Starting over...again

When I think of all the times I've "started over"over the years for the sake of being obedient I can either laugh or cry, both would suffice.  I have always had a kindred spirit with that of Joseph, the biblical character.  I can at times make parallels from his life experiences and life lessons.  Although, I have never been in prison, I've often felt like a prisoner of my thoughts.  Like Joseph, I had a dream at a young age.  I felt a very strong call into ministry at the age of 17, I gave my life to God  and I did what the natural next step was:  I joined Master's Commission.  It's a hybrid, ministry training program and bible college.  

Phase 1: Leaving the nest.  I moved 2,000 miles away from home to Sumter, SC to join the Master's Commission program there.  I had an accelerated ministry experience and dove straight in.  I spent time mentoring youth, organized school assemblies, helped create dances and dramas that explained biblical principles in laymen's terms.  I organized a community outreach to low income families through a sidewalk Sunday school program.  I traveled across 23 states and 2 countries, preaching, teaching and learning the gospel.

Phase 2: After three years in Master's Commission, I became a children's pastor at a church in Denver and enrolled in classes at Denver Metro.  I quickly learned that the two year certificate didn't transfer to any public secular college.  I could either transfer to an expensive Christian College that would accept my transcripts or start over.  I started over.  Ah, little did I know that "starting over" was my new anthem.  I started working full time at bank, was in school full time and also worked for the Church part time.  During this season, I met my future husband Zach.  As soon as we started dating he says, he knew I was going to be his wife.  It wasn't until we'd been engaged for six months that I knew he was going to be my husband.

Phase 3: After getting married, I moved to Greeley, CO.  Moving to Greeley was phase three of "starting over" for me.  I left the comfort of my church, my job, my friends, and my family to start over in Greeley with my new husband.  This season felt very gloomy, it felt like I was wrestling with my new job of being a wife and being in a new place on any given day.

Phase 4: A few years later, at the prompting of the Lord, we sold all of our belongings and moved to Honolulu, HI which makes phase four of "starting over."  We quickly got acclimated to the climate and the culture there.  We made some incredible friends and attended an amazing church but always felt the sense of longing to be in full time ministry.  We got offered a position at a church in Greeley to restart the Master's Commission program and because our heart beat echoed ministry we had to take it.

Phase 5: Back in Colorado, with nothing more than the clothes in our suitcases and the 10 boxes of sentimental items we mailed through the U.S. postal service, we started over.  We worked at this church helping build their young adult program and met some great friends along the way.  After two years of pouring our hearts and souls into this ministry, we got hurt and took a step away from ministry for a few months.   This phase is a dark phase, from what I recall.  It's much like a person who is wounded in battle but has blurred memory as to where the wounds came from.  The further I get from this phase the easier I find it to forgive and forget.

Phase 6: Mosaic.  Our motto, "a church for people who don't really like going to church."  That was us, that was me.  This time starting over wasn't as easy.  After several months of reevaluating and reexamining our hearts and values, we felt safe again.  We took baby steps toward spiritual recovery and  slowly began to trust again.  We weren't as enthusiastic as we once were but still hopeful and grateful for the opportunity.  It seems like the time flew by, and here we are 5 years and three months later overlooking the cliff we are about to jump off in order to "start over" again.

Phase 7: Hawaii again.  Without the details in place of how we arrived at this decision, it's hard to see the impact of how heavily weighed it was.  We've spent the last 5 years helping start and build Mosaic.  We were in the first meeting where we discussed what it would look like to have a church like Mosaic.  Now God is calling us to help build another church that's in it's infancy.  We will be traveling 2,000 miles in the opposite direction for the sake of obedience and I can honestly say, this has been the most difficult move we've ever had to make.  Starting over isn't easier the 7th time.  It really has never been easy, this is why most won't do it.

So, I sit here, with my stubborn submissions to the Lord and the audacity to think that my ways are more precise for my life than His.  I am reminded again of Joseph.  Through his example we can see that starting over is part of living.  We are faced with decisions on a regular basis to start over.  Most times, we think we've chosen this but we are quickly reminded that it is the Lord that is beckoning us to follow his lead of new beginnings.  The thing about Joseph that is so refreshing is that he was able to take his lot in life and start over in any situation.  Even in prison Joseph was acclimated and affirmed.  What makes us think we are any different, If God has given you a dream, it may take years of "starting over" till you see it come to fruition.  Don't let one restart be your last.  The quickest way to death is allowing one diagnosis, one past due notice, one failed test, one failed grade, one setback, to interfere with your new beginning.  "Faith and Fear are very similar.  The difference is Fear paralyzes and Faith causes action! (Paul D. Espinoza)"

This too shall pass

“Mom, wipe my butt!” These are the words that send chills down my spine and create an elongated sigh, followed by a deep breath.  It’s weird, that this is the last trace of potty training or toddler memorabilia lingering in my world these days.  It’s these four small words that can transcend any mood I am in, into an almost comical state of frustration.  It’s a season, they say.  And “they” are right.  It’s a short season, here today and gone tomorrow.

