fleeting breaths and passing shadows...

O LORD, what are human beings that you should notice them, mere mortals that you should think about them?
For they are like a breath of air, their days are like a passing shadow.

Psalm 144:3-4

my life is lost in self...

moments [both beautiful and devastating] blend together...become this life. so temporary and yet so constant as to seem eternal. it surrounds me...looming and ominous...i'm consumed in living it...

i join with the rest of us in 'who-ville' [that tiniest of specks on this tiniest of flowers we call earth] going about our day.thinking ourselves large. forgetting how insignificant we are in comparison...

how limited our thoughts.understanding.

we are frail.volatile.flawed beings whose years pass in a breath [like the shadow as the cloud passes over] and they are gone.

truly the enormity and infinite nature of the One who placed us here could dwarf us into the inconsequential...

yes. all could seem meaningless...were it not for one truth...

He.cares.

God Almighty does take notice...He desires to dwell with us [dwell in us] here. He inserts His infinite into our limits...

we want our few days fleshed out in bodies of dust to mean something...become anything more than what they are. we join our voices.shouting 'we are here! we are here! we are here!'.

..and He hears. He hears...and turns His face...

these momentary breaths and tiny movements, they matter to Him. we let go of trying.place them [our insignificant offerings] into His hands. like a droplet into a pool of water the ripples begin to reach out.extending far beyond what we see.impacting far more than we could possibly know.and so existing long after they are gone.

we close our eyes for perspective.we shut our ears and listen with our souls.

the truth. He is God. He is involved. one day we will know the vastness of what He has created...

from fleeting breaths and passing shadows.

like a weaned child...

Psalm 131

Lord, my heart is not proud; my eyes are not haughty. I do not get involved with things too great or too difficult for me. Instead, I have calmed and quieted myself like a little weaned child with its mother; I am like a little child. 
Israel, put your hope in the Lord, both now and forever. 

i've been thinking on this psalm the last few days...

not because i relate...but because i want to.

check my soul-state during most moments.most days...

calmed and quieted it is not.

...anxious?...overwhelmed?...fearful?

more likely.

so picturesque...the carefree child.calm in the arms of a loving mother. her presence is known.her care understood. what could possible weigh on such a mind?...there is only rest.

oh that we could be...would be...that little child with our Father. aware He is present.trusting in His proven character.resting in His unconditional love.confident in the provision of His capable hands.

time after time we have seen His faithfulness. we have no doubt He can be trusted. there is no need to be weighed down with thoughts of things we can't fully understand or handle.

we are calmed.quieted.

contrast that image with one of a flailing newborn.so unfamiliar with its environment.even with its own body.grasping.wailing.reaching for a mother's breast. desperate for pleas to be heard and needs to be met...still learning to trust the one in whose care it remains...still testing the faithfulness of her response. 

even so...we too can become frantic with concern over things beyond our ability.control.understanding. things too great and difficult...a weight on our soul.choking out peace...there is no rest.

our heart is left flailing like the newborn's limbs.

but eventually...just as the infant learns to rest in the care of its mother...becomes a trusting child at her feet...we too remember to put our hope in Him.in Him alone.

again.and again.we must calm.quiet our chaotic soul...think only of the One with whom we dwell.listen only to His voice.trust only His understanding.rest only in His plan and sufficiency.

carefree children then.we walk the road...one.step.at a time...souls lighter...His presence carrying away each weighty.worrisome thought like a breeze..

calmed.quieted.contented children in the care of the Father...

no matter what we encounter along the way.no matter how little of it we really understand.

it's not fair!...

not long ago i was talking consequences with my eight-year-old for her attitude. with tear-filled eyes she looked at me in anger and said, 'it's not fair!'

i had to laugh at the irony of her statement (though i refrained from doing so audibly...100 parenting points...scored)...

her situation was the very essence of fairness...the law of sowing and reaping at its finest. she was receiving the fruit of her actions, and what she really meant was, 'i'm not happy!'

somewhere in her little mind the two have become synonymous...happiness and fairness. when she's not happy...life is completely unfair...and i am obviously a horribly, oppressively, unforgivably mean person who cares nothing for her at all! hmphh!

i took a step back, and in those angry tears i saw a reflection...because somewhere along the way...well...maybe i've equated the two as well.

i don't want to!

it's too hard!

but GooOOoOOOddd!

and with a little stomp of the foot (just for effect) i huff: 

it's.not.fair!....

hmphh!

yes...as i walk through the department store of life with Jesus...sometimes i am the tantrum-throwing toddler (spiritually speaking...of course) and He the ever-patient parent...waiting for me to get a grip...and think about things rationally for crying out loud!

