Well, I've regressed a little since Thursday. I woke up Friday and Saturday mornings feeling itchy and thinking of bbs. Understand that I have not had any bites to itch. I must be psycho. Been there before, and I know what to do: Philippians 4:6-9, "do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and petition with thanksgiving, present [my] request to God and the peace of God which transcends all understanding wil guard [my heart and mind] in Christ Jesus. . . . whatever is true, noble right, pure, lovely (no room for bbs there), admirable, excellent, praiseworthy, think about such things. . . . and the God of peace will be with you."
You may be wondering how we got bed bugs. Let's just say that you know that you're on mission when life gets messy. Peter is thrilled (to be on mission). I'm not wearing my party hat yet. :) However, lest you think Peter completely naive, his enthusiasm dwindled a little when he realized how much work and money has gone and continues to go into getting rid of these pests. And lest you think I am a total stoic, keep reading to see how my love for Q and M (our mission) has rattled me. When our eighteen-year-old daughter Cami found the first bug in her bed May 1, we had our suspicions about where it came from. A few days later, friends and co-mission laborers confirmed our suspicions when they too found bbs.
So now we have a bigger problem than bed bugs. It's the heart-wrenching tension between mission and mess. You can imagine the struggles I have had in the past month--do we cut off Q and M just to keep our house clean? My heart tells me I can't do that. But do we continue with Q and M as always? Do we dole out cash/time/energy one day to rid our home of bbs and bring them back in the next? Which applies to me in this situation--Mark 4:26-29 or Mark 8:34-36? Is this a challenge to let God alone do the work in Q's and M's lives (4:26-29) or a test of whether I will save my life or lose it (8:34-36)? Is my faith demonstrated in what I do or in what I don't do?
I am tortured by these questions and have begged God to give me answers and relief. I have found so much joy in knowing that Jesus came to earth with much more repulsion than I will ever feel, yet he willingly determined to join humanity and rescue me. This is an incomparable, unthinkable, unrepeatable sacrifice! I feel I must duplicate this for Q and M. But I can't bring myself to do the same.
One Sunday, a day we usually have the boys over, I was racked with guilt at the utter selfishness of my decision to reject their request to come over. I was sobbing for my home, for my soul, and for their souls. I was angry that God had put these two seemingly irreconcilable choices before me. Kai, my twenty-one-year-old son (who, by the way, is a biology major and has offered to mix up some DDT for me, but I told him that I appreciate the offer, but orange is not his color) and Cami, my daughter, reminded me at the lunch table that day, that when I am weak, He is strong (II Corinthians 12:9-10). At that moment, I knew I was a blessed woman -- to have my children speaking truth to me, allowing me to be weak, and pointing me to Christ! God's power is made perfect in weakness! The next day I had another epiphany: in my attempts to be like Christ, I was trying to be God. My role in Q's and M's lives is not to be their savior. It's to point them to Jesus, their only savior. I'll never be Jesus even though I want to be like him. If I could be him, he'd be human, not God. So, I'm continually asking myself if I'm pursuing my kingdom or God's, and I'm still struggling with my day-to-day choices in regards to Q and M, but I'm rejecting the debilitating pressure of trying to be THE rescuer. I would love for you to pray for me about that.
You may be wondering how we got bed bugs. Let's just say that you know that you're on mission when life gets messy. Peter is thrilled (to be on mission). I'm not wearing my party hat yet. :) However, lest you think Peter completely naive, his enthusiasm dwindled a little when he realized how much work and money has gone and continues to go into getting rid of these pests. And lest you think I am a total stoic, keep reading to see how my love for Q and M (our mission) has rattled me. When our eighteen-year-old daughter Cami found the first bug in her bed May 1, we had our suspicions about where it came from. A few days later, friends and co-mission laborers confirmed our suspicions when they too found bbs.
So now we have a bigger problem than bed bugs. It's the heart-wrenching tension between mission and mess. You can imagine the struggles I have had in the past month--do we cut off Q and M just to keep our house clean? My heart tells me I can't do that. But do we continue with Q and M as always? Do we dole out cash/time/energy one day to rid our home of bbs and bring them back in the next? Which applies to me in this situation--Mark 4:26-29 or Mark 8:34-36? Is this a challenge to let God alone do the work in Q's and M's lives (4:26-29) or a test of whether I will save my life or lose it (8:34-36)? Is my faith demonstrated in what I do or in what I don't do?
I am tortured by these questions and have begged God to give me answers and relief. I have found so much joy in knowing that Jesus came to earth with much more repulsion than I will ever feel, yet he willingly determined to join humanity and rescue me. This is an incomparable, unthinkable, unrepeatable sacrifice! I feel I must duplicate this for Q and M. But I can't bring myself to do the same.
One Sunday, a day we usually have the boys over, I was racked with guilt at the utter selfishness of my decision to reject their request to come over. I was sobbing for my home, for my soul, and for their souls. I was angry that God had put these two seemingly irreconcilable choices before me. Kai, my twenty-one-year-old son (who, by the way, is a biology major and has offered to mix up some DDT for me, but I told him that I appreciate the offer, but orange is not his color) and Cami, my daughter, reminded me at the lunch table that day, that when I am weak, He is strong (II Corinthians 12:9-10). At that moment, I knew I was a blessed woman -- to have my children speaking truth to me, allowing me to be weak, and pointing me to Christ! God's power is made perfect in weakness! The next day I had another epiphany: in my attempts to be like Christ, I was trying to be God. My role in Q's and M's lives is not to be their savior. It's to point them to Jesus, their only savior. I'll never be Jesus even though I want to be like him. If I could be him, he'd be human, not God. So, I'm continually asking myself if I'm pursuing my kingdom or God's, and I'm still struggling with my day-to-day choices in regards to Q and M, but I'm rejecting the debilitating pressure of trying to be THE rescuer. I would love for you to pray for me about that.
