One Foot In Front of the Other

We won't lie.  This is a stressful time.

The past weeks we have been going non-stop trying to make preparations for our move back.  How do we sell our car?  What about all the European-only appliances we now have?  What moving company are we going to use?  What are we going to drive when we get back to the States?  What are we going to cook on while we're waiting for our things to arrive?

At the same time, we have been wrestling with every relationship we have with Italian friends. Trying to explain a job move in a culture where they don't move is challenging to say the least.  Trying to figure out how to connect them with believers who can help them continue processing the gospel is even more so.

We are choosing to trust the Lord.  It's definitely a choice that doesn't come easily.  Probably not a day goes by that we don't ask, "Are you sure this is the best, Lord?"  Questions tumble around our minds.  Fears flood our hearts.  Our bodies are racked with stress.   Our goal each day is just to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

This is the deal--there is no way to the other side without walking through the process.  We wouldn't be walking in a healthy way if it didn't hurt like heck.  It's hard to leave precisely because of the beautiful things God's done in the past three years.  I am challenged every day to give thanks for those gifts instead of cling onto them too tightly.

We want to leave Italy with no regrets.  We don't want to miss one thing the Lord has for us.  And so we keep our eyes open.  Our hearts weighted with grief but also with incredible thankfulness.  We keep putting one foot in front of the other and believe that His mercies are new every morning.  He will be our strength, our grace, our wisdom to leave well.

One of the most incredible gifts of the past three years has been the family we've been welcomed into at Hannah's school.  Last Friday was her last day.  I cried.  A lot.  But it truly was born out of overwhelming thankfulness.  We prayed so much for her schooling experience.  And God gave us far more than we could ever have thought to ask for.  Here are some pictures from the day:

This is what school looked like every afternoon--parents (and grandparents) gathered by the gate waiting for each class to be walked down the steps for dismissal.

Hannah's class coming out for the last time together.

Maestra Marie Antoinetta making sure each student found his/her parent.

Yes, on Fridays, Hannah came home with TWO backpacks.  Somehow Daddy usually ended up carrying both for the walk home.

We tried to drown our tears with a little gelato on the way home.  I won't lie--it was good.

Our favorite gelaterria--Zanzabar.  It is about halfway between Hannah's school and home. And right next to a park.  I think they're going to miss us. :)

Please check out the Ways to Pray page.  There are so many things we really need God's wisdom and provision for.  We would covet your prayers.

Seasons

My life has never before revolved around the seasons.  

I liked them.  I was for them.  But they didn't really impact my life that much.  Sure, I had winter clothes and summer clothes.  But does having to wear a jacket a few months out of the year really change how you do life?

I suddenly realized that in Italy, how we do life literally changes with the changing of the seasons.  Winter is more than just wearing a coat to keep warm on the short walk between the car the grocery store.  It's finding a coat heavy enough to keep you warm as you walk 30 minutes to go get your groceries.  It's finding a hat that doesn't scare off my kids, because ears CAN get too cold to feel--and that's bad.  It's also finding the delicate balance between wearing layers for warmth and yet not so many that when you put on your coat you feel like a stuffed sausage.

Between November and April, by law you have to change the tires on your car to be snow tires or make sure you have chains in the trunk at all times.  And you can't drive on Thursdays at all--an effort to decrease pollution in the city.

In the winter, we find every possible active thing that can be done in 1200sq/ft of space without disturbing our neighbors.  We always carry an umbrella and constantly have wet toes.  Scarf are not used to add that little bit of extra "flair" to your outfit.  They genuinely provide necessary warmth for the exposed flesh between a coat and a hat.

And then the Spring comes!  Our neighborhood again becomes decorated with greens and pinks and yellows.  It's amazing how much more you want to smile when you see green than when you see barren tree limbs!  Of course, all of that new growth also brings lots and lots of pollen.  

No, that's not snow.

Spring brings opening the windows to get the air moving.  It then means sweeping said pollen out from under EVERYTHING.  It means gelato and afternoon trips to the park.  There is an odd sense of freedom and nakedness in walking out of the front door without four layers on.

Our meals begin to change too.  We don't need the soups and heavy pastas anymore.  Tomatoes come into season, and it's hard to figure out ways to consume as many of them as you'd like.  Our oven begins to heat our apartment a little too much, so we have to eat with window/doors open.  It's vaguely like eating outside. 

