Taking my writing more seriously has been exciting and scary at the same time. I've woke up with panics over words like platform and book proposal. Yuck.
It's funny how similar those two emotions are, fear and excitement. Because for every fearful climb of the roller coaster, there is also the exuberant slide down.
So here's something fun that has come of this writing adventure I'm on, I've got a website.
James gave me some input here and there, but for the most part, I designed it myself using SquareSpace. If you need to build a website, I would highly recommend it. I even found a coupon, because I'm a coupon loving home school mom.
Please check out my new website www.jenniferllane.com, and give me some feedback. I'd love to know if there is something I could add to make it better.
Also do me an even bigger favor and subscribe to my blog, and you will receive an email whenever I post something new.
Thank you, friends!
This song would be funny if it weren't so true. He nailed it. If you haven't noticed yet, I have an intense love for artsy, weird music.
James just got back from South Sudan on Saturday. I force myself not to worry about him when he is in Africa. I don't want to dishonor God by not believing God is in control of that situation. But honestly, the Holy Spirit makes it easy. Every trip, I have had a peace come over me, and I just know that it is ok.
South Sudan is an important country in Africa to our family. We have a South Sudanese congregation at Citychurch, and James's previous trip has endeared us to that struggling, new country. We pay attention to any news we come across about South Sudan.
One thing that popped up on my FaceBook feed a few months ago was an article posted by Food for the Hungry about the food shortage in South Sudan. Because of all the tribal fighting that went on for the last year, many farmers were displaced and unable to plant their crops. Hundreds of thousands of people are still displaced in UN camps, the city of Juba, or have fled to neighboring countries.
As James was packing for this trip, I kept bringing up these facts and encouraging him to pack more snacks and Cliff bars. I was really worried that he was going to go hungry, like really, really go hungry.
The funny thing is that every single time I got to talk to him on the phone while he was in South Sudan, he was complaining about having to eat too much. I'm not joking. It was a constant stream of meals. One day they went to visit some families in their homes, and he had to eat about 5 dinners.
James was so humbled by this experience. The country is experiencing a food shortage. The people of South Sudan were not getting enough to eat, but they were so intent on making sure their visitors had an abundant meal. The village women all cooked elaborate meals in their outdoor kitchens. The amount of work and monetary sacrifice that went into each of those 5 meals was astonishing.
Shannon Abook lives at the top of Dinka Mountain. They went to visit her husband, but when he wasn't home she brought out cold waters and Cokes for the guys to drink.
Anykol is preparing greens for dinner.
This was Sunday dinner at Simon's home.
This was the farewell meal for the guys. The men butchered the goat and the women prepared food all day to provide this feast as a celebration of sending their visitors back home.
Their were times when James, Donnie, and Lual were taken out to eat. Their restaurants are not as commercial or established as we are use to, but there are restaurants. Our Americans had taken lots of money with them for the trip, but in several instances, one of the South Sudanese men would stand firm that they were paying for the meal. They would lay on the generosity thick in those instances, ordering extra food when a dish would come out differently than the Americans had hoped when they ordered. They would insist on ordering extra items with the meal, like hot teas. They wanted to make sure that their visitors had a wonderful meal, no matter the cost.
These meals made a huge impact on James.
Alueo treated the guys to this South Sudanese restaurant. They ate dried fish, goat, soup, and injera bread.
I just finished reading a book called Neighbors and Wise Men by Tony Kriz. In this book, there is a chapter about this same sort of experience that Tony has as a missionary in Albania. Here is a short excerpt from his book.
"Occasionally I would get a chance to travel to an Albanian village. I am not talking about an outlying city, or even a small town. These were mountainside villages, consisting of only a few hovels....
We would soon find ourselves sitting in a small living space, next to a freshly stoked fire. These highlanders were simple folk but full of honor. Within minutes I had a warm cup of mountain tea in my cold hands. Our business rarely lasted more than a day, and though we were strangers, we were always offered a warm bed. I was treated like a long-lost relative.
