Unexpected Roots

I come from a family where roots run down deep, generations back all from the same place.  I grew up 5 miles from both grandmas, and spent almost every single weekend at a family birthday party or confirmation or baptism.

I was raised on extended family life.

I watched my parents in their ministry of the here and now, always beautifying and growing their little corner of the world.  It was small and familiar and stable, and it is what allowed them to bring children with incredibly difficult, unstable lives into our family.  As my mom said late one night, as she holds my nephew asleep in the dark while we talk on the living room couches, "It was those roots that gave us that freedom."

It was what I always assumed my life would be- stable.  Move away to college, then come back.  Get married, have babies, and raise them in the same town, church, school, house I brought them home to.

But.

That hasn't been God's plan for my life so far, and it seems it will not be, at least for a long while more. Twenty-one moves in nine years remind me that life has not gone as I planned, and I am not in control.

I trust God's plan, even if I don't understand it.

God has been teaching me for the last few years about roots, and what they mean to Him.  They are not attached to time or place or anything else of this world; those are foundations of sand.  He is teaching me that He is the only safe place to attach and dwell and draw Living Water.  Geographical stability is not lasting; I am learning to drink life from the Eternal.

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Linking to 5 Minute Friday at Gypsy Mama.

I Dare You Not To Cry

A video of one of our hometown heroes.  So touching.  A million thanks to those of you who sacrifice for our country's safety.

Adventures in Wonderland: This is no fairytale, Part 1

Have you ever had a feeling you shouldn't do something, a feeling that doesn't make any sense? Don't take that meeting. Don't go on that trip. Don't move to that house. Don't make that investment. Things that, from a logical perspective, make complete sense.

I get these feelings all the time, more than I care to admit. I was raised on realist, empirical academia, and these "senses" as I call them (to delineate them from emotions) are not logically explained.

I tend to have a hard time knowing what to do with them. On the one hand, I know the Holy Spirit has often spoken to me in this way, and obviously I would want to heed those nudges. However, the enemy has a way of imitating that same sense, and filling me with unnecessary fear or worry. He wants to trick me. (If you think this sounds paranoid, you should read some books on spiritual warfare. I recommend "Waking the Dead" by John Elderidge.)

So what do you do? How do you know the origin of anxiety? How do you act on this thought?

Until the last few years, I would err on the side of caution. However, I know I missed opportunities as a result of unnecessary. Meditating on this verse changed my way of thinking.

"The wicked run away when no one is chasing them, but the godly are as bold
as lions." -Proverbs 28:1

In my Bible, I have written next to this verse "I will not live in a spirit of fear." I want to live boldly and dangerously for Christ and His kingdom. We are called to be warriors, and I am not willing to sit on the sidelines and let everyone else do the work. I think this attitude is what Christ demands, but I also think not having a black-and-white standard to err on the side of caution definitely complicates things. You must take each decision on a case-by-case basis, which definitely widens the way for errors. You get confused, and don’t want to live in fear, and instead ignore the Holy Spirit’s leading.

For me, many of these situations have been memorable. Injuries, arguments, and dangerous situations have occurred outside of what logic would predict. I won’t soon forget today.

(continued tomorrow)

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...............

I am tired. No, like really, super exhausted. I know I have neglected Called to Love Africa, so I want to get back into it. I have all the common excuses: holiday season, camp, 110 degree weather…you know. I will try to keep my eyes open as I write this post, but I am afraid I will wake up with drool on my keyboard and 179 j’s across my computer screen.

This all started with a “brilliant” idea…

Internet is really expensive here, and it is something of a necessity for us. I use it for researching curricula for some Hope’s Promise stuff, AIM keeps in contact with us via email, and it’s our primary mode of communication with loved ones at home. So, you can see the dilemma: one dollar per megabyte on the one hand, and missionary budget on the other.

However, we recently heard that internet from our provider is free between the hours of 1am and 5am, which is great, because we can save a lot of money. The only problem is that this is in the middle of the night (and the connection is really s-l-o-w). But, since it’s so hot in the afternoons that productivity is only slightly higher than zero, we thought we could sleep for 4 hours in the afternoon to cancel that out. We just forgot that the only reason we can sleep at night is that the temperature drops when the sun goes down.

So…”brilliant” was really code for “insane.” No matter, I just figure I am training myself for future motherhood.

Christmas Pictures

As I am updating the blog, I want to include a few of the Gilbertson side Christmas pictures. Yes, my parents are insane.

