Changing lives forever

Some people come into our lives and touch us in a unique way. Some people have a profound impact on us, and then there are a few that cross our paths and change us for the better.

When I think of my friend Marsha, I am eternally grateful for how she truly changed my life. I would not be where I am or the person I became without her impact on my life. When I walked into a new Life Group one Saturday night after church now many years ago, she stood up front behind a podium and shared an update on her involvement with the prison ministry and asked for specific prayers. Her humble sincerity really struck me, as tears streamed down her face while she talked about her gratitude to God for choosing to work through her, despite all her mistakes in life. She was real. I knew that first night that I wanted to get to know her more.

Soon after, we signed up to be part of a small growth group/accountability group that would meet in homes about twice a month. I was so excited to find out that she and her husband were part of my group, along with three other couples that would become like family to me.

One night in the early stages of establishing that growth group, we met at another couple's home for dinner. As we ate, we went around the table answering a spiritual question about ourselves. "Tell us about your spiritual walk right now."

Well, that shouldn't be too hard, right? Do I keep things simple here, tell the "church girl" answer, or unload the truth about the realities of my broken marriage and all the anger and bitterness that still ate away at me every day. The past that I still couldn't get past, even after we moved and left it 2,000 miles behind. 

By the time they got around to me, I knew I had to open up. This was a safe place. "Well, I spend time in Bible study and prayer journaling every morning, but honestly, I feel dead inside spiritually. I'm stuck. We came to Texas not too long ago with a broken marriage, and I'm still struggling to put it in the past and move forward."

She looked across the table at me and locked eyes with mine. She knew my struggle from experience, and somehow we just connected. She pulled me aside later and told me she'd been in my shoes and felt the way I felt. She told me how her life changed after reading The Power of a Praying Wife and learning to pray effectively over her husband every day. It was more than a book. It gave her a new lifestyle that healed her heart in ways she didn't even know she needed to heal. As she healed, so did her marriage. 

A few months later, I decided to give it a try. We'd just bought our first house with a big front porch, so when summer came along, I sat outside on my front porch every morning and read through that book--and prayed. And then when I finished the book, I put paperclips on the specific prayer pages and continued to pray them. Stuff I'd never thought of praying over my husband before. And little by little, day by day, the anger and bitterness I'd held onto for so long literally started to melt away. I saw my husband with new eyes as God helped me see him the way He does.

Then I bought more Scripture prayer books and started to pray Scripture prayers over my son, my family, my friends, my workplace, and myself every day. 

Before I knew it, I'd cultivated a life of prayer that I'd only dreamed of having, and I saw God answer me so very tenderly, faithfully, and specifically in so many areas of life that summer. My front porch became my sanctuary where God met with me each and every day. Learning how to cultivate a life of prayer changed me forever. 

And it all started with my friend, Marsha, who changed me forever--and the lives of every person I pray for.  She inspired me, she challenged me, and she loved me. 

That growth group became like a second family to me, as we continued to eat many meals together in each other's homes, got together for dessert and coffee, shared each other's burdens, read Scripture together, and prayed together. Marsha, especially, was my biggest support and encouragement throughout our first adoption process. Little by little, though, we all went our separate ways, as each couple moved away and then we, also, moved to a different campus for our church much closer to home. We all kinda lost touch with each other except through a Facebook post here and there. We met up for lunch with another friend a few years ago, and Marsha shared about some neurological problems that she was experiencing that had really affected many areas of her life. I kept her in my prayers, but we sadly fell out of touch again shortly after.

On May 30th of this year, I got an unexpected call from a friend from that group. 

"Did you hear the news? Marsha passed away yesterday." 

My heart sank, and my thoughts immediately went back to that dinner around the table when she connected with me. I couldn't help but thank God for the years that God brought our paths together and for the way she changed my life. Though we fell out of touch over the last five years or so, she still continued to affect me. That's the kind of friend that I hope I can be to others, the life I hope to live out just as she did, humbly and transparently seeking Jesus and pouring out His love everywhere she went. 

