Our life, currently.

I think it's about time to let the blogging world in on the details of the craziness that is our life. I've been a little vague about it (the job, the traveling, etc.) because we were just cautiously walking through things, but now we're at T-minus three weeks before we move out of our house and we don't know where we're going.

That's right.

Let me explain. Ten months ago Tony was working as the Student Pastor of Worship and Media at the church that brought us to Atlanta three and a half years ago. Then at the end of last summer he was approached by a friend of ours with an opportunity to play professional golf for a year, during which time our friend was going to cover our living expenses and all golf expenses. It stunned us, both with its generosity and its seeming temptation. This--golf--was the thing that Tony surrendered to the Lord when God got a hold of his life around nine years ago, so when this opportunity was presented to him, he shied away from it a bit because it seemed like a test.

Yet we had felt the change in our hearts concerning Tony's job for some time before this, and we prayed seriously and sought the Lord on it for over a month, and we kept coming to the conclusion that, without a doubt, this was what the Lord had for us. So we stepped in faith. And it was scary.

And so Tony practiced and played and prayed, and prayed and played and practiced, for about six months. Then in the middle of February, Elizabeth got sick with pneumonia and was in the hospital for three days. We remember the exact dates because the second day she was there, February 17, was Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent, and it was the last time Tony ever talked to our sponsor.

Fast forward eight weeks. Still no word from our sponsor, still no money from our sponsor. One night, Tony gets a call from one of our friends telling him to tune into our local news. Long-ish story very short, our sponsor is in jail.

And we are hurting. On so many levels, in so many ways, and not the least of which is hurting for him and his family. Bad decisions are now harming so many.

So here we are, unemployed and income-less for almost four months now. It's the eleventh hour and there's still, even now, an excitement in me, a "faintly burning wick," that's anticipating the Lord making His grand move. Because throughout this fire--this hot, melting, maiming fire--I've had questions and accusations for God that I've never had before. And honestly, they are questions and accusations that I've mocked people for. I mean, just have faith! Simple! Easy! What's wrong with you?

In that respect, I am so thankful that we've had this experience. Tony and I even agreed the other day that we wouldn't trade it for anything. We can now empathize with the unemployed and struggling, whereas, before, we were hard pressed to even muster up any true sympathy. And we wouldn't change this time either because we still would rather be slain by the God whom we trust than be blessed by the world. And it does seem like a slaying. A slaying without an angel being sent to stay the hand that holds the knife. We feel like an abandoned Isaac, dead at his father's hand at the command of the Lord.

But we know that's not the story. And we'll continue to say, even now when the ropes are being tied around us and we're being laid out on the altar, that God is good. In all things, He is good. When it means we prosper, He is good. When it means we suffer, He is good. When it means that our life's story is used in some "minuscule" way to advance the kingdom, He is good. When it means we are slain, He is good. Even as I type, my heart affirms this truth. He is good.

So I guess I'm answering my own questions tonight. Today the world looked so dark to me, so hopeless. Judah was sick, our routine was shot, the house got dirty, and it was yet another day that passed with no money, no job leads, and no news of any kind. But tonight, tonight God laid it on my heart to blog all of this that we've been living for the majority of the past year, and in it He ministered to me, as He always does when He provides a way for me to remember His goodness and His faithfulness. I am so quick to let the crap fill my entire field of vision, and then I'm blinded to the real story, the real workings of the Lord in my life. It has become a constant discipline for me to broaden my view, expand my perspective, and live joyfully. I've been terrible at it, truthfully. But I'm working it out "with fear and trembling," and am ceaselessly humbled by the fact that this God knows me, and despite knowing me, loves me, delights in me, thinks about me, plans good things for me.

And He "remembers that [I am] dust" (Ps. 103:14). This has been illuminated in my mind throughout this whole saga. I've never really gotten that verse until now, and now I cling to it and cherish it. It is so dear to me to think that God, who made me human, remembers that I am only human, with human emotions, human limitations, human failings. That's not an excuse to wallow in my humanity, but an opportunity to acknowledge God's greatness and kindness in dealing with us fragile things. It helps me so much to be reminded of that. I can't explain it the way I feel it just now...maybe it's another post for another time. This one is really long.

So, whew. That's about it, not so much in a nutshell as a whole oak tree, but anyway. Now you have the backdrop to whatever is coming for us in the next little bit in our lives. There are little hints of job opportunities, but nothing sure and nothing clear. We're still praying about why God's leaving us in the dark as of yet. There's the possibility of Texas, of Florida, of Memphis (which would include a stint for me in the workforce, hmmm), a few leads in Atlanta, and still a lot of questions. Your prayers are coveted, I assure you. So glad you're walking through it with me, blogfriends.