the ninth month

We came to the Bahamas for our annual summer vacation.  For the fourth time we crossed the waters from Florida's shores to the shores of the Bahamas.  A luxury of our life lived in Vero Beach for the last four years.  And possibly our last time to cross over on our own boat...as we soon will sell this part of our Vero life.  Making room for new things.

A pause...to enjoy this beautiful gift of the Bahamas with friends, both old and new.  We have friends from our Kentucky days who come to the Bahamas in June...they have known us since before we were married.  They knew us as we said yes to marriage, and then watched us leave for Laos.  And then they watched as we came back.  Their hearts were stretched as we came into their lives, only to leave again.  And they still loved us through it all.  And amazingly, our children love each other in a special way.  I am always in awe at how our four children play together as if they're cousins.  Not missing a beat.  No initial shyness.  Just instant falling into place with each other.  A true gift.  I have savored this over these last four trips to the Bahamas.  Our meeting place. Where Kentucky and Florida intersects and we can feel as though we are neighbors again.

And then we have shared the Bahamas with new friends from Florida.  This year friends joined us and we were able to share a place of deep treasure and meaning with these new beloved friends.  Friends we soon will be saying good-bye to as we change continents.  Friends who will join in with our Kentucky friends in feeling their hearts stretched.  And we, too, will grieve as we say good-bye.

But this visit is different.  This year feels unlike the previous three summers spent out here.  Because unlike the past summers the Bahamas has been a vacation in our summer...a pause from our normal before we return to our normal.  This time, we do not return to normal.  We do not pause in the Bahamas before returning to life as usual in Florida.  We go back to a very harsh reality that all must be taken off the walls of our beloved Vero home, packed in boxes. Given away. Packed in suitcases, shipped to Thailand.  All is changing.  Horizons will look different when we go back. And so I feel internal restlessness as I come to a beautiful place that is supposedly a place of rest...

I sat with this the other day and realized it was like the ninth month of pregnancy.  The month that feels endless, and yet we all know with our rational brains it WILL come to an end.  As the body is stretched to a very uncomfortable position.  The swollen stomach hides the feet.  You know they are there, but you can't see them.  And even if you bend forward to glimpse them, they are swollen.  Nothing is the same.  Nothing is normal.  The baby is taking up space, taking up oxygen.  Everyone is uncomfortable.  And while the previous months were the needed space to prepare and transition from old normal to new normal, this last month leaves you so ready for your body to come back that you are finally ready for this baby to come.  This baby that will bring a multitude of unknown into your life.  You will never be the same.  There is no going back to what was the old normal.  And who knows? Will this baby be happy? A crier? A sleeper? Will you be a good mom? Will you feel an instant bond or will you find yourself catapulted into postpartum depression? Who will know...But at this moment, your body is so stretched and uncomfortable...you are ready to dive in...

As we sit in this awkward space of just over a month until we move, I am very aware that nothing is normal.  There is NO normal.  The Bahamas is not my home.  And when I go home, it will soon not be home any longer.  We are in transition.  And there is no way forward but to pass through the birth canal into a new reality.
And this birth was planned long ago...we stepped in and said yes to a new reality.  In fact we were in the Bahamas last summer when we got the email that said "Pete, you got the position! We want you to come work with us!"  And we said yes to return to Thailand.  We stood looking at our old and familiar horizon with a twinge of excitement in our hearts at a possibility of a dream coming true.  We had time to feel the excitement, and then to say yes and step in.
And here we are in the ninth month.  Waiting.  Expectant.  Uncomfortable.  Hopeful.  Scared.
It comes with pain, and it will come with beauty.  New life is waiting...

moving thoughts

As we get close to moving day, I feel a swirl of emotions.  It is a space of liminality...neither fully here, while not there either.  We are in that strange place of betwixt between.  Most of our conversations with people are around our leaving "Are you excited?" which is a hard question to answer because right now in the midst of moving, I don't feel a lot of excitement.  But if I say no then it sounds like we don't really want to move.  If I say yes, it feels hollow because right now we have SO much to do to make this move happen.  And I'm doing my best to live in the present moment.  So, I usually say "yes and no"...and then explain if they give me a wee bit of time to do so.  Yes, we are excited about this move...it is our dream!  That is what propelled our decision to do this crazy move (yet again) across the ocean.  But right now in this moment? No, I don't feel a lot of excitement because most of the time my thoughts are around how our present tense life is slipping away.  Our friends, our home, our daily sites, the beach...soon all will be new and different.  We will drive new roads, we will go to a new school, new grocery store, new friends, new church, new, new, new...

