Flour and Water

Disclaimer:  this post is going to be completely different than all my others. I realize that this blog is about my walk with Christ and is far from a food blog but I had so much fun baking and decorating Briana and Christopher’s wedding cake that I just had to share it! So if baking blogs aren’t your thing, I won't be offended if you take a pass at this post.

For those of you for whom baking/cooking blogs are you’re thing, I’m sorry. This will probably be terrible as this isn’t really my forte. To be honest, I HATE baking blogs. I’m constantly finding cool recipes on Pinterest only to have to scroll though someone life story and their son’s life story about why they were making these type of cookies to take to the park today and blah blah blah –  I just need to know your ratio of butter to flour, not why you were feeling sad today! I don’t care why you made them just how you made them! Anywho………

So last summer my good friends were sharing some of their wedding plans with me and mentioned they were going to do sheet cake. Now, I have nothing against sheet cake (and in my honest opinion the chocolate sheet cake they had at their wedding was a hundred times better than the cake I made for them, seriously ) but I said, “Oh you should have a small pretty cake to cut! I’ll make you one!” Cause I’m thinking to myself, "I’ve been making cakes since I was 8. They’re not hard. People tell me my cakes are yummy. I’ll just frost it white. Presto. I’m a wedding cake baker." Wrong. So, so wrong.

I start casually looking up wedding cakes (small wedding cakes) on Pinterest and I start to have a panic attack. "I can’t do this!" Did you know you need to put wooden dowels in wedding cakes so they don’t collapse on themselves?! I didn’t! I never even thought about the layers collapsing into the bottom layers. Uh-oh. There was a lot about wedding cakes I didn’t know.

As my confidence waned, I made a deal with Bri and Chris, I would have a test cake ready for them sometime in December and if they didn’t like it or I didn’t feel confident in my ability to complete it up to my standards then they would have plenty of time before the wedding to make other arrangements.

Buttercream Frosting

Strawberry Filling

So December grew closer and I just assumed I had everything I would need in my kitchen already. Yeah, no. “Wait, what? You don’t want a Bundt wedding cake?! But I’m good at Bundts!” Oh well. After a trip to Hobby Lobby to purchase all sorts of special wedding cake paraphernalia I didn’t even know existed I start talking specifics with Bri and Chris about what type of cake they want. Strawberry they tell me. Hmm. Definitely not my first pick (but then again I have the belief that if it’s not chocolate it’s not worth putting in your mouth -thus the chocolate sheet cake being AMAZING!) So anyways I had never made a strawberry cake so I started researching strawberry cake recipes on Pinterest and found one that seemed the least artificial and decided on a simple buttercream frosting I had used previously for other projects. I ran a few different frosting techniques by Bri and Chris that I thought I could possibly manage and they picked a few that they liked and I moved forward to see what I could create out of this flour and water.

Leaning tower of cake. 

The first test cake was a disaster. I did three tiers. Way too much cake. Also I couldn’t figure out how to cook the big 12 inch cake without burning the edges and still have the middle cooked. I saw on some tutorials that they scraped out the middle just to get to cook or placed towels around the sides to slow the cooking process. I tried both. Honestly, I’d rather do neither.  So I resolved never to bake a cake that big again. By the time I finished baked all the layers, cutting the layers (which is near impossible to do evenly I discovered), made the filling, filled the cake, stacked the cake, put the support dowels in, I was exhausted. And then I realized nothing was even. If you didn’t cut the layers perfectly, it wasn’t even. If you didn’t put the filling in perfectly, it wasn’t even. If you didn't put the dowels in perfect, it wasn't even. I figured I could even it all out when I frosted it. Wrong, once again. The whole thing was a huge (literally – it was three tiers for petes sake!) mess.  So I texted Bri and told her not to bother come look at the thing and that I would try again in a few weeks…. *sigh* I slid the cake into the refrigerator and quickly discovered that my grandpa greatly enjoys strawberry cake and over the next week it slowly disappeared which is impressive because again – it was three tiers (with three layers of cake and two layers of filling in each tier!).  Yeah, we monitor my grandpa for diabetes every so often.

Second Test Run

So a few weeks later I tried again, this time just one tier (well it was supposed to be two but the bottom one just fell apart and I gave up on it. So I served it to my brother's in-laws. They didn't seem to mind. But lets's just say I was shooting for one tier). Practice definitely makes perfect, or at least improvement, I felt comfortable enough to show Bri and Chris this one. I wasn’t totally happy with it but I didn’t hate it either. At least it tasted good. At least that’s what the non-chocolate-only people told me (but can you really trust those people).  Bri and Chris gave me some feedback and we decided to make the cake layers thicker and the filling layers thinner.  So with my new confidence and few adjustments we pressed onward!

