The Cost of Being Empty

It's the husband this time. I don't get on here as much as the wife, but that's because she usually has more to say and can say it in better ways than I can. However, every once in a while I pop on when God has been teaching me something and I want to share it.

As Calli has said our lives have been quite busy lately with me getting a new job (started end of November) in which I am actually making more money than my wife—unusual since she has been working as a teacher in the past and I as a landscaper. However, the landscaping has been put aside for the time being in favor of a more lucrative and equally if not more satisfying means of winning bread—delivering it!

However, this job has come with its challenges. My schedule is radically different than with landscaping because I now get up between 2 and 4 am Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday (with Wednesday & Sunday being my days off). Getting enough sleep is still a challenge and I still haven't figured out completely how to fit enough of it in throughout the week. However, sleep is not the only important thing which has suffered the past two or three weeks, Bible reading/private worship have also. I've still gone to church, discussed things in Sunday School, sung and prayed in worship, read good books, but having/setting aside focused time for God has not happened either because I'm too tired or too busy.

I have known this is not good, but it wasn't until this week that God got my attention about it in a new way. Last week and the week before a specific conversation opened up which had written all over it "opportunity for sharing the gospel" (in some way or another), but each time I found myself bone dry in terms of spiritual power. I found that instead of having words ready to flow in response to the open door I saw before me I had nothing to say. It was like a dream in which my evangelistic feet were rooted to the ground and I watched in horror, but was unable to move them at all.

It may be that in past times my spiritual senses were not open to seeing opportunities the way I can see them now that I have spent many hours sharing the gospel with people from all over the world. What ever the reason I have never felt such dread at the lack of spiritual power that I knew I ought to have.

I didn't recognize it in the moment, but later as I thought about what I had experienced these two times in the past two weeks it became painfully clear what was wrong. I was not filled with the Spirit. God seemed to be saying to me in bright flashing neon letters, "If you aren't filled with the Spirit you can't evangelize," over and over again. I had never before seen the negative impact of my neglecting personal worship of God as literally crippling me evangelistically. I could have said some words in those situations that came up, and I did say a couple things, but I could feel that the power I normally spoke with during such opportunities was completely gone. My words felt hollow and empty to me and I could see that even as I tried to say things they were missing the heart of the issue.

Paul tells us in Ephesians that we must be filled with the Spirit. Lest I be misunderstood let me briefly explain that the Bible uses 3 main words in relation to the Holy Spirit and believers: gift of the Spirit, baptism of the Spirit, and filling/filled with the Holy Spirit. The gift of the Holy Spirit is what Peter tells the Jews in Acts 2 will receive if they repent, believe, and are baptized. I take this to mean that this is the biblical way of speaking of new birth, so all true believers have the gift of the Holy Spirit (He is present inside them permanently in some way or another). The baptism of the Spirit is what Jesus says will happen to His disciples and so He tells them to wait in Jerusalem for it and Scripture does not uses this language to describe a repeated experience of these men. Instead, the language Scripture uses to describe what repeatedly happens to the Apostles and other believers is filled with the Holy Spirit. The Apostles pray for boldness to speak the word in the face of the Jewish leaders' opposition and the room is shaken "and they were all filled with the Holy Spirit." Stephen and Barnabas are described as men characterized by being filled with the Holy Spirit and they perform great acts of boldness and generosity. We see all throughout the book of Acts the Holy Spirit filling people to empower them to speak the good news.

Finally we get to Paul's letter to the Ephesians and we find a description (almost) of how to be filled by the Holy Spirit "but be filled with the Spirit, addressing one another in psalms, hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody to the Lord with all your heart, giving thanks always and for everything to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, submitting to one another our of reverence for Christ."
I take this to mean that intentionally enjoying and learning about God—worship—(reading the Bible, singing, praying, listening to others teach about and praise Him) is the way that we invite Holy Spirit to fill us. That is both my experience and what I believe I find taught in Scripture. So that is what I mean by saying that I have neglected the filling of the Spirit these past few weeks. When I am not spending regular intentional time to focused-ly enjoy His presence through prayer, reading, writing and singing He is disinclined to give me His power to do His work.

