By Mary
I think if I'd had more of a clear idea of what this would be like, these months away from each other, I might have said no about you trying to be a Warrant Officer, might have even said let's find something new, something different from this Marine Corps life. If I'd known we'd have another baby, anticipated how hard it would be telling our little girl "not today" every time she asks "daddy come home please?", or understood the ache of saying goodbye to you during this time, maybe it would have never happened, maybe it would all be different.
And maybe that's why I didn't know, because this is how it's supposed to be. So for now I'll just be thankful--that's it's only four months, not seven or twelve or any other length of time. For things like cell phones and Skype, and for the moments when there's actually time in your day to put them to use. For the fact that you cancelled your private promotion ceremony and were the last in your class to be officially promoted so you could drive here to be with me when our son was born.
I think half the reason why I love how much he looks like you is because I can watch this perfect little miniature you and hold him close and his nearness in the room at night somehow makes the time til we're all together again seem a little less long. I know once that time is here, all this won't seem so bad, just another thing we've gotten through and gone past. She'll still be your little girl and you can learn all about this new little boy.
I'm really proud of you and all you've accomplished and how hard you work to excel. And I'm thankful for how much you mean to me and that I can spend all this time missing you.
Tuesday, March 4, 2014
Sunday, February 23, 2014
life abundant
By Mary
My baby boy was due this past Friday, but as it turns out by God's graciousness, I've been holding him in my arms for the past two and a half weeks. He's pure perfection.
I'm so humbled by how intimately and sweetly God has been involved in everything, orchestrating details so perfectly to allow my husband to be there for the birth and the entire first weekend and also for a surprise long weekend over Valentine's Day. There's been a million little blessings so undeserved and I'm just grateful to be living life with eyes open to it all. How much would I miss--have I missed so often in life--by keeping my eyes so fixed on me, rather than Him.
This past summer I laughed with my friend over the Taylor Swift song 22, and how breakfasts at midnight and making fun of exes contrasted with the 22nd years we were living out in our lives--where we talked about our husbands and homes, job, babies, my newly discovered pregnancy.
There seem to be a million lists out there in the world at large about things you should do and be and experience before 25 and all of it seems so selfish to me. It's about self-fulfillment and living up life and making the most of your dreams and tasting what life has to offer. Which all sounds nice...I get the traveling bug sometimes and wish I could be in another country again. And occasionally I think about if I should have done the college thing. Mostly I just remember how nice sleeping in used to be. But I'm so thankful I was taught that life isn't about me and that sacrifice isn't just a kill-joy for those who lack vision or strong will.
I'm so thankful to taste of the abundant life God gives in a heart given over to Him and His purposes, thankful for more than just shallow pleasures. And even when it doesn't feel as happy and rewarding as it does in my life right now, I'm thankful to be assured that His ways are truly best and His rewards are beyond compare.
My baby boy was due this past Friday, but as it turns out by God's graciousness, I've been holding him in my arms for the past two and a half weeks. He's pure perfection.
I'm so humbled by how intimately and sweetly God has been involved in everything, orchestrating details so perfectly to allow my husband to be there for the birth and the entire first weekend and also for a surprise long weekend over Valentine's Day. There's been a million little blessings so undeserved and I'm just grateful to be living life with eyes open to it all. How much would I miss--have I missed so often in life--by keeping my eyes so fixed on me, rather than Him.
This past summer I laughed with my friend over the Taylor Swift song 22, and how breakfasts at midnight and making fun of exes contrasted with the 22nd years we were living out in our lives--where we talked about our husbands and homes, job, babies, my newly discovered pregnancy.
There seem to be a million lists out there in the world at large about things you should do and be and experience before 25 and all of it seems so selfish to me. It's about self-fulfillment and living up life and making the most of your dreams and tasting what life has to offer. Which all sounds nice...I get the traveling bug sometimes and wish I could be in another country again. And occasionally I think about if I should have done the college thing. Mostly I just remember how nice sleeping in used to be. But I'm so thankful I was taught that life isn't about me and that sacrifice isn't just a kill-joy for those who lack vision or strong will.
