And it all falls down

Every military wife knows the rules of deployment. As soon as he is gone, what can go wrong- will. The day after he leaves, the car breaks down and the tires are all suddenly bald. When you get home, the washing machine has flooded your entire down stairs, while the toilet is overflowing upstairs because the 2 year old flushed a My Little Pony. Again. Then the weather shifts, as it does daily in Southern Georgia, and while it was 40 degrees yesterday, it is suddenly a sunny 78 degrees. This requires you to switch from heat to AC, only to discover your HVAC took a dump. It's these kind of fluke incidents that all gather together and hang out until your husband leaves, then they all decide to show up in your life unannounced and unwanted. Well, this seems to apply to field trainings as well. Lucky me.

My incredible and gorgeous man, who I realize now just how much I take for granted, left a couple weeks ago for field training. He is literally right down the road, but can not come home. We can not see him. He is living, eating, not showering, and acting as if he was deployed. After all, it's training right? Poor guy is sleeping out in the freezing cold temperatures, walking around with monkey butt because there are no showers in the middle of a random field on Ft Stewart, eating what can only be described as astronaut food from a bag, and I don't even want to know what kind of sparkling clean port-a-potty he gets to share with a few hundred other guys. And yet, sometimes I wish I could trade places with him.

Pitiful, right? What on earth could be so bad that I would want to sit my bare naked bum (let's be honest, I would squat. There is no way I will ever sit on a port-a-potty seat.) on a seat that hundreds of filthy men use every day?! Well, where should I begin?

Mike left on a Monday. The night before he left, my best friend dropped off her two little girls for the week. She had a business trip in Texas and she knew she would get her girls back in one piece if she left them with me, so here they stayed. That Monday everything went smoothly. I got all the kids off to school on time and got back home and made breakfast for my two tiny two year olds. Unless you have twins, you probably haven't experienced this before- not by yourself for an extended period of time. It was such a roller coaster. Hilarious one minute, frustrating the next, exhausting, blissful, hilarious again, then mostly exhausting by the end of the day.

Well Monday is the day I found Jack digging in my trash. Jack is a stray dog who was clearly abused and neglected by whatever jerk who was responsible for him. But he finally took to me and the last 2 weeks I have grown to love him.



So, let's recap here. 7 girls for a week. Ages 12,10,8,5,4,2, and 2. 3 dogs that have their own quirks and high maintenance issues, plus a stray dog that brings a whole new set of high maintenance issues. A house that doesn't seem so big with all of us in it, until it's cleaning time. Then it may as well be the freaking Taj Mahal. All of this with no partner to share the load. Alone. Just me. Solo. Yuck.

My girls are all jacked. Hazel started being terrible the day after Mike left. She is not listening, talking back, being grumpy and fussy. She cries for her daddy here and there every single day. She spends a lot of time calling him and Face Timing with him, but it's not enough. Sophia has been whiny and snotty since he left too. She cried a lot when he left and didn't understand why he wasn't coming right home. Lila has been crying every single day before school saying she doesn't want to go (there is no bullying, I have had extensive talks and even talked with her teacher, and everyone - even Lila- says no bullying). Grace is clingier than normal which is saying something. She is basically halfway back in my womb. Luci is even showing some changes. Wanting to sleep in my room (she never wants to) and just be with me as much as she can.

The extra kids were no problem. They actually were great. They played well with my girls and kept them busy. The two year olds were getting more and more sick of each other as the week went on and by the last couple of days, I had officially become a referee. Hurricane Hazel was in full out "mine" mode. The batteries were hers. The bathroom drawers were hers. The lint in the dryer was hers. Everything was hers and if little Baby Grace even looked at it, HH wanted to end her. And Baby Grace don't take no crap, let me tell you. I could've sold tickets to that fight... instead I distracted them with fruit snacks. A lot of fruit snacks.



The extra dog really isn't a huge problem except that he digs out of the yard. That is annoying because while I think it would be awesome for him to run around the huge yard and play unattended... I actually have to watch him like a hawk. He busted the bottom of the gate on my fence and I wanted to bust him. I decided, fine. You don't like it here.. then go. Until I stormed into the house and saw his sweet little jerk face in the front window staring at me and wondering when I was going to let him in. Geez. Little loyal adorable jerk. I forgave him. But my fence is still busted and it's added to the Honey Do list that is ever growing.