That also means we bring out our bug-zappers.  In every room we have a device that plugs into an electric outlet.  It emits a high-pitched (almost unaudible) sound that is suppose to drive away the Tiger Mosquitos that plague the area.  For those who aren't deterred by the lovely sound, we have a tennis-racket shaped thing that when you push a button and swing, electrically zaps whatever it comes into contact with.

And when summer fully arrives, the oven can no longer be used.  Meals are almost entirely cold.  Laundry is hung, exclusively, because it's too hot to run the dryer.  Every member of the family has his/her own fan pointed on them when they go to sleep at night.  We all hang out in the living room, as that's the only place our portable air conditioner will work.  Our apartment becomes a cave because keeping our tapperellas (heavy, metal, external "shades" on every window) closed is a necessity for keeping the temperature in our apartment as cool as can be attained.

We take random trips to IKEA and the mall, just to walk around in some air conditioning for a while.  Gelato is no longer a special treat--it is a necessity to provide some relief from the heat.

When Fall arrives, there is an audible exhale, as the oppressive heat begins to fade.  All that spring brought happens in reverse.

There are times this slavery to the seasons steals my joy.  But there is another kind of joy--a relief--that comes with each changing season.  We did it.  We survived.  God's creation is changing, and it's incredible.  This week my joy is full!  The purples!  The yellows!  The lush, deep green!  My open window provides a sweet coolness.  My heart is thankful for God's grace to recognize the little gifts He has painted all around me.

What Won't Let Go

There have been times since we've been back that I've looked around at the parents we've met, the neighbors who walk by us every day, the guy who sells me cucumbers and my heart aches.  Never in my life have I been so gripped.  This country, and these people, have become such a part of our lives that I can not possibly imagine not interacting with them on a daily basis.

I was on the bus the other day headed into town.  There was an older couple who got on the bus not long after I did.  And when I say older, I mean OLDER.  They were precious.  Older Italians always dress up.  The woman was wearing a skirt with the signature black heeled comfort shoes every woman over 70 wears.  She had on her long dress coat, hat and scarf.  The husband had on nice trousers with his long dress coat and hat.  The woman stepped on and then reached down to help the man on.  They stood right by the door for the two stops they were on, and she kept her hand on his elbow the whole time, helping him to balance.  When they got off, ever so slowly, they began walking arm in arm down the street.  Never was a word spoken.

Immediately I thought, "I wonder what their lives have been like?"  They definitely lived through the war that occupied their country.  What was it like for them?  How did the husband provide for his family?  How did they fall in love?  What have they done to stay in love?  Do they go to Mass daily?  Do they know how much the God of the Universe wants to speak to their hearts?  Have they ever known the incredible riches of Divine Grace?

We are surrounded by people with the same stories, the same experiences, the same lack of opportunity ever to hear the gospel.  My heart can't hold the compassion I feel and the desire I have to make sure they know how much Jesus wants to know them.

We don't know how long God wants us to stay in Italy.  We are more confident than ever it is for the long-haul.  He has provided so much for us.  He continues to take us deeper and deeper into the people and the culture.  But even without having an anticipated time frame, it feels like my heart will be ripped out when we have to leave.  God has permanently written this country on my heart.

The Good Gifts

This past weekend Hannah was given a very special gift.  She got to celebrate her birthday a little early with a splendid tea party honoring her and her best friend Chloe.  She was surrounded by her dear little girl friends in Houston and savored a time with them she didn't think she'd ever have again.  To say it was a sweet gift just doesn't do it justice.  As her mom, my heart is overwhelmed with God's goodness to this little soul who has been so brave and has persevered through more than her share of intimidating circumstances.

Hannah and Chloe.  Best friends since they were four.

Throughout our journey to move and minister in Italy, we have tried to communicate over and over to our kids that God honors faith.  When we walk in obedience, He showers us with His good gifts.  We have also tried hard to communicate that those good gifts are most of the time not things like new toys or ice cream.  They are far better, more fulfilling and more satisfying gifts.  A big concept for a five and eight-year-old.

Having Tea.  

But this party was one of those very good gifts.  Mom and Dad are not the only members of our family who have sacrificed a great deal to take the gospel to Italians.  Our kids have had to completely leave the friends, city, church and life they knew.  God has given them great tenacity as they have forged ahead.  He has given them some really good new friends.  But it has still been hard to be away from dear friends in the States.  Especially for Hannah.

As I look at these fun pictures and think back on the Tea Party, my heart is SO FULL for how well the Father takes care of my kids.  He doesn't just meet their needs, He blesses their socks off, just as He does mine.  The rewards of walking in faith can come in no other way.  Thank you, Father, for this incredibly sweet time you gave our precious little girl.

