December Photo Project: Day 20

We have met some of the most amazing people since moving to Milledgeville.  One of those people is the kids' bike coach.  He organized for his office to bless the kids this year.  So amazing.  I'm completely blown away by their generosity.  God has given us grace upon grace.  

We opened all our gifts tonight.  So fun!

December Photo Project: Days 11 & 12

I was crazy busy all day yesterday, so this truckload of pictures from the dress rehearsal of the Nutcracker will have to suffice for two days.  We are looking forward to enjoying the performance of the Nutcracker tonight! 

A Sacrifice of Thankfulness

We're six months in and things really aren't better yet.  I haven't written much on here because I don't have much new to say.  It still hurts.  It still is hard.  In fact, I would go so far as to say that in some respects it's even harder than 6 months ago simply because nothing has changed like I hoped that it would and I'm being forced to settle in for the long haul.  My new life still feels impossible.  And tears still fall most days.

Today is a day of thanksgiving.  I have so many memories of thanksgivings past that are full of joy and happiness, fellowship and family, love and tender closeness to my dearest ones.  The enemy has shown me, again and again, today how much I have lost.  He has repeatedly whispered in my ear how justified I would be to not participate in this holiday.  And I surely have seen how much my heart wants to say a big huge, "no thank you" to what God's sovereignty has brought.

Sacrifices are painful.  They are costly.  Life would be so much easier without them.   Perhaps the Israelite bringing his best lamb might have wondered some years, is this really necessary?  Does it really help?

Isn't it a wonder that after mentioning pain and loss, the Psalmist puts on a face of determination and says, "I will offer to you the sacrifice of thanksgiving and call on the name of the Lord." (Psalm 116:17)  Here is the truth that was shining at me today: sometimes life hurts so much that thanksgiving becomes a sacrifice and we have to choose to make it.  It can be painful to wake up in the midst of sorrow and say thank you.  It would be much easier to not.  One might wonder as the holiday marks a painful year like this one: is this really necessary? Does it really help?

Thanksgiving has a way of forcing our eyes to see Jesus.  Like the prayer of St. Patrick who cries, "Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me, Christ on my right, Christ on my left, Christ when I lie down, Christ when I arise..." Thanksgiving forces us to look above, beneath, on our right, on our left, throughout the day and see Christ working on our behalf.  This thanksgiving sacrifice works for our good as it draws our eyes out of our pit and back to our Savior who is working all around us for our good.  Surely this kind of calling out to the Lord will open our hearts to an eternal joy even when there is very little earthly happiness. So yes, it is necessary and it does help.

So by God's grace, we made our green bean casserole, drank our Uganda coffee, carved our turkey, fashioned our pies, sang our hymns and went around the circle giving thanks like we always have.  And you know what?  My heart was soothed a bit.  God's grace has once again brought me to the end of what could have been a very hard day and I can see that he hemmed me in and held me tightly through it.  Thank you, Lord.  You truly are a gracious God.

Firm in the Faith

This morning in church we sang the classic hymn "Nothing but the Blood of Jesus."

I haven't had much emotional energy to grieve leaving Uganda still.  But this morning my heart hurt with homesickness.  There is nothing like the voices of 300 plus children in Kikamba belting out the words to this great hymn.  They didn't always know all the words to the first half of the lines, but they would loudly echo "nothing but the blood of Jesus!" with a bold confidence that Americans...as we say in the south: bless their hearts...just can't do.  Oh, how I miss those little ones and their Sunday morning singing!

My pain was soothed slightly by the truth of the last verse:

Now by this, I'll overcome, nothing but the blood of Jesus.
Now by this, I'll reach my home, nothing but the blood of Jesus.

That's just it, isn't it?  How does one overcome such homesickness when you're living in a place that is supposed to be home, but it's not, and you're missing a country that was home despite the fact that it wasn't your own home culture?  Only through resting in all the promises of what Christ has given us through his blood poured out on the cross.

How do you walk through unspeakable pain?  Only through the promises of Christ.
How do you find feet to walk again in a new place and a new life?  Only through the promises of Christ.
How do you survive hurt and betrayal? Only through the promises of Christ.

We've been reading Isaiah at the dinner table.  The great warning of chapter 7 verse 9 pierced my heart as we read, "If you are not firm in faith, you will not be firm at all."

There is so much that is shifting sand these days.  My life is not settled.  I have no idea what this next year will look like.  I don't know if God will choose to bring happier days or more trials yet.  Anxiety tries so hard to be a constant companion of mine. 

Life has fallen apart to such an extent that I have been forced to learn that there is only one sure thing: Jesus died for me.  It's a small, four-word statement, with a larger-than-life reality.

