It’s a Weird Life

I have the weirdest life.

And I’m not just saying that for all of the “normal” reasons my life has been weird for the past 15 years.  I’m saying that my life is weirder than my normal weird.  And I’m not sure how I feel about that.

For the first time ever, I loaded up groceries from my own house and took them over to my oldest daughter’s house.  Did anyone catch that?  My DAUGHTER has a HOUSE!  Since when do children own houses…and live in them without their mothers?  That’s just weird.

And that’s not all.

My son has been visiting family friends for almost a week.  Not only do I miss him terribly, but I threw away leftovers this morning.  This isn’t the first time, either, folks.  I have thrown out food three times this month.  This is unacceptable behavior to me.  And, yet, it has happened repeatedly.  On both counts, weird.

We’re not finished.

In less than a week, my youngest daughter will be on her way to a jungle in Papua New Guinea where she will stay with missionary friends of ours for almost two months.  She will be gone when our next litter of puppies is born…and on my birthday…and over Thanksgiving…and on my son’s birthday.  What was I thinking when I encouraged her to do this?  How am I going to enjoy a single bite of my roast turkey and sweet potatoes when my favorite redhead sits with some strange family (No offense, Karie.) 8,615 miles away from home?  Weird, weird, weird.

As you have surely guessed, I have entered the phase of the emptying nest.  I feel like it began a couple of years ago when our oldest daughter jumped from her 13th year of homeschooling into working full-time.  I have been trying to adjust ever since.

I am daily being reminded of what my mom has always told me:

Things change.

To everything there is a season.

This, too, shall pass.

I was blessed with a mom who loved hard and then let go graciously.  Though our experiences don’t line up exactly, I am taking the lessons I learned from her to heart.  While every change that I encounter these days is not one that I specifically ordered, many of them are.  I planned for independent young adults.  I prepared for financially responsible children.  I sought after godly, loving friends who would invest in our family.  I prayed for Christ-focused kids who would be willing to go where God called them.

The changes that I didn’t want?  Well, they’re changes nonetheless.  I can fight them, avoid them or adjust to them.  Different changes require different responses.  The bottom line, though, is that this life is not about me.  I may have little say in what is going on, but I have total control over how I respond to every little thing.

That oughtta keep me busy.

Years ago, I learned to share my story after the hurting was over.  There’s too much emotion on the surface during the trial, and I never want to publicly give more attention to how I feel than to what is true.  Having said that, I’d like to share about this season of my life as it continues to play out.  I certainly won’t share everything, but I do want to share some of what I experience during this transition.  I’m in the mood to remember and to ponder and to plan ahead.  And, to be honest, I’m in a phase of grieving.  I think it will be good for me to put my thoughts on paper, so to speak, and it might be good for some of you to hear them.  We are never as alone as we feel that we are.

So, for now, I sit in my unusually quiet house and try to figure out how to break the habit of cooking for a crowd and planning for leftovers.  Weird.

Our God Will Fight

Are you weary? Worn out? Discouraged? Half-paralyzed with fear of the unknown? Do you have something in your life that you’ve been praying about and working toward so hard that it is robbing you of your peace and sucking the breath from your lungs? 

Me, too. 

There are seasons of life that just plain hurt. There are times when we just don’t know. There are days that seem like years and there are wounds that seem like they will never, ever heal. 

You are not alone. 

Ever. 

Take hope! 

After pouring my heart out to God on my knees once again this morning, I picked up my Bible and did not want to read the next passage in John that I am “supposed” to read. It is about His crucifixion, and my heart cannot bear the weight of that this morning. So, I did what my friend, Melissa, does and just randomly opened up my Bible to see what might be there. To be honest, I didn’t expect much. Melissa has some sort of miraculous ability to turn her well-worn pages to just the right place for her situation. I have kind of coveted her ability. 

But God knew my desperation this morning, and He knows my situation. (Better than I do myself!) He provided me with just what I needed. 

In the Old Testament book of Nehemiah, Nehemiah leads his people in rebuilding the wall of their city. City walls were a big deal back then; it was their primary protection against their enemy. The wall is what allowed their families to go through their daily routines in peace. Their wall had been destroyed, and Nehemiah was rallying his friends and neighbors to re-build it. 

As you can imagine, their enemies weren’t too thrilled with this little building project. 

