welcome home

 We (Tanner and I) arrived at the Missionary Training Center in Missouri relatively early last Saturday evening.  To our astonishment, our new home is part of a fourplex - complete with a guest bedroom, one and a half baths, and our very own washer and dryer. After two days of unpacking, and a few more days of settling in, I find myself stumbling around in search of my "sea legs".

Of course, we're nowhere near the sea, but my knees are wobbly and my head is spinning.  This isn't the kind of place where people like me get to sit back and observe the social waters before plunging in headfirst. And this isn't the time when I am allowed to put up a convincing veneer in public, while crumbling emotionally and physically in private.  In private, I'm learning to navigate the winding river of marriage with Tanner.

This year has been a slew of best-laid plans set aside to make way for God's best. And yet, somehow, I still attempt to convince myself that every new struggle or situation needs to be bullied through my way.  Bullying through didn't provide funds for our first year of training.  Bullying through didn't plan our perfect wedding. Bullying through didn't get us moved into our new home.  Bullying through does, however, lead to more than a couple tears, hurt feelings, and misunderstandings.

And so we set out on yet another chapter of God patiently reminding his boneheaded child to hold his hand and trust.

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.

praying this morning

Abba, Father God,
it hasn't been that long since we've talked
but there's a burden
lingering on my back as if I've
been ignoring You.
Can we please talk, God?
Just the two of us in the quiet,
us in the garden,
working through how this old, heavy weight
behind my eyes grew
to the point, oh God,
where I keep cracking my face into
crumbling concrete and
that's a metaphor for forgetting
everything You do.
Like how my life, God,
would be nothing (no, really, nothing;
like in a trash can,
like no recycling, just straight refuse)
if not, God, for You.
Abba, Father God,
my Security,  my Foundation,
my Resurrection,
replace this weight with holy freedom
to wholly worship You.