upon commencement

we are moving in less than a month. it will be my seventh move in eight years, my second with Tanner and our first with Arlo. how do we clean, pack, drive, unpack, settle in, etc. with a baby? thousands, maybe millions, of people have done it. it's possible for sure, but we've never done it before. how do we know we're doing it right?

updating our friends and family has not gotten easier for me since Arlo's birth. the days seem to pass in a twilight zone and I am lost in a flurry of paperwork, study, and preparation for the future. this morning I was encouraged by an elderly Brazilian missionary. he said, "the only thing you cannot do is give up...for the work God has ahead of you. it is not the work you will do that will count, but the work God does through you that will last for eternity." I share that because this flurry is blurring my vision. I'm struggling to see what I have to do and what will just be, does that make sense?

like, God is working through me, yes, but if I never fill out the paperwork that needs to be filled out, will we ever get where we need to go? probably not. so what are my responsibilities and where does God say, "no matter what you do, Vivian, I have ordained this to take place"?

that's where we are right now. 

moving forward and waiting for answers.

gracefully

 i've written before about how i don't think i'm doing this pregnancy thing very gracefully.  in the beginning i thought, "maybe i'm like Mary. maybe i just need to treasure all of this in my heart." but i haven't done a very good job of treasuring these months either.

there are just so many places i've been allowed to value way more than i should without anyone noticing until now.  without myself noticing. without recognizing.

like, i don't resent my son for making my thighs bigger than they've ever been, do i?  if there is resentment, it's aimed at myself for not exercising enough or eating healthily enough during pregnancy. but what would enough of those things have looked like? couldn't my body have changed anyway?  isn't that the natural order of life for some women? i shouldn't be crippled by the fear that i might never fit into my favorite pair of jeans again, but i am.

or how about the way i want Tanner to need me. i want him to value me for all the ways i make his life better. do i then resent myself anew because all i've been able to do for the past nine months is ask for his help?

 and so i avoid social media and connecting with people i love because i feel toxic. i wouldn't want to spend time with me or hear me talk about my struggles for months on end.  i barely know how to express them in this short post sent into the void.  how do i share this with the people who care, but probably can't help?

and where have i left room for God in this?  how much control over health, wellness, success, survival, etc. do i think i have? apparently way more than i actually do. as my friend Lindsay says, "Jesus, help."

help me be at peace with the way things are.

help me place value where You place it.

help me grow, hopefully, gracefully.

adjusting

 I thought it had been maybe a month since I last posted.  It has been three.

Hello, again.

I think I had hoped that if I did things "the right way," I would be saved from certain discomforts.  My current example is pregnancy. (If you missed it on instagram and facebook, Tan and I are welcoming a baby boy into the world in January!) What I mean is this: We waited to have sex till we got married. We followed all the "right" steps in building our relationship. We prayed over the decision to try to get pregnant and felt it was time. And I thought because we did all the "right" things, pregnancy would be a breeze.  I would be a glowing, joyful, worshipful pregnant woman, filled with grace and serenity.

There is not a lot of glowing grace in hugging a toilet bowl for the past 24 weeks. At least, not a lot that I can see. Of course, there is joy in the gift of life growing inside of me.  I'm amazed and thankful that God chose to give us a child, when I believed I would be unable to conceive, but those are big picture feelings.  Little, daily feelings are discouragement because I'm missing classes, mentally struggling with the concept of weight gain that doesn't look perfectly placed like the girls modelling maternity leggings, constant inadequacy and confusion when it comes to doctors and insurance and what to do when...

Where is the serenity in this?

Even as I type, I don't want to be misunderstood. I'm not asking for pity, or crying out from lack of love. The women in my family have surrounded and supported me the best they can from half way across the country. Teachers have been incredibly understanding with my absences. Tan has been amazing with doing dishes and laundry and keeping me updated with what I miss during class. The struggle, as always, is in my heart and head.

