Finding Faith in the Battle

"Please help our son pull himself together so we can be back to Kenya!" It was a heart-wrenching prayer that started back on December 5, 2015. Counselors had just informed us that he needed more than we could get in Nairobi. It triggered a road of bewilderment and step-by-step following through some of the most twisted and confusing paths that we've ever walked. Chad cried out, one day, "We just played hard all season, and now we're being benched for the big game! It makes no sense!" "Please, give us the tools to help our son thrive in Kenya!" The crooked path took us to Raleigh, NC, a place where we had zero connections. A place where God provided a community, great schools, great counselors, and healing in areas we didn't even realize we were sick. It helped us cry out an equally heart-wrenching prayer that showed our growing understanding of our son's needs; understanding that he wasn't acting out of spite or purpose or sabotag...

I re-read my latest blog, The Crooked Path , and wondered if I did a disservice to the missionary struggle by not "showing my work" from the months leading up to this point! The last thing I want to imply is that we're trying to decide if we want to go back to Kenya, or suggest that we're asking God if He's released us from Kenya because it's hard there and we're done. Our hearts are in Kenya. We love the people. We love our jobs. We love our co-workers. We love being given a part to play in what God wants to accomplish there. In some ways, it feels like we were MADE for it! Of course there are hard parts about it--have I ever mentioned the traffic?--but there are also so many blessings and gifts, and it's home . So why the crooked path? Why the questions? Do you remember reading my thoughts on calling and how it was time to put my money where my mouth is? It's been awhile, for sure. For those who aren't sitting on the couch hanging o...

Everyone knows crooked paths conjure up images of dishonesty, or evil. No one wants to be on the crooked path. No--we want to be on the straight and narrow. Grudgingly we accept that sometimes the straight and narrow might split and we're stuck momentarily at a cross-roads. We don't like that either, of course. Making decisions one way means turning away from the other way, and we just love having our cake and eating it too. And why not? Why would you have a cake  you weren't planning on eating? I've never understood that one. And I've never enjoyed cross-roads. I thought I was at a cross-roads. Back in the US on Stateside for 12 months. Back in the US to get help for our son. And after that...a cross-roads. On one side, a return to Kenya. On the other, staying in America. On one side--indescribable traffic, cultural stress, best friends, impossible school lunches, a deep sense of meaning, water shortages, eternal sunshine, adventure and instability and trave...

Anya is in Virginia, living out a teenager's dream with her own room, own TV, own computer, and no siblings at her grandparent's house for the next 2 weeks. Chad is in New Mexico, living out an extrovert college minister's dream, networking with collegiate workers from around the US. I'm in Raleigh, NC, living out a missionary-mom's nightmare, helping 3 emotionally-fragile TCKs adjust to a new place yet again, solo. But I have craig's list and Google Maps, so we've stocked up on wheels for this 'Wheels Warrior' gang. Only--no helmets. I wasn't that worried, since they were just doing circles in the empty church parking lot, but then I got adventurous and took them to a bike trail. Turns out my kids have the need for speed. I'm sure you could have told me that, any of you who know them. But I underestimated the speed at which Isaac would fly down the hills on that flimsy piece of tin, and I could almost see the nurse-shaming headlines re...

As we've been hiking and exploring Oregon, I've been enthralled by the beauty that is so different than East Africa's. The texture of the landscapes is what I love most--so many different greens and browns spots of stunning flowers scattered around.  Here are some of my favorite captures.                   

The view from our driveway Landing in Central Oregon felt more like 'coming home' this time than it did last time we came back in 2013. The scraggly trees, the rocks and fields and hay. And oh, the mountains. It's really amazing, actually, that the entire population of the US doesn't up and move here just to wake up every morning and see those mountains! We have had moments of culture shock, as expected. So much skin being shown. So much PDA  Omara at Tumalo Falls even in church, where people hold hands (gasp!) and stroke each other's backs (the scandal!). So many options at the grocery store. I've spend literally hours inside Fred Meyers, just wandering the aisles to look at everything. The kids are amazed at dish washers, and that people would just throw away bottles and cans worth 5cents. Gluten-free communion. A sun that won't set until 9:30pm and then wakes up at 4:45am.  Ethan playing in Elk Lake, in the Cascade Mountains We...

Sports Day at Rosslyn Academy. In some ways I dread the day, sitting out on the field in the blistering sun for 6 hours to cheer on a 2 minute race for each kid. It rubs my to-do list the wrong way. But I remembered the last field day , and how inspired it made me. So off I went, with my water bottle, sunscreen, and packed lunch. Isaac had been practicing for 2 weeks--by running up and down the hall in our small house over and over again until sweat beaded on his lip and my sanity lost its grip. Thankfully, his race was first. 200m down the track against the other 1st grade boys. On your mark. Get set! GO!!!!! Off he flew, quickly establishing a lead. I know our kids are small, but man--they're FAST! And then...he ran right out of his shoe. Literally. Left it all on the track. And what is a boy to do when his shoe comes off in the middle of a race??? Mom's always said to NEVER play outside in your socks, so you turn around. But then you realize that...