My husband and I completed out foster care training classes before he left. Woohoo! We had our graduation (basically just an hour of a bunch of people telling us things that we really already learned in the classes, then being handed our certificate of completion, and eating food and cake that us students had to provide for everyone) last Tuesday and we were able to bring our kids. I brought 7. And no husband. Once the excruciating hour was up and we were onto the eating portion, I decided we needed to cut and run early. Four of my kids were running around, while two more chased them. One was screaming and crying because her tummy hurt. It was time to go. Now. Only.. where were my keys? Oh no. Locked in the car. That's where. Or at least I hope, because I can't find them after searching every corner in that place and every purse and bag and trash can. After calling and waiting for a few different people, I finally called a locksmith who said he would come but I had to pay cash only. Crap. Luckily my child had a $100 bill on her from Christmas money. Normally I would be cranky that she was carrying that kind of money around, and I started to mention it, then I realized how her irresponsibility saved all our bums, and I shut my mouth. The keys were thankfully in the car, and after waiting an hour and a half after the class we were free and on the road.   

The security system in my home is down and brought my entire phone system down with it, so after many phone calls, tech visits, and arguments, I finally got the phone fixed and an appointment tomorrow for the security company to come out and fix things between 12am and 11pm.

Then yesterday Grace hounds me to make her a doctor appointment. Why? You think you feel a scratch in your throat and are convinced you somehow must have ebola?! No. Close. She stubbed her toe at church 2 weeks ago. Oh Lord. Walk it off kid. Or at least, that is what I have been telling her for the last 2 weeks. Fine. I bring her into the doctor and sure enough. Broken toe. Go figure. So after 2 days of missing school, we now have a giant boot that is the size of half her leg and a very satisfied Grace. She's thrilled, thankfully, because otherwise she might be disappointed in the lack of mothering I gave her when I was telling her to walk it off on a fractured foot instead of taking her into the doctor like a good mom.

I want to sit here and tell you that Jesus has given me great strength and comfort through all this, but the reality is the opposite. Not because of Jesus, but because of me. I took on so much that I didn't have time to do my morning reading in the Word and start my day off like I normally do. My mind and my life has been so busy that I haven't taken the time to just stop and talk to Him. My life has been chaotic, crazy, undesirable, and hectic. It is a wonder that I am not an alcoholic. Seriously. I don't even have wine in the house. (Note to self: get a bottle of wine, just in case.)

I did start reading in the mornings again after the two girls went back with my friend. I realized the dramatic difference in my days, in my attitudes, in my whole mood and tone. It's crazy the difference and I apologize to those that had to even be around me on those days that I missed my "Jesus Time". I just pray tomorrow doesn't bring a flood or a hurricane or a fire. Lord. No fires. I just want things to chill out until Mike is back. Then they can go wild, cause I will have him to shake me and remind me to calm down and trust God.

That's right, Mike. You balance me. You keep me sane in a very chaotic life. Not just me, but our entire family. We need you to balance all of us. To lead us and guide us and keep us together. You help me more than I give you credit for around here. And on terrible days when I want to pull my hair out, you pour me a glass of wine and send me to bed. I miss that a lot. Like. A. Lot. So stay warm, use a lot of hand sanitizer after using those potties, and hurry home.  

Shipwrecked

As I finished reading through the books of Acts this morning, something stuck out to me. It is a theme that God has been smacking me in the face with every single day lately. He is like that when you actually pay attention and keep your eyes on Him. He will make himself very clear to you. With each day and each new reminder, I am more and more confident of His voice. 

Paul was a prisoner of the Roman guard. He was making his way to Rome to have his trial before Caesar, but they were traveling by ship and they were fighting some terrible storms. They had been to an island, where Paul suggested they stay, but the Captain insisted they go on to a better place where they would be more comfortable waiting out the winter weather. So on they went and got caught up in the worst storm imaginable.