I'm so thankful to taste of the abundant life God gives in a heart given over to Him and His purposes, thankful for more than just shallow pleasures. And even when it doesn't feel as happy and rewarding as it does in my life right now, I'm thankful to be assured that His ways are truly best and His rewards are beyond compare.
"You make known to me the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore."
Tuesday, February 11, 2014
i am the disaster
by Alanna
I teach 21 first graders (the last added as of yesterday), and all of them are unique in their own ways. Four of them I call my troublemakers, those whom I'm constantly reminding to pay attention, to stay seated, to keep silence when I'm talking, to do their work. One of those I've seen such immense progress in this year, and particularly today. It made my heart happy because today he TRIED (for I think the first time ever since school started), and received a grade in the 80s. The class as a whole has progressed too. They know the procedures for lining up outside the door after recess, for working in their books, for singing songs and playing games.
Despite all this, I've been quite discouraged and overwhelmed by one of my students who has digressed considerably since Christmas. I call him my disaster. His favorite hobbies these days are spitting, on anything and everything, crawling around on the floor, and singing loud songs about his classmates while I'm trying to teach. My relationship with him has unfortunately also degenerated. Some mornings I try to give him positive reinforcement, but it only lasts as long as he displays any positive behavior. By the time we are to morning math class, my only communication with him is yelling or stern directions.The area surrounding his desk is reminiscent of the cloud surrounding Pig Pen in Charlie Brown.
I need supernatural wisdom, strength, grace, patience, and love for this one. So I cling to the Vine and ask Him to produce these things in me, because I am so lacking. And then I come to realize. I am the disaster. I am the one returning to the floor, after His hands have lovingly directed me back to my seat hundreds of times. I am the one losing my pencil 4 times in an afternoon, forgetting all He's shown me. I am the one impatient to speak, failing to be silent before Him, too eager to pour out my woes. And oh what love He has shown me. His patience and His grace toward me have no boundaries. My Father's heart harbors no frustration, because all His holy wrath was already poured out on His Son. His love is strong enough to pick me back up again and remake me new. His love is strong enough to forgive me a thousand times, to grow me, to change me. I don't want to forget, that here in this disaster of a child, is the reflection of my own wayward heart. I want to be reminded of God's love for us, and I want Him to give me even just a tiny portion of that love for these entrusted to me.
I teach 21 first graders (the last added as of yesterday), and all of them are unique in their own ways. Four of them I call my troublemakers, those whom I'm constantly reminding to pay attention, to stay seated, to keep silence when I'm talking, to do their work. One of those I've seen such immense progress in this year, and particularly today. It made my heart happy because today he TRIED (for I think the first time ever since school started), and received a grade in the 80s. The class as a whole has progressed too. They know the procedures for lining up outside the door after recess, for working in their books, for singing songs and playing games.
Despite all this, I've been quite discouraged and overwhelmed by one of my students who has digressed considerably since Christmas. I call him my disaster. His favorite hobbies these days are spitting, on anything and everything, crawling around on the floor, and singing loud songs about his classmates while I'm trying to teach. My relationship with him has unfortunately also degenerated. Some mornings I try to give him positive reinforcement, but it only lasts as long as he displays any positive behavior. By the time we are to morning math class, my only communication with him is yelling or stern directions.The area surrounding his desk is reminiscent of the cloud surrounding Pig Pen in Charlie Brown.