Due to COVID, they weren't able to have a funeral or memorial service earlier, but they finally celebrated her life today, two months later. What a beautiful tribute to someone who loved Jesus with her whole heart and lived every day passing on that love to everyone around her--even as her disease took more from her every day, even while living out the rest of her life in a nursing home. She never hid the mistakes of her past--they were her testimony to how God can redeem anyone and anything. They just made her love Jesus even more. That's what made her so special and what made her stand out above the rest. In touching and changing my life, she continues to touch and change every person that I get the privilege to touch and change in my own circle of influence. 

Thank you, Marsha, for opening your heart to me and teaching me the healing power we find in prayer. I am so happy to know you are fully healed and get to be in the presence of Jesus every day now.

Coming out of the quiet place

I started July with a prompting from the Holy Spirit to make it a month of R.E.S.T.

A month to:

• Refuel/Refill my cup
• Expect to see God
• Soak up God's presence
• Trust God's sovereignty and control

Upon asking God to refill my cup, several virtual opportunities popped up that let me know He heard my request and had just the "fuel" that I needed at this particular time.

Let's just say that I soaked every one of them up, and I've got journals filled with pages and pages of notes to review (I learn and process information best by writing it down).

A two-day cross-cultural ministry course led by a missionary that mentored me as an intern in Mexico over 20 years ago. Though I only spent two short months in Mexico that year, the experience living with, working under, and learning from him and his wife still impact me today. As I listened to those in attendance (mostly missionaries and church leaders), I was once again reminded of all the cross-cultural aspects of my life that God prepared me for and continues to equip me for today. In my workplace, in my classroom, in online relationships, in ministry, and in my own home.

A full-day conference for teachers of faith called Teacher, Be Still, where each speaker reminded me that God will be with me every step of the way throughout this school year, reminding me that He is IN me. He commands me to be salt, to stay salty in my workplace. But I have a responsibility to stay plugged in, to start each day with Jesus, in order to not lose my ability to add flavor. My school is my mission field, but if I don't have a constant source to draw from to refuel, I will become useless in that mission field, as well as in all other areas of my life. Cutting off access to salt has a detrimental effect on all of society. I have two choices this year: Believe the worry and the fear OR accept the call to the front line and trust that God is on the front line with me. I can see all that's broken around me, or I can choose to see the beauty in that brokenness. It's there. I just have to look for it. 

I transferred all my notes directly to my Teacher Planner so I have them with me whenever I need them. 

A weekend conference with Priscilla Shirer and her sister called Desperate for Jesus.  Several speakers presented, but the one that stood out to me the most was Katherine Wolf, speaking about how to still praise God in suffering, reminding us that even when all seems lost, we have to find gratitude for what IS left, pick up those pieces, and build a new life that may not look anything like the old, but it can still be beautiful. (Sure sounds a lot like the school year ahead!) We can change our attitude and shift our perspective when we realize that God chose us for hard things because HE IS ABLE. We can ask God questions without questioning God or His character. Perhaps the treasure He allows us to find in the darkness is a treasure that someone else needs, and He chose US to carry that treasure to them. 

In addition to those three virtual conferences, I also got to spend the entire month of July digging deep into Scripture through a study called Into the Light and then meet virtually with a small group of women to discuss what God has been teaching us through it. I finished up a four week study on Facebook Live with my pastor's wife about how God wants us to FLOURISH in all areas of our life. I read several marriage books that had been recommended to me earlier in the year, I spent time coloring and meditating on the Psalms, and I prayed tons of Scripture over my husband and my sons every morning. I got to spend nearly every single morning outside on my front porch just soaking up God's presence, the part of summer that's always the hardest to let go when school resumes.

That's me and my mom sitting in the back row for the taping!

I love all the ways God continues to refuel me and the ways I can physically recharge in the summers. Even Jesus modeled that need to me, for both physical and spiritual renewal/connection with God.

Luke 5:16 CEV

But Jesus would often go to some place where he could be alone and pray.

Mark 6:31-32 CEV But so many people were coming and going that Jesus and the apostles did not even have a chance to eat. Then Jesus said, "Let's go to a place where we can be alone and get some rest." They left in a boat for a place where they could be alone.

