Goodbye November

It's hard to believe this is the last day of November.  November tends to be a tranquil month, doesn't it?  It slips in, ready prepare our hearts.

My heart needed quite a bit of pruning this year.  

It's been quiet around NEM, have you noticed?  I've had a rough couple of weeks and needed time to process rather than vomit words/feelings onto the published page.  

I have had a soul wrestling season.  Do you have those?

  

While this blog is a place for you to find encouragement and humor, I also desire for it to be a place that is real, exposing the lie that bloggers have perfect lives all tied up in a bow.  I try to be as candid as possible about my joys, daily blunders, and heart matters.   I am often encouraged when I discover that other women are dealing with the same kinds of life-stuff that I am.  It keeps us on the same page, digging through life together.

However, I recently learned the hard way that sometimes when we are transparent with others it opens us up to criticism and skewed perspectives.  I've been through a world of hurt over this and I need to apologize to you.

My post about our finances may have come across as discontentedness.  What a world we live in, for me to complain about medical bills when there are so many who have never seen the likes of a Bandaid.  I know that I have more than some could ever dream of.  My life is full.  I have much to rejoice over.  My world is not built upon the ups and downs of our financial journey.  I have 3 precious children and a wonderful husband that are living gifts worth every diamond in the world.  My heart is full.  I do not want to have a complaining spirit.  Sometimes in my effort to keep it real, it comes across as discontentedness. Yes, the weight of this world is too much to bear sometimes, but I am filled with gratefulness.  

This "November heart pruning" has made me realize that sometimes we assume things about others which causes a separation of souls.  For example, if you saw my new Christmas tree  lights, you might be scratching your head wondering why I would complain about finances when, clearly, I had enough to purchase new lights.  You would assume that I was spending recklessly and deserved to be in the pit I am in, after all, I dug it!  What you might not realize is that I used some of my Christmas money last year and shopped the 75% sale after Christmas to replace the lights that we had used for 15 years.  Now my spending doesn't seem so reckless, does it?  I'm not trying to justify myself.  I've just been made acutely aware of the danger we can be to one another (and ourselves) when we allow judgements to cloud our view.

We all already know our own imperfections.  We don't need others to point them out or look for ways to dig chasms.  I am as real as it gets.  I don't try to hid behind a veil of false perfection.  I struggle.  I heart-wrestle.   I desire to be transparent with you.  

We all need grace.

Since it's the last day of November, I thought I'd finally share my fall mantle.  

Better late than never, right? 

Quiet House, Stormy Thoughts

I sit in a silent house with nothing but the hum of the refrigerator and the crackle of the fire.  I hold vigil over my sleeping child, whose body is fighting off the attacks of a migraine.  At first the silence is deafening.
Even though a quiet moment is a gift, I have been trained to the static noise of life.  As I allow myself to bask in the silence, thoughts begin to tumble.  Thoughts I've held at bay because I am a stuffer.

The past 36 hours have left me spent, feeling swallowed by the highs and lows.  I've shared our financial journey here and here.  You would think by now I'd be over myself.

This is when I feel like I need to give you permission to slip out the back door quietly, shaking your head because you thought you were attending a "You Can Do It" seminar.  Not today.  Today I am just going to be me.  Just the real me.  The me that has highs and lows.  The me who has more questions than answers right now.

We received our medical bill yesterday.  A bill that includes an ER visit, CT scan, xrays and lab work.  Even with medical insurance, it's overwhelming.  I suddenly feel like an idiot who just squandered her children's Christmas away in the name of some bruised ribs.

2 steps forward, 3 steps back

The all too familiar churning of my insides begin to assail.
How will we ever get ahead?
My husband sees the fear behind my lying eyes.  Eyes that try to be brave.
He whispers assurances, but my heart is too weary to readily agree.

I am broken.
Then I am angry at the injustice.
Mad at myself.
Frustrated with the impossible mountain we can't seem to conquer.
Questioning my decisions.  At what point do I determine that our financial upheavals may be the end of living my dream as a stay-at-home-mom?  My dream?  His calling?  The lines are blurred.

Tonight, as I sit in the silence I stumble onto this post.  A post that quite possibly will change my life.  The pictures are gorgeous, but the story causes me to tremble.
We have so much.  Yes, I feel like we are drowning, but suddenly my personal storm turns to an afternoon shower compared to Jonathan's lonely existence.
But he chooses to sing praise.

I move on to this story and I am brought to my knees.
Lydia has waited for 3 years.  Three years of waiting for God to provide. She waited as I yapped about pumpkin butter and peppermint mochas.

When I was a child my parents faced a financial crisis.  My dad's answer was, "we need to give more."  It doesn't make sense on paper...  or a napkin, or on anything else you try to write the math. But God's ways are not our ways.

