Being too "there"...

"Be all there...."

Have you heard that quote?

"Wherever you are, be all there."

Jim Elliot said those words. I struggle with them. I struggle because it's far too easy for me. It always has been.

I have friends in different walks of life that I consider amazing and truly great friends. But when time and distance separated us, it was easy for me to just accept it, and move on. Stop investing, stop trying, and be "all there" in my new place of life, making and developing my new friendships.

I don't know if that is what Jim Elliot meant or not. To some degree, I think that it is essential to be effective where you are. But more and more I realize that I wrestle with investing in friendships when it isn't "easy." I am convinced I have probably hurt far too many people in my ease of transition from one place to the next.

I don't like that about myself. I wish that I did a better job of hanging on. Thankfully, God brings people who are good "people collectors" into my life. They hang on much better than I do.

I am trying. I try to make calls, to send messages, to remember that it is important.

Maybe it's because deep down I really am just grieving the loss of those friends differently. For me, moving on and not maintaining those friendships feels easier than grieving and missing people that I know I most likely will not see this side of heaven. Deep down, when I let myself go there... and remember the times of laughing so hard we were crying, or bumbling through conversations in different languages, or all the adventures I have had with so many friends while I was single, my heart hurts. Those friends are irreplaceable. Those memories are incredible. And the distance... well, it's real.

And nothing makes it go away.

But just because it is easier doesn't make it right.

So I am telling myself, "Be all there.... but don't neglect or forget the ones that helped shape you into who you are there."

And with that, I am going to go send some long overdue emails.

Antennas and Humility

Last night I was just angry.

I spent all day removing bones and fat from sixteen pounds of chicken, cooking, cooling, freezing, separating the chicken, and making two huge pots full of chicken stock. All while trying to get a stubborn four month old to sleep longer than twenty minutes.

I finally was nearing then end of rotating the chicken in the freezer and was ready to sit down and enjoy my dinner.

All I wanted was to relax and watch mindless television.

Since we are trying to be thrifty and cable is ridiculously expensive, we have an antennae that pulls in a whopping two or three channels(maybe four on a super good day). I turned on the television and nothing would come in. I adjusted, readjusted, opened windows, and put that antennae in every sort of contorted way possible.

Nothing.

As the time passed, and it became evident that there was going to be no mindless television watching, I just began to seethe.

"All I want to do is sit down and relax! Come on! I have been on my feet all day."

My daughter awoke after being down for an entire fifteen minutes.

"Are you kidding me? I deserve at least thirty minutes without having to try to make her happy. I am exhausted!"

My heart grew more and more frustrated with life.

It's ridiculous, isn't it?

I have a husband and a child both of which I honestly thought the Lord would never give me. God provided money and food that I was able to spend the entire day fixing and preparing ahead of time. I am blessed.

BLESSED.

And yet I was heading fast and furiously into deep self-pity.

Over television.
Over my perceived "need" to relax.
Over antennas and humidity and chicken and naps.

I so deeply long to live in awe of the blessings God has given me. Yet I am so quickly caught up in my wants.

Lord, keep my eyes focused on the abundance of blessings you have given me. When I am tempted to believe that I deserve something I do not have, remind me of Christ. Remind me of the Love that gave up everything for nothing in return.

And, Lord, please forgive me for ever thinking that I deserve anything.

On Gratitude

I heard somewhere that the difference between envy and jealousy is this: Jealousy says, "I want what you have." Envy states, "I want what you have and since I don't have it, I don't want you to have it either."

I have lived in an apartment all of my adult life (with the exception of when I moved back home before and after moving overseas). Now that I am married with a four month old baby girl, I am more than ready to be in my own home. It has not been fun or easy to try to calm and quiet a fussing baby because you fear the neighbors getting upset. We have looked and searched for nearly two years. We have put offers on two homes only to find out both homes have had major structural issues. We (maybe more "I" than "we") have spent hours online looking at homes. We have debated building, restoring a home, buying a mobile home, and any and every other possibility you can think of (including living out of a camper).

I am beyond ready to be done with homes. I have found that at times, my heart went from jealousy of people's homes, to envy. I didn't recognize it. It came in the form of self-righteousness.

"I can't believe they would spend this much on a home. They could have done so much more with their money. They shouldn't have spent it on this."

"I would never feel comfortable with a mortgage that high. They must be insane or ridiculous to think they can manage that."

Constant criticism of other people's personal choices, that I honestly know nothing about.

Why?

To make myself feel better about what I didn't have but wanted.

Now, as we get ready to purchase a home, I have heard comments from others that have made me burn with anger.

"Why on earth would you want that? You should build. You should move in the country. You should..."


And on, and on, and on.

It's humbling. Humbling to realize I have made the same mistakes. Humbling to know that we are doing what we think God wants us to do and not everyone wants to pat us on the back for it.

So I am challenging myself to stop it. Stop the comparisons, the self-righteous self-talk, and instead just be grateful. Grateful that God has given me what He has, and grateful that God has supplied for you what He has.

It isn't easy. We are far too proud of creatures to dwell effortlessly in gratitude. But it's where I aim to be.

Love

I never really thought things would end up this way.

All I did was say, "Ok, Lord."

But three years later my world is very different than what I ever thought it would look like. And I honestly couldn't be happier.

I knew going to Portugal was going to change me. But I never knew it would lead to being married and seven months pregnant. There are days when I look at my husband and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt he is a direct result of one act of obedience.

"Love, Erin. Just love."

I knew it was going to be a challenge. Packing my bags, getting ready to head off to a place where I had only visited two weeks to spend the next two years of my life, my mind would spin with thoughts of how I was going to make the most of it. How would I make friendships with people I wouldn't be able to understand? How would I really do it?

