It goes like this…

“I backed my car into a cop car, the other day. Well, he just drove off, sometimes life’s okay.” -Modest Mouse

I can’t afford to let anything but God be the center of my life: not health, husband, finances, career, child, house, car, family, friends, hobbies, in whatever order. All of those things can be taken away. But no one and nothing can separate me from Christ. He is the only constant. Him and that fact that in this life everything is going to eventually change. My hands are beginning to look like my mother’s. My daughter, Lily, turns 15 today. Jesus and change. Change and Jesus. Nothing is going to last but Him and His love for me.

While Sean and I were separated, He had bought me this 1978 yellow Toyota Celica. I absolutely loved it. It had a few dents, but it was totally reliable and adorable and super fun to drive.

I needed to run into one of our hospital satellite offices, to drop off a quality assurance document, for work. I found a spot in the parking garage and went inside. When I came out, I got there just in time to see an older lady in a large SUV, barely hit my car. Just enough to jiggle it. I could tell she was bracing for my wrath. I told her not to worry about it, that she had “just given character to the old girl” and I tapped the trunk with a smile. I watched her body relax and she smiled back, shocked and grateful at my surprising, if not unbelievable, response. All I could think was, I am so glad I could bless her that way because she might be going in for tests or to see a sick family member, that’s enough stress for anyone to deal with. And then something bigger hit me. If my car had been newer, nicer, more expensive, or heaven forbid, something I was still making payments on… would I have responded that way? I knew immediately the answer was no.

 I had become aware that I valued a lot of things over human hearts. In fact, unless it’s a person I know and like… I value almost everything over it. But God had sacrificed and died for those hearts, too. What did that mean? Honestly, I’m still wrestling with this one.

“I know my Identity; my name is Victory.” -Jonathan Nelson

“Where does the end of me become the start of you?” -Tears For Fears

Anything is a big ask. But I was coming to believe God, was a big God. Family and friends came to move Lily and I back to Vancouver, Washington from Newport. An apartment over the garage, kind of like my shelter in the storm but bigger and without a skylight. It was rent free for as long as Lily and I needed it and I got my old job back, that I had before having Lily. Those were hard months. I wouldn’t let Sean see Lily until he could produce a clean UA and I kept my focus on him. Slowly and painful I started to understand my focus needed to be on me. I was a mess. Just as big of a mess as Sean, it just manifested itself differently. I was a nag, judgmental and critical, fearful, hard to please and I expected Sean to read my mind. Honestly, I was so lost, I didn’t need drugs and alcohol to make me insane. I was there all by myself.

Having Lily only half the time and not being Sean’s wife, forced me to address my identity. Who was I if I wasn’t Sean’s wife or caring for beautiful Lily? That was so painful. I wanted to turn my head, cover my eyes, but I had to look straight ahead at the awful. God needed to deal with me about so many things. What better way to do it then to clear away everything and let me be by myself a few days a week. Go to work. Go to a meeting. Make dinner for just me and then fall asleep reading scripture.

The hard months turned to good months. By December, I was in a divorce recovery class and attending Al-anon and therapy. I had an amazing mentor. I had amazing friends. I was doing solid recovery work, experiencing new awareness; childhood stuff, adult stuff, some super rotten stuff. As my focus shifted off of Sean and Lily, I began to see my defects and address them. Sean had bought me a gym membership for Christmas. Best gift ever. So good for me. I felt strong and I felt confident, and I was thinking in ways I had never thought before. Things like, I was bought at a price, I must therefore, be valuable. If I am valuable, why do I not feel valuable? What was this life He died for me to have and how am I taking Him up on it? Thinking about things I never had. Things like humility and pride, awareness of motives, the anxiety that would hit over recognizing I needed to set a boundary.

I did have terrible moments battling spiritual warfare. Once, on a night that Sean had Lily and I was thinking some new thoughts, I audibly heard the enemy whisper in my ear, ‘you can’t do this.’ I could feel the temperature literally drop and I ran out of the room with my heart in my nose. Anything is a big ask when the enemy is controlling the air in a room. This is real. The battle isn’t flesh and blood. I had been very intimidated, but it wasn’t going to work for very long. I could do this, and I am still doing this. I am a work in progress. I may get waylaid or detained but I am not giving up as long as I breathe. I can do all things.

All things because whatever He asks me to do, He will equip me to do.

