Anything Update. What a Difference a Week Makes.

A week ago I sat teary-eyed on a couch explaining to my bible study group about my invitation to travel to Myanmar (formerly Burma) with two staff members of She is Safe. My tears were the result of an inner turmoil that had been churning for days.

I really want to go, but really couldn't see why I should.  As I hashed out my struggle to decide, one friend finally asked, "So, should we pray that you WILL go, or that you WON'T?"

My response was, "Yes."

The fear factor really wasn't an issue after the initial shock of the invitation.  As I told my friend Katy, I'm pretty much always afraid, so I've learned to mostly charge on in spite of it because I don't want to miss my life.

My reluctance really had more to do with the fact that it is a large chunk of money, and whether it's out of my bank account or the from the generosity of others, it could just go straight to the work of She is Safe and not spent on sending me halfway around the globe.  I wasn't sure (and I'm still not sure) what I have to offer that would justify the expense. In fact, when I first spoke with the adorable woman who will be leading the trip, she encouraged me just to be open to using "whatever special skills I might have" while we are in Myanmar.  I could not think of a single special skill that might be useful.  I'm really nice--which I guess is a skill--?--and I'm great at reading stories aloud to children.  Aaaannnnd that's pretty much it.

As I sit and type this now, one short week later, I'm in a completely different place, feeling that as long as God keeps giving His yes in response to my yes, I'm going to Myanmar. And I'm fairly certain that it is what I'm supposed to do.

So what changed? First, I finished the book Helping Without Hurting, which is required reading for the trip.  (Everyone should read this book, by the way.)   In the book, the authors emphasize that short-term mission trips, to be most effective, need to be in support of long-term, preferably grass-roots efforts run by nationals in the host country.  The author told of the vital importance of visitors engaging and encouraging the field workers they meet, even claiming that such interactions provide far more value to the trip than any physical or material help.  We westerners (like me) want to hit the road and serve, which too often means doing things that local people could do themselves.  We tend to think of going so far just to fellowship as unproductive.   

So false. 

Think about this: in most of the Majority World, Christians are in the minority.  In Myanmar less than five percent of the population is Christian. To be able to meet with believers from across the globe and know that they are not alone, but supported in prayer by brothers and sisters whom they have now met face-to-face and shared meals with---think what an encouragement that is.  Maybe there IS a need for my "talent" for being nice!

The book was instrumental in changing my perspective, but so were people.  My friend Katy and new friend Kristin, who will be my travel partners, have been a huge encouragement just by sharing their experience, wisdom, and confidence.  Even though we can all agree that we have very little idea how I will be of service on this trip, they are certain that I will be a valuable member of the team--and God will show us how.

It has also been an amazing week to sit and see God work.  Before I even got support letters printed and mailed out, I had received over half of the money for the trip in donations from friends excited to be a part.  Given that encouraging sum, the trip leader called me yesterday saying that she felt comfortable going ahead and purchasing my ticket even though I was still a few hundred dollars shy of the full cost.  On faith we went ahead with buying tickets. Within minutes of getting the confirmation e-mail about the ticket, I got a notification that I had received a donation that would more than cover the needed cost of the ticket.

That's enough confirmation for me to keep moving forward!  If God can make all this happen (because it surely wasn't me), then I guess He'll find a way to use me, too.

Project 365: Day One

I’ve spent the last ten years giving assignments to other people; this assignment is for me.  I’m calling it "Project 365"--the goal is to get one year's worth of posts (365).  Even if it takes me five years. 

This is a completely arbitrary day to begin this project.  It’s not the first of the year. It’s not the first of the month. It’s not even a Monday.  Perhaps it’s a heart thing. Despite my classes starting on Tuesday, today was my last day of "mama" summer.  

Today the last of my two “Gators” moved back up to the university, marking the official, this-is-really-it-folks, end of summer.  The first to go back to school left on Wednesday. I am not actually this one’s mama, but I was for the summer, so the separation is just as hard.