Since Paul says "be filled" I believe that the Bible commands us to be in this state. So what was so convicting this morning as God showed me what was going on in those opportunities I missed was that it was my fault that I was not filled with the Spirit. No, I am not in control of Holy Spirit and I cannot make Him give me His power. But yes, I am responsible for not inviting Him. His response of withdrawal from me is not something I forced Him to do, but my lack of power to obey Him in sharing the gospel when I had the chance was because I was also disobedient in pursuing intimacy with Him. Just as I pursued joy in my wife and sought to spend time with her, so I must pursue God.

This lesson is a sad one to learn the hard way since my disobedience costs others. The only thing I can say is that I am glad to be learning this sooner rather than later and that I hope I will never forget it as I seek to share the good news with the people of Japan as well.

All this to say, praise to the name of the Lord who showed me my sin. If He had not shown me that my lack of power was due to my distance from the source of Life and Power I might have continued longer and missed even more opportunities. Just look at what our disobedience costs others. Because I was not spending intentional time to enjoy God and be filled with the Spirit I was unable to share the good news like I should have to those who needed it. I only pray that God may give me another opportunity to tell of His glory, and that if He does I will be filled and ready to be used to share the good news.

Shut Up & Point to Christ (My "Beef" with Women's Conferences)

I am ashamed of what I once spent my time doing. Vanity is a great deceiver in our society, and I am no exception. Vanity is more than simply thinking you’re hot stuff and spending hours in front of the mirror. It comes into one’s life in subtle ways. There are so many things that I don’t care about anymore which I used to invest in a great deal. And what a waste those things were! I could have been pursuing my Savior. I could have been reading the Word. I could have been soaking in the presence of pure Glory, and I traded that for garbage heaps. 

The time I spent in high school reading Teen Vogue, making fashion statements (though not popular ones; I’ve always been odd), hanging up or even getting rid of the enormous amount of clothes that consumed my walk-in closet, is saddening. It’s not that I exuded the typical behavior of one said to be vain. It’s that the vanity consumed my time without my ever noticing it, without anyone in the church batting an eye, because the version that consumed me was typical, even a-typical (better than most). “Oh, Calli is so down to earth and kind. She has her own style and doesn’t care what others think. ” Ah, but even caring what I think a great deal (or even at all) is not the goal; it should always be about what the Savior thinks—His thoughts are to become mine own. What does it matter what I perceive as fashionable when there is a book that tells me what God states to be not only fashionable but commanded!?

And then there’s my time in Colorado. (I do not include college in the list, for I still consider it a sweet time with my Savior which I have no wish to trounce upon with critique). Sure, I continued my conversations with folks about God and ministered to tons of humans (just like I had in high school), but my time with the One that matters most was a paltry thing indeed. Once again, Vanity crept in and began to eat away at me in socially acceptable ways. But vanity upped the ante this time around. I was no longer making fashion statements from Goodwill racks and clothing closets; I was making money, money that Vanity would have me spend in ways I am now ashamed of. Money that could have been spent on Kingdom causes. 

I started to get my hair done on a regular basis, and caring about looking interesting and captivating. I wanted my outer form to match my insides. I purchased more makeup, which I only occasionally wore, and slowly stopped tithing. I watched “What Not to Wear” and purchased items that made me look “my” best. I learned how to tell from a rack how something would look on my form (which means I took the time to study the science of my body and clothes in general—that’s a lot of time if you have never practiced this “art”). I spent longer amounts of time getting ready for dates and church, and no time preparing my heart to meet potential suitors or for worship. I dared step into the presence of God on Sundays thinking more about my waistline than my devotional time. 

There was never a time I have felt more confident about myself (in human, physical terms) than that period of time. I was in the place everyone had said I should be one day. I felt confident in my own skin; I knew what I was worth; I walked with determination and taught with hutzpah. Those I admired most in the church had told me that one day I would be here, in this place of confidence, and I was. I had arrived. And that….was the whole problem. 

