...And Yet

I confess, I'm a recovering perfectionist. And I'm failing at it. Darn. I think that I'll just climb back in bed and pull the covers up over my head. I joke, of course, but in reality, my perfectionism is something that wreaks havoc on my soul-bound journey to joy in all circumstances. Pride is at its core---as if I am capable of leading a perfect life or responding to it perfectly. If I were perfect, would I ever have a need for a Savior in Jesus Christ? No way, no how. However, it is still hard to accept when I am confronted with an area where I am failing. But also, I have along the way, picked up that if I behave perfectly, then love will follow. Acceptance will be automatic. So I am slow to learn and accept God's unconditional love for me--yet it is. Why do I so often trade man's cheap praise for the deep love of a giant God who is so magnificent yet He still sees little me as one of His crowning acheivements in creation? Yet I do. And because I do, I often pretend to feel or be something that I'm not...like happy and fully content and deeply joyful. It is my heart to be these things---but I would be lying if I said that I have arrived. I don't even think I'm close.

The other day, my husband lovingly brought something to my attention that he felt might encourage me in this quest for joy-filled living. However, I couldn't hear it because my "Perfection Alarm" was ringing in my ears too loudly to hear this tender heart of my man's. Instead I heard, "you're failing and I can't love you when you are like this"---so I left in tears and drove away from our home to try to outrun the sorrow and panic. I ended up in a parking lot sobbing and crying out to God to help me understand. The question I have (and I'm thinking many people might wonder the same thing) is how does acceptance of circumstances and choosing joy mesh with real, raw emotions? How can one live a joyous life when there is grief? What do you do when the loneliness threatens to overwhelm you? How does one live with deep joy and still be true to what boils underneath the surface of daily life? What does one do with the ache or anger? So as I sobbed, I told God that while I appreciate all the heroes of the faith found in His word,  I wished that there was one person in the bible that truly felt sad and lived out this life in a way that I could strive to emulate. A guideline of sorts. And there, in the midst of my sniffling in the car in the parking lot of Kohls, God spoke so tenderly to my heart that it threatened to make the tears that had recently dried spill over again---"DAVID....AND YET". David, King of Isreal, a man after God's own heart, felt sorrow. He felt loneliness. He felt fearful. AND YET, David trusted in God's unfailing love. He told God of his sorrow AND YET, David praised Him still and held fast to His promises. God was his lifeline.

Psalm 56:8-9 "You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in your bottle. Are they not in your book?...This I know, that God is for me."

Psalm 6:6 and 9 "I am weary with my moaning; every night I flood my bed with tears; I drench my couch with my weeping. The Lord has heard my plea; the Lord accepts my prayer."

Psalm 42:11 "Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise Him, my salvation and my God."

I write this today as an encouragement---more for myself but also for anyone who would read this and relate. Too many Christians out there put on a facade that masks their pain, their sins and their struggles. Too many of us are afraid to show that they are failures and that they can't live this Christian life perfectly...but none of us can. We, who have the hope of Christ in us, should boldly proclaim to the world, I SUCK! AND YET---CHRIST LOVES ME!  I'M SAD AND FEEL HOPELESS AT TIMES AND YET---GOD IS FOR ME! I AM UNFORGIVING AND YET---GOD IS GRACIOUS! I FAIL ALL THE TIME AND YET--GOD NEVER FAILS!

So there you have it---my confession. I am struggling to find joy in my circumstances here amidst the lonely ache. God designed me to feel these things---for what purpose? To torture me? No---to remind me of my need for Him. So I will feel this sadness AND YET, I will praise Him through it and hope in Him to restore my joy to fullness. I don't have to pretend with Him...I can be real and raw and trust Him to love me just as I am--in fact, those emotions should propel me to His throne so that I can climb up on His lap and let Him comfort me as my Father.

I am (thankfully!) not unaware of how many reasons I have to be thankful. I have sweet friendships that are sustained over distances, I have precious and warm company in my family here in Ohio, I have food, shelter and my health...I can see clearly the blessings around me and I am grateful for that fact. Gratefulness keeps my heart bouyed and that is a gift from a gracious God who bottles my tears and seeks to be my lifeline in the sadness.
Psalm 126:5-6 "Those who sow in tears shall reap with shouts of joy! He who goes out with weeping, bearing the seed for sowing, shall come home with shouts of joy, bringing his sheaves with him."

