Feeling Stingy

Friends, Romans, Countrymen! I am the proud owner of a new Chromebook! My children managed to break my last one and I have been computerless for a couple months. I borrowed my husband’s ipad a couple times, typed on my phone a couple times, but neither of those options is conducive to good writing flow. I’m so excited. It’s like getting a whole pile of new school supplies. You just feel like you should sit down and create something. 

Life has been roaring along. I’ve been going through a processing stage the last couple months. Looking closer, digging deeper, thinking long and hard. 

My daughter Ruth wrote some thoughts on her social media today that really lined up with an area I’ve been struggling with. Here are some conclusions I’ve come to. 

If I am being really really honest with myself, I don’t want God to extend the same level of mercy to others, especially others that I have problems with, as he does to me. 

For myself, I want God to have pity on me. Be understanding. Yes, you act this way because of these things that happened in your past, and it’s hard for you, and I’m just going to meet you where you are at and forgive you and help you to grow. And when you get to heaven, all the pain will be forgotten and you will step into paradise. 

Sounds good, right? 

But then I think about people that I don’t agree with. People that I think are approaching life wrong. People who have hurt me. People who are maybe promoting thoughts and ideas that I think are harmful. And if I’m really really honest, what I want is for God to confront them face-to-face and show them just how wrong they are. Maybe even rub their nose in it a bit. And then, he can forgive them, grudgingly, and they can take a lower role in heaven and just be grateful they made it, after making all those heinous mistakes. 

It’s taken a lot of deep digging to uncover this unpleasant truth about myself. And I am horrified that I am harboring these sentiments. And I want to change. I am desperately aware of how much grace and forgiveness that I need. And I thought that I was willing for everyone else to have access to that mercy as well. And, as long as I keep it fluffy and distant, I can wish that for everyone in the whole wide world. But, you start naming names, of people that really annoy you, people who have offended you, people who you vehemently disagree with, and suddenly, it’s a lot harder to feel that fluffy I-want-everyone-to-go-to-heaven feeling. Surely, some strong judgement is called for on occasion? 

A couple verses are coming to my mind right now. 

Matthew 6:14-15 (NIV): “For if you forgive other people when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.”

And, 

Mark 12: 29-31  “The most important one,” answered Jesus, “is this: ‘Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.  The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself. There is no commandment greater than these.”

I can’t help thinking that loving your neighbor as yourself means that you want the same amount of grace and forgiveness poured out on them as you want for yourself. 

Now, I have realized this about myself, but that doesn’t mean I wish to stay here. It also doesn’t mean I can just see the problem and then wish it gone. I need heart change. It’s not something I can make happen on my own. But, I know that God can make this change in me.

I’ve been stuck in the book of John for months now. My favorite chapters are fourteen through seventeen. And one of the big themes in those chapters is about Remaining in Jesus. He is the Vine, we are the branches. Remain in him and he remains in us. And how do we remain in him? By loving the people around us. And we are given the Holy Spirit to help us in this endeavor. 

Today, I was thinking about “How do I get there from here?”  How do I heal? How do I have wholeness?  And how do I get to a place where I truly want the same amount of mercy for my fellow man that I want for myself? How do I truly love my neighbor as myself? What came to my mind was a picture of me leaning into worship and leaning into being in God’s presence. Focusing on Jesus and giving him thanks for all things and keeping my face turned towards him. The more time we spend with him, the more we can become like him. And so I ask Jesus to change my heart, let me understand his love on a deeper level so that I can love others on a deeper level. And truly want everything good for them. 

Scars on my Skin

I wish sometimes that I had scars upon my skin. Jagged rough lines, now long-healed. There, present, but no longer dripping blood.

I wish, sometimes, that I had scars upon my skin. It would be comforting to look at this discolored spot, and realize the wound is no longer open. New skin has come in to make things whole again.

The scars would be a conversational piece. Oh, what happened to you? And maybe I would have heard that question so often that I would have an answer already memorized. Something pat, say what happened with bare bones details. Maybe, if I wished to talk about it, I could leave the answer open ended, friendly, an invitation for follow-up questions. Or if I didn’t want to talk about it, I could just say so politely, but firmly.

