learning to embrace life with grace and truth
The question I get a lot is, What exactly do you guys do in Indonesia?
The answer? My hubby, Dave, serves as a missionary pilot with MAF {Mission Aviation Fellowship} I’m so proud of him!
Watch this short video to find out more {the first guy is my hunky husband!}:
Click here if you can’t see the video.
Want to know more?
You can read my husband’s blog here. See more about what MAF does in Indonesia and around the world and read their blog. And find MAF on Facebook!
To God be the glory!
This is my story, my before Indonesia story. It brings tears in the telling, and the pain still rings true today. But rather than a story of failure and depression, it is a story of God’s faithfulness and the hope that is found in Him.
A few years later, Dave and I met, fell in love, and married. He finished flight training at Moody Aviation, and fresh out of college, the Lord called us to Alaska.
The first few months of life in the Alaskan bush were wonderful. The little village, above the Arctic Circle, was full of beautiful native people who became fast friends . . . especially the kids and teens. Living in a small 380 square foot cabin, with no running water and hunting our own food didn’t phase me. I loved the adventure of it all.
And then. And then. Winter came {in August} and the days became shorter and melded into non-existent, with the sun grazing the horizon at noon. The temperatures continued to drop, and drop, and drop, until they settled in around negative fifty degrees on most days, with negative seventy on the coldest days.
As the snow swirled outside our thin plywood walls, the perfect storm began to swirl in my heart and soul.
I desperately hung on to my little family and tried to guard young Britton while dealing with the morning sickness of a new pregnancy, Hannah.
And as the storm of depression, anxiety, and pain swirled in me, it erupted onto my relationship with Dave. Married less than three years and so young and naive, we began to take out our stress and pain on each other with angry words.
And as I imploded, I hardly knew how to ask for help. It went from bad to worse, and, after two years, we left that dear little village in Alaska. We returned home, battered, beaten up, and what I viewed as “failures.”
I was officially done with mission work of any and ALL kind, and wanted nothing to do with the topic. We returned to our hometown and Dave got a job in construction.
There, in the midst of “failure”, God showed up. In so many little ways, He brought people to love on us. He brought us into a community of God lovin’ people who didn’t care how messed up and burned out I was. Over time, He restored my soul, so that this girl who never wanted to hear “missions” mentioned again was excited, even thrilled, to head overseas to an island in Indonesia we now call home. He showed me He is in control….He doesn’t need me to accomplish His work, I just get to be a part of it!
The right circumstances, the right words from Him, to restore my soul.
He took my anger, my depression, my failure, and turned it into wisdom, experience, and hope. It took what I thought to be a colossal failure and made it into the best “boot camp” experience of my life.
If you are feeling broken, worn down, depressed today, I hope my story of brokenness can give you hope.
Remember beauty really does come from the ashes, and in God’s family, there are no failures, or better yet, there are nothing BUT failures. We are all failures. If we weren’t failures the cross would not have been needed. But it is and we are.
So, what do you need if you are feeling broken?
1.Community. Find those people who will love on you . . . the ones who will speak truth, allow you to be broken, but also point you to the cross.
3. Confidence. Confidence to be a mess in front of people. Confidence in God’s plan for your life. You have no idea how God might use today’s failings in tomorrow’s triumphs. Cling to hope. If He has overcome the world, He can surely overcome your current mess.
“I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.” John 16:32-33
I love to see what God is doing around the world. And the story of The Mercy House in Kenya is no exception. I cry every time I watch the video of how God took Kristen{We Are That Family} to Kenya and messed with her {in the best sense} and called her to be a part of what He is doing there.
Mercy House is a maternity house for at-risk pregnant girls. It gives them a chance. A chance to live, a chance for their babies to live, and a chance to hear the Good News of the Gospel. As we look at ways to be Jesus’ hands and feet around the world, we want to make sure that we are helping instead of hurting {causing dependence or giving hand outs}. That is why I love the Mercy House. It is run by nationals on the ground and is committed to helping girls get back on their feet.