Fireflies

I love my Ohio backyard. It is filled with at least a half dozen giant trees that have roots sunk down deep into aged soil. The trees offer shade in the heat of this humid summer but more than that, they give the backyard a feeling that is reminiscent of my childhood home. Tonight I slipped out onto my back porch to sit a while and be alone in the quiet of dusk. I sat and looked over this giant backyard and before too long, the fireflies came out to do their nighttime dance. I have often marveled at the firefly. Watching their lights flicker like so many tiny stars close enough to touch turns me into a child. I stop short of getting my jar out to catch them preferring to leave them free to flicker and delight. But tonight I found myself in absolute wonder at this creature. I couldn't help but wonder at the fact that these flying lanterns are bugs. I don't like a lot of bugs. As much as I like the outdoors, bugs are not my favorite thing and you can catch me jumping and screaming if one happens to land on me. The firefly is a bug. It is fairly ordinary looking in the light of day and yet, at night it is absolutely transformed into a magnificent luminary.

I try to think hard about the Lord I love---and so as I watched these delightful bugs flicker and dance through the backyard tonight, I began to wonder about how God must delight in these bugs as well. I wondered if He called them out by their names like He does with the stars each night. I wondered if while He created the sunset tonight in all of its originality if He motioned the fireflies to stand in the wings and be ready to light up the night before asking the stars and moon to take center stage. I wondered about how He must be a little like me (or rather I like Him) that gets almost giddy to see them shine through the darkness. I began to wonder if these flashes of fluorescent light were glimpses of God's awesome glory---To see God's glory in fullness would so overwhelm us in our human bodies that He pinched off just the tiniest bit and placed it in the tail of a bug so that we could see it with our eyes and while doing so, see Him too.

I lingered long on the porch tonight. As I sat with my thoughts, I got to thinking about how we as Christ-Followers should be like the lightening bug. We should be sparks of light in the darkness of this world. We should delight others with our lights and point to God when they notice. It made me smile here in Ohio---where I feel a bit lost and very alone and where I have been shuffling through a depression that threatens to overcome my sparkle. Watching these ordinary bugs transforming the night gave me some hope of purpose. Oh that my light will shine here in the murky light and cause just one person to think hard on the God who creates, the God who loves and the God who transforms the ordinary into extraordinary.

A Humble Update

What a whirlwind 2011 has turned out to be! It has been a journey both physically and emotionally for me. One that has triggered many profound thoughts in the recesses of my brain that are brewing and steeping down deep enough for me to write about someday. But this is not the time. Instead, I'm keeping it a little lighter to give a little update.

We left Oklahoma mid-May and drove our home on wheels to Ohio where we parked at the Family Camp on base for two weeks while waiting for a rental home to come available. While we were waiting, I was blessed by meeting a young family living in the smallest little pop up camper with all their belongings in a pick-up truck, a mini-van and a small trailer. They had just come from Alaska and had been in their little home for a month already with two very small, very active children. They came over one evening to look at our RV---rejoicing in the fact that they finally spotted a couple under the age of 65 that owned one. Up until that point, they thought they were foolish to have the idea of purchasing one for themselves. I hope that they left encouraged in some small way. I doubt very much that they will ever know the impact they had on me in that small exchange. Their awe at our vehicle and appreciation for the space to live, gave me better eyes to see how blessed I had been the past two months. It humbled me. It humbles me still to think on it.
A week and a half after arriving in Ohio, our rental home opened up. We are now living in a 1500 square foot house in Kettering with a giant backyard full of beautiful, mature trees and beds of flowers that the owner put her heart into cultivating. (I will do my best not to kill them all! A green-thumb I am not!) On a side note, this house also came with a remarkable feature! We have flatulating carpets. Really. There are air bubbles that are trapped underneath the carpet and when walked on, they make a noise that tickles the funny bone. It is hard to be angry for long or feel sad for long when you walk down the hall and with every step it sounds like too many cans of beans have been eaten. (I'm sure you are shocked that such a dignified woman would find humor in it! Or that I would use it as my new excuse--"It wasn't me, it was the carpet") You can not tell me that our God doesn't have a sense of humor! The house He provided for us comes equipped with an immediate tension breaker. That's just priceless.
At any rate, the movers came with their giant trailers filled to the brim with all our worldly possessions--and these same beefy, moving men tried hard not to laugh as they unloaded a 2300 square foot house into a 1500 square foot house. And I tried hard not to cry in my panic of where it all was going to go. No attic, no basement and a one car garage (might be a half car garage even) and boxes upon boxes of stuff. Let me pause here and tell you that I am a purger---I throw things out, give away and get rid of all I can. I purged while packing up the house, I purged from the RV and I have purged while unpacking...yet I still have TOO MUCH STUFF! I could excuse myself and say that it's because I homeschool and I have to have art supplies and a library filled with good reads for my kids. I could excuse myself and say that it is my duty as a homemaker to make the home beautiful for my family and so I have to have a giant boxes filled with silk greenery and pictures for the walls---but really? The thought of all I have accumulated makes me throw up a little. It causes me to think of verses in the Good Book of treasures found in fields and storing things up in heaven and where my heart is. It humbles me. But if I'm honest, not enough to cause me to give it all away. Once again, I'm reminded of how much the Lord has to do within my heart to transform me and teach me the greater joy.
One week after the boxes arrived, I had sorted through them, stored a lot of them and given away a little. The pictures were on the walls and home was established. I then packed up some suitcases and jumped into the car to travel to Minnesota for two weeks in order to be in my youngest sister's wedding and spend time with family. What a wild time we had. So much fun. Maybe a little too much fun.
After two weeks, I finally had to turn and face reality that I was heading back to Ohio. Having worked frantically to get the house ready before leaving for Minnesota, then being in Minnesota for that time, I hadn't had much time to stop and think about the fact that my life now was truly relocated to Ohio.
Heart-work is hard work. I am striving to embrace this life that God's good hand has given me. It isn't easy---I trip on discontent and fall flat on my face. But I know that God isn't finished with me yet and that it is Him who does this Heart-work in me. I'm praying that I will have a teachable heart and that He will give me eyes to see the blessings around me and the way I can serve other people while I'm here. It humbles me to know that despite all my groanings and complainings He loves me fiercely with a love that never disappoints and always comforts. That truth alone is enough to cause my heart to swell with joy.

