Persistence

     Romans 12:12 

Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer.

     When I launched Mighty Strong Girls four years ago, I wrongly assumed that because I was acting on the will of God that life would suddenly get better and easier. 

     Some things did. Partners quickly emerged. Prayers were answered. 

     But not everything was easy. Most of all, my personal growth and development. I had a long way to go to really prepare my heart and mind for this ministry work. 

     Why I didn't think I needed to transform just shows my spiritual immaturity. 

     I mean, think about it. Most all of those great men and women of the Bible who worked in the will of God had a period of preparation and trials that tested their perseverance. Moses tried to argue with God that he wasn't qualified. Nobody thought David would be God's chosen king for a nation. God called him at a young age, but he wouldn't become king for many, many years. During his journey of preparation, David's brothers mocked him for thinking he could go up against Goliath; Saul doubted him. 

     Sadly, attacks on ministry don't just come from the world. God's own people were some of the worst critics of those who were doing His work. Not even Jesus escaped criticism — some from his own earthly family. Judas betrayed Him; Peter denied Him.

     If Jesus had to overcome temptation and trials to complete His ministry, why do we think it will be any easier for us?  

     Discouragement is everywhere. And when it comes, it rains down on our desire to persevere.  How many of us want to quit (jobs, sports, diets, church, etc.) when things get hard? How often do we want to walk away when things seem too overwhelming? How many times do we want to let someone else carry the load when it seems to unbearable? 

     I'm reminded that to persevere in ministry, as in life, I must be persistent. How can I be persistent? As the scripture above states, I must not only never give up, but I must also be patient and in a constant state of prayer. 

     Often when I'm facing a major shaking in my life, as I am now, I sense from God that it's time to turn to Him in prayer. That perhaps I've turned away from Him or let my prayer life fade or that it's time to take my prayer to a new level. 

     It's time for me to get away so I can wait. To run off with my Bible and prayer journal, to spend time with my Beloved, who calls on me. It's time to be persistent — not just in doing His work. Sometimes we wrongly put the emphasis on what we can do: the busy work of crossing things off a list. But what He wants isn't our work, it's our relationship with Him. Persistence cannot be carried out without His guidance. I can't be guided without a relationship. I can't cross things off my list without Him. Sometimes, quite frankly, to persist we must simply stop. Stop doing so much. Stop relying on ourselves. Stop trying to control. 

     To wait on the Lord, as He says in His word, is to know Him. Persistently, I must wait patiently and in prayer.     

     Be honest. Doesn't that seem so much easier than trying to run and do and cross things off a list? Why do we think our Lord and Savior wants to create more work for us when all He really desires is that we wait and listen for Him? He is all we ever need.  

The long awaited sonogram didn't provide the answers we were hoping for!

