Honoring her because she honored Jesus...

It’s been a year. It’s been a year since I’ve seen her round face and strong dimples. It’s been a year since I’ve heard her sweet, gentle voice call my name.

As I sat on the plane, headed to her house, all I wanted to do was crawl up on her bed and tell her all the things that she missed this year. My first year of marriage to the most wonderful man, my new job and our new apartment. She missed multiple shoe shopping expeditions and candy runs... mostly because I didn’t do them since she wasn’t here. The plan this weekend was to do all the things that we would have done if she were here: buy a pair of shoes... preferably on sale. (If they are cheap enough, she’d tell me to buy two!) Go to the candy store and buy one of every kind that I like because life is too short to just choose ONE. Go to the dollar store and buy a good pen... or maybe a few pens and figure out which one is the best. Buy a bowl or a plate or a cup. Really whatever is pretty. It doesn’t have to match what I already have because it’s more about it being beautiful than matching. Watch a good cooking show and maybe go get a taco at 10:00 at night just because the craving came to me. The plan was to eat good food and not feel guilty about the calories, because let’s be honest: calories at Gramma’s house don’t count. Finally, I wanted to read about the goodness of the Lord and pour over his psalms highlighting places where he talks about heaven and healing because she has journals upon journals that do the same.

Yet, there are some things that are impossible to do. Drive all the way into downtown because we missed our exit due to excessive talking and laughing. Fall asleep next to her on her bed while we watch some crazy action movie. Recount old memories or days gone by. Watch back to back dollar movies to fill an entire afternoon.

Let’s just say I tried to do all of these things to no avail. I TRIED to go buy a pair of shoes, but couldn’t find one that I really liked. I TRIED to go buy 20 pieces of different kids of candy, but the Target we always went to has since gotten rid of that section of the store. I TRIED to go buy a pretty bowl, but Ross had a line with literally 100 people in it (and I would have had to find the FIND OF THE CENTURY to get me to stand in it). I walked away from Saturday a bit sad that I couldn't honor Grammee this way. But then mom put it all into perspective: if I could hear from Grammee right now, she would tell me to store up my treasures in heaven because at the end of life, they are just shoes gaining dust in a closet.

I guess it boils down to this: I always want to remember. I vividly remember the talks we would have about boys and how I shouldn’t keep secrets from my mom. I remember peeking into her room and she would be pouring over Scripture. I remember that she would get on facebook just to keep in touch with her grandkids. The woman I remember, I never want to forget, because I hope one day to be just like that woman.

Thank you Grammee for showing me how to walk with Jesus... miss you Grams.

Stuck

Do you ever get stuck? You find yourself sinking slowly in the muck and mire of mediocrity. The more you try to struggle and MAKE yourself care about things that are outside yourself, the less you actually care and the more stuck you feel. It's not like anything is that bad. In fact, nothing is truly bad, it's all just... fine. When people ask you, "How are you?" Your response is "fine" and you mean it. Things aren't great and aren't bad, there just FINE - and there you are, stuck.

I found myself in just this position the other day. Honestly, I thought to myself, I would rather things be AWFUL than mediocre. My walk with the Lord had gotten to a place that I didn't like. You guessed it, fine. When things have been difficult in life, I have clung to the Lord for dear life because I had no other choice. When I was lost, I needed the good Shepherd. When I was broken, I went to see the perfect Doctor. I have so many memories of trying desperately to learn Spanish or having to plead with the Lord to move my lips to make sense out of the Spanish Bible study I was trying to lead. Dependance comes easy when I was in a new Ecuadorian culture and environment or when I get myself to a place that I literally cannot take even a baby step without falling on my face. But what do I do when I'm living in Dallas, work at a place that I've been for two years and find myself comfortable? I trust myself and life quickly becomes insignificant.

On Sunday, I cried out to the Lord and said, "I don't like FINE!" As we sat together, the Lord opened my eyes to something I had forgotten: to be thankful. These things that seemed ordinary just five minutes before became fountains of praise as I thanked the Lord for the ability to work at a place where I can share the gospel, pray for my amazing co-workers and see the love of Jesus lived out. It just wouldn't stop... how could I take for granted a group of amazing girlfriends who encourage me in my walk with Jesus and love to dig into the Word with me? Where would I be without our amazing Home Group who have stepped into our lives and let us into theirs? This time of praise could not end without thanking the Lord for an amazing partner in ministry. A man who rubs my feet when I'm sick, laughs with me until I cry, and shares adventure with me.

I walked away from this time with the Lord with a renewed sense of gratitude for life and ministry, but still wanting my walk with the Lord to be transformed. Like my friend Rhonda told me yesterday, "When you ask the Lord for something that he already wants to give you, he is MORE than happy to grant your request!" I went to church on Sunday waiting to truly hear from the Lord and that I did. Matt made this statement about the church at Ephesus: They didn't know how to pretend yet. They didn't know how to "play church" and "play fine." If they were lost and confused, they said so. If they were struggling, they made it obvious. As the church, we learn how to pretend. In doing so do ourselves and those around us a disservice. The Ephesians hid behind doctrine and lost their love and affection for Christ. Matt's question was this: Have you lost your affection for Jesus?

I'm choosing not to pretend - my answer is yes. I know how to study and how to dig into his Word (though I haven't been doing it much), but I have forgotten how much I truly LOVE Jesus. So I asked him to change that - to stir up my affection for Him.

In the past 3 days, this is what he has done: He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand. (Psalm 40:2)

He has renewed my outlook on life and reignited my affections. Thank you Jesus!

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.