There Is A Season - Part 2

(read this post only after you read the 1st)

This past Sunday my parents were commissioned as missionaries to Viet Nam. Their job is to raise awareness of the need to bring the gospel to this unreached people group and funds to the full-time missionaries who have just settled there. They will take short-term trips to Viet Nam as well. Their heart is with the Viet Nam people, as well as the outcasted Cambodian people living in Viet Nam.

Now that I am an adult with a family of my own, I have a different perspective on my growing up years. I can better understand the different seasons that we go through during our life - the growth that God instigates. I am learning that God creates inside each of us different passions, passions that he wants to use for his glory and purpose. I have to admit, there were times during my life that I was angry and jealous of "the ministry" because it took so much attention away from me. But just look at my parents now - I can't help but admit that God has them where he wants them, just as he's always had them where he wants them.

As I listened to my first pastor talk about my parents during their commission service, I thought about Indiana, Vermont, and the years here in York, all the places that my parents were heavily involved in the ministry. I thought about how God created a passion inside my parents, how my mom supported my dad, and the courage they had in following Him.

They've been through a lot in the years since they've been married - 36+ years ago. I am so proud of them. I have always been so proud of them. They've been an inspiration in following the passion God's created inside of them, no matter what the obstacles are and the outcome is.

For Everything There Is A Season

In 1970, the United States was still at war with Vietnam. My dad was drafted during that time. He was part of the 101st Airborne. He was part of a battle called Ripcord. They fought taking a strategic hill, fought to keep that hill, and fought trying to stay alive as they were evacuating the hill, losing it to the enemy. It is said to have been the last major battle, and the bloodiest, of the war.

And my dad survived.

I asked my dad once, when I was a kid, if he believed in guardian angels.

He told me about a time when he was a soldier in Vietnam. It was night, he dug a fox hole for himself. At some point he heard something. He looked up to find the enemy, who was unaware of dad's presence, not far away. Dad had just enough time to shoot his gun, from the hip, in the direction of the NVA. The next morning he saw that he shot the enemy in the forehead. A hipshot which was that accurate, without sighting in.

My dad gave me a book entitled, Ripcord - Screaming Eagles Under Siege, Vietnam 1970, by Keith W. Nolan. I can only read bits and pieces throughout it - it's a hard read. And I really don't like envisioning my dad in such a scary place and time. But it has made me realize that it is by God's protection and will that my dad survived.

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My dad once told me that although 5 years might seem like a long time to me (I was a teenager), that in all truth and reality 5 years goes quickly. It's a blink in time.

I wonder if he was surprised to find himself, just 5 years after the war, as a new believer, a husband, and a father of 2 sons? Funny how life can change with a blink.

My dad grew a lot, as a new believer. He's always been a thinker, he loves to study. When I was 4 years old, we moved to Indiana so that my dad could go to seminary.

We moved to Vermont when I was 7. Dad and mom started a church in Stowe. Two years later we returned to York.

My parents have always been heavily involved in "the ministry". It's been a road with a lot of ups and downs. My heart goes out to anybody who finds themselves involved in the ministry.

I don't know when God stirred my dad's heart to go back to Vietnam. But I think it was in 2001 that my parents recieved the approval from the Grace Brethren mission board to travel to Vietnam, under the pretense of teaching English at a college. I didn't think my mom would like Vietnam at all. Boy, was I surprised when they came back and mom told me she loved it and the people! And of course my dad was captivated as well.

Over the next few years, my parents led a few teams, made up of their church members mainly, to Vietnam, introducing that world to the Grace Brethren mission board. They've insisted that this was a place where their focus should be - this unreached people group. This year the board agreed, approving a family for full-time missionary status there, and my parents as part-time missionaries. This has been my parent's passion and dream.

This is a picture of my parent's being commissioned to go to Vermont, to start a home-mission's church.

New Addition To The Top 15

Or even quite possibly the top 10.

