flood warning

This may be bad.

This may be really, really bad.

But I've warned you now, and that's all I can do.

Today, this sucks. It really does.

I don't even like that term, but I can't work my way around it. "This stinks" just isn't cutting it today. Sorry.

I'm alone. And I'm crying. And I can't stop. 

I cry at the hard things. I cry at the sweet things. I cry because I hate it. And I cry because I would not change it. I cry because I miss Stephen. I cry because he is so worth missing. I cry because I am grateful that I miss him as much as I do. I cry because he feels the same way. I cry because the Lord is near. I cry because He keeps reminding me that I don't have to be good at this. I cry because He alone knows just how bad I am at it. I cry because I know it will get better with time. I cry because the thought of the time it will take is overwhelming. I cry because I feel like I should feel like I'm single again. I cry because that's about the last way I feel. I cry because I wish I knew how to handle social settings or meeting new people well. I cry because I almost dread it some days. 

The trigger.

I guess the trigger was a text from Stephen today saying he had arrived at his overseas destination. Up until now he was training in the same time zone. If you have spent any time with me in the evenings over the last two months, you know that writing is not my typical 9pm activity. I would have been parting ways with you soon to talk to Stephen. But now he has (jet-lag permitting) been sleeping for several hours, and his will not be the last voice I hear tonight. Not live anyway. 

And then I think about the last person I will have talked to today: the cashier at Kroger. And I cry some more.

Some days solitude is a double-edged sword. Today is one of those. I hate being alone and yet cannot imagine interacting with anyone else right now. I feel like I putter around the house, doing a little bit of everything, but not completing anything. Not that I don't have plenty to do. 

If you have yet to receive a wedding gift thank you, rest assured, they are in the works. I have another writing job that I am excited to take on between now and Thanksgiving. I have been compiling all my poetry from the last decade. 

I have enjoyed time with friends this month. My old small group got away to the lake one weekend. 

We threw a baby shower for Darrah yesterday. 

And Juliet keeps me great company. 

Hanging out with my new friend, Cat, who nannies and whose husband is also away for a year, has been a huge highlight in these few weeks. 

It's not boredom. I think I stay busy enough. It's just hard.

As I was thinking through an upcoming church social earlier this evening, I came to realize why I feel so out of place all of a sudden, especially at church. It has nothing to do with other people, though perhaps their love for both of us brings the emotions to the surface. It has more to do with the fact that Stephen is indeed my other half. And as cheesy as it sounds (I really tried not to say it, but it's true!), we are one person in two places. One heart, one flesh, one family. Two continents that might as well be two worlds. 

And it's seeing the people who know us well that really undoes me. Because I know they look at me and see Stephen too. They can't look at me and not think about the reason he's not beside me or how long it will be until he is again. And whether they say something or not, I feel exposed and vulnerable and overwhelmed in all the ways I should, I suppose. And I am grateful the Lord has given me a heart that cannot hide, although I'll apologize again for all the times each of you will get a bucket full of tears because of it.

And it's funny how real it finally seems that we are one. Sad that it often does not feel as true in togetherness as it does in separation. But we both are praying that the things we learn this year will change how we view and value each other, our future family, and every other priority in our lives. It's almost a glimpse of the "if only"s we might have if one of us were to pass, so I'll be grateful that our opportunities to love each other well are, Lord willing, still a lifetime full.

Whew. So, the tears have stopped. I think that's all for tonight. Maybe my poor sinuses will have a chance to clear up before lights out.

One thing I heard in a short John Piper montage on YouTube last week has stuck with me. I won't get the quote exactly right, but as he is talking about the certainty of suffering in the Christian life he makes the distinction between what is miserable and what is painful. And though at times I am tempted to file this experience under Misery, I know that would not be true. It's painful. Ugh, it's frustratingly painful some days. And I feel like it would not be so bad if I just loved Jesus a little more, and that way of thinking serves only to perpetuate frustration.

But the pain is not misery because of the cross of Christ. Suffering is the primary way God's glory of salvation is revealed in the world--Jesus on the cross and my hope in suffering now. This is not futile misery; it is glory-rending pain.

And I pray the Lord gets enormous glory from it. No matter how much it hurts. No matter how many days ahead will feel like this one. No matter how many showers, meals, car rides, communions, or blog posts I have yet to cry through.

When all my tears have fallen

And my strength lies in their wet

When my heart is naught but frailty

Jesus, let me not forget!