      I wasn't prepared for this. 
     Well, maybe a little. 
     A week before I stood staring with my jaw drooping to the floor, positive pregnancy test in hand, we finally made a decision to move forward with adoption. In an all-new way. All four of us decided we were equipped to handle a baby. We could logistically do it. We were mentally and emotionally prepared. We would go through classes and become a foster family to a newborn. It was settled. 
     And then the unthinkable happened. Six weeks shy of my 41st birthday I discovered that the two missed periods weren't symptomatic of pre-menapause. Or some fluke.
     Immediately, my doctor sprung into action. Blood test in the next three hours. Immediate appointment. She even came in at 8 a.m. on the first morning of her week off to see me. 
     Because. Because of my age, I am HIGH RISK. 
     Frankly, it seemed like more hype than necessary. I just ran a 10-mile race — seven more miles than I'd ever ran consecutively before 2014. I was down 22 pounds and feeling better than I did when I was in my 20s! I felt WAY more healthy than I did in my early pregnancies with the other two. 
     Didn't matter. Statistically speaking, I have a higher rate of complications. So does the baby. 
     Speaking of the baby's risks, I had taken prednisone in early December for a freaky outbreak of poison oak or ivy that was all over my arm and face. It was not a super high dose, but it wasn't a low dose either. 
     My doctor looked at the dates and decided rather than send me to a neonatal specialist, she would check closely for birth defects at our sonogram at 20 weeks. Specifically she mentioned mid-line birth defects of the heart, spine and possible cleft lip/palate. 
     That day came on Monday, and I was certain beyond a shadow of a doubt that God was going to show up and the results would indicate what a perfect baby I was carrying. That He would give me peace and comfort that the medicine hadn't done damage. 
     I should have known better. 
     She was wiggly and uncooperative. She spun to put her back to the "camera" and there were no good images to be had of her heart, lower spine or face. Everything else they could see just fine, especially the fact that she is a SHE. Except the places where we wanted reassurance. 
     I was angry. Because a few weeks earlier I had read a study that sonogram technology has been linked to autism/ADHD/neurological issues. I decided on the spot that we wouldn't do another one. So God HAD to show up. Right? Ugh! So why had he abandoned me?
     We had a wonderful chat with our doctor, who was honest and admitted there are risks doing another sonogram. She didn't do all the recommended sonograms on her own pregnancy. She supported our decision after she had already told us that everything they could see on the images suggested that this baby is very, very healthy. So am I and so is the pregnancy. 
     Dan and I have peace in that if there is a defect, we live in a community with the very best doctors and medical resources. Our girl will be fine. We will be fine. Even if everything isn't perfect. 
     Life is really never perfect anyhow. It's a little broken. And a little messy. And a little unpredictable. And a lot challenging. 
     Which is why we (especially me!) NEED God. That's where I should have known better. Each time I make a step of faith, I find myself in an imperfect spot. In other words, just because I trusted God and He helped me through a situation doesn't mean He's done with me. 
     Instead, there's another step I must take. Sometimes a bigger one or a harder one than the last. It's simple really. If I didn't need Him, I might let go. But He isn't letting me. This sonogram result is really a gift, reminding me that no matter how smart technology is and no matter how much I think I can handle something on my own, I'm really hopeless and helpless without Him by my side. 
     As I worked through my anger with Him for not providing this reassurance, this answer to prayer, I realized sometimes He's answering even bigger prayers of ours. I would never want to be estranged from Him, especially in my hardest hours. Especially as I continue to be bombarded with information — like statistics about stillborn babies born to older moms — and people's insane opinions that we're too old (and consequently stupid) to "let" this happen. (For the record, we had two types of infertility but just went on a super foods diet and cleanse with an amazing company!) 
     I have a confession to make, and it's hard for me to make it. Because it shows how vulnerable and untrusting and hard-hearted I am. These comments and stories and statistics have made me detached. Fear of losing the baby has made me less engaged in this pregnancy. Less excited. Less hopeful. Sadly, I realized today that a detached mom is never a good mom. 
     A baby is ALWAYS a blessing. I realized if the baby doesn't live a day outside the womb, it's still my job (and my greatest privilege) to be the best mom I can be until the point that I'm no longer a mom to this girl or my other children. 
     So I made a decision that I will begin bonding with this sweet, active girl right now. Just like my amazing son, who has been reading stories and books to the baby since before she could read. Yes, I think I will have faith like his. Faith like a child. 

It's more than "just" a house: Beginning our Good-bye

After being strung along for a week by potential buyers of our home, we discovered that the promises of a contract were empty ones. They changed their minds, even after their realtor texted details of their offer. Even after spending three days visiting our home for more than 90 minutes each time. Even after many questions, including some fairly odd requests.

The crumbling of this sale transpired the day after we broke the news to our children that a move was impending. One of them was delighted. The other was devastated. And we spent the evening recalling our favorite memories and reminding ourselves that a house didn't make us a family any more than a community defines us.

Honestly, I was angry and offended after the emotional roller coaster came to a halt this morning. It was rude, inconsiderate and immature. 

As I stewed, several friends reminded me that it was more than likely the compassionate hand of God protecting us. There is already an even-better, perfect offer outstanding on our home from a family that knows they will love our home and treasure it as they make new memories here. It came on the third day our house was listed — just after we prayed as a family that the first showing would result in a full-price offer. All we have to do is wait. Wait for His perfect timing and pray that it works out according to His plan. He's already been so gracious to us, so it's easy to have faith — even if it comes with some topsy-turvy anxiousness at times!

I was also reminded that while a house is just a building, it's significance really can't be ignored. It has a place on our family timeline. 

