on being ready

The other day I wrote about Whimsy.

And as I wrote it I thought about different perspectives. I questioned whether I should write what I did. Because it was partly about consuming and not being practical.

I thought about people who don't even have a car, or maybe theirs is so broken down. Or maybe they are finding themselves standing in a line for food stamps, and their pride being naked. I started to feel badly for my wanting to go on vacation next spring and rent a house on an island on the southeast coast with a handful of friends and their families.

And then I wondered if I was feeling badly only because I should or if I really did feel badly.

Then I got a few highlights in my hair when I got a trim. A choice I said I'd never make. And $70 later I felt sick to my stomach. Because, I wasted. I truly did.

There are people in this world who don't have clean water to drink. It's true, and not just something that is made up to sound like a remarkable story. Contrary to my once naive perspective, clean water isn't everywhere. There are people in our surrounding areas who don't know where they will get their next meal. And there are children who don't have a mom or dad to tuck them in at night or talk with them about life's questions.

Real people are hurting. And I spent all of that money on changing the color of a few strands of my hair?! If I go on that vacation, what then? I'll just want More and never be satisfied.

Disappointment always resides with desire when we make the plans, 
     because our plans will never be perfect.

I don't feel guilty for buying a MINI. I realize it's a gift. And the moment I forget that is when I should feel bad. I'm not proposing everyone's whimsy is to go buy their dream car. It was okay for me and I've felt peace about it.

But awakening the other day after having a long talk with our neighbor-friend about his recent trip to that dream island, I suddenly lost interest in spending my money that way. And it's how God showed up most poignantly in my day.

He is changing me. 

I spent most of the summer complaining that we didn't have plans to go away. We had one weekend get-away and it was when I was sick. I didn't want that trip to count. Beaches and light houses were in my *hopeful* vision. But it just never happened.

Instead, I sat in a quiet forest of trees feverish and fatigued, and I don't think I'll ever forget it. My family cared and together we were, and that's all that matters.

Eventually, I chose gratefulness for that one trip and even my four-week-long bout of sickness.

Because, if it were up to me I'd consume. Even heaps of memories instead of a few big meaningful ones.

The week's when I was sick in the middle of summer were ones where He slowed me. It was the time when my heart was being prepared for something different. My plans were being shredded and I was being readied to accept His.

I'm considering what it means to be ready for whatever He invites me to do.

Awhile back I surrendered birthing another child and even having another one altogether. This is my Anything, as I pray "Whatever you have planned for me, Lord..." I pray this over and over again because sometimes I pick up my plans instead of resting in His. Only He knows if I will ever have another child and whether we'll adopt or have another of our own. For now, I surrender to any. thing. 

I'm seeing life as invitations. And choosing Less is one of them. A simpler life.

My son has an interest in travel and culture. And I wonder what that means. I don't feel compelled to travel for the sake of crossing it off my bucket list as I once did. But I wonder if we'll be traveling to help others and who those *others* will be.

I have to be careful not to chagrin other people's choices when my perspective gets altered. And not even myself when my perspective seems too over-the-top.

He leads us all in different ways and we each have a unique story to live.

I want my desires to be His. 

Sometimes I get nervous that I'll miss out when I don't actively pursue my dreams all the time. But, I choose to trust that He leads me to choose whimsy at the moments that are right for my story, when my living is indeed by His leading and not by my planning.

Evidence of Him. That's what all of this is about. And it's incredibly remarkable.

Thank you, Father, for the ways you are drawing me closer to your heart.

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{Grace} Unwrapped...

...a different kind of summer...

...how two weeks at home quieted me to listen...

...the way He's readying me...

...and how I don't need to know for what...

...the Peace He gives me...

...and how I am leaning into it more...

...the ways I am more able to trust Him...

...and how I see Him...

...the way my heart bubbles with joy...

...and most of all, gratitude for every part of my story...

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Prepared and Ready

She takes a deep breathe...