Other

A funny thing happened to me the other day. Something I never dreamed would happen or even be required of me in my life...I had to check "The 'Other' Box" on a form. So what, right? I'm sure all of us have at many different points of our life checked "The 'Other' Box".  How did you hear about us? A friend? An Ad? Word of mouth? Other? Are you following me here? No big deal---but when I came upon my "Other", I just stopped and stared and asked myself if this was a practical joke of some kind. You see, I was asked, "Where do you live?" An Apartment? Condo? House? Assisted Living Facility? Other? So I giggled, suppressed the urge to scream, swallowed and checked "Other". Thank goodness they didn't ask me to explain.

On another note, life in our Other is becoming easier. We know our boundaries so we have stopped bumping into each other. We know that a closed curtain means that someone is about to lose it and needs a little "alone time". We know that when my jaw sets a certain way that everyone must scatter to pick up their things and the vacuum comes out. But also, we've learned to enjoy the State Park that is our neighborhood. Mitchell is often found at the lake perfecting his rock-skipping technique. Maddy has found that Arcadia offers landscapes that inspire the writer in her. The other day, I was sitting outside on a beautiful day and noticed how the sun was shining stunningly through the bright green oak leaves. I dashed inside and got my camera and spent the next 30 minutes snapping pictures in perfect light. And Jordan? Well, Jordan never really had to adjust to life in the RV. He is my mountain man. The man who builds fires. The man who grows a beard when the Air Force doesn't interfere. The man who fixes things. The man who doesn't squirm when facing the sewage hose. The man who cooks outdoors. He's in heaven. And now that his family has relaxed a little bit, he's in Nirvana. Who would have thought that Nirvana could be found in "The 'Other' Box"?

WWF

My friend laughed at me the other night at my self-acclaimed-profound statement that I have to “fight for Joy”. She laughed---almost guffawed at that idea. Normally, I delight, revel and thoroughly enjoy making my friends laugh. (I have been known to be a little less than dignified for the sake of hearing the golden sound of laughter) But her laughter prompted me to think hard on whether or not I was foolish in proclaiming my wrestle for lasting joy. So, in true woman fashion, I have been thinking, pondering and questioning my profundity. I have wrangled with the fact that she laughed at what was said in utter seriousness. Perhaps to her mind, if you have to struggle to find joy, it’s not joy at all. But the joy I am speaking of is not the Pollyanna kind of joy. It is not the shallow “joy” that looks at a difficult situation and plasters a fake smile on it and proceeds to ignore it. That isn’t even joy—it’s denial. I’m also not talking about happiness. Happiness is valuable but it often doesn’t last. It ebbs and flows with life’s ups and downs. When I speak of joy, I am speaking of a deep down, in the marrow contentment and confidence in the goodness of God. The kind of joy I am speaking of is the kind that looks pain in the face and sees it’s ugliness for what it is and yet chooses to turn to God to transform it. God---the giver of both goodness and calamity, sorrow and joy. God—who turns ashes to beauty and our mourning into dancing. This joy-wrestle looks into the face of bitter disappointment, deals with it, takes it on and struggles to turn it to God and say, “Yes, I’m disappointed, I’m sad, I’m angry but I’m choosing to believe your Word when it says that You will work this for my good.” (Romans 8:28) It is a fight. A hard fight. At times I feel as if I’m in the World Wrestling Federation and it’s me against a Tag Team of Defeaters. Just as I pin Self-Pity to the ground, his team mate Anger rises up and they’ve got me against the ropes. Let’s be honest here---there are times when I really would like to wrap myself up in self-pity. To put it on like a cloak and wallow in it, wear it and soak it in…because if I can feel sorry enough for myself, it justifies my anger at my circumstances and excuses my actions. So I have to fight---hard. To throw off that cloak of self and put on Christ who redeems me. Christ, who fought this bloody battle for me long ago on the cross and it is one who embraces Joy that chooses to believe that He did that for me and claim the victory that He won. (the Joy of my Salvation!)

