I’m often confused, and sad, and overwhelmingly grateful for what God’s done and taught us and brought us through. I am often joyful and content. I don’t know what will happen, and I find myself struggling to learn to live fully in the now, without drifting into what might be, or numbing my heart to the desire, hope, and loss I feel.

I’ve had a lot of conversations lately about the value of pain, loss, and sadness. I don’t think God wants hurt and heartbreak for us; I do think he is gracious to us and redeems those things. So I find myself trying to explain why it is better to hurt than to feel nothing, to risk vulnerability than to protect yourself with loneliness, to love and lose than never love at all.

For myself, I would rather miss my children, than have none. I would rather be hurt by those I love, than protect myself in a shell of isolation. I think I would rather love others and risk hurting them, than protect both of us from the shame, and pain, and brokenness of sin. That seems to be the current fear I’m battling, screwing up in loving others; we so profoundly affect one another.

I find myself thinking about poetry. I find myself writing a lot of poetry, and wondering whether I should share it. I’ve been taking a ceramics class this year, and it’s been such a good outlet for me, a way to process and express life, and God, and growth. I’m thankful for music, and books, and quiet moments. I’m thankful for beauty.

I’m thankful for brokenness, because it is there that we find the wholeness of Christ. I’m thankful for spiritual family, for mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, children, who take up residence in our hearts. I’m thankful for biological/adopted/married family, who are always present, no matter what, and for the great opportunity they bring for hurt, healing, beauty, and love.

I’m thankful for courageous students who brave the unknown waters of confession, openness, heartache, hope, and healing. They inspire me and make me so inexpressibly thankful to serve a God who sees fits to let me know and love them.

I’m thankful for a husband who stands beside me, lifts me up, writes me notes, kisses me in public, and always smells yummy. I’m thankful that I’m already dreading graduation, when I will say goodbye to the many seniors who have become dear to me. I’m thankful to live in a place and do a job that lets me deeply love people, even though I know I will have to let them go in a few short months or years.

In short, I’m a great big bundle of hope and grief, joy and sadness, rejoicing and longing, connection and hesitation.

I’d never heard this song until a few weeks ago. It’s been running through my head a lot lately. Give Me Jesus, by All Sons & Daughters

You can listen below

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  On my mind:

  All Sons & Daughters - “Give Me Jesus”

  
  

Hello Friends, Family, People Who Stumbled onto Our Blog while Google Searching,

Today is Sunday, the third day of our Christmas Break. I’m already wondering what to do with my time. I’ve grown unaccustomed to having free time. We’ve had one, maybe two, free weekends this semester. I’ve come home exhausted and emotionally spent nearly every day. We’ve coached volleyball (not me—ha!), subbed at dorms, attended school trips, had meetings, filmed stuff, had many a conversation, spoken in dorms, spoken in chapel, taught sex ed, made meals, served cider, and much, much more. We’re very tired, and very in need of this break.

Yet despite our exhaustion, I can only think of how very blessed I am. I am so very blessed.

God was gracious to us this semester—it was normal! There were no major life crises! We’ve been able to focus on our jobs without being weighed down with fresh grief, though there has been some less-than-fresh grief thrown in there.

My semester has been filled with God. God in me, God through me, God in other people. I’ve been daily amazed that I get to do what I do. I get to talk to girls all day—about boys, about home, about family, about heartache, about what it means to follow Jesus, about truth. This semester, I’ve been continually overwhelmed by the students I get to know and the conversations I get to have with them.

These students are amazing. They live all over the world. They speak multiple languages. They live between cultures. Their experiences have made them unique. They view the world through wide, open eyes. I love their uniqueness. I love their hearts more.

This has been a semester filled with serious issues. You name it, I’ve probably had a conversation about it—death, addiction, abuse, fear, loneliness, self-hatred. I’ve been privileged to be part of conversations about sin and suffering, brokenness and redemption, grief and healing. I’m honestly amazed that these girls talk to me (me!), that I get to speak into their lives, that they trust me. I’ve asked myself many times, why me? Why are you using me, God? Why are you blessing me with all of this goodness? Whatever the answers are to those questions, I’m grateful.