Four months later I did one last test run. By this time I had the cake and filling down pat and just needed to work on my frosting technique. I had found some new tools at Hobby Lobby and talked with Bri and Chris about tweaking the frosting style just to see how we liked it. We all ended up loving it!  

 

Final Test Run!

However, a new panic had started to creep in. How in the world was I going to get this cake to Rockford without ruining it?! So I told Bri and Chris that I wanted to practice driving with it so I’d bring the third and final test cake to them. I’m glad I practiced because the first turn out of my street the cake went sliding right into the car door. So much for my perfect frosting job! On the last trial run we decided to add gypsophila and a pearl “H” they had recently received as a gift to finish off the look. Now all that was left was to wait for the actual wedding!

Two days before the wedding I was baking up a storm and fighting a nasty cold that was quickly turning into laryngitis and bronchitis. I really did try hard not to cough or sneeze on the cakes, guys!  By Thursday night I had the whole thing baked, assembled, and frosted. All that was left was to perfect the icing effect. Friday morning I got busy with a flurry of wedding activities but I manage to ice the cake before we left. I’m not gonna lie, I was over wedding cakes by this point! My husband, perfect as always, rode the whole way to Rockford holding the cake steady on the back seat.

Final Product!

Well, we made it to Rockford in one piece and delivered it to Chris’ parent’s hotel room but I couldn’t rest easy until it was all set up on the cake table the next day! After lots of fun pampering, rehearsing, and eating, the big day arrived! I got the cake into the reception hall, onto the cake table, and assembled with flowers and accessories with only a few hiccups! But as we are our own worst critics, I definitely wasn’t satisfied with it. I wanted it to be perfect! However, my dear friend Kristy, assured me it looked wonderful and that I was the only one who could see the imperfections (which I'm still not sure is true).  But I figured there was nothing to be done about it now - it was time! It was the wedding day! A few flowers, a pretty cake stand and a good photographer had the final pictures turning out great! I'm not sure if Bri and Chris had more fun eating it or smashing it into each other's faces but either way I'm glad they enjoyed it. And that’s when I swore never to bake a wedding cake again. THE END!

But not really.  As I’ve said time and time again this blog is about my walk with Christ. While baking a wedding cake isn’t inherently good (or inherently evil for that matter), I can say for certain that wedding I baked this cake for was inherently pleasing to God. Briana and Christopher’s desire was to a have a wedding that reflected Christ and his love for His people. His Bride.  I was so blessed to be a part of their wedding and now their marriage. I define blessing as anything that makes me see God more clearly and brings me closer to him. And this wedding certainly did that. The book of Revelation talks about the Church (anyone who has put their trust in Jesus as their savior) being God’s bride. Just as husband loves and cares for his bride so Jesus loves and care for his people. God created marriage to be a reflection of his great love for his people. Briana and Christopher did a wonderful job of pointing people to Christ all day long. From their generous, selfless, and patient spirits on a day that we are told that you can be as selfish as you want to their careful planning to ensure that God be the center of their ceremony - Christ was seen in it all. 

May we all experience God’s never-ending, lavish, scandalous love for us! May we all remember to point to Him in all we do. And may we all be truly blessed today. 

PS: Just for fun: check out the inspiration for the title of this post: 

The Dirty "I" Word: Dealing with Infertility.

So I’ve never wanted to have kids. Never had the desire to be pregnant. Always sounded completely miserable to me. At 8 years old I stated, “why would I bring more kids into the world when there are already so many children that don’t have homes”. 16 years later and still I stick by my 8 year old logic. I really have always struggled with why people felt the need to birth children. It was just ridiculous to me. What was the difference between biological children and adopted children? In my mind, nothing really, if you went into it with the same mindset.

 When I was about 10 I made comment to a lady from our church about an adopted friend’s “real” mom. The women gently corrected me, “Biological mom. His adopted mom is his ‘real’ mom”. That always stuck with me. Just because your child didn’t grow in your body doesn’t mean it not your real child. So I never understood many of friends’ desires to get pregnant. That is, until I was told that getting pregnant wouldn’t be an option for me.

If you asked me in college (just three short years ago) if I’d be blogging about infertility I would’ve said you were crazy, “Why would I blog about that – who cares? I certainly wouldn’t care if I was infertile”. It’s funny how your perspective changes when it’s you.

Since this blog is about my journey with Christ and how he is redeeming my life one piece at a time, I figured I’d share this part of my journey. It probably won’t look like most conversations about infertility but if nothing else, hopefully, it points someone back to the Lord.

