Loved Like That

These are my parents. This picture was recently taken and posted to facebook. 

Jolee Art and Photography

One of the comments was:

"How great would it be to be loved like that."

My first inside thought screamed "But you are!"

"because....um.....*cough* ....Jesus loves you."

I didn't write that of course, because who wants to be THAT girl on facebook. 

and I get it. Being 'married to Jesus' is a cute phrase, 

but we want our lovers to have bones and wear skin.

to provide the pay check, and bring us flowers and Starbucks. 

We want a love we can cling to.

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But I can't help but say it. I cannot give my parent's marriage, their story, their love,

ANY earthly credit. 

I feel like I should know. Being their daughter and all. I mean (granted) I wasn't around for Butch and Doreen the early years, but something tells me, (Scratch that)  My mom has specifically told me. Those were not the 'good' years.  There was a lot of pain. Not the Nicolas Sparks kind-a pain, the kind you just walk away from.

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When I entered the scene, their third child. From my perspective,  their story had nothing you would hear about it a Taylor swift song. Yes, it had love, but also so much anger, so much patched up hurts screaming for release. 

To put it bluntly, Entrekins (that's us) anger out their feelings.

We have a lot of feeling.

I watched this. I heard the fighting, saw the pain.

Then I saw a strong grown dad-man, over and over, humble himself, and ask for forgiveness.

over and over, I watch a Bigger love, pull the pieces back together.

My mom and dad humbling themselves.

ONLY

Because he had already been forgiven.

That love. the Big one. Loved them.

That Big love grew bones. became manifest. Humbled itself. Died. 

so they could be 

covered by love. grow bones, and Love each other. 

...and love me. 

I am their bone-legacy. 

The witness to That big Love, manifest in sorrow, redeemed through daily obedience, reaping unearthly joy.

I am their love-legacy.

Out in this bone-weary world.

He is love's Bones.

He put on bones and flesh and came down to us.

For to us a child is born, to us a Son is given, an Everlasting Father

I am his bone-legacy.

in this bone-weary world.

I want to be Love's bones.

Feasting

I often get overwhelmed and get mad at God that he is not changing me fast enough. In the words of Inigo Montoya. "I hate waiting". 

As we begin my second favorite month, a month where we celebrate abundance. I want to praise God for his abundance. Praise God for the work he is doing in me when i simply look back and have eyes to see. 

When we began our first term I was challenged by our budget. We never seemed to have enough. I was used to America. So I began to tighten the reigns, began to 'be more responsible'. I began a mentality of scarcity when it came to food and everything that cost money because I believed it was my job to make it work. So if Jesse wanted a third helping of Chicken Alfredo when i planned on using the leftovers the next day, or our electricity bill was higher because we had guest, I would cringed inside. My heart and hands closing and becoming tighter and tighter. I remember once crying my eyes out because I burned dinner and wasted so much food! 

God began to plea with me to simply trust him. NOT after I crunched the numbers or after it made sense on paper, but to trust Him. He told me that 

He can only do miracles in the context of belief. Provision is only miraculous if it doesn't make sense.

I must believe the impossible from the God who transcends budgets. I slowly begin to stretch out my hands,  shaky gnarled hands up to God in pathetic expectation of blessing without earned merit, and extend an open hand to others, making cookies with the last of the butter, inviting people over when we could not really afford it, dishing up second helpings, actually believing that our abundant father will provide the feast. 

Guess what?

He provides the feast. 

He multiplies the bread.

I just got done with October's finances. we save and categorize all our receipts at the end of each month. We had to by wood for the whole winter this month. All in all, about 300 Euros (500 dollars) over our monthly budget, yet the money is there.  Like manna from heaven, we still broke even on our monthly allowance. How does that make ANY logical sense? It doesn't. It's a miracle. 

The same with the boys clothes. I was so stressed about clothing them the first term. Clothes are so expensive, yet somewhere in the struggle I just gave it up to God. It's fall 2014. We have nice looking clothes for all our 3 boys for the next...wait for it...3 years.  God provides. 

I want to shout it to all my friends who struggle with their husbands spending habits..

GOD PROVIDES.

I want to yell it from the streets where we act like people are worth what they earn...

GOD PROVIDES. 

To  the unemployed husband, 

GOD PROVIDES.

He is the miracle. 

He is the feast.

 “Come, all you who are thirsty,
    come to the waters;
and you who have no money,
    come, buy and eat!
Come, buy wine and milk
    without money and without cost...

 buy without cost.

 “Behold, you will call a nation you do not know,
And a nation which knows you not will run to you,
Because of the Lord your God, even the Holy One of Israel;
For He has glorified you.”