Jason and I watched the movie, Yes Man, with Jim Carrey, this evening. I forgot how much I laughed while watching this movie. It most definately deserves to be amongst my top 15 favorite movies of all time. I'm thinking top 7.

It's a Michelle kind of movie. I cried hilarious/grief stricken tears as I watched this one particular scene. I heard Michelle's laugh. Boy, do I miss her laugh.

Click HERE to catch the MOTORCYCLE SCENE.

Diamond Earrings

I wore my diamond earrings to work today to remind me of God's presence and ultimate control. This worked well because my ears are slightly allergic to the gold posting - a constant reminder. Plus, it's a rare event for me to wear earrings at all (due to the allergic reaction tendencies). I think I'm going to have to switch up my jewelry choice each week - can't get used to wearing something so that I'll hardly know it's there, like my wedding rings and watch. That would defeat the purpose. I've been tossing around the idea of getting a nose ring. I'd get an eyebrow ring but my eyebrows are almost non-existent - wouldn't want to draw attention to the sparsity of them. Maybe I should get a tattoo on my knuckles?

Resurrection Sunday Dance, Budapest, Hungary

We went to my dad's church yesterday and he played this video for us during the service.

It's easy to become so negative when you hear about different current events and disasters - both man-made and natural. It's easy to forget that God is victorious - and will continue to be victorious, because sad & bad news fill the stories on TV, newspapers, Internet, and even in our own lives.

But let's take a few minutes to remember who we serve - and who's side we're on. If you belong to God, you are on the winning team. I tend to forget that. What a glorious day it will be when "we all get to heaven." But we will have glorious moments before then as well - why should we wait?

This video was shot in Budapest, Hungary. 50 years ago, army tanks filled that square and 30,000 people lost their lives. You don't have to think too hard to recall current day events with similar images. Satan tries so hard. What a loser. I hate him.

This is just a little reminder that although it seems like this world is falling a part, and it probably is (but that's okay, it's not our true home), there will be a huge celebration when it's all said and done.

P.S. ~ Dan leaned over to me when the video started and said "Slumdog Millionaire." He's so right - it is like that!

Home Grown & Organic

We had no idea what we were doing, but we grew that salad. We planted it, watered it, tried to avoid spraying it with the weed killer, and then, when we thought it looked good enough to eat, we cut it off at the ground, washed it, and this evening we made a Caesar's salad out of it. I let the kids try it first - I'm a sissy. It just doesn't seem quite right not buying it at the grocery store - seemed kinda weird to me. Since they kept eating it, and Jason said it was crisp and good, I attempted a bite as well. Yeah, it's a salad. Nothing special about it. Same old same old. Hopefully I won't grow any parasites in my intestines tonight.



We ate outside tonight - what a beautiful evening! I'm outside right now - waiting for the chocolate chip cookies to be done baking. (Please hold on a moment, I need to go check them)


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This was my first day of joining the kids in Summer Vacation. It seemed more like a Saturday than a Friday - what with having the kids home and all. I've been looking at my kids more closely of late - boy, are they growing up! They're getting their summer coats - turning all golden in the summer sun. Their eyes are beautifully green - a compromise between Jason's big beautiful brown ones and my blue/grey. Noel is looking less and less of a little girl. She's wearing last year's shorts - a little too small - and it proves to us how long her legs are. There's hope that she won't be as short as me! (and fear that she's going to be too beautiful for her own good :) Ethan is looking more and more like his daddy, except for his eyes. What a handsome guy he is! He'll turn 10 this October - where did those 10 years go? In another 10 years he'll be out of the house (with any luck)! I can't believe it - and I hear it being said every day, time goes by too fast.

A few years ago, I used to watch my nephew (the middle guy in the above picture) during the day. He is the same age as Noel. He came over today and is spending the night. It's a throw back to old times - the three of them being together again.

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I think I might sip a glass of Chardonnay and read my book outside this evening. Sounds good to me. I wonder what you are doing?