So like I said, I never felt the need for biological children. I told Zack this shortly after we started dating, so he knew from the beginning. It was hard for him because he had always dreamed of having his own family. I pointed out that I wasn’t at all against having a family just as long as they didn’t come from my stomach. In the years that followed, leading up to our marriage, I agreed to try to have at least one biological child to satisfy Zack’s lifelong dream of experiencing the “joy” of pregnancy. I agreed because even though it seemed pointless to me, it was important to Zack and I loved him. However, I made one thing very clear: I wasn’t even sure if I could have kids. Zack understood this, but said he still wanted to try and for once, I didn’t argue.

Years of health issues and family history of infertility gave me a clue that maybe God would let me off the hook and I wouldn’t even after worry about holding up my end of the bargain with Zack. And a year ago, we got the confirmation:  “being pregnant isn’t going to happen for you unless you want to try this test, this pill, this shot, this blood test, this surgery”.  Our response: “Nope. Thanks a lot but, no”.  I walked out of that doctors office pretty unmoved as I always had a hunch this would be case, but it’s funny how much you start to want something after you’ve been told “no”.

And then all of sudden, everyone and I mean EVERYone around me was pregnant. People from work, school, church, and even in my family, were getting pregnant and having babies. And then it hit: I would never get to have that. I would never know what it felt like to feel my baby move inside of me, or the excitement of seeing my mom’s face when I told her I was pregnant, never get those adorable maternity pictures, or have people tell me, “she looks just like you!”

I know that God could change our situation in a heartbeat. But I don’t think he will. And I’ll tell you why. I truly believe that God had been prepping me for this moment my whole life. In his grace, he never gave me the desire to have biological children but gave me a heart for orphans and foster kids. He never let me feel the intense desire to long for something that could never be. We have many trials in this life, and I’ve had my fair share.  However, I do believe that for whatever reason, God spared me the horrendous pain that many women feel when they are told they will never be pregnant.

But there is catch. I do feel pain now. I never expected I would. But it’s been hard. Harder than I would’ve ever imagine. I’ve had to check my heart as I’ve struggled with jealously and bitterness as I’ve watched the pregnant women around me dance with joy. So the question I ask myself, “Why did God protect me by never giving the desire to have children but then is allowing me to feel the grief I do now?” And I think I may have figured it out. There are two answers: one points to my dirty, stained heart. The other, points to the Lord.

The first answer:

I’m a dirty, flawed sinner. I’ve had to check my heart throughout this whole process and I’ve realized something, and it isn’t pleasant. In our society, we give a lot of preference to pregnant women. Pregnant women get carte blanche to do whatever they want and people just gush over them day and night. Maybe I just want that. Maybe I’m jealous that I won’t get a closer parking spot because of the tiny human inside me. Maybe I pissed that I won’t ever get to wake Zack up in the middle of the night and demand chunky peanut butter and egg rolls! Maybe part of me is just bitter that everything won’t be about me for 9 months! “Everyone else gets their moment in the spotlight and what about me?” Me. Me. Me. Me.

What horrible things to write about yourself and know that they are true. Nonetheless, I’ve got to be honest with you and these are the things I’ve realized about myself. I’ve taken something that many women find extremely painful and made it about me. However, the point of this whole blog is to point people to Christ and, I hope, by demonstrating how imperfect I am, I hope you can see how perfect He is. This leads me to the second answer.

Compassion. Empathy. Understanding. While I’ll never know the full pain of infertility because I haven’t longed for it my whole life or built my dreams around having biological children. I do know the sting of watching my friends get pregnant and experience the miracle of birth and know I will never have that.  I was always callous to the plight of women who struggled with infertility because in my mind “there were plenty of kids in the world who need homes! Who needs to bring more into the world?” Now, my response is a little different: “I’m so sorry things haven’t work out the way you always hoped and dreamed but there is hope to build a family. A family built around a child who otherwise wouldn’t have a family.” My tone has changed for condescending to compassionate. From frustrated to patient.  From ignorant to understanding.

This is why I believe God has allowed me to experience all of this and is why I share it with you now. I believe God is once again revealing to me my own sinful nature and therefore my dependence on him. But he's also prepping me to effectively minister to the women struggling with this issue, that he may bring into my life. Once again, God is redeeming all parts of my life so that I can, hopefully, look a little bit more like him. 

So to my friends whom God has blessed with beautiful children and fertile bodies: please don’t ever be afraid to share with me the joys of your pregnancy! I want to hear about your life! And I want to engage in your joy! But please remember that not all women who struggle with infertility feel the same so practice compassion and discretion as you interact with these women.