I don’t have scars on my skin. My skin is whole, sound, unmarred except for the wrinkles and occasional sunspots. Instead my scars exist down in my soul, across my mind and emotions. Unseen except perhaps in the way I shy away from certain situations or certain types of people. Unseen except in the way depression haunts my steps. Unseen except in the way my brain drifts away when my body senses danger and I am no longer present in the moment. Unseen except in the way I jump up and abruptly leave the room when certain subjects arise.

No one asks about these things. What happened? No one asks and I have never come up with a bare bones answer or even a more friendly one that leaves room for questions.

And I can not see the healed wound to know that things are better now. What if the wound is still open, still dripping blood? I can’t see it and I wonder, what kind of damage has it left? Is it getting any better?

And I struggle with my mental health and I feel ashamed that I have never overcome the depression, or the scatteredness, or the numbing overwhelming feeling that paralyzes me in my chair.

And sometimes I just wish the scars were on my skin where I could see them, and know that they have healed. Look right there, new skin, no blood. Everything is better now.

Free House: Outside Cleanup

Today is a lovely Tennessee Spring Day! Andy and an assortment of kids got outside and cleaned out some bushes and trees from the yard next door.

Here’s the before:

And then the after:

And all the brush at the alley waiting for a pickup, which fortunately our city does for free.

In other news, Andy did a job for a business opening up downtown. He got connected with the owner and found out she sells vintage clothing. He told her about our Free House and how there were several closets full of clothing that had been hanginging there for years. She came over to see what we had and ended up buying a nice big pile of stuff, so that was nice!

I’m glad spring is finally here. The warmer weather makes everything feel a little easier and all this brush cleared away makes the house feel a lot more approachable.

I’ll post more later!

Lord Have Mercy

Sometimes I get overwhelmed with what I should write about. Should I write a diatribe against all the evils of the world? Should I write an exhortation to call the church back to its First Love? Should I write parenting advice? And then, I have to remind myself of what my blog is about. Life with Esther. I’m not an advice columnist. I’m not a theologian. I’m not a political voice. I’m just me. Living life, one step at a time and sharing that journey with you in hopes that you will be encouraged in your own journeys.

So, in an attempt to share life with you, I may touch on all those topics, but that’s not my main purpose.

I know a lot of my readers aren’t American. So, I will tell you that the fact that my country has gone to war in the Middle East is alarming and bewildering and mind-numbing. I feel so ignorant of all the ins and outs of what is happening on the world stage. I don’t trust my government to make wise decisions, and at the same time I have no idea what should be happening and not happening which makes me very unqualified to sit in any kind of judgement seat. And so I wake up every morning and read the headlines, feel a sense of horror, and then pray Lord have Mercy. I don’t know what else to do.

That is the backdrop to everyday life.

In everyday life I have just finished up a class called Journey to Freedom. It’s been a two month intensive class where we immerse ourselves in the gospel, pair up with a coach, and with our coach take an intense look at our lives, past and present, bringing all these things to God. I would almost say it’s like going through a really intense confessional experience. It was difficult and stirred up a lot of sediment that I really didn’t want to disturb. But it was a holy experience that really only worked for me because my coach that I was paired up with was an older woman I already knew and already respected and looked up to. She was a kind gentle witness to all of my life laid bare and I am extremely grateful for her. I’m still processing everything, but I do feel a deeper peace after going through the whole class.

As I have had an opportunity to do a close-up look at my own life, I find myself praying often, Lord have Mercy. I don’t know what else to pray. While sins can be confessed and repented of and many relationships can be healed and strengthened, some things are beyond our ability to fix and mend and rehabilitate.

I find that instead of focusing on how messed up things are, I have had to focus on how good God is. I am encouraged to know that the things that I have gone through, the bad choices I have made, the circumstances I couldn’t avoid, none of those things changes the character of God. I have faith to believe that God is worthy of praise, always.

The things that are happening in our world are not a surprise. God’s word has already told us that these things will happen. And his word also says that Jesus will return and these things will be made right. That is what I have to lean into.

