The Way We Were

I was reminiscing the other day on where I was 5 years ago. Quite a different place, quite a different person, I suppose. 

Not radically differently. Fundamentally speaking, I don't think I've ever changed. I love Jesus, passionately. Passionate about serving Him, no matter what the cost- and believe me, I've counted it. 

I am ok with letting ideas challenge my naturally black and white logic. It's interesting that my husband's job has become paramount for challenging my thought process. It's difficult to watch people be hateful towards you or what you do and determine that your response can and must not be anything other than deep and sincere kindness. I guess Jesus was pretty familiar with that. 

For anyone out there who thinks poorly of me, or thinks I'm crazy,  just know that Jesus is still working on me. I guess you can take consolation in the fact that He is still challenging me to be more like Him. The only thing going for me I guess, is that I want Him to change me. I'm not resistant to it, because it's all I really want. 

But I digress. 

There are certain times and places, people that I miss. At times it's hard to remember we were close once. Every now and then I wonder what it would be like if we still were. But it's quite irrelevant now. Lots of good memories, and fond times. And certainly some unpleasant ones as well. But those days are long gone. Thankfully. Ha. 

Nevertheless, I am immensely thankful for where I am now. The people that have been brought into my life have helped push me to be who I am supposed to be. Thank God for them. Thank God for everyone who ever took a chance on me. It was risky, but it made all the difference for me. Life really is a journey. I just hope I end up where I'm supposed to be at the end of it. 

But that's just me. If you dare to be so transparent, who were you 5 years ago? What would you change? Would you choose anything differently? 

Real Life and Superheroes

I've always felt like a hero. Yikes. That sounds big. And self-important. I don't mean it that way. I've just always deeply identified with THE hero. I've always been willing to give up what I want for the good of others. I deeply identify with the righteous quest of the hero. It's how I feel about life. But the thing is, this is real life, and we're not superheroes. 

It would be so easy if I was a hero in a book. I would just be handed my quest, or stumble upon it in some dark cave and then I would start off on my journey to save the world. It would be simple, and I would know my path. It wouldn't be easy, because what hero's journey is? But I'm ok with that. I don't mind things being difficult, as long as I know my goal, my purpose. 

I'm a task oriented person. I don't mind the task, as long as I know that in the end it will get me where I'm supposed to be. 

So what does a task oriented person do without a task? What's a hero without their journey? Just waiting, waiting...waiting. Looking at all the possibilities and still having no answers. It's infuriating. Part of me is screaming, "SOMEONE GIVE ME MY TASK!" But in reality, I'm not sure I'm even ready for it. I want to be though. 

I'm not afraid of hard work, or sacrifice. I'll gladly sacrifice if it will make a difference. Here's hoping the journey continues, or the next task reveals itself soon. 

This isn't a self-pity sort of post. Quite the opposite actually. It's amusing, humorous even.
It's just my process. Mulling over my thoughts. Trying to figure them out. Maybe even make sense of it all. 

After all, a hero doesn't like to sit around on the couch watching the world go by...

A Quiet Warrior

Something that happened recently that I want to share.

Somedays it seems like a battle. In the quiet watches of the night it began. No warning. No impending sense of doom. Just out of the darkness came the threat. I rationalize to myself, "it's not real." But it felt real. The horrifying terror, the inability to make it make sense.
I laid there for what seemed like hours. I'm sure wide-eyed and terrified, even if only inwardly. Finally when I could take no more, and there was no relief, I turned and woke up my husband. I asked him to pray. He prayed. A long time passed, or so it seemed. I don't even know what he said, because my own prayers never ceased. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, there was peace. Blessed peace. I don't know what I just withstood. I don't know if there was some trial I had to go through. I don't even know if that fear was for me.

On my way to work the next morning, I was still pondering. The Lord reminded me of this scripture in Philippians 4:7 "And God's peace [shall be yours, that tranquil state of a soul assured of its salvation through Christ, and so fearing nothing from God and being content with its earthly lot of whatever sort that is, that peace] which transcends all understanding shall garrison and mount guard over your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus."

Now Webster's dictionary defines the word 'garrison' as such:
A military post; especially: a permanent military installation.

I like that promise. God's peace has formed a permanent military installation over my heart and mind. I needed that. That blessed assurance. What a sweet revelation in the assessment of battle.

I don't know who I prayed for that night. But if I faced even a fraction of what you're facing... I pray that God's peace would garrison over your heart and mind. Seems like you'll need it.
And know that, for whatever reason, there is quiet warrior who is fighting on your behalf in the silent hours of the night. And it's not because I'm awesome. It's because Jesus loves you so deeply, that he calls on a random person to pray on your behalf. He loves you. More than anyone you've ever known. More than anyone else ever could.

Life Questions

Now that I've been married over three years the question is constant: "so when are you guys having kids?"
The question doesn't bother me, I know it's only natural. And it's a question I ask myself constantly. When are we going to have kids? I don't have an answer.

It's funny, because as a child, I always wanted kids. I couldn't wait to have kids. Now I'm an adult and the idea of having kids mildly terrifies me. I know I'll never "feel" ready. It's not about waiting to be "ready." Its not even about me being afraid of not being a good parent, although trust me, that thought sneaks in there too.

