Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Real Life

Last week the missionary man, better known as my husband, took a trip about seven hours south of here to preach the Gospel. Two of the guys from church accompanied him and they had a marvelous time with divine appointments, spiritual encounters, and making new friends in the Body of Christ. That's what missionaries do, right? Meanwhile, I stayed home and cheerfully carried the responsibility of the family, the house, the farm, the workers, and the animals. I prayed many hours for my preacher husband and gathered my children around me to teach them profound Bible lessons. That's what missionary wives do, right?

Ha. Did you really believe that? Oh the first part is true, alright, but the part about me is sort of, well, wishful thinking. (Except for the part about staying at home.) Truth be told, I didn't want my man to leave. It didn't feel good, and I didn't feel like playing the part of the proverbial brave missionary wife. The morning of his departure, I fried pancakes with a huge lump in my throat, packed his clothes in tears, and said "Goodbye, I love you" on the outside while saying "Just leave so I can cry!" on the inside. Yes, I cried a lot. And prayed. I prayed that God would bless him abundantly, although some times even that was laced with selfishness... "Please make his trip worthwhile so my sacrifice isn't in vain!" And I fought a lot. Fought for the lives of our new chicks, fought to bring my thoughts into captivity, fought the weeds in the garden, fought crazy hormones and moments of panic. "He hasn't called for a whole day, what could have happened?!" And then he did call, and I was so rattled I ended up in tears, again. I tried to share his excitement about their experiences and all the things God was teaching them about walking in the Spirit, but inside I was going, "You're not asking how I am!" But if he had asked, what would I have said? He's evangelizing the world and I want to complain about the chicken pen and my silly emotions?!

You're waiting for the punch line, aren't you? You're thinking, "Goodness she's crying the blues, will she ever get over it?"

I got over it, yes. :) And although this was very much reality to me, I thank God that there is a bigger reality... That HE is bigger than all that. In all my tears, frustrations, and frantic prayers, He never scolded. Never backed off like I do when people get belligerent. He was just there, not saying much, quietly waiting, catching my tears. I used to beat myself up like crazy after times like that, punishing myself until I felt like I was worthy of God's love once more. But He has delivered me from that and now I just rest. His love quiets me. And He reminds me that there have been, and will be, other times. Other realities, moments that take my breath away with the sheer delight of doing exactly what He created me to do...

These are the best days of my life.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Um, I feel this deep in my soul. As much as we want to always be the brave, victorious helpers, there are always those moments or even days full of moments, and there is no point pretending we don't have them... Thanks for your honesty.
"HE is always bigger." That is the profound reality that undergirds us and makes us rise up out of self pity into being more than conquerors. Loving blessings, Deepeight :)

BOOf said...

Bucky Nome, you are so dear and loveable when you are this real and honest. Now I just want an egg sandwich and licuado at your kitchen table while we sip our syrupy coffee together.

Gabriel & Hillarey said...

What Boof said. Except I'd never call you Bucky Nome :)

Allen King said...

I like that you blog at least occasionally.

We are all part of this Body and somehow I got stuck at the buckle of the Bible belt. Reading about things and places where Christian life is not so neatly packaged and marketed is a breath of fresh air.