And we will not see what we see now anymore.

There is both excitement and expectancy

while there is also sadness and grief

And isn't that true when big transitions are being made?  It is rarely straightforward.  We can feel so many emotions all at once.

Last night I asked my son if he was feeling excited about our move to Chiang Mai.  Yes, I asked him the dreaded question that people keep asking me.  I mostly asked it to test his response.  He's my quiet child who doesn't express his emotions (unless it's the extreme ones like anger, or crying because he's hurt...)  To know what's going on inside of him is always a curios thing for me...  And he said "yes and no".  Then he quickly said "no...friends", "yes...mountain biking".  Ha! The insights you get from a child's mind.  He went on to say other no's, and other yes's.  Other reasons he is excited and not excited about this move.  Why did I ask him this dreaded question?  Because I was trying to help him pause for a moment and process what is happening to his world.  For 4 years my boys have had a stable home.  Not everything has been easy.  But our sense of home has been rooted in a single place.  This is the longest stretch we have ever lived in one home (since Pete and I got married!)

Change.  So much change.  It's a time of simplifying, purging, making space for new things.  I am sifting through old memories, wondering which ones to keep in physical form.  Which memories are enough to hold internally alone.  

Making space...

for new things

This is not an easy thing to do.  But I think that we all long for space in our lives.  To lighten the load of what we carry around, internally and externally.  But it's rare that we have reason to force this to happen.  Moving is a great time to force what is not natural for us.  To lighten our loads.  To let go. To release. To part with old things. To make room for what is new.

But now is the time for us to take advantage of what is not natural

and make space for something new

and to also appreciate the goodness of these last years.

It's a sentimental time

and it's an expectant time

And yet, it is also simply this moment

today.

trying to put memories in boxes

time to move
and pack our things
memories scattered
some here some there
and when I try to pick them up
and put them in a box
they slide through my fingers
and down into my heart
I reflect on what has passed
so quickly
sometimes so slowly
but now
they are but memories
some forgotten
until I see a mark
reminders of life once present
now just faded memories
collecting dust
for so long I have stored them
in closets
under beds
deep down
one day I will organize
and now that day has come
soon life will take us across the ocean
and this life will become a memory
though still present now
I am somewhere in the middle
through tears
I sift through what to keep
what to toss
but plastic bins
certainly don't equal the life lived
what I really have is right now
this moment
and it too will pass
but right now I pause
and I am present
savoring what is
noticing what won't be much longer
but it won't quite fit into a box...just yet

a sacred gift

ode to Christmas
the stores start stocking sometime in late August
we might even see Santa as early as July
but really it's December
that I feel ready to bring it all home
but then I find the month passes too quickly
with every day full on the calendar
shopping, parties, candy, mid-term finals
it's all a swirl
and soon the day is here
i have hardly paused to contemplate
the true meaning of it all
but Santa smiles over and over again
as innocent children sit a bit scared on his lap
and we all instagram our photos for friends to see
but who can remember what it is really about anyway
frosting on cookies
plans to travel or host
December is the busiest month of all
just look at my iCalendar and you will see
though yours might be busier
I didn't get invited to many parties this year
but that's ok
nor did we get a Christmas photo sent out
that's ok too
maybe next year
maybe we will remember to take it in August
but this year, December came fast
and now it's nearly Christmas
and then all the wrapping paper that was carefully taped
will be a big pile of trash
children will be well fed
well supplied in all their wants
and parents will lean back and long for rest
as their children run all around trying out their new toys
but somewhere someone
will sit in the quiet
perhaps it's you
perhaps it's me
perhaps it's someone who once knew the noise
but this year it's quiet
lonely
different
not quite what they had planned
sometimes life brings surprises
and yet,
that is what the first "Christmas" was...
a surprise
not expected
the world was going on as usual
and a young naive mother
was welcoming a little baby into the world
she did not have a midwife
only a first-time father to watch the event
as the first cries filled the stable
and a relieved mother held her baby
were the animals aware of this unusual event?
or did they go on as usual
while the mother and father marveled
such a normal common event--giving birth to a baby
yet knowing this baby was not "normal"
but a gift from the Divine
beholding this gift in awe
pausing for a moment to embrace
something so "normal"
yet so extraordinary and full of hope
As I sit in a quiet moment with my coffee
I attempt to imagine myself in that story
Wanting to embrace somehow the mystery
of that first Christmas day
When the gift was truly special
something that we truly needed
something that held hope and expectancy
something sacred
I pause
and for a moment I am reminded
that though my children will receive gifts
I somehow want to behold
that first sacred gift
to be in awe
to see
to savor
yes,
Jesus
a gift for us all
and yes,
I know
that I need this gift

does grace expire?

