A few days ago, Cindy Beall posted a recap of what the Lord has done in her life since her world fell apart 9 years ago. If you don't know her story, check it out here. (You can also check out her book, which will be on shelves soon.)

At the end of her post, she asked a simple question: What sort of amazing fruit have trials produced in your life?

I left a comment without thinking much about it. Then I went back to proofread my comment. Then I read it again. And again.

By my fourth time through it, I was crying as I realized how very good the Lord has been to me.

I whined and complained. I argued and bickered. I doubted His love, and I doubted His goodness. I asked him to save me from my circumstances. I bargained and begged. I didn't talk to Him for a while. Then I worked my tail off to "earn" the answer I wanted.

And he brought me to a place where I finally had to say, "I'd rather have you." Even if everything I believed about Him was a lie. Even if He wasn't good. Even if He only loved me a little bit. Even if I could never earn my way. Even if I would live in poverty and debt for the rest of my life. Even if my marriage and life was destined for mediocrity. I would still rather have Him.

And out of that moment - the moment when I realized He really is all that I have - He birthed a new desire. No longer all I have, He is truly and undeniably all I want.

See the comment I left on Cindy's blog below:

As Christians who attended (and volunteered at) church regularly, my husband and I had the same dream – to make a lot of money and retire early. We set about purchasing properties in our hometown, with the desire to either rent them or turn them over for profit. Right after we bought our second property, the economy went to pot, and we found ourselves $35k in debt (not including the mortgages) with very little income to live on.

That was when we finally turned to the Lord and said, “What do we do?” The Lord sent us to South Korea, where we taught English at a church and made less income than we had ever made in our lives.

He taught us to live on a budget, and to live a minimalist lifestyle. We realized that we didn’t need “stuff” in order to be happy. Actually, we realized the opposite. We learned that the “stuff” (and the financial burden that came with it) was preventing us from following God’s will for our life.

We have been back in the states for 13 months and, out of obedience to Christ, we are currently renting a small home, living TV- and Internet-Free, and using every extra penny to pay off our debt. We have never been more at peace, and we are looking forward to the day when all of our time and money can be dedicated 100% to the Kingdom (and not to our credit card bills).

I love love love that the Lord removes our support, leads us into the desert, and slays us with thirst – only to have us lean on Him, hide in His love, and drink of His goodness. (Hosea 2).

Thank you for sharing your life, Cindy, and for helping me remember what He has done in mine.


.......

From Hosea 2...

She said, ‘I will go after my lovers, who give me my food and my water, my wool and my linen, my olive oil and my drink.’ Therefore I will block her path with thornbushes; I will wall her in so that she cannot find her way. She will chase after her lovers but not catch them; she will look for them but not find them.

"Therefore I will take away my grain when it ripens, and my new wine when it is ready. I will take back my wool and my linen, intended to cover her naked body. So now I will expose her lewdness before the eyes of her lovers; no one will take her out of my hands.

I will stop all her celebrations: her yearly festivals, her New Moons, her Sabbath days—all her appointed festivals.
I will ruin her vines and her fig trees, which she said were her pay from her lovers; I will make them a thicket, and wild animals will devour them.

I will punish her for the days she burned incense to the Baals; she decked herself with rings and jewelry, and went after her lovers, but me she forgot,” declares the LORD.

“Therefore I am now going to allure her; I will lead her into the wilderness and speak tenderly to her. There I will give her back her vineyards, and will make the Valley of [Trouble] a door of hope. There she will respond (or sing) as in the days of her youth, as in the day she came up out of Egypt.

“In that day,” declares the LORD, “you will call me ‘my husband’; you will no longer call me ‘my master.’

I will plant her for myself in the land; I will show my love to the one I called ‘Not my loved one.
’
I will say to those called ‘Not my people’: ‘You are my people’;and they will say, ‘You are my God.’”

A Boring Update or Two

First of all, I want to sincerely thank those of you who responded to my last post. I am reminded more and more every day that this Christian life isn't meant to be lived alone. What affects the part, affects the whole, and I am SO BLESSED to have such amazing women in my life who take time out of their own busy schedules to give advice and send encouragement across the miles.

I did delete that post, in case you're wondering. I mainly posted it as a way of asking for some much-needed advice, but I don't want it to cause any harm to anyone who may read my blog in the future. So I took it down.

Still, I very much appreciate those of you who read and prayed and commented. Your input meant more to me than words can say.

In other news, just a few updates today:

1. I have almost completed going through the girls' clothes. We went from 4 FULL laundry baskets to two (including towels and blankets). I have one last load to wash and sort before I take yet another run to Goodwill.