Slowly I let go. Sean was clean and sober but dating. I told God if that is what Sean needed to see that I was created for him and our marriage and family were worth saving, “Then Lord, let him date! Bring on the ladies if that is what he needs.” My inside out heart and head, were becoming whole. But only because of God, not because of what Sean was or wasn’t doing. Sean was no longer my God. And Christ was on the thrown of my heart.

I would go to church in the beginning and wish I was with someone when I would see the couples sitting together. I felt sad. I felt jealous. But the more recovery work I did and the more I allowed God to bring me mentors and friendships the less I felt sad or jealous. By the time I was done with the wall around my heart to protect Sean, by the time Sean had kicked over the last stone; I had gotten baptized and was entertaining the idea of dating. I was open to whatever God wanted for me. I only wanted His will; what was best for Lily and what was best for me. I was open to it being Sean or maybe not being Sean. “Even if he’s a pastor, Lord. Lily needs a dad and I desire a husband.” And there was Sean, ready and willing to take me on. And I was ready and willing to take him on. And Jesus made it so. We had been separated for about a year. We now call it the best year of our marriage. That year, Jesus saved us. Just like God promises, if we let Him and we are willing to partner with Him, He will make all things new.

“Through Valleys of Shadow and Death I am not afraid,

By my Father’s breath every star in the sky was made,

And who can I fear when you’re standing right here by my side?

Always leading, protecting, and guarding my left and my right”

-Rivers & Robots

“Lord, help us find what You want us to have.” I started praying this prayer in May 2008 and in July, Sean left. How could that be what He wanted us to have? I was talking about support and Sean’s recovery. What was God doing? I had built that wall around my heart, like the pastor had instructed, not sure what exactly was coming. I was scared. But how could it get any worse than this? A broken marriage, a baby, crying for her daddy. I saw myself literally at the edge of a vast Ocean, a precipice before me. I felt suicidal sometimes. I could so easily have jumped off the Newport bridge. But God gave me Lily, and Lily gave me purpose. I had a reason to get out of bed. So I did.

When Lily was born, I wanted to teach her about Jesus. But I didn’t know how. It felt fake and silly because my religion hadn’t taught me how to make Jesus personal. I knew He was real because of an experience I’d had as a kid. My grandparents had nightly worship. Grandpa would read us a devotion and then we would get on our knees and form a circle, holding hands and praying. I remember my grandma would always pray for the missionaries across the sea and “the sick, downhearted and discouraged. You know the needs of each one.” I loved her prayer. One night, when I was 6 or 7, while she was praying, I silently told Jesus how much I really loved Him and my heart burned in my chest, so much that it scared me. I didn’t know anything about being baptized in the Holy Spirit, or supernatural manifestations of the Spirit. I didn’t tell anybody what I said or what I felt. I was terrified and how could I explain it?

So, I’m desiring to teach Lily about Jesus. But it feels silly, fake, ridiculous when I try to sing, “Jesus love me” to her. With Sean gone, Lily & Jesus are the only things that don’t feel fake, meaningless and worthless. I didn’t understand the prayer of “help us find what You want us to have” and then this was the result of that prayer. I didn’t understand Sean leaving. I didn’t understand the devastation, the trauma of my marriage. I couldn’t believe my daughter’s current situation. This couldn’t be happening. And I couldn’t fix it for her or for me. Lily would ask when she would “see daddy.” All I could say was “daddy isn’t feeling very good right now, baby, you’ll see him when he feels better.” I had a friend remind me that I absolutely could not “bad mouth” Sean in front of Lily. I am so thankful for that wisdom. So thankful. Because I was a wreck of a human and I didn’t feel like I knew up from down. And God knew that. That was one of the reasons Sean had to go.

In order to find what He wants us to have, I have to lose some things to gain some better things. A dysfunctional marriage might need an ending to remake it into the marriage God had envisioned and originally designed. I didn’t understand that for a long time. Couldn’t God just fix it all? Yeah, He totally could but what would I learn? What if there were things in me He wanted gone because I wasn’t walking in my fullness? I wanted Him first. If I wanted to teach Lily about Him, I needed to know Him. I always desired Him but I didn’t know how to get there. I asked for Him and I asked for Him to help us find what He wanted us to have. Then He opened doors so I could be with Him. Laying under that skylight in the storm, opened a long barricaded door for Him and I to be close. Why do we need pain to see? I wish it weren’t so. Suffering, holy, sacred ground, suffering leads to a life with Him that nothing else could possibly touch.

