MISSION UPDATE: Seasons

The one thing I can say for sure about my time in the mission field is that nothing ever stays the same. Ever.

Oddly, I used to love change. As a young wife and mother, I would quickly grow bored of how my house was arranged, so I was constantly shifting furniture from this corner to that one. And then I took it a crazy step further and started repurposing rooms. For example, my bedroom was in every room in our house that a queen sized bed could fit. We lived in a beautiful, aged home full of charm when my oldest children were born and it had glass doors leading into a dining room right off the entrance. When I turned that dining room into a bedroom, my poor, sweet father-in-law said I'd maybe gone too far. After all, it was his childhood home and the dining room was for dining in.

Apparenty his mother was a bit more stable than I and didn't get bored quite so easily.

As I got older, and the number of my children increased, I mellowed back to just rearranging the furniture within a room instead of relocating the room itself. Also as I continued to add years to my age, I just flat stopped getting bored. At some point, roughly 7 years ago, my life shifted into overdrive and I kept expecting it would slow down.

It hasn't.

Now I feel like a kid with their head out the car window as it barrels down the freeway ... hair blown back, cheeks quivering with the force of the wind, watery eyes, and every now and then gasping for air, even though it's all around. I want to pull my head safely back inside and yet I can't. So I always look a little wind-whipped and overtaken.

It's fine. But I do sometimes wish things could just stay the same for a quick minute. Until, that is, something changes so good that I couldn't possibly wish it back the way it was. If you thought all of that wasn't leading to a story, you don't know me very well. :)

This morning, after breakfast in the cafeteria, I was walking back toward the house with some of the children. They were chattering and clamoring for my hands and arms and pulling on my shirt and I was entirely consumed by the moment. But I noticed one of our most challenging young people up ahead of me and she was walking a bit of a staggering path. When we reached her, I stepped away from the others and walked over to her and asked if she was okay.

She smiled and told me she was walking and praying and asking God to help her be good because being good is so hard.

I wasn't expecting that answer at all. But I looked into her face and knew she was telling the truth. She'd recognized her own weakness and sought strength from the One who could offer it. I was so proud of her and I put an arm around her shoulder and assured her that God had heard her prayer and she could expect His help.

Fast forward a few hours. Lunch was over, as was the quiet hour that follows lunch. I walked into the girls' room and was met with a tale-bearer a wee bit too excited to offer her news. There had been an angry exchange of words between two of the other girls, one of whom was the same girl who'd asked God for help being good today.

When I was told that she'd said the other girl looked like a dog, I was reasonably frustrated. How can we ever break these children of such deplorable ways? I walked over to her and ask her to explain why she'd said it and she immediately started to cry.

It turns out she'd actually said, "Why are you calling me like I'm a dog?" to the one who was insisting she come help with the housework. Something in me told me she was telling the truth and I felt bad that I'd believed the negative report before investigating. Sometimes a precedent is set and you just expect the worst from a person because they've sort of taught you to.

But it's still not the right approach.

I went to the other girl who'd been part of this exchange and asked if that's what had been said. And wouldn't you know, she immediately burst into tears. Rainy season is slowly setting in but with all the crying around here today, it's entirely possible we'll flood with tears before actual rain.

As I stood looking at this second crying child, I was admittedly weary. I had what felt like a hundred things to accomplish today and these outbursts were delaying my progress. Sometimes I forget life isn't a to-do list.

Before I could say another word, the first child showed up beside us, still tearful but slightly more composed, and she folded her hands according to polite Thai custom, and apologized for her part in the mess. And it wasn't just a quick "sorry". She was quite thorough, implicating herself rather than pointing the finger and justifying her own actions.

I was legitimately stunned. This wasn't normal behavior for this child. She's often in these scuffles and most of the time she has to be coaxed to apologize and frequently dissolves into a puddle of reasons why her life is so unhappy.

But this morning she'd heard God calling to her to pray for His help to do better. And when the rubber met the road, as it always eventually does, she chose to accept the help He offered.

It was the most beautiful thing I've witnessed in awhile.

We're in a season of familiarity with these children, and as strange as that might sound if you haven't taken a lot of children into your home, it's like a long awaited exhale. We've been together long enough, and know each other well enough, that a lot of the wrinkles between us have been shaken out. We know their habits and they know our expectations. We know their weaknesses and they seem to trust that we're trying to help them turn them into strengths. They've encountered God and many of them are looking for ways to go deeper.

This morning before lunch, I was running errands with 4 of our oldest girls. We were on a mission that was somewhat confusing and yet it went off without a hitch. There's no awkwardness between us anymore and it's amazing how much difference that makes in the day to day.

So even though I wake up and feel like that kid with the whipped back hair speeding down the freeway, something about this season still feels so sweet.

And sweeter still is the thought that if we each cling to Christ, doing our part to connect those around us with Him, we can enjoy an eternity together with these precious people where life will be the exact right pace. I don't know about you, but I can't wait.

Rest will come soon enough. Until then, hold fast and carry on!