There's no place like home!

"Welcome to Michigan!" the sign says. Welcome words to weary travelers coming home. No matter how fun the trip, no matter how welcome the change, or beautiful the weather there is nothing like coming home. The trees and landscape look familiar, and though our thermostat has gone from 70-something to 30-something we find something within ourselves settling.

We took the path of the monarchs and birds and headed to warmer climes for the coldest months of the year. We traded snow advisories for tornado warnings. Worth it? Every single bit. We found our favorite southern spot away from the crowds that prefer Mickey and friends and joined the white-haired folks who prefer their space and their gulf coast shrimp.

Now, I must say this. We do not vacation. We do life in a different location. If I'm going to vacation, I'm not cooking, cleaning, or doing laundry. Christian won't be on the phone and we would live a very carefree life. Though we are somewhere else and consider that a HUGE privilege we are just living--warmer.

One day when picking my kids up from swim class (that's what I call bringing the car down to get them after they have spent an afternoon body boarding oh-so-happily in the ocean) I realized that, though that may seem like a huge, unfair perk to some I consider it a well-deserved advantage for kids who for years have borne the stigmas and remarks from those who don't understand what homeschool means to us.

Folks tend to think that our decision to homeschool means that we think less of other choices. Nope. This was just something WE were called to do. So we did. And it has changed our lives and afforded us opportunities we never would've had. It also has isolated us and our kids in a million ways. To us, that's a fair price to pay for the advantages. For most, I guess it wouldn't be or they would do it, too!

So back to my story. We used our Christmas money and a certain amount of cleverness and blessings to procure a great price in a fantastic house from which we could watch pelicans play and dolphins swim and opened it up to folks we loved to join us. Our heart's desire was to show love as we had been loved and provide a refuge to whomever needed it. In return, we were richly blessed with time with people we love dearly.

In the place that has as many BBQ billboards with pictures of smiling pigs and words like "tasty" as it has confederate flags, life moves at a different pace. Literally. Folks drive 35 when they could be driving 55. And they make turns from complete stops. These are lessons in patience for those of us who would have taken that same turn at 40.

There are lessons in hospitality and service to be learned as well. Though it may take three times as long to have your food brought to you, it will most certainly be brought to you with a huge smile and a generous allowance of time instead of the "Are you done yet?" vibe one may get at a more northern eatery. Can I just tell you that grocery shopping where we were feels like a privilege instead of a chore? I literally went to say good-bye to my new friends at my southern grocery store--the place where they not only bag your groceries with a smile and a warm conversation, but they unload your cart for you onto the belt and insist on bringing it to your car for you.

We stayed in better shape and health there as we could take walks and get daily doses of vitamin D from our beloved sunshine. We enjoyed different foods and culture and scenery.

And yet, as we now view frozen white water covering the ground rather than falling asleep to the sound of the ocean lapping at the sand, our hearts feel grateful to know what is familiar. To know that the beds that we climb into tonight are our very own. To see what God has given us and enjoy what is good. And I can hardly wait to reacquaint myself with my piano and my cello and my kitties and my kitchen. Not everyone gets the chance to do what we have done. We know this very well. But, everyone does have a certain amount of control over their world and its design. It just may require some jumping out of the box.

Come on out! The water's fine.

 

Hello, Fear.

Hello, Fear.

Before you sit down there's something I need to explain.

...never again will I love you. My heart it refuses to be your home. No longer your prisoner, today I remember, apart from you is where I belong.

My mom used to call me a worry-wart. Such a silly name, really, for what I was feeling. I wasn't worried. I was scared silly. About everything. Pretty much Chicken Little. Give me a situation and I can come up with the worst possible scenario in two seconds flat and have lived it in my mind in ten.

I was the kid who was afraid of my dad dying every time he left the house to go to work, my family falling apart, and sharks in pools (even pools in the desert--I'm not kidding--there was even tumbleweed).

Irrational fears took up residence in my heart and mind, and I didn't know how else to live.

When I got older and married there were times when my husband would look at me like I was off my rocker if I told him one of my crazy imaginings. So, I pretty much didn't.

Then, my husband ingrained a phrase in my head that he heard growing up that repeats itself to this day.

Where do fear and doubt come from?

Well, I'll give you a big hint. They sure don't come from a loving God!

If you look around at all the messed up people you observe every day (definitely don't try using the mirror for this exercise--much too close for comfort) you will see fear played out in a number of ways. Insecurity is running rampant and at the base of it all. It makes folks act in ways they regret later. Fear of failure, fear of being alone, fear of death. The list could go on forever.

When my husband first started traveling regularly for work, I had this thing I did in my mind. Prepare yourself--my mind can be a scary place. I would envision him crashing in his plane, the airline contacting me as I saw news footage of the wreckage. I would mentally go through the process of every detail including the kids and I losing our home and grieving for years.

Why?? Well, because somewhere deep in me was this feeling that any good thing I had could never last. That there was always a big ol' size thirteen cowboy boot about to smack me on the head. (In case you didn't catch that, it's the proverbial shoe dropping). I think I thought that if I had already lived the whole thing out in my mind, it wouldn't be so surprising if/when it really happened.