does grace have an expiration date?
as in "a few days should do it for you" and then...let's move on now
do you ever feel like it's ok to have a day or two to struggle
and then day 3 you should be ok
do you ever find yourself shaking your head at yourself
what's your problem?
still struggling with that?
why can't you just get over it by now?
and you find yourself
discouraged
down
anxious
weary
alone
because if you can't allow yourself grace
then surely others can't allow you grace
and so you can't let them know you are still struggling
alone.
but does grace really have an expiration date?
a certain amount of time that you are allowed to struggle?
does grief have an expiration date?
a certain allotment of time that you are allowed to grieve the loss of a child
or a parent
or a friend?
grief comes in waves...
some days grief is intense
some days it feels manageable
some days you find yourself feeling ok
and then grief hits again
but isn't the same true for our struggles in life?
isn't grace a daily need?
can we allow ourselves grace
EVERY
DAY
day after day
moment after moment
and as we taste grace
we may be surprised to find that our struggles begin to pale
just the weight of feeling like there is no grace left
is a weight that feels unbearable
that leaves us feeling condemned
condemned that we "still struggle"
but when we are met with grace
again and again
our hearts are changed
we are changed
we begin to taste and see
how good God is
how good love is
how loved we are
how loved I am
does grace ever expire?
does it ever run out
does it ever come to an end
or is it us that withholds grace from ourselves
is it us that stops believing there's enough grace
even for me
even today
even when I find myself still struggling
"my grace is sufficient for you...
my power is made perfect in your weakness"
what would happen if we allowed grace to meet us each day
day after day
moment after moment
would we sense a lightness in the struggle
a light in the darkness
a presence in the valley
knowing we are not ever meant to go alone
not ever meant to carry it from here
grace
grace
grace
it's still here for you
today
grace