Let me share with you what I read this morning: 

Therefore I (Nehemiah) stationed some of the people behind the lowest points of the wall at the exposed places, posting them by families, with their swords, spears and bows. After I looked things over, I stood up and said to the nobles, the officials and the rest of the people, “Don’t be afraid of them. Remember the Lord who is great and awesome, and fight for your brothers, your sons and your daughters, your wives and your homes”.

When our enemies heard that we were aware of their plot and that God had frustrated it, we all returned to the wall, each to his own work. 

From that day on, half of my men did the work, while the other half were equipped with spears, shields, bows and armor. The officers posted themselves behind all the people of Judah who were building the wall. Those who carried materials did their work with one hand and held a weapon in the other, and each of the builders wore his sword at his side as he worked.

God reminded me this morning to keep doing what I’m doing. Keep fixing meals and cleaning bathrooms and teaching kids and making appointments and loving and laughing and living…but keep a sword in my hand and be ready to use it. 

This is a battle. The enemy comes to steal, to kill and to destroy. He is not happy about the walls Dave and I are building–walls of Truth, walls of prayer, walls of faithfulness. He is angry, and he will use every weapon in his arsenal: discouragement, deception, distraction, culture, fear, complacency…the list goes on and on. 

So. Go about your day, dear friends. But be vigilant. The enemy will come. When he does, be ready to fight. Our God, who is great and awesome, will fight for us. 

Cold Day at Home

 

As I type this, the thermometer reads -8 degrees.  With the howling winds, I’ve heard it feels more like -30 degrees.  Either way, it’s enough to make a body want to stay inside.

I made biscuits and sausage gravy for the kids this morning, which I don’t think I’ve made since last summer.  I can’t say that such a heavy breakfast has increased my motivation level, but it sure tasted good.  I may be content to stay under a blanket on the couch most of the day.  Between mugs of hot tea, a new book and a crochet project, I’m pretty sure I could fill my time quite pleasantly.  I pulled out my DVD collection of Little House on the Prairie and put in a two-parter during breakfast–the one where the Ingalls family meets Albert in Winoka.  I’m holding part 2 as a carrot for when I finish a few necessary projects.  (Another excellent couch activity.)

I am currently working on a fundraiser project for the kids’ Bible Bowl team.  We’re going to make pizzas and cookies to sell for summer tournament expenses, and I am trying to nail down our best price option…once I figure out how much of each ingredient I’m going to need to meet our sales obligations.  Once again, I find myself entering unknown territory on another big project.  Thankfully, I am getting some solid counsel from those more experienced than I am on this event.

I am also working on thawing the pipes for our upstairs shower.  As Dave walked out the door this morning, he recommended that I turn the upstairs tub faucet on to keep the water flowing.  By the time we did, it was already only able to trickle.  A space heater in the bathroom didn’t help, so I put in a call to Builder Dave.  One of the kids’ beds needed moved, a vent plate needed to be removed and a space heater needed to be directed at the pipes in the wall.  We’ll see how that goes.

I know I’m in the minority, but I really do enjoy even these bitter cold days.  Our schooling, working and relaxing are mostly limited to a couple of rooms, thanks to the wonderful heat of our wood-burning stove.  We keep a carafe of hot water for tea and enjoy the slower pace.  Even the dogs, 4 of which are in the house with us right now, seem more laid-back and content to just enjoy the peace and warmth of a day at home.  These days remind me of the years when my kids were younger–when we schooled together in the mornings and then played game after game of Sorry! and Boggle and Battleship and Canasta.  The nostalgia I feel on these days overwhelms me with gratitude for the choices we’ve made to live on one income and to educate here at home.

We have been so blessed.

I don’t know what you’ve got going on today, but I hope you find joy in even the simplest things–a warm home, running water, good food, sweet memories.

Move On

We are a whopping 10 days into the new year, and some of us have already failed on our resolutions.

Such is life.

Most of you know that I have the love/hate privilege of living with my own marriage/family therapist.  The love part of that is that there are a lot of living-a-successful-life tidbits of information regularly thrown out in our home (and in our car, and in our gardens, and in our hay field, and in our woods…).  The hate part of that is that there are days when certain ones among us don’t feel like being counseled.  (That would mostly probably be me.)

Anyway, one of the “tidbits” that I have really appreciated from my counselor-husband’s mouth has to do with resolutions.  Counselor Dave has the remarkable ability to look at the big picture when many of us want to hone in on one tiny aspect.  Let me illustrate.