Zekey is my baby, my last child.  That sounds weird when verbalized.  It sounds so final.  After several serious and in depth conversations, Zach and I decided that we were done having children.  I hated pregnancy.  You know how “they” say that pregnant women glow?  Well I think I must have glowed in the dark because being pregnant was more of a “horror story” for me than a “romantic comedy.” I love being a parent, don’t get me wrong.  I love my children more than a fat kid loves carbs!  But we took the necessary “steps”toward finalizing this decision.  There are days when I consider all the pros and cons of childbearing and am content with this decision.  Having said that, there are also days when I see a newborn smiling for the first time or a toddler taking those clumsy first steps when I wonder if we’d made the right decision.   It’s amazing how your heart is transformed the minute you look into your child’s eyes for the first time.  My life has been made complete through my children.  So why is it that I cringe every time I hear the words those four simple words come out of Zekey’s mouth, “MOM,WIPE MY BUTT!”

I can’t remember the last time Abi needed assistance in the restroom.  She’s six years old now and far too sophisticated with her first grade vocabulary and maturity.  To be honest I can’t remember the last time she need help with much of anything.  Now that she’s reading, spelling, adding and subtracting, she seems to have it all figured out.   In fact, I can probably come to her instead of spell check and she could teach me a thing or two.  I get sad when I think about how gradual this independence happened, it seems to have snuck up on me.  It was like one day she’s asking for help and the next she’s explaining to me how ‘I comes before E accept after C.’

Abi lost her first tooth and she was one of the last if not the last in her first grade class to experience this epic phenomenon.  I can remember countless conversations during
her kindergarten year, usually after kids started losing teeth, she’d cry and ask me when it was going to be her turn to lose a tooth.  I’d smile and say, “It’ll happen sweetie … in God’s time.”  That was my fancy way of saying “I don’t know.”  Expert advice, I know, you can thank me later.  So the day came, it finally arrived when her first lose tooth surfaced.  I was a momentous day in the Bumgrabber household.  We celebrated with the sticker song, which we used to sing to her after she’d make poo-poo or pee-pee in the potty during potty training.  A few weeks later, it was time.  The moment she’d been waiting for since her kindergarten year was here.  Her tooth was finally loose enough to pullout.  We invited Lala (her grandmother)over and gathered around the table to watch the spectacle.  She was ready, she was excited, and she was prepared to pull it out herself.  There was no backing out.  It was on.  We counted to 3 and she pulled a few times but decided that Daddy’s help was necessary. He pulled on it once and it came shooting out.  Shocked and excited, we celebrated this milestone with her!  God’s time finally came! 

That night, we, I mean “the tooth fairy” paid her a visit.  She made $3 in quarters, just enough for a load of laundry at the Laundromat. Yes I know we, I mean “the tooth fairy” is a bit of a cheapskate.  “The tooth fairy” is also broke, okay people,don’t judge.  The next morning, Abi stormed into our room upset and crying. She explained how “the tooth fairy” took her tooth and left her money.  She explained how she’d waited so long to lose her first tooth and it wasn’t fair that “the tooth fairy” took her tooth.  Then she added, “Tell me the truth…was it Daddy?” This is a moment when a parenting manual would have been useful.  What do you say to a child?  I tried to answer without smiling, “well…um.What do you think?”  She said, “I don’t think fairies are real.”  Wow, okay so family meeting time…what do you do in this situation.  I said what any responsible parent would say,“Ask your daddy.”  After having “the talk”or at least the first talk of many, Zach and I found out that not only was the tooth fairy a kid’s parents sneaking into their room at night to give them money after losing a tooth, Santa Clause was also their parents and the Easter bunny was just some guy in a bunny suit. To our dismay, Abi figured all of this out doing her own research at school.    

I say all this because I know that ONE day I will no longer hear those 4 words seeping through the cracks of the bathroom door.  “Mom, wipe my butt!”  So I will take the advice that “they” give and concede to enjoy this season because like all the ones before it... this season will pass in God's time!  