The girls all decked out in the hats and purses they made.

Happy Birthday Chloe and Hannah!  May God continue to knit your hearts together despite the miles that separate you.  May you continue to put all of your nine-year-old faith the Great God who honors your faith in ways you couldn't even dream to ask for.

The Joy of Worship

So my mom hates when I post entries without pictures.  I can understand that.  We just happen to be in a season when I don't have a lot of pictures that correlate with what I'm blogging about.  But, in an effort to keep my mom reading, at the end of the post, I have a few pictures from Halloween.  The kids had such a good time with this American tradition.  Enjoy!

Perhaps THE thing I miss most while we are in Italy is worshiping in English.  I don't think I have ever longed to worship--just to acknowledge and praise God for who He is--as much as I have in the past two years.  In the midst of all the craziness and challenges we've faced, simply looking at God and acknowledging His goodness and sovereignty and His heart and vision for Italians (and the world) is the only thing that calms my heart.

God's Word has literally nourished my soul.  I have craved any worship music I can get my hands on.

So the greatest highlight of my time back has been going to church every Sunday.  I have savored every minute.  Since we are living with my parents in Ft. Worth, we had to find a new church to get plugged in to during our furlough.  We jumped in to a church close by who partners with Agape Italia, and it has been such an incredible blessing.  The kids have loved it too!  They love going to church, and they love AWANA.

As I have been savoring my time worshiping among a Body of Christ who speaks my native tongue, I came across a quote from Beth Moore quoting Eugene Peterson that so beautifully captures how I have felt.  I hope you are encouraged, as you read it.  I hope it causes you to throw yourself deeper into the worship of our MOST WORTHY God.  And when you have the chance to be with believers worshiping together, you can remember how much I long for the same.  And rejoice in the opportunity you have.

Worship has endless side effects in the life of the everyday psalmist.  Among them, it exalts God to the highest place, thereby relieving the sojourner of the backbreaking burden of ego.  It defeats our enemy.  It answers grace with gratitude.  And it ends in joy.  "God is a personal reality to be enjoyed.  We are so created and so redeemed that we are capable of enjoying him.  All the movements of discipleship arrive at a place where joy is experienced.  Every step of ascent toward God develops the capacity to enjoy.  Not only is there, increasingly, more to be enjoyed, there is steadily the acquired ability to enjoy it.  Best of all, we don't have to wait until we get to the end of the road before we enjoy what is at the end of the road."

Amen.


And now, the random pictures. . . (love you Mom!)

Our little Puppy, Indiana Jones and Hannah Montana

This was Ben's first Halloween, and he was so shocked people were giving him and candy (and Mom wasn't taking it away) that he hardly knew what to do with himself.

Cody's most excellently carved pumpkins

The Downside of a Calling

As I write this, I am in tears. Every bone in my body is literally aching to return to Bologna tomorrow. There is so much that stands in my way, and I am grieving it. I don't long to return to be comfortable (it's not), I don't long to return to escape the process of raising the support we need to return (I LOVE sharing what God is doing in Italy). I am longing because for some crazy reason, God has written Italy on my heart and I cannot be free of it.

It is a gift to be so sure of our calling. When we are enduring the Questura or literally melting from the heat, we can press on knowing God has some very specific plans. And the steps of faith we have to take every day feel a little less scary knowing that He will finish what He has begun.

But the downside is the incredible ache we feel to be doing what it is God has called us to do. I long for the people and the conversations and opportunity to talk about Jesus with so many who want to and know nobody to do so with. I long for, yearn after, want with every fiber of my being to be in the place where God has called us. It is permanently a piece of me.

We have shared how thankful we are for this furlough God has provided for us to get some rest before returning. We really are. And He is providing that rest. As we soak it up, and our energy returns, we find ourselves now struggling with what is between us and the place God has made for us in Bologna.

Time. We have to be out of the country until January because of tax reasons. Nothing can change that. We are trying to make the most of these days to prepare us to be fully-charged to return. Waiting is hard. Really, really hard.

Money. We still need to raise almost $2000 a month to cover our increased cost of living needs. In the past, I would have been really anxious about how God was going to provide this money. I think I am able to better walk in faith these days. I know God would not have written these people so deeply on my heart if He didn't still have plans for us there. Still, we need Him to provide. And quite frankly, I am so in awe of what God is doing in Bologna that I want to tell everybody about it! I want everyone to partner with us and have a chance to be a part of an incredible, humbling, amazing work by the Spirit of God! I want everyone I meet to catch a glimpse of what God is doing and be a part of it.