Not for years afterward, did I ever draw the connection between me not supporting Sean in the “calling” he had felt God ignite in his heart and his relapse and inevitable abandonment of Lily and myself. To be clear, I know I am not powerful enough to cause a person to relapse but, I can certainly contribute. And I did. I was so angry at him. I was so resentful at him even asking me for support, to go into church ministry, like that. For even saying it out loud. I was about to learn something really big about myself and something even bigger about God…

I can do all things through God who gives me strength! All things, like anything He asks me to walk through. Anything set before me. I was never given a spirit of Fear. But of Power, Love and a Sound Mind.

“If the future is real, Johnny, you got to heal.”  The Killers

4 months later, after Sean’s delusion to pastor, we moved to Newport, Oregon for his new job. We had the most fantastic view of Yaquina Bay from our home. Just beautiful. The Oregon coast was my favorite place on earth, it still is. I feel like I am home when I am there.

But it wasn’t a healthy or happy home when we lived there. It was a horrible struggle trying to find a support community for recovery. We went to lots of churches to try and connect. I met an amazing woman of God, Barb, but Sean found zero support. We looked, we prayed and nothing. So, I started preaching at Sean, to “help” him stay sober. And what a “help” I was. I was so focused on him, once again, that I completely lost sight of me and my own behavior.

Sean found something besides support. He found drug connections and a girlfriend.

I told Sean he needed to make a choice, Lily and I or Drugs. I told him, “Sean, it will never be enough, a whole warehouse of this stuff won’t be enough.” That seemed to resonate with him and he said he just needed some sleep. I thought he had made the decision to stay. When Sean woke up, he left. Lily cried as he walked away, shutting the sliding glass door. Lily didn’t understand what was happening, but she felt it. This wasn’t daddy going to work. Daddy wasn’t coming back. I was numb. I couldn’t believe it.

The hours after Sean left were chaos in my mind. My mom was there and took Lily.

Two days after Sean left, the weather was really stormy. Barb convinced me to come over and visit her, I hadn’t wanted to leave the house. She took me to the room over her garage and told me to try and sleep. The spare bed was placed underneath a skylight and I lay there and watched the wind whip the trees. The rain pounding. My favorite weather at the ocean or anywhere, really. But today I didn’t care. It made me sick. It wasn’t comforting or beautiful to me anymore. It was menacing and ugly. Attacking, as I lay staring, frozen and numb. Sean had called me laughing as I drove to Barb’s house. He said how happy he was with his girlfriend and tried to get me to pronounce her name correctly, I tried and I couldn’t. He laughed louder. Not since I had been abused as a little kid did I remember a time in my life where I felt lower than I felt at that moment. As I lay under that skylight with the wind whistling around that upper room and the rain, beating the glass, I suddenly became aware that I was being sheltered in a storm. I was being protected, sheltered, comforted. And Sean didn’t have any idea where we were, and it was good. I slept deep, without a nightmare or a dream.

My friend, Barb, took Lily and I and loved us like she had an endless supply inside of her. Her daughters, who were about 3 and 5, loved Lily and played with her while my friend poured into me and prayed fervently over us. Barb had the pastor of her church call me and give me the most incredible, supernatural advice I have ever received in my life. He said, “I want you to put the Sean you married in your heart, visualize doing that. Now with Sean inside, I want you to build a wall around your heart as high and as thick as you can. Sean is going to try and destroy that wall.”  

I found myself two weeks later, talking to advocates and a judge about applying for a restraining order against, “It.” It, was Sean’s new name. Sean was now, unrecognizable to me, drugged up and with a girlfriend on the back of his motorcycle, who told our friends she would be raising Lily now. He had shown up at our house, high, wanting money and wanting to see Lily. I called the neighbor, who called the police. Sean and I fought in the house. The police showed up. The neighbor showed up. Sean left and I was advised to get a restraining order. Praise God Lily had been with my mother and didn’t have to witness the trauma of seeing her parents imploding in front of her. Praise God.