Mark 1:35--Very early the next morning, Jesus got up and went to a place where he could be alone and pray.

Luke 6:12--About that time Jesus went off to a mountain to pray, and he spent the whole night there.

Matthew 14:13a--After Jesus heard about John, he crossed Lake Galilee to go to some place where he could be alone.

Matthew 14:23--Then he went up on a mountain where he could be alone and pray. Later that evening, he was still there.

Mark 6:46-47a--Then he told them goodbye and went up on the side of a mountain to pray. Later that evening, he was still there by himself....

Jesus loved people. Dearly. He became one of them, lived life with them, and ultimately laid down his life for them. But he knew there were times that he needed to retreat to the quiet place.

As my pastor put it in a short devotional one morning this week, sometimes God instructs us to stay put so that we can receive the power we need to move forward. To go back out into the world. Personally, I'm pretty good at retreating to the quiet places. I thrive in silence. My thoughts gain clarity and my creativity comes to life when I spend time alone. I would much rather prefer attending a virtual conference from my front porch or living room than attend a large gathering, surrounded by people on all sides with no chance to really connect with my thoughts, constantly having to make small talk and mingle during short breaks. But God didn't create us for a virtual world, whether there's an invisible contagion out there or not. He created us for community, and he commands us to be salt and light in the world. As much as I would love to, I can't stay in my quiet bubble forever. There's purpose outside of me for this time of renewal inside of me.

These conferences were just what I needed, reminding me of God's purpose for me, equipping me spiritually and empowering me to go back out into the workplace with a supernatural courage and energy. This school year looks to be the most challenging one yet. I'm so thankful for the much needed break so that I can head to the front line with all the power I need to stay salty, no matter what comes my way.

Here we are again

Or are we? I don't know that there's any again to where we are today.

This week marks the last full week of summer break. My last week of summer before I embark upon my 18th year of teaching bilingual students at Bullock Elementary. If this coming year held any bit of resemblance to my last seventeen years, I would have already been in to my classroom, quietly and slowly getting things organized and set up. I can think best when no one is around and the building is silent, so I always find a way to get in to the building at least a week early, if not two weeks, to get my classroom ready. Then when everyone gets there the following week, I can feel free to socialize with anyone who comes by or I can get started on plans, activities, and copies for the first week of classes.

I would have a notebook already filled with notes about how I wanted my classroom to look, creative ideas about how to manage things a little differently, something new I want to try out, etc. I also would have made a few small purchases for my classroom, likely at garage sales, the Dollar Tree, and Big Lots. And perhaps I would have a few digital documents saved and ready to go for the year.

On the home front, now is about the time I might start to panic over losing my last bit of free time and control over my schedule. Is there anything around the house that still needs attention that I haven't gotten around to? Any last minute appointments I need to make? Any friends or family members that I want to try to get together with for a quick lunch break?  Any last fun outting I want to attempt to squeeze in with my boys?

But this year looks a bit different than most years. Okay, different than any year ever.

No one is allowed in the building, so there's no early classroom preparation. In fact, though staff development starts a week from tomorrow, we haven't even gotten confirmation regarding how and where that week of staff development will actually take place. When classes start the following Monday, they will be 100% virtual for at least the first four weeks. Teaching rules and procedures won't look anything like it has in the past. Rather than practicing how we line up and enter/exit the classroom, beginning procedures will be about how to properly access digital assignments and lessons, how and when to mute the microphone during virtual meetings, and finding ways to become a community over a screen. Once the kids do actually come back to the classroom, there will be a whole new set of procedures and routines to teach, mostly regarding safety and teaching what this new way of COVID learning looks like. We'll be wearing masks and face shields, we'll sit far apart rather than in groups and clusters, we'll each have our own materials stored at our desk rather than the community way we've done for years. Who knows how long we'll have to go without using any playground equipment, share manipulatives, sit on the rug together, or have buddy-reading time on the beanbags. Everything about school will be foreign to all of us. Everything that my students tell me they love about my classroom and the way I teach and manage things won't even exist, well, except for the way I tenderly love each of them. Community won't look anything like we've seen before. Yes, we'll build it. It's just going to look and seem pretty foreign for awhile. Kinda feels like I'll be dropped off in another country again to learn a whole new culture all over again--except this time they're aren't any natives to learn from because we're having to build this new culture one day at a time. Though I don't know how many students will actually be back in the classroom (since they had the option of choosing remote learning for the whole year), I do look forward to the ones that do come back because this group of students was my very last group to teach in Pre-K, so it will be my second opportunity to teach many of them.

