Paintings

      As I lay here sleepless next to my sleeping (read: snoring) husband, perusing Facebook and all its social media compatriots, I'm reminded of how small of a window we get into other people's lives. The picture we receive is small and incomplete, so we often take it upon ourselves to fill in the unseen parts and make assumptions of people that are only partially true. We see what others allow us to see, some more than others.
    I'm no different. I only share small glimpses into my life, the fun or the funny, the life lessons I've learned (kinda like now, right?), the cute, the silly, sometimes serious, but hardly ever do I share my raw moments. My bumbling, struggling, barely keeping my head above water moments stay safely tucked away for my family to suffer through or even just for my heart and mind to battle out while begging the Lord to carry me through. And I only rarely share those moments, if ever, because I fear snap judgements, criticism, or even worse someone choosing to end a friendship right then and there because the picture they've painted in their minds of me has now been entirely colored by my moments of weakness, faltering, and perhaps sin.
 
   Reading through my Facebook feeds and news articles and blog upon blog upon blog of opinions and armchair activists only confirms for me that we all too often respond without knowledge of entire situations. Our knees jerk with lightning speed to rally support for some worthy, or at least personal, cause and urge people to join our chorus of whatever chant we've taken up for the moment. At least we want enough people to agree with us so we feel confirmation of "rightness" and "justified". Sometimes it truly is a noble cause or at least seemingly worthy, but again, is being swept up in a wave of emotions in our heart from mere snapshots on the screen wise?
      I'm reminded of Kony2012 and how so many folks, me included, were quick to jump on this intensely emotional bandwagon that was not just from one news article, but from a WHOLE 30 MINUTE VIDEO!! Wow!!! We were SO informed!!! We were so wise and charitable and noble because our hearts hurt for what seemed like such a true and worthy cause! It went viral, as these things tend to do, and became huge! Celebrities began endorsing it, even, so we KNEW it must be true, right? RIGHT?! ...right... And come to find out, it was only just what it always is: half truths beefed up, hyped up, dramatized, and shamelessly painted in order to create the very stir it caused and garner sympathy and money for its creator(s). Sad to say, the wool was pulled over many eyes and once the harsh reality came to light about its creator, the painful truth of the very real plight of very real people suffering inhumanity was drowned out by the jaded voices of those angry about being duped and investing emotions and wasting their half an hour and possibly money on charms and trinkets made to stroke their pride and feel oh so charitable and good.

    Such is the life we lead today, so wired and online, but still completely in the dark about truth and everyday life. Instead of investing in real relationships with those around us, truly getting to know people and asking deeper questions and opening ourselves up to the same, we hunker down over our phones, we lounge with our laptops, and we continue to pretend our lives are THIS good, THIS bad, THIS mixed up, THIS sexy, THIS spiritual, or THIS concerned about causes here and there.
    And as I type this on my phone at 4:30 on Thanksgiving morning, it's so easy to call people out for the very things I'm horribly guilty of: making you believe a picture of me that isn't a complete painting. I have a lot (A LOT) of ugly colors that exist in my everyday life, most of my own making. However, I don't want to make believe or pretend for the sake of fear. It will always be impossible for me to paint an absolutely clear picture 100% of the time mostly because the colors keep changing, but believe when I say I'd like to invite you to seek out the missing pieces. Ask the tough questions, be willing to patiently and lovingly receive the answers, and open yourself up to the same. Be a careful, gracious, understanding person, and allow others to be the same for you. Be purposeful and genuine. I want to be that as well. Maybe if each of us puts even just a little bit more effort in being personal and being in person, we can create a better, bigger, more realistic picture of our lives TOGETHER. That would be a much nicer painting to look at and live, don't you think?


(Also, Happy Thanksgiving, friends. May your conversations be rich, organic, honest, and slathered in generous portions of love!)