Two years ago, in this post, I said that I wanted to learn to love people better. In the past two years, God has taught me to love people better. Much of my learning has come through my own heartbreak, grief, brokenness and despair. Many of those lessons have also come through realizing what false love tends to look like in my life—a perverse desire to play Jesus to people, to save them myself rather than wanting him to do it. But I’ve also seen truer reflections of my Father’s love in my heart. I see greater hope and faith on other people’s behalf. I see greater patience. I see greater compassion. I see a greater willingness to put myself out there at the risk of being rejected or hurt. Praise God for his continued redemption!

I want to tell you all about these girls, who I love so very much. I want to tell you their stories and what God’s doing in their lives, but they’re not my stories to tell. I can’t tell you their stories without doing some serious permission-asking beforehand. Just know, dear friends, that these girls are precious. I get to weep and rejoice with them. I get to be frustrated when it seems like I’m pounding my head on a brick wall, and stand amazed when a kernel of truth takes root in their hearts. I get to share in their precious heartaches and stand witness to the slow, but steady, healing work of Jesus in those heartaches. I get to give coffee, and hugs, and makeovers, and conversation, and truth, and tears, and love. I get to know more about my Father’s love for me as I grow in love for these girls.

Jesus has been kind to me. I am utterly amazed. I wish I could sit down with you, a stack of photos, and a cup of coffee and tell you all about the girls I get to know and love. I wish you could meet them and share in the knowledge of their utter awesomeness, but until we’re on the other side of eternity, that probably won’t happen. So take my meager thanks instead.

Thank you, dear friends. Thank you for allowing us to be here. This has been the hardest, bestest place for us. This has been one of the most worthwhile things we’ve ever done. These kids are worth it. Jesus is at work here, in us, in these students, in the world. It feels inadequate every time I say this, but you really do allow us to be here. Your prayers, your giving, and your support are what keep us here. I feel overwhelmed with gratitude.

I really don’t care about Christmas gifts this year, and I think it’s because my heart is so full of precious gifts already. What more could I want?

Several of you have asked how the High School Retreat went. Unfortunately, we can only tell you what we’ve heard from others, because we didn’t go.

We had another miscarriage.

I don’t really know what to say….

We were seven weeks pregnant. I’d known I was pregnant pretty much since conception. I’d felt better about this pregnancy because I’d had morning sickness. I’d even looked at names, which I didn’t do last time. The one that kept running through my head was Beatrice, which means “bringer of joy.”

We’d just been to the doctor that Wednesday. We were hoping to see the heartbeat, but didn’t. She said we could have simply been a few days too early. That afternoon I started cramping and spotting. Israel’s parents also flew in that afternoon to lead worship at the retreat.

By Thursday morning, I was bleeding and cramping badly. I laid in bed for about an hour trying to decide whether to go to the retreat or stay home. I finally decided that, even if I did go, I’d be so distracted that I wouldn’t do any good. Israel’s parents spent the day with us and went to the retreat location in Switzerland on Friday.

From what I’ve heard, retreat was amazing. Students were challenged, ministered to, and encouraged. Fortunately, the co-leader of my small group was able to attend and be with our girls. Our small group grew in vulnerability and closeness, which I’m so excited about. My small group girls have just blossomed in the past few months. It’s amazing. I hate that I didn’t get to go to retreat. What awful timing.

Israel and I spent the weekend alone. It was different this time. I didn’t cry much; last time I couldn’t stop crying.

I value being present in whatever I’m experiencing—joy, grief, disappointment. I was present during our last miscarriage, but I’m not now. I think my lack of grief is a combination of our cautious attitudes toward the pregnancy, the circumstances of the weekend, and my fear of reliving last semester.

Last semester was probably the hardest of our lives. Not only did we experience a heartbreaking miscarriage, but I felt the repercussions of it for quite a while (which is why you’ve heard so little from me over the past few months). December was an awful month for me. I was depressed. Some days I didn’t think I could get out of bed. Some days I couldn’t stop crying. Israel didn’t know what to do. I just kept praying, “Jesus help me,” and trusting that he would bring me through my darkness.

I think that’s partly why I’m afraid to grieve, because I’m afraid of going back to that dark place. I know Israel is.

So, here we are, in the midst of another loss—confused, frustrated, numb, afraid.

I’m wondering if, in the future, I’ll be able to let myself fall in love with a child I might never meet. I’m confused about whether I’m a mother if my children never took a breath. I’m confused about what it means that, as everyone says, there must have been something seriously wrong with our babies for my body to end the pregnancies. I’m confused about what caused this—God, Satan, our broken world?

