.I'm Scared.

I have been putting off writing this post. I think I was hoping that the feelings would fade or change, but they haven't. I leave for Ethiopia in three weeks, for my first ever third world country mission trip, and I'm scared. It's kind of funny, I have been to Ethiopia twice, and I fell in love with the country, the culture, and even more - the people. I truly love Ethiopia, and I am beyond excited to go back to a place that feels oddly very much like home.

But mingled in with that excitement is very real, very big, ugly fear.

I have never hidden the fact here that I am a big, fat, fraidy cat. I have mentioned it over and over. Fear is one of the biggest sin issues in my life. It crippled my walk with Jesus Christ for most of my life. I battle it daily. There are a lot of reasons why I could be scared to go on a mission trip. I am leaving my three children behind (one of whom has severe special needs and has only ever been left over night once since bringing him into our care), I am flying across the ocean, I am going to be exposed to parasites and diseases and filth, my comfort level will be shattered, I will see things that will haunt me for the rest of my life, my level of comfort in my American Christianity will again, no-doubt, be questioned, I will be sleep-deprived and emotional, etc. etc. But, oddly enough, none of that is what has my heart pounding in fear. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that missions and spreading the gospel is God's will for every single disciple of Jesus. I know that He is asking me to love Him more than my children, and get on that plane, and go to Ethiopia. I know that this stay-at-home-mama needs her routine shaken up a bit in order to be used to advance the kingdom. I am at peace with all of that.

I have been praying over this trip. I have prayed for God to change me, to mold me more into His image, to allow me to be used for His kingdom, and I have even been praying those words that I so earnestly prayed last year before going to Ethiopia the first time. It was easier praying that prayer last year, before I understood the depth of the pain and hurt that comes with God answering that prayer.

God, break my heart for the things that break yours.

But even as I pray those words and prepare my heart, I have been holding onto a little corner of my heart - trying to hide it and keep it safe.

Because I am scared that it may really happen. I am scared that God is going to break my heart all over again. Just when things are settling into a more comfortable rhythm with our family, just when Habi is on the verge of possibly joining our family, could I really go through any of this again? I am scared that God may have another "Jamesy" or "Habtamu" in mind for me on this trip. And as much as I love those two boys with every inch of my heart and would never trade a second of knowing, loving, and fighting for them, I'm not ready to have my heart broken for another person. How can I possibly shed another tear for another fatherless child? I am afraid that my heart cannot take it again. I am not sure if I even want my heart messed up again. I am so sensitive and tenderhearted. I still have nightmares from what I witnessed a year and a half ago on my first trip to Ethiopia. I was not cut out for this kind of stuff. God gave me the gift of empathy, but that gift has morphed into something out of my control these past three years. I am not certain that I want to make myself look like more of a weirdo, or lose friendships over my intensity, empathy, and passion. I'm kind of ready to just fit in again, but I guess even going on this mission trip as a mommy of three littles takes me out of the running of fitting in. That's just not something most responsible mommies in my kind of church do. Teenagers, sure, but mommies?? Somewhere along the way I have turned into someone very abnormal. I am not sure how that happened to this perfectly contented to be, once upon a time, wallflower.

Even as I write this, I am getting more clarity, as I finally put these rambling thoughts into words and they flow from my fingers, I realize that this whole fear thing is wrapped tightly up in self. This has nothing to do with me. My response has been all wrong. What if God had decided that He did not want to "mess up" His own heart? What would my life look like if God had not loved me when I was so unlovable? What if He had said, Enough, I cannot take it anymore. It's too heart breaking, too messy, to love one more person.

I am not a hero. I am not a rescuer. I don't have a "white man burden" or savior complex.  I can never save the world or even just all of the fatherless children. I know that, and it's not my job. I am not even a good Christian or so spiritually mature.

I am just a shy, fearful, cautious, homebody, stay-at-home-mommy, who was shown the deep, deep love of Jesus. And that love is moving my feet - clumsily at times.

And even if it breaks my heart all over again - it's not about me. I don't want to miss out on what really matters in this life. I don't want to miss out on God's best for me in exchange for something really good. Even if I am made an outcast in the mommy circles. Even if it hurts, and is hard, and costs me and changes me in ways that are uncomfortable, and yes, even if God has in mind for me another "Jamesy" or another "Habi", it is the right thing to do. It is right to make my heart vulnerable to whatever and whomever it is that God has me going on this trip to Ethiopia for. Because this is not about me. This is about advancing God's kingdom and bringing glory to God!