I need supernatural wisdom, strength, grace, patience, and love for this one. So I cling to the Vine and ask Him to produce these things in me, because I am so lacking. And then I come to realize. I am the disaster. I am the one returning to the floor, after His hands have lovingly directed me back to my seat hundreds of times. I am the one losing my pencil 4 times in an afternoon, forgetting all He's shown me. I am the one impatient to speak, failing to be silent before Him, too eager to pour out my woes. And oh what love He has shown me. His patience and His grace toward me have no boundaries. My Father's heart harbors no frustration, because all His holy wrath was already poured out on His Son. His love is strong enough to pick me back up again and remake me new. His love is strong enough to forgive me a thousand times, to grow me, to change me. I don't want to forget, that here in this disaster of a child, is the reflection of my own wayward heart. I want to be reminded of God's love for us, and I want Him to give me even just a tiny portion of that love for these entrusted to me.
Saturday, February 8, 2014
by Alanna
dear little one,
I miss you today. Perhaps because these mornings I've been praying for you early, and then you stay in my mind. I pray for God to give you joy, to build up your little heart in peace and contentment. I ask for Him to draw you to Himself at a young age, to show you what a miracle you are, and the love He has for you. I ask Him to help you be obedient, submissive to your parents so that you can learn submission to Him. You are growing up, in a lovely family and blessed beyond measure. I don't wish you anywhere else than where God has you. So this feeling is harder to describe now. It's not grief or despair, and it's not purely longing. But it is an ache, a pull of my heart towards yours. I feel your country in my veins today, and this strange pull of my soul there. Here I am in Honduras, with my husband, the man who never got to meet you but who holds me these days when I cry for you. Your birth place is so far away, and the place where you live now even farther. I am where I am meant to be, and so are you my darling. But my heart is knit to you, and so I think of the way your tiny body felt nestled against mine. I remember the tears shed, the miracles wrought, the laughter shared. This love for you grows only stronger, over these years. So I pour out my mother love where it was meant to be poured out, at the feet of Jesus in supplication and thanksgiving for you. You are precious beyond compare my little one. Grow strong. Even though you do not see or feel my love, I pray that it flows from my heart to our Father, and back again to you in floods immeasurable.
I love you with all my heart.
Friday, January 31, 2014
an impromptu trip
by Alanna
My husband and I just got back last night from an impromptu trip to Tegucigalpa (the capital city, about a 3 1/2 hour bus drive from our home in Catacamas). In Honduran style, we didn't find out we were leaving until the night before. The purpose of the trip was to get our permanent residency status here (we've already overstayed our 3-month visa by quite a while).
We drove to Tegucigalpa with one of the teachers from school. Made a stop at his house to drop things off, and then at a Pulperia for Yonas and I to get food for the drive. We pulled just off the highway twice more, for the teacher to buy beans and then milk and cheese in bag (to carry as gifts to his sister in the capital). We were only slightly slowed down by the normal Honduran things- potholes, a herd of cows, the police barricades. Off the highway twice more for coffee- first unsuccessfully as they were out, and second at a small red table by the roadside. There we enjoyed sweet coffee and bread, and Yonas tried a greenish-gray drink in a bag called Jugo de Cana (Cane Juice). The drive through this country is so incredibly beautiful- all mountainous and green.
In Tegucigalpa the traffic is crazy! Stoplights might help with the general chaos, but one unreversable problem is that there seems to have been no planning involved when the city was built. The word "haphazard" doesn't do justice in describing the "layout" of the streets. In our one night and day there, we had Wendy's, Subway, and Pizza Hut- all rare treats that don't exist in Catacamas. We also got a free night's hotel stay, free breakfast, and a TV to watch a soccer game. Getting our residency status was fast, although they did question about our visas being so over expired. In Honduras, fast is incredible and efficiency seems to be rare.
Sometimes I'm tempted to complain here, and it's so foolish. Here is so much beauty. This country we live in, the love we have for each other, the kids and coworkers at school. The fact that we hold U.S. passports. The mercy of Jesus who makes all things new. Every day is beauty because everyday is a gift from Him, each breath grace. I'm thankful to recognize that grace these past few days in a different place. It helps me to be thankful for what we have.
