Sacred Mundane: The Blog

Whew! What a day!  Today was a whirlwind of doctor’s appointment, hours spent at the Multnomah library finishing our project, a quick lunch at Taco Bell (this baby must love burritos), then the “in-town-marathon” that we do once a month when we’re in the big town–Winco for a month’s worth of food, Costco (which we skipped this time), Target for miscellaneous, and Macy’s this time for wedding and shower gifts.  It was exhausting, but worth it.  We came home satisfied that we were done!

But this morning was the part of the day that reminded me why this is all worth it.  We first sat down with the billing specialist at the doctor and face facts that this baby is going to cost a lot (please Lord a job with good health insurance?!).  But then we walked down the hall and in matter of moments, the little slimy doppler rubbed around on my belly and there he or she was…swimming around on the little screen, first waving his/her hands then kicking little feet.  Within moments it was over and we were back out the door with our little sheet of pictures…which only parents (and grandparents) can really appreciate (don’t worry, I won’t post them).

But that’s why.  That’s why it’s worth it.  I guess because I needed to be reminded (again!) that it’s not about me.  I’ve prayed often that God would use me to raise up little servants who would change the world for His glory…and even though it feels like there is no grand adventure going on right now, I’m trusting God’s using this for something.  That’s why it’s worth it.

I was also so blessed today by a phone call from a dear friend. This is what blessed me–she didn’t just say, “God knows. It’ll all work out!”  or “I know exactly how you feel” (which she could have).  She just listened, affirmed my feelings, validated how I am feeling by saying that she’d be falling apart right now if it were her.  Little things like that make life work, you know? Just a friend saying, “Yeah, that sure sucks. I’m here with you. Do you want to talk about it?”  Man it blessed me.  Thank you.

I guess it’s worth it because we’re being used for something bigger than us.  Because when we are weak, friends come along and strenghten us, because we get to see Christ in each other.  Because we realize that all my energy is being poured into a little body who is doubling in size week by week.  Because this little child will someday, by the grace of God, praise Him and testify of how great God is.  I guess that’s why it’s worth it.  At least that’s how I see it today. 🙂

I read this in my quiet time:

Have mercy on me, O God, for I am in trouble; my eye wastes away with grief, Yes, my soul and my body! … But as for me, I trust in You, O LORD; I say, “You are my God.”  My times are in Your hand.  Ps. 31:9,14-15

This past week I’ve just felt like, “Ok, enough. I’m tired of living at someone else’s house. I’m tired of not having a steady income. I’m tired of sharing my son. I’m tired of waiting. I’m tired of having no idea where our life is going. And I’m tired of people saying, ‘Oh it must be so special for you to get to have Dutch be with his grandparents all the time.'”  Yes, it is special.  Ok, but not so special that I don’t start to just want my own home!  You know?  That’s just how I feel.  Sorry. Griping here. But that’s what I was doing to God.  Saying, “Ok, God! It’s time!  It’s time now!  IT’s been 13 months…too long!  It’s time.”  And then I open His Word and there is this psalm, written thousands of years ago by David who had it way worse that me (he lived in a cave), and somehow articulated my heart.

I am frustrated. I am tired.  I am emotional.  The laundry’s not done, the bathroom is an absolute abomination (even Jeff said yesterday, “It’s really gross in here”, and everytime I open the microwave I want to throw up but don’t have the energy to get out the chisel and start to work.  My son still throws a fit when he wants a cookie, and I feel like all I do is discipline him, then he’s an absolute angel for my parents and smiles and says please.  I’m tired of breastfeeding, I’m tired of cooking, and the hope of a full-time job and a place to live seems to be getting dimmer.

BUT GOD.  That’s Jeff and my life phrase.  But God.  No matter what the above paragraph says, BUT GOD takes the train of thought on a complete 180 and turns it back to God.  But as for me, I trust in You, O LORD, even in the midst of grumpy frustration and waiting, I trust in You, O LORD.  My times are in Your hand.  He knows what’s going on. He knows I’m at the end of my patience and sweetness.  He knows I just cry to Him and say I can’t do it right now.  He knows my times. And my times, every thing and every stage and every season, is in His hands.  He knows when we will move out, and He knows what is best. And somehow He’s decided now is not the time.  So even though it feels like He’s taking a nap right now…I know He’s not.  He never sleeps nor slumbers, but is always working.  Jesus lives to make intercession for us, and He’s praying for me right now, praying I’ll not succomb to my weak and whiny self-centered self, but praying I’ll surrender (again!) to the loving care of God.  He holds my times.

Do you have something you feel like God perhaps forgot about?  Like, We’re trying to have a baby, God–don’t You care?  Or, Why haven’t you healed me, Lord?  Are you able?  Or perhaps, When will you move in this desperate situation, Father?  Are you real?  Whatever it is, I pray that we can somehow turn 180 and resolve, I trust in You, O Lord.  My times are in Your hand.  Remember this. He holds our times.