So, my bank account is a little fuller, as I  haven't purchased a single thing for my classroom other than a few new colored pens (an attempt to at least get into the school spirit). My "school" notebook isn't filled with new ideas or classroom set up plans this year. Instead it's filled with notes from trainings about teaching in the digital world and working with kids from trauma (as I'm sure we're going to find out just how traumatic this experience can be on a seven-year-old). I haven't created a whole lot of digital files, though, until I get trained on the new digital platform our district will be using this school year.

I did fill my teacher planner with a ton of positive notes, survival strategies, and Scripture verses that I scrambled to write while attending a virtual teacher conference geared toward Christian teachers called Teacher, Be Still. God knew how much I'd need that conference to empower me for the year ahead. Since my planner goes everywhere with me during school, I'll have those notes of encouragement whenever I need them. Reminders that my school is the mission field God sent me to and equipped me for seventeen years ago. Reminders that the safest place to be is in the center of God's will.

On the home front, that looks quite different, as well. Instead of family outtings and adventures, we've turned to bike rides, outdoor coffee dates, and Netflix. All. summer. long. We haven't gone on trips, I still refuse to visit with people indoors, and darn it, those dentist appointments just didn't happen (I hate going to the dentist!). I can't say I've gotten anything accomplished in the house because we're just all there all the time, so it's stayed a constant mess most weeks. Juan and I thought about painting the cabinets in the kitchen, but we just never got around to it. Home has rather been our safe haven, and without the "luxury" of being able to freely invite people in, no one on the outside had to see the mess, anyway. Lol.

I've soaked up every minute of time I could/can with David before he leaves for college in just a few weeks (so far, that hasn't changed). Life really won't ever look the same again, and I am sure his absence will hit me hard. I didn't even get any preparation/practice time to let him go (like sending him to camp in Colorado or to Africa for two weeks on a mission trip). I wonder how many bike rides and outdoor coffee/lunch dates I can convince him to go on with me over the next week. :)

It's going to be a whole new way of life ahead in so many ways. No matter how I try to imagine it, it's all still just too surreal to take it all in.

Psalms of lament

When I sat in the live audience at Lake Pointe Church for the taping of Mary DeMuth's Lifeway Bible study, Into the Light, God used the fifth session to speak to my heart.

I considered it a privilege to be part of the audience as my friend and writing mentor spoke through each session, and I looked forward to digging in to the actual study once it came out. But as I sat through Session 5, Mary taught us how to recognize the Psalms of lament and encouraged us to write our own. She explained how David wrote many psalms of lament in the same manner, starting with a lament (or a complaint) toward God, but then remembering God's character and ending each one with hope and a renewed trust in God to redeem.

In that moment, I saw my own collection of nearly 30 years of poems flash across my mind, poems that God helped me write as a therapeutic way of getting through hard times. It hit me that I'd been writing psalms of lament for the last three decades. My poems all start with some kind of deep grief or sadness over something that I struggle to put into words. When I am able to quiet my mind enough to pour out that grief into a poem, I never have any idea where the words will take me. But it almost never fails that once I let the emotion out in the first few lines of the poem, God reminds me that He's still there, He's still working, and it ends with a renewed hope and faith in Him.

"You're going to lead a group of women through this study." I can't say I heard God say that, but I felt it deeply that night.