Not only did Your tears fall

But Your sweat became as blood

As You gazed on separation

Cost of mercy's welling flood

But as Your tears led to glory

Please allow mine so to do

For every teardrop let one-thousand

"Hallelujah"s rise to You

And so it will all be worth it

Every mite of this sweet pain

If Your glory shines the brighter

Beauty bursting through the rain

learning how to deal

For several months now I've been praying about how to "suffer" well throughout the year, and I have felt like "suffering" was an extreme word until this morning. As I was reading through a chapter in one of Tim Keller's most recent books, the Lord began to shed light on the balance I have been wrestling with. I want to embrace the sadness/frustration/pain of separation as the current reality that they are, but I want my hope to be set so fully on Christ that it is not the overarching theme of my life. It seems to be a tension between being real and giving church answers, facing difficulty and being ok with it, living for eternity and ignoring the present altogether.

I would like to quote several portions of this chapter entitled "The Cup" from King's Cross. Keller is explaining the agony of what Jesus felt the night before He died as He asked the Father to remove the cup of wrath from Him. Jesus has just experienced the first taste of the anguish our redemption will cost him, and Keller explains His agony in the Garden of Gethsemane.

Suffering happens, we might say, when there's a gap between the desires of your heart and the circumstances of your life, and the bigger the gap, the greater the suffering. 

Often what seem to be our deepest desires are really just our loudest desires. 

Yet not what I will, but what you will.Jesus is subordinating his loudest desires to his deepest desires by putting them in the Father's hands. As if to say, "If the circumstances of life do not satisfy the present desires of my heart, I'm not going to suppress those desires, but I'm not going to surrender to them, either. I know that they will only be satisfied, eventually, in the Father. I will trust and obey him, put myself in his hands, and go forward." 

Jesus doesn't deny his emotions, and he doesn't avoid the suffering. He loves into the suffering. In the midst of his suffering, he obeys for the love of the Father--and for the love of us.And when you see that, instead of perpetually denying your desires or changing your circumstances, you'll be able to trust the Father in your suffering. You will be able to trust that because Jesus took the cup, your deepest desires and your actual circumstances are going to keep converging until they unite forever on the day of the eternal feast. 

That love--whose obedience is wide and long high and deep enough to dissolve a mountain of rightful wrath--is the love you've been looking for all your life. No family love, no friend love, no mother love, no spousal love, no romantic love--nothing could possibly satisfy you like that. All those other kinds of loves will let you down; this one never will.

Praying to remember, reflect on, and digest this love as much as possible in the days, weeks, months to come. Grateful for the reminder and the revelation. I would highly recommend King's Cross, or any other by Tim Keller.

single ladies, this is what you're looking for

Last Monday night as Lauren and I were sitting down to our first roommate dinner, a knock sounded at the door. Upon first glancing out the peep-hole I thought my brother and his roommates had come to visit. Four younger males--who else could it be?

To my surprise and great blessing, I actually found Michael James, Jeff Cheung, Harris Hosch and Tyler Eason outside my door. These four guys, along with a handful of others, were part of a discipleship group (d-group) that Stephen led from January to July of this year. Each of them is a student at Georgia Tech and a fraternity brother of Stephen's, and I have had a blast getting to know them over the course of the year.

These precious men did not come empty handed. Rather, they brought me a massive plate piled high with six dozen ish cookies and hand-written Scripture cards to go along with the dining room countdown theme. Tyler even wrote a letter.

They did not stay long, but in the few minutes they did they repeatedly voiced their gratitude, love and willingness to serve me at any time in the coming year. Needless to say, my heart was overwhelmed by gratitude for their thoughtfulness. 

Two take-aways from this:

1. Ladies, look for men like these who are on the look-out for ways to care for women, even married women, in selfless ways. These are men who will truly know how to deeply love just one woman for the rest of their lives.

And 2. I am so grateful for Stephen and for his legacy that blesses me in his absence. The Lord uses him in unending ways to bring me back to the throne of grace in praise and gratitude.

The Lord continues to make it evident that He intends to answer my prayers and then some. A few months ago, as I began to realize that this year is an infinitely bigger deal for me and Stephen than for anyone else (although our parents certainly come close and are always thinking and praying), I asked the Lord that He would always remind just one person about me. As much as my heart sometimes feels like it needs everyone to think about me all the time, I just prayed that at least one person would be remembering at any given time. Guess He thought that was asking too small.

Thank you, d-group guys men, for caring for me. We love y'all too. It has been such an undeserved privilege to serve you this year.

And thank you to each of you who are reading. You have no idea how much the Lord blesses your comments, your texts, your calls and your simple prayers. He is using you to go above and beyond what I ask or imagine.