Take a moment to watch this video about the story of Mercy House….
How can you get involved? By shopping at their store! The Mercy House store has just had it’s grand re-opening and if you use the code: REGRAND you can get 20% off.
How else? By praying for this ministry and the young girls who are a part of this program. May God be glorified in Kenya through this ministry.
*This is a repost from the archives, one that I return to again and again*
Today, I want to encourage you to be God’s YOU.
And,what if you feel like you work hard and no one notices? You pour out your heart, your time, your life, and you are not seeing the results that you want. You feel like no one sees you.
Well, I want to introduce you to a friend…..
She goes by Tinang Kule, which means simply, “mother of Kule”. Her real name? I don’t know….I have never heard it. It, like her personal identity, has been quieted….never to be spoken again.
Her life is given in total sacrifice to others, even her own name is sacrificed and she is known only as the mother of her first-born. Her day begins early. She starts the fire to begin cooking so that others might eat. It is hot and laborious work.
She smiles and sweats. She is happy that everyone likes her cooking. The satisfied nods of appreciation are enough for her.
She stokes the fire and carries on.
Task runs into task as she continues to cook and clean, care for and nurture. She hears the MAF airplane overhead and she rushes to get a brown paper wrapped package full of fried rice for the pilot….my husband. She is intent on having it there for him when he arrives. Each day she does this, for whichever pilot might land in her village to serve her people.
She rushes down the dirt road with a thermos full of hot tea and the brown paper package.
I am humbled.
She asks me if I have any laundry. I sheepishly say yes. She picks up the bag of filth and we walk to the river. She crouches down and begins to beat the clothes one by one against a rock, a rhythm of beating and twisting and soaking and twisting again. I try to help….the kids bathing nearby in the river giggle as I, the white lady, try to do it right. It is difficult and monotonous.
I whisper to the mother of Kule, “This is so much work…it doesn’t matter, you don’t need to wash our clothes.”
She replies with a big smile, “Oh no, I love to wash clothes.”
And she means it.
Seriously? She loves to wake up early with the only thing to look forward to is serving? Where is her recognition, her moment in the spotlight? Where is her identity?
She doesn’t even have a name to call her own. Tears spring to my eyes. Am I willing to do the same? To go unnoticed? The answer….embarrassingly is no.
NO.
Sure I am willing to sacrifice, to serve my family, to go mostly without recognition. But, there is that little part that wants to be known, to be recognized, to be called by my name.
She smiles and I see Jesus all over her. His is the name that she is known by….it is her identity. He sees her. And it is enough.
It is E-N-O-U-G-H.
He sees you. He is proud of you. He adores you. His praise is the only praise we need. His love fills our need for identity.
Zephaniah 3:17 says, “He will rejoice over you with singing, He will quiet you with His love.”
Do you believe it? Is it enough for you?
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I love the big, grand, sweeping stories. The moments that take your breath away. I love big radical movements, ones where the speaker calls you to the front to give something away, something big. Ones that are inspiring, that change the course of your life in a single moment. I cry reading books like Through Gates of Splendor or Safely Home where the people in the story make a sacrifice so great, it takes your breath away.
I also cry my eyes out over less sacrificial, but still moving moments. In an episode of the show, Little House on the Prairie, Pa gets hurt and can’t work. If the Ingalls family can’t harvest their crops, then they will have no food, and they will die of starvation that winter. And then, just when you think all is lost, the whole town marches across the horizon to help him harvest his crop and Pa {Michael Landon} bursts into tears {which, by the way, he does in pretty much every episode}. And I am right there with him, bawling my eyes out.
We all love story. We love feeling something deep in our soul that inspires us and incites change. I don’t think I am much different. And, by and large, it is so good. I see people rising up, being inspired to change, and not settle for status quo. Again, so, so good. My only thought is that there are times where we as Christians get the cart before the horse, a sort of Mary versus Martha scenario.
