what it takes

The days have started to get long and there are moments that I question my ability to get my little boy through this. He needs is daddy. 

Sure, he may need more sleep or he may need more of this or that, but truthfully--the kid needs his dad.

He doesn't articulate it like that of course, but as a mama, you know when your baby is just downright sad. He is definitely sad.  

My husband has been away over seas building a church in the heart of the jungle. When he looked me in the face and said, "Baby, this is what God has for me...what He has for us" I knew this was the right choice. It is not that he is not safe, it is just hard to say good bye. I was the one to go two years ago and prayed over this very spot of jungle bush and asked God to bless this place and erect His church to reach three indigenous tribes with the Gospel. Freedom they so desperately needed.  Light when all they knew was darkness and evil oppression. Hope when they had none. 

Six months later, by no small miracle, the land was purchased and the clearing process began. 

Six months later, a temporary structure was 'complete' and sixty school children moved to their new location. 

Six months later, the building began. Six months after that, my husband responded in obedience, packed his work boots and some Gatorade, boarded a plane and crossed the Atlantic to stand where I stood two years ago. 

That was ten days ago. 

He was supposed to be home today but...

Hurricane Sandy landed on the east coast instead of the man we all miss like crazy. 

So...we continue to wait. 

During this time of separation, my heart has been aching--not for my own temporary loss, but for the not-temporary losses of dear friends who really know the ache of loneliness and for the military men and women that endure months apart for the sake of our freedom. I have wept tears of empathy for a dear, sweet woman living life as a widow. My heart has spent hours in prayer for her, and even more this week as I have a minuscule understanding of the separation she endures every day. 

As I look at my life I see how God is so faithful and yet I am such an Israelite sometimes. 

He parts the Red Sea and drowns the enemy. They barely reach the other side and they are already doubting God's faithfulness. Blessing falls from the sky--literally--and they complain about what they do not have. 

I am so willing to accept blessing from God and yet I respond with clenched fists when hurricanes hit and reunions are delayed. 

Truth is, my faith is nothing if I only I rejoice and give thanks when the sky is blue and the sun is shining. As my heart is sad for my little ones that miss daddy, we have given thanks for the daddy we have, the memories we have, and the reunion we have to look forward to. 

We give thanks that He is faithful even in the storm--literally and figuratively. 

We give thanks because they are times like these that our hearts catch a glimpse of the pain that others live with, and cause our own hearts to pause and pray and send a simple note of encouragement. 

As much as my boy needs his daddy, we need hearts of gratitude and empathy. 

Sometimes, it takes a church in the jungle and a hurricane on the coast to produce that.

I'll take it. 

<><tce

slump

It is strange I know... the idea of Tiffany with little or nothing to say. In many ways, it is a good thing, even an answer to prayer (my own, not my husband's...although he is definitely benefitting from the new and improved Quieter Tiffany) .

I log in and read with great interest what others feel the inspiration to share.
I glance at my own, neglected space on the world wide web and a strange sense of apathy washes over me.
I want to write, but have nothing to share.
I want to inspire, but I am lacking inspiration myself.
I want to connect others to the life changing Word of God and yet, I feel this heavy distance...lack of ... I am not quite sure.

Something is stirring inside of me, in the deepest part of my soul. His still small voice is speaking truth there, but ... I am not sure what.
God is so near and yet so strangely distant.
Friends are such a blessing and yet I find myself longing for isolation.
People are eager to greet me, chat with me, encourage me, ask me... and I just want to turn on my heels and head for the door.
I have words to share and nothing to share. all at the same time.

I miss my fire and yet I am enjoying the dim coolness.
I miss the inspiration and yet the apathy is somewhat satisfying.
There is a heavy weight that my make-up tries to cover and my isolation tries to conceal and I pray my eyes don't betray.
The outward confidence is a carefully constructed costume designed to mask the fear that can torment me if not kept carefully in check.
The desire to appear a certain way so as not to raise any eyebrows, call my character or sanity into question, is so persuasive that I give into it nearly 100% of the time.
But something inside is changing. Something that doesn't care about politics and quotes Romans 13:1 instead. Something that is bitter over words spoken to me that were never mine to hear. Someone that wishes for a moment back in time, to defend and to take captive and to cherish and to enjoy.

But,
at the end of the day, when the sweet sounds of sweet children are replaced with the ticking of the clock and the pecking of the keys, I find the sweet song of David still hums in my soul...

Oh Lord, 

you have searched me and you know me. 