I don't have a pretty way to tie this up in a closing.  I don't even know if it's worth posting.  When I started this blog 5 years ago, my hope was that whoever joins this journey toward ministry with me would be able to look over my life and see God's faithfulness and how far He's carried me.  I guess that's the point. I want to share a moment where He's clearly carrying and it's all I can do to hang on.

wilderness training

The last 3 weeks have been spent in wilderness training, as my brother calls it. The MTC calls it “Simple Living.” Tan and I spent the majority of that time without cellphones, limited running water, minimal solar electricity, and a litany of classes about teamwork and survival. 

Throughout that time, I kept a journal (like I do) and I wanted to share a few quotes that encouraged me out there on here.

“Yeah, I am a fearful person, but God carried me every step of the way.” -Carol C.

“You can try!” -Ezzy

“Do I treat you like you’re a part of me?” -Kris H., quoting someone else

“Conflict is a classroom.” -Jim T.

april showers

 I think I've posted a blog with this title before, but as usual, I'm not going to go back and check.  this stage of life is both fast and slow. it's hard to believe we're almost finished with our first year of missionary training. half way. mind boggling.

so what does the unfaithful writer say? how do I catch the faithful readers up on recent events? it seems that, since January, it has been more and more difficult to catch my thoughts on paper. I mean, even my instagram is a graveyard. what surprises me most is that I have guilt over that. like, if I'm bad at texting AND social media now, by the time we get overseas, I won't have any friends or emotional support. that, of course, takes all the control and puts it in my hands--leaving God completely out of the picture. yikes.

why the title april showers? it's raining outside. it's been raining for days, yet the whole world around us is in bloom.  I also think it's ironic because I have been to more baby showers in the past year than in my entire life, which is saying something because I have five younger siblings and a whole lot of family having babies as I grew up. that isn't a pregnancy announcement, by the way. just in case you were suspicious.

other recent events include burning the absolute garbage out of my hand on a skillet a week and a half ago. the burns currently look like someone glued halved dates to my first and middle fingers. unrelated to the burns, I've taken up dehydrating mangos and apples to make my own dried fruit for a three week long "wilderness" training.  It's "wilderness" because we'll be in the woods about three miles from our actual house, but I think it'll be fun to see Tanner in an extended camping situation.

my thoughts turn to the steady march of time. so many of our friends this past year are graduating from the training today. the excitement for their commencement into ministry is amazing! the gnawing ache of goodbyes as a lifestyle is less so. I remember almost four years ago when I left the Philippines, I wouldn't say goodbye, just "see ya later." God gave me so much comfort in that, and it's still true, but life does not stand still between meetings. children grow up. family dynamics shift and change. friendships strengthen or fall away. hugs don't reach through phone calls or videos. and it isn't just family and friends that change! we change, too, and how do those changes reconcile when we all come together again?

april showers.

waiting on may flowers.

let’s be on the same team

Tanner and I have recently been talking to our mentors about personal and marital growth, as well as hopes for the future.  They were talking about perspective shifts that transformed their relationship, and this statement was at the top of the list. They said whenever they get in an argument or a passionate discussion, one of the most helpful things is when one of them pauses and says, “Let’s be on the same team.”

The idea wrapped up in that statement is that if we, as a unit, are on opposite teams, neither of us ever wins.  If our marriage is a competition, and I crush Tanner in winning against him, we both lose, because our marriage suffers.  However, if we are on the same team, we both win, regardless of whose thought was “right”. 

I want to be on Tanner’s team.  I also want to be on my fellow trainees’ team.  I want to be on the universal Church’s team.  I want to be on God’s team.

How often do we face an uncomfortable situation with the statement, “I hate the idea of doing this thing, so I know God is going to make me”? Yikes.  That mindset completely pits my hopes against God’s great good thing for my life, and if I push and strain against Him, Jonah’s story proves the point: in any relationship where I fight to win over the other person, we both lose. God gets rejected and my hopes are ultimately crushed. 

