Thanks for all this, Jesus

Originally published July 3, 2016

Our tornado of a summer continues. Plans change by the minute. People disappoint. Words sting. Patience is tested. Suffering intensifies along with the heat. I'm actually grateful that a seminarian classmate of Michael's posted a lament of the summer on Facebook. She too, is separated from her husband, and working endlessly. She even admitted she needs some Jesus. It must be bad when a seminarian needs her some Jesus. I got to see Jesus this week - literally:

Our friend Matt Gutierrez painted this on our fence in May.

Our house is located on a hairpin turn road, and our driveway is a switchback turn off that road. If you don't know those mountain terms, it means twisty, windy, curvy, 180-degree turn. And despite the facts that there are only three homes in the 8-mile stretch between Sewanee and the bottom of the mountain, and that our house has been in the same location for about 80 years, and that there's a six foot white fence at the top of our driveway, and that our house is about 25 feet from the road, people were still having trouble finding it.

And so Michael looked at the fence one day and had a vision. "I want Matt to paint Jesus on our fence," he announced. I thought he had finally lost his mind. Seminary had finally taken its toll. "Uh huh." I've learned to reply to some of his verbalized thoughts. You know, sometimes men just think out loud. I simply cannot take seriously everything he says. "Oh, Matt's gonna do it." he promised. "Uh huh." This is what happens when Michael doesn't have a paper to write. He can focus on things like getting a mural painted on a fence. I didn't see it in person until Thursday, when I made a marathon trip to Sewanee and back to deposit Isabel with friends for a couple of weeks so she can participate in a mission trip and refresh her volleyball skills. She was excited to go back; she misses her friends, her boyfriend, and just the place. We were at home for just a few minutes, long enough to drop off some boxes and make sure there were no floods or snakes in the basement. The sight of Jesus, and my kitchen, and my tile shower, and my office, and my deck, and my view, and my couch, and my table, and my dishes, and, well, I could name everything in the house, made my chest hurt. It's not about the stuff, but about home. I've spent the better part of the past year contemplating home. I moved out of my home state, to a very different home in a singular community. I return home often to work, and am lucky enough to stay in my parents' home. Michael is staying in his dad's home this summer, and Isabel with her dad, in their home. And while I am grateful that my family has access to all of those homes, I miss my home terribly. That's why I am grateful that our fall renter bailed, and my work will not allow me to be in England for four months with Michael this fall. While the crises that caused those things were traumatic in their introduction to me, I am now glad that I can return with Isabel to my home in Tennessee this fall. "Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you."- 1 Thes. I have prayed this summer, a lot. It has not been a great summer. It has been gut-wrenchingly painful. It has been difficult, but I have, as Michael has advised, given thanks to God for our time this summer, for the struggles, for the hard times, for the on and on-ness of it. I have given thanks for those gut-punches, and asked the Lord to redeem them through me, or at least someone near me, so I can see the glory of His hand. So as I am punched with slow sales, budget cuts, fickle clients, broken rental agreements, a cancelled beach trip, and living apart from my husband, I give thanks for those things, as well now for our opportunity to take an albeit shortened trip with Michael this fall (but nonetheless a trip), and my and Isabel's return to the mountain - our home - this fall. That will, of course, bring with it its own trials - Michael in England until December, and my team in Greenville, working independently. Until then, and through then, we will pray without ceasing, giving thanks to God for this time, this struggle, this victory through the blood his Son, our saviour Jesus Christ, shed for us.