I had grown up feeling like the kid whose life had been built on the sandy land. You know the one? Too near the shore. I never felt safe.
I am convinced that a major ingredient for a healthy person (especially of the female persuasion) is security. We need to know that we are going to be okay.

When our foundation isn't rock solid, we are a hot mess. Period.

You know what it all boils down to? Trust. Five little letters that shape our entire life. If we don't fully know the goodness of the hands that hold us, we will live a life of fear. Trust in a loving heavenly Daddy took me a loooong time to get a hold of. In fact, I didn't really trust Him as a Father because I didn't know what that looked like. It took me knowing the true love of my husband to know the love of God. But that's a whole 'nother entry for a whole 'nother day. Remind me.

Years of this stupid, fear-based thinking led me to a friend finally saying, "Wow, Alison! Just think, all that time you spent being afraid, you could've been praying." Oh. Yeah. Oops.

It was not my favorite lesson in life. In fact, it was the hardest one ever--to learn to trust. I had to learn it in human relationships which took lots and lots of practice and a lot of patience from my husband. I literally used to say to him in the early years when nothing was even wrong, "Just leave me now. I know you will someday, and I'm sure it will be even harder then so just get it over with." I'm pretty sure he thought he'd married a fruit loop, but after he gave me the you-must-be-crazy look, he reassured me and loved me anyway. For me, good things just felt, well, too good to be true.

Unfortunately, the only way I learned to trust my God was when He gently took me through the waters and I didn't drown. When He took me through the fire and I wasn't even burned. After the storm, I could look at Him and could say, "You really love me!" Did I enjoy the flood and the fire? Heck and no. Was it worth it? A million times, yes.

Now, because I trust His love for me even when things hurt like the dickens or when an enemy tries the old fear game in my head, I can know that no matter what happens, I am being held. There is a safe place in any storm.

I'm going to end with a story. Recently, while my husband was in Europe for work, two of my kids and I found ourselves in a dicey situation. We were staying on the Gulf of Mexico in a house built on stilts on a little, tiny finger of land between a huge bay and the Gulf. Gorgeous place. Until a tornado is coming. All of a sudden, a rainstorm turned into a tornado warning. And, I'm not talking about the kind of "maybe" tornado watch we get in Michigan. I'm talking--oh, that's what that test of the emergency broadcast system is for--tornado. The TV screen went to, "TORNADO WARNING! A tornado has been spotted in your area. Take cover immediately!"

Yeah. That's cute when there is no safe structure anywhere nearby! These people don't know what a basement is! Stilt homes do great for flooding (which we were thankful for since we had that, too) but collapse in hurricanes or tornadoes like toothpicks. I checked. A half of a mile from us is the end of the skinny, twenty mile long peninsula we are on. There is also a fort there that has survived 3 major wars. We grabbed the dog and our smart phones (to be smart, of course) and drove to the end to at least see what was coming, and if necessary force our way in to the fort to ride out the storm. We watched it come in. It was scary. We stayed and watched the sky as long as we could, but eventually night was falling and we knew we'd be sitting ducks after dark. We tried to get into the fort but they have this pesky little detail called a guard. So we headed back to our stilt house.

At the same time, I texted a friend who I knew would begin praying for us immediately and powerfully. This is what she told me. "I feel like God is saying, 'Don't just ask, but speak to the wind in My name.' We have the authority!"

I had just read that story not too many hours before about how Jesus was sleeping in the boat and the storm came and He stopped it with His words. I must admit I was really hoping the neighbors weren't watching as we stood on our back porch and commanded the storm to leave or be still in the name of Jesus. Would you believe me if I told you it did? Within minutes all we had was a rainstorm. Nine alerts turned to one--flash flooding. Exactly what this house could handle.

Hello, Fear. Before you sit down there's something I need to explain. (click for song)

 

Probably only a couple of you will care to watch this video. I took it on my phone while we were watching the possible tornadoes coming in. It's not too exciting, but for those who wondered...

 

 

 

 

 

Letting someone else talk

Not feeling the need for too many words today. A couple storms, emotional and otherwise,have left me a bit shell-shocked. Yet, I'm reminded that, as always, God is in control.

I read a post from a blog I'm subscribed to that sums up exactly how I feel. I'll post the link and let you read. Please be forewarned, her message is not typical. Talk about outside of the box! I don't agree with everything she says (it's definitely PG-13 and that will shock some), but her ability to be candid and frank about what a REAL relationship with God looks like instead of the dressed-up version we've all come to be so familiar with is a breath of fresh air to this girl.

As with all things, eat the meat and spit out the bones.

Hopefully, it resonates...

Jamie the very worst missionary...

 

Shhhh....

 Wait. Sit still. Be quiet. Not now. Not yet. 

Can you think of a time when you were little and were told any of those words? I sure can! Like in the back of the station wagon doing a squirmy dance 'cause I had to go potty. Or when I was a teenager and pretty sure I was old enough to go to that pool party with a boy I hardly knew. And guaranteed, there have been a million moments as an adult when I'm pretty sure I'm needing something and not getting the answer I want.

