Commomplaces

I tell my sons every night before they go to bed that I love them and God wonderfully creates them. To my oldest son, Xavier, we talk often of the loving care that Jesus provides and the comfort that is in knowing God. We also talk of carrying Jesus with us wherever we go, so others can see that love in us. This happens almost every night as my young son, with big brown eyes, lies down on his bed and recaps the day. I admit there are moments when I wish our “talk time” would last a shorter amount of time. Thoughts of my own bed and relaxing take precedence as I try to focus on the needs of Xavier. This love lesson came back to me not so long ago.
I recently spent most of a week on the pediatric floor at Sanford hospital. Atticus, my 1-year-old son, was sick with Rotavirus and needed monitoring. There I was with a terrified baby, a sick one at that. My family was home, busy with other projects and jobs, and I was left there to care for my son, not worry, and to hold his arm as they inserted an IV. I was not feeling the love.
The first night in the hospital was rough as I had no place to sleep and Atticus tossed and turned continuously and ran a fever the whole time. With thoughts of our release time in my head, I realized we would not see a discharge from the hospital the next day, and I settled in for more waiting. In the early evening hours, my son, Xavier, burst into our room, smelling of sunshine and spring, smiling from ear-to-ear. I put on a brave smile and gave him a huge hug.
I ensured that both boys had adequate alone time with their parents. Mike had Atticus, and I sat with Xavier. With him on my lap, my ice cream Sunday in his hand, I looked again into those eyes so like my own, and told him I had missed him and I had thought of him all day. When I asked if he missed me, he gave me a chocolate syrup grin and shook his head no. Somewhat dismayed, I asked why he had not missed me. He cocked his tousled head and replied, “I carry you in my heart.” Astounded I asked what he meant, to which he replied that he never misses me because we are never apart. “I carry you in my heart just like Jesus, so I don’t ever miss you.”
Jesus is in the commonplaces.

With trepidation

Wow, it is only days from now that I will embark with 30 other people to serve the hurricane ravaged city of New Orleans. I will leave on Sat May 31 and will not return till weeee late on Sun. June 8. I know most of the people traveling, yet this is my first time traveling with a mission team, it is my first mission experience. I am scared.
I am not a traveled individual, I love culture and theatre, but have had no opportunity to span the globe in search of adventure. Too many reasons I rationalize have kept me from embracing those moments. After some waffling this spring, I decided that God was right about my venturing out of my comfort zones, God wants me to serve. So, serve I shall.
I am scared though. I do not usually step up to do things which I feel I may not do well. Sure, I can hammer, but well? That is another matter altogether. This calls me to leave behind my family (2 boys ages 1 and 4) a husband I have never not traveled with, and the comfort of my life as I know it. I don't like heat, I don't know how to travel, I have not partaken of ethnic food, I am not a seasoned traveler. I do not look forward to over 20 hours in a bus.
I do look forward to seeing a part of the United States I have never seen, I am excited about serving with people I truly appreciate for a cause that makes an impact. I look forward to learning about myself and others as we endeavor to build community and homes all at the same time.
It is humbling for me to admit that I am scared, I view myself as a pretty capable woman, and here I am venturing into foreign territory. Many questions swirl in my head....Will I be able to do the work? Will my teammates make fun of me if I drill a wrong hole? Will I destroy a wall with my wrong hole? Will I survive a 20 hour bus ride? What will I see, and how will it affect me? Will I come back a changed person, what if I don't? What if I do? Will the boys be ok without me? Will Mike function as complete head of household in my absence? What more possible questions could I have? Will the crocodiles eat our swamp boat? The list grows....and so does the excitement.
Stay tuned for more as the trip and my faith develops.

Creating Drama

I know this title implies that I will be discussing making drama. On the contrary, I shall dedicate this one to the creation drama that took place here on Sunday morning.
I was privileged to share a small part of this ministry message from Steve Foss. With no words, the creation came alive before our eyes. Reminders of the glory that God has created, from mountains, to streams, to fish to birds. God saw it all and called it good. Then, depending on which verses we read, mankind is either created first or last. I liked how the drama spent such time and detail on the creation of mankind. With one breath, but with many thoughts and intentions we came to be. That is amazing to me.
With one thought, the streams were formed. With careful planning and extreme love, we were formed to care for and love those things God gave us. We were not given dominion over the earth, but a glorious chance to care for it. We have also been given the chance to care for the people and events God places in our lives. We are here for such a short time, I want to give myself the challenge to be part of a positive movement in the lives of others.
I do not know what that totally means, and God will reveal that as time progresses. I simply feel the need that while I am here, it is my job to put something positive back into the world, and hopefully when I am called home, I can face my Maker and know that I did my part to make it a better place than it was before I was there.
I pray with all that I am, that on that glorious day when I see God, I will hear God tell me that He was pleased with what I did for the Kingdom. Not that I was great and successful here, but that I did the work God wanted and in the way God wanted. I pray for the humility to accept that challenge and to lean not on my own understanding or ability.

thank you God...

I had to smile this morning as I was driving into classes and work. Although my oldest son, Xavier no longer rides with me, I remembered a tradition we had as we traveled through Sioux falls to the daycare he attended. We would round the corner off the interstate and he would exclaim that there was the new hotel being built. One day I asked him what he thought a hotel had in it. He said, " chocolate milkshakes." I had to laugh, thinking that quite possibly some of the big hotel restaurants would indeed serve chocolate milkshakes. I told him this and he smiled big and yelled," thank you God, for milkshakes." To which I responded, " Amen." It became a "thing" with us that as we drove on 41st we would see the world taking place around us, that we would shout thank you God, for whatever...signs, school buses, stop lights, mommies, daddies, sons, and daughters, whatever we could think of, we named. At the end of each one we named, the other would shout, " Amen."
I thought of that tradition as I was in the car this morning, with thoughts of impending snow, slow drivers, the early morning commute, a sluggish start to a frenzied day. I thought how much I missed that little 4 year old voice shouting out thanks to God for whatever he sees. I thought about how easy it was for him to thank God, even when I would be frustrated at not having made the green light. I thought, how selfish am I to not give thanks in all that I see, hear, feel, touch, and experience, for in all those moments are opportunities for God to speak and be revealed.
So, thank you God, and for all of them I say, "Amen!"