Moving forward when it all feels backwards

I love fall.  I love pumpkins and pumpkin spice and cooler weather and football and all my tv shows starting back up and apple picking and Halloween and preschooling A actually going to preschool and...all the important things in life happen in fall.

But this time last year…gah…last year.  I’ve been avoiding writing this post, one because of what was going on this time last year and do I really want to dredge all that up and two because how has it already been a year and three I haven’t really completely done what I set out to do.  And in a blink, three hundred and sixty five, no make that seventy two, three hundred and seventy two days have gone by.

Since I was told I had melanoma.

And I’ve been doing too good of a job loving all the wonderful things of this coming season and ignoring all the difficult things that the past season taught me.  

Husband R and I have been saving to buy a new couch, to replace our seven year old crusty ones with a nice shiny new leather sectional.  And Thursday of last week, we finally had enough. Cash dollars.  I proudly marched into the store ready to shove the do you need financing back into the face of the unsuspecting sales person and whip out my dolla’ bills y’all…except it was really a plastic debit card, whatever, same thing.  Preschooling A was tagging along…more like jumping on every couch, chair, and loveseat she could.  At one point I found her under the sheets, under the sheets people, of the store model bed.  I liken furniture shopping with preschooling A to chugging tobasco sauce while an angry gorilla chases you.  It’s terrifying.  

Having survived preschooling A losing her gum on the furniture store floor and shaking off all the jeering eyes watching me as I crawled around looking for it, I went home to tell husband R of my fantastic negotiating skills and the gloriousness our new couch would bring.

And Husband R greeted me with “Why the heck has our mortgage gone up $475 a month?!?”  

Come again?  Mistake.  It has to be a mistake.

And after two hours on the phone with some lovely lady who got her degree at I don’t care about you or your shiny new couch university we figured out it was a mistake.  Made by the mortgage company last September, and one which we unfortunately now have to pay for.  The details are more than confusing and don’t matter much at this point.  

What matters is me having to send my poor husband to cancel our order and return our couch. Two hours after buying it.  Because those lovely pennies we worked so hard to save, now have to go to keeping a roof over our heads.

And it's gut wrenching. 

But here’s the irony.  If the mistake had been caught last year, in September, when I had just had surgery and the hospital bills were piling up and I had just been diagnosed with stage 3 cancer, if the mortgage company would have told us then about their mistake and about how much money we owed them…we may not have survived.  Emotionally. Probably not financially. 

So one year later, almost to the date, we’re hit with this financial hardship.  And it’s enough to turn my love of fall into severe dislike. But, we have the money saved to get us out of this. Okay, so yes, we really would rather have a new couch.

What we would rather have is not always what God intends.

And remember when I prayed for God to show me my tomatoes?  I asked him to reveal the things he has for me that are outside of my box, the things that I’m missing…well, I’m pretty sure he wants me to learn how to move forward with less.   

Last year I grappled with facing less time, learning how to move forward with death being real.

This year I have less money.  And I’ll learn how to move forward with that too. 

And here’s the humor.  God does have a sense of humor.  We tend to pay attention more when things are that way.

God faithfully provided health care and food and people to get us through my sickness and surgery. And then He miraculously made it clear I never had cancer.  And as time went on and we celebrated the good times and enjoyed our summer and when we started to forget. Forget what it feels like to desperately depend on him for our very next minutes.  When that happened... 

He reminded us.

And it’s funny because it shouldn’t take a $475/mo hit to my checking account for me to remember He’ll provide.  It shouldn’t take me feeling helpless for me to remember He’s my only hope.  

And it shouldn’t take my security being threatened for me to remember He’s my Savior. 

So I’m making a list. A literal, ink on paper list.  Of all the things, I can remember Him ever doing for me, saving me from, providing me with.  I don’t want to forget anymore.

And I really want to get back to enjoying the fall, the way He intends for me to, with just a little less stuff and a lot more of Him.

Will you make a list with me?  Something you can look at and remind yourself of when things get off track?  I’d love to hear some them!  Please comment below, it really does make me smile!