Dinner was always, always the best they had to offer. Each time I insisted that they not make a fuss, but there was no discussion to be had. It was easy to imagine that a month's resources were spent on a single meal.
My definition of hospitality will never be the same.
True hospitality pushes past what we can afford to give up and makes deposits in accounts we can never lose."
I'm forever affected by this new definition of hospitality. "True hospitality pushes past what we can afford to give up and makes deposits in accounts we can never lose." That is truly profound.
While James was in Africa last week, I had two opportunities to bless someone monetarily. It was clear God had placed these circumstances into my path, and I knew He was challenging me to give. One of these individuals was a friend and the other individual was a stranger. Looking back on these two times of giving, it is odd that I feel just as good about giving to that stranger as I do about giving to my good friend.
My hope is that I made deposits in that account I can never lose.
I may never have the opportunity to lavish a month's resources on a stranger, but I know every chance I get to show kindness to friends or strangers will be changed after learning this new definition of true hospitality.
"Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the inheritance as your reward. You are serving the Lord Christ." Colossians 3:23-24 ESV
As usual, I've got a song to share. That's what's up.
*** Here is one last blog post that I wrote for the IF:Amarillo blog. It's amazing to look back at these words I wrote after our first IF:Amarillo meeting and see that God accomplished exactly what we asked Him to do. We did have 500 women and God provided what we needed monetarily, right down to the penny. God is so, so faithful.
Last year I hosted an IF:gathering at my church Citychurch. I really wanted to go to Austin for the first IF:gathering, but I couldn’t logistically do that (i.e. no money for that in our budget.) On top of that, the tickets sold out in a matter of minutes (like less than an hour.) So when Jen Hatmaker posted her blog about IF:local, I was on it. I wanted there to be an IF:local in my city. So I decided I would host one. I put all the details together and kept it simple. I was a IF:one-man-band or planning, implementing, conference hosting woman. I had 12 ladies attend, and it was wonderful. But, here’s the thing. It was small.
A few months ago, I went to a meeting with 5 other ladies. These ladies were just ... I can’t even put words to it. They were IF ladies. I was so thrilled to be among them. We are planning this years IF:Gathering for Amarillo, and we are thinking BIG because God thinks BIG. God invented big.
On the way home from that first meeting, I was thinking about what we had just agreed to. We had decided on budget twice the size of a decent car loan and we had committed to hosting women by the hundreds. My brain doesn’t go to those kind of numbers on it’s own. To my detriment, I think in terms of what I can handle. How much can I bite off? What can I do?
Let me tell you that I’m flat, flat wrong.
I’ve got the wrong pronoun in those sentences. How different is the question when I replace I with He (as in the I Am, He?) How much can He bite off? Um. He baked that cookie. How much can He do? Well. He can, and He does.
I’m so excited to see what God does. I already know what I can do. Just read John 15:5, and it will tell you the harsh truth of “apart from me you can do nothing.” I get excited when I hear God is moving. I want to watch, but not only watch. I want to jump in. If God is moving, I want to grab on. Just like a toddler might “help” his dad move furniture. I want to grab a corner and “help.”
Do you get excited about God moving? If you do, then join in. Jump up and grab on. God isn’t going to put the load on you. He’s doing all the heavy lifting, but He lets us be a part of it. He’s that good and loving Father who knowingly looks down, and expresses His pride in our willingness to help and our willingness to go where He is going.
Come be a part of our BIG IF:Amarillo Gathering. If you haven’t registered, just go do it right now.
“I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.” John 15:5 ESV
*Today I met for brunch with my IF:Amarillo ladies. I wanted to post a couple blogs that I wrote for the IF:Amarillo blog here on my personal blog. Here's one I wrote about saying "yes" to God's call.
