Something Beautiful

I am not wired to see life through rose colored glasses. If anything I would say my lenses tend to be pretty gray by nature. That said, as someone who has struggled with depression and anxiety in my 20's and 30's, one of my acquired and learned disciplines has been focus. When we look at something, whether it be concrete or abstract, we look at it through a unique paradigm that is influenced by our own experiences, fears, beliefs and worldview. Our default is to interpret things much like a camera on auto focus through our own uniquely programmed set of lenses. When we allow ourselves to be conscious, curious and cautious of  how our default affects our perspective, we are able to switch out of auto mode, and learn to see a whole new world of depth and color in manual mode.

Some years ago, the word I chose for my year was "beauty". I wanted to make a concentrated effort that year to be acutely aware of the beautiful. It was an amazing and life altering exercise for me. I threw away my gray lensed glasses that year and disciplined my eyes to observe more closely, appreciate more fully the beauty in the mundane. I am a different, happier, pleasanter person because of it.

Today as I curled up to read to my fourth grader I found myself basking in the warmth of this reality as expressed so powerfully in this passage;

'Michele started toward the painting, but Lord Derby stopped him. "Wait a minute. If you like the picture I'll give it to you. But you must tell the truth."
Michele looked around him. How wonderful it would be to take this place home with him- the sea, and the sky and the cliffs! He walked to the front of the easel, looked at the canvas and then looked again.
There was no sea, no sky, no cliffs.
"The steps," he gasped. "You painted a picture of the steps to Anacapri."
Lord Derby nodded, well pleased with himself. "Do you like my picture?"
Michele nodded, slowly. "Yes. Only-"
"Only what?"
"The steps are so beautiful."
"Have I made them too beautiful? More beautiful than they really are?"
"I never thought they were beautiful at all. I thought they were ugly."
"Perhaps you have never looked at them before."
"Looked at them? I have looked at them a thousand times!"
"Sometimes we never look at the things we see most often."
Michele continued to stare at the picture. "Those colors in the rocks-are they really there?"
"I saw them there."
"And the steps- do they loop and turn like that?"
"Exactly like that."
"You have made them look like a stairway to heaven!"
"Have I? Good..."
But as they walked toward home Michele was still puzzled. "Lord Derby."
"Yes, Michele?"
"Why did you go to the most beautiful spot on Capri and then paint something else?"
..."You don't need an artist to show you the beauty of a place like that. But your ugly steps- if I have made you see a bit of beauty in them, Michele, I am very happy."

Oh how this fills my chest with a warm rush of wonder. The world has its share of ugliness. As I look out my window the scene is littered with abandoned, mildew and graffiti tainted edifices with gaping dark mouths of former windows and doors; streets strewn with garbage, whole bags of it, ripped open and spread far and wide by wild mangy dogs. But my focus elicits a feeling of wonder and joy. I see the soft depth of the green pine forest against the backdrop of the ever azure Mediterranean sky. I see the bobbing yellow orbs on the lemon tree in the abandoned yard behind us drooping under the weight of its bounty, the explosion of purple petals on the bougainvillea climbing the corner of the dilapidated house, the two perfect roses suspended against the backdrop of rough bamboo that shields us from the street.

Like the mess outside my window, the news and the realities of life in a fallen world are ugly and regretful. But the world is still such a wonderful place. We have been given the gift of sight and senses and the power to exercise them. In the midst of the ordinary, the ugly and mundane we can always find something beautiful.

 a few of the 921 steps (only access) to the hilltop town of Anacapri (Capri, Italy)

Ordinary Miracles

I get the feeling this will be my last post for Stones by the Road. Not a dead end, but a bend in the road. A friend prayed for me today  that the “extraordinary” provisions of God would become “ordinary” to me. That I would know Him so well, trust Him so deeply, that I would cease to be surprised but would graciously expect and accept His divine provision. I think she articulated something that has already been taking place in me.

At the end of this year of “gratitude (and trust)”, my opportunities to exercise both have been legion. I will continue to carry the rich lessons and memories of this year with me as God’s story for us unfolds and I know that God will continue to provide more opportunities to continue to thank and trust Him. As He does, I come to know more and more who my Father is, and how deeply He loves and cares for us.