2. I plan to tackle the kitchen next. We have too many dishes, and the amount of time that we spend washing them is ridiculous. I plan to narrow us down to six dinner plates, six coffee mugs, six bowls, and that's it. I'll probably end up clearing out some mixing bowls and a few small appliances too.

3. I know this is a boring post... I'm bored writing it...

...But these small steps bring me closer to the lifestyle the Lord has called us to lead in this season of our lives.

Last night, I got home at 6:30pm. I put the girls to bed. I worked on organizing clothes until 10pm. And I went to bed. And I'm still not finished. And I probably won't be finished until this weekend. And then it will all start again on Monday.

All that time and energy put into things that don't matter - things that won't last.

Brandon and I covet our time. We want to invest in our children, in each other, in God's kingdom, in things that last and matter.

We don't want to waste our time arranging and rearranging things we don't need and things that don't last.

So, yes, we're in a boring phase. There is nothing fun or exciting about sorting through 12 pair of leggings and trying to figure out which three to keep.

But when we're done. When everything is combed through. When every area of our home is at maximum use with minimum maintenance. Then we can start talking about more important (and more exciting) things.

Until then, friends, I hope you're prepared for all the cliff-hanging, soul-searching, breath-taking excitement that can come from a mountain of laundry and a sink full of dishes.

2 Corinthians 5

1-5For instance, we know that when these bodies of ours are taken down like tents and folded away, they will be replaced by resurrection bodies in heaven—God-made, not handmade—and we'll never have to relocate our "tents" again. Sometimes we can hardly wait to move—and so we cry out in frustration. Compared to what's coming, living conditions around here seem like a stopover in an unfurnished shack, and we're tired of it! We've been given a glimpse of the real thing, our true home, our resurrection bodies! The Spirit of God whets our appetite by giving us a taste of what's ahead. He puts a little of heaven in our hearts so that we'll never settle for less.

6-8That's why we live with such good cheer. You won't see us drooping our heads or dragging our feet! Cramped conditions here don't get us down. They only remind us of the spacious living conditions ahead. It's what we trust in but don't yet see that keeps us going. Do you suppose a few ruts in the road or rocks in the path are going to stop us? When the time comes, we'll be plenty ready to exchange exile for homecoming.

Movin' and Shakin' and Groovin' and Bakin'

We moved this weekend.

Yup. Moved out of our apartment (which we have loved) into a house (which we love more).

We have a yard. We have enough bedrooms for our growing family. We have less square footage, which we actually kind of like. We have a sidewalk. We have a little humming neighborhood.

And we have stuff. Lots and lots of stuff.

You may remember my 2011 Resolution to prepare my life for whatever God has next for us. A huge part of that means weeding out all the unnecessary “junk” that’s cluttering up my life – in my car, in my house, in my heart.

Although I haven’t updated the progress here much, I have taken no fewer than THREE carloads of “stuff” to Goodwill, and I have a fourth awaiting my attention at the apartment right now.

I was quite proud of that accomplishment.

Was.

I was proud until, well, we moved.

Boxes upon boxes. Bags upon bags. Stuff. Stuff. And more stuff.

They guys (who were gracious enough to help us move) could barely fit all the stuff in my living room.

It was piled high. And two days later, I am still going through boxes and bags of – you guessed it – stuff.

Decorations. Dishes. “Might-use-this-someday’s.” And clothes. OH! The clothes!!!

My husband (who was oh-so-sick the day of the move) accidentally mixed the clean and dirty clothes into the same bags. We have no way of telling what’s what; so all of our clothes – every single article of what we currently wear – are piled in the hallway outside our laundry room.

Y’all.

Y’all.

We cannot see the carpet in our entire hallway. And the pile, at some points, is over 3 feet high.

I’m ashamed to say that doesn’t even include the BOXES of clothes that are stored away for spring and summer.

Ugh.

In Korea, we had one outfit for each day, a couple sets of play clothes, and one “nice” outfit for church. I had two pair of shoes. Two. Pair. Of. Shoes.

A white pair for spring and summer. A black pair for fall and winter.

Surrr-eee-uhs-lay.

Now, I can’t find room for my shoes. My hallway is full (FULL!) of clothes.
And I started thinking about all the time my hubby and I spend on laundry alone. The washing and drying (and the electricity bills that come with it). The folding. The ironing. The putting away. The sorting. The digging. The searching for something to wear amidst the umpteen stacks that fill our drawers and closets.