I couldn't get the thought out of my head, and even when the church building had to close and the Church went virtual, I couldn't let the idea rest. I e-mailed the church and asked if they had ordered the study because I was certain that it was the study I was supposed to lead. (Mind you, I had to make a decision about the study in April--to teach in mid-June--but it wouldn't even release until June 1st. Kind-of a risky decision, giving me very little time to prepare, but I followed through with the prompting anyway.)

So here we are, four solid weeks in, studying together via Zoom, meeting together on our computers every Thursday morning. It's been a tough study, to be honest, forcing you to dig deep and work through some hard stuff with God. It's been eye opening to see some painfully graphic scenarios tucked into Scripture that maybe our Sunday School teachers couldn't present to us with flannelgraph pictures. The Bible stories you didn't hear about as a child, or if you did, you didn't hear all the details about what really happened behind the scenes. But even in the midst of the R-rated material, God still reigned and met the characters in an intimate way. And no matter what unimaginable circumstances are happening in our own lives, God is still God, and He's still making Himself known through them.

Today we got to Session 5, and Mary encouraged us to write our own psalms of lament. I am amazed at how following such a simple exercise can have a profound effect on our grieving process, allowing us to state and feel our grief before releasing it back to God, trusting Him for redemption. I highly encourage you to try it, and then to sit down beside a hurting friend and write one with her, too.

Here is my psalm of lament in this current season that I wrote as an example for our group, followed by the psalm of lament we wrote collaboratively in our study today. May both of them encourage you.

My 2020 psalm of lament

The way we ended the school year deeply saddened me, and the thought of how education has to change because of COVID grieves my heart.

God, strengthen me to reach my students powerfully through this awful pandemic.

I trust that You are not surprised by what is happening, that this is all part of Your plan to draw more people to You in a deeper, more powerful way.

I praise you for the joy that is coming, for the glory that will be revealed after we have suffered and persevered through this trial.

You are El Elyon, God Most High. Nothing is beyond Your control.

Our 2020 psalm of lament

As a society and a family of believers, we are deeply grieving connection.

Please, Lord, redefine connection for us by bringing divine appointments into our life.

We trust that You’re not surprised that our personalities have this need for connection and that You are creating more opportunity to connect with You. 

We  praise You for the joy that is coming, for the glory that will be revealed after we have suffered and persevered through this trial, and for the deeper way we are going to know You through this season.

You are a jealous God and will fight for connection with us because You love us that much. 

7/11

Today's date, 7/11, carries a lot of weight in my home. It's so much more than a day to get a free slushie (actually, I think they aren't doing that this year for COVID reasons). It's a day to remember that God is faithful, that He does indeed finish what He has started. A day to remember that we may make our plans, but God orders our steps--perhaps in a direction we never intended or wanted to go. 

And it represents a long journey from the mountain, to the valley, and back--including so many life lessons along the way. On that trek through the dark, lonely valley, here are a few of the things I learned:

• How to grieve and why allowing ourselves to grieve is so important
• God's plan and timing is perfect, even when it hurts like hell
• Patience
• Trust
• Flexibility
• Self-sacrifice
• Surrender
• Tedious time management skills
• Compassion
• Our need to pray, often and without ceasing
• Our need to develop spiritual endurance
• We are not in control
• God sees a bigger picture than we do
• God loves me intimately
• God sees me
• God hears me
• God provides for me, in measures more abundant than I can even imagine
• God goes to battle for me
• God is my strength when I have none
• God loves and cares for the orphan, often through us
• The global body of Christ is an international family, meaning as a Christian, I can find family almost anywhere I go
• God's economy works far beyond our imagination
• To love the orphan is never in vain
• There is purpose in pain
• When God speaks, we have no choice but to listen and obey
• Nothing can thwart God's plan
• Keep your shoes on, ready to go when God says go
• An untold story won't heal--our story has a purpose
• God comforts us in our trials so that we can pass that comfort on to someone else

I could go on, and on, and on. If you haven't read my books, I encourage you to do so to see just how much God can bring from what we can only see as a tragedy. There's actually even a third book still needing to be written, filled with more intimate love from God than I ever experienced in my life. Perhaps someday I will write the rest of that story down. 