I don’t know how to grieve without being angry, or pointing a finger at God. And I don’t want to be angry, because that’s part of what he taught me last time—that he is good, that he is loving, that he loves my children. How do I grieve without accusing him, or doubting his wisdom, or hating him for a time?

I don’t know.

So, we’re here, weathering this storm, feeling tiny spasms of grief in the midst of our numbness.

We went to the doctor again a few days ago. She did an ultrasound and said that a small amount of tissue remains in my uterus. She took some blood in order to monitor my hormone levels. If my hormone levels haven’t gone down by next week, I’ll need to have surgery. Please pray that my body will take care of everything; I really don’t want to have surgery again.

“Gladden the soul of your servant, for to you, O Lord, do I lift up my soul.” Psalm 86:4

In case I haven’t told you lately, I love living in Germany.

It’s beautiful. I’ve never lived in a cleaner place. Every building has delightful flowers and gardens. I believe that over 25% of Germany is set aside as green space.

It’s simple. Every few days I walk three minutes to the grocery store to buy a couple (reusable) bags of groceries. We walk to school almost every day. I can buy a big bottle of mineral water for 19 cents. Doing official things (like bank transfers, car registrations, and even surgery) is so much less complicated than it is in the States.

It’s nostalgic. Every time I drive past a swath of forest, I’m reminded of looking at the same forest as a child. Today, I saw a booth of puppets and stared for several minutes while I remembered the puppets of my childhood. Last week, I played on a fantastic wood and rope play ground. It was so much more fun and imaginative than the plastic and metal contraptions that fill the States.

I’m not saying that I don’t love America. I’m just really glad to be living in Germany, even when I’m frustrated or scared or uncertain. This is most certainly where we are supposed to be.

Today was a wonderful affirmation of how much I love living in here.

Holzen is a town just a few kilometers from Kandern. This weekend was their annual craft market. We spent a few hours there today with our friend Alyssa, an art teacher at Black Forest Academy. We wandered among dozens of booths filled with pottery, artwork, handmade clothes, soap, and beautiful floral arrangements.

We also ate lots of yummy food, which is always my favorite part. As a late lunch, we enjoyed Flammkuchen, a thin-crusted onion and bacon pizza, which is baked in a wood-burning oven. We tried some pumpkin soup and shared a glass of fresh apple juice. And when I say fresh what I mean is that I took a drink and thought I was biting into an apple. Just outside the food stand was a long wagon filled with fresh apples. The apples were put into a press sort of thing, which trickled beautiful, cloudy juice into a trough. The Juice People (I can’t think of anything else to call them) would walk over to the trough, dip in a big pitcher, and then walk back to the table to fill individual glasses. I mean really, how wonderful is that? On our way out, we bought a loaf of bread (which I caught unintended, yummy whiffs of all the way home), three slices of pie, and a gorgeous bouquet of flowers.

What a fabulous way to spend a Saturday. Enjoy the photos of our lovely Germany.

Please read this entire post. Thanks.

I’m sharing this with you because you are important to us. I want you to know what is going on in my heart. I want you to share in our sorrow, so that you can one day rejoice with us too. I feel like I should ask something of you when you read this, but I don’t know what that would be. I’ve found great healing in being honest and vulnerable, perhaps this is a part of my healing, or yours.

Our History

Israel and I have wanted a baby for years. About a year and a half after we were married, we thought we were pregnant, or rather, everyone in my family thought we were pregnant. It wasn’t in our plan to get pregnant at the time, we were going to move to Seattle and go to grad school. But, the potential of being pregnant changed our plans. Why not start trying? Why not stay close to our families? Why not start early and be young grandparents?

On January 1, 2008, I took my last birth control pill. And we waited. And we waited. And we waited. The first year was difficult. Birth control had messed with my body quite a bit. We’d go for a month or two thinking we could be pregnant, but there was never a positive test. Once, I went four months without having a period. Eventually, with the help of some medicine, things went back to normal, but by that time, I had withdrawn. I’d hidden the part of me that cared whether we got pregnant, because I couldn’t hope for it anymore. And our families stopped asking, because the answer was always no.

Then we found out about Black Forest Academy, and suddenly it all made sense. If our plans had worked out, we would never be able to move to Germany quickly. If we’d had a baby and a house and had been in grad school, there was no way we’d be able to move so easily. At that point, my desire changed. I didn’t want to be pregnant yet; I wanted to be able to fully invest in BFA for a while. So, we went to Germany on July 16th.