I think the final stone for my little roadside cairn is fitting for two reasons. One, it has to do with Christmas, and the close of this year. Two, because in a way it also ties in with the word that God has given me for 2016.

Lighting has been on my mind the past few days. Our new house has those kind of lightbulb candelabras everywhere that use anywhere from 5-8 light bulbs per fixture. Most of the lightbulbs are burned out, leaving anywhere from 0-3 lightbulbs working per room.  Because Europeans are very conscious of energy consumption may I just add, that these let off nowhere NEAR the light we are used to living under in Canada. This is not a bad thing, unless you are trying to read aloud to your kids after dark.

The second lighting I have been thinking about is Christmas lighting. For the tree. Which I hope we get to put up during the course of this next week.

So today we went to the grocery store and I stopped short in the lighting aisle. I was aghast when I saw the prices of the little bulbs we need for the candelabras. Thinking of the Christmas lights (priorities people!), I cringed a little and walked away.

When we got home I was working on the last of my unpacking in our bedrooms, transferring summer clothes from moving boxes into trunks we had been given after an American woman moved away. When I got to the last trunk, I was surprised to find it had stuff in it. My heart kind of skipped a beat as I anticipated what was coming. I don’t know how I knew, all I can say is that I am getting to know God…. And yes, there were 5 boxes of unopened Christmas tree lights (white of course, my favorite) in the bottom of the trunk.

And what I love about it is that the word God has placed on my heart for 2016 is “Shine”.

I think that is what Sarah Maclachlan would call “just another ordinary miracle today….”

Clothed in Versace

We have a family tradition of reading missionary biographies together in the evening before bed. George Mueller, Gladys Aylward, Eric Liddell, Mary Slessor, David Livingstone, Cameron Townsend, William Carey, Hudson Taylor... the list goes on. One of the things that has always impacted me about these people is their ability to completely entrust all the details to God.

I remember thinking so many times how I wanted to have that kind of faith. That kind of obedience. That kind of testimony. Unfortunately we had bought into a different story... a story of our own writing, our own creative license if you will. It kind of makes me laugh now, looking back on the past year and how out of character it was for both of us. We had always said that we would only go to the mission field as tent makers, if given the opportunity to serve and yet still provide for our family ourselves. We realize now that little ultimatum is one of the things that kept us from serving the Lord here in Italy, a country with extremely high unemployment, debilitating taxes and an economy going the way of Greece.

One of the first things we had to give up in order to take this journey of faith and obedience was our independence and self reliance. This is not the kind of thing you do on your own rationale, reasoning, gumption or revenue. The interesting thing is that this mentality shift was not a struggle on our part, it was like something that happened on its own, in our hearts, while we were sleeping. That is to say it was just something we realized one day had completely changed in both our hearts. God was calling us to follow Him and serve Him, somewhere, somehow. All He wanted from us was to "get ready" and He wanted us to do so without any answers to the myriads of questions that surfaced daily for us.

My word for 2015 is TRUST and the question for 2015 has been "Do you trust Me?" The truth is, I am not where I want to be but I am not where I once was. In this past year the opportunities for God to prove His trustworthiness have abounded as have my opportunities to be tested in my trust of Him. So often when the waves start to rise, I get anxious and say "Help me trust you, God." over and over. And He does. But I want it to be like breathing. carbon dioxide in, carbon monoxide out. Conflict in, Trust out.

I hold a very smooth and precious stone in my hand right now. Lovingly monogrammed with a P for Provision but that could as easily stand for P for proof. Proof that God is trustworthy. Proof that when we live fully reliant on Him He comes through in ways that exceed our imaginings. Proof that when you give up, God gives back, and that He does so abundantly.

The background:  Pietro's Italian driver's license and the unfortunate new law that anyone whose Italian driver's license has been expired for more than five years must start from scratch, which means taking drivers instruction classes and it is very, very expensive, over $1,000 CAD. Starting out on the first level of vehicle insurance once again meant over $1,200 CAD for 6 months insurance. It may not sound scary to those of you with savings accounts and salaries, but for us, we truly have to rely on God to meet these unexpected expenses in ways we can't foresee. I laughed when I all of a sudden came to the realization that we are living our own missionary biography.

