The comings and goings tug hard...

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I have felt myself very irritable the last few days...  easily annoyed and frustrated.  I have felt disconnected and self-centered.  Puzzling over the "why" of my mood, I did indeed come up with some good ideas:  Simple exhaustion after returning from our travels?  Jet lag?  Hormones? Spiritual warfare?

All of these are possible, even probable, culprits behind my irritability.  But, none of these "sat" quite right with my spirit.  None of these options felt "it"exactly.  These don't hit that-nail-on-the-head.

What is it, Lord? 

As I was asking the Spirit of God to counsel my soul and lead me into all Truth, I was struck with a memory from my childhood.  More a feeling than a visual memory, actually.  This feeling of irritability and unsettledness feels faintly familiar, Lord...

In my mind's eye, I could just see and feel that 16 year old girl riding her "every-other-weekend" ride to her dad's house.  That was the agreement.  We would go every-other-weekend and see Dad.  And, we would see him the weekends before Easter, Thanksgiving and Christmas... maybe even Christmas eve.  

That's it!  That is where I have felt this way before!    

That Friday after school would come and almost like clockwork, I would get frustrated, irritable and self-centered.  I remember feeling puzzled even at the time.  I wasn't even close to aware or conscious of it, like I am now.  But, it would happen.  And, I would ride that long ride and feel those hard feelings and begin the decent into disconnect.  

This is how I have been feeling the last few days.  

You see... these last two weeks we traveled far and gathered with a group of people we rarely see and yet, strangely, love deeply.  We connected quickly and we prayed together.  I listened and I heard hearts.  I walked alongside some of my favorite people on this globe.  And, then... on Friday,  I got on a plane and flew away from that far away place.  

I flew away---flew 'home'-- to another place I love... to be among another group of people I love and care for deeply.   Welcomed home with love, we reconnected with a warm embrace and tender words.  Ahh!  home!   But, two of my worlds seem to be hanging heavy on my fragile and full heart.  Pulling and tugging---making me want to descend into that dark self-centered, disconnected, irritated place.  ...to hide in that teenage shell of "I don't care. and What-e-ver!"

But, I do care.  I do care very much.  And, I am sad that we can't all live together in one big villa!  My two, three and four worlds that live within my heart ...

I dreamt about it last night.  In my dream I saw friends and family from across the earth.  Strange combinations: friends and family from here. from there. and from there.  ...all together, interacting with each other, in a crazy mixed up dream---my psyche just trying to make order from the colliding worlds.   

I do care very much.  

I did care... and still do care deeply... for my dad.  I was desperate to see him those "every-other-weekends".  But, the coming and goings of my life tugged just too hard sometimes on my heart and it hurt--- it hurts---just too much sometimes.

ugh...this nomadic life:  the comings and the goings.  Our hearts were not made for good-byes.  

Maybe this is why I have been feeling a bit irritable these last few days...  

Overwhelmed by a gift

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She just took off her necklace and gave it to me.
A beautiful, hand-crafted piece of art, she took it off and gave it to me as she was leaving.  What!? Why would she do that?

"Stop, don't give me your necklace!" I cried, as she was unlatching it at the back of her neck. "You are not seriously giving that to me?!" I said, still trying to stifle the shocking generosity I was experiencing.

"I am."  she said in a matter-of-fact tone, with gentle smile.  "I wanted to bring you a gift and I didn't.  So, I will give you this."

Last night, I watched the awe-striking beauty of living in such freedom from things...

As A.W. Tozer might suggest that her possessions do not posses her.  She was not clinging to this thing...

"There can be no doubt that this possessive clinging to things is one of the most harmful habits in the life.  Because it is so natural, it is rarely recognized for the evil that it is.  It's outworkings are tragic."  ~A. W. Tozer

Last night I saw open handed generosity, I watched it and received it.  I felt it's kindness and sweetness placed and secured around my neck.

Having lived most of our adult lives overseas and on faith-based financial support, we have the unique opportunity to see generosity in the Body of Jesus daily.  We really do.   Early in our ministry, living on the donations of churches and individuals was a horrible burden for me---a difficult struggle for my heart.  The tightness of a small budget, the ambiguity of how much would come in each month, the pressure and judgement I felt living "on other people's money"... all of these felt heavy and hard.  