Let’s pretend that the doctor says you need to lose some weight…or else.  The truth of the diagnosis impacts you enough that you wisely forego all of the fad diets that cannot plausibly be maintained and immediately begin to make healthy eating and exercise a priority.  Good things happen, and the pounds start to come off.  Within nine months, you’re down 30 pounds.  (Good job!)

As so often happens, you experience a setback of some sort–an injury, a false sense of security, the holiday season–something that causes your newfound resolve to waiver.  You gain back 18 pounds before you know what hits you.

Despair.  Discouragement.  Depression.  You succumb to the obvious:  You are a failure.  Life is no longer worth living because you obviously can’t do anything right.  You recognize that you clearly aren’t cut out for a healthier life, so you jump right back into a lifestyle of high-fructose corn syrup, chemical preservatives and sitting in your recliner.  Why bother?

Do I exaggerate?

I may be a homeschool mom, but I’m pretty sure 30 minus 18 is 12.  Before you fell into deep and utter despair, you were still down 12 pounds.  Twelve pounds!  That’s nothing to sneeze at.

So, as your personal (unpaid and uninvited) counselor, go easy on yourself.  Look at the whole picture.  Every healthy decision you make is a good one.  When you make a poor choice, it doesn’t negate all of the good choices.  Whether you’re trying to eat better, to exercise more, to stop smoking, to read your Bible, to save money, to stop drinking, to spend less time caught up in the drama of social media, to be less of a jerk–whatever your goals are–be gentle with yourself.  You are going to mess up from time to time; that’s understandable.  Just resolve to not mess up on the same thing for a lifetime.

Instead of focusing on your failures, learn from them and move on.  Move on to making the next right choice.

 

 

So Long, Rights

View from the mission house in Haiti.

While I was writing in my journal this morning, I reflected on many of the blessings of 2018.  We graduated our oldest daughter from homeschool and she is now the Children’s Director at our local library.  Our younger two kids had exceptionally positive experiences in Bible Bowl, making friends, learning to compete with integrity and storing huge chunks of God’s Word in their hearts.  A friend’s mom was diagnosed with cancer…and then miraculously cured.  Both Dave and I experienced relief from pain that had made life uncomfortable.  Dave also built a deck off the back of our house which we have enjoyed immensely.  So many good things!

I am not one for setting New Year’s resolutions per se, but I am a goal-setter.  Over the years, I have determined to learn at least one new skill each year, but I don’t necessarily decide what that skill will be on January 1st.  Usually, the skills I seek to learn are things I think I would enjoy–like making jam or smoking meat or crocheting a scarf.  Sometimes, though, the skills I strive to learn are things I feel like I need to know–like butchering a chicken, pressure-canning or improving my computer skills.  I haven’t decided what 2019’s will be yet, though I’m open to suggestions.

I often try to choose a passage of scripture as a theme for the year, too.  I confess that I haven’t done this for the past couple of years; I was in too much of a funk to muster the “want to”.  My spiritual life was kind of on auto-pilot for far too long.  Over the last couple of weeks, I’ve been compelled to revisit this old habit.  I’ve been mulling over options for 2019 and not really coming up with anything that felt right.  This morning, however, I did.

Unfortunately.

The problem with wanting more of Jesus is that there has to be less of me involved.  Quite frankly, dying to ourselves hurts.  As an American, I have been highly indoctrinated in my rights.  As a Christ-follower, it is not about me and my rights at all.  It is about Christ and Christ alone.  This doesn’t always make me feel very warm and fuzzy.

While I was reading this morning, this is what grabbed my attention for 2019:

If you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from His love, if any fellowship with the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and purpose.  Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves.  Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others.  –Philippians 2:1-4

And the passage gets worse from there.  These first few verses oughtta keep me busy for a while.

I’ll be honest:  I’m struggling in a few key relationships in my life.  Big relationships, important relationships.  Relationships with people who live in my house and who have a place in my everyday life.  Relationships that are more significant to me than almost anything else in the world.  Relationships in which I feel like my rights are sometimes trampled.  In which I feel like I deserve something better.  In which I sometimes feel like I want to get even.

Heaven, help me.

I admit to typing these words with tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat.  I admit to not understanding so much about what the Lord calls me to do.  And, quite frankly, I admit to often not even knowing what the next right choice is.

But.  I am committed to trusting Him.  I am committed to trying to do what He has called me to do.  These relationships are too important to sacrifice on the altar of my rights.

