Satan use this to steal my joy. I will NOT let this... whatever it is.. be my excuse to not show up, give my best and be a light. May we each appreciate the ones in our life that will absolutely not allow us to give up our fight. 'In the face of pain and struggle, don't shut down; stay open. Refuse to miss the joy waiting for you today.' Rachel Macy Stafford

'And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.' Philippians 4:7

I honestly do not know how anyone walks through seasons of unknowns and pain without Jesus. He has been the Peace that literally STANDS GUARD over my heart and mind as the enemy (and my own fear!) make attacks in every way imaginable. I have prayed and been prayed for and continue to pray... for healing. And I absolutely believe that He has heard each and every one of our cries. So now I wait for His perfect timing, trusting that He will do more good and bring more glory to His name through my suffering in this season than through my health. I can't see the whole picture but He does and He journeys with me every step of the way.
Lesson #4: God's got this! 'Then Elisha prayed, "O LORD, open his eyes and let him see!" The LORD opened the young man's eyes, and when he looked up, he saw that the hillside around Elisha was filled horses and chariots of fire.' 2 Kings 6:17

It hasn't all been pain and doctor's visits and scary unknowns this summer, either; we have had countless adventures. Not the grand expeditions I had planned, but ones that were just as rich with goodness, beauty and fun. Owen played T-ball and Daniel turned into quite the comedian! We broke ground at our land and roasted marshmallows and Derek and I celebrated our 7th anniversary in Taos, New Mexico! We spent more time laying in the grass looking for cloud animals and less time rushing to and fro. We smelled all the flowers, threw more rocks in the creek and learned a deeper lesson about extending grace to one another.
Owen announces to people, 'My Mom's bones hurt..' giving me permission to walk as slowly as I need through the aisles of the grocery store. And I do see progress, some days more than others. The pain is definitely not as intense as it was; instead of the 'stabbing' pain I now feel more of a dull ache in all the joints that have been affected.
Regardless of if, when and how this 'anomaly' will run it's course, there are lessons to be learned amidst pain that I may never have been able to learn through health, so I treasure them. And I hug my people tighter. And I have deeper, truer compassion for those who are physically hurting or mentally overwhelmed. I have made connections with countless people I wouldn't have otherwise made; individuals battling arthritis or inundated by giant unknowns, patients next to me in line for more blood work and others attempting wacky, anti-inflammatory diets simply to feel as though they are fighting in their own 'small' way. I thank God for those connections!
Lesson #5: Everyone is fighting their own battle. May we extend grace whether we feel like it's 'deserved' or not. We don't know what's going on beneath the surface. And maybe we'll get it wrong on occasion, it's possible that people ARE just being dramatic or should, indeed, go get a job. But in a world full of skeptics and stereotyping, I see how mercy and a love that transcends differences can be life-changing.

When I cannot stand I'll fall on You

Jesus, You're my hope and stay

-Matt Maher

So, I didn't write this to garner sympathy. I also did not write this in hopes of receiving any more well-meant pieces of advice or ideas of which food groups I should eliminate next. I DID, however, write this post because dealing with suffering is not something I've had much experience with and I wanted to share the lessons I am in the midst of learning. I fully understand that in comparison to the heartbreak and pain that countless others are walking through, this may seem insignificant. But the battles we must fight come in many different shapes and sizes and I believe we can all learn from one another. This is how I process.. and I pray my words might encourage someone else out on their very own muddy battlefield. I would definitely appreciate your prayers as I head to the Rheumatology Department at Denver's University Hospital this week. (Also, this post will hopefully answer some questions about why I'm STILL limping around town!)

I know You're able and I know You can

Save through the fire with Your mighty hand

But even if You don't

My hope is You alone

I know the sorrow, and I know the hurt

Would all go away if You'd just say the word

But even if You don't

My hope is you alone.

You've been faithful, You've been good

All of my days

Jesus, I will cling to You

Come what may

'Cause I know You're able

I know You can

-MercyMe- 

Road Trip Tales..

Derek and I were both leaning as far forward as our seat belts would allow. Every muscle was tense and alert, despite the middle of the night hour and the hundreds of miles already tackled. En route to Texas for a family reunion, we ended up smack dab in the middle of an extreme, spring blizzard. Derek was driving, I was co-pilot, and the boys, clad in footie pajamas, were fast asleep in the backseat. The mountain pass had been difficult, but the plows were out in full force and arriving safely on the other side had boosted our confidence. It was when we were redirected through middle-of-nowhere-New Mexico, however, that conditions worsened significantly.