And, now, instead--- I love it.  I truly love it.

In the 15 years of living overseas, something has changed deeply inside of me.  God has taught me something right and real.  He has shown me that it is ALL His money, through His kids, to support His kids and His kingdom.

All of it--- all of us--- all His.

I get to see God provide through His people every day.  Through the generosity and faithfulness of His people, I have seen His provision and blessing in abundance.  I know each phone bill is paid because one of His children, my brother, has given to support us.   I know that each time I get on an airplane, He has bought the airline ticket and used some of His children to give us that gift.

And God's people are a very generous lot, I might say.  Not only is God using His kids to pay our rent and our medical bills; but we have above and beyond our "needs".  There have been times when we have been given temporary houses and cars in spades.  We have been given gift cards and "fun money"!  ...And, books and coats and ipods.  And yesterday I was given a necklace.  Why would she do that?!  My heart still reels with the profound generosity in the act of giving and receiving.  I am still overwhelmed by the gift.

We talked about it as a family as we drove away last night.  What fun it is to watch generosity!!  She blessed my heart--- deeply.  She blessed "my socks off!" with her gift.  And, I wondered out loud if maybe her heart felt blessed in the giving.  Her smile and gentleness indicated she was touched by the gift, as well.

It IS certainly good fun to give, too, isn't it?!  

Both of us blessed.  Both of us living out, living under, the beauty of giving:  the giving and the receiving.
For, "this is love..."  (I John 4:10)  and "this is love..." (Romans 5:8)

Warmth, new words and a teleporter please

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The morning air was crisp and cool.  My 9 year old son and I picked up the pace as we journeyed home from church, longing to get home, get lunch and get warm.  We walked, hand-and-hand, snuggled as closely as our winter jackets would allow.

All of a sudden, he blurted out, “Mom, I don’t feel very well.”  

He had just been playing with friends at church, so I was surprised and asked, “Oh! Are you feeling sick?” 

“No”, he replied, “I am feeling… ....I don’t know.”  

I paused and gave him some time to find his words.  

Holding tight to my hand and just a tilt of his head, he looked up and said,  “You know when you are just about to leave a place… you feel… you feel... I don’t know.” 

Trying to help him, I suggested, “You feel unsettled?” 

“Yeah, I guess so... No, not really unsettled.  More…  more leave-y”.  

In that moment my boy created his own adjective:  leavey

I asked him if it was a good feeling.  He said, "No", It wasn't.  And he pulled in tighter to my arm.   

"Me, too, baby. Me, too."  ...what else do you say?

Living overseas has been a tremendous blessing for our family.  I simply can not count the spiritual, emotional, relational and physical gifts that have been poured out over us because of our calling overseas these past 10+ years.  But,  the truth still remains,  it is hard to be constantly straddling two, or three worlds, isn't it?  

There is no way around it--- it is just hard. Sometimes, it just stinks!  And, although the benefits are immense, there is a cost.  

So, we pack our bags this weekend and get on an airplane and fly "home" to stay for a few months.  ...hating the long flights, my son is still contemplating the ins-and-outs of designing and inventing a "teleporter".  

And, we feel all mixed up inside.  From my daughter we have dancing glee one moment, literally--- and then sobs of grief the next.  We want to go.  We do.  And, we desperately don't want to go.  The emotions are running high in our home.  

...leaving home to go home, and all that that means.  It isn't easy.  

What else do you say?  

"The Lord has been our dwelling place" (Psalm 90:1) and "You will keep in perfect peace, he whose mind is steadfast on you." (Isaiah 26:3) ...come to mind.  

"Anything that makes me long for God is a blessing. Anything that makes me desperate for Him, anything that brings me to the end of my own resources, my own strength, my own power, that's a good thing."  ~Nancy Leigh DeMoss 

Tent Living

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It is just a tent.  It is a temporary place to sleep, to play, and to live from...  but, just a tent.

To be sure, I believe it is good stewardship to keep my tent in good repair.  I need to keep it clean, sew up the holes, and patch the weather-worn places.  ...  It would be good and right for me to carry my tent well, keep it secure and store it wisely.