"Love, Erin. Just love."

It was always the answer. So mentally, I prepared myself to choose to love. Regardless of what I found when I truly dug in to the culture or really started rubbing shoulders with the people, I was going to love them. Even if they really didn't love me in return.

And something strange happened. My choice to love them, turned into a deep, heartfelt, genuine love. That, for most of the time, stopped feeling like work and a choice.

About a year into my time there, God started pushing me. I knew despite how much I loved it there, the Lord wasn't asking me to return. Something I truly didn't understand. Why wouldn't He want me to go back? I had invested time, learned as much as I could of the language, and I utterly loved it.

But He had other plans.

I remember very clearly the first time my now husband wrote me. I opened up the message at my desk in Portugal and read it. I sat in front of my computer for entirely too long thinking. I fully intended on blowing him off. I scanned things to find flaws. Searched and looked for reasons why I totally deserved better than him. Basically, I approached him the way I had approached all other single guys in my life: I searched for justifiable things that backed up my preconceived and selfish idea that I deserved something incredible.

And that's when the Lord spoke to me.

"Love, Erin. Just love."

And my heart started churning. What if I chose to love him and other people like him the way I had chosen to love in Portugal?

Yeah, but this was different, I would reason.

But I kept coming back to love.

What if I made the choice to love him?

And so I treated him the way I had treated my time in Portugal. I invested. I listened. I tried to understand his differences. I learned about what he did and what he was passionate about.

I chose love. With no guarantees that he was going to love me in return.

My husband and I laugh a lot. We laugh at how ridiculously different we truly are. He could live with piles of laundry on the floor and unmade beds and be perfectly happy. I stress out when there is a pair of paints on the floor. He doesn't get upset or angry easily. I am constantly apologizing for getting upset or mad. He is easy going. I want to get going. He'd be happy in the middle of the country with no one around for miles. I love the city.

And deep in my heart I know. I know that had the Lord not softened my heart and worked away at it in Portugal, I would have found a million reasons not to choose love.

And I would have missed out on so much.

Love, Erin. Just love...

My husband and I have often talked about the many times in our twenties when we were in the same place at the same time. We never met. I even had the opportunity to move to where he lives to teach. I didn't take it.

And we always look at each other and say, "It wouldn't have worked." I wasn't ready. God had to take me to Portugal to teach me to love. And I am so glad that He did.

"You're gonna miss this...."

Lately I have been thinking about the next stage of life... What it might look like, how I am going to get there, what I am going to do... And I have been restless.

Restless because I can't see myself doing what I am doing forever and have no end in sight.

Restless because I want a place to call home... That doesn't include being a hallway away from my parents.

Restless because I know what I want, and don't have it.

I think God can use the most peculiar things to convict, remind, and rebuke us if we are ready and listening. For me... It was a country song.

The lyrics were simple, but cutting.

"You're gonna miss this... You're gonna want this back.
You're gonna wish these days hadn't gone by quite so fast.
These are some good times,
So take a good look around.
You may not know it now, but you're gonna miss this..."

How many times have I looked back on circumstances that in the moment I was wishing away and yet, now seem more than ideal?

I want to live life in the moment. I want to be overwhelmed with gratitude now...

For the solitude of a cubicle...
For walks to the coffee shop...
For two paychecks a month...
For healthy parents...
For Saturdays on the farm and Mondays in the city...
For independence...
For friends around the globe...
For a quiet life...
For dates that end leaving me wanting one more...
For evenings spent in Proverbs...
For time to journal...

Because this is a good time. And I don't want to miss it.

Yes, there are things I want answers to and somedays I'd give anything for some definite plans.. But when I really think about it... Maybe I don't want to know the end of the story. Maybe it would ruin the plot.

Because these are some good times,
And I dont want to miss a single one...

Say what?

Some days it happens when I least expect it. I think I hear it... And I turn into a crazy stalker until I can definitively decide whether or not that foreign language is the one I love and miss.

Friday was my low. I noticed three people, and they looked Portuguese. Instantly, I was intrigued. Then... I heard them speak, and my heart started beating faster when I knew it wasn't English. I stopped, mid aisle and darted directly to where they were standing. I instantly became fascinated by a hideous display of Bath and Body Works wannabes. Every word felt like it was tempting me. It sounded so similar... So much like it could be Portuguese. I kept inching my way closer until I realized I was literally touching one of the women.

And then... It was clear. It wasn't my language. I quickly tried to exit without drawing more attention from them then I already had. I walked away disappointed.


Every now and then my heart just wants to hear it. To be reminded of what the foreign that became familiar sounds like. To feel a connection with a place that was my home.

I walked out of the store, got in my car, and drove away. Somewhere between the store and my home, I started having a conversation with myself in Portuguese. Asking myself questions, seeing if I could still remember how to answer, and trying to determine how much language I have lost.

It's odd how my life there seems so incredibly distant, so long ago, and so removed from now. I don't understand it. But, I guess I don't have to...

But there will always be a piece of my heart that leaps when I hear anything that sounds remotely like Portuguese.

Who says there's nothing to do in Iowa? ;)

Just a few of the crazy, cultural experiences I've had upon my return to the good old U.S. of A.


A cow giving beijinhos to a bull. ;)

My first demolition derby... more fun than I thought, and definitely more crazy. :)

My first circus...

A place that kind of looks like Portugal in Iowa. :) Love it...

I didn't do this... but it's true.

Coming home has been anything but boring. I have been jaw-dropped and overwhelmed at watching God meet little needs and desires. More posts to come on that...but today I'm just grateful. Grateful for a God that gives new life after death, joy after sorrow, and peace in the midst of uncertainty. He is good... and that's all I have to say. :)