The whipping wind forced the snow to blow completely horizontal and vision was limited to that which was immediately in front of us. The drifts on the left side of the road were 3ft deep and slowing down only resulted in our car being sucked in; the only option was to plow straight through. My job was to look for the yellow line; centering our vehicle on it gave us confidence that we weren't too close to either ditch. When there was not massive piles of snow to punch through, there was black ice to contend with. The only other vehicles we saw were in the ditch. The snow lasted for 13 hours straight and turning around was impossible. Stopping would have ensured our vehicle becoming one with the white surroundings. Our only course of action was to keep driving forward.

And we made it! By the grace of God, and because of angels surrounding our vehicle; we made it through! Derek had to dig us out of a snow drift once, with his bare hands, and we successfully turned an 11 hour road trip into 21 hours. But the key word is: successfully! The next morning we pulled into Denny's for what may have been the most delicious stack of pancakes we've ever eaten and a little bit of stress laughing as the tension wore off. It was then we started hearing from people across the country who had been awake in the night and said they thought of us and prayed for our journey. God's faithfulness never ceases to amaze. And, yes, another story was born.
As Derek always says, while I'm rehashing an event, 'This sounds like a blog post...' And it's true. I love the journey, the adventures found in unexpected places and the way God is masterfully weaving together all the tiniest details of this life. That doesn't mean I don't balk at hardship, interruption and plans gone awry. I certainly did not enjoy our night of driving through the blizzard; in fact, I don't know if I've ever been quite so scared in my life. But it would be silly not to admit to the massive story potential wrapped up in even the most terrifying of blizzards! After all, what would I write about if our road trip to Texas had been uneventful and completely safe?!

I'm reading through Exodus now and in Chapter 13 I see how God instructs the Israelite people to act after leaving Egypt. There is a dedication of firstborns, a Festival to be celebrated yearly, bread without yeast and specific sacrifices. And the LORD says it is all for the sake of remembering. He does not want the people to forget. "..you must explain to your children, 'I am celebrating what the LORD did for me when I left Egypt.' "(Exodus 13:8) "And in the future, your children will ask you, 'What does all this mean?' Then you will tell them, 'With the power of his mighty hand, the LORD brought us out of Egypt, the place of our slavery.' "(Exodus 13:14) Stories passed down from generation to generation to ensure no one looses sight of what God has done. 'Then you will tell them'! If anyone had epic road-trip tales, it's the Israelites!

But two participants can tell very different stories about the exact same event. Are we skeptical or willing to give the benefit of the doubt. Is the cup half full or half empty? Are the hardships of life roadblocks and deterrents or training courses to strengthen and prepare us? How we describe a situation varies greatly on the filters through which we see life. And the way we tell our stories is the way our children (or whomever your audience may be) will remember it. Do I believe that God is faithful? If my answer is truly yes, that should affect how every single one of my stories is told. 
I am not suggesting we soften details or let hardships seem less than they really were. But Owen and Daniel can either remember 'that one time we drove through the night in a white-out blizzard' as a horribly miserable event that will deter us from ever venturing out in a snow storm again. OR our boys can remember a crazy, wild adventure where Dad and Mom had to be fully engaged and work together to bring us out on the other side with the help of a multitude of angels!

In the next chapter of Exodus, with Pharaoh in hot pursuit and the Red Sea blocking their path, the Israelites panicked and said to Moses, "Why did you bring us out here to die in the wilderness?" (Exodus 14:10) How quickly their opinion of the situation had changed. Or, at the very least, they were choosing to view the circumstance through a different lens. Can you imagine what their kids felt as they heard their parents talk this way? As I dig into their story, this is repeated countless times; losing sight of what God has already brought them through, they choose to look at hardships through overwhelmed and frustrated eyes and tell a story that fails to point to Jesus. (And I know they're not the only ones...) 

I don't think we need to sweeten up our stories and put a cherry on top before telling them and I definitely don't think we need to be fake. But I am convicted about the stories I tell. They can either draw people closer to the One who has set us free... or not. The simplicity of this is surprising. And the ramifications are staggering. At least that's what I see in these pages describing the journey of the Israelites. When they failed to point the next generation to the One who rescued them from bondage, everything fell apart. 

In Judges 2, Joshua, Moses' successor, 'sent the people away, each of the tribes left to take possession of the land allotted to them.' That means they had finally arrived in the long sought after Promised Land. But verse 10 says, 'After that generation died, another generation grew up who did not acknowledge the LORD or remember the mighty things he had done for Israel.' And as you read on, the depravity is astonishing; Baal worship and child sacrifice by the people whose parents walked through the Red Sea on dry ground and ate bread from heaven! Something definitely got lost in translation or, more likely, wasn't told at all. 