I want to face the future by aligning myself on my husband’s team, and together choosing to be on God’s team. If we’re trying to win, I’d much rather win God’s way together.

apartment 60 C

 Six months ago, my roommate and I were several weeks deep into mandatory quarantine. Today, Tanner and I are only a few days into yet another forced isolation.  We, thankfully, remain healthy, but our reality feels like a strange limbo.  It seems like every day we are hearing from missionaries who deeply desire to be overseas to begin or continue ministry and they can't go. Travel is apparently virtually impossible in light of Covid. In my small, human mind, the present and future of overseas ministry feels impossible.  People say things like, "When this is over..." but where is their guarantee that this will ever truly be over?

And then our house fills with the light of the rising sun, and a friend tells us that we are going to receive a financial support from their parents this month, and the coffee tastes amazing, and there are so many blessings pushing us forward into ministry that I have to call to remembrance what I know to be true. God has called us to be trained now, not five years past or future.  He cares for every "little picture" detail I notice and controls every "big picture" stroke I cannot fathom.

It is time to be comforted by my inability, rather than pretending I am able on my own. It is time...and yet this change of perspective is overdue. It is time, though I wonder if I will remember tomorrow? God is able to hold me in a place of dependence, I am not.

new perspectives

 when new people speak into your life, new pathways or connections need to be made in your mind. new realities need to be accepted and considered. new ideas need an opportunity to brew, to be mulled over.  here are some of those thoughts over the past few weeks:

"sometimes God uses people to draw our hearts out, so we can learn, in time, to allow the Holy Spirit to that, just the two of us."  a question that I have carried since childhood is, "why isn't praying enough? why does it feel like I need to talk to people, even after I talk to God?"  the reality is that there are two truths. the first truth is that God has created us in community. the second is that God created our most core desires and needs to be met in Him and Him alone. those two truths together are what make that opening quote to this paragraph relevant. God uses His people to work with each other in the process of becoming totally reliant on Him. that answers my question, but it takes time to mull it over and accept it.

"everyone has been wounded by someone else, and everyone has wounded someone else. no one is an exception."  that reality is devastating to me.  at the very core of who I was made to be, I am disgusted and horrified when faced with the reality that I have wounded others and will continue to do so, accident though it may be, in the future. that's a truth, too, but is God's intent with showing me the truth for me to get stuck on devastation? does He want me to spiral downward in despair?  no! the hope, the purpose, the intent is for me to recognize how and where I wound others and to stop, to apologize, to ask God for help in healing rather than hurting.

i am learning, and it is still a process.

homesick and hospitality

Homesick and hospitality are two words tumbling around my mind quite frequently these days.  I’ve thought about homesickness and I’ve wondered if it’s just the adolescent term for nostalgia. I miss home. I miss the old pattern of inviting people into my parents’ house, where the food is always good (by my estimation) and, while I was technically the host, my parents were largely responsible for the welcoming atmosphere. Even though this does not conclude my thoughts on homesickness, it is a rather seamless segue into hospitality.

A book I’ve been reading recently defines hospitality as providing a place or home for strangers, and the reality is that I want to be the stranger welcomed in. I am nearly crippled by the fear that, if I were to invite strangers in, my home and heart will be rejected. My heart is already home to so many aches (both homegrown and borrowed), the anticipated rejection is lodged in my throat like a stone - incapable of going up or down.

So you see, these two concepts circle each other like cat and dog around my train of thought, the ache for safe familiarity and the fear of being an unwelcomed stranger or an undesirable place for strangers to rest their feet. Jesus, you promised all things would be possible in your strength. I think the problem I’m running into is that my strength seems more accessible. Abba God, I need you. Ruah, spirit of God, move from my heart and mind through my mouth and arms in the strength I only possess through you. Use me to strengthen the people around me. I love you. Your will be done forever and ever.