Everyone was panicked and distraught. The Bible says they hadn't seen the sun or stars for many days, it was that dark and stormy. 

Acts 27:21-22
After they had gone a long time without food, Paul stood up before them and said: "Men, you should have taken my advice not to sail from Crete; then you would have spared yourselves this damage and loss. But now I urge you to keep up your courage, because not one of you will be lost; only the ship will be destroyed...."

Ok, so lets recap. These men did not listen to Paul or God. They chose to go their own way because they thought they knew what was best. They wound up in the midst of the worst storm they had ever experienced. They were exhausting every effort to save their ship. They were losing all that they had, having to throw things overboard just to stay afloat. They were so afraid and anxious that they hadn't eaten in days. They were falling apart at the seams and convinced that they were doomed. 

But, God.

In all His mercy and grace, God decided to save them. See, they didn't even believe in Him. But God had a purpose and a mission and a promise for Paul. Verses 23-24 go on to say: "Last night an angel of the God to whom I belong and whom I serve stood beside me and said, 'Do not be afraid, Paul. You must stand trial before Caesar; and God has graciously given you the lives of all who sail with you'.."

God had told Paul already that he was going to spread the gospel in Rome. This was a promise. So when everything grew dark and stormy and it seemed all hope was lost, God reminded Paul of his promise. Nothing was going to happen to any of them. They would lose all of their things and their ship, but they would not lose their lives. 

How many times do we think we know better than God? How many times do we step away from the path that we are on with Him because another road seems to be more comfortable or convenient? How could we lose sight of the only important thing there is? How could we forget that God cannot fail us? How could we ever think that God wouldn't fulfill His promises to us? 

Ok, so here we are. Off the path that leads to Him. We see where our mistakes and our failings have brought us. We realize just how very wrong we were to ever think we could do better. What now? What if God sees all that you've done? What if He knows of the terrible mistakes you've made? Will He take you back? Will He even want you? In your filthy and torn clothes standing on that island after your ship has been wrecked. You have nothing to give. Just your repentant heart. 

Here is the good news that I want to share with you. He already knows all that you've done. He's seen the ugliest and darkest corners of your heart. He loves you anyway. He wants you anyway. He knew what you would do before you did it and He died for you anyway. That's the beauty of grace. That's the beauty of mercy. That is the beauty of our God. He is the ultimate Daddy. Always ready to take your hand and gently guide you back onto the path that leads to forever with Him. So don't hide from Him. Don't fear Him. There is no fear in love and HE. IS. LOVE. 

Now take a moment and close your eyes. Listen to this song and bask in the love that is Him.

   

Training Wheels

Training Wheels. These words have come up more than twice in the last few days and therefore have caught my attention. I don't remember my own experience of having my training wheels removed, but I do remember my Lila's experience. She was the last child of mine to have them removed and I have it on video, so naturally...

It was a glorious day. Victorious and beautiful. We took those things off, strapped the helmet tightly to her head, and she climbed on her big girl bicycle. She was nervous and shaky and did NOT want me to let go. She was so afraid of being hurt, that we started on the grass. This way, if she fell, it wouldn't hurt as bad. I grabbed a firm and steady hold on the seat and the handlebars and we began our trot. 

"Pedal! Pedal! Pedal!" I encouraged her as I ran alongside her. "Don't stop pedaling! Just keep going!" As soon as my hands left her bike, she was off. Pedaling harder and faster and feeling so very proud of herself. When she looked back at me, there I was. Watching her like a hawk and cheering her on. Never taking my eyes off of her. It was glorious.

But I can't help but think... what if she had stopped pedaling? What if she hadn't trusted me and followed my instructions? What if she had let her fear overtake her? She would've fallen. She would've been hurt. She might not have gotten back on that bike for awhile. That is life isn't it? That is what we continue to do over and over on our walk with God, isn't it?

We get on this journey and it's exciting and new and nerve wracking and wonderful. Then things start happening. Circumstances change and hurts come. We start to get afraid that we will be hurt or uncomfortable or inconvenienced. We can't see the end in sight and we want to know every detail of our path laid out on a perfect little guidebook in front of us. We get shaky. Our faith starts to tremble as we become unsure if God can really get us through this. We start to doubt His great faithfulness. 