"Storytelling is the most powerful way to put idea into the world." -Robert McKee

As long as we are alive, we have stories to tell. And even if we refuse to tell them, our lives will do the talking. What matters to us will come through in our daily living. Our perception of circumstances will be observed by all those around us, and it will affect how they live their own lives. So, the question is: will we choose to tell our 'road trip tales' in a way that points back to Jesus? Will I embrace the inevitable roadblocks (and blizzards!) as part of my journey? Because they will happen regardless, the only aspect within my control is my translation of any given event. How will I describe this to my people? What story will I pass on? Which words will I allow to come out of my mouth, knowing that each sentence matters.. 

I pray my family will see me fighting for joy amidst circumstances that threaten to overwhelm. I hope that my 'road trip tales' will always be told through the knowledge of God's unending love and mercy, which changes everything. We will not hide these truths from our children; we will tell the next generation about the glorious deeds of the LORD, about his power and his mighty wonders... So each generation should set its hope anew on God, not forgetting his glorious miracles and obeying his commands.' (Psalm 78:4,7)

'If you don't fight for joy, it's your children who lose. You will be most remembered by what brought you most joy.' Ann Voskamp 

Real Life.

We have been sick for what feels like an eternity. I know, in the grand scheme of things, our ailments are minor and it's actually been a month and a half, not a lifetime. Since Christmas we've battled multiple rounds of a nasty virus and now a lingering stomach bug. (Of course, you know I've over analyzed it all and found a deeper meaning which you now get to hear about!) Sickness can bring out the worst in people.. literally. It can also accentuate the best because there is simply no pretense. Either way, it makes us vulnerable, real.
When you're battling a raging fever, rocking croupy babies through the night or cleaning up a child's tenth diarrhea explosion of the day, 'real' is all you can be, everything else has abandoned ship. And I have learned a lot through the past weeks, about myself and my boys and my partnership with Derek. It has been difficult in so many ways; it has also been an intense kind of beautiful. And Jesus has met us every step of the way, often times with an absolutely glorious sunset!

Each time he said, "My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness." So now I am glad to boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ can work through me. 

2 Corinthians 12:9

Last night I watched a video on Facebook. A mama explaining the journey she and her family have walked for the past two years. Her littlest man has Stage 4 Neuroblastoma. I cried as she spoke of the treatments, struggle and heart break they have faced as a family; of the unknowns awaiting them. (You can learn more about the Dukes family here.) And today I hugged my boys a little tighter. I rocked their sweet, sick bodies and thanked Jesus that they will bounce back from this bug when so many parents all over the world are rocking babies that may never recover.
I suppose loving anyone at all is a risk. While we may not have a diagnosis, we are all eventually going to run out of days. No matter what type of relationships we enter into, we choose to open ourselves up to heartbreak, misunderstanding and inconvenience. The more intimate the relationship: husband, wife, parent; the greater the risk.

Vulnerability: to be exposed. The dictionary calls it a 'susceptibility to being attacked...' I believe it is letting part of your heart live outside your body. It is being raw, being real and being willing to be broken for the sake of truly loving. Honestly, the only way to really live is tangled up with the ability to be vulnerable. And that scares me and probably most of you, if we're being real!

'Be brave and do not pray for the hard things to go away, but pray for a bravery that's bigger than the hard things.' -Ann Voskamp

I can't stop thinking about vulnerability now; and this kind of love that is hard and exhausting and the most beautiful journey we'll ever have the opportunity to partake in. I worry about all that my boys will face and I lie awake at night praying over their journeys, praying for their hearts. Derek and I are trying to stay focused on what truly matters in this life and carve out time to be 'just us' while wading through the waters of raising boys, establishing a business and finding our place in this world. And yes, sometimes real life feels like enough to crush a person.
But while we may be tempted to long for simpler decisions or better health (or that HGTV dream home they're giving away in Georgia, anyone?!) we know, deep down, it would take away from the journey. Without hardship how will we grow strong? Without opening ourselves up to pain, how will we know true love? And yes, I'll admit it.. without the past few weeks of sickness I would not have this newly found appreciation for health!

This 'hard', the vulnerability; being the only possible source of comfort for a sick babe, rocking them through the night in the recliner, cancelling everything on your schedule week after week; this is real, beautiful, painful life. Watching my husband take on jobs he doesn't normally do, feeling myself embrace 'ninja mom' status as I catch throw up in two separate bowls, is all opening my eyes to a level of sacrifice only made possible by love. And then it clicks. Isn't this what Jesus showed during His time on Earth? He loved those who couldn't love back. He gave of himself even when especially when it was not convenient. He took my place on the cross knowing that I may or may not choose to accept what He had done. Jesus is the ultimate example of sacrificial love and vulnerability.