So basically, the gist of today's post is this:

I met a 10 year old boy (and his 6 year old sister) on July 20th, 2008.

After a grueling adoption process that left us feeling completely misinterpreted, misunderstood, and helpless, I said goodbye to the boy who already assumed me to be his forever mom on November 6th, 2009--on his 12th birthday. 

They said once denied, always denied--there'd never be another chance. They cut off all communication between us, for his sake, so he'd be open to attaching to another family in the future.

But God.

Through three summer trips to Colombia, God expanded our territory, grew our "family" through Christian connections, and redeemed our story.

On July 11th, 2013, we finally signed the adoption decree for the son they told us we could no longer try to adopt. With God's divine intervention, we cleared our name and proved our love for our son, less than 4 months from his 16th birthday.

This verse, though a bit out of context, stood out to me today, especially because of it's reference (7:11).

2 Corinthians 7:11

Good News Translation

See what God did with this sadness of yours: how earnest it has made you, how eager to prove your innocence! Such indignation, such alarm, such feelings, such devotion, such readiness to punish wrongdoing! You have shown yourselves to be without fault in the whole matter.

So here we are today, 7 years later. 

Truthfully, I thought I'd have about four or five years with him before sending him off to college or launching him out into the world. We tried the college thing--and are still working our way back to some form of higher education with him, and we're currently working on life skills he just didn't have the maturity to take on yet when they presented themselves earlier. He's taking baby steps toward independence, and I'm proud of him for how far he's come in seven years. There are days I get frustrated and think he should be so much further along, and then days like today remind me that he's much further than many others who walked his shoes would be. 

Days like today remind me that God has a much bigger plan for my son than I can even imagine. 

Birds and turtles

For the last three years, I've had a deep appreciation for and love of turtles. God used two ponds of turtles two continents apart to show me His tender faithfulness to keep His promise, that He will finish what He has started, slowly and steadily working until all the pieces have fallen into the right places. 

So my heart warmed all over again when my son and I spotted this turtle on one of our bike rides, though we found it hiding in its shell, waiting for a safe chance to cross a busy parking lot. We picked it up and set it back down in the grass, where it took off quickly toward a small stream nearby. 

God has always used nature to speak to my heart.

This spring I've developed a newfound fascination with and appreciation for birds.

While sitting on my porch for long periods of time each morning this last spring, I absolutely loved listening to the variety of the songs they sang to me all morning long. Each type of bird carried a different tune, a different chirp, and a different volume. With so many people stuck at home during the shelter-in-place, I saw a greater variety of birds flying around, as well. A particular blue and white bird that I haven't figured out what bird it actually is has been spotted all over my neighborhood, and I'm amazed at the creativity, artistry, and careful attention God gave to every last detail in just one type of bird. I've caught at least one or two visiting me on my porch for a few seconds, and each time I wish it would stay put so I could just observe it more carefully. I've noticed a lot more beautiful red cardinals flying around, as well.

The first few birds that caught my attention in early March made me think of the verse, Matthew 6:26, that states: 

Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?

Such a timely reminder that even in the midst of all the COVID fear crippling the whole earth at once, God used his birds to remind me that He still took care of and protected me.

Then I did a Bible study with a friend during that time called Draw Near, a study that led me to various Scriptures about how God so clearly and boldly speaks to us through the nature all around us, how the skies declare His glory, how the sun continues to rise and set right on schedule, over and over again, how science reveals His incredible attention to every tiny detail and pattern so everything works just right. That study opened my eyes in a new way to everything He created all around me, every tree, every plant, every flower, every insect, every animal, every sunrise and sunset, every full moon, every star and constellation, and yes, every bird. I started taking notice and thanking Him for His creativity, for the way He uses so much color and beauty as an expression of love to me.

We're living in a crazy time right now, thus why it's so important to seek Christ more and more, to seek and be grounded in Truth, and to grab hold of hope. My normal social channels are either filled with hate and shame tactics (mostly over politics) or ways to spread anxiety (thinking we are just spreading awareness re: COVID, masks, scary stories, and now the ever-so-complicated reopening of schools). I read some, I ignore some, I bite my tongue/fingers on some, I like and comment on some, I agree with some, I disagree with some, and I'm angered by a lot. I'm personally on a mission to hold onto hope and to spread hope, because no matter what, hope isn't cancelled.

