Some days…

Some days my kids make me pull my hair out.

Other days, they take my breath away.

I have been cleaning the past couple hours and when I went in the front den, the unofficial landing pad to where the backpacks and winter coats are launched, and made my way over to the girls desks to set their things, and I noticed a good quarter page or so typed and left in Taylor’s typewriter.

Curious, I bent down to read it:

I was speechless. My mouth hung open as read and reread the page. I know something is bothering her. She cries silently with big tears down her face and won’t say what is wrong. She really is just like her mama.

I knew she had made a  box for letters to Jesus and I thought it was probably up in her room. I ran up there, skipping steps as I went and found it on her bookshelf. I held it a moment and opened it to find it empty. A moment of disappointment entered but then as I shifted the box, I noticed another letter, typed and taped into the lid…

Really Lord? You’ve entrusted US with HER?

For lack of a better title, “A Car Story”

This week, I found myself somewhere I’ve never been.

A title loan store.

Simply the act of driving past one of those places give me the creeps. There’s one in our town across the street from my bank that I often pray over when I pass by. I might just throw a party the day it closes. They are crooks, plain and simple.

So my heart started racing over the fact that I had to actually go inside one in order to get the title to our new [used] car.

The single mom we were buying the car from was hesitant to sell it. Once we met up at the place, I could see it in her eyes and for a moment the thought crossed my mind that she was about to back out of the deal. But she didn’t. We went in the store and as she took care of business, Brian and I sat, looking busy with our phones, in chairs facing partitions. On one side, a man made phone calls. Collections phone calls. Very typical. On the other side, a lady helped the seller of the car as she sat there trembling. I could only see her back. I tried not to listen too much – it really wasn’t any of my business – but I was appalled at what I did overhear. And I knew very quickly that her trembling was that of great relief.

She had told me when we test drove it a few days prior that her daughter was old enough that she was starting to watch her and how she handled money and so she felt like she really needed to be wise with it and do the right thing. To her, that meant she wanted to get out of debt and had to sell her car and drive a beater for a while. She didn’t know where B works, so it really touched me that she wasn’t giving me lip service. Her goal was what we long for so many to truly desire to do.

When she had finished up and had the title back, she turned and came over to us and we signed the bill of sale and title paperwork. I handed her the cash for the car and she told us some things about it and that she hoped we would enjoy it. I could tell she was fighting back tears. I felt horrible.

On the way home, B said, “Heather! Don’t feel bad for her! Selling this car IS for her, what your entertainment center was to you. It’s really, REALLY good. This is huge for her.”

About a half hour later, she called me and had forgotten something in the car and wondered if we could meet up. We did, and she got her things and standing by her car door with the car running, she said, “Dave would be proud! I got a beater! I’m doing it!”

I felt like telling her, It’s just temporary! I promise it’s worth it for now! You’re doing the right thing! But all that came out was, “You’re doing good! It’s gonna be great.” Easy for me to say. I just bought her car that she loved.

The thing is, she didn’t know that it was also the car that I loved. It was the make & model that, when Brian asked me what kind of car I might like to have someday, I didn’t even dare mention, because, it seemed down the road for us savings-wise. Why would I ever set my mind on something I didn’t think we could currently afford? And I didn’t feel bad about it all. I just, didn’t consider it.

But isn’t God good?

He spoke to my heart driving it that afternoon, that maybe the Jeep didn’t break down to inconvenience us at all. Maybe the Jeep isn’t even part of the equation. Maybe God just wanted to shock me and my practical, guarded, anti-climactic heart by giving me what I didn’t dare even ask for.

Or, maybe we’re just conduit. Maybe our Jeep died so ultimately, this mom who lives an hour away could get out of debt.

I’m not trying to spiritualize anything, but I know that God does all things well. He does all things with the end in mind that He gets the glory. Each of us is so blessed by what has transpired.

