Roanoke to Richmond

    As a child I moved often and developed a style to it.  Odd to think that moving could have a style but it seems it can.  It's challenging to move well.  Over the years I began to see it as an almost-sport.  I love the thrill and trial of  the actual packing, loading, and unloading.  I love the newness of the empty space that I will soon reside in and the cleanness that comes to the old only by removing everything first.  I love the fresh start with who I am in other's eyes and the tightness produced in the family as it leans on each member for that sense of home.  I love learning new roads and streets and highways.  Getting lost in routine errands and finding something familiar or drawing a mental map to get home.

This move isn't the same.

While I do look forward to the packing and cleaning and arriving parts, I feel an ache coming from somewhere inside. A bit of sorrow at the loss of roots. Maybe it is my age or that the dynamics of my life have changed, but I long for a deep friendship that surpasses the superficiality of the "getting to know you" stage. I dream of getting to know an older woman who can mentor me into godly mothering and wife-hood. More than anything, I shake at the idea of not having a church for a while. My family has found itself under a pastor and church body that isn't afraid to challenge us. I have come to love the growth that comes with the challenge and I'm nervous to step out from under it. With other moves, since being married, my family has found ourselves walking through spiritual deserts. I wince at the idea of repeating those days.

I feel equipped and know that God will provide and as He promised will develop our character and make us more like Christ. The waiting and vulnerability isn't ideal or pleasant. I suppose I become anxious over foolish things.  God forgive me my lack of faith.

Fog

What is it about a foggy day that stops you or catches your attention? Is it that, for the time, you are unable to see beyond you rather than unwilling?

Honestly, its all too easy for me to live in my little bubble. As dangerous as it is; for example when I'm behind the wheel of a two ton minivan with car seats galore behind me. When I arrive home and cannot for my life remember if that last light was green or if I stopped at the stop sign. It must be even more dangerous spiritually. What have I been missing while my view of the world has been electively tailored to twenty paces or less? Lord, have mercy on your child!

Pollen, Mold, and Sin....

    I didn't develop allergies until I moved to Lynchburg, VA for college. I was one of those 'judgers' who thought people with allergies were nerdy or wusses. That is, until I myself came under a feeling of sickness that, to me at the time, was crippling and had me whining to the doctor. I remember well, because of the frequent reminders since, the first time I wanted to claw my own skin off and would have volunteered for someone to, without anesthesia, deflate my head before it burst. I remember those feelings then, and very often up to this day, the way allergies affect my body...but more my heart. There is something about physical suffering and discomfort that brings out the truth in my heart. All the impatience, anger, simplicity loving, and self-servicing that lies hidden in my dark corners. And in all my wisdom, the justification to use those flawed characteristics! Oh how my family and loved ones have suffered with me.
   For so long, I hid behind my suffering and excused my behavior because my situation made me feel like I wasn't myself. Therefore, wasn't it alright to respond in a way not of me~ in my ignorant perfection? If only!  But, fear not. The reality of my situation has been revealed through the work of the Holy Spirit, no less. The reality of it all is that those responses only emerge because I willingly host them. I am only capable of a response in line with my character and will. And what a flawed character and ugly will they are. But All Glory To God!, He allows my allergies, maybe even causes them, to bring to light what is desecrating His temple. To make known things which are hidden, and to do a miraculous work in patiently cleansing me of these grotesque, breeding imperfections. Like a loving father coming nits from his daughter's infected hair!

Successful Trials?

    These days, each season seems to bring a new change in life. Nearly always I am able to welcome the change or at least adapt quickly (at least when it is in the stages of theory and imagination). But lately the changes come without warning and I am forced to skip the welcoming stage as I am thrown into the adapting. Nearly always, it seems, my heart screams out for things to be still and return to normal.
     I have been encouraged in many directions on the matter of trials and storms, yet in some way the advice seems elementary. As if it were hollow yet well meant. You know what I'm referring to: "God will use this for good";"God is refining you"; or "it's when our lives are darkest that God can shine the brightest". I know these things to be true but they do not shed light on what I should do or how I should respond.
     I have been reflecting on this issue frequently these days as I watch many other families and friends in their trials and hope to have something deeper and fuller to encourage them with. Some bit of truth and spirit. I came across these quotes and it seems my heart is once again not where it should be.
      "Challenge is what keeps us seasoned. But to be profitable, our struggle must have purpose, and it must be productive...It's only when we put struggle within the Christian context of character development and self-sacrifice that it becomes profitable."   by Gary Thomas
   What is the purpose of our trials? How do I respond in a productive manner?  Gary Thomas indicates through character development and self-sacrifice. I can feel the fullness of those charges.
   Thomas also says "It helps when we view our struggles in light of what they provide for us spiritually rather than in light of what they take from us emotionally." This one-liner hit me like a ton of bricks! I could not accurately confess to you the amount of times I have allowed my tender, fickle, and aching heart to justify my inappropriate character and actions. Or explain how my heart seems to sail recklessly as I hypocritically long for stability. All the while, I blame the storm!
   Thank you Jesus for giving these ideas to the authors and for leading my to the books!