The Blueberry

On Sunday, August 29th, I took a pregnancy test. It was positive. According to the way they count pregnancy, my first day of pregnancy was two days before we left, July 14th. We couldn’t believe it. How in the world could this be possible? We’d just finished the first week of school!

Before I took the test, I was angry that I might be pregnant. God knew that I didn’t want this now! He knew that I wouldn’t be able to fully invest while taking care of a baby! But by Monday afternoon, my heart was already gone, given to the tiny one growing inside me. We called it the Blueberry, because that’s how big it was when we found out. The Blueberry was due on April 20th, 2011. It was clear that this was God’s perfect timing. He wanted us in Germany and he wanted us to have a baby now.

A Sudden Goodbye

On Friday, September 10th, I found blood. I was at school at the time. I sat in my office for two hours, wrapped in blanket, quickly wiping my tears away in case someone walked in. Eventually, my dear friend did come in, and I felt brave enough to walk home with her. I was just entering my ninth week.

The weekend was horribly confusing. We were told by a doctor who is on staff at BFA that there was a 50/50 chance of miscarrying. I cramped and spotted on and off from Friday morning until Sunday evening. I couldn’t go to a doctor for an ultrasound because they were closed until Tuesday. On Monday, I was sure I was miscarrying. On Tuesday, the doctor confirmed it. There on the screen was the little Blueberry, but no heartbeat. On Wednesday morning, we went to the hospital for a D&C.

In the Valley

I don’t know that I’ve ever cried so much in one week. I know that I’ve never wept like I did on Friday evening, when I found more blood. After finding it, I sat down next to Israel and began to sob—deep, uncontrollable sobs. Israel had never stopped wanting a baby. He was excited from the moment that little purple line showed up, and I felt like I was taking that from him. I felt guilty and ashamed and embarrassed.

I don’t really know how to process this. I don’t know what the point of this is, or what God is doing.

I was already learning so much! In June, God started working on the most wounded places of my heart, places that I thought he’d already healed, but that were still bleeding. So he’s been teaching me that he is good, that he is my loving Father, that he cares about me, that he knows me, that he loves me. I know all of these things about God, but I don’t believe them. What I believe is that God only does things in my life so that he will get glory and so that I will learn the lessons that I fail to teach myself. I think he does these things with no real regard or care for me. I believe that God doesn’t really know me. I believe that God doesn’t really love me, or comfort me, or sit with me when I cry. But he’s been gently removing the layers of protection I’ve build around my wounds, so that he can heal them. I knew that the Blueberry was part of that healing.

And then the Blueberry left, and I found myself bewildered. I don’t understand what this means about who God is. I don’t know how to believe that God is loving in this. I don’t know how to believe that he cares about me or the Blueberry. Why would he let us get pregnant immediately after getting to Germany and then take it away only two weeks after we found out? We told our families we were pregnant on Sunday, September 5th; we told them about the miscarriage only one week later. What is the purpose in that? It just seems like cruelty.

But I’m trying to hold on to what I hope is true. God is love. God is good. God cares for me. He cares for the Blueberry. He is holding the Blueberry while we cannot. He did not cause this, but will bring good from it. He loves me in this, and holds me while I cry. He hurts when I hurt.

This has brought me to the edge of myself. I wrote this in an email to a friend, “Maybe that’s why he did it now, because he knew this would bring me to the brink of myself, where I have nothing left and am totally shattered. I feel so needy; I don’t like it. I have nothing.”

I am heartbroken. I am confused. I am shattered. I am empty. I don’t know if I’m angry, perhaps I feel forsaken. But I’m believing that God is present and is big enough to hold this weight of sorrow. I’m clinging to the hope that He will save me from these waters, which have come up to my neck. And when he does, I will let him hold me, and I will rest in him, and I will call him my Papa. Because he loves me even more than I loved the Blueberry, who I had yet to even meet.

The day before my surgery, I asked God to give me a sunrise. God gives thunder to one of my friends as a sign of his love for her. I’ve been trying to believe that He would do that for me to. So I asked him for a sunrise, because I’ve always loved them. I stared at the sky the whole way to the hospital; it was a normal sky—blue with white clouds. I had just decided that he wouldn’t give me one, but we rounded a corner, and there it was. Pink marble resting on the hills of the Black Forest.