 Isaiah 55: 1,5

He wants us to FEAST on His provision. 

To let the FEAST flow out to the nations. 

He is Jehovah-Jireh, My PROVIDER.

"I don't want to be blessed"

I said with sharp sincerity.

We were on the side of the road on a Sunday afternoon. I was having one of those frustrated mom breakdowns. We 'attempted' to visit the church in Bar, about an hour and 20 minute drive from our house. We arrived. The baby was fed, everyone looked relatively decent, church started at ten. 

As my four and two year old get shuffled into the children's program, I am holding the baby and I breathe a sigh of relief, I might actually get to sit through a service, and in English no less!

...then the baby starts crying, I walk to the kid's room to walk him around. That's when I see Xander (the two year old) gearing up for a wail. The entire children's lesson of about 10 kids and 3 adults stops, trying to consol the wailing cute kid. He is wailing 'mommy' so he is brought to me. while I am trying to get some logical soothing plan down he then screams 'daddy' and runs into the room where the service is and I cannot stop him because I am holding a baby, so we begin a one arm tug of war with screaming in front of the entire assembly until Jesse sees and runs to pick him up and take him out. we go back to the kid room, the entire kid program stops again to offer suggestions of how to sooth our hysterical 2-year old. 

We have managed to derail 2 church services in as many minutes. 

So we resort to crackers and a field outside. The baby is starting to get fussy and I don't have a stroller, so I resort to the old rocking the car seat to sleep method as I use the other hand to try and entertain the 2 year old.

I was angry. Why did I even leave the house today? Why am I stuck doing the ONLY job I hate all the time. I know this is mommy  blasphemy. But I would rather clean bathrooms or give an impromptu speech then try and keep a 2 year old and a baby happy. I HATE THIS. 

I was telling Jesse this an hour later as we sat under a tree eating our flaky meat pastry called Burek...

Why do other people's struggles seem 'uncomfortable' and I feel like I am often foaming at the mouth? It's not that I think my job is objectively harder, it is simply harder FOR ME. Like putting an art student in the army or a shy kid as class president. I SUCK AT THIS LITTLE KID THING. 

Why do other people 'use their spiritual gifts' to serve God, or 'honor God with their talents' while I seethe in the Montenegrin sun with little need factories that my own body created?

"Because God wants to bless you honey" my husband answers sincerely.

I know it's true, and I reply honestly..."I don't want to be blessed".

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It's the truth that defines every sin in my life. I don't want blessing. I want control. I want my story, not God's. 

Just the day before it happened again. throughout the day, if my temper is short, I think, "I will try and be nicer to Jesse today" after six years of this NOT WORKING AT ALL, I see that God does not honor my 'effort'. You see, what has happened to me, growing up in church, I just trade in mysuper ugly sins, for more culturally acceptable ones. So instead of being openly mean to my husband, I opt for self-righteous effort. Self-righteousness is always the sneakiest sin, that's why it lives in our churches. It is simply a fruit of my flesh putting on pretty clothes while it rots underneath. 

I have realized submitting my life to the spirit of God through the Gospel is the only thing that can change my heart, and then my behavior. 

"I should make an effort to be nicer to Jesse today"....The Spirit's reply...

"To do that you will have to submit your plans, your identity, your life to me so I can give it back to you producing a gratitude that will outshine the selfish, will outshine even the 'effort' out of your own heart"

pause.

"No thanks". I reply. I don't want to be nice THAT badly.

I don't want to be blessed.

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Our whole redemptive story hinges on us saying yes to Blessing, Yes to God.

Read this amplified version of 2 Corinthians 1:20...

²⁰ For as many as are the promises of God, they all find their Yes [answer] in Him [Christ]. For this reason we also utter the Amen (so be it) to God through Him [in His Person and by His agency] to the glory of God.

His promises and blessing are hidden in our 'yes' to Christ's gift, and our "so be it" to God the father's plan for us. 

We are all trying so incredibly hard to exist for our own glory.

Our search for self-identity consumes us, WE STRIVE, because striving is the only thing one solitary soul can do on its own without Identity in the I AM.

But, if we say yes to who He is, the Glory and Gift, we die to that solitary self perception.

Then, who we really are in Christ emerges from this 'Yes' to Christ and 'Amen' to the Story.

His story calls me out: It calls my well intended efforts, vanity, my 'ministry', idolatry, my death...necessary. 

The story that says my death is His Glory,

The story that loves me to death.

Do you want to be blessed?