My husband and I just got back last night from an impromptu trip to Tegucigalpa (the capital city, about a 3 1/2 hour bus drive from our home in Catacamas). In Honduran style, we didn't find out we were leaving until the night before. The purpose of the trip was to get our permanent residency status here (we've already overstayed our 3-month visa by quite a while).
We drove to Tegucigalpa with one of the teachers from school. Made a stop at his house to drop things off, and then at a Pulperia for Yonas and I to get food for the drive. We pulled just off the highway twice more, for the teacher to buy beans and then milk and cheese in bag (to carry as gifts to his sister in the capital). We were only slightly slowed down by the normal Honduran things- potholes, a herd of cows, the police barricades. Off the highway twice more for coffee- first unsuccessfully as they were out, and second at a small red table by the roadside. There we enjoyed sweet coffee and bread, and Yonas tried a greenish-gray drink in a bag called Jugo de Cana (Cane Juice). The drive through this country is so incredibly beautiful- all mountainous and green.
In Tegucigalpa the traffic is crazy! Stoplights might help with the general chaos, but one unreversable problem is that there seems to have been no planning involved when the city was built. The word "haphazard" doesn't do justice in describing the "layout" of the streets. In our one night and day there, we had Wendy's, Subway, and Pizza Hut- all rare treats that don't exist in Catacamas. We also got a free night's hotel stay, free breakfast, and a TV to watch a soccer game. Getting our residency status was fast, although they did question about our visas being so over expired. In Honduras, fast is incredible and efficiency seems to be rare.
Sometimes I'm tempted to complain here, and it's so foolish. Here is so much beauty. This country we live in, the love we have for each other, the kids and coworkers at school. The fact that we hold U.S. passports. The mercy of Jesus who makes all things new. Every day is beauty because everyday is a gift from Him, each breath grace. I'm thankful to recognize that grace these past few days in a different place. It helps me to be thankful for what we have.
Friday, January 17, 2014
when you feel small
by Alanna
Being a Christian is an uphill battle, when we choose to engage in the fight. I’ve found that in some ways it’s easier to sit on the sidelines. Whatever lies and forces of darkness assail me, they seem to give me a respite when I’m not interceding for others or seeking God’s face. Then I don’t battle, but I don’t grow either. Satan doesn’t mind stagnancy I think. When I pray, I feel supported by God and comforted by Him, but I also feel ten times attacked. Lately I’ve grown weary, wanting to see answers to prayer, wanting to see God move. I pray for things that I can’t accomplish. I’m so needy for Him. My hands are tied and I’m incapable of changing these situations, other people’s hearts or my own. Where else can I go? He alone has the words of eternal life; He alone has the resurrecting power. I’ve felt small these days, dependent on Him. He heals the sick, casts out demons, raises the dead. He can save; He can conquer sin in us and those we love. Last week my heart searched for answers, and I asked God Why is this battle so hard sometimes? If we are being conformed to the image of Christ, why don’t I see more noticeable victories? I read this in the book “Knowing God” by J.I. Packer and decided to quote it at length here, because I think I believe it now.
Being a Christian is an uphill battle, when we choose to engage in the fight. I’ve found that in some ways it’s easier to sit on the sidelines. Whatever lies and forces of darkness assail me, they seem to give me a respite when I’m not interceding for others or seeking God’s face. Then I don’t battle, but I don’t grow either. Satan doesn’t mind stagnancy I think. When I pray, I feel supported by God and comforted by Him, but I also feel ten times attacked. Lately I’ve grown weary, wanting to see answers to prayer, wanting to see God move. I pray for things that I can’t accomplish. I’m so needy for Him. My hands are tied and I’m incapable of changing these situations, other people’s hearts or my own. Where else can I go? He alone has the words of eternal life; He alone has the resurrecting power. I’ve felt small these days, dependent on Him. He heals the sick, casts out demons, raises the dead. He can save; He can conquer sin in us and those we love. Last week my heart searched for answers, and I asked God Why is this battle so hard sometimes? If we are being conformed to the image of Christ, why don’t I see more noticeable victories? I read this in the book “Knowing God” by J.I. Packer and decided to quote it at length here, because I think I believe it now.