Ecclesiastes 3:1 'For everything there is a season,

    a time for every activity under heaven.'

Stop being strong

“Not that I was ever in need, for I have learned how to be content with whatever I have. I know how to live on almost nothing or with everything. I have learned the secret of living in every situation, whether it is with a full stomach or empty, with plenty or little. For I can do everything through Christ, who gives me strength (Philippians 4:11-13).”

 

Many motivational posters, professional athletes or pastors have quoted this scripture to the point of it being a cliché.  Is it that God gives supernatural strength to Christian athletes because they are part of an elite group of people?  Could it be that perhaps these posters are like fortune cookies intended to give vague messages of hope to the masses?  Now that I’ve covered all the bases on basic “Christian-ese” overused expressions derived from this scripture.  I am going to take a look at the context of the scripture, which is generally a good place to start in understanding what it means.  

Paul was speaking to the church about their concerns for him.  I am sure by this time they had gotten wind of the various persecutions he had encountered in his missions.  His timing and reasons for the letter served as an encouragement to the church, not to worry, and to assure them that He was okay.  He was saying ‘look, I appreciate your concern, I understand how difficult it can be to trust in God at times but I know, that I know, that I know that God is with me.  Whether I have little or plenty, whether I am hungry or starving, whether I suffer or I flourish, I can do ALL these things through Christ because of His strength.’  (This is my paraphrase of course).  As we look at the heart of what Paul is trying to communicate to the church, we can see that he has found the secret to being content is found in God’s strength.  Paul was content in God’s ability to be greater than his current situation.  He recognized that apart from God, he could do nothing but with Christ nothing was impossible.

We learn three things form this scripture:

1. Life is hard.

I’d like to think of myself as a very independent woman most days.  I feel that my life experiences have prepositioned me to be this way.  Perhaps my rough upbringing, my personal disappointments, my educational and ministry setbacks have caused me to be somewhat of a fighter.  I think I’ve spent the majority of my life fighting.  I’ve fought for everything I have, and still find myself fighting.

A lady from the church approached me this week and asked me to pray for her friend who got into a severe accident and lost her husband of 30 years.  My eyes welled up with tears because I cannot imagine what this woman is going through.  I do not know what I’d do without my husband.  He’s my best friend who I can simultaneously love and be annoyed with.  He completes me and makes me a better person.  He drives me crazy with love and with frustration!  Yet I would be devastated if anything ever happened to him.  I’d be lost at the thought of doing life without him by my side. 

2. Stop being Strong.

A few weeks ago, my husband went down to Sturgis, SD to get into his first MMA fight.  If you’ve ever met Zach, you might agree with me, that he’s more of a “lover” than a “fighter” by design.  He is such a caring and compassionate man.  I am constantly encouraged to see the good in others through his lead.  When he first talked to me about doing this MMA thing, I have to admit my initial response was, “no!”  After several months of arguing about the issue, I asked him why he’d wanted to do it in the first place.  He had never been in a “real fight” before and he wanted to prove to himself that he could do it.  It was more of a bucket list item he desperately wanted to check off.  My reaction was, “hey, if you want to fight, let’s go to the parking lot right now, I’ll take off my chanklas (Spanish slang for flip flops), put my hair in a ponytail and we can do this thing!”  All joking aside, I could not understand what this meant to him.

When he left to Sturgis for the fight, I was worried.  I didn’t want him to get hurt.  I wanted so badly to talk him out of this wild idea.  I grew up watching violence.  I saw the negative effects of an abusive relationship between my parents.  I thought of all the fights I’d seen my brothers get in.  I remember a few of the neighborhood fights I’d been in.  I think for a minute I was brought back to my childhood, and faced with the issues that I’d had with fighting.  Stepping outside of my perspective and considering his reasons for wanting to fight.  I knew that it was different.  This was something that Zach needed to prove to himself.  He has always been the “peacemaker” in his family.  He’s always been the one to see both sides of a story and to think logically through a situation.  Taking that step back helped me appreciate his perspective even if I wasn’t completely comfortable with it. 

Where are we drawing our strength from?  I could see how I wasn’t fully trusting my husband’s judgment and I could see how this idea was negatively impacting me.  Many times our spiritual life mirrors the physical.  I had a hard time trusting God with my most prized possession.  Instead of finding strength in Christ I was trying to be the “strong one.” The key to being content in any situation whether it’s good, bad or ugly, is to draw our strength from Christ.  Maybe the very reason you feel weak is because God is asking you to “stop being strong.” 