This pastor, that Barb had me speak with, and Barb herself, were real. These people were earnest, sincere and fighting for me because they loved Jesus. Even thinking about this now makes me cry. I had experienced a lot critical, mean spirited and fake Christians. People that made me afraid of church, angry at Sean’s pastoring suggestion; disgusted at the thought. I didn’t think about this at all, at the time. But God was changing my view of church with these experiences. With real Christian people. People give their lives to God because of people who walk into the pit to find them and walk them out again. But first sit in the pit with them and cry.

Sean destroyed that wall that I had been advised to establish. It was strong and solid. Sean worked hard to annilate it. It took time. But, when the wall was completely torn down, Sean stepped back inside of my heart, to claim it as his territory, once again.

God’s timing is ALWAYS completely perfect. God’s allowances are completely perfect.

Completely.

Perfect.

I don’t get it. Sometimes I feel like I hate it. It still doesn’t make sense. Suffering causes release. It’s Holy Ground. Shows me God is worthy. Nothing compares to Him as He turns brokenness to beauty. It seems like nonsense. illogical. Giving me what He wants me to have by allowing such devastation, such destruction, turning hearts inside out. Making all things new and making room for more. He invites me to keep asking for more.

“I can’t believe what God has done, through us He’s given life to one, but isn’t she lovely made from love.” – Stevie Wonder

I wrote on motel stationary. I wrote on napkins. Leaving him notes, pleading, nagging, begging him to stay alive, to change his mind. What if I never saw him again? What if Lily never knew him? What if she did? Who, what would he be? Sean left me when Lily was born; his soul left. The devil took him away and I felt him smile about it. Sean’s eyes were literally black, if he was in there somewhere, he had gone dormant. It felt like an alien inside of him, enjoying the good time of learning how to properly manipulate, a new vehicle. I also felt God, everywhere. He was seeing what I saw, and God and I made promises to each other over Lily and we kept them. I slept on the floor in front of her crib, God blessed and favored her; kept her safe.

I was manic, terrified. I imagine I aged a lot in Lily’s first 18 months. Sean used all kinds of whatever he could get his hands on, cocaine, pills… and drank anything with alcohol content. We were new parents, and I was devastated. What the hell was happening? He wouldn’t even look at her. He hated, and was afraid of, himself. He wanted to burn himself alive. He slept behind dumpsters in downtown Portland. I didn’t want to understand it, but I did. I did anything and everything to try and convince him, to heal, to live, to fight for us. I wanted him to get angry, rage at what was being stolen from us, feel something other than defeat. I wanted him to wake up. He had weekly sales trips across the Pacific Northwest. He would talk about slamming the truck into the side of a mountain. I would try to go on as many trips with him as I could, thinking if I were there, I could distract him. It worked. But I ended up being glad for his trips, glad for the break from him, and I imagine he was glad because I spoiled his drinking in hotels. Every day was a hard-fought and wretched battle. Every day that I woke up and he was still alive; I won. So much crying, so much paralyzing fear.

Somehow, the summer after her first birthday, he got clean and sober. I couldn’t believe it! The joy, the gratitude, and the elation… and then I got pissed.

He had single handedly destroyed Lily’s whole babyhood for the both of us; we missed the awesomeness and the closeness and the joy; together. After eight years of marriage, for us, a baby was like…well, there were no words for how we felt about having Lily. We were in awe at her sonograms. We cried at the sweet, precious, goodness of hearing her heartbeat. Just couldn’t wait for her to get here; we wanted her so badly. Now, he would never get that time back and neither would I.

He comes at me with, “I think God wants me to be a Pastor.” I said, “You’re having delusions of grandeur.” What I really wanted to say was, “@*&# you. You’ve just got to be @*&# joking with me.” So not only had he found Jesus, but he was also ready to lead the church!? Plus, what the hell was he throwing me into? I knew what churches did to pastor’s wives. The both of us had grown up in a crazy conservative church. They will vilify me. I don’t make strawberry preserves, sing from up front, or wear floral printed dresses!! I told him if he wanted to go back to school, then he should take a class on stereo installation because wiring and engineering were a hobby of his. I knew he was supposed to be a counselor of some kind when we got married. I could see it. We would talk about it. But God was not part of our marriage or lives, really. So, any kind of “calling,” was all sort of, vague and far away. Pastors and church were so fake and ridiculous. If they weren’t horrible and judge-y people, they were completely irrelevant and totally out of touch with living on planet earth. They knew nothing about ‘real’ life. I was absolutely not doing that.