Unfortunately, I still strongly dislike those answers. I am a person that gets things done now! If I have work to do, I don't relax well until it's done and off the list. And I usually have ten lists going at a time of things to get done. The older I get, the harder it is to sit still. I used to be able to read for hours. Now, I feel so pressed to get up and get busy, I struggle to enjoy a book like I used to. Unless its two in the morning. Somehow, that makes perfect sense to my brain. I guess because that time was just going to be used for sleeping anyway and if I can't make up the sleep in the morning, there's always more coffee.
Even to sit through a movie nowadays leaves me antsy. I have to keep my hands busy with some mindless activity to stay awake through the whole thing! Ugh! I really don't like getting older! 

Yesterday was a beautiful day where I was. The sun was out. I had worked feverishly the day before to clean all day, organize a million of my details, do several loads of laundry, and I went to bed exhausted but pleased with myself. This left me with little to do yesterday but enjoy the day with my family. And enjoy, we did! I sat in the sun and talked on the phone with a friend for the better part of an hour, read for a while, played games in the sunshine with my kids and hubby, and watched a movie at night with my daughter. And as much as those were my favorite things, I felt so antsy inside. Like I was missing something. Because I wasn't busy enough.

I remember my dad being that way and it bugged me! He would stop over to my house full of little ones to spend a couple hours with me, and the whole time he was telling me how guilty he felt for not working--for wasting the day! "Dad," I would say, "You're spending time with me! It's a gift, not a waste." But something in him drove him to feel like he was failing if he wasn't working hard all the time. 

What is this? Is it not being content? I looked up being content in the Bible this morning and found several passages telling us to be content where we are. They were so good, but discontent is not really what I was feeling.

I think it's more like this bad habit I've created for myself of always looking for the next thing, and a bad case of the should'ves. Have you noticed that when we are eating we are thinking about how good the next bite will taste instead of enjoying the one we are currently chewing? I can be walking on the beach, happy as can be in the sunshine, thinking about a different fun thing I want to do. What is that?

Strangely enough, having once been a little girl who desperately needed security, I have become a woman who loves change. Perhaps because of how much we have traveled, I don't sit still in one location very well. I need to see new things and try new things and feel adventurous. That's a good thing, right? It sure has helped me accept a lifestyle in which there has been lots of change. As my husband gets called into different jobs in which he travels the world, and not much remains constant from year to year, I have had to learn adjust. 

Regarding the should'ves, perhaps because of years of insecurity I feel like I constantly am being evaluated for my performance. Mostly by me and in my own head. Is there ever a way to be enough despite our insecurities? I am convinced that the main reasons people behave badly are deeply rooted in insecurity.

Friends don't let friends "should" all over themselves.

I read this recently and it cracked me up. And made me think. We are so quick to reassure our friends and loved ones that they are enough, yet we are so hard on ourselves. It comes down to this. Every person has a purpose. It's bigger than the laundry that is waiting for me or the errands I need to run. I'm talking about why I am where I am on this planet right now. Each path is different. For me to look at my path and expect it to be yours is wrong. In fact, I probably shouldn't even be looking at your path!
Minding our own business--I'm a huge fan!
If I'm being obedient--for me that is daily asking my God to show me exactly where He wants me--and listening carefully for His direction, I can be content and it should be enough. No matter what society is telling me about what I should be doing, or even friends with the best of intentions, I am responsible to only One.

So, can I be still? When is the last time I was? I have a friend who has been going through some emotional turmoil lately. I have encouraged her to spend some time alone--well, alone as in just her and God. It is vital in this world of constant noise, to create a space outside the din to breathe and be and make the air quiet enough to actually be able to hear a still, small voice that says "You are enough."

So, listen for it. Carve some minutes away to spend time with the One Who sees you all the way to the ugly and still wants more. Who has no standard of measurement. Who finds you beautiful and worthy of all He has to offer. Breathe.

One year post

Today is the one year anniversary of this little blog of mine. It leaves me reflective. Should I call it, wrap this little baby up and be grateful for all it meant to me and hopefully a few others, or keep plugging away as God sends the words...? 

Well, we shall see. 

Today, as I cleaned and scrubbed the house, I am reminded that it is good sometimes to take a step back and look at what needs to be freshened up and aired out. So, that's what I'm doing. My readers and comments are down a bit, and while that's fine, it makes me wonder if I've accomplished what I needed to. 

We had the exciting days of the no-complaining bracelets, the days where we all were showing our faith and  God was rewarding that by sticking money all over our walls (!), and the biggest blessing of all, those who were touched by my journey with my dad.

Thousands upon thousands of times, you all have clicked and read and hopefully, God showed you a little bit more of Himself. That is my heart's cry. That all who read draw closer to His heart.

What do you think? If there is a post that mattered to you, I'd love to hear about it. You can share a link on Facebook (click the little 'F' under a post), you can comment, (either here or on Facebook), or whatever other way you have to communicate with me. 

For now, I'll continue to wait and see if God has more for me to say. From the bottom of my heart, I thank you all so far for letting me know this has mattered.