I don’t know what the rest of my life is going to look like. I don’t know how history is going to unfold. I often don’t know how to pray except to ask that God have mercy. What I do know is that Jesus loves me and mercy is something he wants to give. He made a way for me and everyone else to be with him through his work on the Cross. He has sealed me with his Holy Spirit and has promised that I will spend eternity with Him. In the meantime, I have a mission. I have a mission to remain in Jesus’ love for me and to love the people who are around me. Sometimes, the only way I can do that is to pray God’s mercy over them. But, more often, I can invite people into my home. I can give to the poor. I can speak life and wisdom over my children. I can strive for humility in all my interactions with others. And I can keep my eyes focused on Jesus and rest in his mercy.

Saturday Morning Gifts

This morning I received a gift. Or maybe several gifts. My son and daughter-in-law were in town for the weekend and I got to make a big waffle breakfast with my daughter-in-law and then see my big dining room table surrounded by cheerful children all chatting and teasing and laughing with each other. Then I announced I was going to take a walk and my youngest asked if he could go with me.

He is now nine years old and it has been several years since he has thought that taking a walk with mom was a treat.

We took off down the sidewalk and he reached over and grabbed my hand, twining his fingers with mine. I felt a little bit like a wildlife photographer. Hold really still and try not to startle them or scare them away! The day was gray, it had just stopped drizzling. The sidewalk was wet and slick, the light subdued. But it felt like a joyful, bright, cheerful moment as I walked hand in hand with my not-so-little boy.

Neither of us were in a very talkative mood, but he would make observations every once in a while, pulling me over closer to the side of the road so he could balance on the curb as he walked.

My youngest is nine years old. I have had four children leave home and take off into the world already and the next one in line graduates high school this spring and heads to college in the fall. Andy and I are very conscious that our season of full-time parenting is going to end in a relatively short amount of time.

And so, for a tiny moment, I felt very clearly how precious this was, to have one more walk with my baby while he still wanted to hold my hand.

My oldest son sat at my dining room table this morning, with his wife by his side and informed all his younger siblings that when he was young he had been the perfect child. Of course, all of his siblings who were similar in age to him and could testify the truth or lie of this statement were not there, but his young siblings still looked at him with strong skepticism. Then someone said, ASK MOM! She’ll tell you! My son looked me straight in the face without batting an eyelash, waiting for me to confirm his story. I shrugged and said, Sure. Which, I have to tell you is so far from the truth it’s very funny. But I backed him up and he was able to gloat in his supposed superiority while the kids continued to express skepticism. And I love that. I love that its been a long enough time that we can move on from all the ups and downs of me raising my first son while I had no idea what I was doing, and we can be settled in the fact that we love each other and enjoy each other’s company.

I have wonderful memories of my oldest son as a young child, his zest for life, his amazing creativity. But I can’t remember the last walk we took where he still wanted to hold my hand. I don’t think I can remember that for any of my other children. So, I received a gift today. A heavenly tap on my shoulder. Hey, pay attention. This is a special moment. Savor it. Remember it. Write it down. One of life’s great joys, tucked away into a normal Saturday morning.

Free House: Getting Easier

Andy and I went over to the free House to work today and I have to say, I think this is easiest session we’ve had so far. Highlights were no poop or pee and no rotten food. Woohoo!

We are in the upstairs now.

So apparently, when our neighbor first moved into this house it was in the 80s and she rented the upstairs from the elderly woman who lived there. There used to be a stairway that went up the outside of the house. Here’s what’s left of it.

There was a door which was obviously not original to the house.

The room we cleaned today must have been her living room. Here’s the before.

We found some interesting things today, including this giant safe thats not going to be fun to get back down the stairs.

If you’d like an electric hotdog cooker, I can help you out.

We actually found a lot of vintage, odd small appliances, all in their original packaging.

Since we cleaned the hallway last time, we were able to throw things out the upstairs hall windows instead of hauling everything down the stairs, which also made everything easier. We could have kept cleaning but our trailer was completely full again.

Here’s the after picture.