And to my friends who have been told that its just not in the cards for you: I’m sorry. I’m sorry that for the first 23 years of my life, I treated you with contempt and frustration. I realize that for many women, this being pregnant is something they’ve dreamed of their whole lives and their world is crashing in around them. I realize now how difficult it is. I’ve felt the pain of watching the people in my life rejoice over something I know I will never experience. Even for someone, who never dreamed of being pregnant, it’s a difficult place to be.

 So my dear friends, grieve. And grieve well. But then remember that God did not give us a spirit of self-pity and indulgence. There is hope for you to have a family! Out there is a child who is waiting for you. You can have the special privilege of giving a child love and home that they would may not otherwise have. Please never minimize how significant this is.

I also wanted to write all this so that people knew where we are at. After almost three years of marriage, I’ve gotten used to the “when are you going to get pregnant” question. So here’s my answer, once and for all: Probably never. But it’s ok. Because God’s got bigger things in store for us and we are so excited to start this next chapter of our journey.

Zack and I have decided to adopt through the foster care system. As we are still care-taking my grandpa, we probably won’t start on our  foster care license until we have our own house. Our plan is to purchase a house within the next two years and then work on getting licensed. We are hesitant to get licensed now in the state of IL since our plans are to move right over the border into WI. But who knows?! This is going to be a long trip and one that probably won’t even begin for a few years but we are so thankful for the time God has given us now and all of the wonderful people supporting us through this.

And dear friend, please don’t feel like you can’t talk to us about this. Just as we want to share in your joys and sorrows, we invite you to join in ours. If you have questions, comments, or concerns; please feel free to let us know!

Beyond the Bunny?

Beyond the Bunny?

I keep seeing this title as I look for Christ centered Easter ideas. This is the first year I’ll be hosting Resurrection Sunday dinner so it’s a whole new thing for me. Here’s the problem: I hate Easter in America. I wasn't raised on the bunny, eggs, baskets, or hollow rolls. Easter was simply a celebration of Christ’s triumphant resurrection and victory over sin and death. We had church, maybe some ham, and then a day of reflecting on how much our Savior loves us. That’s just the way it was.

When I got to college I remember as suite activity we dyed Easter eggs and I was faced with the decision if I was going to participate. On the one hand it felt worldly and wrong to reduce the suffering

and resurrection of my Savior to colored eggs and fluffy bunnies. On the other hand, I was surrounded by godly women who were joyfully participating and I didn’t want to seem legalistic. So I joined along. But it didn’t sit well with me. And it still doesn’t.

Fast forward 5 years. I regret now how I handled the situation. I regret not speaking my feelings in truth and love versus the judgmental and self-righteous words I spoke (because there were those before I hypocritically joined along). I also regret that I didn’t stand by my convictions but rather gave in to what I saw other Christians doing and assumed that therefore it was right even though the Spirit inside me said otherwise.

The Lord has been teaching me humility pretty much my whole life but the past few months he’s opened my eyes to it a new way. First, that we all fail. Even my godliest role models who point me to Christ are no substitution for Christ himself because they are flawed. And second, who am I to judge anyone because like them I am also deeply flawed.

The past several years have been years of the Lord changing my definition of what it means to follow him. He has been faithful in showing me how we have made of a mess of His Gospel and turned into our own. With this has come a critical and discerning heart towards the American church.

However, as with all things (I’m never one to do things half way), I may have gone a little overboard. In my righteous zeal I found a very unrighteous judgment of the church. I had been in the church my whole life – looking out at the world and judging them. The Lord in his grace showed my how destructive that outlook had been but without even realizing it I turned that judgment back onto the Church.  In recent months, God has opened my eyes to this as well. He reminded me that He has loved His Church even if they make mistakes just as he loves me through my mistakes. Therefore, I need to extend grace to His people because a) he extends grace to me and b) I’m not the ultimate authority of what God thinks or desires and therefore I might just be wrong.

If I could go back my that first Easter in college I would've  done it very differently. I would’ve politely declined and resisted the peer-pressure that “it’s not that big of a deal” and “stop being so legalistic”. I would have gently stated that I felt that if I were to partake it would cheapen the Easter experience for me and ask to be allowed to own that conviction. I would have let my dear friends know that their decision to partake was between them and God and no way involved me. I would have stayed and laughed with them and rested in the joy of being with good friends. I would have prayed that God would be glorified in their decision to  dye of eggs and my decision to refrain from doing so.

