New Birth

"Am I unfit for You

Remember me, the one who turned from You

I come in rags tattered by the Fall

And all the earth, a witness to my crime

Mercy, weep over me

Let Your tears wash me clean

Majesty, be merciful with me

For my eyes have seen Holy

Hear my prayer at night

Let the morning find me alive

For I am tired and weakened by the Fall

Let all the earth bear witness to my cry

Let the Amen sound from Heaven as You lift my soul

Let the Amen sound from Heaven as You lift my soul

Let the Angels sound from Heaven, Holy is the Lord

Mercy, weep over me

Let your tears wash me clean

Majesty, be merciful with me

For my eyes have seen Holy" -Bebo Norman "My Eyes Have Seen Holy"

I can't tell you how many times I have visited this place since my last post...almost a year and a half ago..when my husband had just accepted a call to serve as country director to the country of Ethiopia for the Office of International Missions for the Lutheran Church Missouri Synod. 

But what I didn't share in that post, and what I couldn't share for 16 months following, was that the Lord had a journey for my husband and me that we never imagined was unfolding. Refiner's fire...in all it's horrific glory. Spiritual Warfare. Near death experiences...multiple times. Friends that rose up and inserted themselves as partners in the fire..that gave up their lives to walk through hell with us. They battled the demons, wept with us and for us, and never. gave. up. Praise be to Christ.

This isn't cheery, and it isn't dramatic: this is life. And it's truth. I'm tired of a world that dumbs down grief, dumbs down suffering, and hides away what is real for artificial and candy colored pinterest lives. 

Because, whether we like it or not, the Christian life in the shadow of the cross is a life that says, "You are not entitled anything." Did you hear that? Nothing. The only thing we are entitled is death. Eternal death. Our flesh tells us this every single day as it fails, as the world crumbles around us, and as we rise up only to be struck back down. We try and we fight and we endure, only to battle, fail, and cry out for forgiveness over and over...for help from the only One that can give us living water to save our parched souls. 

2015 ended with a high that swept us up into feeling like heaven had descended to Earth. We were preparing for the journey of a lifetime, adventures beyond anything we had ever imagined for our lives. We felt as if we had won the lottery! Can you imagine selling everything you own to move across the world to the wilds of Ethiopia with five children in tow?! We barely slept we were so excited. We felt like chosen ones. We felt as if we had been brought into a romantic missions movie where we were destined to see miracles unfold for thousands around the world. 

But that is not what happened. 

What did happen is that in May of 2016 we were released from our call, due to countless factors beyond anyone's control, and though missions was extremely caring and generous in their support for us as we tried to transition back into staying in the states (despite selling over half of our belongings and my husband having traveled to Ethiopia to begin bonding with the people He would be serving), the next 10 months tore at every fiber of our beings and left us battling forces that fought to destroy us. 

I think, if people are honest, everyone goes through these times. Growth spurts...midlife crisis...growing pains...marriage struggles...identity crisis..unemployment..these are the mundane names we give to hard times...you wake up one day and everything has been stripped away that you thought was certain, and you have no idea who you are or what you were created for. 

When my husband was released from his call, we had no guarantee that he would ever serve in a parish again. And since his undergrad work was theology, he was also not guaranteed being able to find a job in the lay work force. He applied to over 50 jobs. We heart wrenchingly turned down a call that the Lord made clear we were not to accept. We were not chosen for another. And nothing happened. We sat, we watched our bank account dwindle...all while finding out the Lord had blessed us with another child. 

I became extremely ill due to a number of health concerns. I lost over 20 lbs. And when I was at my worst, I conceived. I remember weeping. How was this even possible?! Would my child die? Would I die? I named my baby "Selah" before he was even 8 weeks in the womb as his "womb name". We prepared our children that miscarriage was very likely. And we worried about money. Our health insurance ended. Job after job either didn't get back to my husband, or turned him down. 

By Christmas we reached absolute crisis mode. On Christmas Eve, as the candles filled the dark sanctuary with their flittering light on the faces of the choir while they sang "Silent Night", I wept so hard that my 10 year old son held me and cried with me. 

Crisis has a way of bringing out every demon in the closet. And it did. Don't ever think pastors and their families aren't sinful human beings with real struggles. We struggle, we fight, we break. We began to wonder if God had left us. If we had fallen away. Were we worthy of His love? No, we were not, we never had been of our own accord.

We wept, we sought out pastoral care, counselors, friends. We crawled to private confession, to Holy Communion. We used whatever strength we had to go where God promises to be, and we begged Him not to leave us. 

I'm here to tell you, that even the darkness is as light to Him. JESUS HARROWED HELL ONCE AND FOR ALL! The word "harrow" comes from the Old English word hergian meaning to harry or despoil: to persistently carry out attacks on enemy's territory! When all the lights go out, and we descend down into the pits, behold! The pits and darkness have already been harrowed! They are plundered, and Christ is victorious. 

We were never alone. It was not us who fought, but Christ who fought FOR us. And it was His Holy Spirit who continuously and patiently strengthened us to respond in faith and go where Christ gives Himself. Satan attacked, the demons waged war, our flesh and the world flailed against Christ like a tantruming toddler. But Jesus our Good Shepherd, always calm and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love, He came for us. He came through the woods, through the deep caverns, past the crags and pits, and He gently laid us over His shoulders, and He carried us home. 

Six weeks ago we welcomed our 6th son home. Though childbirth threatened to take my son and me home to the Lord with a partial abruption, preterm birth, and hemorrhage during childbirth, the Lord tenderly cared for us and we were both sent home a week later. The Lord has seen fit, six weeks later, to call my husband back into the office of the Holy Ministry with a call. We are prayerfully deliberating and asking the Lord to guide and keep us, even as we pray for this church, that the Lord would bless her and bring the shepherd He has chosen to care for her. He will do it. 

Wherever you are, whatever you are going through, remember this:

"We are God's house of living stones,

Built for His own habitation,

He through baptismal grace us owns,

Heirs of His wondrous salvation,

Were we but two His name to tell,

Yet He would deign with us to dwell,

With all His grace and His favor." Built on the Rock, LSB, vs 3