 

3. Trust in Jesus.   

Getting back to the scripture, I can see how God has been working on my heart with the idea of trust. Part of me trusting in God with Zach fighting was for me to “stop fighting.”  I was reminded of one of my favorite proverbs, 3:5-6, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding.  Seek his will in all you do, and he will show you which path to take.” Where are we drawing our strength from?  The key to happiness is to lean on Him.  You can see God’s voice transcend throughout the old and new testament about this idea of trust.  The idea that His ways are better than ours, His understanding is greater than ours.  I believe He’s saying the same thing to us today.  Life is Hard, Stop being Strong, and Trust in Jesus.

 

Sometimes "Walk" is an answer!

Being in transition is never comfortable for me.  I would imagine that most people struggle with transition.  Remember puberty?  "Now, wasn't that a fun time!" said no one, ever.  Who doesn't love the awkward transitions your body went through during that time.  The acne, the voice changes, the unsightly new body modifications and associated odors.  For most of us, puberty was a time in our lives where we'd sooner forget than relive. Thus is the nature of transition.  It's awkward, slightly scary and full of uncertainty.

This is my senior year of my undergrad studies at UNC and I can't help but wonder what the future holds. I'm scared.  I hate feeling so out of control.  I hate not knowing what the future holds.  I hate not having it all together and figured out.  This year is also an election year, and in a few short months our country may be headed in a completely different direction.  For some of you, that time cannot come soon enough.  For others, it is a sobering thought.  Nonetheless, it seems that the media is bombarding us with rhetorical advertisements to try and sway our votes.  In many ways, this is the nature of the beast that is politics.  Many of us are going to make a decision based on the information we've been given.  Good, bad or ugly, we must decide what the next best choice is for our country.  I am curious to see what we choose.  

In the same way, I am at a crossroads in my own life.  I can feel the waves of change brush against my shoulders as I walk down this path set before me.  I am unsure of where that path will take me.  For now, the only word I've gotten is, "walk." I guess this word is more appealing than "run" or "stop."  All I know for sure is that I must "walk."  Que es "walk?"  Walking isn't very exciting.  Going through the motions of everyday life, being faithful with what you've been given are all part of "walking."  Walking out our faith in an everyday, practical, non-spiritual way is often times the most rewarding experience but we don't realize it until we can see how far we've come.  

Walking takes dedication, direction and drive.  All three of these must be working in compliance with one another.  Even before you set out on your "walk" you must determine within yourself to be dedicated.  I am not talking about the Christian practice of dedicating a baby, although that's a great place to start.  I am talking about a sincere dedication to the Lord.  It may start with a simple prayer of repentance but once you've taken this step it is only the beginning.  Dedicating your life to Jesus is only the primary response of someone who lives a dedicated life.  The very definition of dedication is: the quality of being dedicated or committed to a task or purpose.  I've heard it said that no one gets anywhere on accident.  It takes purpose to reach a destination.  If you purposefully "walk" toward your destination, you will not accidentally reach it.  In other words, if we are purposeful about where we are going, we will not be surprised at where we end up.  Many times it takes a deliberate move on our part.  For many of us, we must decide we are going to graduate, we must decide we are going to be good friends, we must decide we are going to be good stewards of our finances, we must decide we are going to be faithful spouses, or we must decide we are going to be obedient servants of the Lord.  All of these decisions are part of the "walk" we must take.  

The last part is often the most difficult to live out, it is the "drive." Which literally means "to be motivated or determined by a specifying factor or feeling."  What motivates you? Better yet, who motivates you?  I hope that there are people in your life who are willing to speak truthfully into your life.  I hope that there are people that not only know about the dedication and direction for your life but who are willing to be that "drive" for you when you feel too weak to finish the "walk" or when you've gotten lost along the way.  Sometimes it takes an outside perspective to remind us where we were headed in the first place especially if it seems like we've been traveling a long time.  Surround yourself with "driven" people.  Surround yourself with people who will motivate you to be better than your best!  

Learning to soar

I was overwhelmed by the encouraging responses from my friends and family about my first blog!  It was nice to know that I am not alone, and that there are others who can relate to my awkwardly stubborn submissions to the Lord.  It was interesting that this experience sort of ignited something within me.  It sounds strange, but there have been a few times in my life where I've had that feeling you know, the one where you think “Ah Ha!”  It was like an internal light bulb was tightened and I was able to see things a little more clearly.  I began to think of a caged bird.  Have you ever seen a caged bird?  You know like at the zoo or in the pet store or perhaps you have a bird as a pet.  If so, please don’t be offended by what I’m about to say, but a bird was not meant to be caged.  A bird was meant to be free, a bird was meant to fly, a bird, by design, was made to extend its wings and soar! 