That morning, I wrote Psalm 32:7 on a note card and kept it in my pocket. “You are a hiding place for me; you preserve me from trouble; you surround me with shouts of deliverance.” Though I may not be able to hear it yet, he is shouting deliverance around me. He is roaring at the darkness and scattering it. Soon I will be able to hear my Papa coming for me.

Since we began this journey 12 months ago, I’ve run the gamut of emotions. I’ve recounted my emotional journey many times since August, so feel free look back if you’ve forgotten. I think I’ve done a pretty good job of documenting our lives (and especially my emotional life), but I haven’t done a very good job of sharing what’s been the driving force behind this drastic life-change, and what has been on my mind every day of these last 12 months.

On July 24th of last year, I received an email from my friend Pam, inviting us to join her at Black Forest Academy for a week. I had never heard of Black Forest Academy and, being the researcher that I am, found the website. I spent the next four or five hours sitting on my bed, devouring every piece of information I could find about BFA. I’m pretty sure that by the time Israel got home later that evening, I’d even blog-stalked several staff people. Basically, I fell in love with BFA from the moment I visited their website. What kept me arrested and what captured my heart wasn’t the excitement, or the opportunity to travel back to Germany, or the even the possibility of doing something fulfilling (though those were all appealing), what made my heart leap was the students. Black Forest Academy is a boarding school for missionary kids. 90% of the 350 students are the children of missionaries.

While at Orientation a few weeks ago, I heard the story of my new friend Anne, and have been reflecting on it ever since. Anne attended BFA as a boarding student for three years during high school. Here’s the short version of her story. One night, she asked her RA why God had taken her away from her home and family to come live with a bunch of MKs. Her RA said, “Because He loves you Anne,” and that statement changed Anne’s life. This story gave voice to the burning passion and hope of my heart—that Jesus would use my life to say to BFA’s students, I love you.

I haven’t shared this in the blog, but in September, I was assigned a small group of seven sophomore girls. Their small group leader was leaving, and, since we thought we would be arriving soon, I was to take over. Since September, I’ve been able to get to know these young women through Facebook, and I love them. Even though I’ve never met them, and have no idea if I’ll understand their stories, or even if I’ll ever lead their small group, they’ve taken up residence in my heart. God placed these girls in my life so that he could increase my love for the students of BFA. These students have sacrificed security, stability, a sense of home, and often aspects of their family, for a calling that wasn’t even theirs.

Israel and I are being sent to be Jesus to these kids, who, though they know many facts about Jesus, might not believe that he delights in them. We’ve been given a great opportunity. We have the privilege of loving the children of people who have taken up a mighty calling. We have the joy of loving students who Jesus deeply cares for, students who have spent their lives telling others about the love of Jesus, but perhaps have never believed it themselves.

I’m doing a poor job of expressing the deep conviction that has grown in my heart, but I think what I want you to know is that these kids are worth it. Just as much as any people group across the globe, they deserve to have someone go on their behalf, that they might know their Creator. Thank you for allowing us to go. Thank you for funding us and sending us out. Thank you for taking up this quest with us, for saying that these kids are important too. I am deeply honored.

Right now, I’m sitting in an armchair at my Mom’s home in Telephone, Texas. In a few days, we’ll say goodbye to them for the last time before we move to Germany. I want to treasure these last few days with them, but I find my mind wandering back to Minnesota.

We spent the last seven days with about 35 other new staff at our sending organization’s orientation. It was amazing. We met some amazing new people—MKs, teachers, staff folks. We learned some amazing things—about Christian Education, living in another country, Third Culture Kids. In short, it was a wonderful time.

Since I’m finding it hard to put my thoughts into words, I’m just going to hit some of the highlights of the week.

Hearing about the vision and mission of TeachBeyond

We have an amazing sending organization, TeachBeyond. We originally picked TeachBeyond because their application process was streamlined with Black Forest Academy’s. We didn’t know much more about their overarching purpose, but now we do. This organization is using education to change the world.

At our orientation, we had new staff members going to 10 different countries in Europe, Africa and Asia. A few years ago, TeachBeyond was sending staff only to BFA. We were also the largest group of new members ever. TeachBeyond is growing. They are using the need and opportunity of education to further the kingdom of God. If you’re a teacher or want to serve overseas, check out TeachBeyond. God is doing amazing things through this group.

