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Wasn\u2019t it Maya Angelou who said there is no greater agony than bearing an untold story? And could an \u201cuntold story\u201d be the same as a Facebook status never shared? Because since I\u2019ve been trying to restrict my Facebook usage, I\u2019ve got a bunch of statuses, aka micro stories,\u00a0all collecting in my head, creating cerebral edema.<\/p>\n
Well, that\u2019s dramatic. But you know what I\u2019m saying. My head feels big with words and stuff I want to say, and it\u2019s all because of my self-inflicted Face A Book Challenge<\/a>. So here\u2019s that stuff:<\/p>\n 1. Between some rain and a hard working farm boy<\/strong>, Orchard House is looking like something out of a Martha Stewart magazine (snort!). But seriously, while it\u2019s amazing how many weeds, sticks, leaves, and other junk get scattered around the property, it\u2019s equally amazing how much one young, strong man can accomplish in an afternoon. Me? I\u2019m like, Look at me go! I weeded a 3\u00d75 flower bed in an entire afternoon!<\/em><\/p>\n It\u2019s been an especially windy Spring, so that accounts for some of the junk that\u2019s been scattered around the property. I\u2019m guessing people account for messes such as toys, used paper plates, empty \u00a0plastic Easter eggs, gooey Marshmallows stomped in the dirt surrounding the fire pit, etc. On a normal week, we typically host the kids and grandkids a few times, which is exactly like hosting an army (numbers wise \u2013 and maybe volume wise, not that I\u2019m complaining). Then there\u2019s the farm boy, constantly running in and out of the house, tracking in sandy dirt, leaves, grass clippings, and an empty stomach. My Mom has been on dishwasher duty for weeks now. We laugh because as soon as she finally gets everything washed and put away, it\u2019s time for me to do some more cooking. \u201cYou wash \u2019em, I dirty \u2019em\u201d has been my mantra. It\u2019s not uncommon for me to say \u201cOh, you just got finished washing? Must be time to brew some carrot juice.\u201d<\/p>\n Juicing is a real<\/em> mess maker. But the scrawny horse next door appreciates the peelings and I appreciate the juice, since we are both trying to buff up a bit.<\/p>\n We\u2019ve got four people living on different eating schedules, and not all are on the same diet. Then there\u2019s the extended family meals I\u2019ve already mentioned. So my teensie country kitchen is in constant disarray. I\u2019m probably cursed with kitchen chaos because of wicked deeds I committed in a previous life. Maybe I was a snake with a Kaa-like instincts, guilty of squeezing cute, vulnerable, jungle children raised by apes until they\u2019re on the brink of death. And now, in this life, I\u2019ve been assigned to feeding people, instead of feeding on people.<\/p>\n Of course, the doctrine of reincarnation is often used as a joke because it is<\/em> a joke \u00a0(Gen. 1-2), and the truth is that I\u2019ve simply been assigned by God the crazy task of serving my little army chuckwagons of food I can\u2019t eat.<\/p>\n Elisabeth Elliot always says that it is in the acceptance of what is given that God gives Himself. That works both ways in this scenario. I cook for others, even though I can\u2019t eat it because of chronic stomach issues, and God gives Himself as I accept the job and obey. And those I cook for accept the task of eating what I\u2019ve cooked, while true wisdom says that you never eat something the cook won\u2019t eat. I assume God gives Himself to them in their eating. But I can\u2019t help but think He is giving His funny bone.<\/p>\n 2. Speaking of the jungle,<\/strong> did you hear about the little Mowgli girl<\/a>? The first claims stated she had been living in the jungle for who knows how long, and was being raised by monkeys. Now they think she was abandoned by her parents, perhaps because she was handicapped. Perhaps because she was a girl. Perhaps both. I\u2019m encouraged to hear she is learning some basic life skills, like how to eat and use the restroom. But I can\u2019t imagine what the rest of her life will be like. As with every orphan story I hear about, my heart feels all messed up, like it\u2019s in an uncomfortable twisty knot of compassion. If I could remedy one hurt in the world, I\u2019d choose orphanhood. Since I don\u2019t have that option, I\u2019ll just continue to sob and hurt until Jesus comes.<\/p>\n 3. Back to that whole Face A Book Challenge I mentioned at the beginning of this post<\/strong>. I\u2019ve failed to let you know how the challenge is going. I can\u2019t say I\u2019ve done copious amounts of Facing A Book like I wanted to, but I can say I feel much more in control of Facebook and my phone in general, rather than the phone being in control of me (which was the whole point). I routinely set my #1 idol down throughout the day and completely ignore it for an hour here, a half hour there, or even an afternoon or evening. If I set it down for an evening, I always pick it back up before I go to bed. This is in case someone was bleeding and I was supposed to know about it. Or in case someone blew a tire on the freeway and needed a ride. Stuff like that. Oh, and to play Scramble, the only game I\u2019m consistently able to win against my children. Dan (my son-in-law) wins occasionally, but I think his wins are accidental, even though I can\u2019t articulate what I mean by that. I just like to think that I\u2019m always the winner unless an accident occurs.