A couple months ago, a friend told me, "I wish I had the faith that you and Paul have." You wanna know how I responded? I laughed. I cannot tell you how done I am. But Done. Tired. Not really standing anymore, just hunkered down until the month is over. You know what happens when you start hunkering down in your faith journey? You turn to logic.
Logic. It’s right there- it’s beautiful. It makes sense. It offers clarity and comfort.
Logic. Just choose it. Can’t you see it? It’s close enough to taste when everything else falters. Beyond tempting- give all this chaos up and do something that feels wrong, but looks oh-so-right. Do it so people can see us and say, “Summer and Paul are doing pretty well for themselves." Because here, we are not. We are being tossed like broken buoys, our one consolation is that God gave us permission to just go. He has given us permission to pursue passion. Either the pursuit is reckless, or all of hell has broken lose- maybe a bit of both. Today I tread barefoot through a damp yard and braved a swarm of buzzing bees to steal a grapefruit off our prolifically producing tree. When I pricked it off the tree, I almost cried at the thought, “I wish we had an orange tree.” I know it sounds like discontentment, and maybe it is. This just isn’t what I thought. Following my dreams isn’t what I thought. After I consented to enjoy it nonetheless, it wasn’t quite ripe. I almost cried at that thought too, because I feel like I should be ripe by now! Ripen, spirit! It would take a textbook for me to record what I have felt up against, and yet, I’m still here. As I enjoyed my grapefruit with a sprinkling of coconut sugar on top, I took a deep breath. I tried to recall all the reasons I thought I was ripe, even if God isn’t finished with me yet. Even if the enemy hasn’t relented. I decided to thank God for my grapefruit, and then, think of all the wisdom plenty God has supplied in a season of lack. So here it goes.
The storehouses always surprise me.
I don’t even fully know what this means, but the Lord spoke it while I prepared a meal plan for this week. I went into my pantry and I had much more than I remembered. Not to mention, it was exactly what I needed. One more bag of rye flour to sour for a couple of days and make bread. Frozen meat stashed in the farthest corner. Tons of beans. I went to make the kids granola bars, and in the process of digging through snack remains, I found coconut shreds, raw sunflower seeds, flax seeds, and sesame seeds. Even though my budget was cut in half for this week, I realized that we would eat just as well because of what I had stored. Take that, poverty mentality! It pays off to stock up. Well, and God really does know what you need before you ask.
You will survive.
Do you know how many weeks I have rolled out of the bed into expecting to be evicted…expecting to run out of food…expecting to be pulled over by a cop because my car is out of registration…expecting for Paul to be denied his opportunity to go on the missions trip…expecting to run out of gas…expecting for Paul to be kicked out of school because we are 2 days past the due date for payment...expecting the worst, expecting the mere reality of our predicament. But it doesn’t happen- ever. And no, I can’t figure it out, or offer any logical sort of explanation. Let’s just say, there is a God, and miracles do happen.
God is not a genie, and He doesn’t answer prayers the way you think He will.
Several weeks ago, I sat in my car and cried. I begged God to make a way for me to get my car registered. We were stuck in a tension between having to get Paul’s car done, and then mine. Paul had gotten a ticket for his which had a deadline for registration or a large ticket fee. Given the deadlines, we decided to invest our money in his car first. Except, it failed smog- twice. Long story short, neither car got registered, and we had to pay the ticket fine. So I prayed that I would have a car that was legal to drive. The next week, a friend called and offered us her mini-van for free. They had purchased a new car, and their mini-van had been given to them, so they passed it onto us. While my car is out of commission for the time being, the mini-van is a dream come true and works wonderfully. And it’s legal for me to drive, hallelujah! Just know, His blessings sometimes come in the form of rainbows and sunsets, exact and timely prophetic words, or your kids spotting angels in the house, getting their prayer languages and asking to be baptized. It’s all His provision.
God doesn’t care if you look like an idiot.
Ok, maybe He does care. It’s my job to remain grounded in what He has called me to. It is so hard. Oh, I cannot even tell you how difficult this mandate is, to stand on His promise when everything else around you says you’re a failure. You’re walking through the desert and God is nodding His cosmic head at you- You’re exactly where I want you. Sure, there is freedom to run away from it all. But there is also an opportunity to make a voluntary sacrifice, to lay face down at the cross and proclaim He is worth it all. He is so worth it, as is the prize of radical obedience. It’s about more than what you get on the other side, it’s an inheritance for an entire generation. To stand on the promises of God, allowing Him to cultivate such a counter-cultural faith in your heart, and to learn to dwell in a moment with Him and not look forward or backwards- just dwell, those are skills of lasting value. Not that I have attained them all, as Apostle Paul says, but I press forward.
Giving sets you free from fear.
Whenever we feel afraid of finances, we give. Sometimes it’s just one dollar, though I can still remember a couple months ago when we had our last $10 crumbled in the bottom of Paul's wallet and he admitted he took a beggar to Mcdonalds and split lunch with him. It’s just habit now, it’s our mantra: we serve God, not money. If money makes us anxious, we do something generous. This week, when I went grocery shopping, I planned in advance to take a friend dinner. Paul was like, “Are you sure…,” but it’s another habit I’ve started, planning to have a family over every week or take a family dinner. It’s a stretch for us in this realm, but it’s another way to trust God and stand on the promise of His provision. And I have never seen Him not provide enough.
Faith in the trenches; standing in the storm. The ultimate lesson I have learned is that He is enough, and relationship with my Father God is the prize of it all. Even when I want desperately to cry, retreat, or just stop fighting with my husband about the tension of our crazy life- we both know how to ask for what we really need, “Can I go to the prayer chapel for an hour?” There, I am reminded that I’m not really poor, and I’m not a failure either. I am a daughter; a powerful person. I am rich in Heavenly Places, and I don’t lack. Then I remember a most imperative truth, this life is temporary. And everything-all of this- is all about Him and the glory due Him. It’s about Love. It's about a testimony of survival in the desert, against all odds, reminding me why His name is Faithful. Even in the trenches, imagine rain and muck, the enemy’s bellowing cry at me to surrender already, I whisper to my soul I am already the victor. That is the secret to faith in the trenches.