I want my tent to last and to withhold the rain, the wind and the hot sun!  But, in the end, it is only a tent.

Camping here in Wales has been eye opening to me.  Being a Southern California girl, I was accustomed to tent camping that included no rain, no wind and lots of warm weather.  The tents I camped in where minimalist. They didn't need much care!  ...nothing much buffeted them.  Now, I have experienced something very different.  The state of your tent is very important here.  The wind and the rain can be rutheless here.

I am learning (as I age)...the state of my earthly tent is very important, indeed.  But, this body of mine, it is still only a tent.

One must care well for their tent, yes!  It must be strong, sturdy and well looked after ... it would be unwise to go camping any other way!

But, in the end... it is still just a tent.  You live in it temporarily and then put it aside.  It isn't home.

This body of mine.  ...it isn't permanent.

My body is a temporary living arrangement.  It isn't my home.  Yes, I need it to be strong and I believe God would have me care for this tent He has given me, to honor Him with all He has given me.  ...to steward it well.  But, it is really good to remember it is only a tent.

...no hanging of pictures on the wall will be necessary.

...no furnishing needed for long term unpacking.

...no change of address, or forwarding card.

...no painting, no extra bells-and-whistles needed.... just a good, healthy sturdy tent. Good, temporary housing for the camping journey; able to withstand the coming rain, the wind and the weather.

My days are numbered (Psalm 39:4).  I am reminded that I am a stranger here on earth (Psalm 119: 19) and an alien (1 Peter 2:11).  I am looking and longing for a better place, a heavenly home... (Hebrews 11:16)

All men are like grass, their glory like the flowers of a field.  The grass withers and the flowers fade...  (1 Peter 1:24)

I am eagerly waiting a beautifully secure, eternal, fade-less dwelling place.  ...and while waiting, I patch a few holes and clean this God-given tent.  And, I remember it is just temporary.

This is the Cost

"This is the cost", she says to me with tears brimming. Sitting on my couch, with legs curled under her... coffee in hand, she says confidently, "...and this is part of the cost, isn't it?"

The cost-benefit ration of following God's lead and moving overseas is complex and varied. Are there benefits? Absolutely! We can count abundant benefits to our family, our marriage, our kids, and our spiritual lives. There are many, many benefits to living a life of service overseas.

But, are there costs? Of course. Yes, absolutely. There are painful, daily, humiliating, and difficult costs on our lives.

I think, that said, there is a cost to any God-following obedience. ...taking up our cross, He calls it in Scripture. There is always a cost to following Christ.

The cross... although it bring innumerable benefits... is painful and heavy.

The costs of moving out of your home culture to serve alongside the Good Shepherd, though, are unique. And, these costs are heavy.

This is the cost, she says half smiling-half ready to cry.

My heart knows exactly what she is saying... I get it. And, I say, Yes! ...Yes, I say as my eyes now brimming with tears, too.

...missing your sister's wedding.

...missing your nieces birth.

...receiving an email (not a call) about your mother's health.

...having your young child ask you again, "Now, who is that person?... What is his name?" And, he is referring to your brother, his uncle.

...missing those in-between years when nephews grow from babies to boys... boys to men.

...missing that graduation, that 40th birthday party and the Thanksgiving dinner.

...being forgotten. or, instead, being so deeply missed that you are the source of someone's pain. Which is better?

...raising kids that are not "normal". And, they know it.

...not having that youth group, that Grandma's mentoring, or that Christian soul friend for a young budding daughter.

...not having that booming, beautiful, vibrant worship service each week.

...having to choose which state-side family crisis is worth the price of an international flight, ...and having to go on your own, because tickets for the others are too expensive.

...not having a primary care doctor that knows you, has known your medical history or even your name.

...not helping with your dear friends wedding shower, or attending her dad's funeral.

... missing it. ...not being there. ...not having.

This is the cost, she says to me. And, I hear her heart. And, I can only agree. I nod. And, I smile with small tears brimming. Yes, this is the cost.