A Place By Me

Exodus 33:21-23



God said,



"Look, here is a place right beside me. Put yourself on this rock. When my Glory passes by, I'll put you in the cleft of the rock and cover you with my hand until I've passed by. Then I'll take my hand away and you'll see my back. But you won't see my face."



"Here is a place beside me."



"A place beside me."



But I must look. And then place myself there.



A wise friend asked me what it was that God might be inviting me to - during this anxiety-ridden time of my life.

And then I thought about what Leslie wrote in the comments about seeing God do the work. That I might be trying to take over what he's been wanting to do.

In trying to survive - could I be getting in the way? Sometimes it's so easy to forget about God. I can't see Him. I can't feel His physical presence. I don't hear Him talking. Not when I most need Him to be the hero, during my work day.

I was talking to Sista Wild Child tonight on the phone. She said she wishes she could hire herself out to people as a personal cheerleader. Boy, would I absolutely LOVE to have her beside me, cheering me on! "Way to go Em! You opened the Una Boot wrapper without any trouble this time!" I can just picture our days together - what a blast!

I'm not saying God wants to be my personal cheerleader, well - that's not all He wants to be. But I'm thinking He wants me to understand that He knows how to do my job. He knows how to do the doctor's job. After all, He is The Great Physician.

So what is He inviting me to?

To a place beside Him. To see Him. To experience Him. He is God. And I am not. I don't need to be in control. I may be inadequate, but He isn't. He wants me to witness Him in action. I think He wants to show off for me. I could be wrong - but maybe not.

Last year He just sat on the opposite side of the couch from me, waiting for me to stop wrestling with Him to find rest in Him. I desperately wanted Him to miraculously pull me out of the pit that I was in. I desperately wanted Him to give me answers. I desperately wanted to feel His strength and presence. But all he did was look over at me, saying nothing for the most part.

It was only after I decided that I didn't need the answers to all my questions that I could find rest in Him. And it was only after I returned to the one truth I knew I could always count on that I could finally experience it. God loves me.

And He wants to be my hero.

I wear a purple purl ring to work everyday now. Jason gave me the ring one year for Christmas. I wear it to remind myself that God is right there beside me, and sometimes, as my wise friend told me, He's wrapping His arms around me as I draw up syringes, or handing the doctor his instruments. Just like a lover would wrap his arms around his love to teach her the proper technique in swinging a golf club. That's my visual. And I wear my purple ring to remind me. Because I can so easily forget in the heat of the moment.

Oh this is going to be a long lesson learned my friends! I'm going to have many ups and downs with it. And guess what? You'll be reading about some of them.

Poop

This post has nothing to do with poop but I entitled it poop so that I wouldn't write the swear word option because I only allow myself a certain quota of swear words per month and I think I should save the rest of my usage until I really really need to so that I will be highly satisfied when I do.

With that said or written, I'll now explain my expletive.

Wait. My mind is shifting to what the TV is repeating over and over again: booby traps. It's quite annoying. How did we ever come to say: booby traps - where did that saying come from? Do I really want to know?

So back to poop. I'm going to have myself a little pity party right now.

My kids have summer vacation and I DON'T!!!!! My heart is breaking. I want to sleep in. I want the care-free days of being bored and wanting to tie my kids in chairs with duct tape over their mouths. I want to drive to stores and go window shopping. I want to go to the park with the creek and get eaten by bugs and threatened by snakes. I want to read for a couple hours, DURING THE DAY, and lay out for 3 minutes before I give up because I'm sweating too much. I want to have aspirations of organizing and cleaning my laundry area and then just take a long nap instead. I want to look at the day ahead of me and wonder; "what am I going to do today?" I want to not care about weekends because they're just like every other day in my book.

I saw those buses drive by my office window today, shipping the kiddos home for a few months of Summer vacation. I heard the kids laugh and have fun, without a care in the world. Dumb kids. I want to be a kid. I want to have summer vacation.

