My Uncomfortable Zone

I spent this morning teaching myself. I had a class of seventeen junior highers sitting in front of me, but every word was for my heart. We are studying the life of Billy Graham. Before he came to know Christ as his Savior, he wrestled with wanting to follow a God that would ask him to do what he didn't want to do: be a missionary or a pastor.

And after he finally submitted his life to Christ, God asked him to do that very thing.

I asked them the question that naturally came to my mind: why do we think God will do that? Why do we assume God is going to make us do something we don't want to do? And why does he sometimes do just that?

Submission.
Obedience.
To get us out of our comfort zone.
So we will trust him.

These were just a few of the answers of my students gave.

And before I even realized I was saying it, my heart just started pouring out. I told them how, if I were to be completely honest, living in a small, rural town in Iowa is way more difficult for me than living in Lisbon, Portugal. If I could have handpicked my life, it would have been living there. I felt fulfilled, passionate, and purposeful.

Here I feel small, insignificant, and sometimes just stifled. I desperately miss the diversity of color, the sound of a language that wasn't my first swirling around me, and coffee shops on every corner.

THAT was my comfort zone. This is my uncomfortable zone.

But God isn't about my comfort. And to be honest, I have to rely on Him in such deeper ways here. Do you know how much harder it is to trust God will provide as a farmer's wife than as a missionary? Much, much harder. God takes care of the missionaries (they are doing his work after all!), but will he take care of some man that just plants corn and raises calves?


Yeah, that's the ridiculous stuff that my "uncomfortable zone" has brought out in me. Ridiculous questions and fears that have shown me I know nothing about trusting God.

I don't know if my students will take anything away from the lesson, but I know I needed to hear it. As I wrestle through the loss and the hurt of knowing God chose to end what I so desperately prayed He would save, I have screamed inwardly at how horribly "uncomfortable" this pain is.

But God isn't about my comfort. He's about his glory. While I don't fully understand right now how this brings him glory, I think about the friends that have given me words of life and truth, because God led them, too, through the uncomfortable. And as they have ministered and testified to coming out refined, He is glorified. As they have honestly shared the anger and the verses that spoke to their hearts, He is glorified. As they express God's faithfulness to them, He gets the glory, and my heart begins to heal.

And as I choose to say, "Blessed be your name," He gets glory when Satan wants Him to get my bitterness.

So, as I sit in the middle of my uncomfortable zone, I am clinging to the truth that somehow this will bring Him glory. And that, that is reason enough to be here smack dab in the middle of this terribly uncomfortable zone.

"Even If"

Have you heard this? It's like someone took the words from my heart and wrote them in a song for me. I was trying to drive home when I heard it for the first time.

"I've stood on this stage night after night reminding the broken it will be all right, but right now I just can't.
It's easy to sing when there's nothing to bring me down.
What will I say when I'm held to the flame like I am right now?
I know you're able and I know you can save through the fire with Your mighty hand.
But even if You don't -- my hope is You alone.

They say it only takes a little faith to move a mountain. Good thing- cause a little faith is all I have right now.
But God when You choose to leave mountains unmovable give me the strength to be able to say
It is well with my soul.

You've been faithful; You've been good all my days.
Jesus, I will cling to You come what may because I know You're able, I know You can.

But even if You don't -- my hope is You alone."

One in Four

"Oh my soul oh--how you worry! Oh how you're weary from fearing you've lost control. This was the one thing you didn't see coming, and no one would blame you if you cried in private--if you tried to hide it so no one knows. No one would see if you stopped believing."

I am now one in four.

I prayed. I begged the Lord, "Please, you answered Hannah. You can answer me."

He answered. He brought life as only He can do. We rejoiced. Tears of happiness.

I filled my calendar with all of the milestones I remember looking forward to reaching the first time around: the day we would tell family; the day I'd tell my students; the half-way point; and THE day.

Then something didn't feel right.

Spotting.
Questions.
Fears.
Tears
Prayers.
Tests.
Blood.
Tests.

"I'm sorry for your loss."

And just like that, the life He gave to us He ripped away.

And I am now one in four.

Initially, I accepted it and even felt somewhat proud of how I handled it. But announcements started coming. Multiple friends and family have all shared their happy news. And I have sat in my chair covered in tears wondering, "God why did you rip away the life you gave?"

And I have felt like Martha, "Lord, if you had been here..."

If you had just made it stop.
If you had just protected instead of taken.
If you had....

but He didn't.

He gives. He takes. And through pain in tears I choose to say, "Blessed be the name of the Lord."

Because it takes faith to believe that. It takes faith to want to follow a God that can give and take.

Yet I know He hasn't asked of me anything that he hasn't already endured for me.

He gave his Son.
We took him.
We killed him.

"Oh my soul, you are not alone. There's a place where fear has to face the God you know."

The God I know loves me. He lost a Son for me.
Actually, He GAVE his son for me.

I am One in Four. It wasn't my choice. It would never be my choice.
He's the One who willingly gave his Son for me. It was his choice.

He chose the hurt I have experienced in a tiny, fractional way.

He chose this pain.

And He chose to endure it for people that hated him.

So I can endure being one in four because he's given One for me.