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*before i begin this post, i want to make a promise to you, my dear friend: i will post a photo update about the wedding when i get our photos. i also promise that i am happily married.  now, without further delay, a post about life post-wedding insanity.*

I've started packing boxes with everything inside wrapped in colorful tissue paper.  Why? Because my heart and head were very much held fast by anxiety and fear about moving, organizing, packing...and the Holy Spirit has a way of recapturing the attention that is supposed to be his. 

To be honest, I really only started using tissue paper because I ran out of bubble wrap. Once I was a few minutes into the tissue paper.  A gentle thought crept into my hectic, frazzled mind, "When you unpack, it will almost be like unwrapping presents." Then a quiet moment before the next thought, "How much of your life is a present right now?"

The reality is that so much of my internal monologue lately has been characterized by the words, "have to." Obligation, not liberation, has been my default reason.  How many times have I journaled, blogged, and even pondered this simple truth: perspective matters.  Yet how many times do I forget that truth in its simplicity?

Our kitchen is packed in multi-colored tissue paper.  The list of things that need to be done before we move is ever-growing.  But we have love and grace because God first loved us.  He is the One who has enabled us to move to Missouri this fall, which means He will also allow us to complete every task before us on our way there.  There are no accidents.  There are no trials that come our way by mistake.  Everything is a lesson, a growing pain, a step in a glorious journey.

Perspective matters.

Flash Flood Warning

My friend, Anna, is really worried that, as Wisconsin (hopefully) warms into spring, the large snowbanks will cause flash flooding.  We laugh at her, whether or not she's right, because pretty much everyone I know will trade a couple flash floods for windchills above the negative degrees.

It's been so long since I've written about what's going on in my personal life.  I mean, I can't remember the last time I wrote a journal entry longer than three sentences, let alone wrote a blog post that wasn't a school assignment. Sometimes (most times) I want to give myself a pass on posting because, let's be real, my only reader right now is my mother.  Even she barely reads this.  But then I remember the point is just to keep the practice of writing regularly for when I'm in a ministry position where writing consistently actually matters.

With that in mind, let's go through the brownie-frownie exercise.

Brownie: I got to go to the Ethnos360 Missionary Training Center down in Missouri last weekend. Honestly, I didn't even go because I wanted an exposure trip to convince me to go there when I'm done in Wisconsin. Some of the sweetest people I've been blessed to know are currently on interim staff down at the MTC: part of my Philippines fam, the Brooks.  Once again, they have been a complete answer to prayer. Over the past month, I've really been feeling the need for someone older and wiser, who's been where I want to go, to sit me down and challenge my thinking.  That's exactly what Danny and Pip did.  From my worries about having a home church, to finding financial support for 2 years at MTC and after, to my mounting anxiety about my next visit to the doctor over spring break, they challenged the way I was approaching each situation.

Frownie (but really a brownie, too): On the way back to Wisconsin from Missouri, my car broke down.  We were only 20 minutes from the MTC campus, so friends were able to come rescue us, but my car wasn't fixable at 10 pm on a Saturday night.  I had to be back for work early, so I caught a ride back to Wisconsin with a school van while Tanner and Michael waited with my car through Sunday.  In the end, one of the main belts had broken and more steering lines had rotted out.  I was amazed at how the community of Christ just completely came together in the situation.  People who don't even know me personally towed my car back to campus, figured out what parts I needed, purchased them, and fixed the car.  All free of charge to me.  In the end, Tanner and Michael got the car back to Wisconsin barely 24 hours after me.  At first, I saw the surface blessing of God providing people coming through to help me. BUT THEN! Guys, I literally wouldn't have been able to afford my car breaking any other place in any other way.  Like, God knew that and planned this minor inconvenience to take care of me.  He's always providing.  Every moment.  Why do I ever think I know what's best for me?

And that's where I'm at.