So today was my kiddos first day of school.  I kept having the feeling of being unprepared leading up to the day.  Those who know me well, know that being unprepared is one of my biggest pet peeves.  I took them school shopping because that’s the cultural norm of American consumerism.  You must: buy them clothes they do not need, with money you do not have, to impress friends who do not care.  So there we are at JC Penny’s looking through the picked over clothes trying to find a particular shirt that Abi, my six year old, could not live without.  I had a thought, ‘Don’t do it!’  apparently it was more than a thought cause Abi responded by saying,”Don’t do what, Mom?”  “Don’t grow up!” I said.  She smiled and replied, “But MOM, I have to grow up!”

A few days later, we are writing the kids names on their school supplies with a Sharpie and the thought came again.  ‘Don’t do it!’   This time I talked to Zach about it, we carried on a conversation about how quickly it seemed like our kids had grown.  I remember thinking about how nice it would be when both of them were in school all day, and how I would be able to rediscover myself.  I would have time to devote to things I’d thought I put on hold to pursue a family in the first place.  It seemed like such a far off place.  It seemed like it would take forever to reach this distant almost mystical land.  But here I was overlooking the horizon.  I was so close I could smell it.  It scared me.  I wanted to hit rewind, and go back to a simpler time, where life made sense, where adventure and curiosity were not an option.

Last night, I had the thought again, ‘Don’t do it!’ and I sighed a motherly sigh of worry as I thought of the kids first day of school.  I wondered if they would enjoy it, I wondered if they would fit in, I wondered if they would make friends.  Of course they would, right?  Surely the world can see their potential as I see it, surely the world is willing to embrace them for their pure awesomeness as their mother does.  Right?  I worried, which is exactly the opposite of what I should do but most often my first response to any given situation.  I worried about things I couldn’t fix, change or control.  I felt myself carrying this burden that was too broad for my shoulders to bear. 

Today, as we were getting ready to leave the house I had that feeling that we forgot something.  Sure enough, the Zeigarnik Effect was in full force.  As soon as we pulled into the school parking lot, I remembered what it was, lunch!  How could a parent forget their child’s lunch? Mother of the Year!  We got down from the car,  went through the first day formalities, took pictures fought back tears, the whole nine.  Zekey, walked into his classroom bold and fearless, he started working on a puzzle and waved as we walked out of the room without shedding a single tear.  Abi also sat in her desk and began coloring as though she had found her place in this world.   As we walked out of the classroom, I thought, my biggest worries were dismissed so easily this morning.  The giant issue I was so worried about turned out to be a non-issue.  Besides forgetting lunch, all my worries and concerns were nothing more than a deflated balloon.  

Sometimes we limit God’s influence in our lives by worrying.  We often become like a caged bird, we forget that we were created to soar.  We were created to fly, or rise above our worries and limitations.  I thought of how unhealthy it would be if my children still slept in a bassinet.  When we brought them home from the hospital, they slept in a bassinet next to our bed for the first two months.  They would wake up every couple of hours, like most infants do needing to be fed.  After tending to their needs, we would nestle them into their safe little secure bed until their next feeding.  Imagine how strange it would be for 4 year old, or a 6 year old to sleep in a bassinet, besides the obvious discomfort of being crammed into the little bed.  They would not be able to grow, as most of our growing happens while we are sleeping.  If they were not given room to grow, this would be detrimental to their overall health and wellbeing.  They would become like a caged bird. 

 

A few years ago, I watched the movie Rio.  It’s an animated film about a blue Macaw that was illegally captured in Rio De Janeiro, Brazil and became an American household pet.  Blue, the main character, was a bird that had been caged his whole life.  He didn’t know how to fly, and enjoyed the comfort of his own cage.  Although, he had attempted to learn to fly on his own before, he had never been “pushed out of the nest” so to speak.  He had never been challenged to attempt it, until his life depended on it.  He didn’t know his full potential until he was forced to confront it.  We all have things in our lives that hold us back from reaching our potential we disguise them in things like worry or fear of failure.  Like a caged bird, we hold on to the comfort of the known, for fear of the unknown all the while dreaming of what it would be like to soar. 

