Trial or Triumph, You Choose

A single missionary friend of mine, is single no more. As a seasoned traveler to orphanages in Mexico, Argentina, and Bolivia, she was equipped for most adventures, but are any of us really prepared for the metamorphosis when two start to become one?! 

In her recent state of confusion, she sent me this note, "How do I know that my relationship with God is in good balance while at the same time, having Joe in my life? What have you learned about both (having your spouse AND God) being priorities, but keeping God number one?"

At first glance, it was my instinct to remember how strapped I was for time when I brought another person into my world, first Angie, and then Jon. It was easy to focus on the balancing act of making time to be alone with God, when you can't even find time to go to the bathroom with the door closed. Scheduling was a very real challenge, but then I remembered that the closest I've ever been to God may have been in the first few months of doing life with Angie. And that's when I noticed this line a bit later in my friend's message, "I am enjoying the added peace, love, and support Joe has brought to my life..."

Maybe it's not so impossible to make room for God when life get's full, as it is difficult to seek Him with the same passion in the absence of desperation. Why don't the words pour out of us as freely in praise of all His wonders, as they do in cries for His comfort and rescue? Why do we find ourselves on our knees so much more in the desert than in abundance?

One year ago, I was navigating the fresh waters of matrimony, while Angie was drowning in a sea of unwanted change, as she wrestled with leaving her native land and losing the exclusive rights to her mom. She acted out mostly with words, albeit words who's marks were sometimes hard to erase, even with the understanding that she didn't mean most of them. 

Two years ago, she hadn't quite honed the art of self control, and she dealt with the ongoing changes of being part of a family by busting holes in her door, leaving claw marks on my arms and chunks of my hair on the floor, cutting the walls, and slicing gaping holes in my window screens. 

This year, you could almost call her reasonable. She makes mistakes, says things she shouldn't, thrashes about sometimes, but you can talk her down now, her fits are shorter, fewer, and farther between. She's learning what it means to live with people who love her.

Guess, in which of these times I was closest to God. In which year did I shed more tears, each one like incense rising to the Lord? Of course, when my knees were the most raw from the time spent pleading for a reprieve from the wildness and violence.

“You’re blessed when you’re at the end of your rope. With less of you there is more of God and His rule. You’re blessed when you feel you’ve lost what is most dear to you. Only then can you be embraced by the One most dear to you." -Matthew 5:3-4 TM

"The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; He rescues those whose spirits are crushed." 

-Psalm 34:18 NLT

"My ears had heard of You, but now my eyes have seen You." -Job 42:5 NIV

A couple weeks ago, I spoke at a Christian Camp about the rubbish we fill up our lives with. Like the child who can't hold the next gift you have for her, because her hands are already full with what she thinks is the good stuff.

"...everything I once thought I had going for me is insignificant—dog dung. I’ve dumped it all in the trash so that I could embrace Christ and be embraced by Him." Phil 3:10 TM

I shared about emptying ourselves of all the credentials we wear so proudly, and the possessions we cling to so tightly, to have room to embrace Christ and be embraced by Him. And at the end, a missionary to India asked, "so what's it like when you've let it all go?"

I think I spouted off something about greater intimacy with God, but I'd been about as transparent as one can be with strangers in this workshop, so why put on airs now, "I don't really know," I admitted, "I tend to fill up my arms again as soon as God helps me empty them." 

After all, the humility/pride I get from freeing myself up to embrace Christ is accolade enough to keep Him at arms length. The feeling of significance found in the praise of men, the security in the riches of this world, and the lightness of companionship are enough to convince anyone to seek worldly prosperity over the deprivation that draws us into His lap. 

Job had heard of God when his cup was brimming over with treasures, but he didn't truly see God until he had lost everything. 

Would I choose the closeness with God I had when I wept in my bed alone while my child raged against me, or the relative peace and happiness I cherish now with my dear supportive husband and the more docile daughter? Would I ever take a season with the Lord alone on my knees, when I could be frolicking and laughing with my family?

Am I strong enough to wish for more adversity? Am I capable of coming to the end of my rope, without tragedy taking me there? Would you ever trade a day of ease and pleasure for one marked with trials and suffering that lead you to Jesus? 

Until we're there, may we at least, appreciate the closeness we have when we're allowed  pain, and "when troubles come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy." -James 1:2. 

Newlyweds No More?

Celebrating our first year of wedded bliss!