I don’t know what your spiritual goals are for 2019, but I’d love to hear them.  I’d be honored to keep you in prayer as you strive to grow in Christ.  And I’d sure be blessed if you would keep me in your prayers as well.

Now to Him Who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us, to Him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever!  Amen.  –Ephesians 3:20

Focus 30: Day 16

Quite possibly the only thing I appreciate about Daylight Saving Time is the early mornings after the clocks “fall back”.  I can get up at my normal time and have an extra hour of peace and quiet with a fire in the woodstove and my favorite dog at my feet.  Delightful.

Four-fifths of our family spent most of yesterday in the Indianapolis area.  Our younger two had a Bible Bowl competition in Greenwood, and then Dave wanted to make a few stops on the way home to look at gas ranges.  Our oven has been out-of-whack for over a week, and what Dave thought would fix it did not.  Since he built our house 12 years ago, he has said that when our electric range goes out, he would replace it with a gas range.  It looks like now is the time.  The gas line is mostly run; he just needs to add the hook-up (I think).  And, of course, we need to find a basic model replacement in our price range.  I do a lot of baking, and I don’t want to give up any oven space.  Other than that, we are content to skip the bells and whistles.

(By the way, did you know that you can pay well over $4,000 for a smart fridge?  It can play music, give you the weather forecast, place your grocery orders and tell you whether or not you’ve got eggs in the “henhouse”.  So, for those of us who love the idea of hanging out with our refrigerators, this may be a great option!)

But I digress.

Our third appliance-shopping stop was at a Home Depot.  We pulled into a parking space right next to some old friends of ours who don’t live any closer to that store than we do.  What a nice surprise!  Dave and I were able to get a quick visit in with a couple of people we don’t get to see nearly as often as we’d like.

As the wife and I were catching up on our kids and her grandkids, the conversation touched on the empty nests that are looming in our not-so-distant future.  This beautiful woman has already transitioned a couple of her kiddos into the adult world, but she still has one daughter left at home.  She said she and her husband were talking about buying an RV and traveling the country when their daughter was on her own.  She shared that she’s been doing the same thing for decades and loving it, and now she’s starting to love the idea of something new.  I appreciate that.

As a homeschool mother of three, I have spent practically all day every day (with very few exceptions) with my kids for the past 18 years.  While there have been tough moments, I wouldn’t trade them for a month-long vacation in the Mediterranean.  I have truly loved my time with them, and I plan to keep doing what I’ve been doing until I am no longer needed to do it.

That time will be here very soon.

I think part of the “funk” I’ve been feeling is this mourning of a life that I loved no longer being an option for me.  I have some pretty amazing extended family and a precious network of friends, but I cannot think of one other combination of people I would rather have shared so much of my time with than my own husband and children.  My little family is not my everything, but they are my primary privilege and calling.  I have no regrets about dedicating so much of my resources to them.  My heart grieves with the realization that the changes that have come with graduating one daughter is only the tip of the iceberg for us.  I honestly ache with this understanding; yet, at the same time, my heart is full of joy and pride in the capable young people I call my children.

I think the lesson I am learning is that, just as God has a purpose for my children in every stage of their lives, He has a purpose for me in every stage of mine.  For now, I have heard Him say that it is time to stay the course and to pour everything He has called me to pour into my children.  I am to finish this season well with the understanding that He will work out the details of what comes later.

I just have to trust Him on that.

My identity is not in being a wife or a mother.  My identity is in being a child of God.  I am not out of a job just because my kids leave home.  My job description will certainly change, but my place in this world is no less valuable.  If I insist on trying to perform a job that is no longer beneficial to perform, I risk damaging my own legacy as well as the legacies of the people around me.

Lord, please give me Your grace in this season of life.  Please remind me that my identity is in You and that, just as You have equipped me, you are willing to equip my children as they enter adulthood.  Help me to release them into Your capable hands with love and in peace…and then to bow out gracefully, walking in Your wisdom along the way.  Help me to trust You to show me where I am needed to lend a hand and where they need to stand on their own.

Focus 30: Day 12

 

As my friend, Emily, says, “Wowzy ba-dowzy“.

Yeeaaahhh, it’s been one of thoooose days.

I blame it on Day 10’s post on expectations.

I could give you the long, gory details of this day, but I won’t.  I’m not quite comfortable enough to introduce you to today’s particular brand of crazy.