So heading into this Resurrection Sunday, I was discouraged to find that all of these “Beyond the Bunny” activities were no more than just a slapping of a Bible verse on an American custom with really very little to do with Christ’s awesome work on the cross. I was ready to write a blog about how upsetting it is to me that this is the state of the American church when  the Lord reminded me of the above sentiments. So I will conclude with this. I hope that your Easter, whatever traditions you choose to partake in, the bunny, egg hunt, or hollow rolls, I hope your Easter ultimately is about Christ and what he has done for us.

I’m reminded by Paul’s words “whatever you do, whether you eat or drink do it for the Lord’. Paul was talking about to group of Christians who were arguing about whether or not it was more godly to or not to decorate Easter eggs. Well not really, but it was something equally as silly (it wasn’t silly to them of course) but Paul gently points out that the point of everything we do is to glorify Christ and really that’s all that matters. Are our actions bringing the focus back to Jesus?  Who am I to say that dying eggs doesn’t help bring Glory to Christ. In my own life, I know that would cheapen the experience. But it may be different, in your case. Maybe this is a good time for your to witness to your unbelieving neighbors, maybe it gives you a special time to bond with your kids bringing them joy, who knows?

So however you decide to celebrate this Easter, may your eyes be fixed on Him. And whether you dye eggs or not, may Christ be glorified.

“Now to him who is able to keep you from stumbling and to present you blameless before the presence of His glory with great joy, to the only God, our Savior, through Jesus Christ out Lord, be glory, majesty, dominion, and authority, before all time and now and forever. Amen.”

HE IS RISEN! HE IS RISEN INDEED! 

Great is Thy Faithfulness

But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope:

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases

His mercies never come to an end;

They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness! 

There has been so much going on that I wish I could write about. So much I want to share with you. So much I want to leave my heart and enter the written world. So much that needs to be said, yet here I am with little time and little energy. But I’m here.

I’m leaving my world.  I’m leaving behind the world of yoga pants and restraints. The world of swearing teens and overnights. The world of direct care.

And I’m entering a new world. One of dress pants and paper work. One of phone calls and emails. One of forms, and signtures, and desks, and phone calls, and emails, and more forms, and meeting (lots and lots of meetings). The world of case work.

I’m excited. And sad. I’m starting my dream job but leaving my other one behind. But mostly I’m excited.

I’ve wanted to be case worker in the foster care system since before I even knew it was a job. I didn’t know what it was called but I knew that I wanted to work with kids in the foster care system. I knew it when I was 9 years old.

Sure, when you’re a kid you’ve got lots of things you want to do “when you grow up”. I wanted to be a doctor, a veterinarian, a teacher, a dentist, and a cop.  But I always had a longing in my heart for foster kids. I don’t know why. I didn’t really know any foster kids. I wasn’t a foster kid. Heck, I was just a kid myself. Yet, I knew from the young age of 9 that I wanted to adopt and I wanted something to do with foster care.

Of course at 9, I had no idea what that meant. I’m not sure if I even knew the word “foster care” or “foster kid”. But that desire was there. And I know who put it there. I realize how blessed I have been to have had a clear direction my whole life of what I was supposed to do. I didn’t know the details but somehow I always knew I was supposed to work with these kids.

Fast-forward 12 years.

Enter Allendale. I was 21, not even graduated from college and I had an interview with a home for kids with substance abuse issues. Or so I thought. I show up at my interview the day after my last final and find out Allendale isn’t for kids with substance abuse issues. Guess what it’s for. Yup, foster kids. The worst of the worst of those in the system. And I fell in love. I fell in love with my clients and I knew this was what I was meant to do. These were my kids, my people. I knew I was home.

A year passes. It’s not home anymore. It’s “Allenjail”. My kids are horrible, my co-workers are burnt out, and our administration is indifferent and callous to our growing safety concerns as they send us increasingly violent girls. And I’m done. I don’t want to do this anymore. I’m sick of it. I’m tired. So I cry out to the Lord.

I ask him to take me out of this situation. I want to see my husband. I want my weekends back. I’m sick of getting bit, and punched, and spit at by 16 year old girls. So I pray. And pray. And pray.

And though it all I hear “stay. Stay. Stay.” So I’d agree for a few weeks and then I’d ask again, “please take me somewhere else. Anywhere else.”  My friends agreed with. My mom agreed with. My husband agreed with me. “You need to get out of Allendale”,  they’d all say. and so again I prayed.

This time I heard, “you are the light in the darkness. A city on a hill. Salt to a dying world”. So once again I obeyed. A month goes by and I’m at it again. I cry, “I’m done! I’m done!” and this time I didn't hear a voice. I got excited! “This is my chance! My time to leave has come!”