<\/p>\n On a more serious note, I typically have one or two Elisabeth Elliot books that I am reading. Many of her books are basically a compilation of blogs, and her wisdom is so rich, I often find myself picking up her books, reading a \u201cblog\u201d, and going to bed in prayer about what I read. She\u2019s probably the most convicting author besides the Apostle Paul and the Psalmist, and I find that if I keep focused on the Word and supplement it with some Elliot, my mind isn\u2019t so muddled with thoughts about myself and all the poor things I suffer.<\/p>\n The other day, however, I stepped out of my routine and began reading a book on being a pastor\u2019s wife. Not sure what gave me the idea to read it except I was just shocked to find that someone broached the subject. There\u2019s not a lot of Biblical instruction on being a pastor\u2019s wife, and I suspect that\u2019s because being a pastor\u2019s wife, in many ways, is just like being anybody\u2019s wife. What applies to a grocer\u2019s wife applies to a pastor\u2019s wife, for instance. And yet! The two ends of the spectrum I typically hear in discussions about it are:<\/p>\n A pastor\u2019s wife is just<\/strong> the wife of a pastor! <\/em>(Nothing fancy. Just ordinary. And this is meant of free the PW to be herself.)<\/p>\n And in the next breath:<\/p>\n The calling of a pastor\u2019s wife is special and significant, and she will have unique challenges and duties.\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n Errr \u2026 which is it? When I was a pastor\u2019s wife, was I ordinary, or were there special qualifications and duties, expectations and challenges? I think I know the answer, but I don\u2019t think anyone, as far as I know, has articulated too well on this subject. So for now, I\u2019ve closed the book, as it\u00a0was serving only to frustrate me. The first few chapters in, I thought, Okay, so\u00a0when I was\u00a0pastor\u2019s wife-ing,\u00a0I wasn\u2019t doing such a bad job after all, as I had feared.<\/em> And then in reading the next four chapters, I thought, You were pretty much the worst pastor\u2019s wife to ever walk planet earth.\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n Sigh. I\u2019m actually not called to be a pastor\u2019s wife right this minute, and maybe not ever again, depending on what God\u2019s plans are, depending on my health, depending on a lot of things. So I\u2019m not going to burden myself or my husband with trying to figure out how to be the best of something I\u2019m not currently called to be. If the time comes to figure it out, I\u2019ll hurt my brain and my feelings trying to do so. Right now, aren\u2019t I supposed to be resting?<\/a><\/p>\n 4. The struggle to rest is real.<\/strong>\u00a0It doesn\u2019t make a lot of sense to say this, but I\u2019ll say it anyway: it\u2019s hard work to rest. So much of it is a mental and spiritual exercise. It entails silencing the mind, letting go of concerns, frustrations, everything that befuddles.. It\u2019s a laying down of worries and unnecessary hurries. What it\u2019s not<\/em> is a lackadaisical approach to life. You still get up in the morning. You still work as much as the body will allow. It\u2019s working while you\u2019re waiting, and much of the work turns out to be working against worry.<\/p>\n Those that wait on the Lord, we are promised, will renew their strength. They will mount up with wings as eagles. The will run and not grow weary. They will walk and not faint. (Is. 40:31)<\/p>\n Have you ever asked yourself why so much activity goes on with the waiting? Typically, when I\u2019m in a waiting room, I\u2019m sitting, doing nothing or near nothing, because I suppose imitating a majestic bird in the doctor\u2019s office would not be seen as copacetic. Or sane. And when I\u2019m waiting for a ride to pick me up (usually on the corner of Ross or Marshall\u2019s), I\u2019m staring off into space, counting clouds or some other brainless, motionless \u201ctask.\u201d I never say, \u201cI\u2019ll meet you on the corner, and I\u2019ll be the one flying like an eagle. Or taking a jog. Or walking.\u201d But waiting for a ride and waiting on the Lord are not the same. Waiting on God means remaining faithful in what He\u2019s given you to do (and Godspeed determining what that<\/em> is), while waiting on Him to change what you feel He should change. It\u2019s doing all of that, while keeping in mind He may never change anything you are bereaved about until eternity, but knowing<\/em> without a doubt that He will change it. That all will be made right someday. It\u2019s an exercise of faith, mostly. Patience, too. And in exercising that faith and patience, God gives us strength to fly, run, and walk without weariness. Without fainting.<\/p>\n![\"IMG_5182\"](\"https:\/\/wp-media.patheos.com\/blogs\/sites\/757\/2017\/04\/IMG_5182-225x300.jpg\")
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