It sounds easy but it’s not. It should be---and so maybe the wrestle isn’t so much for joy but against Unbelief. Do I believe that I am “more than a conqueror through Christ who loved us?” (Romans 8:37) Do I believe that “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me” (Philippians 4:13) including painfully dying to self in order to be more pleasing to God? After all, Paul states that believing this is the key to being content in all circumstances and contentment is directly related to joy. See? Even the thinking through of these things require mental wrestling…So perhaps my blog shouldn’t be “Choosing Joy” but “Choosing Belief” and my prayers shouldn’t be for joy in all circumstances but rather “help my unbelief” and give me faith at least as big as that pathetic mustard seed.

My friend was maybe right to laugh at my statement---Joy is mine already through Christ and the Cross but I must fight to believe in the victory that is mine against whatever foe I face in that wrestling ring. (Cue Carmen’s “The Champion” here for nice effect)

Top Ten Things One Can Learn in an RV

10. Bugs brains really do squish onto the windshield. Usually their bodies are left fairly intact. I’m thinking that we’ll have to do our next Homeschool Science Project on labeling the bugs we are collecting on our giant windshield as we drive northeast.

9. Parking by a highway can produce a kind of white noise that is similar to the ocean. Oh, a train whistle too…hmm…an ocean liner perhaps?

8. I still have an imagination at age 35…I’m pretending that I’m at a resort by the ocean and not parked in an RV Park in the middle of someone’s farm right off the highway…yes. That IS the ocean I hear…not the semi-trucks and the train flying by. Ahh…paradise.

7. I can laugh. I must laugh to get through this ordeal that is my life. The hilarity is vast from pushing my grocery cart laden with groceries to my “house” parked on the outskirts of the lot, to eating Subway in the Wal-Mart parking lot with my family, to the fact that I’m sitting in the middle of a field right now by the highway actually feeling the vibration of that train still rolling by…and don’t even get me started on how hysterical it is to actually pee while driving down the road. I never cease to be amused at that fact.

6. The RV can be smaller than 350 Square Feet. In fact, quite a bit when your brand new hydraulic pump quits and the slides don’t move out unless you bang on the hydraulic pump with a rubber mallet and move it out inch by inch. (This is also giggle inducing) 1 hour later, after banging away at the motor, that extra 2 feet feels gigantic. I’m going to start doing carpet angels while it’s out.

5. I am thankful for people who work on the weekends. Unlike those who work for our RV company in the Technical Help Department. I mean, one can’t drive until jacks are up and the slides are back in and one can’t put them up and in without a working hydraulic pump, but what the heck? Service people need a break too. Coffee anyone?

4. We will need to purchase the extended warranty. Guess I’ll need to get a job. Maybe I can offer my services as an RV Housekeeper. I’ll get paid by the minute since it takes only about half an hour to clean one of these. Or maybe I can get a job in the Technical Help Department for Monaco. I hear they keep great hours.

3. Humming keeps big RV’s on the road in high winds. At least that is what I keep telling myself while my husband drives dangerously close to the side of the road and as I keep myself from screaming by humming as loudly as I can. It works. Like Magic.

2. Wi-Fi doesn’t mean High Speed. I’m sure you all knew that. But I didn’t. Until tonight when it took me two and a half hours to check my email and I still couldn’t reply to anyone. So if you are one of my friends who is waiting for a reply, be patient. I’m not mad at you or ignoring you or distancing myself emotionally. I just can’t make this internet connection any faster.  Maybe it’s because I’m at an ocean resort in the middle of Paradise.