My Vacation Needs a Vacation:

Needing grace even on (especially on) Vacation

In high school me and my best friends would always go to the Florida for spring break. We ate, whatever we wanted, went to the beach all day, laid around, came back to the condo, laid around some more! I was one hundred percent about me and my needs unless i was passing the tanning oil to Nicole Payne. I remember in those days I had a vague desire 'to get a quiet time done' on the beach, The week would end, and I had barely acknowledged that God existed.

Boy has vacation changed in the last 10 years.

I have to be honest with you. Talking about vacation is something missionaries hate doing. It is a huge point of insecurity to me who fancies herself international super Christian. Guess what? I need vacations. Not just that. I need them about 10 times more than I ever needed them in America. Guess what else. What would cost you a trillion dollars to do. Our family can do with about 200. because, well we already live in the most beautiful country in the world and their tends to be about a 50% immediate discount when you speak the local language. What's even more amazing is, more often than not, people just give us the money because they want to bless us. It's awesome, truly awesome. but I would trade it all to sit down with my sister for coffee or watch my sons play with their cousins for one hour. 

So just know. this might be hard for you to read. know this, it's much harder to write.

"life is hard, Vacations are so refreshing" = American Andrea.

"Life is freaking impossible, vacations are hard, we need them anyways"

 - Montenegrin Andrea

The other day I compared living overseas with treading water. When you are in your own culture, you are simply coasting (like in a boat) ALL. THE. TIME.  Your life is knowable and you can face challenges knowing your resources and expectations. When you live in a different culture it takes effort to do EVERYTHING. So instead of sitting in a boat, You are treading water. Sometimes you feel like your drowning, but that's not even the worst part,  The worst part is when you look around and you know YOU WILL NEVER GET a break. as long as I live here, life will be exhausting. I will be treading water forever. 

It is a feeling i never had in America. So it is hard to explain. I can relate it to the feeling you have as a mother of X number of kids and it's the middle of the night and you think that the kid needs will NEVER end. It's kind of like that. 

That being said, vacation can become one of those drowning moments. But Ironically enough, you need some variety, and drowning IS at least eventful...

 in America about every 2-3 weeks we are celebrating something: birthdays, Easter, Mothers day There is a rhythm already set up that we all dance to. It keeps our lives interesting and fun and our souls fed. When we moved to Montenegro and there was this LOOONNNGGG silence. We Wake up on Easter and it's no one Else's Easter in the whole county, do I wear a pretty dress? do we have a one family egg hunt? We wake up on Labor day, and we are not camping in a tent with out extended family. No Cakes. No fireworks. No Hobby Lobby busting with seasonal decor. NO NOTHING.No family, no cultural rituals,  NADA! it begins to wear on your soul. HARD. 

 We realized at some point we needed to start celebrating something or we would go insane.

 So the first year I studied Jewish celebrations, I saw the every culture has similar themes and rhythms of when they celebrate, so I took all that and boiled it down to a few celebrations,. Then, I appointed myself the Family Celebration Coordinator (aka 'mom') and committed to help our family celebrate Christ at the turning of the seasons. It has been a fun journey, where before was a 'oh I guess we are having an Easter egg hunt' is now: "What the heck does the resurrection really mean to our family?" Being more intentional about our family values is wonderfully exhausting.

but also...

It's hard. I have to practice it. I am tired, My tired is tired, I don't want to pack, I want to watch Gilmore Girls and do nothing. It's a discipline, it's not something we want, we NEED it.

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I used to sit in the North Georgia mountains and think "This is nice, I deserved break"

 Now I'm realizing when you stop thinking your deserve something, you can accept it as a gift

=

GOSPEL

So I planned the " Soren's Birthday/Rash Hashanah (Jewish New Year) Coming of fall) vacation. We had some previous experience of vacationing with little ones. Where normally I would GO CHEAP for like a week, with our family it works to GO LESS CHEAP for like 2 days. By the third day our kids start to wig anyways, and sitting in a dingy one bedroom hotel room while your kids take crazy 'no naps' is very close to a scene from Paradise Lost. So we find deals, then go big(ish) for 2 days. This time we went to one touristy place for one night with the castles and the pretend shopping (and tons of foreigners speaking ENGLISH) and then we went to a secluded small village on the water that is my absolute favorite place for one night. 

Foolproof right? how could this not be fun? We had a blast the first day. We even got to grill outside which was my 'nod' to camping. I LOVE camping, but it wasn't in the cards this time. It was my "hey camping, i still love and miss you, see you in 5 years meal'. it was FUN. 

               

*Sometimes 'mom hair' looks like a fancy wedding up-do.

sometimes.