Meeting our mission family

When we went to Orientation, I didn’t expect to find a new family, but that’s what happened. Every person there shared our passion for loving students and MKs. These are people who know what it’s like to sell all of their belongings and leave their lives of comfort for the sake of the Kingdom. People who know the humility, dependence and miracle of asking people to join you in a mission. People who have agreed to step into the unknown, for the sake of Christ. I expected to enjoy getting to know new people, but I didn’t expect to be sad to leave them. I was always excited about loving the students at BFA, but now I’m excited about loving the staff as well.

Not only did we get to meet all the other new missionaries, we were also able to meet the TeachBeyond staff who have supported us during the past year. We met Mike, the first person to contact us. We met the amazing women who handle all of our pledges and finances. We even met the President of the organization. It was a privilege to see these people. There’s no way we’d be going to Germany without them.

Being Encouraged and Affirmed in Our Purpose

More than anything else, this weekend was an encouragement. For the past year, I really didn’t plan to be at Orientation; I planned to be in Germany. Fortunately, God is much wiser than I. I’m so thankful we were at Orientation. Throughout the entire week, we were strengthened in our desire and purpose for BFA. We saw more clearly the need for our skills and passions. We were even able to talk with several MKs, two who attended BFA themselves, about their lives and experiences. We feel more prepared and purposed because of Orientation.

Meeting Anne

Anne is an MK from Central Asia. She spent 10 years living in another country and attended BFA for three years. While she was there, God used one of her RAs (Resident Assistants) to help her understand the depth of his love, which is why she’s going back to be an RA herself. I loved getting to know Anne. There have been two people in my life with whom I’ve had an instant connection. One of these people was Pam, who changed my world by introducing us to BFA. Anne makes a third. I was so encouraged by Anne. She is wise, and thoughtful and insightful. I am so excited that I’ll be able to spend the next two years loving MKs alongside her.

Hearing the Stories of our Fellow Staff

One of our favorite parts of Orientation was hearing the testimonies of other staff members. Each night, we would gather to share what Christ had done in our lives. It was amazing to see the work of God in the lives of these 40 or so people. It was wonderful to see the way that God drew each of us to himself and then gave us the opportunity to serve him overseas. I can’t wait to hear what God does over the next few years through us all.

Please pray for these people. I can promise you, they are all amazing, and God will use them each to accomplish his work. Pray for their support. One couple learned about a school opening only two days before Orientation started. They (along with many others) have got a lot of support to raise by August 1st. Pray for their transitions. Almost all of us are going to cultures that are unfamiliar to us and we will all face discouragement, confusion, and doubt. Pray that God would be glorified through our triumphs and failures, good days and bad days, certainty and confusion.

We’re Official

On Friday evening, we were commissioned by TeachBeyond. It was a short, simple service, the staff simply prayed for us, but it felt like the culmination of the last 12 months, and the beginning of a new and exciting adventure. We leave for Black Forest Academy in 18 days. I have no idea what the next few years will look like for us. I have no idea if we’ll be any good at our jobs, or like German culture, or want to stay, but I know that God has prepared us for this. We’re ready.

So I’m not sure if you are aware, but mine and Dani’s lives are changing. Our desires have changed. Our passions have changed. Our definition of love and truth have changed. Changed in a way that is better and more full. Full of wants and desires that pursue the seemingly unattainable – a life without failure, without a hurting world, without people in need.

Don’t get me wrong. We fail miserably at accomplishing this goal. Some would say we aren’t even going to make a difference in this life. That life is meaningless, and without merit or truth. I say those people have a sad definition of life. And I won’t be able to change their minds. So what can I do?

Well, I’ve decided it’s not my responsibility to change peoples minds. And since I can’t do that, I’ll just change the world. “Ha”, you say? Well that is pretty arrogant of me, but it’s what I wish could happen. In reality I can’t do that. I can’t—without other people. So yeah…I have to deal with the hard and tough. There is no easy life, no easy route. Easy isn’t an option anymore.

This is one of the things I’ve been struggling with. I’m called to change the world. I’m called to live radically. I’m called. But I’ve been struggling, hurting, frustrated and contemplating things I don’t understand. And I want to share some of what I’ve been trying to figure out. Openness and honesty are huge to me. So here is an excerpt from a journal entry.

April 24, 2010 – God what do you want from me?