“This is what all the work of grace aims at- an ever deeper
knowledge of God, and an ever closer fellowship with Him. Grace is God drawing
us sinners closer and closer to Himself.”
(Yes! This is what I want. To be drawn closer and closer to
Him.)
“How does God in grace prosecute this purpose? Not by
shielding us from assault by the world, the flesh and the devil, nor by
protecting us from burdensome and frustrating circumstances, nor yet by
shielding us from troubles created by our own temperament and psychology; but
rather by exposing us to all these things, so
as to overwhelm us with a sense of our inadequacy, and to drive us to cling to
him more closely. This is the ultimate reason, from our standpoint, why God
fills our lives with troubles and perplexities of one sort and another: it is to ensure that we shall learn to hold
Him fast. The reason why the Bible spends so much of its time reiterating
that God is a strong rock, a firm defense, and a sure refuge and help for the
weak, is that God spends so much of his time bringing home to us that we are
weak, both mentally and morally….God wants us to feel that our way through life
is rough and perplexing, so that we may learn thankfully to lean on Him.
Therefore He takes steps to drive us out of self-confidence to trust in
Himself.” (The Knowledge of God, J.I. Packer, p. 250)
Praise God, who drives self-confidence out of me. He is my
refuge and my sure defense. With this in mind I battle, interceding for those I
love, and when forces come against me, He is my shield. When we feel small, may
we find in Him all our adequacy. He is so good to us!
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
life is hard
By Mary
It feels a little silly using this post title since it's been a wonderful first couple weeks of the new year for our family. (And my mom is flying out tomorrow to stay with us!! Helping with the end of my pregnancy and baby number 2. I'm just a leeetle bit excited)
I'm not sure when the thought first really started sticking in my head...I think I read something along those lines, probably in some half-read blog post in the last month or so. And it came back to my mind last week, a bunch of us talking with my friend about her upcoming third son--less than 18 months older than her second son. And just how having little kids/babies is a tough stage of motherhood. But it was the older ladies' perspective that really made me think--one talked about teenagers--"bigger kids, bigger problems. And young adults are hard too because then you have no control!" But she so loves the kind of relationships she can have with her adult children.
And I thought how true it is...life is hard. It's not just the stage you're in or the people in your life. It's not what you have, or have not. Not singleness or marriage or your job or unemployment or toddlers or teens or not enough time or too much time on your hands. It's not any one factor of your life that is hard. Life is just hard, imperfect and broken. The next thing won't always be easier, or better, even if its what you want. So lets enjoy today for what it is and live it fully as we wait for our King to come again.
It feels a little silly using this post title since it's been a wonderful first couple weeks of the new year for our family. (And my mom is flying out tomorrow to stay with us!! Helping with the end of my pregnancy and baby number 2. I'm just a leeetle bit excited)
I'm not sure when the thought first really started sticking in my head...I think I read something along those lines, probably in some half-read blog post in the last month or so. And it came back to my mind last week, a bunch of us talking with my friend about her upcoming third son--less than 18 months older than her second son. And just how having little kids/babies is a tough stage of motherhood. But it was the older ladies' perspective that really made me think--one talked about teenagers--"bigger kids, bigger problems. And young adults are hard too because then you have no control!" But she so loves the kind of relationships she can have with her adult children.
And I thought how true it is...life is hard. It's not just the stage you're in or the people in your life. It's not what you have, or have not. Not singleness or marriage or your job or unemployment or toddlers or teens or not enough time or too much time on your hands. It's not any one factor of your life that is hard. Life is just hard, imperfect and broken. The next thing won't always be easier, or better, even if its what you want. So lets enjoy today for what it is and live it fully as we wait for our King to come again.
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