If you don’t see where this is going, lem’me spell it out for ya. We’re going all-out Korean style, and this seems as good a time as any. As we wash (and re-wash) our pile(s) of clothes, I will be choosing 7-10 “outfits” for the girls, 1-2 “church dresses,” and a couple sets of pajamas.

Hubby and I will have even less (since we often wear the same outfit to work/play/church).

I’m ditching the shoes.

Yup. I’ll probably end up with more than 2 pair, but definitely not more than 4 or 5 (goodbye, lovely shiny red pumps that I would love to wear again someday but don’t have anything to match you now).

Stay tuned, I might take some before/after pictures, if I can swallow my pride for a minute.

A few more updates:

1. We are still TV-free and loving it. When Chloe is tired, she will occasionally ask when we’re going to get a TV. Those moments are just that – moments. They last only a few seconds before she takes off into her imaginary world of talking butterflies and giants and heroines and damsels in distress. Maple doesn’t seem to notice a difference. (In the name of full disclosure, for a couple afternoons a week, we do have a DVD player in the car that the girls watch on our 30-minute commute.)

2. While we’re not all-organic, chemical-free… we’re getting there. I’m still poo free (for the most part). I make a couple loaves of whole wheat bread each week, along with a couple batches of healthy granola. The girls are snacking on raw fruits and veggies and only ask for chips/cookies/etc. if they know we have them in the house. Otherwise, they don’t seem to miss them.

3. I’m not losing weight. Like, at all. But I am eating healthier and binging less. Hubby and I started P90X (aka: Excersize created in the pit of Hell) last night. Progress is progress, yo. Don’t hate.

So that’s it. May your week be filled with smiles and bubbles and sidewalk chalk.

The Korean Adventurer

I find myself lost in nostalgia today. My dear friend Kathryn and her family are heading to South Korea in the next 24 hours to begin a year-long work that God has called them to.

I'm am so excited for them. More excited than words can say. Living overseas is one of those life-changing, soul-searching, faith-building, family-uniting, God-ordained things that cannot fully be put into words. It is impossible to walk away from an experience like that unaltered. And I know they will look back on these memories as precious, cherished, beautiful times.

As I read her blog and talk with her on the phone, I find myself reliving the 24 hours before our own departure.

I was in a panic. I had never been to Korea and had no idea what to pack. I was trying to fit our entire life (including a month's supply of diapers and toiletries) into 4 suitcases, and I was failing miserably.

I was saying what "goodbye's" had not already been said by that point. I was desperately grasping for some calm in the midst of chaos.

Then I think about the airport. My mother was crying. My husband was focused. My children were content. I was... excited.

For the 3.5 of us boarding the plane, our nerves were so jittery, none of us slept for the entire 16-hour flight. The flight attendant served my bi-bim-bap. This was my first Korean dish.

When we arrived in Seoul, Pastor Kim and his lovely wife picked us up. While we all wanted to be friendly and conversational, my family and I all fell sound asleep on the hour-long ride to our new home.

A crowd of kind-faced Samonims greeted us at the entrance to our apartment building. We were so amazed at how these little, happy women carried our massive luggage up three flights of stairs to our second story apartment. We opened the door to our wood-floor, large-window, brightly-lit apartment. There were balloons on the windows and "American style" bread on the table. A hand-made glittered poster board read: "Fear not, for I am with you; Be not dismayed, for I am your God." A few dishes, no doubt donated by the Samonims, were sitting on the kitchen counters. And several large bottles of water cooled in the fridge.

Our Korean-style bedding was lying on the warmed floor in the master bedroom. A dark burgundy leather couch sat against the wall of our living room.

I was exhausted. Completely foggy-brained. I remember looking at the Samonims, who were watching us with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation, and profusely repeating one of the few words I had learned on the plane ride over: Kam-sa-ham-ni-da. Thank you.

Chloe, exhausted and overwhelmed, cried herself to sleep that night.

We awoke early the next morning to a pink princess alarm clock Pastor Kim had given us: "Good morning, Princess. Good morning, Princess."

And the adventure began.

Our first visit to the church (where, in all my pregnant glory, I fell down an icy set of stairs).

Our first trip to the grocery store.

Our first unaccompanied trip to the grocery store.

The first snow fall.

The first time I met Easter.

The first time I was invited into a Samonim's house.

The first time an American friend visited us. (Shout out to Ansley!)

The first time we toured Seoul.

Our first meal at a restaurant.

Chloe's first Korean word.

Learning to bow.

Learning to read.

Learning to live.

Each memory could be an entire post all on its own.

We learned to love the adventure that was outside our front door. We learned to cherish the respite that was our warm apartment. We learned to let go of our agendas and cleave to the relationships that mattered most.