For the most part, I am glowing with a rush of gratitude for the summer we had. It was a summer filled with lots of hard work, but also two blissful, relaxing and long-over due family vacations.  It was a blessed and slow-paced time of making things right, restoring broken places, and reveling with deep appreciation in the weirdness that is us.  

Now it’s over, and this year that feels particularly significant.

I am delighted with where each of my young people is at the start of this new year.  My oldest, Katie,  and our sweet Grace began the summer fragile, exhausted by adulthood, and anxious about life, but both returned to school with greater peace, direction, and confidence in themselves and their plans. I felt grateful and thrilled to see the work that this summer had done in them, and I am excited for their year ahead.   

Those who remained on the farm are moving forward just as much as the two who will have their own apartments. My free-spirit Hallie is working three jobs, going to college, and absolutely blowing my mind, because this is the girl who was content to stay at home, create beautiful things, and daydream. 

My baby, my almost man, is about to take college classes as a high school senior (pray for us) while beginning a new job and filling in as the stand-in man and lifter of heavy things when his Daddy’s away.  

 It’s a sweet place for a mama to be, standing on the sidelines cheering as her young-uns charge into the game with determination.  So, yeah, I am beyond grateful with where we are ending this summer. 

Still, I gotta say, the transition back to school feels especially momentous. This year I realize that--as of today--what Jen Hatmaker dubbed “The Family Years” are essentially over.  All my offspring are finding their own ways into the world brilliantly, but I'm acutely aware that those ways always lead eventually out of the nest--for good, if we've done our jobs right.   

We’ll always be family and always love and enjoy each other, and it will be good.  But we will never live all together in the same way again.  I realize this is a good thing; it was actually the end-goal of this whole clumsy child-rearing thing all along. 

For now, though, I’m sitting here blubbering (thank you, Christy Nockels for providing the accompaniment), and I feel the need to mourn—just for a minute. 

Because we Odells do FAMILY really well. 

I know the passing of this stage will lead us into a new one that is beautiful and rewarding in unimaginable ways, but—just for this evening—I’m going to lean into my happy-sad tears and take the time to say a proper goodbye.

When Do I Rest?

Every January I spend some time thinking about what should be my "word" for the year.  That may sound cheesy, but intentionality is not my strong suit, so I've found the practice a good one.  One word, well-chosen,  reminds me of an important focus for the year and guides my decision-making and prioritizing.  This year that task was tough.  Nearly into February, I was still without a word, still without a focus.  Then one morning, as often happens, something in the Word jumped out at me:

"On the seventh day God had finished his work of creation, so he rested from all his work." --Genesis 2:2

First God finished.  Then He rested.  Honestly, the word that first grabbed me was FINISHED.  Maybe that was my word: FINISH.  I reasoned that God had earned the right to rest, because He had finished His work. Perhaps I needed to focus on finishing things.  Great idea, great word, but the thought of it left me feeling weighed down and on the verge of tears. 

  Because, really, does a wife. a mom, a teacher EVER finish?  Truth be told, I was not resting because I never felt finished. The problem is that I tend to view my roles as a continual and unending work that will not be finished until the kids are grown, until I retire, and until death do us part.  And frankly, I wasn't so sure I could make it to "finished" if I didn't get some rest!

Here's the thing:  The Bible doesn't end at Genesis 2.  A whole lot of Book comes after Genesis, and it's ALL the work of God.  Not only that, I'm living proof that He is STILL working in this world.  What God finished before he rested was the work of creation. 

One work. 

Granted, that work was pretty impressive, but it was not His entire work for all of eternity.  He finished that work, then He rested.  He didn't quit.

In viewing the "big picture" things of life as what had to be finished before I could rest, I was actually hurting my work and God's work in me.  

The cost of never resting is an overwhelming desire to just quit. 

What a relief to read more closely, to let God show me the Heart behind His words.  Yes, I need to finish what I start, and a rest feels much more blissful when it comes after a hard effort that is completed.  The rest, however, is just as much a part of the ultimate work as the finishing.    

Therefore, what I need to give myself permission to do is rest after finishing "the work of _____________."   

Then, with the satisfaction of one job complete and a well-earned rest, I am refreshed to continue in the Great Work to which God has called me.