So we stop pedaling. We let go. We fall off the path. We decide to trust ourselves instead of God. Things fall apart and we look around, wondering where it all went so wrong.

Here is the crazy thing, though. If we would just swallow our fears and trust God, if we would just continue on the path and choose to keep pressing in to Him, we would finally come to see the glorious victory that lies ahead! We would finally feel the wind through our hair and the accomplishment of completing the hard path we just took. We would keep pedaling and feeling even more free by the minute. Sure, we might fall here and there. But we will get back up. Get back on the bike, knowing and trusting that we will ride just as well as we had before, because we had already experienced the victory! We can remind ourselves of the places we have been, the journey we have traveled, and the victories God has accomplished through us. That will fuel us and motivate us to continue on.

Jeremiah  29:11"... For I know the plans I have for you", declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

Trust Him. Trust the process. Even when you don't understand it. Even when everything in you wants to give up. I promise you, it will be worth it on that victory ride.

Now it's time to say goodbye

Lately, I have been struggling emotionally with all the changes happening around me. I am not one to fight or discourage change. I like change. I have a bit of a "gypsy soul". I could move to a different house every few years and not bat an eye, or change my entire house's décor and not care. I don't despise change. Unless it involves people. People are the thing that gets me. They are irreplaceable. One of a kind. Having to move on or watch them move on is hard. It never gets easier.

One of the hardest times in the last few years, was when two of my dearest friends moved away. This is the Army life, you know? It all comes with the package. But, I wasn't prepared for the deep hole it would leave in my heart. These women were here for me through some of the scariest and hardest times in my life. When I had nobody, and even sometimes when I wanted nobody- they showed up anyway. Knowing exactly what I needed. They were my first experience of spiritually thriving friendship. They not only helped me with my physical and emotional needs, but they helped strengthen me spiritually. Iron sharpening iron, right?



When these incredible women moved away, I closed my heart and didn't want to open it to anyone else. I know this is ridiculous and I have struggled with it ever since. I want the amazing friendship without the hurt and risk. Knowing the risk is worth it, I have begun opening my heart again. Allowing people in. Allowing myself to really love people again.

Which has led me right back to the part I dread. My people are leaving. One at a time, it feels like almost everyone is going. Some have already gone, and others are gearing up to leave. It doesn't seem fair and it never feels good. I know God has a plan and a purpose. I know He brought these people into my life for a reason. They have all made an effect on me and my life that I will carry into eternity. But the sad reality (no matter what we say or want to believe) is that I may very well never see these beautiful people again in this life. Finding comfort in the midst of this truth is hard.

But... God.

Acts 20: 36-38
When Paul had finished speaking, he knelt down with all of them and prayed. They all wept as they embraced him and kissed him. What grieved them most was his statement that they would never see his face again. Then they accompanied him to the ship.

"Paul's relationship with these believers is a beautiful example of Christian fellowship. He cared for them and loved then, even cried over their needs. They responded with love and care for him and sorrow over his leaving. They had prayed together and comforted one another. Like Paul, you can build strong relationships with other Christians by sharing, caring, sorrowing, rejoicing, and praying with them. You will gather others around you only by giving yourself away to them."

Wow.

So I close with this. The pain of watching people move away to different ends of this earth sucks. Miserably. But then I remember the laughter. The tears. The comfort of having someone to silently sit next to you and embrace you while you sob like a baby. The prayers of hope when you can't see any. The surprise poster board signs and silly string attacks to brighten your day and ease your fears. The coffee. The meals. The stupid random text messages. The little things that, looking back, were actually really big things. Things that will never leave my memory or my heart. 




Those things make it all worth it. Even if I never see these amazing people again, I know that I will carry them with me every day of my life. I am just grateful and humbled that I had the opportunity to know them and be a part of their life for just a little while. Thank you God, for each of these people and thank you for everything you have instilled in them. 