Clear pictures in a clouded window Pt. 1

Our adventure finally took a deep breath this week, so I had a moment to write:

     The last year has been so clouded with unknowns and yet we've had to perpetually push forward. It was like driving with a destination in mind, but without a map, without a GPS, and the windshield was smeared. But if you didn't drive, you'd crash. Almost like living the movie Speed, metaphorically, but without Keanu Reeves' bad acting or a bomb. Or a bus. Ok, maybe not like Speed at all, but we have had to keep moving forward even when there'd been no indication where we needed to go. 

Let me backtrack a little: all our good intentions for the house we had been renting came crashing down once we knew we couldn't purchase the home and land and still be able to afford the many updates and upgrades to the home to truly make it comfortable for our family of seven. The panicked scramble to get the house on the market and sold sent us spiraling into a frenzy of packing and moving when we didn't even have a home to move into. The stress and frustration and uncertainty of where we were going to go, where our belongings were going to be, how we were going to be able to arrange our lives temporarily were all-consuming and hard to swallow. And yet, God is good. He cares about us and cares for our children's well-being even more than we do, so trusting Him was not only important, it was critical. 

    The mad dash to be moved was now replaced with the surreal feeling of limbo, trying to keep life going while we lived temporarily. The amount of commuting, small spaces we lived in, time sharing, meal sharing, and life sharing that we did these last five months were hard. Very very hard. And yet so beautiful, so life-affirming, so deep in building relationships and character, that I truly see God's design. Would I have chosen to live partly in a camper and partly in my inlaw's house an hour away from school, church, or Luke's work? Nope. But would I trade the love my kids developed for their grandparents, the friendship that grew with my inlaws, or the gratitude for God's provision we learned in the time of partial homelessness? Absolutely not. 

    While living at my inlaws, we waited for the right house for our family. We thought we had found it in a beautiful, 100 year old home in the heart of downtown Salem. The neighbors were friends of ours, the house had the spaces we were praying for, the shop Luke was needing, and the timing seemed perfect. We made plans, we paid for all preliminary necessities, we fell in love with the idea of this house. But God knew. He knew it wouldn't have been the best for us. He knew it wouldn't be the best layout and living situation for our family. And even in the devastation of losing a house we thought we were going to love, He worked through unsuspecting loved ones and endeared them to us even more as well as bringing a deeper dependency on His guidance and will. It was a painful blow to be dealt, but the best was yet to come! 

(Continued in Pt. 2)

Sunshine, lollipops, and rainbows

       We have been living at my inlaw's house in Newberg for two weeks as of today. The kids have had two weeks of adjustment, sleeping in different beds (or in some cases, a "floor bed"), and Luke and I have had two weeks of practice now of dual-building living. We sleep, dress, and occasionally make coffee in the trailer, and everything else is at the house. It's been a big learning curve, but it's been successful so far. My poor inlaws have had to make some pretty big adjustments as well, but it feels as though we have cohesion and communication, which is really the only way to survive a situation as different as ours.
      This has also been the first week of commuting the boys to school, which has also been interesting, but doable. They've managed so well with the rides out there and back, and we've been blessed with some beautiful weather which I'm sure has been a big boost in moods all around! Julian has had some good days and bad, but we've already had some good conversation and I feel as though he and I are connecting in a way that we haven't in a very long time. I feels as though my patience has been strengthened and my willingness to listen has grown.
          I recently began taking a certain brand of supplements that both Luke and I are enjoying, so I definitely feel that prayer, paired with these supplements, have helped with our energy and my temper, so I'm really grateful for that. At least I know it's been helpful with my lack of sleep due to Lillea's incessant need to nurse all night long as she adjusts to these huge changes, so if that's all that I benefit from taking them, it's worth it.
        Another huge benefit from living with the grandparents is these kids are really loving this saturation of time with grandparents that they haven't been able to spend much time with. It's a beautiful thing to see Sissy's face light up when her Grandpa comes home or the laughter on their Grandma's face when they inevitably say or do something that is just a part of who they are and who they are is hilarious!
        For me, personally, this has and will hopefully be a continuation of a wonderful relationship I have with my inlaws, especially my mother-in-law. This is the second time we've had to live with them for a while, but by far this is the best time I've had! I love my mother-in-law and I love the relationship we have. Her honesty and humor is a blessing to be around and our friendship is something I cherish!