This might not be good grammar, but try imagining it in a 90’s hip-hop, wave your hands in the air, voice. “The yes don’t stop, stop.” That works, doesn’t it. Sorry. I’ll get serious now.
In February of 2013, I felt God calling my family to international adoption from Africa. My husband and I spent the next several months figuring out “What do we do now?” and “What does this mean for our family?” One of the first things I read about was cocooning. The idea is that you bring your child home, and they are new to the country, new to family life, new to you, ect. Basically everything is new, and you want to kind of huddle down at home and let them bond with you before you take them out into the world which has even more newness. I was excited when I read about cocooning. I couldn’t wait for this to happen. Why? Because I am a yes-er. Ask me, I’m probably going to say yes. I will admit that I run myself ragged. I’m a people pleaser, and it’s a struggle. I loved the idea of having such a deep and wonderful reason to say “No, I’ve got to be cocooned at home.”
We applied for our adoption in March of 2013, and I fully expected we would have our little boy within 18 months. So then I started to be scared of loosing my “yes.” I’ve got a full on “yes” addiction. Two things, I was naive about international adoption and Ethiopian adoptions have slowed and are continuing to slow.
So with my fear of losing my “yes” (The same “yes” I didn’t even want in February.) I thought I better say “yes” to EVERYTHING now because in a few months, I’ll be saying “no” to everything. So I did. I taught home school co-op classes, I led women’s Bible study in my home, I rode my bike in the neighborhood delivering lunches, I planned classes for Citychurch moms, I went to Ethiopia. I could go on because I was high on “yes” saying. My only criteria was, would this advance the kingdom of God at all, even an inch, then “Yes! I’ll do it.”
(Disclaimer here: This isn’t a blog post about priorities of the Christian woman or mother. There are plenty of books and blogs addressing that, and it an important issue that you should wrestle with and lean to God to lead you in the right direction.)
So now it has been almost two years since God gave me that call to adopt from Africa, and I am still waiting on my little boy. We spent the last year on the waiting list and the 10 months prior that completing the home study and paperwork required for our dossier.
Obviously I am still saying “yes” because here I am on the leadership team for IF:Amarillo. But God is also showing me something through this team.
My new friend Kaylie Hodges is also on the IF:Amarillo Leadership team. The first meeting I had to discuss planning this IF:Gathering, she had only been home two weeks from a trip to Uganda to adopt not one little boy, but two little Ugandan boys. She was in the trenches of cocooning. Nevertheless, she was at the meeting saying “yes.”
I was just meeting Kaylie for the first time. So I couldn’t say, “Are you sure you want to do this? Don’t you need to go home and cuddle your boys?”
I’m pretty embarrassed to lay my thoughts out here like this, but that was what I was thinking.
I even thought, “She’s going to have her hands full and need to step down.”
That thought is even more embarrassing!
It has been three months since that first meeting. I want to brag on Kaylie. She’s been one of the strongest links in our team. She’s been hard at work getting the word out about IF, managing IF:Amarillo’s FaceBook, going on Grace Radio, getting this blog started, visiting churches. But even more than the physically working. She’s been spiritually working. She’s never wavered in her faith that God was calling us to plan this event and that He was going to lead us and provide. She’s also been praying over the names of the women who have registered to attend this event. If you’ve registered, Kaylie has been praying for you. That just makes me mushy inside. I love it.
I’ve still got a wait ahead of me before I will have my little Ethiopian boy to snuggle and love on, but God is teaching me that when that time comes, He is still going to need my “yes.”
The other thing I have learned looking back at all my “yeses,” is that the end product of every single one of those decisions was a big blessing to me. I grew and learned and made friends every time I stepped out and did something for God’s Kingdom. It wasn’t something that I gave God. It always turned out to be something that God gave me.
Is there something that you feel God is asking you to do? If God is asking, say “yes.” I promise you will be blessed.