"If I then, the Lord and the Teacher, washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another's feet. For I gave you an example that you also should do as I did to you." John 13:14-15

My Dad called at the worst (best?) time. We hadn't left the house in days, the wind was howling and I had already changed my shirt four times that morning. His words echoed exactly what I was beginning to understand, 'This is what Jesus did for us, Bethel... and He tells us to pick up our cross now. They call this.. the cruciform life, that your whole life becomes the shape of a cross, when people see sacrificial living in you.' He encouraged me to 'Fight the good fight, run the race, there IS a finish line and a crown waiting..' And of course, he made me cry.

Hard is not synonymous with 'bad', nor does good always mean 'easy'. This idea is difficult to grasp in a culture which balks at a notion that true love is sacrifice and real life is filter-free and full of vulnerability. But Jesus makes it very clear that His followers are not called to a life of ease, 'If any of you wants to be my follower, you must turn from your selfish ways, take up your cross, and follow me.' Matthew 16:24 And so my prayer is that I might stop backing away from opportunities to be vulnerable, stop balking at the 'hardships' God has allowed in my life to make me stronger. And that I will embrace, as Ann Voskamp talks about, 'a willingness to be inconvenienced.. the ultimate proof of love.' 

Confessions of a Bag Lady

Apparently, I was a bit of a hoarder while growing up. If anyone was missing an item, the first place they checked was under my bed, in one of my many bags. I don't remember this; I must have been fairly young. But the endearment 'Bag Lady' followed me a little longer than I would have liked.
I will admit to still feeling strong opposition to the haphazard scattering of possessions, clothes, etc. And if I can't deal with a mess right in the moment I have to, at the very least, form piles to be cleaned up later. I also have a really hard time throwing away love notes, mementos and old T-shirts and I do see how this might lead you to deduce that I am, indeed, still a Bag Lady.

The thing is, now I see my eldest son gathering up his favorite items in bags and wanting to take them all with us when we drive somewhere. It's endearing. It's also frustrating, as we already have a million and one distractions hindering our departure. He's kind of a pack rat and I'm wondering if I'm partially to blame. This glimpse of my very own reflection led me to question Owen's (my) need to know where everything is, keeping special items near by and tucked in tight.
As always with these big lessons God teaches through my little men, embarking on a quest to discover the root of this 'bag lady' syndrome took me deeper than I originally anticipated. There is nothing wrong with Owen's desire to bring favorite toys along for the ride (or sleep with 17 teddy bears..?) But it has led to my wrestling with this deep need within each of us to hold tight to what we deem 'ours'. This is both a mental battle and, for some, a literal stuffing of bags to ensure our favorite possessions are within arms reach.

Every day this week I've heard the same song on the radio; Natalie Grant singing 'King of the World', and her lyrics are beginning to break through..

'When did I forget that you've always been the king of the world? 

I try to take life back right out of the hands of the king of the world

How could I make you so small

When you're the one who holds it all

When did I forget that you've always been the king of the world' 

Now, I'm not saying that I need to let go of my desire for neatness or that Owen needs to give away all his toys. But this rather comical trip down memory lane did help me understand that at the heart of my need to hold on, is a fear of unknowns. I mean, I really like a plan (especially now that I am responsible for small human beings who turn into miniature dictators after missing a meal or a nap). And walking with God almost always requires us to journey forward with a whole lot of trust and remarkably little explanation. When I want A-Z mapped out, He simply gives me the very next step. When I begin to pull everything in close and label time, possessions, relationships, money, etc. as 'mine'... He says, 'Daughter, let go!' (And now the tiny bag-lady version of me just might need a very real paper bag to breathe into!)

Letting go is hard! I want to be the one to balance it all even though I know that I know I can not. I just read a post by Ann Voskamp and she said, 'The most revolutionary thing a woman can do is not let anything but the cross explain her life.' What do we find when we rid our lives of unnecessary trappings? What is at our core. What defines us? Is it status, job title, accomplishments, new 'toys'? Or is it the unfathomable grace of Jesus Christ; Him, His righteousness and nothing else?
My mother-in-law always likes to ask me the hard questions. Last week she asked me what God was teaching me and I didn't have a quick answer. Now that I've thought about it (I'm also notorious for needing time to analyze and process..) I think I know. As I enter into a brand new year, open up the first page of my beautiful, brand new planner, God is reminding me Who is in charge. He is asking the Bag Lady to let go so He can fill me with what truly matters. This means opening myself up to a heck of a lot of unknowns. But as I surrender, He can mold me. And the best version of ME is the one He had in mind from the very beginning as He breathed life into my being.

Yet you, LORD, are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter; 

we are all the work of your hand.  Isaiah 64:8