Grateful to report that another week has passed. More updates soon on what is keeping me busy, but for now the scripture from Week 51, Psalms 16:1-4a:

"Preserve me, O God, for in you I take refuge. 

I say to the Lord, 'You are my Lord; 

I have no good apart from you.'

As for the saints in the land, they are the excellent ones,

in whom is all my delight.

The sorrows of those who run after another god shall multiply."

"Stut!"

Impatiently squirming to get out of her high chair, Juliet moans: "Stut!"

Reaching for the ground because she is finished swinging: "Stut!"

Unhappy about time-out in my lap after standing up on the couch: "Stut!"

My reply, "You're not stuck, baby."

Funny how perspective changes everything. 

As Juliet's vocabulary has grown, she has learned this word associated with limited movement in a place she does not want to be. We are still anxiously waiting for her little mouth to pronounce the "-ck" sound, but her version of this word is substituted multiple times a day.

It first struck a chord in me one day as she wiggled around in her high chair. I always try to explain to her what her reality truly is. "No, sweet girl, you're not stuck. You're in your chair where it's safe and you're able to eat. Katie will get you down."

Funny how these safe and perfectly positioned places seem to her to be nothing more than a frustrating trap in certain moments of strife. Though the high chair is the easiest, simplest place for her to eat, and though the swing is the safest, most fun carrier for such a playground activity, and though sitting still in my lap is the best thing for her character and personal development after a bout of rebellion, they are often to her an annoyance, a stressor, and a position to be fought and escaped from with every ounce of energy in her baby girl body.

I recently can relate to her.

Every part of me is fighting in some way against the position, the discipline and the goodness of the Lord in this season of life. I see parts of what He is doing, and I want Him to have His way, but my soul has been restless, squirmy and "stut" in a place I do not want to be.

Same as Juliet, I would love to wriggle loose and be on my own at times, or at least I think I do. But what I cannot see is His perspective on where He has positioned me. Uncomfortable as it may be, and although I would likely not choose it on my own, He has situated, elevated, constrained and prepared me for something much better than what I can see. And to fidget away from the strong arms of my Father would mean falling, regressing, missing out on all He has in store for those who love Him and are called according to His purpose.

Maybe Juliet and I can learn this lesson together.

Week 52

Last Sunday I got to take down Week 52 from the kitchen countdown. The scripture written on it made for a time of prayer and reflection as I got ready to face another week.

Psalm 126:5-6 says:

"Those who sow in tears

shall reap with shouts of joy!

He who goes out weeping,

bearing the seed for sowing,

shall come home with shouts of joy,

bringing his sheaves with him."

Such a passage could not have possibly been more fitting for Sunday evening. Sundays are hard. Period.

Church without Stephen is hard.

Sabbath rest without Stephen is hard.

Staring down another week without Stephen is hard.

Crying in public is hard.

Sundays are just hard.

So when I read about tears and weeping I immediately connected. Ok, Lord. I've got the tears and weeping part down. No problem.

But I realized that the focus of these verses needed to be that the tears and weeping were not primary actions here. They are descriptors of the manner in which something else is done: sowing and bearing the seed.

What do You want me to sow? What seed have You given me to bear? What harvest are You plowing and sowing for?

Praying for direction, purpose and drive as I cry these tears for sowing over the next 51 weeks. Praying I go out intentionally. Praying the Lord brings a harvest of fruit one hundred fold of every tear I cry--that would be a truck load of fruit. And because I can imagine it, I know He will do even more.

in great company

The end of Week 52 is inching closer. I have decided to countdown from 52 to 1 so I'll always know how much time is left. Grateful it will get smaller and smaller as the weeks go on!

To celebrate the passing of the weeks and Lauren's official settledness into life at the condo, we had a girls' night on Monday night, complete with cookies, candy, crafts and chick flicks. A very big THANK YOU to Julie Koon, Emily Schultz, Kimberly Johnson, Rene Schultz and Maggie Younker for helping to make a countdown calendar for the dining room window. We spent several hours crafting little cards to display, one to be removed for each week that Stephen is gone. Each unique card has a scripture reference on it, and I look forward to how the Lord has provided Truth for each of the weeks to come. The evening was a huge success and one more evidence of the fact that I have been given the greatest friends in the world. Thank you all so much!