 This one thing that remains makes me God's precious, beloved child and so it opens the door to all of God's promises for his children. Promises like in Psalm 71 where the psalmist tells me that God will revive me again, he will bring me up again and he will comfort me again.  Or Psalm 27, where the Psalmist says that we will look upon the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living.

People have told me that I've been so strong in this trial. But I so much want everyone to know that it's not me that's been strong.  I feel the very opposite of that. I feel crushed, hurt and am often a hot mess of tears.  Any strength that might be seen is simply the strength of God that has kept my faith firm.  It is God who has made me know and remain sure that Christ died for me.  And through that, he has opened so many doors of hope: a hope that the sun will shine again one day, a hope that God will show me his goodness, a hope that God will use this pain for my good,

a hope that will overcome, a hope that will lead me home... not to Milledgeville or Uganda, but one day to my real home, where there will be no more tears and heartache.

Seven Years and Now this Call

Today marks 7 years since we first moved to Uganda.  Our "Ugandaversary" has always been a point of celebration, even if only in my heart, simply because every year marked God's faithfulness to us in what was sometimes a difficult post that the Lord had called us to. 

This past Sunday in church we sang the Kristin Getty song "What Grace is Mine?"  The chorus sings,

"So I will go where ever He is calling me.  
I lose my life to find my life in Him  
I give my all to gain the hope that never dies; 
I bow my heart, take up my cross and follow Him." 

Seven years ago, I would have sung this with gusto.  The missional thought of going where ever He called me, stirred in me a sense of purpose and joy as Eric and I boarded the plane with 8 small children in tow.  I was willing to lose my life, to give my all and to take up my cross as I served him in Uganda.

Last Sunday I sat in church in America, with 9 growing children in tow and our home in Uganda so very far away.  Our dream of serving Christ there for many years to come has died a painful, horrible death and the tears flow every day still.  The first time we sang the chorus through, this glorious missional song felt like sandpaper on the open wounds of my heart.

Then the Holy Spirit, the Great Helper, began to prod...

"Am I not the one that has sent you to this new place?"
     "But God, we don't want to be here and not like this!"

"But will you still go where ever I call you? Just like you did 7 years ago?"
     "But God, Uganda seemed to have a purpose, but here all I see is how we failed."

"Will you lose your life in this place because you want to find it in me?"
     "Lord, I was willing to give up so many comforts in Uganda...water, power, safety... but I don't want to lose my life in this way and in this place, it's too much Lord!"

"Are you willing to take up your cross and follow me?"
     "In this place and way, Lord? I don't see anything beautiful about it."
   

But deeper still The Great Helper searched me and tried me, "Well, actually God, if it is you that is doing the calling, then I am willing...a thousand times my answer will be yes...if only you will give me more of yourself.  If you really will fill me with more of you, I'll follow you here.  If I really will find myself in You, I'll lose my life in this painful way.  Lord, I went to Uganda in obedience to your call.  I will now come back from Uganda in obedience to your call.  If you want me here, then in truth, I don't want to be anywhere else.  Lord, it is a big, heavy, rough, burdensome cross that I never in million years wanted to carry.  I don't like how it feels. I wish it would be taken away.  But I'll do it for you."

"God, I believe.  But please, Lord, I beg you... help my unbelief."

Blessings!

God has blessed us in so many ways this past month!

The biggest gift we were so thankful to receive is our van.  For our first few weeks in the US, all we had was a minivan.  So anywhere we all wanted to go required two trips.  haha...it was quite a juggling feat!  An anonymous donor gifted us a 12 passenger van, that has a nice cargo space in back.  Redeemer OPC in Atlanta did all the leg work to find it and purchase it.  My dad and I went and picked it up last week. Whoever you are, thank you so so much...many tears of joy were spilled when I heard about this gift.

Another great blessing was getting a new puppy.  We had so much loss when we flew back from Uganda, including all our animals...dogs, cat, rabbits, chickens, Guinea fowl, and ducks.  This sweet one, who we named Louisa May, has been a soothing balm to our hearts.  She's a St. Dane...half St Benard and half Great Dane.  She's still a puppy, but oh so sweet.  She comes running with me in the morning and is pretty spoiled the rest of the day.  

 We also were treated to a day at a waterpark.  We had a great time! 

Timothy is now in Oregon for the summer/fall working at an organic dairy farm.  Before he left, he managed to finish his 40 hours of driving time and get his full permit.

The Lord blessed us with a few weeks for the chaos of our move to settle down and then he blessed us with a week of Vacation Bible School at our new church.  This, of course, is a very new experience...my kids were the ones who kept running barefoot and complaining about the air conditioning being too cold. haha!  The kids had a blast though...the three littles as participants and the older ones as helpers.  On the last evening, they had a feast for the kids.  They dressed up like royalty and had a grand time.  The greatest blessing of the week was that it gave my kids a chance to make some new friends.