We’ve been talking a lot more about what we’re going to do with the house. On days when we are feeling poor and overwhelmed we tend to feel like just selling it. But then we revive and think of how amazing it would be to have it fixed up and available for use. That is still the plan, but sometimes it feels a little impossible. So we push on, one step at a time. We’ll do everything we can and then when we hit a roadblock we’ll reassess. For now, there’s lots of cleaning to be done, yardwork, and several repair projects we can do with minimal funds, so no roadblocks in the near future.

An Apology

This post has been a long time coming. Not knowing how to address this topic has kept me silent quite a bit. 

I feel like I need to apologize for not entering the political online war. You know, the place where I tell you how I feel about the current political situation and try to offer wisdom and insight into the current tragedy that is playing out on our screens and perhaps chastise those who seem to be behaving badly or holding ungodly viewpoints on the issue. 

Issues I have avoided talking about: 

The war in Palestine

Ukraine

Government shutdowns

Epstein Files

Greenland

Venezuela

ICE

Etc…

I have opinions. I have strongly held views. Of course I think my views are godly and correct. And everyone else is wrong or at best, seriously misguided. 

I have written a lot of posts in my head on these issues. Scathing posts. Angry posts. Pleading posts. But I haven’t written them down. And that feels cowardly. 

I’m not using my platform to stand up for the downtrodden, the mistreated, the abused. I’m not defending the weak and the poor with my online posts. I’m one of the silent ones. One of those people who watched the Jews be taken to the camps and said nothing. I feel that guilt sitting on me. Because really my apology is for not doing anything to bring about change in the world. 

I pray about it. Lord, show me what to write. Show me how I can stand up for the persecuted. What can I do to stop these horrible things that are happening around me? 

I care. But my caring doesn’t seem to be backed up by any hands-on involvement. I send money. But I don’t send myself. 

What do I want? I want Christians to stop chasing after power. I want Love to be the law of the land. I want people to speak gently and compassionately about their fellow contrymen. I want children to not be bombed and starved to death. I want immigrants to be welcomed with open arms and easy paths to citizenship. I want accountability for those who govern us. I want the hungry to be fed. 

I don’t know how to make any of that happen. I don’t want to fight and argue on online platforms that feel to me like an imaginary place where people go to be rude and unpleasant to each other. I don’t want to join protests where I agree with only one issue that is being protested and none of the others. I have attempted to contact my representatives but feel very cynical about their willingness to listen to anything that doesn’t line up with their political platform. 

I have a deep sense of apathy when it comes to politics, local and otherwise. When I see that the two choices that I’m offered are both evil, just wrapping their greed in different colored cloths, I lose my hope that my vote really amounts to anything. I can vote in someone who wants to throw out all morality and safeguarding, or I can vote in someone who wants to persecute the poor and needy in the name of Jesus. I feel tainted voting for either party. 

I don’t think I’m afraid to make my opinions and views known. I am just very hesitant to start wars that are ineffectual and cause division without actually effecting any change. And what I want is change. Not to prove myself right to everyone else. Not to show that I am morally superior. At the very least, I want the poor to be fed and housed. I want people who don’t have white skin to feel safe and secure in my country. I want children to be safe from bombs and be able to have normal childhoods. 

I don’t know what actions to take to help towards that. 

My prayer is that God would show me something concrete I can do, and that I would have the moral courage to actually do it, even if it’s uncomfortable. 

In the meantime, I will continue to take care of my family, try to love anyone who enters my circle of influence and pray. It’s not enough. I just don’t know what else to do yet, and I’m sorry for that. 

“Almost Not Afraid at All”

I’ve been reading the “Tuyo” book series by Rachel Neumeier. It’s a fantasy series that takes place in a world where each region is separated dramatically from the next, with each region having its own extremely different weather, sky, peoples, customs, etc. I probably enjoy these books so much because they are very cross-cultural, as the people in these regions rarely interact, but the main characters are forced to leave their home regions and live among and befriend people who are completely different from them. 