We lounged at cafes as much as you can 'lounge' with three kids three and under. The locals showered our kids with tons of candy and kisses, they let (and encourage) my kid to STEAL ice cream cones, so he just keeps doing it. 

 *Track suits are standard issue dress code in Podgorica

That first night was a little 'we have 4 people sleeping in one room' kinda night. I was fighting a cold. I woke up the next morning and was soooo tired. Coffee... nothing, so I downed a cappuccino but could still feel my body slowly give way to exhaustion.

                  *We use instant coffee in eastern Europe, I used little baggies to make myself 'coffee packs' for the hotel.

 I thought I was so clever.

 By 10am I began to get a little foggy, the foggy turned to snappy, While Jesse played on a playground with the boys, I actually laid down on a park bench. Something you DO NOT DO in Montenegro. By the time we checking into our room in the second town I was delirious and the kids are acting insane because we are on day two and they were hyped up on candy and stolen ice-creme cones. This was our 'nice hotel' so we only had 1 room total. 

Candy Crazy kids at nap time + deliriously tired mommy +  one room = Disaster

Jesse tried to take Soren away to see if that would help the 2 year old and the baby sleep. That just left me alone in my moment of insanity with two screaming kids. I have never felt crazier in all my life. Honestly guys. I was in the most beautiful room in the universe, in the most beautiful town and the kids are screaming and all I can think about is jumping out the window because that would guarantee me SOME VERSION sleep. It's kind of funny, except it was not, I called Jesse and asked him to come back, knowing there was nothing he could do, nowhere he could take 3 kids by himself. I just knew I was delusional and couldn't be alone with the kids. 

Vacation = Emotional Breakdowns

I sat there on the bed, baby Logan looking at me and Xander calling and screaming "MOMMY MONMMYY MOMMMYY!' from the pack and play a few feet away as the magical Adriatic sun baked wind drift in from our sea view room. I was balling with my hands on my face, (I think Logan thought it was a new game of peek-a-boo.) I wept and cried out to God

 "Please have mercy, Please have mercy, I need a break, not because 'I deserve it', but because of your loving-kindness, I need you to bring beauty to today, I need Your Sabbath Rest."

So you have almost read two pages of my gibbering and we reach the point. My God is Jehovah Jireh. He provides. He make impossible situations lovely. 

We asked the front desk if there was any way we could have a room with a separate bedroom so we could get some sleep. We simply had to act in faith and trust God that he would provide what we needed. They upgraded us to the nicest room they had, and did not charge us a penny extra. When I say nice, I mean like James Bond movie nice. see for yourself...

first room: I soaked that bed in tears. 

 

The Upgrade : 2 Bedroom Suite!

 View from the living room

Private entrance with a private balcony

 View from our Balcony

 

 So yes.  you just read a story about how God gave people who don't 'earn' a living in Europe an EVEN BETTER vacation, because they needed it. I keep expecting His grace to end at some point (like at the point where we have a one bedroom sea view hotel) but his mercy ENDURES forever. He does not only respond to my neediness, but embracing my pathetic is the only true way to live and breath G-O-S-P-E-L.  Except your life as a gift. Call out to God in need, from a place of total humility and watch the miracles the unfold before your eyes. 

The Lord says, “I will rescue those who love me. I will protect those who trust in my name. When they call on me, I will answer; I will be with them in trouble. I will rescue and honor them. I will reward them with a long life and give them my salvation.” 
Psalm 90

and last. a quote from Derek Webb...
 "you’re never going to be truly filled with joy unless you truly know yourself for who you really are. And until you are a real sinner with a real Savior, you will be a hypothetical and theoretical sinner – and therefore, with a hypothetical and theoretical savior.
But if you can’t honestly put your finger on one sin you’ve committed all day because your view of sin has become nothing more than this cultural hiding game, then you’re not experiencing real joy. Because if all I can confess is a knowledge of how sin has affected me, but not any of my real sins – if I don’t really know that I’m sinful – then I don’t truly know, and I’m not truly encouraged by the fact that I’ve been saved. Because, saved from what? If I’m not really sinful then what’s the big deal? What’s the good news? It’s just news.
But if you know yourself as exposed by the cross, then I believe you will begin to experience true joy. Because you will not constantly be looking over your shoulder all the time – constantly checking the knots in this great suit of fig leaves that you’ve sewn for yourself. But rather, you will be comfortably exposed in your sin and boasting in your great Savior because he is real.
Charles Spurgeon once said, “If your sin is small then your Savior will be small also. But if your sin is great, then your Savior must be great.”