...the overflow of my childish emotions subsides and i get a little perspective...

 

not fair? seriously? let's talk about not fair...

let's talk about grace, redeeming a soul...lost of its own wandering...

                ...perfection becoming my mess...

let's talk about love, pursuing a heart that could never fully reciprocate...

                ....tiny gifts...never measuring up to all He is...

                     ...and never having to...

let's talk about mercies, new with .every.sunrise...

                ...no matter how countless the nights spent questioning...

let's talk about thoughts innumerable toward one so quick to distraction...

               ...willing heart...weak flesh...

let's talk about records of wrongs...destroyed...gone forever...

               ...shredded and thrown to the wind...

                   ...a watergate scandal of eternal proportions!

i was so right! nothing about this life i live is fair...in Christ i've exchanged all i deserve for more than i could possibly think or imagine. 

so when i'm tempted to clench my fists and grumble of unhappiness...(and there is plenty of it in this broken place we journey)...may i instead get over myself and never stop praising God for...

or leading others to...

this life of utter unfairness.

there is a purpose....there is a plan.

i watch her...

so much promise...risking it all because she's afraid she'll never find someone with enough love in their heart for both her and Jesus...

counsel falls on deaf ears and faithfulness to God and His Word fades with each compromise...

i am burdened and i remember...

there is a purpose...there is a plan.

i watch them...

purpose overshadowed by disconnect and conflicting passions...the target of an enemy who hates the family God has established...

all that Jesus desires to do through them...sacrificed on altars built to the temporary...

i wish her heart were open and do my best to reach out...

there is a purpose...there is a plan.

i watch him...

memories flood my mind of how he has spit and cursed...trying to convince us he doesn't need the love and acceptance we're offering...

every day the offer stands...and every day he throws it away...choosing instead to keep his grip on the anger and resentment choking his soul...

we keep the offer on the table and trust...

there is a purpose...there is a plan.

i watch her...

lips curved in a smile...her spirit sweet despite the pain of circumstance.  her eyes, much older than her eleven years, beg for a hug.

i wrap my arms around her and try not to imagine the events she has endured...the reality she faces every day...

i wonder about her future...and her present...i grab hold as i repeat to myself...

there is a purpose...there is a plan. 

i watch them...

a smile on my face as the love they've found in Jesus spills over onto the little children surrounding them...

the same way the baptismal waters of a bathtub did three months ago when they publicly professed their faith...

yes...there is a purpose...there is a plan...

sometimes it seems to allude me...so far removed from my understanding or abilities...

and sometimes it screams out in the enormity of what God is doing all around me...

but...realized or not...it is there...

and i can breathe...resting...trusting the heart of the One who put it into motion...

cross-cultural schizophrenia

re-entry...

transition...

the process i go through no matter which 'home' i'm heading to or from...

being cross-cultural is a little like being schizophrenic...

let me explain.

i land in america...i am overcome with things like...

color, manicured lawns, cleanliness, comfort, ease, abundance, busyness, media, entertainment, opportunity...

it's almost too much...my senses can't handle it all...

like spending too much time at the mall perfume counter...all the beautiful scents swarm together into one slightly nauseating cloud of overwhelming smell...

suddenly life in mongolia seems simple...meaningful...desirable...

oh, not in the everyday survival of it all...but in the way it makes my heart sensitive to the deeper things of life...eternity...God. i face them head-on...every day...i have no choice...