My physical, outer beauty (no matter how beautiful a Daughter of Eve might be) does not matter a damn in the Kingdom’s cause of evangelism and holiness; and it is usually a distraction from the One who matters most. What does matter is “that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God's sight.” Sure, I still had some (perhaps a good bit) of this, but I would have lost it were it not for God kindly beckoning me back into time with Him at the expense of my looks (at least, culture-wise). Vanity had slowly lured me into her grasp, and God had slowly beckoned me back, so that during the end of my time in Colorado I became more like when I had arrived: careful to spend time with the Most Valuable Treasure (Christ!) in the morning and not as careful to ready myself for the day in the lesser, more physical senses. 

So why this time of confession that you perhaps think not necessary at all? After all, isn’t it good to know that God made you beautiful and to pursue beauty? Did not God make, esp. women, to look and feel beautiful—to put beauty into the world? 

No. Just No! …

The truth is God made everyone to pursue beauty; women are not special in this regard; I do not see that in scripture. And the beauty we are to pursue has nothing to do with us, for true beauty is Christ! We are all, male and female, to pursue Christ (the truest beauty there is). It is a mere! result that we, internally, become more beautiful. The internal beauty does often affect our outer beauty, but that is in no way the goal. The goal has and was and always will be Christ and pursing Him, becoming more like Him along the way! 

So, Women’s Conferences and meetings and books, for the Love of Christ (literally!) stop telling women they’re beautiful. Perhaps it is true that some women are under-confident, not understanding their identity and worth in Christ, but since when has it ever been about us (as humans!)? You do not “fix” under-confidence by talking about beauty until you’re blue in the face or emphasizing the woman’s identity (even in Christ, for that preposition makes it NOT the ultimate!). Under-confidence is cured, not by looking at the self, but by looking to Christ and forgetting that you matter in the first place. 

You will soon, as your gaze is fixed upon Savior, forget yourself and be so filled with glory, that you no longer think yourself unworthy or worthy but are simply occupied with thoughts of Christ—the most worthy! It has never been about the horizontal; it is about the vertical (which effects the horizontal). 

So women, tell other women to read the Word. Tell other women to look to Christ when they’re feeling under confident; to cling to who He is; they will discover worth in Him and not themselves (Praise the Lord!). Preach doctrine and seek depth and read scripture and worship Holy Spirit rather than wasting time by talking about beauty, identity, and self. You may be harming the women you are trying to heal. Remember, it is not your job to heal a spirit any way; it is your job to point to the One who can. 

So, let’s point to Christ. Let’s all, male and female, become a big flashing sign that says “Here is true Beauty. True Identity. True Worth. True Essence. Truth Itself. His name is Christ. Let’s worship.” Let’s, as Trip Lee says, “Brag on Our Lord,” and leave the rest to the secular world. Let us not preach psychology nor self-help nor self-confidence. Let’s preach Christ. 

I have no desire for others to have the seeds of vanity planted in them whilst in church pews or at Christian conferences. Those seeds can grow and choke out the pursuit of Christ, like they did for me at times. Let us plant the seeds we are commanded to—seeds of Christ and Christ alone. To God be the Glory forever. 

Amen. 

My Pain in the Neck.

These past few days have been difficult. It is always hard when I'm in more pain in my back and neck than usual. Saturday and Sunday were extra trying because my back and neck were affecting my stomach in not so great ways, and the cavity that's forming in my back tooth has been affecting my right ear pretty intensely as well. So, I've been "not so good" in my back, neck, stomach, ear and teeth--all interconnected and all working off of each other's pain to incapacitate me. My biggest grievance when this happens is not the pain. I no longer am concerned about it (though there was a time when I used to be). Pain is a part of life. There is no reason I should be a special exception. It is always temporal; I can not only imagine a life hereafter without it; I am also blessed enough to know that after a few days I will often receive some form of relief (not the case for most people).

No, the hardest thing about it is being incapacitated, unable to do the things I wish to, whether that mean cleaning or grading or especially attending church. I cried so bad this past Sunday because I could not get up to go to church. I simply had to lie on my back and weep as my neck locked up in that all too familiar way. I miss worship and the body of Christ and fellowship with my husband on Sundays when my body seems determined to deter me from something holy and right.