Let me just say that today has hurt.  My neck hurts, my head hurts, my feet hurt and my heart hurts.  I am struggling with feelings of failure, sorrow and uncertainty.  Nothing major has happened–just life lived among imperfect people.

And I’m their leader.

Two things hit home with me this morning during my quiet time.

The first is this:

Faith by its very nature must be tested and tried.  And the real trial of faith is not that we find it difficult to trust God, but that God’s character must be proven trustworthy in our own minds.  –Oswald Chambers

This is what I was talking about yesterday.  I have recently found myself struggling with the trustworthy-ness of God by doubting that He really has things under control.  I confess to times when I have elbowed Him out of the way so that I can do life on my own.  The results are consistently lackluster.  Such ludicrous arrogance!

The second thing that touched my heart this morning is a lesson that I love to re-learn:

In John 6:1-15, we hear the account of Jesus feeding the thousands.  One of the reasons I especially appreciate John’s perspective of this story is because of verse 12b which says that, after feeding thousands of folks with one little boy’s lunch, Jesus commanded His disciples to gather up the leftovers so that nothing is wasted.  I believe that this sets such a beautiful example to us–not only for our physical resources like food and possessions–but also for our everyday lives.

God will waste nothing if we let Him use it–even our leftovers.  

I love that!  I can only imagine the joy that the little boy felt as Jesus fed thousands of people with his small, seemingly insignificant lunch just because He was willing to hand it over.  What if that little boy had held the lunch behind his back, insisting that it wasn’t enough?  He would have missed a miracle.  And, who was blessed by all of those leftovers?  I mean, how many mommas didn’t have to cook that night because Jesus sent them home with enough carry-out to feed their hungry crews on the walk home?

One lunch.  Thousands fed.  Leftovers valued.

Lord, I hand the leftovers of this day over to you.  I hand You the leftovers of myself–the aching head, the tense shoulders, the sore feet and the anguished heart.  After Your redeeming touch, may it be used to feed Your people for Your glory–especially the people with whom I am fortunate enough to live.  Thank You.

 

 

 

Focus 30: Days 10 & 11

Oops.  I forgot to post a blog yesterday.  I still had my quiet time, but between the one-year-old I babysit on Mondays, the two 10-week-old puppies we’re currently training and our homeschooling routine, I got distracted.  Plus, the weather was so remarkably beautiful yesterday that the great outdoors beckoned me to spend a couple of hours in my flower beds after the baby left.  It was a really good day.

I’ve been thinking about “good days”.  Are they only good when they go according to our expectations?  I once heard someone remark that the surest way to ruin a marriage is through expectations.  There’s some truth to that.  Certainly, we can expect our spouse to be committed, to be faithful, to not engage in criminal activity.  These things should be the norm.  We all know, though, that when we expect our spouses to always get us exactly what we want for our birthdays, to know precisely what we are thinking at all times, to continually look (and to smell) their best, to make certain that their dirty clothes always hit the hamper and to forever light up at the sight of us, we will surely be disappointed.

And they can expect the same of us.

So, back to “good days”.  I think we need to be careful of our expectations.  If we enter each day with the perspective of, “God, show me where You want me and how You can use me today”, I believe our days may be more fulfilling.  I mean, if we consider our days to be more about Him and less about us, we already experience the freedom of not needing to be in control–not needing to perform.  We just need to believe and to act in obedience.

That’s what I thought about yesterday.  Now, for today’s thoughts…

Humans, especially female humans (sorry, ladies…), have a nasty habit of trying to control everything around them in the name of “perfectionism”, and then we try to deceive ourselves (and others) into accepting that our frenetic desire to micromanage things is truly in their best interests.  Oftentimes, this “perfectionist” tendency is aimed at creating a certain image for all the world to see and to admire.

The problem is that we are far from perfect.

I recently had a conversation with a sweet friend who is struggling with some fear and anxiety.  There’s no one reason that she can pinpoint for her situation.  She is a beautiful, competent women who is treasured by her husband and family.  She has it all.  Due to the fear and hopelessness that I’ve also been feeling, we were able to have an honest conversation about these struggles.

One of the things I’ve mulled over since our discussion is that we both acknowledge that our fear is essentially our lack of trust in God.  It’s like we’re choosing to believe that we know something God doesn’t and should therefore not fully trust Him.  So, we roll up our sleeves and pile all of life’s messiness into a huge bag (a really cute, bag, mind you–one with appropriate dividers and uber-trendy designs–only the best for our mess!), then we hoist the bag onto our backs, assuring the world that “we’ve got this”.  All the while, the bag is splitting at its seams and oozing a trail of garbage in our wake.

