I'd rather be in a battle of praise

04 November 2010

Praiseworthy things for today:
  • Mama-bears! You know who you are and the sacrificial and Christ-like way you love.
  • Children who jump up and down when you come home.
  • A temp job, to help pay for some terribly expensive dental work.
  • Car-pooling with the sister for a week.
  • Hearing from the other sister, sometimes I miss her without realizing it. :)
  • Celebrating a year-old church plant with new friends in a city I love.
  • The baby tearing up things just because... he is so curious!
  • The ability to turn to God for whatever, whenever.
  • Friends a world away who you sometimes catch in the middle of the night on Facebook.
  • Free speech.
  • The gift of writing. I'm so thankful Ms Davis and Mrs Jeter told me to write all those years ago.
  • Hope amid sadness and troubling times.
  • A new governor for Kansas, one of the few republicans who defends the oppressed and fights for social justice.
  • Hearing the voice of God through wordless music.
  • Missions Sunday coming up and the chance to sing my heart.
  • A funny friend who makes all things silly and fun, or serious, when they need to be. But mostly fun.
  • Working out and losing weight and feeling positive about my health.
  • The man being home. I truly did miss him more than my macbook.
  • The boy, who can't wait to sign his name on a letter to God.
  • The girl, who keeps me on my toes and lets me brush her hair.
  • The baby, who cuddles after naps. 
  • Thanksgiving's soon arrival, and with it a family gathering of most of my favourite people. I can't wait till heaven when every family gathering will include every family member... oh, it will be fun. :)

I think today I could go on and on. Because God is good and speaks to us if we listen. And sometimes speaks to us even when we're not listening. He surprises me that way. I'm not the best listener... so glad He knows me.


A frustrating time

02 November 2010

I'm ready to go home now. Five months back and I'm ready to go home. Now.

The husband is in Wisconsin for what I'm terribly afraid will be a fruitless missions conference. It's hard to convince the mega church that people in modern western Europe are in as dire need for a Saviour as the rest of the world is. Especially when the "rest of the world" is within a 5 mile radius of the church and is also in dire need of a state-of-the-art work out facility and wedding chapel and climbing wall... I could go on and on. Nevertheless, I hold out a wee bit of hope, because I want to go home.

I'm with the children in Missouri, cut off from communication with husband because of very rather dodgy internet reception (and a jacked-up phone). The internet has been this way for months now, and makes working and communicating with coworkers and friends a world away quite impossible. But every day, we try to again, because we want to go home.

The children are rebelling against me. They know the disciplinarian (and also the fun one) has gone missing, so that leaves me - the weak one with the short fuse - attempting to hold things together. The girl screams at me from time to time, the boy looks at me so disappointingly when I've let him down (most recently because of a forgotten darth vader mask and light saber on halloween), and the baby follows me from room to room crying and hanging onto my leg because I'm all he's got left. Add to this no-sleeping and a bit of bed-wetting, and we're all suffering the ill effects of a change in routine. They feel encumbered by our current living and working and schooling situation, because they too want to go home.

A distant family member continues to try and sabotage our work by communicating with our organization - this time with the president of the organization - over an issue she has which is actually quite important: a tattoo. She makes phone calls, writes letters, and makes terribly loathing insinuations about us and our calling - and even our ethics - to anyone who will hear her. Happily, I think people are done hearing her, realizing that she's fighting for the losing side in a battle of spiritual nature. But still, the pettiness and sadness and humiliation over the whole things makes me want to run away, straight back home.

And finally, this teeny tiny computer I'm typing this on. Not my computer, but the man's (who has mine to wow the important people with in WI). It's small and slow and every once in awhile a new window pops up or a search engine - I'm fairly sure I didn't do that. Or it goes to sleep, or beeps at me. The text on the window randomly gets bigger, or smaller, or disappears altogether. It's driving me crazy! Unfortunately, it's an inanimate object so can't long for home, but it does allow me to blame one more thing on being here.

In spite of all this, I'm glad to have my family. Loving a new church. Glad to have fall colours in a familiar place. Happy to shop and eat wherever I so choose. Blessed by things all over the place. But there's an Irish weight hanging over me. It follows me wherever I go, hovers around whoever I'm talking to. It sleeps in the bed between me and the man and whichever little person is there for the night. It sits in my Bible when I open it, echoing every word.

It says, "You are not home."

*rereading this I feel like I complain too much and praise too little. I hate this about my writing, feel like it's a recurring theme. These, however, are my feelings, true and raw, today. Tomorrow, hopefully, prayerfully, I will write of the praiseworthy things I often forget to mention. Thank you God for letting us complain to you, and forgiving us of our selfishness. Teach me how to praise.