“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied. Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.” Matthew 5:6-8 ESV
Today is James's last full day in South Sudan. I'm so happy, so ecstatic to know I will have him home soon. Towards the end of his mission trips, I always begin counting it down, not in days, but in how many more nights do I have to sleep without him here. Today I only have two more Jamesless nights left.
I have two things bouncing around in my head right and I feel like they are smushing my precious brain membranes. One thing is Africa, the things James has told me about his trip and remembering details of my trip to Ethiopia last summer. The other thing is an essay I am writing.
I've agreed to do something that is exciting and a little bit scary. I've registered to attend a Christian writer's conference in April. I have butterflies even as I admit to you that I am going. When I registered for the conference, there was a little box that said "essay contest" and I checked yes. So now I feel like a student again working on an important class project. I get even more butterflies just thinking about my little document sitting on my desktop. I want it to be good. I'm terrified to let that list of respectable authors who are the judges read something I've written. But also, since I'm a type A first born, I want to win the contest. But I also want to wipe off my sweaty hands, slide that document into my virtual trash can icon and just not do it.
My essay is about church unity, because that's an easy nut to crack, right?
So I have these Africa stories and church unity crashing around my little noggin and it's terrifying.
I just thought I'd share. The end. Goodbye.
Not really. I'll elaborate.
Yesterday James and I talked a little about an awful thing that is still happening in South Sudan. It is the practice of men taking more than one wife. He has regularly encountered men on his trip that profess to be Christian that have multiple wives.
It is more than disconcerning. Because this is how I think, I immediately try to put myself mentally in the place of one of those wives. Heartbreak. I imagine physically straining work of caring for my children with a detached segment of a husband. Just plan heartbreak.
James had called me while I was at the grocery store. Yesterday I was standing in the middle of the can soup isle wondering if I could raise an old fashioned Frankenstein-style mob, check our pitchforks because those don't fit in our carry-ons, and fill an airplane to fly over there and do something.
I pulled myself back to reality and asked James questions that I knew he couldn't answer. "What do we do about that?" "How can we make them know that is wrong?" "What do those men do to fix it because they can't just pick a family to keep?" "How do we teach the children not to grow up and do that?"
He feeds me a lot of I-don't-knows and reassures me that the director of the orphanage and school is doing his best to teach the boys not to hope for multiple wives or plan to marry more than one woman.
My mental list of thank yous to God for being born in the time and country I was born in grows increasingly longer.
How do I open a document and write about church unity after hearing about these injustices?
God, please put an end to these chains of sin that bind your people and stop these generational sins that hurt your women. Amen.
With James in Africa, I've been thinking about my week in Ethiopia. While I was there, I felt like everyone was segmented into three groups of people, Muslims, Orthodox Christians, and Protestant Christians. In America, we are just heathens and Christians. Why was it different there? I don't think I met anyone who was just a good old fashioned heathen while I was there. It felt precarious.
I immediately joined team Protestant Christian in my head. It's obvious the Muslims were not on my team, but what about those Orthodox Christians? I've never encountered them before. This was a new question to me. Where they on my team?
I'm still wrestling with this one. It's not where my flesh wants to go, but I feel like the Holy Spirit is pushing me to team unity. At least these questions are slightly easier than that multiple wives question.
I like everything neat, organized, boxed up, and clear. Jimmy crickets. Why can't everything about God be neat, organized, boxed up, and clear?
While I was in Ethiopia I listened to a few sermons by Matt Chandler at the Village church. During a sermon titled "Eccentric and Faithful," Matt said something that I connected so so deeply that I grabbed my journal and wrote down a quote. Here it is.
"Surely you had to know that the Word of God was going to meet you some place that made you uncomfortable. If it didn't, it's not the Bible and He's not God. He's the god of your imagination, the one who makes everything like you feel comfortable. It's just not the God of the Bible. Is this messy and dangerous? --- Like life itself." - Matt Chandler
I'm wrestling with my God. I don't want an imaginary god. I want the real, I Am God. I want Him even if His work is messy. Even if His work is dangerous. Especially when He makes me feel uncomfortable.