But sometimes God’s voice comes in different ways. This time it sounded a lot like my dad. He cautiously mentions to me, “so did you not hear Him or are you choosing to disobey?” Thanks dad. Thanks a lot. I thought I was in the clear. Good to go. Finally free of Allendale.

So I prayed. “Lord, did I misunderstand or am I trying to disobey?” And I tried to convince myself I misunderstood. But I knew I hadn't. I knew he told me to stay. So I did.

“But why Lord?” I cried. I was so unhappy. Didn't God want me to happy? That’s what I had always been told. So why was he telling me to stay. And then I heard him again. “My child, my goal for your life is not for you to be happy….” “But, but ,but,” I stammered. “My goal is for you to look a little bit more like me”, he replied.

And so I stayed. I obeyed. And guess what? I wasn't happy. But I was given joy. I was given the strength to do my job and do it well. I was given clarity to see the small victories.  But overall, I had joy because I knew I was within the will of God. And that is the best place to be.

All through the summer, I wrestled with the Lord. And I finally fell content. Not happy but content with where God had placed me. And then out of nowhere. He showed me something. A position posting. A position I had no chance of even getting an interview for. I wasn't licensed like the position demanded. I didn't have a master live everyone else. Yet, I applied. On a pipe dream, that maybe just maybe it was my time to go.

And then I got interview. I had no hope after the interview. It was 45 minutes long (not nearly as long as most of the upper level position interviews I had been too). They didn't seem impressed. Besides I still didn't have a license. And I still didn't have my masters.

And yet, by God’s perfect design, I got the job. I landed my dream job at the age of 23. What a blessing! Yet, would have I recognized the blessing if I hadn't just been through the previous 12 months? Those months of arguing with God. The tension of wanting to leave but being called to stay. The struggle of learning that my ultimate goal in life should not to be happy but to look like Christ. The moment of learning to rest in God and his will. All those experiences led me here.

If I had disobeyed and left when I wanted, I would not be here; sitting in my new office. I would've missed what God had in store for me. I would never have seen the posting or had the chance to apply if I had listened to my flesh. But God knew. He always knows. He wants me here at Allendale. He had a plan and he has a plan for the future. Why do I always forget? Why do I always want to do it my way when time after time I’m reminded that his way is better?

God has proven himself faithful to me yet one more time. After months of doubting him, he proved himself yet again.

I don’ t know where you are right now. Maybe you are in the stage of “staying”. Maybe God has you in a place you want to be far from. Maybe he has you right where you want to be. It doesn't matter though, because he is in control. Whether it feels that way or not. As long as you are walking in obedience, God has the situation exactly the way he wants it. And he will prove himself to be faithful to you just as he did me. It might look different. And it won’t be on your terms – I can guarantee that. But he will prove himself.

 My period of “staying” was about a year. For you it might be longer. Maybe less. I know it’s hard to be in that place, though. Wondering when God will demonstrate him faithfulness. Wondering when he will rescue you. But the one thing I've learned is even when I’m waiting and staying – He is still faithful. Even if I were to wait for 100 years – he is still faithful! He never left my side. He shaped me more into the woman he wanted me to be, looking a little more like him. He was always faithful. Even when I couldn't see it - he was faithful. 

I know many of you have heard this lyric before and it’s been my favorite for years but it always seems to ring true.  It's as if Sara reached into my soul and wrote the words that are my heart:

I can’t remember a trial or a pain 

He did not recycle to bring me gain 

I can’t remember one single regret 

In serving God only, and trusting His hand 

All I have need of, His hand will provide 

He’s always been faithful to me. 

My Better Half

So let me start off by saying that I apologize if I ever come across as self-righteous or condescending in my blogs. Please know that it is not my intent. I do tend to get carried away and sometimes in my zeal and passion end up coming across as a jerk, so I apologize.

Secondly, I have had so many great ideas for posts but just couldn’t get the words right so maybe one day I’ll finish and post the many half written posts saved on my computer.

Thirdly, I had a really great topic I wanted to write about but since Tuesday is our anniversary I thought my other half, my best friend, my love, my Zack, deserved a little attention.

So on June 25 Zack and I will have been together for five years. FIVE years! And married for TWO! We had the special privileged of being married on the same day we started dating three years previously.

For those who have known us for a while, know that Zack and I’s journey has not always been easy especially in the beginning but I always knew that Zack was a part of God’s plan for my life.

