Tired.

Somewhere in the middle of our ride to church last Wednesday it dawned on me.

"I am really, really, REALLY tired of riding this bus."

You see, I have ridden on a bus with 20-70 kids every Wednesday and a lot of Sundays for the last 9 years. That comes out to over 824 times.

Let me tell you something about riding on a bus with kids. It is LOUD. Ha! And have I mentioned that I am introvert? God truly has a sense of humor.

But, the reality of the situation is, that riding that bus has been one of the most amazing and transforming experiences of my life. Some of the kids that still ride the bus today as teenagers have been riding that whole time. I have watched them grow from hyper little boys, with their own hurts and fears, into growing young men trying to make choices in a tough world.

I have seen kids come and go. I have seen HUGE victories and heartbreaking defeats. I have laughed with them, cried with them, hugged them, and put band aids on both skin and soul.

I have disciplined and asked them to sit down....over, and over, and OVER. I have had moments of joy and moments of defeat. I have wanted to quit. I have questioned my choices. I have wondered at times if I have given too much tough love or not enough.

I have been spit on, pushed, yelled at, and defied. I have had rocks thrown at me, been called names, and cursed.

I have had hugs, and kids who just want to lean on my arm, and sweet pictures, and sticky candy gifts, and more honest-to-goodness heartfelt love than my heart can hold.

I have counseled and begged and pleaded and yelled. I have sang and entertained and distracted. I have wiped boogers and braided hair and broken up fights. I have listened to "Call Me, Maybe" being sung at the top of their cute, little lungs more times than I care to remember.

I have bawled my eyes out in frustration. In sadness. In heartbreak over what I have seen and heard and felt with my heart. And still I know that God is in and through and around it all. So I've realized that these moments are blessings. Each one of these noisy rides a chance to show kids that they matter.

We get to show them that they are
*loved
*important
*valued
*irreplaceable pieces of God's beautiful plan.

So, go ahead...get on the bus. And, God, please don't let me ever get tired of that.

Bloom.

Sometime in the last few weeks I hit a wall. I found myself in unfamiliar territory with feelings of discontent and weariness pressing hard on my soul. Sure, I've been worn out before, but this felt different. And I knew what I was doing. I was fighting against the place God has planted me. Simply refusing to bloom. Digging my heels into the dirt of "not fair" and "I can't" and "it's too hard".

I've been frustrated by the little things: muddy footprints on the already stained carpets, water sloshed across the floor by small hands, and extra mouths I didn't plan on for dinner. Loud kids in a house that feels too small and wondering if the dream He's planted is ever really going to happen. The bitter taste of doubt...mostly in myself.

So, I've been talking to God and asking Him to work on my heart. I kept saying to friends who would ask how I am doing..."I know I'm not blooming where I'm planted. But I really really want to. Please pray for me."

It started with a mud kitchen. One night, grumpy and frustrated, I marched out to the backyard with a paint can and a plan. And I began to put pieces of wood and this and that together to make my kids a mudpie station. Summer is coming and they have to have fun things to do. As they grow, the yard we have no longer is containing them. They want the freedom to roam that they see other kids' have. But I worry about the drug dealer that lives a few houses down and the child pornography production that was taking place in the trailer behind ours, and I wonder how to keep my kids safe but also give them freedom. So, I know in my heart that our yard and our home need to be that haven that kids can come to. It needs to be a fun zone. Thus, the mudpie kitchen.

Then today as the sun shined hot overhead my yard continued to gain kids until there were over 12 running around screaming and laughing and having a good time. I think this is a precursor to what summer holds. In and out and in and out for bathroom breaks and scrapes that need bandages and thirsty mouths and hungry tummies and "what time is it?!" and "do you have a swimsuit I can wear?" and "can I stay for dinner?"

Breaking up fights, and negotiating treaties, and not getting a lick of anything done around this never-ending cleaning job I call my house. I don't know if I should laugh or cry as the dirty towels pile up in the aftermath of a water fight and the popsicle sticks litter the yard.

I try to fold a few clothes while keeping an ear on things...."Absolutely NO kissing!"
I want to get mad when yet another kid runs to the bathroom with muddy feet and leaves a dark trail across the carpet.
I am just returning an e-mail when kid #11 needs a drink.

*sigh*. I am SO stinking HUMAN. I struggle between the easy way and the thing that is far better. I know carpet matters little in the face of an 8 year old girl who just needs someone to really see her...to really love her. So what if she comes in skin that is muddy and smelly and constantly needy. Isn't that how I come before God? Stinking in my human-ness?

And so, in the midst of it all,  I feel the gentleness of God's nudge. "This is where I want you to bloom. Right here." In my heart I know it is true.

So I say to myself, "Jillary....it is time to embrace the craziness and go with it. This is the 'tribe' God has called you to." 

Therefore we also, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight , and the sin that so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us."

 

Hebrews 12:1

In the center of His plan.

I am thinking and praying a lot about the farm on this snowy April day. We are in the process of looking seriously at some land. We are in the midst of thinking through offers, figuring numbers, and leaping out in faith. I am excited. I am nervous.

We are not afraid of hard work or hard times, but we are afraid of stepping one foot outside of God's will. If there is one thing our family has learned, it is that anything can be done -even hard things- when you know they are exactly what God wants you to be doing.

And so, today I pray that God's voice would be clear. That the path would be smooth and straight and evident. That if this is the land he has for the farm, that He would provide the miracles.

 

 

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.

 

Romans 8:28

Please pray for us and for this God-sized dream today!