It does help to have a loving husband with me in the pain. It also helps to go the chiropractor every two weeks (there was a period when I went twice a week, so improvement has happened despite current pain). The thing that is still difficult for me to grasp is the point of all this. (I know I've spoken of this before, but bear with me...suffering is a continual learning process) I ask myself sometimes: Why must I miss church due to neck pain? Why must I suffer through school days with difficult children whilst my back experiences its own personal hell? Why can I not have a normal morning with my handsome husband as other wives get (one without pain every time I turn toward him)? I ask myself these questions on the days when I am especially flesh-driven, on the days when I have forgotten my Savior's suffering, on the days when I am self-centered, on the days when I ask "why me" instead of "why not me." So, I decided to explore my neck journey to see the hand of God there, to once again accept the fact that there is a purpose in the pain and in the seemingly pointless days in bed. And here is my story...

During the first months of this battle, I didn't really know what was going on. At the start of my second year of teaching, a lady had bumped me at a stoplight. We stopped. We chatted. Nothing seemed wrong. So, when I started having intense neck pain and sickness every Friday at James Irwin Charter School in Colorado, I blamed stress and a bad immune system. I grew quickly acquainted with Susan Mitchell's guest room where I spent Friday nights in pain and silently weeping. I was often alone--I felt I should be. Who, after all, would want to deal with an invalid every weekend, I asked myself. (Of course, Susan would have, but I had not yet learned how to be a burden at this point in my life.) I would work hard all week, Friday would be hell, I would usually leave school early due to neck pain and often vomiting (missing my drama class), and crash on the guest room bed at Susan's--sometimes petting Sunny, the family dog, and sometimes calling David Shelley on the phone (my suitor at the time). Sunny would make me smile, and since I could convince David I was feeling chipper though I wasn't, I left those conversations feeling better too. This became a bit of a routine, and I simply (like my father) learned accept life as it was--I believe we Clearys are a bit like the mountain people in Christy, slow to seek solution and quick to accept life as it comes.

Fast forward quite a long bit...long enough to call it quits on all suitors, focus on the Word as a single all over again, and re-meet the one suitor I was intended for...

My pain basically disappeared once I visited Scotland & Iceland with dear friends, moved, started dating my future husband Isaiah, and got engaged. I now consider it God's special grace and care for me during my courtship and engagement time. I believe He very kindly put my trial on hold until further notice whilst my Isaiah wooed me and whilst I learned that burdening people at times (specifically a husband) is part of a life lived correctly. Judi, at the time my future mother-in-law, noticed something was wrong and suggested their chiropractor (Dr. Rose), giving me the birthday present of paid-for appointments, not knowing what this would mean for my life.

Dr. Rose, after x-rays, informed me of my severe reversed neck curve and of the fact that, that fateful bump at the stoplight was the last nudge needed to screw my neck up for a long time. I've had chiropractic appointments ever since. And I have learned quite a bit from this experience with the chiropractor...including lessons about how to accept pain when it serves to produce solution (whether that be a correct neck curve or a more holy life). I have also learned lessons about sacrificing immediate desires for the sake of something of greater importance (though this started in a lesson of eating non-inflammatory foods in order to seek lesser pain, it ended in a spiritual understanding of the sacrifices we make for the sake of righteousness and holiness....worthy causes which at the time seem less tempting than the immediacy of indulgence). And I learned of the power of prayer. My neck did not move a centimeter (7 months of nothing!) until Elena Farrell prayed for healing for it at the Boardwalk Chapel. When she prayed and claimed in Christ's name, I started to feel it move for the first time, and the moving was immediate. When I came back home and looked at new x-rays, I couldn't believe it; the immovable bones had become alive with movement. I will not again doubt the power of prayer or the healing that is possible and probable when the Holy Spirit is present. I lost a bit of my Presbyterianism that night, but I also lost an even bigger measure of my doubt.

Before I move forward though, it should be known that this moving, which Elena prayed for, was painful. My healing was neither pleasant nor painless. I remember one fateful night in the back room at the chapel with Alexandra Ramey and Mikaela Wilson. It is to this day the worst pain I have experienced in my short and blessed life thus far. I was crying and holding their hands and being prayed over, and so many essential oils were placed on me that I swear I smelled like a one-woman garden. It was this night that I truly learned dependence. It is true that Isaiah had already helped me immensely (as had his family), but this was the night when I broke. There was no way I could care for myself. I had nothing left, so I could longer try, and I let go. I broke before my sisters in the Lord, and I didn't shatter to pieces. Instead, I was held and comforted and I heard their stories of pain and struggle and was strengthened by their weakness and mine before the Father. Not to rip off Charles Dickens or sound cheeky, but it truly was the worst night of my life and the best night of my life. I have never since feared breaking in front of others who may not be able to handle it. I just break. And I never get broken completely because God is constant, and we are all more resilient than we know.

