With September came the day that my husband’s brother and his family moved to Papua New Guinea. Not even a month after Elly was born, but still far more than we had hoped that they would see her. Even though we had waited and prayed with them and even though we rejoiced when they had raised their funds, having them live all the way on the other side of the world has been hard. And if that had been the only change, the only certainty of September, I think it would have been enough. But it wasn’t.
September also saw a relief, a confirmation that we were at the right church and with the right people.
It came in more ways than just one. And it brought more questions that answers.
The house we have been renting for over four years now is for sale. Knowing that we are called to this area and these people has led to us looking for a house to buy. Which leads to questions like where and when and how.
And if we are specifically called to work with this church, then what does that look like? How do we love them? How are we actively pursuing relationships…and not just leading?
We are slowly finding the answers to these questions. Some have been answered almost instantly while others have led to further questions, times of questioning, and even harder confirmations.
And we are still looking for a house.
I am realizing, too, that when God calls for obedience, He makes a way.
I would never have dreamed of writing down all of this before September. I didn’t want to. It was too hard and too long. But I said yes because I knew that God was leading me.
I’m not going to sugar coat this: writing this series has been so. hard. It’s drained me, not because I have nothing to say but because I have learned to be obedient when I don’t want to be. I have learned to be obedient when it’s not convenient. I have learned what it means to be obedient when it hurts, when it’s uncomfortable, and when the result makes me shake in my boots.
I have learned to be obedient when I’d rather not. I have learned to share my posts out of obedience and courage, not out of self-conceit. I have learned that being uncomfortable can be freeing because it usually means that I’m being myself. As God intended. (The other option is wearing a mask and hiding who I am, and I’ve done that for most of my life, so no thanks.)
I can’t say that I won’t ever hide again. Online or in real life. It’s my default setting, and I’m not a fast learner when it comes to relearning how to live.
But when I’m honest with myself, it’s easier to accept the gifts and talents God has given to me than it is to hide and ignore them. Some of them are awesome, like knitting. Some, though, just scare me. Like writing. For people to read publicly.
May God somehow work all of this for my good and His glory.
This post is part of a 31 Days series on Raising My Ebenezer, part of my story and my own testimony of God’s goodness and faithfulness. As the song Come Thou Fount says, “Here I raise my Ebenezer, hither by Thine help I’m come.” For the month of October, I’ll be writing our story, outlining the Ebenezers in recognition of His mighty hand on our lives. His doings and His workings because of and sometimes in spite of our best efforts. My hope is that you’ll see a lot of Him and little to none of me. Because in the end, it is by His help that we have come this far.