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Beauty on the Backroads

Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns

faith & spirituality

Costly decisions

October 15, 2012

Two summers ago, the kids and I were spending two weeks sandwiched between wedding events in Illinois while my husband worked and attended class in Pennsylvania. On one of those days, our son, who was not yet 2, had a miserable ear infection, we suspected. So, we took him to an urgent care clinic where he was poked in the ear, and gagged in the throat (checking for strep) and eventually diagnosed with an ear infection. Medicine prescribed and we were on our way.

At the time, we had low-income insurance for our kids in Pennsylvania, which pays for doctors’ visits and prescriptions. I had no idea what an urgent care visit would cost, but we had to do something.

A few months later, we got the bill. Yikes! It took us a few months to pay it and reminded me that decisions, even good ones, seldom happen without a cost.

I’ve been thinking about this a lot the last few days. My husband and I are college-educated and essentially unemployed. We’re job hunting without much success. We’re raising two passionate, stubborn, creative kids. We’re hundreds of miles from family. We’re sure of the next step, until we’re not. We’re hoping. And doubting. And waiting. And searching. And trying to explain what’s on our hearts.

I read these words from Oswald Chambers (Mary DeMuth quoted him in her new book Everything: What you give and what you gain to become like Jesus, which I will review here in a couple of weeks) and they say everything, encouraging me to press on with this unpredictable journey.

If we obey God it is going to cost other people more than it costs us, and that is where the sting comes in. We can disobey God if we choose, and it will bring immediate relief to the situation, but shall be a grief to our Lord. Whereas if we obey God, He will look after those who have been pressed into the consequences of our obedience. We have simply to obey and leave all consequences with Him.

Moving to Pennsylvania has been hard on our family and extended family. But it has been the best thing for our growth. Seminary was the hardest four years of our lives. But it has planted seeds in our hearts that have yet to show their fruit. Having two kids less than two years apart has been nothing short of insanity. And even though I want to escape some days, I wouldn’t trade away the lessons we’ve learned or the little people who have invaded our hearts and our lives.

Life doesn’t always make sense. It’s not making sense to us right now. But we know what we know. And we know what we’re supposed to do. We just don’t yet know the “how” of all of it.

These decisions, these steps of faith, they’ve not been made lightly. They’ve cost us plenty. But if we hadn’t taken them, we’d have lost so much more.

Please, pray for us. And with us.

We have counted the cost and found obedience to Christ worth everything, even the loss of all we know.

Now we count on Him to carry us.

Filed Under: faith & spirituality Tagged With: counting the cost, decisions, following God when it doesn't make sense, God's will, obedience, surrender, unemployment

Safe travels

October 9, 2012

I drove today. Nothing shocking in that statement; I just had a lot of time to think. None of us left the house for any reason yesterday, which was a rare treat. Still, there are days I wish we had somewhere to go.

When I worked for newspapers, I did a lot of driving. Not a truck driver’s worth of driving  or anything, but more than I was used to on a regular basis. I usually enjoy the chance to let my mind wander and ponder. On many nights driving home from a late school board meeting, I’d write the story in my head so I’d have less work to do when I got to the office. Now, I find that I do most of my in-head writing while I’m washing dishes. I suppose I should be thankful for all the dishes needing washed. The novel I’m working on takes on new dimensions every time I find myself tethered to the sink with a mound of dirty dishes.

I’ve become sort of a homebody. Almost hermitish. If I don’t have to go somewhere, I don’t look for excuses. Home is comfortable. And safe.

© Xposeld | Dreamstime.com

But I’m starting to miss the movement. I want to be on my way. Our family feels a little stuck right now. Like when I was on my way today, stopped in single-lane traffic around a curve in a construction zone not-so-patiently waiting my turn. I’m always sure that just when I pull up to the flagger holding the sign, he’s going to flip it to “stop.” That’s what life feels like, a little. Just when we feel like we’re going somewhere, God says “wait.” Or “stop.” And we sit there, letting all the oncoming traffic pass us by.On the way home, at the same construction zone, I got behind a dump truck when it was our direction’s turn to use the single lane. Part way through the zone, the dump truck pulled off to the construction side of the road and I found myself eerily alone on the one-lane road. And I thought how much trust I had placed in the flaggers to do their job and not send a horde of oncoming traffic into my path. The same is true for this zone of life we’re in. I have to trust that God can see what’s around the bend and when He flips the sign telling us it’s time to go, we can trust that we won’t be headed for a nasty crash.

Trust. So easy to talk about. So hard to live out.

As I planned my route into a city I’m not so familiar with, my husband gave me an alternate route that tested my sense of adventure. I’m forever terrified of getting lost in a “foreign” city with no one to rescue me. I’ve taken enough wrong turns–literally and figuratively–in life to make me want to avoid them at all costs. My sense of direction and driving instincts are pretty good, but sometimes I panic and take the wrong turn because I don’t trust myself to know the right way.

But I made it to my destination. Even parked in a parking garage and crossed the street to the coffee shop like a big girl. I never thought of myself as a country bumpkin but every time I have to pay for parking or dodge traffic to cross the street, I’m reminded of just how much rural there is in my system. (I’m by no means a farm girl, either. I live somewhere in between city and country.)

Trusting. Pushing boundaries. Leaving what’s comfortable. Taking a new path.

All of this plays in to the current chapter of our story. It doesn’t solve anything. But it fuels me for the continuing journey.

I’m still not sure where God is taking us, but I know we’re safe in His hands.

Filed Under: faith & spirituality, Travel Tagged With: driving, driving a car, life journey, road construction, single lane traffic, travel

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Hi. I’m Lisa, and I’m glad you’re here. If we were meeting in real life, I’d offer you something to eat or drink while we sat on the porch letting the conversation wander as it does. That’s a little bit what this space is like. We talk about books and family and travel and food and running, whatever I might encounter in world. I’m looking for the beauty in the midst of it all, even the tough stuff. (You’ll find a lot of that here, too.) Thanks for stopping by. Stay as long as you like.

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