Yeah, we’ve totally got this.

When is enough enough?  When will we let go of our stubborn, foolish pride and drop the stinkin’ bag?  When will we say “no” to what we don’t need so that we can more effectively say “yes” to what we do?

When will we learn?

As a dog returns to its vomit, so a fool repeats his folly.  –Proverbs 26:11

Somewhat crass, but certainly succinct.

Once again, I am faced with the fact that I am making choices here.  I am choosing to load up my own dirty mess onto my own shoulders.  Time and time and time again.  Quite frankly, I’m tired of making such a mess.

These past 11 days have been good for me.  I am reminded that, for me, intentionally starting my day face-to-face with my Lord is a game-changer.  It doesn’t make my days perfect, but it makes me better prepared for the imperfection.  I tend to be more proactive and less reactive to the circumstances in my life.  My priorities are easier to see, and I have been less impulsive in my commitments.  I am also less moody, which I attribute to having better awareness of my goals each day.  Like I mentioned in an earlier post, I am taking time to gas up before I start racing down the highway.

Maybe we really can teach an old dog new tricks.

The Life of a Christian

The following story was written by my son, Isaac, last winter.  He is fourteen, and I think he is pretty stinkin’ amazing–for a number of reasons.  I hope you are as encouraged by his story as I am.  

The cold air bit at my toes as I tried to warm up the bed. It had been a long, hard day. As sleep came I was swept into an unforgettable dream…Two paths split from where I stood. The one to the left appeared easy. Straight and wide, many travelled this way.
But the one to the right of where I stood looked difficult and treacherous. It wound steeply up a mountain and was lost among the rocks and rivers.

The path to the left lead to a massive pit out of which came the sound of screams and agony. Fire licked the sides of the pit and yet darkness pervaded the area. However, at the end of the difficult path was a kingdom of light. Joy seemed to emanate, shining its light to all around. A man stood before this kingdom “dressed in a robe reaching down to His feet, and with a golden sash around His chest. His head and hair were white like wool, as white as snow, and His eyes were like blazing fire”. (Revelation 1:13-14). He seemed to beckon me from afar.

Then I saw beside me one of my friends. He, too, saw the two paths and the pit and the radiant kingdom with the brilliant man standing before it. Together we started down the right path, seeking to reach the beautiful kingdom. We stumbled on together lifting one another up when the other fell. Our progress was slow and difficult. We pushed on, though, the only thing keeping us going was the reward and each other. Ahead we saw a sign that read The Valley of Humility. The valley looked desolate and dangerous. We could see many men cross over to the path to the left on reaching this place. Those who did were swept along with the crowd, unable to turn back. We then saw three people try to go around the valley. It seemed easy enough, but then, as we watched, they stumbled and fell onto the path of destruction where they were carried off by the crowd.

“See how much easier it looks over there!” I said pointing “Let us travel that path for a while and then come back over here.”

But my friend said “No, if I fall I wish to be found on the path of my Lord, not on the easy path of destruction.”

“Suit yourself, fool,” I said “But as for me, I will go on the easy path, then I will switch when I get close to the end.”

He begged me not to do this but my mind was made up.

I ran back down the path I had worked so hard to climb. Going back is easy, I decided, for most of it was downhill. The farther down the path I got, the easier it was to go. Before long I was flying towards my fate. On arriving at the beginning I quickly turned down the left path. I have not been deceived! thought I. This path is easy to travel indeed. Looking to the right I saw The Valley of Humility. Not much further down I saw my friend toiling down the “path of the peace” (Romans 3:17). Ha! I thought, this path is so much easier!

Not much later I heard the pitter patter of feet coming up behind me. I turned and saw a man running towards me on the path of destruction. I hailed him and asked his name.

“My name,” he said “is Billy. What should I call you?”

“Paul,” I said.

We traveled down the path together for some way. I told him of how I had been traveling the path of peace but had turned aside when I saw how easy this one was. “I plan to turn back when I am almost to my destination” I said.

He told me that he didn’t believe that there was really anything at the end of the paths. He said that it was only an illusion. “And,” said he “why not travel the easy path if there isn’t anything at the end?”

After we were nearly to the end of the path I told him that I was going to turn aside and go to the path of peace.

“Have it how you like it,” he said “But I will stay here on this easy path. For as I said before, there is nothing after death, so why not enjoy life?”