Is it worth it? ...What a crazy, silly question, we both know. Even with brimming tears we know --of course it is worth it!? We hardly have to ask each other the question. We know what He has asked of us. And, we know His will is for His glory and our best. We know the benefits. We know our Good Father and His blessings. So, of course it is worth it!!

Simon Peter answered him, "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life." John 6:68

The benefit most definitely outweigh the cost. Always. Where else are we to go?!

But, there is a cost. And, there is a cross.

And, we must carry it. And, yes, this is the cost.

His Liver to Mine

What comes out of our mouths, the words we speak, say so much about what is in our hearts. The good, the bad, the beautiful and the ugly come from our hearts and spill out of our mouths. Our words mean something. When we feel strongly, when we think deeply, when we ponder and question... we try to share our hearts with others with words. With words we attempt to put vocabulary, sounds and/or symbols on a page that might somehow explain the truth that is deep within us. It is hard for me to grasp sometimes... but it is true for our God, as well.

In the Kazakh language they use an interesting phrase that has stuck with me since learning the language 10 years ago. When you love someone... you don't love them with your heart, you love them with your liver. You know that place deep within you that feels? You know that physical place in your gut that can actually feel anxious, or scared, or sad... Is it in your chest? Is it in your stomach or your gut? Where is it?

This place is your "heart". In Kazakh that place is your "liver" (bauer). We say we ask Jesus into our "hearts". What we are really saying is that from our deepest part, from the center of our being, from our gut... we are inviting Him in. We want Him to come and live in us, deep within us, ...in our "hearts" (our English word for it). In Kazakh we love our husband from our liver and we ask Jesus into our liver.

From my Father's depths... from His inner core, the center of God... from his heart, or from His liver, come His thoughts. Just like us, His feelings and His being spill out into words. The Word of God. It changes my heart toward the Scriptures when I remember this. When I open this book... this sweet book... I am reading something that has spilled out of God's depths, God's center. When I read His word I am reading His mind, His heart, His thoughts. I am reading what is in His gut. His words are from Him. His words are very real part of Him. His words are a part of Him, His very thoughts, coming forth from His mouth... to the page... into my eyes, into my mind and intended to penetrate my depths.

From His inner being... out His mouth and into my inner being... my heart. So, when I read, "He rejoices over you with singing!" (Zeph. 3:17), I don't have to wonder if it is true. When I read, "I am the Lord, there is no other" or " I will be with you always", I don't have to wonder or question what God thinks. I know it sounds funny to say, but I am struck with the fact that God himself believes it! He, Himself, is sharing the truth from His depths, from His center. It is Him coming forth from His mouth. What is in His heart, the words He speaks, say so much about what is in His heart.
...Or what is in His liver. His liver to mine.

Sometimes it just stinks!

Sometimes living overseas just stinks! Actually, the word "sucks" comes to mind (not to be too totally offensive!). Sometimes this life call just sucks!

I talked to my sister last night. I love my sisters. This sweet sister is pregnant and I want to be near her. She told me about her current spiritual journey and I just wanted to be in the same room. I wanted to hug her.

I read a note from my dear friend today and I just wanted to cry. I could literally feel "missing" in my chest. My chest tightened and I felt just a bit sick. I miss her so much.

I drank coffee yesterday from a mug that I painted with my friend for her birthday. Why can't I just live next door to her and we could drink our coffee together... on the same continent! I just want to stop by her house and chat.

My mom is in pain. She is physically hurting and weakening. She needs surgery in this next year and I won't be there. ...I think of her so much. I want to help. I want to be a phone call away--- without calculating a time difference.

I opened an email from my sister-in-law and saw pictures of my cute niece. She is growing so fast, I can hardly believe it. I am missing it! She won't know Aunt Stephanie next time I see her and this... well, ... it sucks.

Sometimes this life of mine just stinks! What else can I say?

As I write this I am listening to Aaron Shust's song, My Savior... it is good for my soul right now.

I am not skilled to understand

What God has willed, what God has planned

I only know at His right hand

Stands One who is my Savior

I take Him at his word and deed

Christ died to save me this I read

And in my heart I find a need

For Him to be my Savior

That He would leave His place on high

And come for sinful man to die

You count it strange, but once did I

Before I knew my Savior

My Savior loves, my Savior lives

My Savior's always there for me

My God He was, my God He is

My God He's always gonna be

My daughter has had a dream more than once. In her dream, all the people she loves live in one big apartement building (or house). It is a happy dream! I have that dream too...