It was hard. It was challenging. It stretched me further than I ever thought I could go.

But it was beautiful. And it was dear. And it's an experience I will live over and over again in my heart and mind.

Kathryn, my dear friend, I'm so thrilled for you and your family. You are constantly in my thoughts and prayers. May God's presence feel near, His direction clear, His works evident, and His heart revealed.

2011 - Part 2

I've been trying to decide how to tell you about my "resolutions" for 2011. You see, they're not true "resolutions." More ideas. Thoughts. Feelings. Beliefs.

I could tell you that I Resolve to Be More Organized. But the truth goes much deeper than that.

Two months ago, after receiving a heartbreaking bit of news regarding my lovely city of Memphis (more on that later), I could not sleep. I cried out to the Lord, "Use me! USE me! use MEEE! Use my car. Use my house. Use everything I have."

To which the Lord clearly, deliberately stated: "Your car is not ready to be used. Your house is not ready to be used. You are not ready to be used."

Ugh. Truth.

At that moment, my car was so full of trash and jackets and bookbags and makeup and Starbucks cups and sippy cups and teddy bears and scarves and hats and apple cores... that I couldn't fit another person in there if my life depended on it.

My house - full of more junk. Full. Bursting at the seams. Items that had little use and no place to call home floated through my house like ghosts, seeking a life they once possessed.

And myself. My heart. My life. Full. Full of good things, like love for, and time with, my children, husband, friends, family. That's supposed to be there. Time with the Lord? Eh. It was there, but not as much as it should be. But then there's that other space: that space that can be filled and emptied and refilled over and over again. It's the space most often occupied by TV, facebook, more TV, gossip, TV, movies, TV, magazines, TV, idle shopping, TV, music, and more TV. (Did I mention TV?)

With the plethora of cheap entertainment and empty space-fillers at my disposal (and in constant use), is it any wonder I had no time for anything else?

My car. My home. My life... all totally unprepared for use in God's Kingdom.

That thought led to a slew of emotions, resolutions, goals, projects, plans, and determinations.

That was two months ago.

But over the past two months, through prayerful consideration with my husband, that big pot of resolutions has simmered and boiled down to a concentrated, purposeful salve of resolve.

I am resolved...

1.) To remove mindless TV from my life. We sold the xbox. We sold the movies (all 341 of them). We sold the DVD player. We sold (gasp) the TV. There may still be evenings when hubby and I cuddle up to the glow of the laptop screen and enjoy a movie together. But it is no longer the constant hum of our home.

2.) To prepare my house and car and every area of my life for the "promised offering."
Two days after I cleaned out my car, and elderly lady (with a trunk full of Christmas presents) broke down right in front of me. I was able to comfortably fit her and all her packages (plus a few of my own) into my car to help her home. Confirmation, anyone?
My house will take much longer than the five hours spent on my car. But, as my verse for the year says, "I want you to have all the time you need to make this offering in your own way. I don't want anything forced or hurried at the last minute." I have time, and I plan to make the most of it.

3.) To do what I am supposed to do right now. I don't mean this in the "big-picture" way I have said it in the past... as in, "I'm living where I'm supposed to live, doing the job I'm supposed to do, etc." What I mean is right now. At this moment. Am I doing what I am supposed to be doing? When I'm at work, I plan to work. When it's dinner time, I cook. When I should be with my children, I'm with my children. And when I should be folding clothes, I'm folding clothes. No more doing home from work or work from home. No more talking on the phone instead of talking with my daughter. No more resting when I should be busy or busyness when I should be resting. "For everything there is a season."

4.) Above all, to seek first the Kingdom of God and trust that "all these things" will be added unto me. I tend to jump on bandwagons. All or nothing. That's my motto. "I'm eating 500 calories a day so I can lose a million pounds." OR ""Look how immaculately perfect my house can be when I spend a ka-jillion hours a day on it." OR "I can sew new wardrobes for everyone in our family plus some for the neighbors!" OR "Apple Pie, anyone? I baked 23 of them this week just so I could get the perfect crust."
When I'm on those bandwagons, they become priority over everything else. They become a god. And I am convicted.
So my plan is to have one true bandwagon this year: God's Kingdom. And I'm going to trust and believe that, if everything I do is with that purpose in mind, "all these things" will fall into place.

Happy 2011, y'all.

2011... Part 1

I love January 1st.

It is, bar none, my favorite day of the year.

I love new beginnings. I love blank slates. I love a white canvas, waiting for color and life.