I nodded but then turned to go right. “Ouch!” I exclaimed. It seemed that there was something in the way. I tried again and still I was not able to pass to the other path. It was as if there was an invisible wall in the way. What’s this? I thought why can’t I go to the other path? Then I heard a voice exclaim “you must turn and go back the way you came. Make right the evil that you have wrought. Then, and only then, will you find Me.” I looked and saw that it was the righteous man clothed in white that had said these things. I sat down on the path where I had previously stood so cocky. All the way back? I thought.

“Why have you forsaken me Lord?” I shouted.

“It was not I that forsook you, loved one. Rather it was you that left me.”

What have I done? I thought.

Picking up a burst of strength and determination, I fought my way back up the path. I was moving along, slowly but surely, and I could just barely see the end of the path (Or should I say the beginning?), when all of the sudden, whoosh! I was knocked off my feet by a giant gust of wind. Hot air tore at my body making me cry out in pain. I stumbled back up, then it came again, whoosh! I turned and behold! Flying up behind me was a huge red dragon. It swooped low on the path and came to a landing in front of me, barring the way to the path of peace. The beast snarled and reached its massive head down to look me in the eyes. Hot air rose from its nostrils and choked me. But then it spoke, and its voice was so sweet and convincing I forget about its razor sharp teeth and its spear like claws, its evil eyes and its harsh red scales. It said “Why are you leaving the beautiful path I made for you?”

“This is a path of “ruin and wretchedness”” (Romans 3:16) I said. “I am traveling the path of peace so that I might see the righteous man and His kingdom.”

“But isn’t this path so much better?” the dragon said soothingly.

“The path seems better for sure,” said I “But the path is short so it’s what lies at the end that really matters.”

“Why, you ungrateful wretch!” the dragon snarled, his voice suddenly terrible, “You will pay for that! I shall take you back to my pit where you will be my slave forever!” he then lunged at me, seeking to take me up in his powerful claws and carry me back to his dark abode.

I barely ducked under his claws in time. I then rolled and started running back to the path of peace but it didn’t seem that I would make it. I could again feel the dragon’s massive wings grabbing air and throwing it under his body. I tripped and fell as a scorching blast knocked me off my feet. A huge jet of flame tore into the ground ahead of me, the scorched soil burned my feet as I ran over the top of it.

Ten more feet to go and I would be on the path of peace. Five more feet, three more feet, now I’m on it! I’m running down the path with the dragon in close pursuit. I stumble and fall. Now he’s got me for sure. He’s rearing back his head, ready to bathe me in a torrent of flame. But wait, he hears something. Say, I hear it too. Ten knights rush into sight. They all carry spears or lances and big shields. Plus, they have swords strapped to their waists. They launch their weapons at the dragon and quickly draw their swords. They are dismounting! They move and cut the dragon on one velvety wing, then on its right leg. The knights are all working as a marvelous team, as though one body. The beast twists around and blows flame every which way. The knights are ducking behind their shields as I quickly cower behind a rock. The beast is making one last sweep with its claw then it’s flying away! Back to its terrible abode.

One of the knights walked up to me and removed his helmet. He then said “Welcome back to the path of peace. The Master is overjoyed.”

“But I am just one man,” I stated “How could He be so glad that I have come back? Surely He already has many people in His kingdom.”

“Ah,” said the knight “The Master cares not for the quantity of souls in His kingdom. He cares for each as an individual. It is not the number that matters, rather the sincerity.”

“He must be a truly wonderful king.” I said.

“Aye, that He is.”

The knights all mounted their horses and rode off into the distance.

I stood in the middle of the path for a short while, bewildered.

Nearly an hour later I found myself before the valley with the sign that read The Valley of Humility. I slowly climbed down the crooked path leading to the valley of humility. Off to the left of me I could see a cave out of which came the sound of terrible, haughty laughter.

Out of this cave came a man who was everything I wanted to be, handsome, strong, successful, carefree. He had a cocky smile and it was clear that he had spared no expense on his clothing. He didn’t seem to notice me, or really, anything else, only himself.
“Hello,” I said “Who might you be?”

“Oh dear,” the man said “I am sorry. I guess I just didn’t see you there. My name, of course is Paul, you should know that sir, for I am you.”

‘But how can this be?” I asked “I don’t have money or nice clothes as you do.”