       My prayer for the next few months here is to be a blessing to my family and not a burden, a time to build character, faith, relationships, and joy, and hopefully a time to rest and trust that God will lead us exactly where we are supposed to be.

YAY for the newness of Spring, the newness of life, and the newness of hope!!

So let the sunshine in! Face it with a grin!

Today as I drove through town in the beautiful sunshine, I was wishing I could just have an infinitesimal glimpse and understanding of God's plan for our family so perhaps it wouldn't be so darn hard to be still. All this wishing reminded me, though, that my job is to trust and have faith. Isn't that what faith is? The assurance of things hoped for and the conviction of things unseen? And I'm not talking about some wishy-washy hope of a prize, a present, or a fleeting trinket. Our assurance that Jesus is ours is my treasure, but a home to take care of my children is my current fleshly hope. Maybe it's the sunshine brightening my outlook and perspective today, maybe it's the countless hours I've thought, prayed, fret, and talked our friends' poor ears off about this, but I KNOW without a doubt we will be taken care of.
          The plan currently is to park my parents' camper at my in laws' property and have the boys sleep in a room in their house while Luke, the girls, and I sleep in the camper. Until we find a house and are ready to buy, that will be home, unless a miracle happens and a house metaphorically falls into our laps. Although this prospect of living in a camper/inlaws' house is hard to swallow, I know it will provide healthy perspective:


-We'll be forced to live minimalistic lives since all of our belongings will more than likely be in storage for the next few months.

-We'll be blessed with an opportunity to facilitate a stronger relationship with family since they'll have to put up with us for a while (which I'm really excited about, since I truly love my inlaws!!).

-We'll have plenty of opportunity for talks with the kids since I will continue to drive them to and from their school because taking them out and forcing them to go to a new school for the last two months of the year would be salt on an already open wound. Their lives are being upheaved so severely as it is, we want them to have some sense of normalcy and familiarity.

-I will have lots of opportunities to build better relationships with local friends since I won't want to be making two full trips daily to and from Silverton.

-We won't have the pressure of having a clock count down until we HAVE to be out as is the situation currently.

-We'll have some time being closer to old friends and family that we haven't lived near for the last two years.

-We'll still be able to attend the church we've been so blessed to call home since it will still only be a 30-35 minute drive away.

-We'll continue to grow in faith by trusting that the RIGHT house for us is out there and we will be led to it at the RIGHT time.

    God is good. He is worthy to be praised. Our life is to be led for His glory, whether it means living in a house, in a camper, in community, in a hut, or wherever else He calls us. This seemingly trying time is not persecution, not oppression, not destitution. We've never had to suffer through anything of that magnitude. This is an opportunity for growth, to strengthen our faith, and to testify to God's goodness.

...Now if only those little girls would help pack as opposed to the squealing chaos that normally happens when I pack! ;)

Sifted, picked clean, refined.

    This process of preparing to leave our home and trying unsuccessfully so far to find a new one has been...refining. That has definitely been the underlying current, sometimes subtle and sometimes not so subtle. As a family, we are being refined. As a couple, Luke and I are being refined. And as an individual, I am being stripped bare of any and all non-essentials, character flaws, and weakening elements through a fire burning so hot that I lose myself in it at times. We are being whittled, pressed, and refined. More than once I have been presented with the charge of letting go of the things I cling to in my desperation to hold onto what I think is important and in turn it has become my idol in a way. I have been on my knees in prayer, begging God to lead us to our new house, gasping for air at times between sobs and clinging to the idea that we HAVE to have a house in order to survive. Our family, our lives, our faith has depended on it so severely that I have lost sight of the only true thing in all of this: a house is not my salvation. A house is not my children's salvation. A house is not my husband's salvation or my marriage's salvation. A house cannot save us. Only Christ can save us. Only our Immanuel can redeem us. Only He is the truth that I need. He hasn't forsaken us, He hasn't left us without a shelter over our head, even when that shelter will most likely look like a camper parked at my inlaws house. He hasn't left us without food or clothing or beds. How blessed are we as a family that we will be together? He is the only thing that matters in all of this. I know I lost sight of that in my panic to be in the only place that seemed suitable in my mind. How blind I've been to think that four walls and a roof is our only relief or hope. No, our true relief, our true hope is in three nail scars, a pierced brow, and an empty tomb. I believe, Lord. Help my unbelief.