Four weeks ago when I tore down the kids' artwork and all the encouragement I've kept taped to my walls so that we could "stage" our house, I was reminded of how richly blessed I am. Each "thing" I tore down broke my heart that I had to remove it, but it also restored my faith. 

Even though it was hanging there in plain sight day after day, I rarely took the chance to remember. Taking each piece down allowed me to pause and think about some things I should have been thinking about. 

* The giant "You mean the WORLD to me!" poster that Abby made when I was having a down day. She was just 9 at the time and so insightful to recognize my hurt and sadness. Without saying a word, she quietly locked herself in her room and got to work on the infamous poster where the "O" in WORLD was made into the Earth and the "R" is a different shade of blue because she initially forgot to include it. Neither of us noticed. (We aren't great spellers around here!) 

* My reminder to keep dreaming: "Spend at least 15 minutes a day in deliberate thought about something bigger than your to-do list." 

* A card signed by my colleagues at the last place I worked. The place where I quit without a plan in place but just the desire to follow where God would lead me. Reading their comments about trusting God and chasing bigger plans reminds me that the adventure I was seeking has found me in Mighty Strong Girls and homeschooling. I never would have guessed! In my hardest days (and there are many!), I can be secure in the knowledge that I am doing exactly what I set out to do — pursuing a legacy and not a salary. (I wouldn't complain if God makes a way for the latter though!)

* A copy of the "Starfish Flinger."
The Starfish Story
Original Story by: Loren Eisley
One day a man was walking along the beach when he noticed a boy picking something up and gently throwing it into the ocean. Approaching the boy, he asked, “What are you doing?” The youth replied, “Throwing starfish back into the ocean. The surf is up and the tide is going out. If I don’t throw them back, they’ll die.” “Son,” the man said, “don’t you realize there are miles and miles of beach and hundreds of starfish? You can’t make a difference!” After listening politely, the boy bent down, picked up another starfish, and threw it back into the surf. Then, smiling at the man, he said … “I made a difference for that one.”

* A card from my new dear friend Jan Koch (in her trademark red ink) that is simply awesome. She calls me one of the most amazing women she has met, a blessing and a treasure. None are things I think of myself. Everyone deserves a friend who believes in all her dreams and thinks more highly of her than she does!

* A collage Abby made for me with her favorite Mighty Strong Girls messages that have helped change her life: Love, Princess Warrior, Lovely ladies, Show your inner colors, Wonderful women, You are loved, beYOUtiful, Shine, God made you very special, Graceful girls, Jesus died for you, God is almighty.

* A note that came with the first $1,000 donation Mighty Strong Girls received. "Thank you for your positive messages to young girls and for helping them realize who they are in Christ....."

* A hand-drawn flower from Hannah, one of the first girls attracted to Mighty Strong Girls, with the passage 1 Peter 3:3-4: Your beauty should not come from outward adornment such as braided hair and the wearing of gold jewelry and find clothes. Instead it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God's sight.

Hannah's mom has since joined the Mighty Strong Girls team. A widow and single mom to four children (three living at home), she is a source of inspiration to me and I'm glad to call her one of my closest friends!

* An article from Christian Standard called "It's all about the mission," which points out all the things we think wrongly about what makes a good leader. "The best of them tended to be quiet listeners who let other people make most of the decisions. They weren't particularly charismatic. Or funny. They weren't the toughest guys in the pack... They were, on the whole, a little boring." 

What a relief to read this article! I am an introvert, who is awkward at public speaking, slow to process and react, and not funny in the least! But still, there could be a place for me, I remember thinking as I read this. The article goes on to conclude: "It means process and philosophy beat personality. It means the not-super-funny and the not-most-attractive-in-the-room can be most effective. It means character matters more than charisma. It means your personality doesn't have to be larger than life — your vision and your commitment to it do."

Yes, it's just a house but it's been home to more than our memories. It's held our laughter, our tears, our hopes, our dreams and our inspiration. This house represents change — beautiful transformation that took place in our hearts as a family.