This weekend is a big one. It's the weekend we're coming home, in a way. It's a transitional weekend in which it feels like Christmas, Thanksgiving, my Birthday, and my Anniversary all wrapped up in one. Kind of like birthing a child, this weekend is a culmination of preparation, anxiousness, excitement, fear, and readiness.

I have unpacked casserole dishes that I haven't used in 12 months, and as such it feels like Christmas.

I will cross the threshold of my new house as a changed person, and for that it feels like my Birth-day again.

I have a strong marriage that has been tested and strengthened by an incredible experience, and it is like we our celebrating our Anniversary for how we've grown together through this.

For the past ten months, my family has lived with eight unique teenage boys who I constantly was reminded were all lovingly and deliberately crafted by God. Their families chose to give them a better chance by sacrificing time with them to have them live hundreds of miles away and attend a school with a better reputation in a safer environment than the one they first knew. In the process, the boys learn much more than academics, and they are given something that only a few would ever experience. The scholars experience a different community, learn about unconditional love and acceptance, forgiveness, discipline, respect, communication, and so much more. They learn to take care of the house they are provided with as their home for four years. They learn to live alongside seven other scholars - two graduating each year and two more coming in as first year high schoolers. They learn to adapt to new house parents who may or may not have children, and who may or may not be sacrificing much of their own life, and who most likely stand ready and willing to serve in any capacity to mentor, guide and help these young and maturing lives.

Grace and Freedom were discovered in my life during this experience. Yet it wasn't this experience alone that led me to it, it was so many other steps leading up to it and this just happened to be what I was walking in the day I heard the walls begin to crumble.

This has been a huge experience for my family. For my marriage. For my son. For my husband. And for me. So. Much. Bigger. Than. I. Ever. Imagined. So. Much.

And so, when my husband ultimately made the final decision that we would not be returning to live in the house again next year, (even in spite of our initial hopes to follow a class all four years before we'd even spent one whole day in the house,) my feelings were much different than they are now. The decision was made mid-way through the school year and we still had so much more to go. I was torn between such self-inflicted guilt and a certain longing for our own private and much more quieter family life.

From then until now I have been preparing for this move; this transition. And God has been preparing me even before any of this ever became a possibility for me, which is reassuring to know that He sees all things and prepares us more than we can possibly understand. My heart ached for several of the boys who we invested our lives into, and who we cared deeply for. I felt a certain responsibility for them and I clung to them. The reality is probably that much of my clinging was out of a sense of obligation and the thought that shouldn't I have bittersweet feelings about leaving? shouldn't I feel sad to go? And the lie: I shouldn't want to go. I needed to come to a place where I realized it is okay to be ready.

And so now I am. Now I am ready for what's next in my family's life, and in my own life. I. Am. So. Ready! Not because I've recently had a difficult experience with one of the boys or because of innumerable annoyances. I am ready because God has taught me something in the process of preparing me. He has taught me that He alone deserves our entire heart and when we cling too tight, even to those He's given us love for, we're putting them above Him. He wants to fill our heart. And so, when I realized that I can love and care for others, yet I can keep myself a bit detached, because my real attachment is to Christ-alone, I can exhale and receive such peace.

And so I exhale.

Now I am ready. I am ready to move out of the house where I've learned so much more than I could ever give to anyone. I am ready to see how our relationships with the boys stick, or change through the years, or dissolve altogether. I am ready to trust that God had a purpose for this experience and that nothing is wasted. I am ready to surrender that I am not their savior, but He is their Heavenly Father and Savior, and to pray that they each receive Him in their hearts, and that those who already do know Him only know Him more. I am ready for what's next. In my life. In my family's life. And in the boy's lives.

It's time. God's prepared me and He's promised that this is only the beginning. When I think of how awesome of an experience the past 10 months have been, it brings me to tears. He has so much more waiting for me in the experiences that God has designed for me that I haven't yet gotten to. Experiences in which I will know Him even more.

...And so she breathes deeply and this time she exhales peace. And it feels Heavenly.