A year with my best friend

Things seem so important in the moment, don't they? Will the wedding cake get there on time? Does my hair look right? What about makeup? And flowers and food and... as I look back to the day I married my best friend, things are a little more clear. I remember the crystal clear moments were my friends stood by me through the freaking out and the falling tears. I remember the people who made sure everything was beautiful and just perfect set in place. I remember my family overjoyed for being a part of my special day. But most of all, I remember my best friend saying I do. The moment we kissed feels like a blur. Walking down the aisle and saying, "We're married!" feels like it was yesterday.
This past year we have gone through a lot of change. We've moved downtown, hit the half-way mark of Seminary, changed jobs, joined an awesome small group and the list goes on and on. But Steven and I are used to change... I hate it, he loves it. We both view it as an adventure. We have definitely been on an adventure our first year of marriage and I can honestly say I've come out of the first year more in love, more comfortable, more of myself than I have ever been with anyone.
I think the thing that has surprised me the most about being married to Steven is how much we laugh and how many inside jokes we have together. In the coming year we are going to have to answer some huge questions together... the biggest being: what's next? Steven graduates, Lord willing in December of this year. After that, we're not sure what the Lord has planned. One thing we are sure of: we're in it together.
So now one year later, the cake, flowers, programs, and dresses seem much less critical. The cake has been eaten (last 2 cupcakes were eaten on December 18, 2011!), the flowers are wilted, but thank God it's not about the details of the wedding that are important, but the strength of the marriage. Here's to 2012 and the adventure the Lord has planned. Steven Andrew Rungaitis, I am the luckiest woman in the world to have you as a husband!

Minutes

Elizabeth, one of our third grade teachers at West Dallas Community School always has great stories for me, especially about Timothy. About a month ago he said to her, "Miss Johnson, I think my digestive system is going in reverse." What third grader do you know who speaks like that? I think Elizabeth probably thought he was just trying to use some big words he had learned, but low and behold Timothy was throwing up in the nearest trash can just 20 minutes later.
Timothy isn't a bad kid by any means, he's just squirmy. He gets in trouble for talking in class or leaving his hand on top of his head. Discipline comes in the form of minutes, minutes taken off his playtime. One day particularly, he had had a rough day and had lost all his minutes at playtime. While Elizabeth was calling the 3rd grade to come in, Timothy ran up to her and said, "Miss Johnson, can I take someone else's minutes?" Puzzled, Elizabeth replied, "Why would you want to do that Timothy?" He answered: "So I would know what it was like to be Jesus taking on the sin of the world."

I think he's getting it, don't you?

It's easier said than done

It's easy to say and hard to do. "If you're going to really engage people, you have to be willing to get messy" is easy for me to spout off and sound like a great minister of the Gospel, but to actually step into people's filth is a completely different story.
Steven and I have made it our habit to have a running list of people we pray for every night before we go to bed. There are some that we pray would find a true relationship with Jesus, others we pray that the the Lord would ignite a fire that has grown dim and then there are our missionaries that we love and pray that the Lord would walk along side them during difficult and dark times.
Something unexpected seems to happen when we pray, God moves. You're thinking: Isn't that what you were asking him to do? YES... and no. YES, we're asking him to move, but NO I don't like how uncomfortable he makes ME stick my hands in their filth.
My husband loves dirt... and I mean actual dirt. He has no problem getting down and dirty to help other people out. He'll be the first one under the hood of a car and the last one to leave when a mess is left. One day on the way to the airport, Steven saw a woman stranded on the side of the road. We were already late, but that did not bother him. His first concern was that this woman was ok. He almost missed his flight. This is Steven.

I, on the other hand want to be a comfortable minister of the Gospel, and to be honest that is not how the Lord intended it. He called Paul to be imprisoned, stoned and beat for his faith, why? "So that whether by life or death, Christ might be glorified in my body." Oh how I struggle with this concept. I want to be comfortable! I want to tell stories of how dirty life is without getting dirty myself.
Through the people we pray for, we have gotten many opportunities to get dirty and to invest into the lives of others. It has been painful to love people through their self-destructing habits, but my husband has taught me something. Speak truth, even when it hurts. It's like scrubbing an infected wound - healing cannot happen if soap and elbow grease isn't applied. Steven's heart for the Gospel and making Jesus knows in dark places in nothing short of admirable. He listens when people need to be heard but speaks truth when it needs to be spoken all so that Christ would be glorified.
Thank you Lord for giving me a man who loves and follows after you, even when it's messy.