I've been told that Eagles build their nests with thorns and cushion them with feathers.  Soon after their eggs hatch, the mama Eagle begins removing feathers from the nest.   One by one, a feather is removed and the eagle begins to experience discomfort.  Eventually the nest becomes so uncomfortable that the eagle never returns, because it has outgrown the nest.  Are there areas in your life that you’ve outgrown?  Are there things that you need to let go of?  Have you been carrying a burden too broad for your shoulders?  Letting go, stepping out in Faith, and trusting in God are never comfortable steps only necessary ones for growth.  Without change growth is impossible!

Crying isn't always a bad thing

Ok, so here I am taking the plunge.  I’ve decided to start my own blog.  As a child, I was in GT creative writing classes.  Go me!  I thought that maybe it had to do with having a bigger imagination as a child or perhaps that my imaginary world was more appealing than my reality.  In many ways, writing has always been an escape.  I think that for me writing is my art, subjective, vulnerable and a bit sporadic but in every way expressive.  I’ve always dreamt of writing books for inspiration, children’s series (in which I already have a few short stories).  I figured the only way for me to grow in this area is to subject it to others, and to God.  Yes, I believe in God most days.  I have tried to find fulfillment in many other things but they have all left me longing for more, something deeper.   So with the nudge from my BBFF and my husband, I am walking down this path.

            Last night, I sat with my husband on our living room (uncomfortable) couch and cried.  Yes, literally cried.  This doesn’t sound unusual, a woman, crying.  Except it sort of is unusual for me, it’s true, something strange happened when God created me and my husband.  Zach is more of the sensitive one whereas I’d like to think I’m the more sensible one.  I think we both defy the gender stereotypes when it comes to crying or being sentimental.  In fact one year around our anniversary time, Zach called me saying, “Guess what today is?”  I thought ‘oh no, it’s not our anniversary is it?’  Had I truly forgotten the importance of the day?  Well it ended up being the first day we met or kissed or something.  I still have trouble remembering the significance in that particular day. 

I grew up in house full of boys, being the only girl, perhaps I picked up a few habits from them like my crying intolerance. I’m not saying that I don’t appreciate when other’s cry, because I truly believe that crying is part of God’s healing process.  I am simply saying that somewhere along the line I’ve forgotten the importance of crying.  I am not talking about when you stub your toe and accidentally let out a few loud lewd words and alligator tears…followed by asking for forgiveness of course! J 

The type of crying that I’m talking about is the type of emotion that comes after a complete loss of words.  The type of crying that is found in a place of hopelessness and loss.  I’ve been in this place a few times before.  And every time I find myself there again, I am at a loss for words.  It’s like I am suddenly that lost little girl again longing for an escape.  I desperately want to have it all together and be eloquent in my approach to God but somehow I feel so inadequate. I feel as though, I don’t want to bother him with my petty little issues because he’s had a long, hard day at work.   I think that my perception of God stems from my perception of men. 

This has been a unique summer filled with its fair share of personal breakthroughs and personal heartbreaks. It seems that these two often complement one another in an oddly unique way.  I’ve had personal breakthrough, a redefined purpose and a renewed faith in God.  It has not come cheap.  I’ve always heard old time preachers say that salvation is free but serving the Lord costs you everything you’ve got.  I agree. When you invite God to be an integral part of your life, he really does move in and take residence.  Like newlyweds you sort through one another’s junk to establish what should be kept, except God doesn’t have junk.  It becomes difficult when you realize that you are the one who has do the “changing.”  So there you are in that desolate place between your pride and your freedom.  The place where you need to be but don’t want to be. 

This is the place I found myself last night, on our uncomfy couch tucked away into my husband’s arms, crying as the song Redeemed by Big Daddy Weave (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VzGAYNKDyIU) repeated over and over on our playlist.  I cried about the things I don’t understand.  I cried about the things that I figured would happen by now but haven’t.  I cried about the discomfort of the unknown.  I could not hold back the tears in this vulnerable place I found myself in, so I just cried.  After drenching my husband’s t-shirt with tears, I found the strength to get up off the uncomfy couch and move on.   The verse that rang in my ears was, “Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly (Matthew 11:27-29, The Message).” 

Works Cited

The Message. (1993-1996, 2000-2002). Matthew 11: 27-29;passage lookup. Retrieved August 13, 2012, from Biblegateway.com: http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Matthew+11:27-29&version=MSG

Weave, B. D. (Composer). (2012). Redeemed. [Big Daddy Weeve, Performer]

(The Message, 1993-1996, 2000-2002)

(Weave, 2012)