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Rogue Tomatoes

We have this garden.  We planted it last year.  When I was sick.  The idea was for it to grow organic produce, allowing us to eat healthy without breaking the bank.  And it's sort of doing that.  But not really.  We get some cucumbers and squash here and there.  But the bugs and the heat, they get most of it.  Its okay, really, we're learning.  Next year will be better.

We also have this tomato plant. I don't know where it came from.  This plant, its not within the walls of the garden.  It's rogue.  A rogue tomato plant.  And it's making a TON of tomatoes.  When Husband R found it, it was on the ground it was so heavy with tomatoes.  He since has helped it stand and we keep getting more tomatoes.

I was in the kitchen today, chopping one up, thinking, what in the world am I going to do with all of these?  And also, how ironic.  Our garden, that we purposefully planted, isn't producing. And this thing that we didn't plant...here I am, up to my eyeballs in tomatoes.

And...

Isn't that just like God?

We work and toil and sweat in our own little boxes.  Trying to produce something, anything.  We dig and plant and wait.  We get frustrated and angry and bothered by the inconveniences that get in our way. The bugs, the heat.  The setbacks, the obstacles.  There's always something keeping us from getting where we want to go.

And there's God.  Saying, "Look, pick up your head, turn towards Me. I AM here."

Maybe it's your marriage or your career.  Your finances or the relationships you have with your kids.  You're working hard at them, putting in the effort, watering them daily.  But things just won't change, nothing is growing.  So we keep doing the same things and keep getting the same dead plants.

It's time we look up.  Look around.

Look for God.

What if...just what if...

He's got something rogue.

Waiting for you.

An opportunity, lying on the ground, wanting to be picked.  Something that will produce more than you will know what to do with.  And you're missing it because you're too busy planting your own agenda and getting upset that it's not growing.

I stood in front of my sink, staring out the window at this plant, and I asked God to show me my tomatoes.

Reveal to me what I missing, where I'm blinded by my own ambitions.

I don't know what that means for you.  But for me...remember the wars within? I've been spending a lot of time missing what's outside the box.  I'm not paying attention.

I have a 4 year old daughter, a very emotional 4 year old daughter.  Husband and I?  We're at our wits end parenting her.  We've been digging and planting and trying to help her grow.  She screams and lies and doesn't listen.  We yell and punish and take things away and distract ourselves with our phones.

And nothing changes.

I need to pay attention.  I need to focus on what motivates her, what she loves, what she hates, who she is.  Focus on who God made her to be. And then help her get there.  Not just because I want a well behaved child but because I've been charged with nurturing and growing a child of our King.

Will you pray it with me?  God, show me my tomatoes. Show me where you are and what I'm missing.  Help me to recognize each and every opportunity you have for me and help me to look up and outside of my box.

Think about it.

The difference it would make in our lives, if we would all start noticing just how rogue God can be.

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When all that's next are the wars within

I guess it's time.  I was only in Argentina for a week.  But it's taken a month and a half and two vacations for me to readjust.

 Our trip was great. Had an awesome team of people loving on an awesome organization whose soul purpose in life is to love those who matter most.  But I only got one week.  I wasn't ready to come home.

But I did. And I stumbled back into routine, more like flailing around looking for something or someone to steady me.

My cousin, who also has a heart for international missions, said to me, "I can't wait to see what you take with you, what you leave there and what you bring back."

I took an unbridled, burning passion with me.  Children are my calling. I've dreamed of rocking orphan babies and running wild with kids on the street.  I boarded the plane with that dream in my pocket.  I knew they needed me.

I left that dream and my pride on the doorstep of the orphanage. They don't need me.  Don't read this wrong, they are honored and thrilled when we visit.  But they don't need me.  These children, they've already been adopted.

Adopted into the kingdom, by a Father who never fails.