“Well” Paul said “You’re not exactly me “The only difference is the paths we travel. You see, I travel the easy path over there,” he said pointing “But you travel this difficult path. You will be just like me if you travel on the other path.”

“But sir, I have been on that path and I was almost eaten by a dragon!”

“Aye, there is a dragon over there friend.” Paul said “He really is very nice. If there is one thing though that he can’t stand is ingratitude.”

“Sorry sir,” I said “but I shall stay on this path, for the one who made it saved my life.”

“Don’t apologize to me,” Paul said “You are the one who is missing out.”

It took all my will to press on from that dark place but I did. As I arose from the brink of The Valley of Humility I could see ahead of me, only a mile or so, The Righteous Man and His kingdom.

I ran down the path because it was now straight and level. 20 feet or so from the gate of the beautiful kingdom the path turned to solid gold. I threw myself down at the feet of the one with snow white hair. But he laid a loving hand on my shoulder and said “rise”.

I stood and looked Him in His fiery eyes and He said “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

I burst into tears at His words. The times I had doubted, the times I had turned aside and yet He told me “well done” and “good and faithful”.

I entered the radiant kingdom and found my friend, he greeted me with tears and together we explored heaven.

5 Days ’til Haiti

We are finally getting lots of solid information on where we’ll be staying, the work we’ll be doing and what we should take for the Haitian people.  Rachel and I plan to go shopping tomorrow to buy for our VBS supplies and donations to the ministry as well as to pick up any odds and ends we still need to take with us.  We plan to dedicate at least one of our checked bags to donations.  Ideally, it would be nice to donate the contents of both checked bags–as well as the bags themselves–to the Haitians, which would leave us without any checked luggage on the return trip.  Seems like a win/win to me.

Contrary to earlier information, we will be staying in Petion-Ville, Haiti while we are there. It’s a suburb of Port-au-Prince, and it looks like it’s up in the mountains a bit. This may mean cooler nights, which will be a relief. We will be working with an orphanage, which I know will change us forever. We were told that 1 in 15 Haitian children are enslaved. Very few have active fathers in the home, and many are sold–knowingly or unknowingly–into some form or other of slavery. Heartbreaking. Lord, help us to show these little ones Your hope.

I called the airline yesterday to talk to an actual real person about what we could and could not do.  Things have changed a lot since the last time I flew, which was when Rachel was six months old.  Apparently, even sealed bottled water could be a national security threat, so we will need to buy water at the airport if we want anything to drink on the plane.  I’m sure that works well for them.  The other shocker was that the airline recommends that we arrive 2 1/2 hours before departure.  Our flight is scheduled to leave at 6:21 a.m on Sunday.  While Rachel and I are fairly certain that we’ll be too excited to sleep Saturday night, I’m pretty sure that Dave would have no trouble getting a full night’s rest.  Instead, he will be taking his favorite wife and oldest daughter to the airport in the middle of the night.  Poor guy.  If he snores through church on Sunday, please give the man some grace.

While researching our malaria-prevention options, again and again I have been advised that the single best malaria preventative is to not get bitten by a mosquito.

Huh.  Go figure.

Suggestions for mosquito-bite-avoidance include consuming lots of citrus fruits (especially grapefruit, limes and lemons), eating garlic, dosages of cinnamon, slathering on the insect repellant and wearing long sleeves/skirts/slacks when bearable.  I personally will be doing all of the above.  I was told there was no need to take mosquito nets, but now I’m second-guessing that and wondering if perhaps I should.  I figure that if I’m going to buy them, today would be the day to do it.

One of my goals this week is to can, pickle or freeze something every day in order to leave our basement fridge empty for newly-picked produce next week.  This is not an unusual goal for this season, but it seems more of an undertaking this year due to our trip preparations and the push to get the kids’ school planning well underway.  I must confess that I feel a significant relief in only have two students in my classroom this year!  I have been so focused on kind of grieving Rachel’s graduation/move to adulthood that I am thrilled to find a lovely silver lining!

I have also decided that it would be smart for me to take our next child for her first cross-cultural missions experience before she graduates.  This way we can include certain aspects of her trip on her high school transcript.   Why didn’t I think of that the first time?!  Live and learn, I guess.

As I continue to prepare for this trip, Lord, help me to keep things in perspective.  Any of the concerns I have today are the concerns of a person living in luxury.  Help me to fix my eyes on You and to empty myself of the self-centeredness that tends to take the form of worry.  You have gone before us, and You will follow behind.  I trust You.