1. And the number one thing I can learn while living in this RV is gratefulness. I am grateful for this weird experience to teach me gratefulness. As I stare out the window (between bug guts) at the world going by, I’m noticing things like how I’m seemingly chasing Spring across the country. I get to experience it twice—once in an Oklahoma State Park and now as I travel. The purple on the Crepe Myrtles is bright here in the Northern part of the country—the trees just beginning to bud and it is spectacular to see it in its beauty for the second time this year. What a gift! And tonight I was thrilled to inhale deeply the smell of this field (ocean) after receiving a good soaking today. It smells like Minnesota grass and childhood. I wanted to take my shoes off and sink my toes in. To be grateful, one has to slow down enough to notice what is around them. And that is exactly what this RV has done for me. Helped me to slow down, breathe in and live the moment.

350 Square Feet and a Whole Lot of Room for Growth

A husband and wife, two kids and a dog crammed into roughly 350 square feet. I have to admit, it’s been rough to adjust and just when I think I’ve accepted my circumstances, I trip on the dog or bang my knee on the corner of our bed while making it and I lose it once again. I haven’t been able to find much joy in my present circumstances but not because there isn’t anything in which to find joy. The truth of the matter is that there is always joy to be had if I’m living in the knowledge that all things are for my good and have eyes to see how bountifully I am blessed. Yet I’m failing miserably. Often. So these small spaces are squeezing me internally---squishing out sin that I didn’t even realize was within me. Ugh. I confess, it’s ugly in this here tin can of a home.

The thing is, I’m not necessarily unhappy about our RV and the fact that I’m living in it. It’s beautiful, warm when it has needed to be, cool when the sun beats down. There’s a decent bathroom with a shower---and now that I have figured out how far I can spread my arms, I no longer hit my funny bone while washing my hair. I have my kids close and at night, when all is still, I can hear their breathing. It reminds me of the nights I used to tiptoe in and listen at the side of their cribs for the sound of their life-giving breath…and that is charming, sentimental and wonderfully good. So what is my problem? Why have I so often sulked in silence and stared out the windows into sunshine feeling sorry for myself? What culprit has stolen the joy rug out from under me? Self pity overwhelms me at times and I am angry at myself for allowing it and seemingly helpless to stop it.

I think part of it is the fact that I feel displaced. Military moves (or any moves for that matter) are charged emotionally in ways sometimes unexpected. The move alone would be difficult enough, but we are in limbo here as we wait out the next 6 weeks to actually move on. Our anchor has been pulled, however, since we have sold our house and yet we are tethered here by military red tape and paperwork. So we are both here and not here at the same time. It is so difficult to even write about this strange existence and effectively communicate the emotional disarray I am experiencing. I am trying to live in the moment and enjoy with fullness the time I have left with dear friends but it is hard not to look 6 weeks out when the goodbyes really will take place. I’m grateful for the time with them but yet anxious to get it over with—rip the bandaid off and get on with the adjustment in Ohio. In essence, I’m feeling a bit schizophrenic! A perfect example would be this morning as I am bracing my feet against the side of the “tub” putting on makeup while the RV is moving out to another lot---I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of getting ready in my bathroom while it is driving down the road and yet cry at how unstable my life is right now! Calgon can’t take me far enough away at times.

And I am responding the same way with my family. One moment I am happily embracing the elements of the RV lifestyle and the next, I’m freaking out at my husband for having his things on every single available space. I am at peace, I am not. I have a home, but I don’t. I am Christ-like and I am Satan in human form.

But there is hope. Christ is not finished with me yet. He is using even this experience to show me my wretched sin. He is showing me that stability doesn’t come in a house’s foundation but in Him as a foundation for all things. He is showing me my selfishness and allowing me to deny self and serve Him in all things. He is showing me how I idolized comfort and giving me opportunities to get cramped, dirty and have to work a little harder for things. Who knows what He is prepping me to do? Mission field? Hold a baby that is filthy with lice-ridden hair and tend to her with love? Reach out to unknown people and love them without fear? Perhaps this will serve as a stepping stone from rich, worldly living with solid doors and locks to living in a hut in Africa with God alone as my safeguard. So, while I am terribly annoyed at myself and circumstances, I am also very grateful. (another sign of schizophrenia!) I am so immensely glad that the Lord loves me enough to show me where I am not pleasing Him and that He has brought me to a point where my self-dependence fails and I have only Him to do a life-changing work in me. And He will. With patience and unfailing love that I do not deserve in the slightest. So even in these tight quarters, there is a ton of room to grow.