A simple turtle and hundreds of birds reminded me of that. Look around you. What parts of nature is God using to speak to you? If you focus on looking for treasures, you'll find them. If you focus on looking for trash, you'll find that, too. It's all a matter of what we choose to see. 

Are your shoes on?

Today was supposed to be a BIG day in my house, according to the calendar. July 7th. Today the calendar says that my youngest son was going to get on a plane and head to South Africa for the trip he's been waiting his entire high school career to go on.

That boy jumped at every opportunity to go on every single mission trip he could from fourth grade all the way through his junior year. He enjoyed the ability to serve others in many different capacities, he always looked forward to the travel and the privilege to see life in new and different places. But being able to interact with those in leadership at each location truly impacted him the most.

Then senior year hit, and he just knew that it was time to take that giant leap of faith to go to South Africa. It involved a cost almost double the most expensive trip he'd ever been on thus far, so we started raising funds early. Then when the new year started, he got out of his comfort zone and visited various Life Groups at church, talking about his trip and offering his time to help anyone with any manual labor in order to raise funds that way, too.

Suddenly the funds poured in, and he'd reached almost 70% of his goal with still a few months left.
God had a plan, and we were humbled with how He provided so far and how others still pledged to give toward his trip.

But God's plan took a different turn that no one expected, and while those funds sit protected for a future mission trip not even planned yet, instead of getting on a plane headed to Africa today, David got in the car and drove to work at Chick Fil-A.

We knew this year would be a wild ride of faith, which we assumed meant risk and adventure--and airplanes. Instead, the wild ride of faith means crossing off important events on the calendar, retreating in our homes for safety, wearing masks while at work, washing our hands more, NOT making many plans in advance, and taking life one day at a time.

However, we should not confuse the retreat to our homes with laziness. We still need to keep our shoes on, along with our spiritual glasses, so we don't miss the opportunities in front of us. God is still at work in South Africa, just as He is still at work here. And for some reason, God wants David here this summer, not in South Africa.

While at home, we have more time and opportunity to seek His presence and dig into the Word. I look at it as a time of spiritual training for what's coming. It's so easy to fret and get overwhelmed and anxious over how long this disease is going to take away from our lives. How many more events are going to be canceled, how many more hugs do we have to hold back, how long till we can resume our normal, communitiy-oriented activities like church and school? How long till we can travel to other countries and rub shoulders with people far away? How long till we can feel safe around family members whose health we don't want to risk?

I don't know what God is doing, why He helped David raise so much of his funding, only to cancel the trip altogether due to uncertainties of COVID all over the world. I don't know why he didn't get to experience all those last high school activities where he could finally be the leader God has created him to be, like his last summer camp to Colorado, the chance to serve as a leader to the middle school camp, and now the mission trip that he's looked forward to for so long. I don't understand any of it, other than that God wants us to see that "we make our own plans, but the Lord decides where we will go." (Proverbs 16:9--Good News Translation).

While we may not have willingly done so, God is in the process of destroying (or suspending our attention to) many of our idols, including various forms of entertainment, control of our time and finances, even the calendar. Just when we thought we could start returning to life as normal, the risk returned, and we're back to the training ground. Something's coming, and opportunities still present themselves all around us to share Christ's love and truth.

Are we ready when those opportunities come? Or do we have to pause, to take the time to put our shoes on, letting the opportunity slip away?

He's doing something new. He's blazing a new trail for us. Are we going to be ready?

The seventh month

So we officially survived the first half of this surreal year of 2020. Here we are today starting the first day of July, the seventh month.

As I sit here so incredibly unsettled over the losses and upset from the last six months while trying to grasp what life might (or might not) look like for the next six months, I'm left a bit speechless. So many thoughts run through my mind, yet with so few words available to articulate those thoughts.