Colorado

I have blogged much for quite a while, so I must catch up.

First, in early December, we were blessed to take a road trip with two of our best friends to visit another close friend who has recently moved out to Colorado. It was wonderful to see him (and his teensy-weensy apartment), and it was a great reason to go skiing and hiking in Rocky Mountain National Park. However, 2 days (of 4) into it, my SD card died. I almost cried. It had ALL of our skiing pictures, and some great pictures of reindeer in RMNP. I LOVE to take pictures, so there were between 4oo and 500 pictures on it. When we got back, I took it to the computer shop, and they said it was trashed. It was only three months old. (It kind of sounds like I am writing an obituary for my SD card. Or maybe for my $25 : P ). When bad technology happens to good people...

Anyway, we still have the memories...and these other pictures.

So, the first picture is RMNP. Not bad, huh? It was beautiful, and not too cold that day, at least in comparison to Minnesota. Well, I should say it wasn't too cold when we started. When we hiked into the semi-dense forest and gained altitude, the temperature dropped. A lot.

Picture 2 (taken by Liz) is of Amanda and I taking pictures of Josh and David. You'll notice that they are wearing an unlined jacket and a fleece, respectively. We three girls wore long underwear, pants, two pairs of socks, snow boots, thermal shirts, t-shirts, fleece or sweatshirt, ski coats with hoods, scarves, and gloves. And we were cold. They were, too- but they can't say we didn't warn them.

So, long story short: we were supposed to take a trail that the guide said was easy and relatively flat and approximately 1.5 miles long (I think. This was supposed to be a leisurely half-day hike where we just took pictures and hung out and enjoyed God's creation). The boys decided to take another trail that shared the trailhead, a minor detour. It turned out to be more that 6 miles long and rated moderate (to challenging in some parts). They even thought it was a little long. In addition, I had an allergic reaction to something about halfway up, with no cell phone reception. It was grand.

But, in the end, it was beautiful. Had we been more prepared (we brought only one bottle of water each), it would have been highly enjoyable. As it was, we still ended up having some great bonding time, and taking some really cool pictures. Oh, half of which we lost. C'est la vie.

Skiing was incredible. We went on one run that took 15 minutes - just to get up the ski lift. Let's just say our elevation changed dramatically. I would show you pictures but... well, you know.

So, to sooth my wounds over the SD card, the group agreed we should go take pictures somewhere else the day before we left. There is this amazing river that winds along the road into RMNP, so we parked and started snapping away. Typically speaking, I love taking candid shots rather than being in them, but I once took a 3- week trip in which I made it into only one picture (of thousands) and it is now my policy I must have proof each of us was there : ).

Picture 3 is of Josh and David. It seemed like every time I tried to take a picture of the 2 of them, they were standing 4 feet apart, so I told them to do something interactive. Apparently, in man-speak that means "beat on each other."

Picture 4 is the girls showing our massive muscles to rub in the fact that we climbed to the ice-covered rock in the center of a freezing river when the boys wouldn't. "I am woman, hear me roar" : )

Picture 5: Two of my best friends and me.

Picture 6: All of us.

Picture 7: Just the two of us.

Picture 8: In the hot tub we took refuge in every night

They fill me with Joy

A peak into how we spent the first weekend of 2009. We had a pirate-color party with the Lovewell kids (check out some former posts here and here). It's complicated kid stuff- you wouldn't understand : )

Recent Events and Tree Farm Pictures

Last week was incredibly busy for us, with the multiple Thanksgiving celebrations, getting an assignment, my parents 25th anniversary party, getting a new foster brother, and our annual time with Josh's family to cut down and decorate a Christmas tree.

We had a good time wandering around at the tree farm, but it was pretty chilly. I was wearing half a dozen layers and was still cold, and by this point I was thinking we should just pick a decent-looking tree and go. Honestly, once a tree is decorated with lights and ornaments and tinsel, its flaws sort of seem to fade into the background. At least that was my logic while freezing.

During our quest for the perfect evergreen specimen, I decided we should take a cute family picture to commemorate the occasion. I instructed everyone to find a tree to peek out from, put the camera on the tailgate, and set the timer. The picture in which I am running and Josh and Zach are laughing at me was taken after the 2nd time I bumped the camera with my coat after setting up the "perfect shot." Yeah, I am a real professional.