I also learned to love the Word of God in a new way that summer. I could not go out as the others could at night, for often, after the night service, I could do no more. My body was finished, and my neck screamed at me to lie down immediately (on the plank boards of the Boardwalk if necessary). So, I would head back to the Dunn House (often alone but not always) to get in a hot tub which offered some relief and read the Word of God which offers all of the relief a girl could need. I read a lot of the Bible that summer, and learned to relish sweet moments with the Savior when alone and in pain. I learned that being in pain with God is actually preferable to feeling good with Him. There is a connectedness to Christ in suffering that cannot be otherwise gleaned. And I still love remembering discussing the Word with Isaiah when he returned from night evangelism, telling him what I had learned and what I was looking forward to reading again. It was a hard time, but it could not have been sweeter.

And now, I am here, months later (almost a year later) with less chiropractic appointments and less frequent pain, but still annoying and at times agonizing, pain. When the pain and more importantly the incapacitation comes, I ask why, for I feel I have learned the lessons God intended to teach me through this. Why, I wonder, must I keep this pain the neck, this still only partially healed mass of bones and nerve that plague me when I have learned what God has intended for me to learn? For a while I tried to comfort myself with what others would likely tell me--that God is not finished teaching me, and that may well be true.

But what I have found a greater truth, one that is of greater comfort, is this: Jacob--God's Israel, learned the lessons intended for him when he wrestled with The Angel, but he kept his limp for all of his life. God taught Israel, as He has taught me--not to be self-sufficient, not to deceive, not to be always working and pushing--to rest, to depend, to learn to be lesser. And yet, though the lessons were learned, Israel continued to limp because of the impact God had made on his life. So, if this pain in the neck is to be my limp, my memory of an encounter with the Almighty who had things to teach me, who considered me worthy enough to taught, then it is a blessed pain in the neck which I will continually try to look on with gratefulness and even joy.

I may not be as strong as I once was, but like Israel, I have become taller indeed.

Until There's Nothing Left: The Christian Call

Recently, my brother told me he felt I was too forbearing--that perhaps, as a result of my pragmatic questions of "Is this a useful emotion?" and "Does this matter in the Kingdom?"--I had too many repressed emotions that, at any moment, could implode. At the time, I found his comment utterly false, and unlike a lot of other conversations I've had with him in the past, I am happy to report that this initial reaction has only been affirmed in hindsight. 

This has indeed been another year of "dying to self," and I have never had a more exhausting, nor a more fulfilling year. In my marriage, I have become much more concerned with asking these types of questions this past year, and I’ve learned that there is very little that’s important enough to even bring up to Isaiah. Most things, I am able to handle with just God and I—some of these being caused or partially caused by my own sins of selfishness and self-focus—and the rest bring some form of preference (not important in the least; we all have them, so why not let them go?) or mild irritation, which when prayed over, is easily put into perspective. I have also asked myself these questions concerning the woman who was in our home for quite a while. 

My conversations with God looked something like this: 

“God, I am irritated that there is a complaining woman sitting on my toilet whilst I am trying to have a relaxing shower after working all day.” 

Response: “And did I not do more for thee?...

And do you mean it when you ask to seek ministry training for missions full-time?...

Do you think a small trial such as this is real suffering for my name's sake?” 

...Discussion ended because God has totally owned me with his awesome logic and his example in form of Jesus Christ. 

Prayer then ensues about my selfish heart and the need for continued radical change. 

My teaching has also been highly effected by the issue of forbearance and dying to self. It is true, as the quote up in my classroom claims, “When justice and mercy kiss, there lies solution.” You do need justice to run a classroom. But, for me, it seems that patience and forbearance are much more important, for, in the end, it is really not about me having a good day. It’s about me having a good witness to students who may or may not know what grace in the face of meanness and disrespect looks like. 