Instead I'm working on a stomach ulcer. I'm still not eating breakfasts or drinking my morning coffee. Stupid summer vacation. Everyone needs to work. Nobody should have off or have fun. Everyone should develop stomach ulcers.

Because misery loves company.




Okay, pity party over. This week started off well. And my kids tend to drive me even more insane - more than my normal amount of insanity. So really, I'm thankful I'll be spared day upon day upon day upon day of being surrounded by children who are not always so lovely. But it would be nice to spend a couple more days with them.

There Is Nothing So Satisfying As ...

... a really good sneeze and an appropriately used swear word. Myth Busters confirms (the swear word usage).

Sorry dad.

Thoughts You Shouldn't Have During Communion

Growing up, communion was always a special time during church life. A whole evening service was committed to communion. We began with a small meal, lit by candle light. Our conversations were to be centered around heaven and other spiritual matters, but it didn't always follow that way. The church ladies made the communion bread. The candles sticks had slots at the bottom for the little juice cups (killing two birds with one stone - how very "brethren" of us :) We would separate into men and women after eating our little meal together - women in one room, men in another room, where we would follow Christ's example and "wash" each other's feet. It was a special time. (don't worry, it was expected that everyone wash their feet at home before the evening service). It always seemed strange to me that people who were not part of this feet washing tradition thought it strange and yucky that we would include feet washing in our communion service. I never thought of it that way. It had a way of bringing us together, it was a loving thing to do. Now that I work at a podiatry office & have had to answer questions on why I do what I do, I've come to realize that many people think feet are disgusting.

Anyway, I grew up Grace Brethren. Communion service happened 3 times a year. So it was a big deal. And the Sunday before the communion service, we were told to search our hearts that afternoon. To be sensitive to the Holy Spirit - to confess the sin we yet need to confess and repair our relationship with the Lord if we needed to do so. Because God warns us not to take communion if there is sin we have yet to confess.

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So that's my communion background. And here are the thoughts that I shouldn't, but did, have during communion today:

*Oh crud, it's communion.

*That makes sense, it's the beginning of the month.

*Quickly, quickly now! Think of all the sin I've committed and confess them! I don't want to be cursed! Try to be sorry.

*Wow, we're really close to the front.

*Sing Emily Sing - don't focus on how you sound! Sing prayerfully!

*thank goodness I don't need to stretch from one person to the other to deliver the cracker and juice platters this time - I fear spills.

*would it look bad if I took the time to chose a big piece?

*maybe I shouldn't pick through the crackers - for heaven's sake just pick one!

*oh man - I can't believe there's a piece this small! And a crust piece too - of all the luck! Would it kill them to keep the piece size a little bigger?

*when can I eat it - are the others eating it yet?

*here comes the juice, O Lord, this is where it get's hairy.

*Please don't spill Please don't spill.

*oh yeah, picked the cup from the center - the godlier cups are the center cups. See? She didn't pick from the center. (I was just teasing you in my thoughts Flamingo - I didn't really mean it :)

*Why do I make it to the oil anointing services more often than the communion services?

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All these thoughts were interspersed with more godly spiritual thoughts and true confession. However, it never fails me to have a few non-spiritual selfish, even odd thoughts here and there during the whole ordeal.

Can't Drink Coffee

It takes me by surprise how anxious-ridden I've been this particular week. My anxiety level has been building recently, but this week has taken the cake. I couldn't even drink my morning cup of coffee and if I ate anything for breakfast - it was just a few bites of cereal! Which is so unlike me because the only motivating factor to getting out of bed in the mornings is knowing I'll be able to eat within a few minutes. So mornings have been particularly grievous.

Work is so stressful. It's hard to go from my comfort zone of being home to working outside the home - where people who aren't family or friend (thus not so forgiving or patient or loving) rely on me, have expectations of me (many times too high), and the busyness of the day is most times very overwhelming. My head is spinning most days. I'm expected to be efficient, but I'm so new and awkward yet that there is no possible way to fulfill those expectations. And so I get more clumsy and have no self confidence. I get very scared - because I fear making mistakes.