The ache hurts. But it is beautiful. It is evidence of God, and I rejoice! I am driven to pray and ask and claim like I never have been before. Would you please pray with us? Would you please join in praying for God's provision of the support we need? Would you pray for our little corner of the world and the place God has made for us there. . . that He would continue to be at work and that we would have the privilege of seeing a harvest in Italy that has not been seen in generations. Pray for the sweet friends we have made. Pray they would one day live in the freedom Christ died for. Pray they would one day know eternal life.

Thanks friends. Thanks for aching a little bit with me.

A Stranger at Home

I know, I know. . . you are thinking that since we are back in the States for a bit, we should have plenty of time to keep up the blog. Life has been crazy since our airplane touched down two and half months ago. We keep thinking, "after _______ it will slow down." But the reality is that raising support is crazy. We have been traveling non-stop. We are thankful to be so busy, even if we have to apologize for our absence from the blogging world. It is my goal to again be a faithful Monday morning blogger--OK, I'm going to say a Tuesday morning blogger. That's when Ben goes to Mom's Day Out!

I don't have a great picture for what I really want to blog about today, so I'm throwing in a random one. Last week Cody and I celebrated our Tenth Wedding Anniversary. On our honeymoon, we spent a week in New England. So for almost a year we have been saving to take an extended trip to Boston. We spent four days there last week, and it was awesome. The weather was perfect, and the whole trip went a long way toward the rest we've been pursuing.

Now, to what I wanted to share. . . in the months leading up to our trip back to the States, we talked about how much we were looking forward to "going home" for a bit. We couldn't wait to enjoy some of the comforts of America. Looking back, I think we were looking forward to the feeling of home more than anything else. A place where we belonged.

The painful reality is that America doesn't feel like home anymore. Yes, it's nice to be able to speak the same language, enjoy the same foods and understand how the culture operates, but we don't have a life here anymore. And who else around me understands the weird Twilight Zone I'm living in--trying to savor such everyday blessings as helping the kids with homework we actually understand and worshipping in English while also trying to prepare for returning to Italy by taking language classes, working tirelessly to maintain relationships long-distance and stocking up on taco seasoning packets to take back with us. I am now saying, "I can't wait to go home," and I mean Italy. That's where our life is. To be saying that marks a great milestone in our transition overseas.

But the other reality is that Italy isn't really home either. My life is there, but I'm not fully comfortable there. There is still so much that is foreign to me.

This week I was doing a Beth Moore Bible Study on the Psalms of Ascent, and in Psalm 120, the author says, "Woe to me that I dwell in Meshech, that I live among the tents of Kedar! Too long have I lived among those who hate peace." She makes the observation that the author is neither from Meshech or Kedar and he is exhausted living as a foreigner. And then she asked the very timely question, "Have you ever felt like a foreigner?" Oh wow. Do I ever. And even in my own country.

Never in my life have I understood my citizenship in heaven as concretely as I do now. This place I'm at is weird. I find it hard trying to put it into words. But I am also thankful for it. I would never know the goodness of being a stranger at home--the longing for the sense of "home" that will only come in heaven--if we hadn't stepped out in faith to leave what we felt was that place all along.

The lessons never stop. The blessings never stop. God is good, all of the time.

So Very Tired

Ironic I'm posting this the week after raving about our great getaway and how refreshing it was! This is our life though. We think we're getting a little bit of breathing room, and the next moment it's gone.

We've been in Italy for almost two years straight now. And since we arrived, we have been bombarded with spiritual warfare. Some of those things have been BIG but most are nagging little things that add up to exhaustion. Someone likened it to having a paper cut. Not even worthy of a band-aid, but it can hurt like the dickens. We kind of feel covered with the annoyances of paper cuts right now.

Last night we decided that the bottom line is we're exhausted. Every day just takes so much energy to engage and understand and readjust and think creatively. And we're in a season with our young family where we're physically exhausted as well.

All of this was weighing on me this morning, as I spent time with the Lord. We've really been looking forward to some time in the States this summer--to being in the same time zone with friends and family, to having a little more space to spread out, to being able to run multiple errands in one day. And of course to enjoying some food that isn't Italian. Living out of suitcases for two months definitely has its stressors, but overall, we've been looking forward to the weight of the challenges of life in Italy being lifted for a little bit.