Change never comes out of a place of comfort. And change always needed in this world and in me as I strive to be more like Him. He is not messy. He is unchanging.
As much as I would like to think that I have all my thoughts, feelings, and other parts of my self neatly wrapped up and contained in the right places and boxes, the truth is I don't. God isn't the mess. I am.
"Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.
If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given him. But let him ask in faith, with no doubting, for the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea that is driven and tossed by the wind. For that person must not suppose that he will receive anything from the Lord; he is a double-minded man, unstable in all his ways.
Let the lowly brother boast in his exaltation, and the rich in his humiliation, because like a flower of the grass he will pass away. For the sun rises with its scorching heat and withers the grass; its flower falls, and its beauty perishes. So also will the rich man fade away in the midst of his pursuits.
Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him. Let no one say when he is tempted, 'I am being tempted by God,' for God cannot be tempted with evil, and he himself tempts no one. But each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire. Then desire when it has conceived gives birth to sin, and sin when it is fully grown brings forth death.
Do not be deceived, my beloved brothers. Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change. Of his own will he brought us forth by the word of truth, that we should be a kind of firstfruits of his creatures." James 1:2-18 ESV
Thanks for sticking with me even though my thoughts are about as clear as this song and the singing of Alec Ounsworth.
I love comedy. I love laughing. This is the thing about me that my brother Jeffrey and I bonded on most often. Jeffrey loved to laugh too. Like me, he could find humor in almost everything and really nothing was to sacred to escape laughter and jokes. My poor mother became the punchline more than once as we laughed at her doll collection or her Christian movies she bought over the phone. She knew we loved her, but I know she hated when we would start laughing at things she took seriously.
There aren't a lot of things that I got in trouble for growing up, but I do remember getting in trouble for laughing too much multiple times. Jeffrey and I had this in common.
Jeffrey was easily the funniest one in our family. Me and my K-Mart vest
before work, and Jeffrey eating some clearly needed sugar.
This is one of my favorite pictures of Jeffrey because we
laughed and laughed about our perfect caption "bros before hose."
It has been over 4 years since Jeffrey committed suicide, and nothing reminds me of Jeffrey more than comedy.
Last night was the 40th anniversary special for Saturday Night Live. I couldn't help but think of Jeffrey all night. There were so many characters that Jeffrey worked hard to impersonate. He could do a great Adam Sandler voice, and he would often burst into "Sloppy Joe, slop, sloppy Joe" or "Let me water your plants."
He loved Will Ferrell too, and we would regularly reference the dysfunctional family dinner when we were eating together, taking turns yelling, "I drive a Dodge Stratus!"
But both of us agreed the best ever was Chris Farley. He was our favorite. There wasn't a skit or movie that Chris Farley had been a part of that we didn't know front and back. Jeffrey even owned and loved Farley's rarely remembered film Almost Heros.
Lines from Tommy Boy and Black Sheep became everyday slang at our house. And Chris Farley's character on SNL, Matt the Motivational Speaker was the best. "In a van down by the river" and "I'm bunking with you guys" was constantly discussed and imitated.
Which brings me to my teary moment last night. Chris Farley passed away in 1997, the year I officially left home and married James. Melissa McCarthy did a beautiful job impersonating Matt the Motivational speaker last night. It was a beautiful tribute.
As everyone remembered the big guy who made so many happy with laughter, I couldn't help but miss my brother.
Here he is improv impersonating Chris Farley's Tommy Boy song "Fat guy with a little coat" swimming pool style.
I know if he were still alive, I would have been calling or messaging him to ask if he was watching. We would have recapped all the funny parts as soon as we talked again. Most of our conversations began with a quick recap of all the funny things we had seen lately, what movies had we seen, what was funny on SNL or Conan, or what tv shows did we think were funny lately.