They are loved and cared for by a staff that puts any ministry I've ever been in to shame. And I've been involved with some incredible ministries.  These women are selfless saints. They are with the children 24/7.  They work tirelessly to feed the kids 3 filling meals a day.  They clean and change diapers and kiss boo boos of 26 children and somehow manage to laugh and praise our heavenly Father through it all. They have an unfailing dependency on God that has been all but lost in American culture.  I've never felt the presence of God in a place, not even in church, like I felt within the doors of Puerta Del Cielo.  Fitting that their name translates "Gate of Heaven."  I left my heart within those gates.

I brought back, initially, a lot of confusion.  I could have stayed, I wanted to stay.  But I wasn't called to that. So I came home asking "What next?"

I researched children's homes close by that would allow me to volunteer.  I contacted my local church to pursue other partnerships for the orphanage. And everywhere I looked, everywhere I turned, I never felt God.

Did he call me on this missions trip just to bring me home to my unchanged routine?  Is everything supposed to go back to being the same?

This is a question I hadn't been able to answer, until a few weeks ago.

We've been in a series at church called #Trending and it's all about what is trending in our lives.  This particular sermon was called Self Control vs. Self Indulgence.  And the pastor said

"God would rather you win the wars within yourself than any wars for the kingdom."

Really?  I can't sit still.  I want to go, I want to do, I want to help.

Everyone but myself.

Where is God in my daily routine?  Where is God in my home?

What battles do I need to face and win in my personal life?

It's interesting isn't it?  We are all called to love, serve, give ourselves away.  But what if what you have to give isn't ready to be given?

It's different for everyone.  And this is where you have to take it before God, yourself, and ask if he's called you to pour yourself out in this season. Or if this is a time where you need to look inward and focus upward.

God called me to Argentina, I have no doubt.  His hand was on that trip and is on the orphanage.  But as for what's next...

I have some wars within myself I need to fight.

I need to start paying attention to the people around me.  Not the strangers I see in the store or the guy who delivers my mail, I need to pay attention to those who are in my closest circles.  This is a true battlefield for me.  I'm selfish and self centered and mostly self indulging.  I am asking God to open my eyes to the needs of my husband, my daughter, my family and my friends.  Help me God to honor you by paying attention to them.

And this paying attention, it starts with slowing down.  I honestly don't think I know how to do that.  Husband R begs me not to pack our weekends.  Yet I can't tell you the last time we weren't traveling or the last time we just sat around on a Saturday.  I need to figure out how to not be bored in my own home. How to relish the time spent not doing anything.  I'm asking God to show me how to be still.

Then there's my heart.  Matthew 15:18 "But the words you speak come from the heart--that's what defiles you."  Some of the things I say...man, they make my heart look like one ugly gal.  This isn't an optional battle for me to win. It's an absolute must. I'm focusing on getting God's word in every day. Even if it's just snippets I can grab in between all the mess cleaning and nose wiping.  I need my words to bring life, not death. I'm asking God to breathe life into me so I can breathe life into others.

There are many many more, but for now, in this season, these are my mission fields.  My war zones. I will win the battles within, so that when He calls again, and He will,  I will be ready and prepared to fight for His Kingdom.

What are some of the battles you're facing?  Do you have trouble staying focused on the wars within?

Your comment makes my day!

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I interrupt this blog to turn 30

I don't even know where to begin.  All those cliches about not having the right words and not enough words or any words at all.  That just happened.

What do you do when all of your PEOPLE are your people at the same time in the same place?

Cry when your sister who lives hundreds of miles away steps through your front door.

Scream when friends you haven't seen in a year or more walk into your living room.

Laugh when balloons and decorations are recycled from previous parties.

Dance like no one is watching or like everyone is.

And then this.

A book full of letters from family and friends from those who matter most.

When did I become so blessed?

How does a heart take all of this in and not explode?  A mind wrap itself around the thoughts and words and love pouring from each page?

Dad

 You fill my soul to overflowing.  Overwhelming.

Dylan

Kristen

Brittany Gardner

Thank you for being my friend, for encouraging and inspiring and teaching me.  I pray I never take for granted the gifts God has given me in each and every one of you.

Jess

From the bottom of my heart to the tips of my toes and everything in between, thank you for what you are, what you've allowed me to become, and what we will always be.