If I don't give in to anxiety, which I didn't this time, I usually unwittingly find my thoughts veering into the traffic control lane. Meaning I start to brainstorm how I can save money on groceries and gas and electricity in order to cover these expenses. Left to myself I could save a bundle by cooking on war rations and going unplugged. But that's solving things my way and that is not allowing for the P is for Providence stone to be placed in my path. God has a better way. His way doesn't involve me at all. His way tells me  "You will not have to fight this battle. Take up your positions; stand firm and see the deliverance the LORD will give you." 2 Chronicles 20:17, Exodus 14:3. So I chose to trust and not deny my family meat and cheese and commit these expenses to God.  Three things happened within 10 days.

The first proof of God's provision came clear as lightning at midnight when we received our monthly remittance from MSC Canada. It included $1,500 in one time gifts from 3 churches and one individual who are MSC supporters (people we have no personal connection with besides the fact that we are MSC workers and they are MSC supporters). This is $1,500 over and above our monthly budget needs!

The second proof came in the person of a lady from our church showing up at our doorstep with a brown paper bag of pizza, bread and croissants from the bakery. The baker entrusts her (a dear lady of mercy on a very small pension with an orphaned grandaughter to raise) with his leftovers at the end of the day, to use or to distribute as she is led. God led her to our door.

The third proof, and the one that really caught my breath, was an expression of God's provision towards our girls. Its been a tough week for them.  They have given up as much, if not more, than any of us. They have been suffering the deep pain of loss of their relationships, loss of their music since we had to leave the piano behind, and loss of independence since the culture and language here still present a challenge they are not comfortable moving around freely in. Today there was another ring of the bell and the same sweet lady's voice on the intercom. Another delivery from the bakery, but more besides.

Just up the road from us is a darling little boutique that has Versace and Calvin Klein numbers cutely arranged in the window. Suffice it to say we have never gone in. We have visited the little Napoletano store further up on the other side where we found a pair of  ballerina flats for Shailey for 5 euros, but they were in need of glue after one wear. We have also enjoyed hunting for summer pj's and camisoles at the open air market, where we can find things marked down to our price range. That said, Italy is the land of "moda" (fashion) and heaven forbid any economical crisis should mess with fashion, so the boutiques continue to offer shoes and bags and brand name jeans for $100 euros a piece ($140 CAD) and Italians somehow continue to buy them.

Back to sweet little Maria Martucci at our door this morning. She had just come from the boutique where she had been told to come and pick up a last years bathing suit for her granddaughter, a gift from the proprietor since it was no longer "in fashion". While there the proprietor loaded her up with four paper bags of last seasons clothes for her to find a home for... and the little lady marched out of the boutique and up the block to our gate. When I saw the labels and price tags on these clothes my heart caught in my throat but when the girls tried them on and they fit like they were tailor made then the tears really fell. Like Jacob we have entrusted our journey to God asking Him to go before us and give us bread to eat and clothing to wear (Genesis 28:20). We just never imagined He'd clothe our children in Versace.

For Real. Two Stones, Two Stories.

We booked our flights yesterday. The range of emotions this involved defies explanation.  Awe, excitement, fear to name a few, and not necessarily in that order. This is real. We are moving to Italy on March 17th. No turning back. When we got the green light to book our flights from our leadership team and the Evangelism and Missions Team at our church my heart started to beat out of control in my chest and the wind was pretty much sucked right out of my lungs;  like standing at the gaping exit of a plane at forty thousand feet, catapulting along, time to jump.

The need for trust just sky rocketed to a new level of challenge. As much as it feels we have needed to trust until now, it has been toddler's play compared to the depth of trust these next stages of obedience are going to require of us. And yet, with the challenge, comes the awe of getting to experience the beyond fathomable faithfulness and extravagant blessedness of being children led and cared for by the King. Today I get to add two new stones, weighty and wonderful, to my altar of praise.

If you have spoken to us at all along this journey you will know the struggle that support raising has been for us. Not in the sense of dreading it, but in the sense of struggling to have clear conviction, discernment and clarity on the specific approach God has wanted us to take. There are various philosophies of support raising, no right or wrong, and the whole time we have been weighing each and trying, trying, trying to hear from God on which approach He wanted us to take. The one most common is to make a list of every person you know, arrange one on one meetings with them, share your call and invite them to partner with you.  The other extreme side of the spectrum is to commit your needs to the Lord, continue to walk in obedience and commit to trust that HE will invite people to be part. It still requires sharing your call, but not for the purpose of solicitation.  If any of you know the biography of George Mueller, he is the poster missionary for this approach.