I could hear that she had Dave on on the radio as she was leaving the building that day, and as I climbed in the car and turned the building to drive away, he took a new caller. Her name was Andrea. Her car blew up, Murphy moved in, and she didn’t know what to do. Dave sympathized with her because he could. He told her to get a beater and get out of debt. No car payments. Get this stuff cleaned up and then upgrade your car in a few months as you’re able. And he was really, really gentle in talking to her.

I gotta tell you, I had tears rolling down my face knowing that this precious woman we had just bought this car from was driving away, listening to this show in her own “new” beater. And all I could do was thank God, over and over and over for how she must just have felt the biggest hug from Him right at that moment.

And you know, I did too, because I felt like I was indirectly witnessing it. How could His perfect timing be an accident?

No. No accidents.

She emailed me the next day. She said as she was paying things off the past couple days, she knew it was best and next months budget is already smiling at her.

So awesome. Oh, how he loves us!

I’m smiling too, and my sinuses still burn a little from holding back tears when I get in my new ride. And ya know? It’s not because I feel all special in my new car or anything, because I don’t. It really is JUST a car. But it’s the one the Lord knew I wanted and directed us to somehow, I still don’t know HOW I found that car, and provided – under budget. Because He does all things, really really well.

If you had told me years ago that if I sold my well loved SUV to get out of debt, drove old cars for a while, and years later I would have a vehicle I favored, it would have made selling the other one easier. But I don’t think God calls us to “easy”. He calls us to walk by faith. Not by sight.

I feel so very loved right now and it’s not because there’s something new parked in my garage. It’s because I am known by my Father in Heaven. Because I have woken up many mornings the past few weeks, curled up in a ball and with tears streaming down my face and into my pillow before I even raise my head, I have only been able to cry out, “DADDY! I need you NOW in so many ways.”

Oh, how He loves us. And oh, how fast He can run.

Ugly truth.

I’ve finally found some quiet.

I hear an owl outside and the usual near-silent hum of the tivo. I can finally, maybe, let my heart move through my fingers a bit.

Last week, when the earthquake happened in Haiti, I was in Counselor Training. It was actually a bit of a shock in a pleasant way, to be away from my laptop, tv, radio, facebook, twitter & phone and focus on something other than whatever was breaking or trending. I’m not even sure if when I got home that night, I knew about the quake. The next day I heard it mentioned on the radio on my drive in and thought it unusual that the morning DJ’s would bring attention to it. Must’ve been bigger than the “little earthquakes” that happen more often and we never hear mention of again, I thought.

That evening after dinner, one of the men in CT stood up and said that a family he knows, who are missionaries in Haiti had been on CNN the night before when he was flipping channels at the hotel. He was so happy to see them and know that they were safe. But he had just recieved word that afternoon, that they were killed as their house crumbled in on them following an aftershock.

I sat there quiet. Hurting for the family left behind. Grateful for their vision. Sad for their departure when so many need to hear/see/feel the love of Christ they were there to share. A few minutes after our group prayed for them, all our car drama ensued. Nevermind the rainbow of emotions that followed the next few hours. Even after I had calmed down that night I couldn’t bring myself to look up any news or information about the quake. I didn’t want more to have to think about.

On Thursday night I did look for info after a friend said he was trying to get there to help. I saw 6-10 pictures online and shut it down. How sick am I? That I can not handle the thought, the distraction of where my mind would go, to see and know what is happening just a boatride south of where I grew up. That I could refuse to be made aware shows the selfish sickness of my heart and mind.

Friday night, with the intensity of CT behind me, I finally gave in to what I knew I needed to really take in and witness through the now, readily available media.

I can never defend my selfishness, nor would I try. In the same token, I know I was scared. Scared to look. Scared to know. Descriptions in written word that may never leave my imagination. Images that would confirm it and be forever seared in my head. In my heart.

And now they are. And I don’t know what to do with them.

Our friend Blake left Monday with a team to do relief work in Haiti. I’ve been close to my phone all week watching twitter updates from each of them and rediscovering what it is to pray without ceasing. Their selflessness is exemplary. We truly have a friend who’s friendship we have loved for some time, but now, also a friend of whom we admire in a new way.