Marriage itself is not easy and I know for some people it’s not that bad. But poor Zack he had the misfortune of marrying a fiercely independent woman who is still trying to figure out what it means to be “one”.

Zack is seriously my better half. I know it’s cheesy but it’s so true. Sure, he’s not perfect but I give him a run for his money and he is so patient with me (way more patient that I would be with me)!

I am headstrong.  Independent. Stubborn. Proud. Opinionated. And while many of these things can be positive characteristics if left unchecked can run amuck and turn me into an unpleasant person to be around – especially when combined.

Zack is the one who keeps me in check. He’s the one who calls me out on my crap and then endures my wrath as I get defensive for being called out. He is so patient with me and he always, always listens to my endless ramblings.

I used see myself as the strong one the one who kept us on track but I am beginning to realize that often Zack is the one who does.  Maybe not in the way that I’m used to but considering he’s the only person who truly see’s my soul and can confront me on the icky stuff in it, I think I’d be lost without him.

Being married forces you to look at your crap. You can’t hide it the way you hide it from the world. Zack and I have the unique ability to be able to push each to be more and more a man/woman after God’s own heart as we look into one another’s soul and lovingly confront and care for each other.

Marriage is partnership and there are often times when I am the strong ones but other times he is. We’ve learned that in order to be good team you have to be willing to step up when the other is faltering and also be willing to rest on the other when you just can’t carry on. Zack and I have that. And that truly blesses me. I love that I know I can trust him to carry me and that I can be a blessing to him and carry him in turn.

 

Recently I’ve had several conversations about marriage with people who are skeptical about the institution of marriage. And in light of today’s culture and perception of marriage, I don’t blame them. However,  Zack and I have a different idea of what marriage is. Marriage is a lot of things but ultimately it’s a representation of Christ and his Church. We are to be an example, a light, to the world of how much the Lord loves his people.  He commands Zack and I to love one another as Christ has loved the Church.

My prayer to the Lord when Zack and I first got together was that together we could bring more glory to Him than either one of us could bring alone. This is still my prayer and I believe the Lord has honored it. We aren’t perfect and we still have many challenges before us, I am sure, but God has been so faithful to us in our marriage. We often forget to put Him at the center and struggle every day to do so yet he remains faithful by giving us grace to carry one and to allow us to continue to help shape each other into the people He wants us to be.

Our marriage is not perfect because we are not perfect but I do believe we bring God honor in three ways. 1) By being example to the world of commitment and God’s plan for marriage 2) and example of God’s love for his people and 3) to encourage and challenge one another to be more like Christ.

So all this to say, I am so very thankful for Zack and for the Lord bringing him into my life all those years ago. Not just because I have a built in best friend who always there for me but because together we are becoming more like our creator and living for him. I am so excited to see where he is going to take us in the next year and the years to come. 

Jr. Bacon Cheeseburgers

Jr. Bacon Cheeseburgers from Wendys remind of my mom. And how much she loves me. Everytime I eat one, I'm brought back to my childhood and special times with my mom.

Because my parents were doemstic missionaires when I was kid (and still are) money was always a bit tight. We lived a frugal life but as a kid I never really seemed to notice. Eating out was a rare occasion and therefore a special one.

Living in rural New Hampshire made things like trips to walmart and the grocery store a lengthy experience.  For us our weekly shopping trip to Concord was an all day experience. My mom would pile my brother and I into the car in the morning and hopefully we'd make back in time to start dinner for my dad.

On these all-day excursions, we would naturally get hungry. In our younger days my mom would just pack snacks for us but when we were a little older fast food restaruants launched the dollar menu. Thus the Wendy trips began.

My mom would drive up to Wendys in the middle of long shopping day and allow us to order two things off the dollar menu and if we were really lucky, three things. And most always it was a Jr.Bacon Cheeseburger and a smally fry. And maybe a frosty if it was a really special day.

As a kid I never really recognized the sacrfices my parents made for my brother and I, but as I look on those days of the Jr.Bacon Cheeseburger I'm reminded about how excited my mom was to be able to provide those cheeseburgers for us. It brought her joy to give us that special treat. Becuase she loved us and wanted to bless us. And that memory blesses me (see my previous entry for my definition of blessed).

Her joy in providing us a special treat reminds me of our Lord. The Bible says that he delights in us - his children (Zephaniah 3:17). He loves to bless us - to give us "Jr.Bacon Cheeseburgers".

So everytime I see a Jr.Bacon Cheesburger I remember my mom. and her sacrifces. and her love. And in return I'm reminded of the Lord and how he longs to bless me. 

So thanks mom, for being an example of Christ's love to me even as a kid when I didn't always recognize it. 