Looking back...

"Each of you is to take up a stone on his shoulder, according to the number of the tribes of the Israelites, to serve as a sign among you. In the future, when your children ask you, ‘What do these stones mean?’ tell them that the flow of the Jordan was cut off before the ark of the covenant of the LORD. When it crossed the Jordan, the waters of the Jordan were cut off. These stones are to be a memorial to the people of Israel forever.” (Joshua 4: 6)
We must look back in order to remember. This weekend, the Lord walked me through my major milestones to show me his constant grace in my life.
As I sat in church yesterday at Baptism Sunday, Steve, our pastor said "As you hear the stories of those in the water, may you be reminded of your salvation story." Sitting and listening to these 4 people vulnerably sharing their struggles and how they "grew up in a Christian home" but never truly understood the gospel, I was rocketed back into my own childhood. It was as if I was looking at my six-year-old self sitting on the toilet praying for Jesus to be my Savior. Skipping ahead a few months, I remember playing with a little girl on a California beach telling her all about my Jesus. Some people look back on their childhood conversion as something they were talked into or didn't understand, but I look back and see how the Gospel of Jesus Christ truly transformed my life, even at a young age. THERE the Lord saved me.
After each passed through the waters of baptism, a pastor stood up to talk about Jesus' baptism and more important still, his temptation in the desert. He pointed out that Satan was after Jesus' identity and immediately, I was launched back to my college door room where I sat on the floor crying out to God asking him who I was. Who am I?! I said, partially out of frustration and partially out of fear. I felt so lost. I remember so clearly the gentle whisper of the Father, You are my daughter, so that makes you a princess. Are you acting like it? That moment was a reality check on so many levels. I believe it was when the Lord called me to a real purpose, to follow hard after him. It was then that I decided to get my tattoo as a reminder of my identity - a princess, a daughter of the King. THERE the Lord gave me identity.
As we went into worship and sang two of my favorite songs that I picked for my own wedding, I was reminded of the joy that I felt and the love that engulfed me the day I was married almost 10 months ago. That day reminds me of my commitment to my husband but more so, it reminds me of what one of those songs cries out: When we arrive on eternities shores where death is just a memory and tears are no more. We'll enter in as the wedding bells ring. Your bride will come together and we'll sing, you're beautiful. THERE the Lord gave me a glimpse into his love for me, his bride.
There are high points and low points in my walk with Christ. I look back on some with great joy at how he has grown me and yet others still bring me pain if I examine them too closely. Either way, I will not stop putting these markers in the ground to remind myself of the God I serve. The challenge: to remember to LOOK at those markers and say, THERE the Lord was faithful... and that will not change today, tomorrow or for eternity.

Sometimes it's hard...

If you have followed me at all over the past couple of years, you know by now that I hate change. I LOVE getting the hang of things. I LOVE feeling at home and knowing what I'm doing. Jesus seems to LOVE CHANGE. The month of September has not been easy. As most of you know, I started a new job in July as the Volunteer Director for West Dallas Community School so that means CHANGE and a lot of it.
This past two weeks, I have had to organize and create handouts, PowerPoint, and the like for 3 separate events. I am the perfectionist who wants it all to be just SO... and everything was not just SO. It was crazy and out of control. By Tuesday afternoon, when Steven so lovingly walked into my office to surprise me, I was two seconds from breaking down into a puddle of tears.
BUT I got it together, figured stuff out and kept going. By Wednesday, it was coming together and I as feeling confident and becoming more ready, so I was expecting what came next.
At Elder-led prayer at church that night, we sang the words, "Lord you are faithful." By the third time, I whispered to Jesus, "I still feel so weak." As the music played, tears rolled down my checks and he whispered back, "I like you that way."
By this point a good cry had been coming for quite a while so I just sobbed and sang, lifting my hands to Jesus and confessing my inadequacy.
The events are now over and life is settled (for the moment!). So now I sit here and wonder when will I ever truly learn that I am not in control. Over and over again I somehow think I can strong arm my way into making things happen the way I want. Have I not grown up at all? Wasn't I struggling with this exact same thing when I moved back to the States or when I started life in Ecuador or started ANYTHING new for that matter?