For months we prayed, discussed, sought God's clarity and HIS will for our attitude and role towards support raising. While we did do the work of booking missions spotlight presentations in about 12 different churches, we did not have peace about "making the list" of every person we've ever met and sitting down with them to invite them to partner. But we also struggled almost daily with what we should do as for months our support hovered at about the $1,700 a month level (and that in theory since the $1,100 monthly support our church is providing for us out of their general budget will not actually begin until we are on the field).

Still, every time we would contemplate more aggressively inviting people to partner with us we just didn't have peace about forcing it. With TRUST being the word God has challenged me to take on for my growth word of 2015, and Pietro confirming it, we just didn't see how "managing" things to that extreme was not trusting in our own power to create a desirable outcome. So for long months, we waited and sought a clear voice from the Lord, saying "this way" or "that way" but to no avail.

Finally one morning about a month ago,  our church visits now winding to a close and it being time to seriously evaluate how we were going to get to the next marker in this journey, that being full support of $5,500 a month when we were only at just over $1,500 it was time to get serious with God. I woke up one morning really early, which is unnatural for me, with the conviction in my heart that I was to lay a Gideon fleece before God and that He desired to answer directly. So I did.  About a week before I had sent out 5 pilot letters, personal letters to the first 5 people in our inbox, in the traditional missionary style of connecting (each letter was personal, not a form letter) and inviting them to prayerfully consider partnering with us.  The fleece was that if God wanted us to make a list and sit down with all our contacts one of those people would contact us that day saying they wanted to support us. If God wanted us to continue TRUSTING and WAITING on Him to do the work of raising up financial partners for us that we would be contacted by someone that same day who was NOT on the list of people I had personally contacted.

Not two hours had passed before I received a text from someone not on the list, expressing their decision to support us financially. When I shared with Pietro we both had absolute peace and a spiritual thrill of confirmation that God was saying "I've got this.  I know this seems like a huge stretch for you, to be able to go from $1,700 a month to $5,500 a month, but for Me this is tiddlywinks. Watch and see." And from that point, the calendar I kept with little cliff notes of provision and support had a new name added to its boxes daily, sometimes multiple names, and our support base doubled in less than a month.

Once our support was within $500 a month of our "essentially needed to survive" level (we will start out living with Pietro's mom which allows us to cut $1,500 a month expenses from our budget for the first term as we can start out without rent and utility expenses) we knew it was time to start planning the big leap of faith. The booking of our flights. Essentially this was a vote of confidence in God that He who has begun a good work will be faithful to complete it and to say "God, we trust that in 5 weeks time, you will have provided for our essential needs enough for us to step into the river and trust the water will part. So yesterday we waded in with hearts in our throats. The story of how God provided for our flights is a second stone that literally seems to hum with a supernatural charge in my hand.

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To decide what flight itinerary was going to be practical and feasible for our family was a roller coaster of considerations.  At first we had two criteria.  One layover, one airline.  It seemed sensible for our family of 8 with 16 pieces of luggage to want to have the least amount of time transferring through various airports and worrying about our luggage making it from one carrier to another without complication. We did find an amazing flight, for an amazing price, that flew out of Calgary to Heathrow, and then to Rome, the downsides being 1. the 6 plus hour drive to Calgary on this end, and 2. the 10 pm arrival in Rome, which was still 2.5 hours drive from Florence and would require us to rent a vehicle and find accommodation for night at a huge expense.  The plus side was that all eight of us could fly for $4,500 which was less than HALF of the price we hoped and prayed and expected to get.

But after much consideration we decided that it was better to get an extra layover and be able to fly straight out of Saskatoon, and straight into Florence.  While it raised the price to $5,700 and the itenerary time from 15-21 hours the convenience of a 1:50 pm arrival time in our actual destination city won out.  So we bit the bullet and reserved seats on that flight. Meanwhile, supporters of ours told us that they would be willing to look into covering some of our travel expenses by airmiles if they could work it out to get a credit issued from their provider and transfer it to our missions travel agency reservation. They prayed before calling in that God would give them favor with an agent who would agree to issue them a credit, which is something they usually resist doing because they want to book and pay for the flight in house.