We realized recently that one weight is being replaced with another. Many of you might know we recently learned about some significant tax ramifications we're facing. Our summer of trying to just recharge is now becoming a summer of needing to raise an incredible amount of financial support. Since the kids' schooling plays such a huge role in our ability to be out of the country, we are beginning feel the stress of what the coming months in our family's life will be like.

So back to my time with the Lord. One, I realized that exercising faith can often be exhausting. I feel like our family has been in a period of "transition" for the past two years, and it might not be ending soon. Every day I am faced with an opportunity to exercise faith in God's provision for us--whether finacially, relationally, or within the context of ministry. Every day. What an incredible opportunity! I was so convicted of my desire for walking in faith to be "easy." I was convicted of how I look to so many other things to refresh my exhausted heart than to the One who made it and knows it so intimately.

In the midst of my Bible study, I read I Samuel 14:6. I was reading it in a completely different context, but it struck straight to my heart regarding the money we have to raise to remain serving here under the new tax policies. My faith can flounder sometimes when I look at the numbers and wonder, "Is it really worth it?" And when I think about the Lord raising that money in the two and half months we have planned in the States, I can only think, "That would be a miracle."

"Perhaps the Lord will act on our behalf. Nothing can hinder the Lord from saving, whether by many or by few." (I Samuel 14:6)

Perhaps the Lord will act on our behalf! He is certainly able. Nothing can hinder the Lord from saving. He desperately desires Italians to be saved. He longs to be their hope and refuge. An overwhelming tax situation will not hinder Him. Whether by many or by few. One of the heartbreaking ramifications of the tax issue are the number of current missionaries who will have to go home because of an inability to raise the money needed to cover them. Honestly, that could be us. We can only wait to see what the Lord has in store. But what great comfort we can take in knowing that even if the evangelical presence is diminished even further, it will not hinder the Lord. He will contine to save, even with fewer. Just as He did with Gideon's Army. And what greater glory He will receive!

I am so thankful to serve a God who speaks so directly to my heart. Yes, we are still exhausted. Yes, we're still longing for the weight to be lifted a little. But we are taking courage.

A Life Lesson

This morning I sat down for a quiet time feeling that even though I had been spending regular time with the Lord, I have been distracted for the past several weeks. It was one of those times when I just had to say, "What should I read this morning? I'm not really feeling led to anything. . ." I picked up where I left off in my study of Matthew. I was at Matthew 7:24-29 and the story of the man who builds his house on the rock.

As I read it, I began to see it was the very picture of the life lesson we've been experiencing over the past few months. Jesus says, "Everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain came down, and the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock." Over the past eleven months, God has been allowing us to live in almost constant view of the spiritual world. He has shown us the realities of what He is doing--how He is ushering in His Kingdom and how worthy His name is for all glory and honor. I have been craving praise and worship music because of my overwhelming need to ascribe glory and honor to our God.

As I read this passage in Matthew, I think that it does mean we need to obey God's commands for us. But the deeper underlying issue, as it is throughout Scripture, is faith. We need to take God at His Word. We need to believe Him. Belief goes so much farther beyond just doing as God has commanded. It involves trusting that God is also going to do as He said He would. He does protect us. He does provide for us. He does guard my heart and my mind in Christ Jesus. He calms my anxious heart, strengthens my weary soul. He is JOY. The security of the truth of who God is and the peace He offers believers is truly one that reaches beyond the understanding of anyone who has not personally experienced it.

And as the rain has come, as the streams have risen, as we have felt the power of the wind blowing and beating against us, our house has not fallen. Our foundation has not moved. We have felt so beat up in the past two months. Discouragement beyond anything we have ever experienced. But we are continuing to stand. The words of God proved themselves true in us. We survive the storm because of the Rock that is our foundation.

I also see the reality of the foolish man too. Our hearts have been so burdened for so many friends we have seen building their houses on foundations of self-reliance--even believing friends. As the sand begins to sink, the pressure on the house only grows stronger. The house can stand for awhile, but eventually, the strain becomes too much, and the house crumbles. How much we want to be encouraging others in belief! How much we want to shout from the rooftops "Worthy is the One whose hands made it all!"

The Lord sent deep encouragement this morning. Encouragement, again, that His Word is true. If you believe Him at His Word, it always works out as He has said. Encouragement, as well, that as trying as life in Italy can feel sometimes, we will come out standing. We will make it. And of even greater encouragement, the gospel will go forth. The name of Jesus will be honored in this land.