So, I am doing it. For now, I am doing it scared.

But I'm doing it.

.To the Deep End.

Yesterday was one of those hard days. The ones we all have. You know, the kind where you feel so weak, defeated, and soul tired that you stay in your pajamas all day long and cry buckets of tears. Oh, wait, am I the only one who has days like that?? And truthfully I would rather not share that I am weak and human, and have days like this, but pretending does not glorify God. So I will not pretend to have it all together - to be perfect. We have a lot of things swirling around our family right now - heavy and hard things. Things that could so easily shake our faith, and distract us from keeping our eyes fixed on Jesus Christ and his glorious purpose for our family. I went to bed Sunday evening, believing I had reached the breaking point of what I could handle. Perhaps that was the problem, although I knew all of the platitudes and even all of the truths, and I do believe them, truths like His yolk is easy and His burden is light, I think in a small way I was still trying to handle everything being heaped upon our family - in my own strength.

When I awoke yesterday morning to Cadi running into our bedroom with a bloody nose (a possible sign that her I.T.P had flared up again), something inside me just gushed wide open. It was all too much - three sick children again, extended family situations and the breath taking pain that comes from those, ministry stuff, situations with our street boy, and the list mounts. I used to believe that God only gives us what we can handle - I've even ignorantly spouted that to people going through difficult times, but after searching the Scriptues to back this platitude up, I cannot find that thought anywhere. I think God does gives us more than we can handle, to show us that it is only His strength in us that can survive the hardest moments. He gives us more than we can handle so that the only option is to let Him handle it. Because honestly there is not a single trial that I can handle on my own. Without the power of Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit living in me, I would be swept under a current of despair.

So yesterday was hard. While waiting for Cadi's platelet count to come in to learn whether or not she was having an I.T.P. flare up, one more heartbreaking item was heaped on our heads. I think it was in that moment, as I could almost physically feel my heart break, I fully surrendered all of this. I have absolutely no control and no power over any of this, save the power of Jesus Christ in me. The Holy Spirit knew what I needed, and he whispered into a sister's heart, and she listened and was at my doorstep within an hour of learning our latest news. She entered my pain, like she had done so many times before in the past two years. We came before our Father together, united in prayer, and His sweet grace gently blew into every single bruised and bleeding piece of my heart. Just a little over two years ago, I would have never allowed this kind of friendship. My girlfriends were far and few between, and they were kept at an arm's length. I only let them see the good stuff. That mask I talked about a few posts back was on securely when it came to my friendships. But God has used this girlfriend among other precious girlfriends to show me what freedom can be found in authentic relationships. The kind of friendships that are not afraid to crash your home, turn a blind eye to unswept floors, and hold you in your unshowered, pajama-clad, bed haired, possibly even stinky mess. For the first time in my life, I am letting women - people - inside of my heart - the raw, broken, unperfect crevices of my heart. For me it has been a long and slow process. It started with blogging transparently, and at times my heart still races and my palms still sweat as I anticipate publishing this kind of thing for the "world".  And then it was facebook that God started to break my walls down with - little statuses that were filled with the authentic Tiffany, and then they snowballed into more and more transparency as I got bold enough to petition for prayers, and started baring our life instead of hiding it away. And finally it is unfolding into those real, authentic face-to-face friendships, for me the path had to look like this. I needed to start in the shallow end and gently make my way to the deep end, and at times, I still retreat back to the shallow, but because of God's grace I have not gotten out of the pool and hidden myself inside a towel in a very long time. For some personalities, diving into the deep end will be all it takes.

As I ramble on so far away from what I sat down to originally write (so far away - that I will have to change my original title and write about that some other day - love, love, love how the Holy Spirit guides and directs even my fingers as they are flying over these keys), I just want to encourage you to make your way to the deep end - to real, intimate, authentic relationships. God gives grace in this area, and perhaps you are like me and will need to ease in slowly dipping your toes to test the waters, but just start, just do it. Just lay your life open - there is a difference between privacy and secrecy. I believe that there are moments that God gives us with Him, with our family, with our friends that should be kept private, although I also believe they are farther and fewer between than our American culture dictates (because being a disciple of Jesus and wanting to disciple others, our lives are a living example. How could this be true if we are not openly sharing them?), but I also strongly believe that there is no room for secrets and masks between brothers and sisters in the family of Jesus. There should be no dissonance between word and spirit, no pretense. When we live a transparent life before others we are revealing Jesus in us and we are acknowledging that every good thing is from God! To live this way, we have to reveal what is on the inside. It takes courage and faith to unveil our true selves, in spite of imperfections. We are a walking, talking, breathing billboard for God's amazing grace!