It is good to remember that God knows what it is to "leave" His place. He knows about missing people, separation, deep love for friends... He knows what it is to be a stranger, an alien, longing for a better country, a perfect home.

Thanks, Lord for music. Thanks for Truth, Father. It doesn't make it hurt less, or stink less... it just brings Your Presence into the pain.

Just plain angry

"I never want to move again!", screaming with tears our daughter expressed verbally what we all were feeling. We were packing. Hard decisions needed to be made. What do we take? What do we store? What do we give away? But, always when we do this packing and moving thing, the most difficult thing to "store... or give away" is the people. Leaving the relationships are the hard decision that we have to make.

"I am just so mad!", she yelled. "I just want to live in the same place with all the people I love and for no one ever to move again. I want all my family, all my friend and everyone I love to live in the same place forever!". She wept. She was angry.

How do you respond to a sweet tempered ten year old when they are screaming out with such sadness and anger? My husband wisely just invited her on to his lap and held her as she cried. She cried. And she cried. This isn't the first time she has expressed outwardly the difficulties of this aspect of our career. So Dave held her. Then he simply said, "I know. I feel the same way!". The words were like the "Be still" that Jesus spoke to the wind and the waves! Looking up at him, in his arms, she said, "Really!". Instant calm.

Sometimes it is just good to know you are not alone. It is good to know that what you are feeling is normal. ...Or, at least, understood. This was enough to calm her emotions. She could sink deeper into his lap. They could talk again about God being her home. She could articulate her hope of heaven... the place where all those we love never have to move from! They could talk about her deep longings being from God. Right. Good. Pure longings. This frustration with separation was, in fact, "eternity written in her heart".

Lord, may we know you as our Rock. May we know you as our home. Be with our children and guide, protect and bless their hearts.

Bags, bags and more bags

What size should we buy? How many do we need? We have done this so many times, you would think that we have it down to a science, right? Nope. We still discuss. Disagree. Agree. Buy. And take back.

Walmart runs. Internet research. Target runs. Oh, and now we are moving up to Kohl's.

The backpacks for the kiddos broke on our trip back to the States and we are down to only a few duffels because they got beat up in New York. New York can be so mean! ...And so we buy. How big? How many? Will this one, when full, weigh more than the required 50 lbs? Oh! That reminds me that I need to borrow Grandma's scale so we can weight the bags.

And the the list goes on and on.

Packing is never a fun or easy part of this fabulous life God has called our family. Not fun. Not easy, but very necessary. So, we list make, we plan, we pack, we unpack and then re-pack. We weigh. We get angry and then we repack to weigh again! We laugh. We cry. We pray. We discuss. And we keep packing!

As I write this post, I have a song playing in the background. Amy Nobels is singing, "Ask and I will give you the Nations... Oh Lord, that is the cry of my heart. Distant shores and the islands will see You Light as it rises on us. You said, Ask and I will give the Nations to you. Oh, Lord, that is the cry of my heart!" What a good reminder to my soul, my heart and my mind... This is why we are doing what we are doing! All this packing and all these harried "lists" are in some crazy way for Your Glory, Lord.

May we do these things as unto You alone! May we pack, repack, buy bags and weigh our luggage all to Your glory. Fill my heart with a knowledge of Your Presence, Your Honor and Your glory. It is all for you, Lord. You and Your promises to the Nations.

Miriam's Stuff

Apparently she had a tambourine (Ex.15). She had pots and pans. She had a hand mill and a mortar for the manna (Num.11). She had shoes, tents, and bedding. She must have washed her self with something, her pans with something and maybe she had a broom to sweep the floor of the tent? We can assume she combed her hair. She had stuff. Granted she didn't have as much stuff as I have! But, she did have stuff.