It's a musical life

     This journey is truly one of twists and turns, blind corners, surprise bumps, and more than a few hurdles. It has been a whirlwind of emotions with often times the experience of multiple emotions all at once. It sometimes feels like our heads are going to explode, turn inside out, and implode all at once; our hearts, too. With this twisting, churning, wrenching fog of uncertainties, though, there is always a beautiful song of peace singing. Sometimes it's a quiet, sweet note in the background, sometimes it's a loud, exuberant chorus at the forefront, sometimes it's a low, soothing lullaby calming ragged nerves in the storm, but it's always playing. A pure, holy melody of promise, hope, and peace that echoes, resonates, even times drowning out the fear that threatens to overwhelm our thoughts and tries to take control of our day. It sings to us in our sleep and in our awake hours. It calls to us when we feel lost or hopeless at times, bringing us back to the Composer's arms. It dissolves dungeon walls of anger, bitterness, feelings of injustice and despair, like the trumpets of the Israelites in Jericho. It whispers against our cheeks and hair like a mother's kiss, bringing sweet perfume of alabaster and tears. It binds the two flesh into one, calling on that Union to represent, serve, and carry on. It beats with the drums of a marching song, a battle cadence to do war and fight for truth. This great Song has been the soundtrack to our lives, but lately it has been the musical river that has swept us along God's mighty plan and kept us afloat while we wait for our home. I sometimes forget to listen, but as of late I'm learning to sing along.

Belly-button gazing does no good.

      It's wonderful what a clear head can do to perspective. To be brought back to solid, level ground after explosive, earth shaking moments of intense emotion almost feels like waking up from a chaotic, almost cubist style dream where nothing quite makes sense and you can almost, just almost make out a picture or a theme or a meaning. Good, solid rest can rejuvenate and clarify. A good, honest friend can do this as well. Mostly, however, it's been the Holy Spirit who has brought revelation, conviction, and restoration to my heart and mind.
      Truly, this whirlwind of activity and uncertainty has made me feel like an emotionally drunk person, stumbling around, talking to whoever will listen without discernment, wisdom, or caution. It begins to spiral out of control until it becomes this great, ugly, Picasso-inspired monster of my own fear-driven creation filled with assumption, desperate for resolution and answered questions, and hungry for attention. Others seem to make gentle allowance for my jumbled ramblings, my rankings, and my wild-eyed sputterings, all while they lovingly tolerate my selfishness and self-centered, albeit spiritual, diatribes.

      This morning was a morning of mourning. (See what I did there?). It was a time of mourning how much I've missed of my friends struggles, their life events, pouring into their souls, and providing a listening ear. It was a time of grieving for missed opportunities to bless those around me all because my hands and heart have been grasping for blessing without giving in turn or first. To be so consumed and focused on fear and personal feelings is to be empty, without compassion, and without the ability or effort to look beyond.
          How mightily, powerfully, and gently the Holy Spirit turns my eyes from inward to upward and then outward. And when He does this, suddenly eyes are opened and vision clears to see that there are others who are in need even greater than our own. Others who need the hands and feet of a Savior through the feeble hands and feet of His children. And others who have feelings, emotions, fears, and broken hearts that are just as valid, just as raw, and just as in need of the soothing balm of Holy friendship as my own.
      I don't write this to seek nods of approval, praise, or applause. I write this because I know where my heart has been and it's been ugly. I take these steps to release fear and cowardice and take on the mantle of confidence and contentment, trust and faith, mercy and openhandedness, and ask only for accountability and prayer.

My husband's heart and needs matter.
My children's hearts and needs matter.
My brothers and sisters, your hearts and needs matter.
And I want to be a vessel to be used for His glory by helping meet those needs.
Please share how I may help.