Marriage is one of those strange strange creatures you cannot completely fathom until you've captured it. Even then, it is an elusive beast to wrap your head around. Although it's as common as the flu in January, just like motherhood it's extraordinary in almost every way. In one of my favorite books on the subject, "The Meaning of Marriage" Tim Keller quotes Stanley Hauerwas,

 "...we always marry the wrong person. We never know whom we marry; we just think we do. Or even if we first marry the right person, just give it awhile and he or she will change. For marriage, being the enormous thing it is means we are not the same person after we have entered it. The primary problem is...learning how to love and care for the stranger to whom you find yourself married."

Growing together on the high ropes course at family camp in the California Redwoods.

One year ago, Jon and I started changing each other for better or worse, for the rest of our lives. We've changed in some monumental ways. Where I was repulsed by hunting before, now I cook and eat the game he brings home, and maybe even look forward to restocking the freezer as deer season approaches. Jon now often cheers for UL with nearly the enthusiasm of those of us who truly bleed Cardinal Red as opposed to his natural UK blue. We've also changed in almost undetectable manners; now I separate the lights from the darks in the laundry, and he puts the toilet seat down. We've rubbed off on each other in negative ways. I start my day much later than I used to, because it's just about impossible to get out of bed when he's snoozing there all warm and cuddly. His diet now includes many more simple carbs than it probably ever has. But we've sharpened one another as well. Because of his influence, I'm gentler and calmer with Angie even when I'm not feeling gentle or calm at all. He's becoming more direct and more open about what he's really thinking. I might be a little more patient, he might be a bit more driven.

I wonder sometimes why couples who've been married fifty years can still be two such unique individuals. Why haven't they basically morphed into a male and female version of one another; two perfect fusions of all the good qualities each offers? If Jon and I could combine our passion and unflappable-ness, our energy and clearheadedness, fervor and tenderness, ambition and persistence, our perseverance, tenacity, thoughtfulness and charm, all on their best days, we'd be a duo to be reckoned with for sure! 

So I pray that we will continue to improve each other by watching one another reflect Christ in various ways for decades to come. Softening one anothers' edges where they need to be softened, sharpening them where they need to be sharper.

The happy-couple-pose in a two-person kayak after we sunk the one-man kayak in the middle of the lake,
 in one of life's impromptu crash courses on relationships. 

I'm reading Ann Voskamp's incredible book One Thousand Gifts where she quotes C.S. Lewis as saying,"If you think of the world as a place intended simply for our happiness, you find it quite intolerable: think of it as a place of training and correction and it's not so bad."

 It made me realize why I've been so pleasantly surprised by this first year as a wife. Many people think of marriage as an arrangement simply intended for their happiness, and thus find it quite intolerable. But as a 32 year-old tying the knot for the first time, I was fortunate enough to come to it with a little more realistic perspective. I looked at marriage more as a place of training and correction, as Tim Keller says "a way for two spiritual friends to help each other on their journey to become the persons God designed them to be." And as a result, it has exceeded all my expectations. 

Now, to see if it can get any sweeter, as we embark on year #2 determined to stay "newlywed" for a long long time....   

Retraction

If you receive our prayer updates by email, you may have read today that we're prepping for our trip to Bolivia. If you haven't, you might want to catch up here before you read on.

And now, let me unsay everything I said, sort of.  You see, just after I submitted that letter for printing, posting on my website, and emailing to all of you, we found out that we can't go to Bolivia just yet. UGH!  I could go into all the gruesome details of the visits and phone calls with immigration officers that lead us to this untimely realization, but that'd be excruciating for most of you, and humiliating for me as it was my own failure to understand the system that got us into this mess.

The simple version is that at this point in Angie's process toward permanent residency in the U.S. we can't leave the U.S. or they likely won't let her back in. Whoops. To defend myself just the tiniest bit, we really have sought legal counsel, as you'll know if you're a lawyer-type in our sphere, but our adoption and immigration case is REALLY complicated and unique, hence I've been deciphering most of the legal jargon on my own.

So, now we're stuck with plane tickets we're not sure we can transfer due to black out dates and such, plans for parties, appointments, and meetings to be rescheduled, and about 70 pounds of goods, shipped from around the States, ready for us to haul to Bolivia, including a tablet computer, a keyboard, an ultrasound machine, a birthday package for one of our new vets on the field, Bible study workbooks, candy, bubbles, and gifts for the kiddos at the orphanage, the list goes on.....