When we first moved in this house in 2008, we had just made some major life changes. I had recently quit my job at the local newspaper where I had launched a magazine. We were downsizing, incorporating our spending/saving habits into our legacy, and making family our priority. We were "baby Christians." Here, we were challenged, put to pressure and made more beautiful. We became debt-free (except the house), we grew in our faith, our children were both baptized, Dan got severely ill, I quit my job, we made family our priority, we decided to homeschool and my dreams of making a difference in the world were realized with Mighty Strong Girls.

If it weren't for the sale of our house, I wonder how long I would work to the backdrop of the "inspiration" hanging on my walls but forgotten in my heart. Change, my dear friends, is a GOOD thing. It stirs us. It moves us. It improves us. Sometimes physically moving is the only thing, the only way we can make the transformation the Lord desires for us.

For this move, I am praying we will once again become debt-free, grow in our faith, incorporate our finances into our legacy, make family our priority and continue to make a difference in the world... one starfish at a time! 

Confessing my survival mode

     I have a confession. I am apparently a tad bit fearful of change. Anxious. It makes me nervous. My palms are sweating as I begin to think about it.  
     The worst part is admitting this. Confession of this sort is kind of a big deal, and I'd rather hold onto this little shameful secret. I live most of my life pretending I'm carefree, and well, that's a lie. 
     So I'm admitting to you today that I am uptight. And I don't like change. Strange, huh? From a woman who puts together a one-woman mission trip to Africa in four weeks? I do LIKE adventures and though I do struggle sometimes, I am pretty decent at being obedient. Unfortunately, neither of those facts changes the truth that I have some real struggle with change. 
     It's important for me to work through these feelings right now because we are getting ready to list our home for sale. It's a process that started over a year ago when the I sensed God was urging me to, "Get ready for a move." 
     After joining a new church earlier this year, I thought for sure God's message was just about moving to a new church. That process was painful, difficult and challenging. God and I wrestled through emotions and my disobedience as I wanted so much to hold on to something God wanted me to let go of. Finally, after hearing clearly where God wanted me and my family to worship, I started getting content. I could ease into this. I was just getting comfortable. 
     Until our family was hit with a financial reality check. The little pie chart that Dave Ramsey uses for financial budgets was off-balance. We were spending too much of our income (er, uh, my husband's income) on housing. Two years of me with virtually no income had caught up with our family.
     It was time to reassess God's message. 
     Fortunately it was an easy decision to make. We NEED to move. We aren't living practically. We aren't living obediently. And we aren't able to do all the other things God is calling us to do with so much of our monthly income wrapped up in a mortgage payment. 
     The hard part is the preparation. Getting the house ready when one room is still in the process of renovation is a frustrating proposition. And our schedules are nightmares. But little by little, we are making strides, and hopefully in two or three weeks, there will be a for-sale sign up in our front yard. 
     As we walk through these steps, it occurs to me that I may be giving up more than just a home. I went from no worries to amped up anxiety like a car revving an engine. We don't need to live in our small community because I am homeschooling. That will help us find the best house for our budget. 
     This means more changes than just our dwelling. It may mean a new community. It may mean giving up the church I just joined that I love so much. It will mean new neighbors and friends, and possibly living an hour away from the best friends I've ever had in my entire life. 
     And, well, (GULP) that kind of change feels uncomfortable. It makes me think I should worry just a little. Even though I know I shouldn't. Even though I know that I should and I do trust God entirely. Even though I know it will all work out for our good and His glory. It doesn't stop my flesh from feeling fleshly things....like the stress of change. 
     Yes, I know that I know about the spiritual stuff. I know this is where I get to CHOOSE to have peace. But I thought you should know that even though I know, and even though it's the freedom I am privileged to experience because of the cross, I still must take it up with God daily. 
     Every day, I have to start with a prayer. I call it my survival mode. It's how I will make it from here to there. It's how I get from despair to joy and from chaos to peace. And sometimes, truth be told, I am in survival mode all day long, calling on God and drawing near because the human part of me still wants to freak out about the possibilities of the impending changes. 
     I needed to out myself, because it seems my family is virtually ready to do it anyway. They know I worry, as my mother is a worrier and her mother before her. Oddly enough, the sermons at my church have been focused on the sin of anxiety. So I'm dealing with it. I'm keenly aware, and I've got my eyes fixed upon Jesus, who heals and restores. He is my ultimate survival mode.