Last night, very late, Jeff stumbled into bed.  I peeked over at the clock to see what time it was: 2:30am.  I knew there was probably a good reason.  He slid under the covers and whispered, “It’s fixed.  New hard drive, all your documents, pics and programs back on it.”  What?!  I could hardly sleep I was so excited to come get my hands back on my poor little electronic friend, beaten within an inch of his life by some nasty TrojanHorse virus.  He’d been through a lot!  But my amazing husband, who loves me so much, devoted hours and hours and hours last night to taking an old harddrive out of one of his mom’s old laptops that we happened to have (thank you Janie!), and installed it in my laptop, wiping it clean basically and reinstalling everything, then putting back all my stuff on it.  What a miracle worker!

So this morning, I am on cloud nine.  I have my sweet little friend back, my tiny familiar keyboard, the freedom to write whenever a crazy hair-brained idea hits me.  I can communicate with friends, blog, play scrabble online with Cheyloe and Jeff, and finish this monster project that’s due Thursday!

So perhaps I sound a little crazy, but I realized last week just how much I love the freedom that my little laptop gives me.  It’s my way of thinking, communicating, interacting with people when I can’t always be there in person.  For all the woes of technology and progress….I’m sure thankful for my little electronic friend.  And I’m so thankful for my husband most of all, who labored for hours on end to see me reuninted with my beloved laptop.  Thank you, hon!

More to come now that I’m back online…

I suppose it’s really against all rules of good writing to give a post two titles.  Well, forget the rules. This post has two titles because I like them both.

This weekend was a little discouraging.  We had a great time visiting family, but we also got news that the two opportunities that we had been hoping for, banking on, figuring that at least one was a sure fit, were a closed door. Within a few days our plans of either/or turned to nothing/nothing.  The first disappointment was actually the one I’d hoped for most, but it didn’t really discourage me, because I guess I figured we still had door #2.  When door #2 closed, coupled with being pregnant, sick, and recovering from Friday’s migraine…well, you can picture it because you’ve probably been there yourself.  Tears.  It wasn’t that these are the only opportunities in the whole world, it’s just that it felt like a crowning disappointment on a year of disappointments.  I felt like we were “due” for some good news.  We’re due for a breakthrough, right?  I mean, we’re due!  Yeah, in God’s economy no one’s due.  We’re all sinners saved by grace and deserve nothing other than everlasting torment, but in His graciousness He saves and loves and bestows blessing on us as He sees fit.

So on our drive home, in a vague state of general defeated downness, we slid in a CD that my sister-in-law recently made me for my birthday.  Dutch was happy reading a book, and I was driving as to ward off nausea.  As I sang the words to this song by Misty Edwards, we rounded a bend and a huge (as if that word can even begin to describe the vastness) mountain appeared, crisp and white and jagged against the bright blue sky.  We sang, “See the way He holds the stars in His hands.  See the way He holds my heart.”  I was stunned envisioning God’s magnificent hands fashioning that very mountain, His gentle powerful touch.  His attention, His care, His omnipotence.  Could He not take care of us as well?  The hands that hold the stars are certainly capable of providing for my little family.  As that song ended, Casting Crown’s Praise You in the Storm began to play.  I knew the song, so immediately tears began to slowly roll down my cheeks as I sang the words with conviction:

I was sure by now,God, that You would have reached down
and wiped our tears away,
stepped in and saved the day.
But once again, I say amen
and it’s still raining
as the thunder rolls
I barely hear You whisper through the rain,
“I’m with you”
and as Your mercy falls
I raise my hands and praise
the God who gives and takes away.

Chorus:
And I’ll praise you in this storm
and I will lift my hands
for You are who You are
no matter where I am
and every tear I’ve cried
You hold in your hand
You never left my side
and though my heart is torn
I will praise You in this storm
—-

Then, with the mountain still in view, this verse played, the same passage I’d had in my heart all afternoon:

I lift my eyes onto the hills
where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth
I lift my eyes onto the hills
where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth

As the mountain sank out of sight behind us, I still felt tired, disappointed, unsure about the future, but I knew that if I clung to Jesus, truly clung closer and closer, I would feel myself in His hand, sense Him at my side, know the peace of His presence.  And that’s when I realized that biblical principles will never do.  They are fine and good, but when the world is falling down around us, no biblical principles will calm the storm in our heart.  Jesus is the only One who will do. He is the only One who will change our hearts, transform our circumstances, renew our perspective and give us peace and hope.  A Person is what we need, not a principle.  I’m thankful for platitudes and helpful reminders, but when I need the storm calmed in my life, I will not recite a principle, I will run to Jesus, who is in the boat with me, and wake Him up and cry for help.  Even if I’m rebuked for having little faith, I will run to Him as best as I can and let Him calm the storm.  He is all I need.

So today I’m left thankful for mountains and music.  The beauty of God’s magnificent creation and the life-changing power of divine music is truly a source of revelation of the beauty and power and magnificence of God.  Let’s never underestimate either.  And I’m left thankful for a Person.  Sometimes even my clever quips will fail, my trusted truisms, my supposed scriptural promises won’t make sense sometimes.  But God is real. He is constant, and He is a Person.  And He is what I reach for, when I can’t see my way.  I’m thankful that my God is real, even in the storm.