When we become a follower of Jesus, we die to self, and our life no longer belongs to us - NONE of it! God cannot use what we keep secret and hidden. It's risky to make ourselves vulnerable like this. I get it. even now as I close out this post I hesitate and feel my heart pound, wanting to get out of the pool and dive under my towel. That's easier. But what if the Holy Spirit has prompted this post for you to read, and I ignore that prompting? Seems kind of selfish of me. Transparency requires humility and grace and courage, and they all come from Christ in us.

With the arrival of Jesus, the Messiah, that fateful dilemma is resolved. Those who enter into Christ's being-here-for-us no longer have to live under a continuous, low-lying black cloud. A new power is in operation. The Spirit of life in Christ, like a strong wind, has magnificently cleared the air, freeing you from a fated lifetime of brutal tyranny at the hands of sin and death. Romans 8:1-2


To be transparent - to fully immerse ourselves in the deep end, we need to focus on Him alone.



....just because this post needs a photo. {grin} Unrelated to anything written here, though. And for all who are wondering, Cadi's platelet count came in great! Praise God! My three children have been sick for several days now, but they seem to be on the upswing. Thankful for God's all-consuming grace. Our family could still use a lot of prayer right now. The enemy is working over-time, but my God will prevail!

.A Mutiny Against Monotony.

It was a restless night of sleep, and the dawn barged in, an unwelcome guest. I pulled the covers tight, resisting the sameness that spread before me. But there was no stopping this. The day rose up to meet me with dirty dishes left in the sink after opening our home the night before. Greasy, caked on gunk waiting for me. Dishes that I have probably cleaned thousands of times, only to without fail, find them in the bottom of my sink, yet again.



Morning tasks. So much the same as the morning before.



I tried to breathe out the thankfulness, as I walked by the full laundry basket also begging me to put its contents away. The same laundry that I had washed and dried and put away last week and the week before that. And I am thankful for this, for warm house, clean clothes, children, husband, life. But my heart beat out the monotony, and threatened to bite the thankfulness.

Tedious.

Repetition.

Monotony - doing the same thing over and over and over again.

Beds to be made. The same beds as yesterday.



Toys to be placed back in the toy room, again.



Most days I embrace this, wrap my arms around this - mommying at home, teaching and training my littles, making my home a welcome, safe, soft landing. But sometimes, in the crevices of my heart I want to start a mutiny against monotony.

God, I want to be great in your kingdom and do great things for eternity. I want my days to really count. I want to do something BIG, RADICAL, GRAND. I want to make a difference.

Some days are too much and not enough all wrapped together in a tight contradiction.

Little boys who need haircuts and noses wiped and diapers changed and clothes put on and tickles and affection and an intentional, attentive Mommy. (And a tree that still needs to be taken down.)





A little girl that has been sick since Thanksgiving and needs so much of me.



The constant checking for bruises and bleeding and signs.





The monotony that is becoming this sickness and the praying that the sameness ends.

It all whispers lies of smallness to me.

I am so small, doing nothing that counts. Ethiopia is always on my heart. If only God would send us there - ask us to sell it all, abandon it all to follow Him. That would dissipate the monotony, and then and there could I do something truly great.

Just as a real mutiny against monotony is rising in my heart, my eyes catch the eyes of the three children entrusted to me. This matters. This monotony is what He has called me to right now. Inside these four walls, there is kingdom work being done, here at my desk as my fingers fly across these letters, ministry is taking place. Through Christ in me, I am modeling the next generation and praying them into greatness for His kingdom.

This is BIG, RADICAL, and GRAND, because this is my calling right now. This is my ministry - to do the monotonous, to be a godly wife first and then a godly mommy. To live as daughter of the King, right inside my home, folding laundry, kissing boo-boos, washing dishes, changing diapers, checking fevers, teaching Jesus, singing, dancing, cooking - this is kingdom work because as much as I love my family, it is not really them that I am serving - it's the Lord.

And that is making a difference.

And maybe one of these tomorrows, God will change up the monotony - maybe He will choose to send us to Africa someday or maybe not. Regardless, no matter where I am, there will be monotony. For in the sameness is when I must purpose to choose the joy and thankfulness - and do the monotony with all of my heart, and when that choice is made it is counting for eternity.

Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men, since you know that you will receive and inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving. (emphasis mine) Colossians 3:23-24