That’s where it at I think. We have to die to self.

We can’t all pick up & go. But we can choose to know and act and allow our hearts to be broken and reshaped.

I hate that side of me that is able to shut things off and compartmentalize. I am selfish with my time. With my attention. With the capacity of what I think my heart can take. It’s horribly, blaringly true.

I don’t know how I got here, but I know I don’t want to stay.

Brian & friends in Haiti, May 2009, serving together at the Hands & Feet Project in Jacmel. All the children there are safe! (friends from left with some of the children of H&FP: Jeremy Breland, Joe Leavitt, Chris Thomas, Blake Thompson, Brian, Bill Hampton & Jamie George)

[8:365]

[6&7:365]

See? Not even a week in and I’ve already dropped the ball.

The past few days have been nearly identical in many ways. I’ve been in Counselor Training for 10 hours each day, learning, gleaning, caffeinating, studying, applying, re-caffeinating, observing … you get the idea.

It’s been nothing short of amazing. Why was I nervous about this again?

[5:365)

Ahh, life is full of surprises, isn’t it? That would be Brian’ jeep being towed tonight.

He was on his way to get the girls from after-school-care while I was in counselor training. I had texted him earlier to say, don’t be late to get the girls!

So, when he texted at 15 til saying “call me.” I was concerned. I guess it’s just built into husbands and wives to know something is up because he was actually stranded in the middle of the road and his car was absolutely dead. As in, “Time of Death, 5:45pm” dead.

Graciously, our friend Paul help B push the car aside and brought him home and Diana picked the girls up from school. We towed the car, and honestly? I was really emotional. Are you shocked? I know. It’s not really even a big deal, except that this week we both actually need a car, and the girls are in after school care so I can do this, and -wow- isn’t the timing just ridiculous?! This would be a non-issue any other week. But not this week.

So Brian comes in the house and I’m standing against the wall crying, and he sits down on the couch and pats it and tell me to please have a seat and talk to him. And I’m all, “No! I’M the counselor, remember?!” I was shouting at him and we laughed so hard. Oh, it was good. It was good.

Thankfully, a friend who is out of town was glad for me to use her car for a couple days, so it is all set for me for morning.

So I’ve got 4 tires for sale. Less than 1,000 miles on them. And a car for parts, I think. We’ll have it checked out just in case before Bri’s team attempts to take him up on his offer to blow it up in one of their films.

Thank you Lord for great friends. And thank you that this isn’t a crisis. Just a really, really big inconvenience.

[4:365]

While mommy’s away, Daddy will (continue) cooking, Avery will wash dishes, and Taylor will take over camera duty.

New Stuff!

The Lord has a great sense of humor. Really. If you knew me 7 years ago you might find this absolutely hilarious. Or maybe like myself, you’d be humbled at how He works. This is one of those moments where a bunch of pixels have now formed a bit of an image. I’m not sure what it even is yet, but it’s finding some sort of form and beauty…

A few months back a friend stopped me in my tracks and asked me some questions about budgeting. I invited her over and we worked through some things together. I was happy to help, and hoped it helped. [nudge]

I was out shopping on Main Street in a gift shop when a sales lady approached me and offered to help. I told her I was on a budget and her head kind of cocked to the right. When she came to, she realized I meant it, and as we shopped together, she started asking me questions. One was, “What’s your story?” Funny. I gave her a less than 60 second blurb (not even the usual. I  felt prompted to share something specific) and she locked eyes with me, reached out to grab my hand and told me, “When you said you knew you were going to have to start over, that confirmed something the Lord has been stirring in my heart for some time. Thank you for sharing that with me.” “Oh… you’re welcome.” I told her. “No, really. Thank you” she said. I went in the shop a couple months later, and she threw her arms around my neck in the sweetest way. Wow. That doesn’t happen every day! [nudge]

It never fails that I can be out somewhere and someone asks, “So what does your husband do?” I thought no one was allowed to ask that in this town? Sometimes I say, “He’s a creative director.” and they nod their heads, but occasionally I drop the DR, “He does video production for Dave….” and it never fails, someone will offer up where they are in their baby steps, or suggest that they tried doing envelopes once but….