I would not support Sean in this delusion of grandeur. 15 months later, I would be telling God that Lily deserved an awesome dad and I deserved an awesome husband, “…even if he’s a pastor, Lord. I will take him.” And I was completely open to that not being Sean and so was Sean.

“I must be an acrobat to talk like this and act like that…” -U2

 During our false start with church ministry, I wanted to bring blessing. Instead, I brought cursing. I hurt a lot of people. I wonder where I might still be doing that. I’m recognizing that for all the knowledge and experience God has blessed me with, I don’t have very much wisdom. The difference between the knowledge and the wisdom is so immense. I can know a lot of stuff. How I behave, how I interact with that information, is where I falter.

I kept asking God why He had given me all this knowledge about Himself, why reveal the truth about Grace and the New Covenant, and not give me a platform to give it away?

I thought I was supposed to help people, help our church out of legalism. It was the blind leading the blind. Going back to our original church, to minister in a formal capacity, was not what God wanted for us. I did not have peace about it. I felt like I had to back God into a corner to protect Him from the church. Meaning, Jesus wasn’t safe from them and the New Covenant wasn’t safe from them. I knew my twisted church culture. Grace and the New Covenant would get ripped apart by the church. I think that was a tell, tell sign they could get ripped apart for me; by the church. God was fine. I needed to be backed in a corner with Jesus protecting me. How impossibly arrogant had I become to think Sean and I were the first ones to ever be broken free of legalism and that I was totally healed? How impossibly arrogant to think I could battle the devil on my own. So stupid. I am so thankful that God is merciful. Because in my pious self-importance, I truly believed our church would care what we had to say about Jesus.

Teaching a children’s class, I asked the question, “What did Jesus do for us?” A girl, about 8 years old responded, “Jesus just gives us a little bit more of a chance.” I don’t remember what my response was, exactly. Something like “Sweetie, Jesus gave us everything.” But I knew right then, Sean and I couldn’t fix the thinking of this denomination and I hated being here. After church that day, we were driving home, I said, “A little bit more of a chance, Sean? How can we combat that, change that thinking?” We fought. I cried. Still, in my blind stubbornness, all I could think was, leaving the job wasn’t logical. Why did I embrace logic at the expense of Jesus?

God wanted me to take my time and be free, let the knowledge satiate the riot in my head and heart; until I understood it.  He wanted me to sit at His feet and let Him heal, bless and guide me into a new vibrant life. Let the greater revelation settle into my soul, completely. Totally setting me free. What a sweet God to do that for me. I wish, so much, I had known that is what He was trying to get across to me. I wish I could have let go of my own ego and just listened. I lost my serenity, my closeness with Him. I lost my God confidence. Mistrust in Him and fear of my thinking and my actions were now my new way of living.

When I think of this time, these two songs and phrases revolve and vacillate in my mind:  Tom Petty’s, The Waiting is the Hardest Part and The Doobie Brothers, It Keeps You Runnin.

“You take it on faith, you take it to the heart. The waiting is the hardest part.” “Where you gonna go, Girl where you gonna hide? I know what it means to hide your heart…it keeps you runnin.”  Hiding my heart from God kept me running, trying to fix it in every other way, rather than waiting on Him, was just too hard. I couldn’t partner with Him on anything. I felt like I didn’t know how to anymore. I ran like a racehorse, bent on climbing trees, this was the season of bruises.

I had valued my own ideology over the hearts God wanted to entrust me with. I was blind with hurt, blind with confusion. I wasn’t humbled at the job; I wasn’t humbled at the hearts. I wasn’t humbled under His hand. So, He let us have our way, slowly and agonizingly, until we remembered we are to become less so He can become more.

“He’s not a tame lion.” – C.S. Lewis 

“I feel like I am losing my salvation to follow Jesus,” Sean agonized. We had chosen to leave the denomination that we both grew up in, that our parents had grown up in, and that our grandparents and great grandparents had fervently believed in. God called Sean to be a pastor and then promptly changed Sean’s religion. What do you do when you’re called and then He says, ‘but not in this denomination though.’ And nobody really understands, least of all you. You are no longer legitimate to your family members, peers, mentors, and congregants. The church, that sent you to its college, you reject after a year. You go where God is now calling you to go. But, your church is horrified at you; heartbroken. The church that cared for you, loved you, taught you, comforted you, feels betrayed. After all they supported you in ways you’ll never know and encouraged you in so many ways that you do.  To them, you’ve lost your faith if you leave the denomination. You feel they might be right, but you can’t quit Jesus.