So on an evening that I thought would be perfect for a little commiseration, I find myself turned upside down.  My heart burns for a child who is waiting on the Lord.  Waiting for me to make a difference.  Though we often wonder how we are going to afford dental care for our own three, surely we can find a way to provide $38.  After all, it's an eternal investment.

End of the Journey

Well at least the end of this part of my journey...

For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord,

plans to prosper you and not to harm you,

plans to give you hope and a future.

~Jeremiah 29:11

One of the most beautiful verses for the hurting and fearful.  Yet we often cut it short without reading the rest of the passage:

Then you will call upon me and come and pray

to me, and I will listen to you.  You will seek me 

and find me with your whole heart.

Jeremiah 29:12~13

I needed to know that He had a plan for my life and this crazy curvy road I travel.  I clung to that verse with all that I had.  But it took a little longer for me to follow through with the second part of the passage.  When I finally decided to put down the boxing gloves and pray, my heart was released.  It took time.  I had to not only pray, but I had to seek.  And wait.

Verse 13 didn't promise that our finances would be fluid again.  It didn't promise new shoes or easy living.  It told me that I would find Him with my whole heart.

Hmmm... maybe that was part of the problem.  I had not given him all of my heart.  There were areas that I still wanted  to hold on to; to argue about the "why" and why-nots."  

The Rubber Meets the Road:

As it turns out, it wasn't about finances.  It wasn't about hunting accidents or pride.  It was about how God was mapping out my journey.  You see, even though I started this journey without packing, He had some souvenirs for me.   

1.  My marriage is stronger 

2. I expect less from myself and others

3. My parents and in-laws have experienced the joy of giving us gifts that we truly appreciate

4. My children are not spoiled.  Okay, maybe a little.  :)

5. I see the world in a completely different light.  

6. I have had the privilege of ministering to others in ways I would have never imagined. 

7. The generosity of others has floored me.  Not only in action and deed, but also in words of encouragement.  

YOU have been a part of my journey.  You have blessed me.  

Here are some of the words of wisdom you have shared since I started this little series:

God is good. And sometimes, until we get a little desperate, we don't see just how good He is. ~Kay

The one thing I hope comes out of this is that we can set an example to others that you don't have to have what everyone else has - which I've come to learn is a lot of debt.  ~Laura

Isn't it crazy how easily we can make our circumstances big and God small? ~Joy

What a relief when we seek Christ and his goodness above the approval of man or material things! ~Sara

Insecurity can shake your world in ways you could never imagine. That is where we have to remember God is our rock. It really isn't about us... it is all about the molding and shaping God is doing in our lives. ~Kellie

in God's eyes, there is no "big" and "little" -- that it's ALL important to Him.  ~TZ

Traveling light really does make a difference. ~ Richella

See?  I am surrounded by wise, caring women.  Thank you for sharing the road with me.  Thank you for opening your hearts by sharing your wisdom, experiences, and personal journeys.

Even though our roads may have bumps, turns and unexpected detours, it is a privilege to journey through life with you.

My Journey (part 3)

It would be so nice to finish this story right here and say, "everything is back to normal," but that's not life.  And is there any true normal?

During the time of my husband's recovery and our lightning party, another storm was brewing on the horizon.  It was call a recession.  My husband is a builder, so when the housing market tanked, so did the the extra cash flow.  We were relieved (beyond measure) that he still had a job, but with the strain of our medical bills and repairing the damage to the house, the extra income had become our grocery money.  Somehow, telling our kids not to eat didn't seem feasible. :)

Before we had children, we made the decision for me to become a SAHM (stay at home mom).  We felt like the Lord was calling me to be at home with them and focus on their little lives for a season.  That timing was cut shorter than we had planned, due to finances.  When we realized that I needed to find a job, I sort of panicked.
I had forgotten that we serve a creative God.
He provided a job at a preschool so that I could use my teaching experience and yet have my children there with me.   It turned out to be exactly the amount we needed for our grocery budget.  And not a cent more.

For two years we worked hard at sticking to the budget and not spending excessively.  We were beginning to see light at the end of the tunnel.  We learned to save for big (necessary) purchases and we learned to live without.

God wasn't done with us yet.


We had learned to accept our situation, but we hadn't learned to step out in faith.  We had learned to deal with what was handed to us, but we had yet to learn the meaning of sacrifice.  That's when we felt the Lord call us to home school.  (You can read about my journey to that decision here and here.) Home schooling our children meant I could no longer work at the preschool.
Our income would decrease.  Decrease, as in go down.
Some called us crazy.  Heck, we even said we were crazy.  But that's what true faith looks like, right?

Being creative with your finances isn't always what you'd expect, but the rewards are priceless.  Remember our trip to Maine?  We were able to afford that trip because we camped.  In tents.  El cheapo.  What a memory my kids would have missed out on if I didn't take a step out of my comfort zone (like heat and a mattress).