I am wondering if we are so caught up in the surrender, the “doing big things for God” and being radical, that we are forgetting to spend time with Him? Am I? Michael Horton in his book, Christless Christianity says this, “We can lose Christ by distraction as easily as by denial. ‘Christless Christianity’ can happen through addition as well as subtraction.”
And, if we are forgetting to know and love God first, what does all the “good works” really mean? Aren’t we just a bunch of good people, “doing” social justice, and forgetting the thing that is most important of all? Are we seeking Him? According to the Westminster Catechism in answer to the question,What is the chief end of man? the answer is, To glorify God and enjoy Him forever, or as John Piper puts it, “To glorify God by enjoying Him forever.”
I am convicted more and more that the most radical thing that you and I can do is to spend time with Him, at His feet, in His Word, in prayer, and in worship. These things are unseen but have a huge ripple effect into the rest of life.
I want to remember this: “I am not primarily a worker for God; I am first and foremost a lover of God. This is who I am.” -Linda Dillow, Satisfy My Thirsty Soul
And, all those little, quiet moments spent on our knees turn into one big, sweeping life that is radical.
“More than that, I count all things to be a loss in view of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and count them but rubbish so that I may gain Christ and may be found in Him…..” Philippians 3:8
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Linking up with The Better Mom, Women Living Well, and Time Warp Wife
As I ponder my last post, I want to express to you that I am nobody. Please, as you read my words on surrender and choosing “here”, do not put me on a pedestal. I don’t belong there. I am just a normal average girl that struggles the same as every other girl. Maybe more.
Don’t think for one second that my sacrifice is any harder than yours. It’s not.
Jim Elliot said it best, “Missionaries are very human folks just doing what they’re asked. Simply a bunch of nobodies trying to exalt Somebody.“
And since I view every Christian believer as a missionary, wherever they happen to live, we are just a bunch of nobodies trying to exalt our beloved Somebody, aren’t we?
The truth is, we all, each one of us, if we are living a life surrendered to His will, have our own crosses to bear. Our own sacrifices to make. They all look different, but they all feel very much the same. And most of those sacrifices, no matter where we live on the globe are mostly made up of those small moments woven in and throughout our days.
“Surrender is usually dying to self on a daily basis and most often found in the mundane.” Jennie Allen, Anything
Following the Lord and doing what He asks of you isn’t always easy. It is a long obedience, one of many mundane moments. It isn’t all lights and fame and excitement. It’s a lot of little moments of choosing to live for the unseen. Moments that can be downright difficult. But ones that can be equally beautiful.
Someone asked me, “What does a life of sacrifice look like? What exactly does living in surrender mean?”
I think a life of surrender means being so in love with our Savior that we willingly fling up our hands and tell Him we are willing to do whatever He asks of us, no matter what that means. And, doing it every day, again and again.
“Therefore I urge your brethren, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies a living and holy sacrifice, acceptable to God, which is your spiritual service of worship. And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, so that you may prove what the will of God is, that which is good and acceptable and perfect.” Romans 12:1-2
Offering the life He has given us back to Him, to be used however He wishes. Even if that means small things. Things like making your husband’s favorite dinner, or chatting with the lady in line in front of you at the grocery store, or rubbing your son’s back when you are so tired and all you can think about is crawling into bed.
It means starting out each day with the precious Savior with open hands and saying, How can I serve You today?
It means living with Heaven in view and being about kingdom work, even in the midst of car repairs, haircuts, and Little League. It’s seeing your life and the people in it through HIS eyes. And using the gifts he has given you, “your thing”, to serve as you look towards Heaven.
“What if heaven and God and forever became our normal? Wouldn’t that change everything?”- Jennie Allen, Anything
It is being willing, because of love, to pray this prayer of Betty Scott Stam,
“Lord, I give up all my own plans and purposes, all my own desires and hopes, and accept Thy will for my life. I give myself, my life, my all utterly to Thee to be Thine forever. Fill me and seal me with Your Holy Spirit. Use me as Thou wilt, send me where Thou wilt, work out Thy whole will in my life at any cost, now and forever.”