God what do you want from me?
What would you have me do?
I don’t know what to do next
Is there something missing, something hindering you and me

I just want to be where I hear you calling me. And the stillness is deafening.

Open me up and help me to hear, help me to hear.
Take this yoke upon you. My next steps are hidden from me, please help me, help me to hear you leading me.

Lord what can I do to see?
Do I need to let go?
I thought I had let it all fall
Is there something missing, something hindering you and me

I just want to be where I hear you calling me. And the stillness is deafening.

Open me up and help me to hear, help me to hear.
Take this yoke upon you. My next steps are hidden from me, please help me, help me to hear you leading me.

Help Me To Hear

Written in the car while driving in Telephone, TX. Trying to figure out God and why I’m not hearing or seeing what the next step is. Or why we aren’t getting our support. Is my sin stopping us from going? Am I not doing enough? I just don’t know the next steps to take…

All my life I feel like I’ve struggled to figure out where I fit in, where I should go, and who I should be. From my earliest memories I remember struggling with realities of life. Like when I found out about slavery for the first time. I was devastated. I couldn’t focus the rest of the day. I just couldn’t believe people could do that to each other. Since then I feel like all I’ve been doing is building calluses to all the hurt and problems I’ve seen or learned about. And I don’t want any more calluses.

The Past Alters Perspectives

The next day after writing that journal entry I found out that someone wanted to give us about 30% of our monthly budget. What can I say to that? How do I mix such undeserved giving with such hurt and need? How do I keep from letting myself build calluses when things get tough and I don’t know what’s next? I don’t know the answer to that.

I do know that I’m sick and tired of my complacency. My inability to keep pursuing a life of complete giving of myself, without regard of the consequences or with need for any payment in return. I want to be able to love others without any presupposition or need for them to love me back. I want my life to be full of joy and peace so much that my first instinct is to help others.

My Hope and Prayer

I have been given the opportunity to make a difference in the lives of hundreds of children. To give them love and peace. I just pray and hope that it’s enough. I pray that their loves will be changed forever. That they will pursue truth and an unwavering love for other people. I know I won’t be 100% effective, nor will I be good at it. But that’s not an issue anymore. I don’t want any more calluses. I want to let myself go and be okay with hurt and pain so that others might be given peace and experience the love that I want to be able to share. My life and my heart are not my own, and so my pain and hurt are not my own.

I can’t wait to share my life with those in Germany. To help them conquer their lives and to love them unconditionally. I just hope that it doesn’t stop there. That I daily pursue a truth that revolves around hard people that cause hurt. I’m okay with that. I just want an opportunity to love them. No strings. Just unbridled giving of my life, my possessions, my time, my desires for the moment that they experience a greater love than I can give them. That is my hope and prayer.

On Sunday afternoon, I made a phone call that brought us from 53% of our monthly support to 80%. 80%! I was in total shock. And awe. I couldn’t believe it.

The family that brought us from 53 to 80% was one that we had met with in March. I was supposed to call them back in early April to update them about whether we were leaving, but I didn’t. My initial excuse was that we were busy at a family wedding. But then I felt bad that I hadn’t called, and I put it off. And then I felt even worse that I hadn’t called, and put it off again. And on and on the cycle went, until yesterday. If I had called when I was supposed to, we might have been gone by now.

In late March I posted on our blog about my sense of expectation that God was going to bring our support in. And what do you know, he had! I just hadn’t called to follow up. Anyway, my whole point in telling you these details isn’t to rue the past, but to tell you that God really did have it taken care of!

Since Sunday, we’ve even received 4% more of our support. So now we’re at 84%! This means we can actually leave for Germany!

We’re currently waiting to hear from Black Forest Academy about whether we should come now or wait until the summer. If we come now, we’ll probably arrive with just two or three weeks of school left. These are some of the busiest weeks of the year, for both students and staff. It probably won’t be a great time to try to transition, plus the staff won’t have much time to help us get settled. But, it would give us the opportunity to meet Tim and Sandee, the director and his wife, before they move this summer. Plus, we’d be there!

If we don’t head over immediately, we’ll be able to attend our TeachBeyond orientation in June. Then, we might head to Germany in July and have a month or so to adjust to life before school begins.

With whatever time we do have left in the States, we hope to raise the remaining 16% of our support. We plan to continue meeting with new people and following up with those we have yet to hear back from. It would be a huge blessing to head to Black Forest Academy fully funded!