The central advice I have received during my teaching career is "You need to be more of a b****," "You need to make them fear you," and "You're just too nice." And, while I know that this advice comes from a good place and that, yes, I, at times, am too nice, it is advice that I cannot fully take to heart. I not only seek to set and stick to standards in calm and kind ways. I also place character (my own most importantly, since I am the classroom example) above my feelings and even my comfort and well-being. 

If you disagree with me here, do not worry. I felt unsettled about it for a long while too until I figured out that I still 100% agree with this perspective. Ultimately, I care more about my students seeing a grown up speak with kindness, respect, and holiness than I do about my own comfort and ease in the classroom. I take stands and kindly rebuke when needed, but my "when needed" is not the same as most others which often means more (at least emotional) harm to me. It is a trade off. But it's one I've finally reached a certain peace about. It is a dying to self. 

My self (my comfort, my ease, my personality, even at times my authority) is less important than showing my students, over all, what Jesus looks like. Is Jesus authoritative? Yes. Is He Justice Driven? Yes. But, He also cares more about a student's soul than he does about my own comfort. If I can win just one soul for Christ, or peek just one student's curiosity about what makes me kind in the face of difficulty, that is worth more than a thousand days of ease and comfort for me in the classroom. I'll get that in Glory. They may not.

I say these things, and yet living in this way is difficult. I often feel that other teachers have it easier, and I have found this to be true. But I am not called to have it easier. I am called to be a light in a world full of darkness. Does that not include a classroom? 

I do not mean to say that I am a push-over. I mean to say than I am a humble servant of Christ. We are often taken for push-overs this side of the Kingdom, and our lives are often painful, for people take kindness to be weakness when actually it takes great, unearthly strength. 

When my students are unkind, when they make fun of how I handle issues (with humor, with awkwardness, with holy standards), when they disrespect me, they are sent out but not until after I try every other redemptive act possible, often to the detriment of my energy but to the improvement of their character. I have always scolded myself about this. ...About the fact that I am slow to act and to anger. But these--are not bad qualities. They are holy ones which God has cultivated in me. 

I am only just beginning to come to terms with the fact that I, as a teacher, will never be at peace as other teachers are. I will always be in pain because kids are cruel and disrespectful and mean whilst I remain constant, kind, and forbearing to those who don't deserve it. I have finally realized that this is not a struggle because I am a bad teacher, or because I am a teacher at all. 

It is a struggle because I am a Christian: I exude grace while being shown something much uglier. It is no different than any other job I've had, or any other hardship I've endured. It simply is more evident when in the teaching field. 

I have figured out that I am dying to self every day in the battle field of my classroom. And that is why it's hard. That is why I struggle. But it is a worthwhile struggle and a hardship that matters. It is not for nought. It is for the Kingdom, so that my kids, knowing that I am a Christian, will never be able to say that I was anything other than Christ to them. 

Though I began teaching wanting to be Christy of Cuttergap, wanting to show Christ to students, somehow along the way I got lost and began to believe that I taught because I was good at it, because it fulfilled me day to day, because it made me feel ignited and important and valued. 

I am no longer lost. I teach not to be fulfilled but to fulfill others. I teach not because it gives me energy but because it drains it, and loss for someone else's good is gain in Christ. I teach because I can make others feel valued and important even when, at the end of the day, I end up feeling like nothing. 

I teach to give out. Just like I live to give out.  Just like I give in my marriage. Just like I give in ministry. Just like I plan to give in missions. This life is not about my being fulfilled. It is about me seeking the Father, getting filled by Him as much as possible, and giving until it hurts. 

Until there's nothing left. 

That is what my Father did. I am to be about His business. 

All Glory to Him for refocusing my heart and motivation. 

What God Has in the Cards for us "in the right now"

Sitting here drinking homemade hot chocolate with my wonderful husband and thinking about happenings of late. In our last post, I updated you guys on our heart for missions in Japan and continued progress in that respect. We're now hoping to go on a vision trip soon and perhaps visit our friends, the Sinks, in Nagoya, Japan. Please be praying about the details of that trip and the money we will need for it as it takes shape. We are both working full time jobs. Hence, most of the funding we can provide for ourselves. But, we may be sending out letters as well for any remaining funding needed. Prayer for the needed time off work would be helpful as well.  