This was pain and confusion and we fought it out, wretchedly. We were so scared.

Lord, we are all your people. Why aren’t we united; likeminded? You are asking us to do this… why can’t you convict our church, that what we are doing is Your will?

He reminded me of the Cross. We must pick up our own and follow. No matter what.

He reminded me of the crusades. Same God. His Children killing one another for a title they already own. We hate each other over banners and titles we already own, because of lies, we believe, that were never true. Under Christ, there is no longer a “them” and “us.” There is only “We” collectively. Yet, we collectively, agree on so very little. What is the best way to serve God? How should church service should be organized? The fundamentally vital, How do I become who God created me to be? These are not questions we ask ourselves very often, mostly, they are answers we give on behalf of others. And we give them confidently!!  

Pride, arrogance and judgement are full on display as we rip each other apart in the name of Christianity and the non-believers turn away in disgust (who can blame them) with bumper stickers that say, “Jesus, please keep Your followers away from me.” Jesus wept.

“I feel like I am losing my salvation to follow Jesus.” So scary. Makes you physically sick, as all your friends and mentors from that denomination tell you, that you are wrong, and you have lost your way. As you are coming to believe something new. You just discovered the New Covenant! You just discovered Grace! You are moving into something deeper with God. They are scared for you. You are scared for yourself. They say you can’t hear God anymore. They tell you they regret not “working with you” on doctrine more. You are now branded a “False Prophet.” They tell you what God is saying to them and it’s totally different then what God is saying to you. What do you do? Are you hearing from the Lord? How can you tell? For us, it was all about scripture, but it was all about scripture for them, too. And thus we land in the thick, muck of Christianity’s ‘schisms.’ Same Jesus, same book (sometimes) totally different interpretations and people excommunicate you for it or at the very least tell you that you can’t hear the Spirit if it doesn’t agree with their comfort level. I suppose we are all guilty of this. If God wants unity what is really going on with this stuff? How is this bride ever going to get it together enough to take a shower, comb out her beautiful hair and get that dress on, when we can’t even collectively decide if our body needs a shower at all? Why can’t we stop ourselves from dancing with the devil over doctrine?

I have waxed on about how frustrated we were in Sidney, and that’s true. We were. But I did have my wonderful friend, Stacey. And Sean had some amazing, flashes of awareness about the impact he was making at his job. The culture in the shop where he worked, when he wasn’t out on the field, had radically and unbelievably changed. God had used Sean to bring some light to a super dark place. His countenance and honesty just affected his coworkers in such a positive way, whether they wanted to ‘lighten up’ or not. From what they listened to on the radio, to the way they spoke to each other, it was amazing. Within 2 months of him working there, things were different, and they continued to get better throughout Sean’s time there. He had conversations with his coworkers about his recovery from drugs and alcohol, about the pain of living, about why he chose God to do life with. What he shared was really beautiful and really real. So, because of that authenticity, his coworkers wanted to befriend him and then they asked for help, many times. For me, one of these times, that occurred right before we left, really breaks my heart as much as it makes me smile, because God invites us into the supernatural all the time. This time, when He invited me, I was spiritually awake to accept the invitation.

After Christmas, about 3 weeks before Sean’s last day in the oil fields, a co-worker called him to say he had relapsed over the weekend and could Sean please go to his house to remove and destroy the drugs and tools of administration he had. Now Sean had done this kind of thing before, but I had never performed a ‘search and destroy.’ Sean asked me to go with him and I agreed. Driving over there, I felt so blessed to get to partner with God and with Sean, in this way. And I felt like there were very few things in life, that were this important to be asked to do for another human being. I also felt really scared for Sean’s coworker. Associates who sell you drugs, the drugs and your own self-destructive beliefs are a mad concoction to try and break free from and most people can never do it. We have an enemy and he hates us. He is very good at hating us. Finding ways to destroy ourselves is something we spend lots of time, effort and money on trying to figure out.