We’re so excited! It doesn’t seem quite real that we’ll actually be going to Germany! Thank you for walking with us through this journey. You all have been faithful encouragers to us.

We serve a God who is good, faithful and generous, despite our faithlessness, doubt and sin.

We’ll keep you updated on our departure date!

Well, it’s been another month since our last blog post. The five sentence post previous to this one doesn’t count, obviously. Usually, not posting for a month means that nothing exciting has happened, which is kind of the case here. Not much has happened on the support side of things.

Because I know you’re all dying to know, I’ll give you a brief overview of what’s been going on for us in April. Ready?

April 1st happened.

We knew it would eventually—the looming, self-imposed deadline. When April rolled around, we found ourselves not at 100% or even 80% of our monthly support, but at 53%. Well, it’s better than 25%. Moving on.

Hannah got married. Israel’s lovely sister Hannah married her beloved Australian beau on April 3rd. A wonderful time was had by all. Also, 20 minutes before the wedding, I fell down half a flight of stairs. More on that in a later post.

The Bride

We moved. From November through March, we were living with the wonderful Luke and Ashley. Here’s a bit of info about these two. First, they are pregnant with their first child. In case you didn’t know, that’s a big deal. They found out they were pregnant a few weeks before we moved in, but still graciously opened up their home to us. Second, they bought and moved into their first home while we were living with them. Also a big deal. Third, they have two relatively new dogs. For some, this may not be a life-changing occurrence, but when one of your dogs is a separation-anxiety prone Weimaraner who like to use knives as chew toys, break dishes and eat 100 pieces of chocolate at a time, it can be rather stressful. So, in order for let Luke and Ashley to properly settle into their new home and prepare for their upcoming baby, we moved in with some other friends.

We are currently living with Josh and Margo in a town about 30 minutes south of Fayetteville. They live on a small farm, which is why you may have heard us mention snakes and missing kid goats. That’s all I’m going to tell you about the farm until we post more later.

Am I annoying anyone with my blatant withholding of information? I don’t want to ruin our upcoming posts!

When we moved in with Josh and Margo, they went to Hawaii for two weeks. After four months of living with another couple and seven months of traveling and sleeping on air mattresses in other people’s living rooms, we got to be alone. Oh glorious solitude. I do need my alone time and when I don’t get it, I tend to seclude myself in my room, which feels a little anti-social when all the other people in our house are chatting in the living room. Anyway, our two weeks of alone time also coincided with two weeks of disappointment and discouragement about not being in Germany yet.

Last week, we traveled to Texas again to visit some of my family that was in town. We spent about a week hanging out with the fam, playing games, eating too much and hold Addy, my cousin’s miracle baby. More on this in another post.

Addy and Her Momma

There you go. That’s what’s happened since April 1st.

Our monthly support hasn’t really budged at all, partly due to our lack of effort. It’s been hard to get back up and press on with our support raising. I had a rather profound and encouraging thought earlier today about support raising and God’s plan and such, but I can’t remember it now…. I’ll let you know if I do.

We’re still at 53% of our monthly amount, but we’ve seen a lot of one-time gifts come in this month, about $5,000 worth. This puts us over our required start-up money. We’re still waiting to hear back from two churches regarding monthly support. This Sunday we’re also heading back down to Texas to speak in the evening service at the First Baptist Church of Bonham. Pray that God softens the hearts of the congregation there so that they connect with us (this is not a church either of us have attended), see the importance of loving missionary kids and want to give! We’re hoping to find a few new monthly supporters here.

I think we’ve both had a hard time not giving up. We’ve gone through most of the people on our list of potential supporters and don’t feel very optimistic about proceeding. After working so hard for the last few months, it’s hard to believe that we’ll actually make it to the point where we can leave. The past couple days, I’ve found myself in the same mental state I was in a year ago, questioning whether God answers pray and is good. But, I’ve been reminded that God isn’t a formula. I can’t do A and B and expect God to answer with C. I know there’s a plan within all of this, and I can see the benefit of our months of support raising. God not answering my prayers in my timing doesn’t mean that he doesn’t love me or have good things for me. Sigh. Shouldn’t I be past these things already?

And just in case you’re wondering what in the world the blog header has to do this post, not much. Those oranges were in the juice the morning of Hannah’s wedding. I always feel pressure, from some unnamed person who shares my last name, to use an image in the header, and usually I have no idea what to put there. Hence the oranges.