There are particular reasons why working with the one doctor causes so much of my anxiety. I will not get into those specifically. The other doctor is layed-back, does her own notes, and doesn't mind helping me out or answering my questions. It's much more enjoyable working with her. My stomach doesn't tie in knots as much.

Work has been amazingly crazy. With one doctor gone and trying to fit all his patients into the other 2 doctors schedule, it has been overloaded. And we're getting so many new patients! Which is great for business, but makes for an increased workload for us. The one doctor was on vacation last week - so this particular week was that much more insane.

I want to remind God that I never asked for this job - that I would have been quite happy staying at home. If he would so choose to lead me back home full time, I'll not fight him in that decision. I'm not cut out for this. I can't do it. I'll never be a good "nurse". I'm disappointing the main doctor, I'm frustrating him. I'm leaning too much on the other "nurses" - I'm not self-sufficient enough. I'm taking too long to learn everything. I'm more of a burden then a help.

I'm not typically such an anxiety-ridden person. Not typically. Not that I'm a real layed-back kind of person either. But do I get stomach ulcers? No! I can drink wine one evening, have coffee the next morning, and for lunch have coke with caffeine and not suffer too much indigestion. I'm blessed that way. My patients are all jealous.

So that's why I'm surprised at this sudden attack that's been working up to volcanic proportions. I'm sure you're asking - how's your time with God been? How typical of you. God fits into the half hour of driving to and from work on Mondays and Thursdays (my drive is only 10 minutes away on Tuesdays and Wednesdays at the closer office) and a few bathtub moments when I pray for my friends. My quiet time has changed drastically from the way it used to be - the year before last. Ahhh, the good ole' days. Then darkness hit, for a year or so, and I could hardly sit on the same couch with him. Then he made me get this job and although I need him daily, moment by moment, and it's been amazing to experience him in this way, I haven't been getting into his word often, I haven't been sitting quietly with him. And I miss that. But I'm so dang tired, and when I have the time to relax I just want to distract myself with writing on this, reading, watching TV, or sleeping. I don't want to think about how God wants to improve me, what I should be doing to grow spiritually. Time for him equals work for me. And I know that is all wrong, that's not how he wants it to be or intended it to be, and my perspective on it is not his. But it's a perspective that's keeping from him.

Last night I suddenly remembered that I was supposed to remind my doctor that he was to start work at 7:30 this morning. Of course I forgot to. Which added to my anxiety. I asked Jason to pray for my doctor to remember his starting time. Jason said I didn't need to worry about it so much. But I did. I couldn't wait to get to work to see if the doctor remembered.

On my way to work this morning I heard the guy on the radio talk about my sufficiency. God gave us certain things to do - we're sufficient to do them. And his strength and presence is sufficient for us. I was calmed by that. Because I have felt very insufficient. I kept repeating thoughout the day, "I am sufficient. God gave me this job and I am sufficient for it." God overwhelmed me that morning with love for my family and the beauty of the day. He helped me remember that the work I do is such a small part of my life - it's not my world. Not my total world. Maybe I've been taking things too seriously. And not having much fun. Because it actually can be fun - if I would stop being so worried so much.

Aahhhhh, why can't I just be perfect?

Writings From Noel

Jason and I received a letter in the mail from Noel the other day. I thought it was so funny, so I have to publish it. Here it is:

Dear Mom and Dad,
I want a dog
because our other
dog will soon die
because she is
old. I will take
care of it, I will
walk it, I will clean
up after it, and I will
feed it. May I have
a dog? So what do you
think?
Love,
Noel

Here's a writing piece from April 19th. Kind of sad, but don't think about it like that:

First my bunny was sick.
Then, she was a lot of sick.
And then she was very very sick.
She was sleeping and then she died.

You have to love the simplicity of it.