Yes... so as frustrating as it is to have to learn, yet again, I remind myself that I AM growing and that slowly (ever so slowly) the Lord is teaching me to be weak and let him be strong.

Let the little children come...

Can a five-year-old change a family? I know one who did. Her mom came into the office the other day to pick up some books and began to share with Mrs. Howard how her daughter has changed their family.
This mom of three never graduated from high school but is now taking the plunge into getting her GED. She explained, "I know how to do most things, but I can't do Math. My husband bought me flash cards to help me learn my multiplication tables." She went on to explain how her daughter has been helping her practice. With the love and encouragement only your child can give, this small girl said to her mom, "You can do it. You just need to practice." Not only that, she daily talks to her mom and twin baby brothers about the fruit of the Spirit. Tears were brought to my eyes when I heard that she said, "I will do whatever I have to do to keep my children at this school because it is changing our family."
"Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these." -Jesus.

I am overjoyed that I get the privilege of helping to pour into the lives of these small children at West Dallas Community School, because it doesn't just change their lives, it impacts all those around them... including me.

UPDATE!

I know life has gotten away from me when I look and see that my last post was the end of May! Summer for teachers means travel and relaxation... for administration it means work in flip flops instead of heels. Too bad I'm not a teacher. BUT my job title has changed. Here's the story: (though its more INFORMATIONAL than anything!)
In March, Steven and I went for a walk just talking about life, school and work. I remember looking at him and saying, "There's only one other job at our school that I would take, the Volunteer Director position." This was more just chatting since the job was already filled by someone. But low and behold, about a month later, the job was OPEN and they were looking for someone. I'll spare you the boring details and just tell you that this process including a lot of the Lord humbling my heart to remind me that this life is FLEETING and that its not about job titles or status, but spreading his gospel and working for his kingdom.
In his graciousness, he has opened the door and I have walked through. You are now looking at the Volunteer Director for West Dallas Community School! Translation is that I am in charge of all the volunteers and shepherds at our school. SO if you're interested in helping out with a bunch of awesome kiddos, let me know!
The excitement over this job has lead into a holy fear of what I have to do and how much work its going to be. Steven constantly reminds me that its about the gospel - sharing it with the kids, with the donors and with myself! If I don't preach the gospel to myself every day, I end up with a skewed version of Christianity... that somehow my GOOD things are saving me or somehow I have attained all the good in my life on my own. When I preach the gospel to myself, I realize NO! If it weren't for the grace of God, I would be lost and dying and in desperate need of a Savior.
So, I humbly step forward into this new adventure of Volunteer Director knowing that God will use it for my good and his glory.
Steven has also stepped into something new in the past month since school has been out. Steven has this great knack of meeting people, especially in Dallas. Since we've moved here in February, he's made great friends with our neighbors upstairs. He's befriended several homeless people (which he knows by name). And has managed to make friends with several store owners in our neighborhood. One of those is Tom Jon. (Yes, he has two first names... I asked too) Tom Jon owns an eclectic shop around the corner from our house where he sells random odds and ends and his own clothing line. For the past several months, Steven goes in to just talk to him about life and Dallas and his store. Last month Tom Jon offered Steven a job the DAY he needed one. We are excited to see how the Lord is using this shop to build friendships with other people in the neighborhood and open the door for the gospel to be spread. I must brag on my husband here for a moment: this man knows how to accept people where they are and at the same time show them the light and love of Jesus.
So, Steven is working at the shop and will start his third (out of five) semester in Seminary in August and I have just started my new job as of last Tuesday. But, wherever we are and whatever we do, we pray that all would see the gospel of Jesus in our lives.