And trusting Him with the outcome.
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Photo credit: My wonderful and talented hubby, Dave.
As we haul bags into a stuffy taxi to make our way to the airport, he leans over at my frowning face with a smile and says, “You know, I think maybe going on vacation isn’t good for you. It’s too hard for you to go back.” He’s right. As I mentally prepare myself for the “going back” it is always hard. I sip my last Decaf Venti Iced Nonfat Vanilla Latte {say that fast!} that I ordered in English as I think over my life.
I’ve always known what I would be leaving, moving overseas. I knew the first time, the time when we filled the big yellow bags to the brim and smiled in front of them, full of energy and excitement saying goodbye to family, friends, and the life we knew. We were off to begin our adventure, the excitement of new things, the allure of the unknown.
But now, six years later, I know what I am choosing to come back to. I know how the dog yelps non-stop day after day after day, crowding out my sleep, wearing me down like Chinese water torture. I know the feeling of sweat dripping constantly down that spot where cleavage would be if I had cleavage. I know that sinking feeling when the electricity goes off again, and it’s anybody’s guess as to when it might come back on. I know the smell of the garbage piles on the side of the road, the ickiness of full sewers, and the constant noise of a city too packed onto it’s tiny island frame.
I know.
And yes, there are the moments where I dream of pulling a Wonderwoman dive out of the taxi and crawling back under the fresh white duvet cover with the remote and watching Cake Boss until I fall asleep.
But then.
Then I remember the why. This life is short, and I want to live it surrendered, not comfortable.
Jennie Allen, in her book, Anything, says, “If we believe that this life is temporary, that belief alone changes how we live it.” I want this temporary life to be one that I can’t live on my own, one that I need His strength for each and every day. Living in this way brings joy deep down in my soul. My sweet Jesus gave it all for me on the cross. He loves me so intently and He has given me the chance to offer back to Him a life of sacrifice.
And the truth is my life, the messy one, where I have to rely on Him to get me through, is more beautiful than any sea view, any candlelit dinner, or any afternoon spent journaling at Starbucks. The messy life I have, the one HE chose for me, is far more beautiful than any comfortable relaxing moment I can imagine, because He is in it.
And, now, knowing exactly what I am in for, I choose it all again.
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Pic taken by my hubby, Dave. A big thank you to Mandy from Biblical Homemaking for the cute clothes I am wearing in the pic. *I understand that Starbucks may be a hot button issue for some of you, but as I live out of the country, I thank you for your grace in respecting my choice to drink some coffee from home.*Linking up here: The Better Mom, Women Living Well, A Holy Experience, Denise in Bloom, Time Warp Wife, and Raising Homemakers
11 years ago, when my oldest was just a babe, I tried to scrapbook. I really tried. Back then it was all paper and doo dads and none of this fancy schmancy digital stuff. Several times I went to late night “scrap till you drop” parties with friends, noshed on peanut M & M’s and Diet Coke and beat my head against the table coming away with a whole lot of money spent and a total of 4 pages completed. 4 pages, people. In 5 hours. That’s less than a page an hour.
I would sit there and think, trying to create a “creative memory”, and nothing would come. It was agony. Truly. I would look around at friends whipping out 7-8 pages an hour and think, “What is wrong with me?”
It wasn’t my thing.
Fast forward to life overseas, a combination of sweat and tears {and sometimes blood}. I look around at my compatriate missionary wives and wish I had her administration skills {man is she good at organizing and remembering every detail!}, her musical skills {she is able to pick up any instrument and play}, her ability to decorate her home with such limited resources {and it looks just like a magazine}, or her ability to visit someone, welcome someone else into her home, and teach English, all in the same day.
And it would be easy to get stuck there and wonder “What is wrong with me?”
Maybe it’s getting older, maybe it’s God working in my heart, or more likely a healthy combination of both, but I am resolved to look at what I can do and celebrate that and not let what I can’t do define me.