My children have learned the value of hard work and to appreciate the things they have earned.  They have learned that children and adults alike don't get everything they want.  They have seen the fruits of the gift of time far outweigh the objects.  
When I say they, I really mean "we."
I still have a long ways to go.  I still battle feelings of frustration when I see other kids get every kind of electronic gizmo available without any expectation of responsibility.  I still feel a little jealous of my friends who can afford to sign their kids up for camps/classes/lessons.  But I am learning.

And learning takes practice.  And faith.
And enough humble pie to write about this journey.

*I have just a little bit more to share with you about my journey.  I can't stop now.  The best part, the view from the top of the mountain, is why I started this story.  Stick with me for one more day.  Every story needs a good ending.

My Journey (part 2)

We live in a very affluent area.  Our friends are attorneys, doctors, business owners.  The difference in income had never been an issue for us, though.  We worked hard and enjoyed life.  My husband is one of those guys who can fix anything and his skills have been freely lent to those in need. Because of his line of business, we were able to build a large home (at cost) and we’ve always opened it to others to enjoy.  We thrive on making others feel welcome and feeding the multitudes.

But when our financial burdens became great, along came feelings of jealousy.  I have always been a bargain seeker, but now it was a requirement.   I have never been high maintenance, but the pressure drove a wedge in my heart toward my high maintenance friends.  How could they spend $200 on a purse when I am struggling to buy groceries for the week?  My friends were having a hard time deciding which major sporting event to attend while I was having to decide which of my children's activities to cut from our budget. They had not changed, but my perception had been marred.  Rather than being happy for their gain, I was being eroded by my fear.  How will we be able to pay for college?  Will my children's futures be impaired if they are not involved in extra curricular activities? 

My dear husband would hold me as I cried and say, “We’re going to be okay.  It will work out.”  My response was, “I’m ready for it to be worked out now!”   I felt abandoned by my heavenly father.  How could a God of love allow these things to happen to us?  We were already living within a tight budget.  Why us?  Why did our house get struck?  Why did my husband have an accident?  So many whys. 

And so the pity party began.

I’ve been a good girl.  We take care of our belongings.  We try to share with others.  We don’t take things for granted.  We are not consumed with stuff.  My husband works so hard.

For more than a year I struggled with these thoughts.  I vacillated between feeling rejected by God and wallowing in self-pity.   I watched my husband be broken; and then in typical male-fashion, move on.   His faith was unwavering.  He continued to say, “The Lord is watching over us.” 

We chose to fight this together.  How easily it could have caused a rift in our marriage, but we decided to weather this storm arm in arm.  We became creative in our financial choices.  We looked at our budget and cut everything we could, including car washes and haircuts.  All nonessential household purchases (i.e. candles, fun pillows) were off the list.  It was a big step for this interior design chick.  But after a while it became a little game of how much could I NOT spend.  Grandparents stepped in and helped tremendously with clothes and shoes for the kids.  I took a part time job which turned out to be a wonderful experience.  We stuck with our plan and began to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

My heart began to mend as well.  It was a long road; I won't deny it.  I missed  some joys because I was obsessing over what was hard.  When I began to take my eyes off myself, His true beauty began to shine through.  

I realized time and time again: It's not about me.  Oh, I wanted it to be about me.  Selfishness is a talented chameleon, isn't she?

To be continued...

  

My Journey (part 1)

The house was full of people; a group brought in from a cookout by the roll of thunder.  As the adults conversed downstairs, children of all ages played above.  The storm grew louder along with the laughter and squeals from inside.

The laughter was severed when a bolt of lightning struck so close we could smell the smoke. 

A large tree in our yard had been struck; enough to kill it, but not enough to bring the mighty poplar down.  At the base of the tree, buried just below the surface, lay the newly installed underground dog fence.  The lightning bolt was fierce enough to travel through the wire conductor right up to our detached garage and blow the wiring off the wall.  Such fury left all of the electrical outlets blown and enough might to leave a dent in the garage door from the electrical box being flung across the room.

Such power.  Such destruction.

But it could have been so much worse.

My home was overflowing with children and parents.  We were immediately grateful for the protection of human lives.  We even laughed about the giant limbs that had narrowly missed our house.

But our laughter turned to frustration as we learned how much it would cost to have the now ravaged trees removed and the wiring replaced.  Grateful for lives spared.  Despaired over the financial burden.

This was not the only storm we had faced within the year.   Eight months earlier we had faced a different kind of storm that had brought us to our knees, literally.  My husband had been involved in a hunting accident.  Reconstructive surgeries and months of rehabilitation had left us worn out, both physically and financially. 

Looking back, I know in my heart of hearts that there are much worse storms that the human race faces on a daily basis.  To the cancer survivor, the parent who longs to hold an unborn child, or the broken hearted, this story may seem trivial.  But this is my journey.  My difficult road.  
My story.

To be continued...