We are also very content with how things turned out for our house guest. For the past three months, we'd had a lady living on an air mattress in our front room. God had a plan for her being here, but sharing a one bedroom apartment with only one bathroom entered through our bedroom, was certainly interesting. She is now in a safe place, and we are grateful to have our home and alone time back. Though, if you folks could pray for her as well, that would be wonderful. She's having a difficult time transitioning in her new environment and is having to learn some hard things. She will need her relationship with God and quiet time with Him more than ever. It is our greatest wish for God to become and remain her comfort and sustenance at all times. We will continue to be a part of her life but in a much lesser sense than we were;  she will continue attending Rich Fork with us on Sundays and being our friend and sister in the Lord. 

Colton (my brother) has been sitting next to me for the last few hours watching "Arthur Christmas," which is also a blessing. Due to a strain with my mother, I haven't been able to spend quality time with him in a while. My heart, which has been sad over this, is full again in the wake of his laughter and smiles. My relationship with mom is still strained, but I continue to rely on God and speak to her in the way wisdom leads me. I so wish that my family could be what it once was: a force in the Kingdom of Christ--united, attending church, and strong in the faith. But  that is simply not what God has in the cards for us at the moment. Since He is God, and I am not, I will trust His wisdom, goodness, and plan with my life and with theirs. I will cling all the more to my Savior. Not every family can be like Isaiah's, and if God sees fit to have mine be broken (for now or for forever) in order to bring Himself ultimate glory, I will trust Him still. He has always and will always know better than I, for I am the created. He is the Creator. I have already submitted this part of me (as well as every other part) unto Him. That has not changed and will not. Praise be to God! 

It is difficult at times because the problems with mom or at school seem so small compared to life lived for Christ in Japan. I am often tempted to discredit these seemingly temporal and lesser things in order to concentrate on what I think of as a greater calling. But we serve a God who calls us to be faithful in the great things--those large things in life--and in the small things (which turn out not to be small at all). Cleaning a home, emailing a loved one again when you feel like quitting, honoring students who do not honor you back in the least--these are things that make up a faithful follower and which help train a Daughter of the King, which aid in her in becoming like her Father God. Hence, I will pray and strive not to think these things lesser but to believe the truth that they are great in the Kingdom of Heaven. 

Isaiah's bread route has been crazy with the snow, and we still do not know what Monday will bring. My job has been hard as well, and I have thought of quitting more lately. The only things keeping me there right now are the thought that this semester is soon coming to a close (which will mean new students), the commitment I feel I have made, and the money coming in for paying off loans. There are huge parts of me that feel that since Isaiah now has the higher paying job, I could quit and simply do work with him. This is a very appealing prospect since his company is of more value to me than anyone else's (aside from the Lord's). There are also huge parts of me which question the worth of what I am doing; this is not sharing the gospel; it is teaching kids how to read literature they continue to dislike greatly. There are lastly, huge parts of me which feel this job takes too much time for what its benefits are (to both myself and the children). There is so much time required with teaching, and everyday I question more whether it's all worth it. It doesn't feel like it is...which is something that I would not have said a year ago. The good thing is that all of this shows I do not worship teaching or a job anymore in the least. Oh, how God has changed me! Praise Him! :) The bad things is, this makes the "right now" difficult. 

In an ideal world, I'd be working somewhere part time (somewhere where I could minister more and leave work at work) and helping my husband with his bread route. In an ideal world, I'd also be getting to have more time to do my Bible classes and read the Word. But right now is not ideal. I am simply not sure when and if that time will come. I have come to realize that waiting on the Lord is still a choice: a choice to remain doing what you are doing. This is a choice I am not 100% comfortable with, but one I remain in for the time, since I do not know what He has in store, nor do I know when He will tell me what my next steps are. I can only walk with Him and with Isaiah step by step, allowing myself to be directed by the one who has the plan. But that is more than enough, for God knows what is best for me and for the Kingdom. Who better to trust and rely on and walk with than the One who made all and knows all--the one whom I love most!?