We got there. Prayed over his house. Got rid of the stuff. Prayed over Sean’s friend. This day was a win. I was glad we got fired. I was thankful we were in Montana to do this. That God used us, allowed us to partner with Him, to do this. Trusting God that He knows what He is doing when everything in life feels, looks, and acts like it’s out of control; is so hard to do. But this day, I saw a reason for the chaos that for months had made no sense. Oh, God, You do know what You’re doing! I wish I always felt that way. Life would be so much sweeter. A recovery church in Alaska, huh? Yeah, in this season, that totally makes sense.

Neither victim, nor vampire, no matter who is around. When Jesus gets involved it’s not like that anymore. The pain and the anger and my victimization sort of melt into forgiveness and humility and gratitude and blessing. But I can’t skip the dealing with the pain, part. That takes time, lots of time, I have to allow myself to grieve and be angry and scream and cry bitterly and mourn. If I can be a little bit brave and let Him stay with me while I do those things, sometimes while I do them at Him, I will be free. He can take my anger at Him, my scorn, my tears and He will cry with me, and for me, when I can’t anymore. And then He will walk me through the door, to the new thing, when it’s time.

Sean says, “God won’t take away someone’s choice to abuse any more than He will take away our choice to love and do good things for Lily.” It’s not in His nature to steal choice or force choice. Sometimes all we can do about that is cry.

We sat at the kitchen table, the three of us, asking each other what we thought God was trying to tell us. We came up with different answers and a few of the same ones. After prayer and meditation, I felt like we just needed to be patience and trust His process. We would spin our wheels trying not to do that. Should we take an offer to go to Arizona? Should we go back to Portland? For what? Florida too, was, still a temptation. So silly to even think about going back after the struggle to stay and the ‘necessary roughness’ to get us to finally leave. Sean would say, “Man, I would rather be truck driving then be doing this.” The idea of long-haul trucking was really on his mind. It was an ‘out’ for Sean.  He could be doing something he wanted, that he was skilled at and something he actually cared about. I mean, at least he liked trucking. Rig work was a misery to him. But Lily and I would always remind him that God had put us here and this was the center of His will. Both of us knew though, that it was Sean, who had to go out there on the field, in the weather, with the crazy, ‘rough necks’ (a term for rig workers) every day. For lack of a better phrase, this season, totally sucked. We endured and stuck it out anyway. Finally, we were doing a hard thing, a thing we didn’t want to do that God was asking us to do. It made no sense; we didn’t see a benefit to anyone or to ourselves. This did not fit the ‘following God guidelines’ we had made. We did it anyway. It was weird. It didn’t feel like the struggle we had in Florida, trying so hard to stay there. It felt frustrating but peaceful. The world hadn’t stopped but we had. There was no, ‘try this’ and ‘do that’, clawing out a place for ourselves with our fingernails. It wasn’t desperate. It was just uncomfortable.

Sean got a call from a friend, and college classmate, who had moved to Alaska and started a Recovery church there. He told Sean he wanted us to come up and partner with he and his wife. He told Sean he would have never asked him while we were in Florida because he knew Sean was right where he wanted to be. I had an immediate aversion to the idea. I mean, Alaska?! You’ve just got to be kidding! Do you know how cold it is up there? Uuuggghhhh!!! We already hated the cold and what about the dog? She would be a warm, little hors d’oeuvre, for a wolverine or a bear. Not to mention the fact she would be miserable, if she didn’t freeze to death first. No. We can’t do that. That would never work. But the more I thought about it, the more I could see that it was pretty obvious God had brought us to Sidney, Montana, for some big reasons. If going to Alaska was on His agenda, the wishful Floridians that we were, He would have to toughen us up regarding the weather. He had done that in some pretty major ways. We would have to not like where we were and not have a lot of connections. Check. We would have to be aware that we weren’t in a place we were going to stay for jobs or family. Check Mate. Nothing else that we came up with felt right. I got angry. Of course, He wants us to go to Alaska. In anger, I prayed, and in compassion, He answered. “I’m not asking you to go to Alaska for others. Alaska is for you.” Alaska is for us? How? Why? We’ve never wanted to go there!!

 To give us our heart’s desire, God had to take away our fuzzy, warm, security blankets and comforts; like places we loved and people we loved. He wanted to get us willing to ask the question and ask for the desire to follow Him down the bottomless well.

This is the first post on my new blog. I’m just getting this new blog going, so stay tuned for more. Subscribe below to get notified when I post new updates.