Losing Jeffrey to suicide makes things more complicated than a usual loss. There are three emotions that I can't let go of completely and probably never will. These are regret or guilt, anger, and lack of closure or goodbye.
Anytime I think of Jeffrey one or all of these emotions are present. Last night it was the loss without a goodbye that was bothering me again.
The only thing that helps me get through these moments of grief is remembering that Jeffrey is with Jesus now. The other thing that helps is remembering that Jesus knows how I feel.
Whenever I was young, I remember joking (I'm telling you I'm always joking) about how you can easily memorize the shortest verse in the Bible and there's another memory verse done that you can brag about. That verse is "Jesus wept" found in John 11:35. As a teen, that verse was anecdotal and shallowly sweet, but that passage has come to be a deep comfort to me after losing Jeffrey.
The story is a recounting of the death of Jesus's close friend Lazarus. After studying the story, I began to realize all the reasons Jesus wept. He did not weep for Lazarus's death because if we read the story, Lazarus is raised from the dead and brought back to life.
My brother Jeffrey has also been raised and brought back to life with Jesus.
I believe the main reason Jesus was weeping was out of compassion for Lazarus's sisters Mary and Martha. They had just lost their brother Lazarus and spent 4 days morning the loss. It is obvious to me that Jesus has compassion at the loss of my brother, but Jesus's tears are a physical reminder of that fact. Jesus sees my loss and my grief and he responds to it.
The other reason that I believe Jesus was weeping was that, in that moment, he longed to spend time with his friend Lazarus again. He had not said goodbye to Lazarus, and he felt loss. When I long to spend time with my brother and morn my lack of goodbye, Jesus knows how that feels. Jesus has wept those tears.
I praise God that I have a savior that understands my hurts. I praise God that I have a savior that understood Jeffrey's hurts. He loved and understood Jeffrey better than I ever could. He has given Jeffrey forgiveness, love, compassion, and a new life.
"Now Jesus had not yet come into the village, but was still in the place where Martha met Him. Then the Jews who were with her in the house, and consoling her, when they saw that Mary got up quickly and went out, they followed her, supposing that she was going to the tomb to weep there. Therefore, when Mary came where Jesus was, she saw Him, and fell at His feet, saying to Him, 'Lord, if You had been here, my brother would not have died.' When Jesus therefore saw her weeping, and the Jews who came with her also weeping, He was deeply moved in spirit and was troubled, and said, 'Where have you laid him?' They said to Him, 'Lord, come and see.' Jesus wept. So the Jews were saying, 'See how He loved him!' But some of them said, 'Could not this man, who opened the eyes of the blind man, have kept this man also from dying?'" John 11:30-37 NASB, emphasis added
Anytime someone else does something for God, I get these crazy ideas that it was easy for them. I imagine that they are pulling off ministry with grace and composure.
Those are wacky thoughts. No one serves God without disruption to their comfort and normal life.
So if anyone who attended IF:Amarillo last week has grandeur ideas of how wonderfully I pulled off being on the leadership team or contributing to the event, let me pull back the curtains.
All during IF:Amarillo, James kept asking me when the IF-ter shock would start and joking that he would miss the (after IF) IF-ter shock because he would be in Africa.
Instead of making this a 20 page paper on my shortcomings (because I could go on and on,) I'll make each flaw a bullet point.
My goal here is to show you that it isn't perfect so that you can see that you are capable of being to used by God, even if you don't think so. All He needs from you is willingness and flexibility. Honestly those two things are all you need. He can't use someone who already has their own plan.
I messed up several times at my impromptu job of running the computer at IF:Amarillo. My biggest mistake was skipping a whole piece of session 3. We missed out on seeing a table talk on racial reconciliation that was so amazing. I am still kicking myself. I am hoping that IF will put this part of the gathering online on Vimeo because it sets up this amazing bridge building guide. Here is the blog about it.