One of my favorite characters is Tano who is rescued from a very abusive family/tribe situation. He is brought into a new tribe where he is treated well for the first time in his life and he slowly learns the things he needs to know to be a part of this new people. He struggles with a lot of fear and lack of trust, but he’s determined to overcome in these areas so he keeps pushing himself to do things that he logically knows are good for him, even though, physically and emotionally it terrifies him to try it. As he grows in these areas, and his fear lessons, he uses a line quite a lot, “I was almost not afraid at all.” 

I like that. I think that sums up how I live a lot of my life. Growing up cross-culturaly, I always struggled with not fitting in and the fear that evoked. I never quite knew all the customs and ways of doing things. I mostly got it, but there was always something that would make me take a misstep, draw attention to my ignorance, which generally drew mockery. I learned to get really good at observing people carefully and taking my cues from them. Every new situation felt fraught with danger. I don’t know where I’m supposed to go. I don’t know what I’m supposed to say. I remember in 8th grade we had been living in Haiti and due to the major upheaval and violence happening in the country, we had to leave and come back to the States. I came into middle school four months into the school year. At lunch everyone got in line to get their food. My mom offered to give me lunch money, but the idea of having to figure out where to line up, how to pay for my food, how to figure out the whole system, was too overwhelming for me, too many opportunities to mess up and draw negative attention. I just skipped lunch the rest of the school year and then ate a big snack when I got home from school every day. 

As I got older I was able to recognize that a lot of these fears were unreasonable. So, I would make myself do things that felt scary, but logically I knew I should/could do them. Fake it till you make it. I got good at walking into situations and being upfront about my ignorance. Hey, I’ve never done this before, could you show me how this works? I have also learned how to over-prepare in order to cancel out some of the fear. I’ll look at maps ahead of time so I know exactly where I will park, and exactly how long it will take me. Maybe I’ll write down notes on questions I need to ask, information I need to remember to get. Possibly I’ll talk through the whole scenario ahead of time with my husband, ok, so I’m going to do this first, and then this, and then this…does that sound right? I’ve learned to just do the things that make me afraid because the fear is unreasonable and things need to get done. 

This week I had a job interview. I can’t remember the last time that happened. All the things I’ve done on the side to make some money over the years have been initiated informally, by someone I know or a friend of a friend. So, extremely new experience. It was at a location I’d never been to with people I’d never met. (It’s a part time position, teaching a one-hour children’s music class once a week.) 

Ahead of time, I was expecting that I was going to be nervous. I was anticipating being nervous. I was ready to be nervous. But, a couple hours beforehand, I thought about it and realized that I was actually excited. Not nervous. I was curious and actually looking forward to meeting these new people and discussing the class. Yes, my heart was pounding a bit, and I took a couple deep breaths before I got out of my car, but practically nothing! 

The interview went fine. I’ll find out next week whether they want me or not. But, getting the position almost feels irrelevant. I feel like it was a big win to do something new where I wasn’t scared and actually enjoyed myself. I did something new, and “I was almost not afraid at all!”

1 John 4:18 says, “There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear. For fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not been perfected in love.”

My journey to overcoming fear is directly linked to my understanding of how much I am loved by God. The better my understanding, the less fear I have. I look forward to a day when I will not be afraid at all. Until then, I’m pretty excited about “Almost not afraid at all.”

Still Haven’t Arrived

I’m going to be honest. Writing this blog is a little nerve-wracking. I haven’t written in a while and I feel like I’ve forgotten how to do it. I think about communicating with the world and what I want to say. What I want to share is the mystery and comfort and wonder of laying in my bed in the middle of the night, wide awake, talking to the Creator of the Universe. The mix of holy fear and awe, and child’s need for a parent, and longing for grace and mercy that motivate my prayers. 

I want to share with you my confusion and anger and bewilderment as I struggle to comprehend and respond to the events going on in our world. I want to tell you about my daily walk with grace as I navigate marriage and parenting. I want to share about God’s faithfulness to not leave me stuck in my sin, in my pain, in my unforgiveness towards others and myself. I want to tell you about all of God’s gifts to me as he has swung open doors and opportunities to be involved in work that I’m passionate about. 

This past year I have done a lot of deep thinking about faith and how I practice that faith. I’ve done a lot of deep thinking about politics and what it means to practice my faith as an American. I’ve thought a lot about how to deal with the past, forgiving hurts, but also trying to figure out how to unlearn the lies that came with those hurts. 