I can't look at Numbers 10 and not wonder what this was like for Miriam and the other Israelite women as the journeyed through the desert for 40 years. Numbers 10 tells us that at the Lord's command the pillar of cloud and fire lifted and they "set out". It tells us that the pillar, God's direction, could stay put for a day, a month or a year... they just did not know. God knew. It was at His command. But day-to-day they did not know. At His command, the pillar would rise and they would set out.

What was this like for the ladies. Can you just hear it... "Oh, dear, the pillar is moving... gather up the bedding, gather up the pots and pans. Our combs will fit in the pans... let's see the mortar can be wrapped in the blankets...". Can you just imagine the chaos? Can you just hear the hustle and bustle. The... now, where is my comb? Aaron where did you put your outer garment? Where should I put my mill?

We think that we see the movement of our "pillar", we think that the cloud is beginning to move and we will be setting out very soon. Like Miriam, I have stuff. Maybe too much stuff. I begin to think... okay, how do we get all this stuff there? What do I do with all our books? Do I take all of them? What do I store here, what do I take with? Combs, brushes, makeup, earrings, clothes, socks, undies, jacket, sweater, long underwear ... oh, and how many Ranch dressing packets do I take? Do I take the muffin pans? What about homeschooling stuff? Will we ship them? Will we take them as luggage on the airplane? Okay, and the kids stuff... oh, my, the toys! Can we take the microscope he got for his birthday? Will it break? The stuffed animals... Do we take them all? What bags do we use... do we box it all? We have collected so much since we "encamped" in California these last few months...

Hustle and bustle. Questions and noise.

I am sure that the hustle and bustle of it all may have been at times (maybe each time?) frustrating for the Israelites. The certainly were not immune to complaining and grumbling! Did Miriam feel rushed and harried by it all? To be sure, to live in such a manner for 40 years was not convenient or easy. Did they learn to rest in the knowledge that He was leading them...

Scripture tells me that I can do all things with Christ's peace as a reigning force, a protection and a stabilizing reality. The Prince of Peace can walk with me in this. He is with me... even more real than a pillar of cloud. His Presence is within me. His peace can guard my heart and my mind. Remind me of this, Lord. The movement of the cloud is bringing noise to my soul. May I walk in your peace as we begin to set out.

Purple Alien

Leaving church this morning, my daughter said to me, "I am tired of being "the overseas worker" [different because of what we do for a living]. I instantly understood her comment and gave a hearty, "Yes, me too!" This morning in church she was, again, singled out and questioned about her experiences. Tell us about your average day in Turkey, Becka... they asked. She began to tell them about her crazy overseas life... you know, crazy stuff like "well, I get up in the morning and eat breakfast"... "then I go to school" and afterward "I play with my friends". They then pointed out to the other children how wonderful she is and what a special little girl she was. Ugh... she felt. Ugh... she thought. And, thus the statement as we left church this morning.
Our family laughed almost our whole ride home as Dave repeated the events of the morning with an awe-inspired, hollywood voice, over exaggerating teacher's response for comic relief: ..."Ooooo...Oh... wow... you eat breakfast!" and "school, ...Ahh... what an experience" and "Ooo.. Amazing! You play with friends". We all laughed and decided that, whether we like it or not, our calling has indeed made us aliens. Purple aliens, we all decided. My son poignantly commented that we (Dave and I) have chosen to be purple, but that they had had no choice. We agreed. They haven't chosen to be purple. We (God really) have chosen this for them. Having the experiences they have had, living the places they have, being in relationship with the people they have... they will always be purple. "Purple" is simply the color they are. There are places we go where their "purple-ness" is more noticed. There are other places where people have become accustomed to their color. They still prefer to not stick out,of course. A very human response... not very alien-like!
So, as the questions, the awe, and the "pointing out" is to be their lot in life, we talked about the fact that they need to interpret this as love. It is love, in fact, from this truly wonderful Body of Christ that has cared so genuinely and tangibly for us. It is love. So, they need to translate. Just as we had to translate Turkish into an English word in our heads, we need to trust that this "language" of question asking is one of love. The reason that the only question most people know how to ask me is, "Any news on your visas? and When do you leave?" is because they love me.
My sweet girl just wants to be an average little girl. And, she is. She just gets up in the morning, eats breakfast and plays with her friends. But, she also is a tint of purple and can't get away from it. Me, too.

