My husband is in Haiti right now. The last time I spoke with him was Monday morning soon after I woke up. He had just landed in Miami and would be heading off to Haiti about an hour from then. It was a short conversation that went something like: Where is that one check that I'm supposed to deposit? Somewhere on my desk. So, is there a contact number in case of emergencies? I don't think so. Can you call while you are there? I'm pretty sure there will not be a satellite phone available after all. Don't worry. No news is good news. I should be able to call you Friday when we are back in Port au Prince. Ok, I love you. I love you too. Bye. (Sigh)
The kids and I left later that afternoon to visit with my grandmother. In fact it was about 3 hours later than we were supposed to because there was a lot more cleaning to do than I realized and my children were going through sugar withdrawal. The 2 hour car ride consisted of about 45 minutes of crying from the 2 year old. We finally got there around 7:30, rushed through eating dinner, and then tried to calm them down to get to bed, which finally happened around 10:30. But it was ok. We were there and had fun things planned. And I don't get to see my 70 year old grandmother often. We were going to go to the park and to the beach and to look at some light display that grandma found out about and eat lots of home made goodness. When the kids were in bed my grandmother and I were going to drink a glass of wine and talk about her rich German history or all the places she traveled with 3 young girls as a military wife or whatever. But it didn't turn out quite like that. I spent 1/2 the time breaking up fights b/w my boys or trying to keep them from destroying her house. We did have fun at the park and beach - even after getting rained on, and the home made goodness was extra good. But 2 of my 3 boys slept through the lights. Grandma and I didn't have much energy after the boys went to bed, so we just watched a show and then crashed. The next day was spent with more discipline and a nice, but exhausting trip to some botanical gardens. Nice because there were some neat plants that my boys enjoyed learning about; exhausting because my 4 year old did not like to stay on the path or respect the nature. This was followed up with a 40 minute ride back to grandma's house, 30 of which consisted of more crying from the 2 year old. I was ready to get home and crash, and boy did I miss my husband. I slept well in my own bed last night knowing that when we woke up I at least would not have to worry about my children destroying grandma's home.
But waking up came with it's own set of frustrations. I didn't remember that our electricity needed to be paid. Who thinks about an electric bill when there are cookies to bake and food to cook and ornaments to paint and a trip to somewhat prepare for and a grandmother to visit? Maybe you do, but I didn't. We at least had heat through the night. And my mom is amazing enough to bail me out when I forget to budget for electricity. But oh my, did my stress level peak. I had had enough and could not deal with one more thing. And here, there were so many more things to deal with - wet jeans in the wash, play dates to be had with friends visiting from out of town (who I anxiously wanted to see), and children to get dressed and fed. Not to mention that gnawing feeling of doubt that no news was really good news. I began the pity party (I throw them often). I started thinking that I must be crazy to think that I could home school these boys, and why would I want to adopt? I can't even keep the electricity on in our home! Why would I think that any of these things are good ideas? They should be in school and I should get a job and then we could have some much needed breaks away from each other. Not to mention the financial ease we would feel if we had two incomes. But as I thought these thoughts, I began to feel like a failure and then I got more and more anxious and frustrated with my life and myself. So, at the peak of my stress, what did I do? I did not pray to God for strength or even take a deep breath. I picked up a chair, quickly make sure the children were far enough away and threw it. It of course landed on my toe. Yep, my big toe, which is very important in helping you walk. And why? Because I do not instinctively turn to God. I bottle up my trivial frustrations and then explode.
Now, some of you might say, "No, those are not trivial frustrations." If you are saying that, it is because you are one of the sweet people in my life who make me feel better about all of my flaws. Thank you for that. But, they are trivial frustrations. See after the fire had subsided and I picked up a check from my mom and went to half of the play date, the younger kids fell asleep and I actually got to sit down with a (cold) cup of coffee (because the electricity was still not back on) and read. I picked up David Platt's book, Radical. I am barely into this book, but I have to say, it is a must read. One of the first things he talks about is meeting with church leaders in Asia who risk their lives to learn about Christ - just to learn about Him! And then he comments that "we were settling for a Christianity that revolves around catering to ourselves when the central message of Christianity is actually about abandoning ourselves." And there's that conviction that I love to feel. Then I start to think again about the fact that my husband is in Haiti. He is working crazy hours while eating the small amount of food he could bring and sleeping in a tent to help people who do not have the homes we have or access to electricity or basic medical care. I think of the conversation I'm going to have with him when he comes home. "Oh, that chair is wobbly because I was frustrated that our children were not perfect angels and that our lovely home that is almost always equipped with clean running water and central heat and air momentarily had the electricity turned off." So, yes, my frustrations are trivial. See, my frustrations are based on things not working out the way I want them to. I want to show off my sweet pleasant boys to my grandmother and then to discuss our family's history over a glass of wine. I want to be on top of everything: the cookies, the food, the ornaments AND the bills. I want my mom to not be burdened with my forgetfulness. I want to be this certain type of Mom, but I'm not. Oh, that's so hard to admit. I'm not the supermom that I want to be. But, if I die to that view of myself and to my wants, then I can embrace Christ. I can go get dirty with my kids at my grandma's house and I can suck it up when I forget a bill because bills are not things of eternity. And I can forgive myself for the bruised or possibly broken toe because even toes are not things of eternity. When I embrace Christ I can be grateful for healthy children and our home and my family that has my back when finances get squeezed. And only when I embrace Christ can I send my husband off to Haiti without him having doubts of how his family will be or love (like 1Corinthians kind of love) my children who are so, so stubborn or confidently invite a child who has already gone through so much into our home knowing that he or she will feel safe and loved.
"Abandon myself, die to myself, let the doing come from the being." Are these posts feeling redundant to you? They are to me. These are the lessons that I keep trying to learn over and over and over again. Isn't God good to keep patiently teaching them? He keeps patiently whispering, "Just come to me. Drop all of your wants and burdens and expectations and sit here on my lap and read my words. Be content with what I offer. You will not be able to do much without the peace that only I can give." And I keep pulling up my boot straps and trying to conquer life on my own. Lord, please help me to let go of all the things that keep me from you. Help me to lean on you instead of my own strength. You have already made the ultimate sacrifice, so help me to trust you. And Lord, I pray this for all Christians who, like me, are so tempted to let our faith revolve around catering to ourselves instead of abandoning ourselves. Amen.
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