You know when I sit and when I rise;

you perceive my thoughts from afar. 

You discern my going out and my lying down; 

you are familiar with all my ways. 

Before a word is on my tongue

you know it completely, O Lord.

You hem me in behind and before

you have laid your hand upon me; 

such knowledge is too wonderful for me, 

too lofty for me to attain. 

Where can I go from your Spirit? 

Where can I flee from your presence?

If I go up to the heavens you are there, 

if I make my bed in the depths you are there. 

If I rise on the wings of the dawn and settle on the far side of the sea, 

even there your hand will guide me and your right hand will hold me fast. 

If I say, 

"Surely this darkness will hide me and the light become night around me" 

even the darkness is not dark to you, 

for the night will shine like the day, 

for darkness is as light to you. 

Psalm 139:1-12

Darkness. 

Weight. 

Fear. 

Bitterness. 

Apathy. 

Uncertainty. 

God speaks through them. and my heart is listening. 

Sweet Jesus, 

may your goodness, like a fetter, bind my wandering heart to you. 

<><tce 

seeing God

“I will give thanks with my whole heart...”

Psalm 9:1a

In the quiet place, perched on a mountain top, it is easy to see God and experience God and embrace all that God is. It is when I pack up my things and head back into the valley called daily life that things can get muddled and my heart can grow weary. I long to see Him in the dailyness of life, hence the sole purpose of this blog--seeing and embracing and glorifying God in all things and at all times recognizing that He is present in all things at all times. 

Knowing this is not enough. I must recognize this and cherish this. When I do, and only when I do, will God be truly glorified through my life. Only when God is glorified through me will life have purpose and lasting meaning. 

It is easy to divide life into two categories: sacred and secular. 

We have holy days by which we dress in our best and go to a place of worship. 

We have holy acts and by doing them, we walk away with some pious feeling of achievement, feeling as though we can ‘cross it off of our list of things to do today’. 

We pray. 

We attend. 

We read. 

And then, after we do those things, we go on living our daily lives. 

Does this glorify God? 

Is God satisfied being merely a small part of the big picture we call life? 

I think not...absolutely not. 

I firmly believe, as is true in my own life, that God will continue to allow the earthly dailyness of life to wear us down, rob us of fulfillment and joy, until we come to Him, possessing nothing but weariness and anxiety. 

It is not until that place, the place of complete surrender that we will begin to see that within Him, everything has meaning. The disease. The unfair boss. Money. Hunger. Success. Failure. 

The question is not whether or not God is present but whether or not we see Him there. 

David writes that he will give thanks with his whole heart--everything he is, everything he does, will be a cry of gratitude to the Creator that sustains him, empowers him...lives in Him. 

Taking hold of this truth, the nose-wiping, Sesame St. watching mother, can take joy in her work, knowing that God is manifest there and is glorified in her as she loves her children and cleans the bottoms and feeds their bellies. 

Taking hold of this truth, the nine-to-five, blue collared man working for an unfair boss in a world of corruption and politics, can take great joy in knowing that God is honored through his hard work and integrity in the dailyness of life. This empowers him to do his job well, knowing that is not men he is serving, but rather God (Colossians 3:23). For through doing his job well, he unknowingly points others toward God as the evidences of grace shine in bright contrast to the joy-stealing spirit of darkness that permeates corporate America. 

This is a great ideal, but impossible on our own. Christ is very clear in John 15, that unless we walk in close relationship with Him and His Word is always churning away within our souls, we can do nothing...nothing of lasting value anyway. We will continue to be slaves to what is yet to come and miss completely the blessing of what is. 

Apart from the fellowship of Christ, the dailyness of life is nothing more than just that: dailyness. 

But

when I take Christ as His Word, and begin to walk with Him (John 15), my eyes will be opened to see how He is indeed present in every act of life: sex and relationships, work and play, finances and possessions. These will no longer be a burden or a shame or vain self-serving elements, but rather a joy as His presence gives these things eternal purpose. As the eyes of our hearts begin to see God in these earthly things, they are taken down as idols and instead become the things that spur on our praise to the One from whom these things come (Colossians 1:16, 17). 

Seeing God in all things frees us from the captivity to these things. Seeing God in all things reserves the affections of our hearts for Him--the One from whom these temporary things come. 

Rather than worshipping the created, our hearts bow to the Creator. It is in this place and only this place, that we find freedom and can truly enjoy the created and bring glory to the Creator. 

<><tce