I am an alien

My family and I just spent an hour walking the pier in Huntington Beach and I am exhausted. The tiredness isn't a physical one... but an emotional one. I am spiritually tired from one hour on Main Street. Why? What is it that makes me so exhausted in this setting?

I felt like an alien.

I felt totally out of place and tired after on hour.

Is it the noise? ...Noise for the ears and for the eyes. Is it the barrage of sights? Maybe it is because most of the sights, in fact, bring sadness to my soul as I look on. I am not sure.

I sit here now in my quiet living room and am reminded of something that Beth Moore said in a lesson this week... "We are not a culture very good at moderation". Is this what I was seeing?

It isn't just a person with one tattoo... he has covered his body with them. It isn't just a set of earrings or one piercing...she has covered her body. It isn't just a fit and healthy person,... it is someone who has obviously spent hours upon hours at the gym. Not just one place to buy shoes or shirts or sunglasses... but 20 different shops all with piles of new things to buy. It isn't just a pair of shorts to help with the heat, but shorts so short that we have an unwanted "show" as she walks in front of us. It isn't just a scoop of ice cream, but a mound of ice cream covered with syrups and sprinkles. It isn't just hand holding to show admiration and love, but full-on make out sessions for all to see. This is the barrage of sights that made me exhausted, I think.

What planet am I on? Who are these people and what is life like for them? I feel like an alien here. Truly. I am an alien and stranger. Am I totally alone in this feeling, I wonder. It isn't that I think tattoos, ice cream and shorts are wrong. Truly, I don't. But the excess is noise to my soul and I am tired.

Not that I am very good at moderation either. My excesses are just more easily hidden. I struggle with that "one" thought that I can't stop obsessing on... I struggle to stop at that handful of chips on my plate. Do I really need more? I struggle to enjoy that one handful of candy after dinner and find myself indulging. It is just gluttony. Do I really need one more pair of jeans? Do I really need to spend more time doing this or that... I could stop. Do I really need to plan (again) our schedule for tomorrow. Ahh... I need to learn to say, "that is enough for now".

Balance and Moderation. All to the glory of God. He says eat, drink and whatever you do can be done to His glory. I suppose if I grew in the area of moderation and balance, the sights and sounds of Huntington would be even more overwhelming. I guess when asking God to help me grow in this area, I am asking to become even more strange and alien-like. Am I okay with this?

Two Fragile Hearts

We have known that our kids have not exactly been “themselves” for a while. We have seen the stress of the ambiguity wearing on each of us.

There are moments when theoretical stress turns into real, every day emotions. This happened yesterday!

I noticed that the room they are staying in was messy and needed to be picked up. In a joking manner, I made the off handed comment regarding my sweet girl's doll, “Maybe it is time I take the doll away if you can’t keep her stuff picked up.” The quick comment was said in response to the “tornado” room I was looking at; but, her response was immediately very intense!

She burst into weeping tears and pleaded (while gripping her doll) that I not take away her doll.

Of course, my next response was to grab her into my arms, apologize for my off handedness regarding her dolly and to hold her as she cried. I knew instantly that the tears were not only about this doll, but the other dolls/stuffed animals that she misses.

Many very important and special things have been “taken away” these last 10 months (friends, home, team, and stuff).

I asked her if I was right in my guess and she wept that much harder with a resounding “yes!”. I can certainly relate! It has been almost 10 months now of a nomadic lifestyle for our family.

My husband and I both have been fighting off the general malaise that comes with the daily stress of this transition. Maybe I should have entitled this “four fragile hearts!”

There is a beautiful stability that comes with “home” and our stuff, isn’t there?

We feel secure in our homes.

When God allows us to be in a homeless, nomadic state it does remind us that He is our home and that things are temporary; but, these lessons are deeply difficult none-the-less.

So, we continue to ask God to fill our hearts with faith, peace, and stability in Him alone. While asking that He fills our hearts with contentment in Him alone, we also ask fervently that he would eventually allow us to re-unite with our stuff (packed away and ready to ship to Wales from Turkey) and allow us to have a “home” again. I find this balance of surrendered prayer and persevering prayer a difficult one.