For Brandon and I, much of December is spent discussing the changes we wish to make in the following year. We look back at the past twelve (and sometimes twenty four) months and determine what we liked - and didn't like - about them. We weave our way through pleasant family memories. We stumble through recollections of arguments or difficult decisions.

2010 has been... easy. Compared to 2009, in which we moved to and from a strange land, redefining ourselves and our family, 2010 was simple.

We worked. We played. We settled into a new groove of American living.

And as we look into, and pray over, 2011... one passage of scripture keeps coming up...

Starting with 2 Corinthians 8:1...


(1-4) Now, friends, I want to report on the surprising and generous ways in which God is working in the churches in Macedonia province. Fierce troubles came down on the people of those churches, pushing them to the very limit. The trial exposed their true colors: They were incredibly happy, though desperately poor. The pressure triggered something totally unexpected: an outpouring of pure and generous gifts. I was there and saw it for myself. They gave offerings of whatever they could—far more than they could afford!—pleading for the privilege of helping out in the relief of poor Christians.

(10)So here's what I think: The best thing you can do right now is to finish what you started last year and not let those good intentions grow stale. Your heart's been in the right place all along. You've got what it takes to finish it up, so go to it.

(9:1-2)If I wrote any more on this relief offering for the poor Christians, I'd be repeating myself. I know you're on board and ready to go. I've been bragging about you all through Macedonia province, telling them, "Achaia province has been ready to go on this since last year." Your enthusiasm by now has spread to most of them.

(3-5)Now I'm sending the brothers to make sure you're ready, as I said you would be, so my bragging won't turn out to be just so much hot air. If some Macedonians and I happened to drop in on you and found you weren't prepared, we'd all be pretty red-faced—you and us—for acting so sure of ourselves. So to make sure there will be no slipup, I've recruited these brothers as an advance team to get you and your promised offering all ready before I get there. I want you to have all the time you need to make this offering in your own way. I don't want anything forced or hurried at the last minute.

(8) God can pour on the blessings in astonishing ways so that you're ready for anything and everything, more than just ready to do what needs to be done.

(12-15) Carrying out this social relief work involves far more than helping meet the bare needs of poor Christians. It also produces abundant and bountiful thanksgivings to God. This relief offering is a prod to live at your very best, showing your gratitude to God by being openly obedient to the plain meaning of the Message of Christ. You show your gratitude through your generous offerings to your needy brothers and sisters, and really toward everyone. Meanwhile, moved by the extravagance of God in your lives, they'll respond by praying for you in passionate intercession for whatever you need. Thank God for this gift, his gift. No language can praise it enough!


More to come...

Full

My little bloggy world feels like a distant memory these days. I could complain about the sickness(es) we've been battling, the stress of basketball season when married to a coach, the endless meetings at my job, and the fact that my house can never stay clean for more than 2.3 seconds.

My life is very full right now. At this very moment, walking through my living room requires crossing a gauntlet of sofa cushions, stuffed animals, crushed cheerios, dress up clothes, and the occasional dirty sock.

The sounds of my house are those of little girls giggling, humming, pretending, and the occasional whining.

My husband is studiously grading papers and gathering up the necessary DVD entertainment for our upcoming trip to Athens, in between filling the alternating rolls of a giant, Prince Charming, and a puppy named "puffy."

The Christmas tree is lit. Last week's "sparkly" sugar cookies are almost gone. A few presents are wrapped (and re-wrapped) under the tree.

The truth is that the last few weeks have felt chaotic. I feel as though I'm behind on all my "should-be-doings" in life. We have battled some rather scary illness. I have felt a lot like a single mom as my superman teacher hubby coaches young boys in basketball and in life. Work has been busy with meeting after meeting in preparation for upcoming changes. And my house has been in a constant state of upheaval in the midst of it all.

But as I look back on the past few weeks, I think about how blessed I really am. We are all healthy and active, despite the sickness. My husband is busy doing what he loves, and what he is called to do - a fact that gives him confidence in himself and closeness to his God. The meetings at work are leading to a new system that will make my job easier in less than two months. And my house? The upheaval is caused by the same two little girls who curl up in my lap at night to snuggle into me while we read the Christmas story. They climb in my bed in the morning and make it so much easier for me to wake up. They tip toe around in their tutus and pajamas, stopping occasionally to hug my leg before they scamper off into their next adventure. The gauntlet that is my living room right now is the very evidence of life and imagination in my house.

I'm busy, yes. Sometimes stressed. Overwhelmed? Often.

But that is to be expected when one's life is full. Full to the brim.

Overflowing.


In the midst of a very severe trial, their overflowing joy and their extreme poverty welled up in rich generosity.
2 Corinthians 8:2