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.

we look different now

Tan and I recently had the privilege of going to Iowa for our friends’ wedding. Still rocking the buzzed hair.

The combination of mine and Tanner’s hair off of our heads.

My friend Molly and I went on a walk and snapped a selfie.

a billion trillion lights

the stars

are

a billion trillion points of light

visible only to earth at night 

while the sun is not 

and God 

made it so.

the church 

is 

a billion trillion points of light 

visible over thousands of years of time 

while the Son is gone 

and God 

made it so.

so why are the lights flickering?

maybe because it’s darkest before dawn 

maybe because the Son won’t be gone 

much 

longer.

how much 

longer?

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.

summer of weddings

while I still haven’t gotten our official wedding pictures back, I thought I would take some time to post a few snapshots from the several weddings I attended this 2020.

In early June, I made the trip to Indiana to be a part of my pal, Hailey’s wedding.



My brother got married mid-June. Gracie, as usual, filled in as my wedding date.





At my own wedding, our preacher ran a little late, so I had to wait in the truck till he arrived!

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.