Ecclesiastes 3:14-15 MSG
    
¹⁴ I’ve also concluded that whatever God does, that’s the way it’s going to be, always. No addition, no subtraction. God’s done it and that’s it. That’s so we’ll quit asking questions and simply worship in holy fear.

¹⁵ Whatever was, is.
Whatever will be, is.
That’s how it always is with God.
 

Dirty Hands

It's crazy how we read through scripture nowadays and feel like it's a whole different world. In reality, the more I read, the more I see these people in our modern day society. Let's take the Pharisees for example. They were high and mighty. They knew the Word and they made sure everyone knew just how righteous they were. They even went above and beyond and made up their own rules to go along with God's. Rules. Rules. And more rules. Nobody could ever live up to the expectations that were set for them. 

Unfortunately there are many people who walk around and claim to be Christians, but look a lot like these Pharisees. The clothing is different, they may not have a religious title, but their actions and words are almost identical. It saddens me to see these people representing Jesus to the world. The amount of guilt, shame, judgment, and condemnation that is spewed onto the lost is only turning them farther away from the freedom that Jesus already paid for.

Luke 10:25-37 tells us the Parable of the Good Samaritan. It talks about a Jewish man who was beaten and bloody, laying on the side of the road. A priest came walking down that road and quickly moved to the other side. See, Jewish priests could not come into contact with "unclean" things or people. Becoming "clean" again was a tedious task and this man was not about to bother with all that. Next, a Levite came upon this beaten man. He, also, quickly went to the other side of the road and kept on traveling. A Levite was a fellow Jew (holy and chosen person of God), but he still couldn't be bothered. He probably had a lot of things to do that day, and couldn't be inconvenienced. Well, finally, a Samaritan came walking along. A Samaritan was a "mixed breed", or someone who was only half Jewish. The Jews despised them because they were not "pure". This Samaritan saw the beaten man and didn't care that he was a Jew. He didn't care what had happened or why. He saw the man and instantly felt pity on him. 

I think a more proper word is compassion. He felt compassion toward the man. He took him to the nearest inn, tended to his wounds, and gave the innkeeper money to cover his expenses. He even went so far as to tell the innkeeper that he would pay any further expenses that were to be incurred. 

See, compassion calls us to action. This man took action. He saw a need, he had the tools needed to help, and he helped. It didn't matter what his plans were, or what meeting he had to get to. It didn't matter if the beaten man was a Jew or gentile. It didn't matter if the man had done something to get himself into the mess he was in. He just simply helped. 

I am not thrilled to say that I personally know modern day Pharisees. It breaks my heart to see people hurting and in need, and to watch these "Christians" walk past on the other side of the road. If you hold that title- Christian- seriously, then maybe you should know the definition of it. It means to be Christ-like. Did Jesus Christ spend his years on this earth sitting in a church and pointing fingers? Did he walk past people in need and shake his head at them because "they had gotten themselves in this mess"? Did he keep far from the "unclean" so as not to get his hands dirty? 

No. The Jesus I know, you know- the one that the Bible describes in detail, was the opposite. He didn't even have a place to lay his head. He was too busy getting his hands dirty. He was not avoiding, but looking for the lost, the broken, the hopeless, the sinful. He didn't care how they got themselves into their messes, he just wanted to show them a way out. He came to set free the people who were held captive by the rules, regulations, and expectations that they could never live up to. He came to set things right. 

So, please, I pray that you take action next time someone you love is down and out. Next time someone you know has fallen and needs a hand to get back up, reach out to them. Maybe they dug their own hole, it doesn't matter. They don't need your judgment. That most certainly is not your place. God calls us to love them. Every single one. So, open your heart, open your hands, get ready to get them dirty, and be prepared to be inconvenienced. Show them Jesus. Give Him the glory. That is what a Christian looks like.


To clarify, I have definitely been guilty of acting like a Pharisee too. I have walked past many people who I should've taken time for, and I pray their forgiveness. I know I am not perfect and the point of this post is not to cast any judgment. I just think somewhere along the line, the whole point of Jesus has gotten lost. Our role has been mixed up and confused. The best thing all of us can do, is turn to the Word. See what God has to say about it. See what Jesus looked like, and start modeling our lives and hearts after His example.