Dr. Seuss, Dad and this Blog

The post-Christmas lull has got to be one of my favorite times of the year.  For the 2nd day in a row, I woke up with nothing to do!  (Well, nothing I really HAVE to do.)  While one of our girls was bemoaning the boredom of a day with no plans and road conditions that kept us from venturing out of the house, I jumped into lecture mode.  "Being bored is one of the greatest luxuries on earth.  It is a gift from God."  I can turn anything into an annoying teaching moment.  It's a gift, really!  This lull also comes with an element of melancholy as it gives time for memories and thoughts that are painful to consider.  In one sense, being extremely busy is also gift in that you don't have time to rehearse loss and sadness in your life.  I was surprised to find the Christmas holiday far more painful than Thanksgiving.  Our activities, surroundings and company were nothing but enjoyable.  To look at our pictures and abundant blessings surrounding us, you would think everything was peachy and perfect,  but looks are deceiving.  There was a deep ache in my gut (still is) as everything seemed to remind me of Dad.  Even today, we are left with delicious Honey Baked Ham leftovers.  Yet, my thoughts return to Christmas two years ago when I awoke on the 26th to a "Green Eggs and Ham breakfast" prepared by Dad and the girls.  The table was topped with the Dr. Seuss book, eggs colored with green food coloring and our ham leftovers.  Who does that?  As Kelly dove into her Santa gifts, I longed for Dad to engage in a Nerf Gun War similar to the "World War 3-Water-Gun-Battles" that he is known for during summers in Colorado.  He brought a strange delight and fun to the simplest of things.  Several years ago, when Barbies were the gift of choice, they were known to hang from the light fixtures and to walk in line across the mantle.  Growing up, I thought these things were normal, but as I remember him in almost a dream-like fashion, I realize the blessing it was being raised by someone who was anything but "normal".    As we approach 2013, I wonder about the future of this blog.  It was created to connect and keep in touch with family and friends during my time in Africa.  It has provided an outlet to process unexpected loss and to make sense out of a year that changed me profoundly.  Honestly, I've always thought blogs were a little self-centered and once said that I would NEVER write one myself.  (Now, we can put that comment in the collection of things I didn't have a clue about, including---I would never go into ministry or teach kindergarten or live in Texas!)  Still, part of me hopes that life over the next year will bring uneventful routine with little reason to continue writing.    Either way, thank you for sharing this season of blogging with me and especially for remembering us in your prayers through it all.   I wish you and yours a very Happy New Year!

Lord, Help My Unbelief

A classroom of twenty or so 5 and 6 year old children is a most glorious place on earth.  Some days I sit in my green teacher's chair and just marvel at the beauty on display before my eyes.  Little people love to take ownership of their world and genuinely thrive in surroundings where they are safe and comfortable.  During the fall of 2012, while the circumstances of life gave little reason for joy, I returned each day to my sweet students and found great encouragement.  Innocence, joy, peace, and curiosity filled the room.  The news of a gun man breaking into this world was unbearable to me.  It is a most sacred place. 

Along with the rest of our country, I've ached and cried over the evil of last Friday morning.  It shakes my faith.  While getting ready for church on Sunday morning, I cried out to the Lord.   While I do not understand his ways, I prayed that he will help me to trust him more.  Even when things crumbled around me this fall, the classroom was a place that appeared to be immune to the horror of this world, a place where hopes and dreams were on full display and joy and goodness reigned.  Sadly, I've been reminded that our world is broken in all areas by sin with nothing being spared.  My only response  to this is to humbly return to Christ and to ask him to help my unbelief as I question and grieve what I do not understand.  As we approach the Christmas holiday, I am longing for the return of the Lord Jesus.  Our Sunday service included "O Come, O Come Emmanuel".  The last three verses really struck me.   Christ is our Emmanuel.  Now,  I sing this Christmas hymn with the same expectation as I long for him to return and to bring us to our heavenly home. 

"O come thou Rod of Jesse, free thine own from Satan's tyranny; from the depths of hell thy people save, and give them vict'ry o'er the grave.  O come, thou Dayspring from on high, and cheer us by thy drawing nigh; disperse the gloomy clouds of night and death's dark shadows put to flight.  O come, thou key of David, come and open wide our heavenly home; make safe the way that leads on high and close the path to misery.  Rejoice! Rejoice!  Emmanuel shall come to thee O Israel." 

Great Is Thy Faithfulness

Eight years ago, our family moved out of a small and very happy home in Tampa, Florida, said goodbye to dear friends and started the long drive to Ft. Worth, Texas, back to the central time zone for the first time in 10 years.  The drive included lots of tears and much anticipation for what seemed like a crazy decision/move to me.  Two days later, we pulled into the driveway of a large home in north Ft. Worth with a  banner across the front porch welcoming us to Texas and to a new church family.  On January 2nd, 2005, we began worshiping in a strip mall in Watagua, Texas with 40+ people who were committed to having a work of the Presbyterian Church of America in the newly developing area of the city.  Since the first service, many of the original families have gone on to new cities and other churches, but the Lord has seen fit to grow our body with new families and a growing faith and dependence through the years.   At first, we were a group of nomads moving to different facilities consistently, a day school and then elementary school cafeteria.  During the months in the day school, Kyle would vacuum the hallway before worship on Sunday and church members would set up the chairs each week.  In 2007, we moved into a permanent home through the Lord's provision of land and the funds to build a lovely building for worship and education.  This has been our happy home for the last 5 years, and frankly, I'm sad about the thought of not worshiping in our first chapel anymore.    As the pastor's wife, I will admit to a lack of faith and trust from the initial move through seasons of a "revolving door" as a church family.  Why the Lord called ME to be a minister's wife?  I will never know!  I have grown in faith and dependance as I've witnessed the Lord's work in our midst.  It has not been a work of man, most especially, not the pastor.  The Lord is faithful to his church and his people as he uses imperfect souls to do the work of ministry.   Much like the experience of that long drive to Texas, I'm full of anticipation for the next chapter of Grace Community as we move into a larger and stunning worship space this morning.  I expect there will be new and difficult challenges and a continuing revolving door in the years ahead.  Who knows?!  However, I am confident of HIS great faithfulness regardless of the circumstances and I'm overwhelmed with gratitude for his abundant goodness to us!  This morning is sure to be a time of joyous celebration and happy tears as we worship the Lord in our new home.