I turned forty-seven this past year. There is something about that number that made me feel like I should have arrived by now. By now I should have this Adulting thing down pat. By now I should be strong, confident, and perfect. By now I should have my crap together. 

And I don’t. 

Which is maybe the breaking of that final myth in my mind, that grownups know what they are doing. In this sense, we all remain children. Still learning, sure that the people older than us must know everything, and we just haven’t arrived yet. And apparently, we never arrive. At least not here in this life on earth. 

I still have questions about faith and how to live it out. I very much don’t know what to do about the state of the world or my country. I still don’t know how to stand for justice. I still struggle with wrong thinking about myself and others. I still struggle. 

Which might be discouraging to young people who are heading out into the world, sure that soon, they’ll have it all figured out. But, maybe it’s encouraging for others my age and older to know they aren’t alone in constantly being surprised at their own lack and shortcomings as they face the daily challenges. 

What I have learned in my forty-seven years of living is that Jesus is faithful. He is gentle. He is kind. He is compassionate. And he is always with me. I am not alone. I am not disdained. I am not scorned. And as I run into each problem and crisis and puzzle, I don’t have to feel the desperate fear of wondering if I’ll make it through this. I already know that I will, because Jesus is helping me. Not removing all the struggles from my path, just holding my hand, pulling me forward, teaching me what I need to learn as I go. 

That is my great comfort and peace that sustains me and gives me joy. And that is what I want to share with you in my blog. 

Blog Refresh

I’ve been writing this blog for quite a while now, but this past year I pulled back a lot on the personal blogs and have mostly just written about our free house. It was a needed break, and felt like something God-lead. Now I am feeling like it might be time to start writing again. A lot of things have changed since I first started this blog in 2018 and now I feel like I need to do a re-introduction. So here goes.

I am a missionary kid. I grew up in Eastern Kentucky, Haiti and bush Alaska. My husband is also a missionary kid who grew up in Nicaragua. When we first got married we spent some time in Alaska and Chile and then settled down in East Tennessee. We have ten kids. (And one daughter-in-law!) Four of our kids are adults and have left home and I am proud of them, and miss them a lot. I’ve got six kids left at home ranging from age nine to eighteen. Though we have homeschooled in the past, my kids are now all in school. I teach piano lessons and help teach choir at my younger children’s school. And then I keep the house running for eight people. 

I love reading. I am the quintessential bookworm, have been since I was in second grade. My husband also loves reading and we’ve managed to pass this down to most of our children. A cozy evening at our house often looks like a bunch of people sitting around on couches reading books. 

This past year our family was gifted the house next door. Turned out it was a hoarder house, so now we have slowly been cleaning it out. My husband works in the construction industry, so this is right up his alley. We look forward to eventually restoring the house and making it usable again, and posting updates about that project on this blog has been motivating for me. 

If you want to know the foundation blocks of who I am, I would say, I was a broken, lost person who has been rescued by Jesus. Every moment of my life has been an example of his grace and mercy. He has saved me from my desperate places, and has slowly but surely been leading me down a path that leads to life and wholeness and joy. There’s been a lot of bumps, holes, rocky places, dangerous cliffs etc, but I can say confidently, that Jesus’ hand has been on my life since I was conceived and he has held me fast and brought me through, and continues to bring me through every challenge, pain and danger that life has thrown at me. 

Walking with Jesus does not mean that you live a charmed life with minimal challenges. It rather means you live a victorious life as you have God himself walking with you through each hardship that comes your way. I have my own grocery list of challenges I deal with regularly. Anxiety and depression. Fear. Self-righteousness. Self-centeredness. Fear of rejection. I can look back and see how I have improved greatly in all these areas, but every once in a while one or more of these will make themselves center-stage in my life again and I have to put into practice the things I’ve already learned and also learn more about how to overcome in these areas. 

This blog is an invitation for you to come walk with me through everyday life and see up-close and personal what walking with Jesus looks like. The good, the bad, and the ugly. 

I look forward to connecting with you all again!