Sunday morning at Citychurch, I knew the church would be praying for my husband James before his mission trip. I really wanted to be there. I came into the service, and James brought me Gabriel, our 4 year old, and said, "He's got a fever." He did. His nose was running and he was coughing. I didn't want to leave because I wanted to be there to pray for James. At some point Gabe threw up on me. I went and cleaned us up in the bathroom and came back in just in time to pray for the mission trip. Clearly the IF-ter shock was causing some eruptions.
James was leaving for a mission trip to South Sudan on the Monday after IF. My whole Sunday was spent shopping for and packing bags of supplies for the trip. I felt like a zombie for most of it. Somehow we got it all packed.
We finally got home from packing supplies, and started packing James's personal bags at dinnertime Sunday night. (Can anyone say takeout.) He needed a few things washed, and wouldn't you know it, our washer dies. James looked at it for a long time. He concluded that the pump had given out. James's mom had to come pick up his last minute laundry and wash it at her house.
On ALL of James's other trips to Africa, I've cooked him a special meal and dessert before he left for his trip. This trip he got Wienerschnitzel.
Monday was spent cleaning my house, because it was clear that the quakes of IF had shown to be very destructive at the Lane home. Home schooling was put on hold until we had a clean spot to learn.
I had someone come look at our washer, and he also concluded the pump was out. After seeing the price tag on the pump, we decided to buy a new washer.
I've had my new washer for 3 days, but I am not anywhere close to being caught up on laundry. I finally was the recipient of the cold we've been passing around. James had it, then Andrew, then Gabe (Sunday morning), then Lucy on Thursday, and now me.
I've cooked my kids a real meal exactly zero times in the last week. I did cook for Lual's wife Diana on Friday for lunch. We are going to eat those leftovers now and hope that counts as cooking for my kids.
So those were my after-IF, IF-ter moments, but my biggest fail moment came before IF:Amarillo even started. I had this crazy idea that we could offer childcare to the single women and CityKid moms that are involved with the kids that Citychurch ministers to. I made fliers and told lots of women to just let me know if they wanted childcare, and Citychurch would provide it. I honestly was doing this all rogue. I didn't have a childcare team waiting in the wings to watch kids if moms ended up responding to my invitation. I had talked to one willing dad, but as time passed, and I didn't have really any response from moms, I thought my whole idea was going to fizzle out.
Tuesday night I got a phone call from a mom of some of our CityKids. She was calling me to sign her kids up for childcare. I politely told her she was all set and wrote down her kids' names and ages, but as I hung up the phone, I was like, "Oh no! Now I gotta make sure this happens."
Instead of thinking clearly or even praying (um duh,) I went into a 24 hour melt down mode and tried to convince myself that I really should be babysitting during IF instead of attending. (I now know that I needed to be a IF. It ended up running the computer the whole weekend.)
Once I calmed down and stopped being mad a God for me not having a solid plan in place, I realized that He was in control. He wanted it to happen to remind me that I wasn't in control, that I needed to be depending on Him, and that this was His ministry to women.
God provided an excellent plan for babysitting, Lucy and her responsible friend Madison (who has baby twin sisters so clearly she can handle anything.) They ended up watching 10 different kids over the two days of IF:Amarillo.
So if I haven't scared you off from ever attempting ministry, at least I've let you see some of the un-pretty parts of giving a little of your life to serve God. I know every single one of the ladies who stepped up to host an IF:Local in Amarillo and all over the world has similar stories of mistakes and messiness brought into their lives because they agreed to serve.
Please know that it is worth it. I know every bit of messy houses, takeout food, melt downs that led to greater dependance on God, and the tired, tired, sleepiness for days was worth it. I know because I saw God move in women's hearts. I saw God move in my city. And I felt God move in my own life.
Listen to this song from my favorite whistling rocker. How perfect is it that he talks about doing laundry in a song about taking courage?