So, do you wanna know what my thing is?
I sing a mean Itsy Bitsy Spider, people.
Yep. You read that right.
If you are in need of someone to be wild and crazy, energetic and fun, I’m your gal. I love kids. I love my own. I love yours. I love kids! And, in the six years we have lived in Indonesia, I have taught English clubs every one of those years.
And I want to use the talents and gifts that God has given me for His glory, however small and seemingly meaningless they are. So, if you need a spreadsheet or an event organized, don’t call me. If you need music, not me. If you want decorating advice, most certainly not me. If you need someone who can handle a lot in one day, yep, you guessed, not me.
BUT, if you want someone to act a little loopy and love on some kids, give me a call.
Because it’s my thing.
What is your thing?
“I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works: my soul knows it very well.” Psalm 139: 14
and 1 Corinthians 12
Pictures are courtesy of my wonderful hubby, Dave Forney, and are of an outdoor education class that several of us taught. You can read more about it here.
Have you ever had a story to tell that you know that you, the storyteller, are far too inadequate to tell it without it losing at least some of it’s beauty? That is this story. It is one I hold in my heart with such awe words simply cannot describe the depth of emotion.
It all began as we went into a village to encourage the people with a church service, testimonies, Sunday School, a movie on the big screen {End of the Spear}, and fellowship. I was not prepared for the way in which God would encourage my heart.
We set out on an hour-long canoe ride to a picnic spot. We passed nothing but jungle for miles and miles, water spraying our faces as we cruised along toward our destination. When we arrived, waiting there for us was a feast of freshly caught and grilled fish, rice cooked in banana leaves, river ferns, coffee, and tea.
It was an exquisite feast as these little ladies had thought of everything and smiled as they passed their humbly made food. The little old ladies laughed as they watched my twins eat up the food they had made with relish and asking for more. I silently thanked God for allowing these little ones to minister in such a way to these dear ladies’ hearts. Nothing says love like when you appreciate the food that someone has lovingly prepared. As we ate, canoe after canoe arrived of people, all wanting to join us for the hike.
Feeling full and happy, Dave and I counted all the people and it totalled more than 85! We all began the hike up through the jungle to see a waterfall Dave had seen as he was flying overhead. The trail was muddy, slick, and difficult. I fell on my hiney more times than I can count, and yet, I was being passed by 80 year old grandmas in bare feet with one of my twins on their backs, no less!! It made me feel weak and lazy!
As we approached our destination, we could hear the sound of the waterfall. We crested the last hill, and I was completely overcome with emotion. It is a huge sinkhole in the jungle, with an absolutely unbelievable waterfall inside of it. What struck me as I looked out over this beauty is that I serve the MOST amazing God that would create such a beautiful thing that only a handful of people on earth will ever see. In the middle of absolutely nowhere, God’s glory is on display, simply for the joy of beauty. That is amazing.
It might not look all that big, but peek into the pictures and see the size of the people. This waterfall is huge, and unlike the US, there are no guardrails, nothing keeping you from going right up behind it {which we did}.
As I walked around in the mist coming from the waterfall, I couldn’t help but sing over and over, I Stand, I Stand in Awe of You. God’s majesty and His glory overwhelmed my heart that day and the memory still brings tears to my eyes.
The sinkhole waterfall from the airplane.
We serve an amazing God!
For great is the Lord and greatly to be praised! Psalm 96:4
Sing to him, sing praises to Him; tell of all His wondrous works! Psalm 105:2
How has God revealed His glory to you recently?
Awhile back, Tsh shared an example of a day in her life. When I told her how much I liked it, she mentioned that I should do the same thing. SO, here is a day in my life. It is probably more mundane that you thought {please tell me you didn’t think I live in a hut and swing from vines?? I only occasionally swing from vines….ahem.}
Here is my day:
4:40am- I wake up to the sound of the mosque. I debate about exercise…but I think, if I strain really hard I can hear rain, so I opt to sit and sip coffee with my Bible instead. My eye is goopy and it’s hard to open….I think it’s pink eye. We will have to see…. or not see in this case.