If you had the misfortune of accidentally calling the day this news came to us, you know I was pretty devastated to say the least. And a sense of deja vu started to set in as I remembered a similar realization almost exactly one year ago, of exactly the opposite nature; we HAD to go back to Bolivia for U.S. immigration purposes, five days after our honeymoon, for four months! You can brush up on that fun news here.

But this go around, I recovered a little more quickly, because my nostalgia didn't end at the awful day when we learned of our fate to spend the first month of our marriage in separate countries, and the next three in Bolivia's hottest season, without any of our stuff. By God's grace, I also reflected back on just how trustworthy the Lord was in those four months. Instead of being a newlywed disaster, it turned into a sweet time of bonding and ministry together, maybe not something I'd recommend other bride and grooms try right out of the gate, but a period I wouldn't trade in our history. Check out all the blessings that experience brought us here.

We can all say that we trust God, but I'm the first to doubt His sovereignty when things start to fall apart. I wouldn't say that of course. I'd pray, "Lord, we know You're sovereign..." But when the airline we purchased tickets with to move home from the mission field last year shut down taking with them all of our money, when a nationwide census in Bolivia ruined our long awaited travel plans, or when Angie started puberty the month she turned ten and one month before we turned her world upside down with our wedding, my panic would reveal my true feelings, that God has let me down, that He wasn't looking out for me on this one. So, it was super generous of Him to teach me this lesson in such a remedial way. First, He allows a mess, He allows me to choose to trust Him or doubt, next He shows up in that mess and makes His purposes obvious. Then, He sends a follow-up mess so remarkably similar that even I can see the parallels, and again He allows me to choose. This time, even as dense as I am, I choose to trust Him.

August 2nd, we have an interview with immigration. Lord willing, we'll be granted Angie's permanent residency and be allowed to travel. And again, if God permits, we'll try to make our trip back to Bolivia for all the things listed in the prayer letter above, just before she starts school late August. Please, join us in prayer for all of this. And feel free to learn from the lessons God's teaching me, so maybe He'll spare you your own teachable trials. The disciples doubted Jesus could feed the thousands, even after He'd just proven He could a few weeks before, in the gospel of Mark. So, I guess we're in good company even if it takes a few attempts to get through to us...

Solution for the Summer Doldrums - Birthday Style!

Summer without siblings can be tricky. Sure you have Mom to yourself, but she's not always the best playmate when she's glued to the computer working on Student Ministry, Local Ministry Groups, plans for visiting Bolivia next month, and end of the fiscal year details for CVM. The neighbor girl's not always home, the TV's usually off-limits, and the dog can only entertain you so long. What's a tween to do for the virtually endless hours of summer??

Don't worry kiddos who find yourself in a similar rut, Angie has the ultimate solution for you: MAKE EVERY DAY YOUR BIRTHDAY! Seriously, Mom and Dad will be totally on board with this revolutionary idea, promise. When there's a surprise around every corner, presents coming out of your ears, and did I mention sugary treats ad nauseam--literally, you won't put on a pouty face even once, you might even keep the eye-rolling to a minimum. And that makes for a super special day for EVERYONE.

Angie turned 11 on Saturday, and in honor of the big event she slept in till an unprecedented 11am this morning catching up from the weekend's festivities.

We started her birthday fun by running as fast as we could for 3.1 miles (with random periods of walking due to cramps in her stomach, neck, brain, etc.) At this point many of you might be thinking, "running 3 miles does not sound like my kind of fun," and in hindsight Angie would have to agree with you. But it was her idea, and now I'm worried, the shiny little medal's gonna cloud her memory of the half hour of incessant whining plus the hours of whine-filled training runs, the next time such an opportunity presents itself.

After the seven members of Team Spears ran Angie's first, and possibly last 5K, we refueled on some Chick-fil-a, DQ ice cream cake, and presents!

Then, we ushered everyone outside, to keep Angie from destroying the house with her new hula hoop, and to subtly direct her to the backyard where her brand new swings awaited her!

And finally, the fun really began when two of Angie's besties joined us for squealing, popcorn, giggling, movies, pizza, screaming, cupcakes, running, swinging, whispering, playing, jumping on beds, tickling, twirling, more squealing, and bowling! All the ingredients that make for a nearly sleepless sleepover, and a pretty short-fused Father's Day to follow. But I hope we also made my daddy and Angie's daddy feel special and loved even though their day couldn't be quite as full as Angie's (after Five Guys and leftover cupcakes their bellies might have been as full though.)