I love it! Everyone has to deal with money.

I met someone last year who I thought had the whole entire package wrapped up with an amazing poofy perfect bow. That was my first impression anyway. But everything isn’t what it seems, and she’s about to lose it all. As in, all. And I don’t know what to do. Or say. I don’t even know what to think half the time. So I cry with her on the phone so she isn’t alone, and I pray. And in the moments following my conversations with her, I recognize that although this is an extreme situation, I need to know how to have a productive talk with her. I need some insight into where she’s coming from.

I need to go to Counselor Training.

It has taken me months to even work up the courage to ask for an application. Once I got it? It took me another 2 months to fill it out. Fear & insecurity are not from our Heavenly Father.

When the Lord leads your heart toward something, He doesn’t just abandon you there. He doesn’t drop you off & wish you all the best! I truly desire to know how to help people. How to hear what they’re really saying and talk them through some options. How to answer their questions more confidently.

There has never been a question in my mind that my husband was called to his job here. Lampo exists to help people. It drives them, and so, it kind of overflows I guess because it’s my vision too. To see people do better with money. It makes me proud for them. It’s so motiviating when somebody gets it and gets focused! So, in the same way, I feel a responsibility as B’s wife to be able to intelligently help someone with questions about money. And I have to be prepared, because I meet them everywhere.

Well, anyway, I love the Lord’s perfect timing. Yesterday in church, our Pastor put it out that we are responsible to share what we’ve been shown.

okay, first … um … WHOA. We are responsible to share what we’ve been shown. It was Jesus’ custom, and so it should be ours as well. We have to be willing. We have to have the faith to GO and TRY. Wobbly knee’d and all…

So, those words yesterday fell on a thirsty anxious heart. My nerves have now been soothed, and although my stomach has some fluttery feelings … tomorrow I will move forward on what I know the Lord set on my heart to do many months ago. And what only His perfect timing could have held for me to hear yesterday. This week, I’ll go through Dave Ramsey’s Counselor Training.

Who’da thought, huh? God knew all along. And He put people in my life who shared this kind of help with Brian and I, so I am most blessed to be able, prayerfully, to pay it forward. And I think that’s what we’re supposed to do. Ask the Lord to lead, and then obey.

I’m excited. Light the way!

[3:365]

So…yesterday I was all rah! rah! organic eggs, rah! And this morning I had cereal for breakfast.

I was making lunches for the kids when I peeked over Brian’s shoulder as he was frying up some eggs for us and I saw a brown spot on one. “Is that a chicken egg?!?”

“Nooo. It’s a piece of shell.” he picked it out and cracked a 4th egg into the pan. “Hmm. THAT’S … a CHICKEN.” Ugh!!

What are the odds, right? Like, I’ve probably only seen 3 of those in my life. And then there was one right in that moment.

Ewwwwww. I was so grossed out but all I could do was laugh. And then, as B threw the whole pan of eggs in the garbage, I did quick math in my head and scowled. Organic dozen = 3 dozen at Costco. Whatever. Cage Free, Antibiotic Free, Hormone Free Eggs. I’m sure we are healthier today because we ate them yesterday.

Ten minutes later I finish eating my cereal and go back to packing the girls lunches. “Hey Avery! Where’s your lunchbox?” It’s their responsibility to put it away in the island after school each day.

“Ummm. In my backpack?”

silence. “You mean, from before your two snow days? And…. the weekend?“

“Uhhhh. huhhhh.”

I literally open this lunchbox to find uneaten creamy chicken noodle soup in a tupperware and made some very vocal aww man’s. But then? The smell hit me and I began dry heaving over the garbage can. blech! My best consolation was that of the sympathetic tone of Brian’s snickering.

[2:365]

Today we introduced ourselves to a new word: ORGANIC.