Anyway, the last picture is really how it was supposed to turn out all along. In case you can't read the itty-bitty writing, it just says each of our names (l-r: Zach, Josh, Lori, Hetal, Ken, Chelsea, Nicky).

We have officially entered the Christmas season, and not just in the stores-want-your-money-so-they-put-Christmas-merchandise-out-in-September way. My goal this season is to remember to not get wrapped up in finding the perfect gifts and fitting any event we are invited to into our schedule. It's not about the decorations or events or music or gifts, or even about the people. It should only have one focus- Jesus Christ. I know that, more often than I care to recall, I have pushed Him down my list of priorities in order to make room for all the holiday festivities. The holiday dedicated to His birth. Yeah, I know it's messed up. It am trying to not be so busy with outwardly showing my love for Him that I forget to show Him my love.

I Know Nothing

I guess you could say it all started with the quarter-life crisis now so ubiquitous on college campuses- "I've gotten this far, ready to take the world by storm, but precisely how do I fit into God's plan?" I went into college thinking I would graduate from the same school I started at in four years, go on to medical school, and not so much as date until I was officially an M.D. Instead, I transferred schools (which meant graduating in five years), switched majors twice, am planning on graduate school for psychology, and was married before my senior year of college.

Check out the lantern in this picture, one of the hundreds donated by the class of 1958. Every member of the class of 2008 received one, and we all lit them simultaneously- so cool!




Incidentally, I would like to state for the record that those requisite graduation caps do nobody any favors. It seems like a ploy in which school administrations have one last chance to manipulate students into doing something ridiculous- "They look like fools, and they paid for it- mwa ha ha ha (maniacal laugh)".

The Call

Frankly, I think it's preposterous that one is expected to decide one's entire future by the age of 22. Many 22-year-olds I know shouldn't be allowed to decide what to do with a weekend, let alone a lifetime. After much time spent in prayer, I felt I should apply to graduate school. I waded through the dense web of standardized tests, transcripts, references, and essays. I did the interviews. I waited, worried, and prayed. But before I had so much as heard from many of the schools, God made it clear this was not His timing. I was less than thrilled to make this discovery.

It started out with a speaker to our church in the cities who was also the founder of a missions organization. As soon as I read the snippet about the message in the bulletin, my anxiety skyrocketed. For several years, I knew God would eventually call me to Africa to work with children; it was always on the back burner, an adventure always set in the distant future. I really hoped God wasn't going to mess up my plans...I know it sounds ridiculous, but you know you've thought it, too.

He started to talk about his background. Although he knew our pastor from time in Arizona, he actually grew up within an hour of our hometown. His first "real" missions experience was taking Bibles into China and serving there (as was mine), and his daughter was finishing up her doctorate in Psychology (my eventual academic goal). These, among many other similarities, forced both Josh and I to take notice. Long story short, we told him we would keep in touch about serving with his organization in the distant future. Later, I came to find out that my parents also knew him from working with him in the 1980's- it was a little surreal.

When Josh and I both came to realize God's plan was for us to serve in Africa much sooner than ours, we asked for confirmation. We prayed with our pastor's wife, who felt the Holy Spirit lead her to ask for not one, but three, confirmations. This was at the beginning of our church service, and by the time we left, we had all three.

Since then we decided to switch organizations, moved out of our apartment, put most of our worldly possessions in storage, and are preparing to leave behind everything we know. This is in large part based on faith. We have no details about an official assignment (who, what, when, where), we haven't been able to raise support yet, and we aren't really even sure how long we are going for (most likely somewhere around one year). For the hyper-organized, compulsively scheduled control-freak that I am, this just doesn't sit well. I thrive on details, and right now, I pretty much know nothing.

What I do know is this: when God asks me if I am willing to go, I will say yes. I am perfectly aware of the rebels, of AIDS, of poverty, of living situations; we are called to look beyond that, above it. As a missionary I recently met said, the most dangerous place to be is anywhere but in God's will. I know that there are people who need the love of Christ, and the assurance and peace of the message of the Gospel. As I said to Princess (the little girl my family has taken care of on the weekends for the last 5 years), we are going to help and take care of kids who have no mommies and daddies.

We won't forget the ones we love here; we will learn to love better by God breaking our hearts for the lost and underprivileged. Finally, I know that, although Africa can be a dangerous place, I would rather go, serve, and die there, than spend the rest of my life knowing I was disobedient, that I had given up the opportunity to be used to change even one life in the name of Christ.