While on the phone the agent at first could not locate the third connection of our itinerary and that seemed a good thing, because if she couldn't find it she couldn't book it and would be more inclined to issue a credit.  But after searching another data base she found it and for a moment it looked like there might be a challenge, but literally as she was looking at it "poof" it disappeared from her screen and was not on the database anymore! She promptly agreed to issue the credit, our supporters called our agency and were able to apply airmiles to cover 100% of our flights.  This is the extravagant grace and provision of God and His people. This is one of those things that reminds us that we are his kids, and He's got our tab. This is one of those things that causes me to stop dead in my tracks, grope around in the grass and come up with a stone for the altar to commemorate His greatness along the road.

Of course we have never "arrived" when it comes to trusting. It's not a one time thing you GET and have forever. It's a daily invitation to believe that the God who has invited, the God who has provided, will continue to be faithful and true.  Pietro's devotional reading from this morning gave us goosebumps.  "Your path is difficult.  Difficult for you both.  There is no work in life so hard as waiting, and yet I say "Wait." Wait until I show you My will.  It is proof of My love and My certainty of your true discipleship that I give you hard tasks.  Again I say wait.  All motion is more easy than calm waiting. So many of my followers have marred their work and hindered the progress of My kingdom by activity.  Wait.  I will not over try your spiritual strength. You are both like two persons, helpless on a raft in mid ocean. But, look!  There comes toward you One walking on the waters. When He comes and you receive Him it will be with you as it was with my disciples when I was on the earth, that straightaway you will be at the place where you would be. All your toil in rowing and all your activity could not have accomplished the journey so soon. Oh wait, and trust.  Wait and do not be afraid."

Trust

I lied. Well, maybe it would be better to say I tried. I really, really, really wanted gratitude to be my word for 2015. For a brief moment I lost sight of the point of all this, that it's never been my word to choose.  I felt leading into 2015 that the word was going to be trust and of course that made perfect sense, but I figured if I was living in gratitude then trust (and pretty much everything else but the kitchen sink) was going to be covered. But I think that is the problem. My word; or should I say God's word, for my year is always about a deep work that God wants to do in me. And, yeah... trust? That's it people. And while I know from experience that I can't even fathom one tenth of what He wants to teach me about trust this year, I also know from experience that it will test me, try me, grow me and be really, really powerful.

The Sweet Sorrow of Surrender

The paradox of sweet sorrow is a difficult one to put into words. But I need to try. Because I can't just talk on my strong days, or my up days, or my inspiring days. I need to talk just as candidly on the weak days, the down days, the this-is-so-not glamorous days.

There are things I don't mind giving up. My house, my stability, my possessions. This year has taught me it's just stuff. Home truly is where the heart is. Where your family is. Where your friends are. But just because I don't mind giving up my house doesn't mean I don't mind giving up my neighbours. I miss the "knowledge" of the nearness of the people I have grown to love like family over the years. I mourn the regular "sight" of their space as I drive by on my way places. And though I'm gone in body, my heart remains as near as it ever was.

I've heard various times from a number of people "In a way it's like you're already gone." I get that. But I'm not. And I haven't changed.  I love you like I always did, want to enjoy you like I always have and want to cherish each moment we have in the flesh. I fear that in being willing to surrender all I may have given the impression that I can surrender you, too? That I can just "move on" and leave you behind and find someone new to take your place? Never. There will never be another you. I have not, will not, can not surrender you. It's only BECAUSE of you (dear family member, dear friend, dear neighbour, dear church) that I can survive the surrender of everything else.

You know those bratty little kids on TV who say "I'll do it cause I want to, not because you told me to."?  Well, in a roundabout way, that's as close as I can get to describing this surrender thing, only in reverse and with a twist (or two). "I'll do it cause You told me to, not because I want to... but I want to want to because You want me to..."  If forgiveness is the fragrance the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it, sweet too must be the fragrance of sorrow, pressed from a heart surrendered.

That's as close as I can get to describing the complex position of a heart bent on surrender.  It wants to want to even when it doesn't want to. Because what I really want is to never leave, never grieve, never change a thing about the glorious thing that's called life right here, right now, with you.