Yesterday Juliet and I scooted down to Smyrna for a play date with Connor (3) and Lucy (13 months). Their dad is also deployed and their mom, Amanda, has been an incredible encouragement to me over the two short months that I have known her. We had a blast playing with their toys, walking in their neighborhood, rolling down the couch cushions and playing piano! It is so neat to watch great parents love and instruct their children, and I certainly had a front-row seat yesterday. I look forward to loving on and learning from this precious family in the months ahead! Praising the Lord for godly community to live this stage of life with.

And today I am praising Him for another new friend. I met Cat, a German nanny in the area, at the park last week, and Juliet and her charge enjoyed swinging together again today. As we talked about one day wanting children of our own, I told her the itch is not quite full-grown in me because Stephen is gone. Of course she said, "Then we are in the same boat!" Her husband deployed in April and will be gone until April 2012. She is new to Atlanta and lives about ten minutes from us. Her husband came home on R&R in September for their big wedding, and her mom is still in town from Germany for that reason. However, she said now that the wedding planning is over and when her mom leaves, she is nervous that she will have nothing to do as she does not have any friends here. We exchanged numbers and plan to be in touch after her mom goes back to Germany next week. I am so excited to spend time with Cat and hopefully introduce her to some of my friends. Please pray with me that this will become a meaningful relationship and one the Lord uses to draw each of us to Himself!

And, for the first time, having an almost-German last name was another good conversation starter. Who knew that "kumpf" means "fight," as in Hitler's MEIN KAMPF? Fantastic! I have never been more glad that someone, somewhere along the way, dropped that "f"!

The Lord has given me so many opportunities to share this experience with people who love Him and love me, and I could not be more grateful for that. Thank you all for reading this far and for keeping up with me. Please know that I look forward to the Lord's glory and use of this deployment to strengthen my heart and those of the people around me. As such, I know there will be days when some of you will ask how Stephen or I am doing and I will burst into tears and drench you with honesty. I apologize in advance if that will make you uncomfortable, but please know I would prefer that to shallow conversation any day of the week. I think that will be more of a rare occurrence than the norm, but I would rather be real and let the real strength of Christ be displayed than pretend I am fine. So unless you would just rather avoid the small threat of water works, I welcome deep questions and meaningful conversation. Glory to God!

And oh yeah! Stephen is doing well! He and the guys are thoroughly enjoying the goodies his mom packed on Sunday. The only disappointing news is that he is sleeping in barracks with about 20 other guys. Fortunately he has ear plugs, but he says sleep would be impossible without them for the absurd volume created by almost two dozen men snoring in unison. Please continue to pray for his relationships and for the Lord's direction as he moves toward his mission. 

the big day

Today was the big day, and I feel there is at once so much to say and yet no words for all that I am thinking and feeling. The Lord blessed it on so many levels on the homefront, and I can only pray He does the same for Stephen as he is away. After the send-off ceremony and the departure of the buses, my family and Stephen's parents took me to brunch at the Cheesecake Factory where Marisa Acree and Katie Phillips joined by surprise. I had the privilege of spending the remainder of the day with them and Kimberly Johnson in a very successful attempt to postpone my own solo homecoming. 

Just a few of the random things going on in my mind:

Grateful that the day I have dreaded for nearly six months is over.

Grateful to start the countdown to next October.

Grateful for all your prayers and encouragement.

Praying for Stephen who has truly been led out into solitude with the Lord.

And while I wish I had more meaningful words or insights of my own, the Lord's grace overwhelms me at every turn. I had previously purposed to read through the "Streams in the Desert" devotional over the year that Stephen is away and was reminded of it by a conversation with our moms this morning. Unfortunately I cannot take any credit for the poem that accompanied today's short reading, but I'll be darned if God does not somehow bless these sorts of books so that October 2nd was exactly what I needed it to be. I think He must shuffle them around among the pages so that the right one pops up whenever I open it. So of course as I climbed into bed alone tonight, He met me here:

Come with me by yourselves and rest awhile,

I know you're weary of the stress and throng, 

Wipe from your brow the sweat and dust of toil,

And in My quiet strength again be strong.

Come now aside from all the world holds dear,

For fellowship the world has never known,

Alone with Me, and with My Father here,

With Me and with My Father, not alone. 

Come, tell Me all that you have said and done,

Your victories and failures, hopes and fears.

I know how hardened hearts are wooed and won; 

My choicest wreaths are always wet with tears.

Come now and rest; the journey is too great,

And you will faint beside the way and sink;

The bread of life is here for you to eat,

And here for you the wine of love to drink.

Then from fellowship with your Lord return,

And work till daylight softens into even:

Those brief hours are not lost in which you learn

More of your Master and His rest in Heaven.