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A little tiny update and a gigantically huge thank you

I leave for Argentina in 1 week and 2 days.   

Ready for this? 

You've given $3,010.  You've donated 50+lbs of supplies that I'll be packing very tightly into my second bag.

I don't know why I'm surprised.  You are amazing people.  God is even more awesome.  But I am in awe.

With the extra money you've donated, we get to build a new closet for the kids and do some much needed backyard patio work.  We get to buy new sheets and bedding for the kids.  We get to do an hour craft and bible story every day we're there.  We get to take the kids and staff out to lunch and to a movie.  Not one cent of the gifts you've given will go unused. 

I am grateful.

And people keep asking me if I'm excited. And that doesn't really describe what I am.  Yes, I'm a little excited and nervous but more than that I have a feeling of anticipation.  I'm ready to experience the ways God will continue to show himself. 

So, as I'm packing my bags (carefully) and preparing my heart, please remember to pray.  Specifically for travel and safety, but mostly for God to work through us in unimaginable ways.

I will be using http://argentina-mission.blogspot.com/ to write about the trip and to keep everyone updated.

Thank you for your obedience to God's prompting and for your generosity.

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These kids

The fundraising is over.  The money has been raised.  Tickets have been purchased.  But it's all just really beginning, isn't it?

I got this picture in an email today, it was taken on May 8th.

Look at these faces, all 26 of them (even the one hiding).

These are the faces your donations are helping.  These are the faces you've been praying for. They're smiling.  As if they're saying thank you, thank YOU.

These kids.

They already have my heart.

And love, yes, they need love.  I'll give them all that I've got.

But they also need things.  Like shoes. And coloring books. And toothpaste.  If you have some to spare, I'll gladly pick them up or pay for shipping.  Just email me at allyinargentina@gmail.com, or find me on Facebook.

27 days.

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Finding beauty is what makes it worth it - My Messy Beautiful

My three year old, alone, is enough beautiful mess for an entire lifetime of this mama.

The dressing herself, the constant whining, the can I have a snack question every 76 seconds.

Exhausting.  But, gosh, she's beautiful. And messy.

In my 29, never 30 years, I've had a truck load of messy things happen to me. And a boat load of beautiful.

There are stories of death and divorce and sick kids and cancer and overcoming and miracles and joy through the pain. 

And honestly, when I heard about this project and thought about telling my messy beautiful, lots of those stories came to mind.  I've been through some stuff and thankfully back. 

I could tell you about my parents divorcing after 25 years and the miles of suffering and lies I sorted through. And the miles more of healing and closeness that resulted.

Or about the time I had cancer. And the doctors and the surgeries. And the screaming and crying and asking why. And the healthy road to recovery and amazing changes I've made.

But chances are, you've been there or somewhere similar.

It happens. It's life and it's messy. 

Finding beauty is what makes it worth it.  But finding the beautiful is also the most difficult thing to do, a hard place to come to, especially when you're in the midst of the darkness.

The thing is, I know where beauty can be found. By everyone, anywhere, always, forever, without fail.

In the ultimate story of messy beautiful, the only one that actually counts.

There was this baby born to change the world.  But in order to change anything at all he would have to die.  It doesn't get much messier.  Knowing your entire life's purpose is to die. 

Hanging on a cross, beaten and bloodied and naked and stabbed.  Why? Why endure so much pain and anguish?

Because you're worth it.  It's called love.  He did it to save you.

And if you believe that and believe him, you'll carry on forever.

And I know, I know I may not be following the rules. I get that this is too "faithy" for some. I'm aware that by writing this way, I sacrifice my chance to be "known"

All that stuff, it's messy.  But I'm okay with it.

Because just one of you getting this...that's beautiful.

Here's the glorious part.  We don't have to wait til we have it all together...because we never ever will. We get to take our divorces and our sickness and our pain and lay it at his feet.  He gets to take it and not erase it, but use it and grow us and change us for good.

We are the messy, but He is our beautiful.

So #carryonwarrior knowing your not alone.  That you have a savior who knows your messy and loves you all the way to beautiful again.

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