anxious and free

Having anxiety has often been something that carries a lot of shame with it.  When I first experienced panic attacks and sleepless nights that left me feeling at the bottom, I was desperate for help.  My doctor put me on antidepressants and I began to stabilize.  But in the Christian world antidepressants are not looked upon fondly.  We were headed overseas to do mission work, and I carried with me a mark of shame...something that was hard to speak about.  I didn't tell many, but because I was desperate to be known and loved, I did let one of my leaders know.  The response confirmed my fear...that to be on antidepressants showed I lacked faith.  As I would meet with this woman I would feel the need to discuss whether I was still taking the medicine, and whether I was doing everything to get off...translation: Was I praying, reading the Psalms, praising God?... and so forth.  She once said "just praise God!"  Her response left me feeling like I was lacking faith, and not doing enough.    Because to be a Christian means to not be anxious.  To have anxiety means I am sinning...I am not trusting.  I am not believing.
"Lord, help me in my unbelief..."
It was hard to be newly diagnosed with anxiety, and to have fallen to such a dark place that I would actually consider antidepressants.  I had struggled with depression for several years prior to my anxiety diagnosis, but when a doctor suggested antidepressants and gave me a sample I immediately threw them away and decided to start running and do anything I could to avoid taking medication.  I was NOT ok with taking antidepressants.  They carried a strong stigma within me, and I refused to think they might help me.  I was able to deal with the depression through running and other self-care practices, but when the panic attacks and insomnia hit in 2004, I hit such a low desperate place that I felt I had nothing to turn to but medicine.  I was so desperate for help that I said yes to the very drugs I had turned my nose up at a few years prior.
And now we were missionaries on the field.  I had a few friends who I was able to talk about it with, but very few.  As a result, it felt like a shameful thing.  If I had not had one friend in particular who had been so open with me about using medicine for her anxiety, I would have felt completely alone.  I will always be thankful that there was one person in my life who shared her story with no hint of shame. She was just matter of fact "I need them.  They help me." and this freed me to think that maybe it was ok for me, too.
But honestly I never stopped hoping that I would get off of medicine.  That I would either be healed of anxiety, or that I would overcome it, or find ways to cope with it otherwise.  And did I pray?  YES.   Because even with the meds, I still struggled.  The meds helped me get my feet back under me, but they did not take away the internal struggle of "I have anxiety".  The anxiety was less intense, and I was able to sleep...but my biggest struggle was my anxiety about having anxiety!!!
Fast forward to 13 years later.  I have sat in probably ten different counselor offices over the last 13 years, I have had healing prayers prayed over me, I have talked to Christians who would lead me through prayers of forgiveness, I have cried out to God for healing, I have welcomed Jesus into my heart countless times, and at the end of the day...I still do not feel able or free to stop taking medication.  In conclusion, I still have anxiety.  But am I sinning?  Do I lack faith?  Am I missing something?
Anxiety has driven me closer to God than anything else in my life.  I have found myself leaning on God for strength in a way that if I did not struggle I would not need to.  Without anxiety I think I would feel "able" and self-sufficient.  I would praise God because everything in my life is going just fine.  But anxiety keeps me humble, and very near to God.  Without God I could not get up out of bed after a sleepless night.  Just a few days ago the thought entered my head "if I didn't have God I would surely be an alcoholic to numb all this pain."  On my low days I can only call out to God, and to friends who hold me in loving prayer.  Does this make me unbelieving?  Does this mean I don't trust God enough?
As I sit with these questions...these very common questions in the Christian world, I am able to sense this is not how God views me.  I believe as I look up to his face I am met with such deep love.  His gaze towards me is love, not shame.  It is not him who is saying "you lack faith".  It is not him who says "just praise me more and you'll be healed".  Because he knows how open and desperate my heart has turned towards him.  He sees my suffering and knows that I have continued to look to him.  He sees my heart.
I still long for healing.  To be free of anxiety and insomnia.  To never have another panic filled sleepless night.  OH!  That would be amazing.  But as I sat with God this morning I could sense his delight in me.  And how he is using my struggle with anxiety to form a strong woman who has a story to share.  A story that says "you don't need to be ashamed of your struggle."  He is inviting me towards freedom EVEN WITH anxiety.  He is helping me see that healing from anxiety is not what equals freedom at the deep level.  I can live my life with anxiety and be free!  It is my scar, but it is not who I am.  I am his beloved daughter.  That is my story, my inheritance.  There is nothing greater than to know we are fully loved even when we are fully known in our broken places.  That is freedom!!!!

who you are

Who you are
  is not defined by your good days
or your bad days
  your highs
or your lows

Who you are
  is not equal to your clothes size
or your chest size
  or your shoe size
or your pocket size

Who you are
  is not your age
or your youthfulness
  or your grey hairs
or your wrinkles

Who you are
  is not your thigh gap
or lack of
or your tightness
or your softness

Who you are
  is not your job
or your status
  your success
or your failure

Who you are
  is not how much money you make
or how much you owe
  or how much you have
or don't have

Who you are
  is not how funny you are
or how popular you are
  or how liked you are
or how able you are

Who are you?
If all these things are stripped away
What is left?
What we define ourselves with
changes from day to day
depending on whether we have it together
or we are falling apart
whether we wore the right clothes
said the right thing
did the job well

But this keeps us in performance mode
Meanwhile our true self wonders
Would they like me if they knew the real me?
Would they turn away if they knew my weaknesses?
If they saw me on my off days...
Would I still be ok?

Oh.Shame.
We hide behind the appearances
  and the performances
We pretend (and believe) we are ok
We are ok because we have it all together

But there is fear
When things might be exposed
When our stories might be learned
When the dark places come out
When we fail to hide the ugly places

There is good news
There is hope
There is another way to be defined

You are loved
You are God's beloved
When He looks at you
he does not see performance
or ability
or style
or age
or income
or success

He.sees.you.
YOU.
as you are
beloved you
His heart is full with love for you
He even dances when he thinks of you

And his love cannot be chased away
or lost
or removed
nothing.NOTHING.NOthing
can separate you from his love

To be loved
To be defined by love
is to be free
to be yourself
who you are
truly you
no shame
no pretending
no acting
just YOU
beloved
you

You do not have to do anything
to prove your worth
to earn this love
NO.
it's just there
love flowing
like a river
waiting for you to step in
and believe it's true
washing over you
stirring in you
cleansing you
baptizing you
blessing you
beloved
i am
 well pleased
 with you

can you hear his voice
can you hear the song
can you feel the embrace
can you receive this love
you do not have to change for love
love changes you

beloved
that is who you are
be.loved
You