Thanks for Jr.Bacon Cheesburgers.

On the road to become truly blessed.

This will be a quick post as I am off to work but I really felt the need to post ASAP, so forgive me if my writing is weaker than normal.

The bloodshed behind our cheap clothes" 
http://www.cnn.com/2013/05/02/opinion/akter-bangladesh/index.html

That is the headline regarding the most recent factory malfunction in Bangladesh. For most people they don't want to think about where our clothes and shoes and tennis rackets and plastic ware come from. They just walk into target and complain about prices and taxes and buy it. 

We are beyond spoiled. The fact that we can walk into Walmart or Target and just buy what we need is amazing but then to think about how did that product come to us. It's a harsh reality that much of our "stuff" is made by human beings working under oppressive conditions with little compensation. 

The Lord has been softening my heart to this for many years but recently he really has challenged Zack and I to put our faith into works. We made the commitment about a month ago to start living a more simple lifestyle but to also stop purchasing goods that are not made through fair trade or in America. 

I LOVE to shop. Always have. But my love for shopping is not nearly as important as humans lives in countries like Bangladesh, Indonesia, and China.

See, as a Christian, I believe we will ALL stand before God. And I believe that God will ask American Christians about the spending and purchasing habits. And I don't think ignorance (which I hardly doubt you can claim with such renowned media sources like CNN) is going to cut. it. And in fact, I know it's not.

Read Matthew 25. Jesus says to all the good religious people (yeah, those people who sit in church every Sunday and don't swear and don't drink or have sex before marriage and maybe even read their Bible - those good religious people) "DEPART FROM ME, you who are cursed" That's right! Jesus said that to the good Christians! Why? Because they did not care for the least of these. They didn't care for the homeless in their town, the abused children in their neighborhood, the people working in sweatshops in Bangladesh  I'm not going to lie - that describes many of the good Christians I know and even myself at times - yikes! If that's not convicting - I don't know what is! 

As Americans we need to start to realize that our "stuff" was made a great price to someone else. And we need to do something about it. Zack and I have started to support local business and organizations that make products fairly and in sustainable ways. Yes, its expensive. Much more expensive than buying at Target (I stopped shopping at walmart almost 3 years ago because of their inhumane practices oversea and their issues with gender equality in the states). Because things are more expensive it also means we have to live more simply, which as Christians, I think we are called to do anyway. 

In our American Churches we often hear the American Dream preached right alongside the Gospel. Somehow, I don't think God is very please with that. In fact the American Dream has turned into something EXTREMELY anti-biblical and not godly at all.

So Zack and I have started to walk away from that dream and God has given us a new way to live life. We like to call it Kingdom Minded. All that we do, we do it for God's kingdom and the advancement of Christ. This includes how we spend our money and the things we support with our time. 

If there is one thing that God taught me during my time in India it was the meaning of the word blessed. I had always read the beatitudes in Matthew 5 with a sort of puzzlement. "Blessed are those who mourn? Blessed are the poor? Blessed are broken? What?" But I began to realize that the way we used the bless in American Christian culture is so opposite of God's definition of being blessed. 

We use the word blessed to mean "something I like has happened to me". I'm blessed to have a new car. I'm blessed to have healthy children. I'm blessed our house didn't get hit by flooding (I even had to catch myself saying that last month with all of the flooding by us).

But see God's definition of blessed is different. His definition is himself. We are blessed when we are with God. God is the only true blessing. So when we are broken, we can see God more clearly - we are blessed. When we are "pure in heart" we see God - we are blessed. When we are poor we don't have "stuff" that clutters our hearts and minds that blocks our view of God (I saw this so clearly in India amidst the poverty there) and when we can hear him and see him - we are blessed. 

This is the mission Zack and I are on. To become truly blessed - to see and be with God. And we believe to do this we must get rid of things that blocks are view of him (for use that means getting rid of our need for "stuff") but it also means treating people, whether we know them or not, with dignity and humanely. 

So this is where we are at. A new chapter in our lives. A total lifestyle change. And even though this lifestyle adjustment is hard, ya know what? We are really excited about it! And we can't wait to see what God is going to do in our lives and through us! 

As an advocate at heart, I really hope that this has sparked something inside of you and maybe are one step closer to a lifestyle change yourself. Please let us know if you have questions as we would love to take this journey with you!

I've listed some websites and organizations we have found helpful in this journey below. 

http://www.ijm.org

http://tradeasone.com

http://www.amazon.com/Interrupted-Adventure-Relearning-Essentials-Faith/dp/1600062172

http://movement121.com/