And, in other really good news, one of the pajama party participants tagged along for church, so we were able to convince Angie to stay in Children's Chapel! Hopefully, the first step toward a little more independence for her, and freedom to serve in the tech booth for us. Plus, praise - that her little friend was full of questions and eagerness to learn more about God. All around a successful weekend. Thanks to so many of you who's birthday wishes, cards, gifts, and calls made Angie one happy 11 year-old!

SHE DID IT!

Don't get me wrong, your little ones running around in graduation caps are adorable! Really, the cuteness of each and every one of them on Facebook makes me smile. But in general, I tend to side with Bob from The Incredibles when it comes to pre-school, kindergarten, even elementary school graduations:

Helen: I can't believe you don't want to go to your own son's graduation.

Bob: It's not a graduation. He is moving from the 4th grade to the 5th grade.

Helen: It's a ceremony!

Bob: It's psychotic! They keep creating new ways to celebrate mediocrity, but if someone is genuinely exceptional...

Since we didn't have any superhero world-saving to otherwise occupy us, my parents, Jon, and I attended Angie's "ceremony" for moving from 5th grade to 6th grade, yesterday. 

As the children crossed the stage, some all dolled up seemingly ready for prom, some wearing the polo and khakis of their class uniform, the school counselor read what awards lay waiting for them in their big white envelope. Principal's Gold Award, Principal's Silver Award, Citizenship Award, Orchestra something or other, Perfect Attendance, Most Improved Math, Academic Achievement Science, Academic Achievement Writing, Academic Achievement Reading, Academic Achievement All Subjects, etc. etc. etc. Since we had nothing but time while we waited for the processional to reach the "S" of Spears, I leaned over to Jon and facetiously asked "What do you think Angie will get?" He gently replied, "A Certificate of Diploma!" with a tone of voice that shamed me for thinking anything could be greater.

You see, it's one thing for a child to glide seamlessly from one grade to the next, advancing from pre-K, to K, to 1st,... 5th, and then make the jump into the great unknown of middle school. And I don't doubt each step of that progression might have been fraught with obstacles for many children. I mean it's no less than a miracle to get them out of bed some days, then add learning to read, to write, HOMEWORK, bullies, multiplication, division, long division, crushes on boys, the state capitals.........

 But what Angie has done is another thing all together, and nothing short of incredible!  Before Angie made it into the orphanage where I found her, she lived with a family who treated her very poorly, so poorly in fact that they only put her in school for about a week, then pulled her out when the school required her to have supplies. So, there was no pre-K in Angie's background, nor kindergarten. She finally started elementary school once she'd escaped to Talita Cumi, but by this point she was way behind. 

First grade for her was half days in a Bolivian Spanish public school for kids from orphanages. Then I turned her world upside down. For less money than it would have cost me to get her daycare for the second half of the day, I switched her to a Bolivian bi-lingual private school for 2nd grade. After a year of learning some English from Bolivian accented teachers, we realized we might be coming back to the States so we switched her to an international school, where she had U.S. teachers, U.S. curriculum, and the entire day was in English. The school year also flipped from the Southern hemisphere to using the Northern school calendar, so we could either drop her back a semester or bump her up one. Since she was so far behind already we convinced her 3rd grade teacher to let her skip half of a year, and we crammed a semester of 3rd grade in at home over Christmas break.

After one semester of 3rd grade, she began 4th at the same school. One semester later, we moved back to the U.S. where the policy is to put a child in the grade where their age belongs. So she then skipped the second half of 4th grade and the first half of 5th to join her peers in a new culture and still perplexing language. So, to sum up: Angie skipped half of 3rd, 4th, and 5th grades while switching languages, cultures and families. Talk about a recipe for stress!

Although I would not in a million years recommend this accelerated method to anyone who's IQ is less than say 200, we made it. She made it! With the help of her grandparents, teachers like Lisa Speyers, Martha Thomas, Rachel Rogers, and God Himself, Angie has graduated fifth grade against all odds. 

I'm fully aware that we have a ways to go before she's reading on a sixth grade level, or understands U.S. history, but we've come a long way Baby, and I'm so proud of her!  

I'm Bored!!

If you're a mom chances are you read Jen Hatmaker's latest blog post Worst End of School Year Mom Ever where she encouraged us all in solidarity with statements like: 

"Hang in there, Mama. Just a few more days until summer, when approximately 19 minutes into our glorious respite from homework, liberated from the crush of it all, ready to party like it’s 1999, our precious children, having whooped and celebrated and “graduated” and squealed all the way home will announce: "I'm bored.""