6- I make some baked oatmeal and milk {yes, powdered} and go back to sipping coffee and reading.
7- Everyone is up and we all eat.
After breakfast Britton heads outside to check his traps…he caught something, and he’s happy because I pay him for every.single. one. 
7:15- Chaos ensues as sheets are stripped off of beds, laundry is started, beds and shelves are dusted. My helper, Abi, is not coming in today because she is helping her friend get ready for her wedding. I guess that means I have to wash dishes {I know…rough life!}….so I dive in.
7:45- Britton informs me that we are out of bananas {what?} and he needs some to feed his gibbon, George.
7:50-Dave leaves for work. Normally he rides his motorcycle, but today he is taking our visitors, a newlywed college couple on a vision trip. They pile into the car, along with Britton, who will get dropped off at the roadside stand down the road to buy bananas and then walk home.
8:10-I finish editing a post and publish it. Then, quickly check Facebook. Britton is back from buying bananas and George, the gibbon, is satiated.
8:40-We start school together, devotions and reading history aloud.
9am- Older two start on independent work and I sit down with the twins and Hudson to read history and then it’s on to a project and math for Hudson.
10am-The twins and I make a snack as the older three work on language. We deliver the snack and I notice the cat has killed a gecko and it’s laying on the floor. Awesome.
11am- I sit down to listen to Hudson read and then on to do a writing lesson with the older two.
11:30-Have to figure out something for lunch…..I boil some eggs for egg salad and cut up some veggies
12:15- Dave returns for lunch with our newlywed guests and we all sit down for a quick lunch. What, more dishes?
1pm-Dave and Ryan head back to the hangar and Jessica and I sit down to chat while the older kids read, finish math, and practice typing. 15 minutes later, I excuse myself and go lay down with the twins to read Make Way for Ducklings and take a quick nap. Older kids read quietly.
2pm- Wake up from nap. My eye is goopy and closed shut. Pretty sure that it is pink eye. Laundry, sweeping, check email. Yep, pretty exciting.
2:30- I read aloud to the older kids {twins still sleeping} and then paint two lines of painted wallpaper on my wall ala Jones Design Company. It’s coming along…
3pm-I probably need to shower since there is a wedding tonight of one of our helper, Abi’s, friends. Hmm. I take a quick shower and then opt to go to the salon down the road to get my hair washed, dried, and curled. (yes, completely frivolous, but for $3.00, I will happily let someone else do it!)
3:30-Kids are happily playing, twins still asleep, so I head down to the salon with my ipod loaded with an episode of Downton Abbey (don’t judge).
4:15-I return and all the kids head out to play outside with friends. I don’t have to make dinner, so I get the card and money ready for the wedding later tonight…I get dressed and put some makeup on.
5:15pm- Dave gets home and I run to the Apotek (little drugstore) to get some eye drops. I point at my goopy eye and tell them that I need something to make it better. The lady hands me an antibiotic and I also grab some worm medicine for the whole family while I’m there (that is how we roll in the tropics, people!)
5:30-Get everyone ready for the wedding. We rummage through the clean laundry for appropriate clothes and finally have success.
6:30-We all pile into the car to head to the wedding
6:45-Arrive at the wedding. I feel two things: hot and very,very tall {I’m 5’61/2″ for reference}.
We try to grab our food and make our way to the few chairs we see in the back…it is quite a feat. We see Abi and head over to her. Typical Indonesian weddings can be summed up in these words from the movie, A Bug’s Life, “they come, they eat, they leave.” You come, eat some food, then go greet the bride and groom and all their family, drop an envelope in a basket, and then leave.
7:45- We head home, sweaty, tired, and happy.
8:30-Kids are in bed, I am pooped. Dave and I climb in bed to watch The Mentalist, and I’m asleep before it’s over.
Life is good. God is good.