I want to reframe the first half of the year, finding the positive and the silver lining, extracting any and all joy to be found, giving it purpose. At the same time I want to grieve and mourn all that we lost. 2020 brought trauma on all levels, and by stuffing the traumatic parts of the year down in order to keep on surviving, we will only create a future full of chronic fear and unresolved emotion.

According to the author of a book I read called Hold Me Tight, by Dr. Sue Johnson, "trauma is any terrifying event that instantly changes the world as we know it, leaving us helpless and emotionally overwhelmed." (p.234) It "shatters our assumptions that the world is just and life is predictable." (p. 236) Hmmm. That sounds to me like there's a whole world full of people presently experiencing trauma. This book also addresses our need for safe people to turn to, because those without them end up struggling much more in the future with depression, while those who have them are able to not only survive, but thrive on the other side.

We can resurface into our new reality post-COVID (which may be much further than we can even predict at this point) with greater strength, resolve, and connection or with unresolved fear and anger at all that just didn't fit our "script" for what life was supposed to look like. I, personally, am hoping for greater strength. I know that God purposed for me to be here on this earth precisely "for such a time as this." I want to know that I didn't cower in fear and miss my responsibility.

So as I step into this seventh month of the most surreal year of my life so far, I am reminded that Scripture uses the number seven often to remind us that God modeled rest on the seventh day. As I'm almost half way into a Bible study I'm leading called Into the Light (Mary DeMuth), I'm reminded that sometimes God wants us to see that He's doing a new thing--something brand new that He's never done before. Am I waiting expectantly to see Him reveal Himself in new ways, or am I rehearsing all I know about His past activity to figure out how He's going to lead us into/through the latter part of this year? Am I going to trust His amazing creativity or keep Him confined to a box of tricks I've already seen Him do?

Part of me wants to jump ahead and make this month as productive as possible, preparing myself to be the best teacher I can possibly be in the new world of teaching that awaits us (one we have very little to compare to or even have many specifics of what to expect going forward). But another part of me hears that voice whispering, "Rest. Take this time to rest."

So I'm committing this seventh month right now to this idea of rest. Like a Sabbath month. We worked our butts off and then some during these first six months. Now I need to slow down and let my body, mind, emotions, and spirit take a much needed break so I can jump into August fully rested and rejuvenated, filled up spiritually, ready to tackle whatever it is that God already has waiting for me.

Rest means I will:

R--Refill my cup where I've gone dry. Perhaps by reading more, rejuvenating my body with movement I enjoy, relaxing with an afternoon nap, reconnecting with friends and family I lost touch with, resting my mind and my eyes from too much social media influence, rehearsing God's faithfulness throughout my life.

E--Expect to see God. Perhaps that means spending more of my prayer time just listening and watching rather than just talking, remembering that prayer is a two way conversation. I am eager to find Him in places I've never looked or ways I've never experienced Him yet, seeking Him earnestly day and night until I find Him.  Praying without faith is worthless. Praying with eager expectation to see God work is the only way to please God (Hebrews 11:6--believing that He exists AND that He rewards those who earnestly seek Him.)

S--Soak Him up. Less social media. More Bible. Less scheduled activity. More time in His presence. Thirsting for intimate relationship with the God who still sits on the throne. My pastor preached a sermon once saying that one moment in the presence of God changes everything. I can't agree more. Those moments when you feel like God reaches down from heaven and touches you, when you KNOW He's right there beside you, hearing every word you speak--those moments are priceless. Soak them up.

T--Trust that He's in control. He sees all that's happening here. He hears all of our concerns and questions. He senses all of our anxieties over what life might look like from here. Trust Him enough to release the script, the one where I had life all figured out and knew what it was supposed to look like. Trust that the future of school and teaching look nothing like anything we've ever known before, but He'll be right there with me to guide me along, to keep educating tomorrow's leaders. Trust that nothing is a surprise to Him, nor is it out of His direct control.

So that's my commitment for this seventh month of 2020. Interestingly, after writing about rest, I feel a bit calmer already. If you happen to be off of work like me for one more month this year, would you join me?