Around here I've been luxuriating in the relatively homework-less last couple weeks of school, and I'm looking forward to a break from packing lunches, washing uniforms, and dragging my child out of bed every morning. However, I regard the end of the school year more with healthy trepidation than unadulterated glee.

Stay at Home Moms, you've probably got this all figured out; your season passes to the pool, museums, and the zoo were purchased long ago. Working Moms, I bet you have your sitters all lined up, a plan for dropping the kids off at daycare, or a system of juggling them between family members. But here's what I wanna know, what do you Working From Home Moms do when your little ones aren't being cared for by the public school system 8 hours/day?? Unless Angie is glued to the TV or mesmerized by computer games she is calling "Mommy" on average 17 times/minute. Now fortunately for me, and my employer, CVM, summer's my slower season, with little travel, and a lighter workload, but still I'm not taking a Summer Sabatical here. So, instead of cartwheeling over our imminent freedom from test anxiety and writing assignments, I'm clinging to my one last day of freedom to work in peace before Fifth Grade Graduation on Wednesday brings Angie crashing home for three months!

Some of you may remember that we started a behavior chart a couple years ago, and I'm still printing a new one every week. Angie loves predictability, routine, and rewards so the chart, although it has yet to pull her out of a tantrum once she's started slipping down that slope, has motivated her to get in the shower on more than one occasion. And, it's given us a consistent way to calculate her allowance each week.

Now, inspired by my friend, mom of three, Jenny Cabantac, I've put together a plan for Angie's days at home with me over her summer break. Likely without a schedule she'd be vegging in front of the TV by 10am when I've exhausted the tiny ration of patience and creativity I've been blessed with, trying to get her to do something useful with her life. My hope is that the list might keep her busy with productive activities, give her some control over her schedule, some goals, and ultimately build into her some confidence for sixth grade. Because while I'm panicking about the end of fifth grade, Angie's dreading the beginning of sixth.

Don't worry, we're still open to invitations to your pool, we still plan to visit Bolivia, and we're all set for family camp in California. Angie will have the flexibility to play with friends outside and make good choices about time management and priorities. And no, I didn't embark on this motherhood adventure yesterday, I know it's not gonna be flawless, but if we don't even try, the kid's gonna forget what a fraction is and probably how to spell her own name, if there's not a character named "Angie" on one of her cartoons.

So, moms, dads, grandparents, nannies, organized people of all walks of life, we welcome your input. How do you keep your munchkins' brains from going to mush and simultaneously get some work done during the summer months of our children's vacillating fun and boredom??

Vets Doing a Little Life Together

What do you get when you put four veterinarians, their spouses, and kiddos together in one place? A great meal, lots of laughs, and conversation that ranges from breeding horses to selling all your possessions to move overseas and serve the poor. Last Saturday, we had some of my favorite people over to catch up on where God's leading our families in His journey for His glory, and after five hours I kinda wished we had cushions for our dining room chairs, as the conversation was so captivating that people barely got up to refill their drinks. Officially, we'd be called a Local Ministry Group, unofficially we're just vets with a lot in common; a love for Christ and a passion to share Him with the world. 

More than ten years ago, one of these couples lead my community group in vet school, and mentored me more than they'll ever know. Another of these vets heard I was coming home from Bolivia last summer and looked me up. All of them made it to Christian Veterinary Mission's Shortcourse last August in Kansas City to learn more about longterm missions. And now we're all back within an hour from Louisville getting together every couple months to encourage each other and share.

If all of them follow God's tugging on their hearts to move to Africa as veterinary missionaries, it will leave some empty chairs at our dinner table, but I'll be thankful for the challenge to fill those seats with new faces, because it will mean the Gospel's being taken to places like Kenya, Zambia, South Sudan, or maybe, if we can convince one of them that having the coldest capital city in the world isn't all bad; Mongolia.

The Psuedo-Candid Version

I've said it before, but I'll say it again, I love my job! I'm so blessed to get to do ministry like this.

If you're a vet interested in the Local Ministry Group idea, let me know, we're starting them all over the U.S. Yours doesn't have to be full of families on the verge of moving across the world, ours just happens to be. All veterinarians have stories to share that would encourage others as you use your profession as ministry wherever God has you.