What concerns me the most is what is the end goal? What is the point of having kids? What is the end result that I should be aiming for when they grow up? These are the unanswered questions that plague me. I watch a lot of people, you see. And I think about a lot things. It seems like some parents lose themselves in their kids. And by the time their kids grow up, they don't know who they are or the person they're married to. They've completely lost their identity in their kids.
I just can't help but think that can't be the way its supposed to be. In my head, I want to raise kids that are independent, passionate and driven. I want to raise kids that pursue their dreams, and don't hold back. I don't want to be surprised when my grown kids have their own lives because that's who I raised them to be. I want my kids to see me and their dad pursue our dreams, serve God, and fulfill the calling on our lives. I want that to be what is normal to them. I think examples are one of the most powerful messages you can send. And I want my kids to see the example of passionate people, that know who they are, know their calling and pursue it no matter what.

It's not about being selfish. Because I know you can't be selfish and have kids. For that matter, you can't be selfish and be in ANY relationship. But I struggle with the idea that you have to throw everything out the door when you have kids. I struggle with the idea that your passion and what you're called to do just somehow disappears the moment you have kids. It seems like that's what I've seen a lot of people do. And maybe that's how it should be, I don't know. I won't pretend to be wise enough to know the answer.

Maybe this sounds incredibly stupid or like a ridiculous over-analysis. But these are the things I have to get figured out, or at least come to some conclusion about before I just blindly jump into having kids. The reason that understanding the end goal matters so much to me, is because otherwise I don't know what I'm aiming for. And I want to understand what I'm aiming for before I try raising another person.
I'm not looking for anybody to answer this for me. I'm not sure that anyone can. But I have to write out my thoughts, before I go crazy.

So these are the things that I think about. The things that I lay awake at night praying about and mulling over. I want to be the best possible parent for my children that I can be.
So here's to the journey.

Confessions of Cop's Wife

Tonight at work, my husband tracked down a car that was reported as a dangerous driver with no lights on. Turned out it was an 80-something year old woman who was lost. She couldn't remember the street name of where she was trying to go, so my husband got her sister's phone number and called to get the right address. 

He then proceeded to escort that lady about 20 miles to where she was trying to go. Even though she was following him she turned down the wrong street, got lost again, so he went to find her for a second time. Then he made sure it was the house she was trying to find, walked her to the door and made sure she was safe inside before leaving. I write this long post because it's exhausting watching people constantly rag on cops. Everyone can't wait to post a story about how a cop did something wrong, or how a cop made a mistake. No one cares to post a story about all the amazing officers out there who do everything they can to keep people safe. The officers who work long hours into the night to make sure that someone is out there to take care of a dangerous situation. 

I'm so proud my husband is a cop. I had no idea how hated cops were until he became one. Police are there to keep YOU safe. While you sit at home with your family reading this post, my husband is out there with a badge on his chest which for many may as well be a bullseye. You ask any cop, their first priority is keeping people safe. They would NEVER ask for a thank you, and quite frankly, they rarely get one. They are criticized, insulted, belittled, undermined, and openly disrespected. They never know if they'll get to go home at the end of their work day, because someone might step out of their car and gun them down on a simple traffic stop. And those of us at home never know if they'll come home at the end of shift. But my husband wouldn't trade his job for anything in the world. I'm so glad there are people like him out there. People who are willing to put their lives on the line for anyone, even those who are ready to criticize them the first chance they get. 

We need our law enforcement officers, so thank one the next time you see one. Its probably the only thank you they've heard in a while.

Off my soapbox now, but I just wanted you all to know what a day in the life of a law enforcement officer really looks like. 

Open Hands

I'm realizing that God is stripping things away from me. All claim to being important. It's not that I thought I was important, but subconsciously it was something I valued. The things that I attached that importance to, people, position and place. Those things that I somewhere in my mind thought I needed to cling to in order to hold on to that importance...all of it is being stripped away.

Maybe because I've realized that I was afraid if I didn't have those things, God would forget about me. Its not that I care so much about being important. But I want to be important to God. It's so silly, I know. In some regard I didn't even know I thought that. Until I've spent months praying and trying to understand this season of shift and transition. Quite honestly, these revelations are embarrassing for me.  I'm a person who thrives on answers. I analyze everything because I want to know and understand it all. To make it all make sense. I like to think I have no weaknesses, no limitations. How laughable that sounds now.

God is stripping things away from me. Not to take things away so that I have less. But so that I can have more. Ultimately my importance doesn't matter. It's not attached to a person, or a place or a position. It will always hinge on Jesus.
He's calling me to walk in greater faith. Greater obedience, greater trust. To walk only by faith, and not what I see. Most of life shouldn't be based on what I see. If it was, life would seem rather bleak.

It's time to be ok with the change. To remember that I hold everything with open hands. Nothing is mine. Everything is His.

Glimpses

We look for these moments.
The moments when we get a little glimpse of the future. Of what God is doing. Of the next step.
A moment where things make sense.

We all wait for glimpses.
Glimpses of the past, reminding us of the things we've lost, the people and the precious moments. The times we look back on and smile, and wish we could relive...just one more time.

Glimpses of each other. Little truths that we share about ourselves that make us feel close. Like we're not alone. We try to be strong, and just keep on moving.The truth is, we need each other. We need the little glimpses of the truth. Little glimpses to strengthen us and encourage us. To give us hope when we're about to give up.

Little glimpses to let someone else in, the utter thrill of that one love.

We all wait for a glimpse. A little glimpse of a greater reality. Little glimpses of the greatest victory.
We all wait.
I cherish these little moments that I look back on. And wait for a little glimpse of what's next.