 

and also in the way it makes me giddy over the little things...like cheddar cheese and hot showers.

a person doesn't (or can't) fully appreciate all they have...until they don't have it.

last week i re-entered our mongolian home...

land at the airport...sit in traffic for three hours ...stare at the monochrome, cement landscape...come home to jackhammers at our doorstep and a freezing apartment void of heat and lacking the hot water needed to wash off my 36 hour trip across the pacific...

geez!...

waking up to reality can be a real kick in the pants!

and suddenly life in america seems better...easier...desirable...

with a nostalgic smile on my face i think...'wasn't it glorious standing at the counter and taking in all the wonderful smells?'

and voices in my head say 'make up your mind crazy lady!'

the diagnosis?...cross-cultural schizophrenia....

...i am...a crazy woman.

but really i'm not...i'm just learning (and learning and learning) what it means to be content...in only Jesus...wherever whenever whatever...

it's actually something i believe we all need to be learning...it's just that somehow i seem to have gotten myself enrolled in the accelerated course...

(fyi...i'm struggling to keep up with the class load!)

paul said he learned to be content both in plenty and in need...and i say 'kudos brother!' because i'm not sure i have...

in plenty...

what we have, and the opportunity to have even more, take over our passions... 

in need...

what we could have does the same.

so my challenge today...to you and to myself...

is to pursue contentment...

in nothing, i mean it, nothing outside of Jesus...

to surrender...

not qualifying it with what we might gain...

to worship...

with every.thing every.day...

trusting Him with the results...

and for no other reason than...

He's worthy.

basking in the beauty of weakness...

weakness...

target it...overcome it...or mask it...

but never embrace it...

because it is synonymous with

...inability...failure...deficiency...                                        

yet...when we tear away the facade...isn't it the place we all dwell most in our lives?

i read about paul today...and his weakness (2 corinthians 12:8-10)...

he didn't tell me what it was...just that it was ongoing...a constant source of torment and struggle...and something he begged God to take away on more than one occasion...

i can't speak for you...but me? i know a thing or two about ongoing struggle...

and my lips have definitely formed at least a hundred prayers like paul's...

'please God...

won't you just make it all go away?'

and God's response?...

'actually....no. 
you don't need fixing...you need grace...

and in me there is more than enough... 

because i hate to tell you, but i do my best work with weakness...' 

wait...what was that?...He won't fix me?...He's not most glorified in my perfection?

no...


because when we feel God's embrace...

knowing He understands the depth of our brokenness...

and when we experience His grace...

transforming us as it heals that brokenness...

and when we watch His power...

working through us despite that brokenness....

we are awed...

                  we stand up...

                             a living testament to how amazing He is...

an encouragement to fellow weaklings...

                  we hurl that facade as far as we can and shout...  

'I AM WEAK!! HE IS STRONG!!'         

 

we understand, with paul, this state of weakness...

...this place of colliding with the grace and sufficiency of God...
...it is beautiful....
                  breathtaking....

and we revel in it.

 

we want nothing more than to know our own limitation...

        ...revealing His ability!

...and He is glorified...

we are a people saved by grace...yes...

but how wonderful to be a people sustained by it as well.

the oddball...

it's true...i'm a little....different...

(literary pause for the snide remarks of my dearest friends)

but really...

is there anything in life that makes a girl feel more out of place than...say...

moving to mongolia?

this.....

is how i feel most days...

after five years...people still stop in their tracks to gawk at me...and maybe snap a photo or two as i walk down the street.

and in my (far)less-than-perfect mongolian...i still say things like 'if your son has wool draining from his eyes...you should get some antibiotic ointment.'

...well...i guess so...

and, yes, i still see the value of refrigerating the yogurt over the canned soup in my local grocer's aisle...


*sigh* the list could go on and on...

as long as i live here...i am and always will be...different.

and let's not even talk about what a freak i am when i head back to the states, right?

some spend their lives striving for uniqueness...but me?...most days i just want to blend in. to get swallowed up in the sea of conformity and be treated just like everyone else...

the word 'foreigner' in mongolian has the same root as the word 'outside'...i'm an outsider...and the term is woven into every fiber of my existence...


at the store...

'hey look...an outsider just walked in!'

in a taxi...

'hey! i just picked up an outsider'...

(translation...i'm about to make at least 3x my usual fare)

on the playground...

'look, my child, that's not a mongolian is it?...

no that's an outsider'

but as tiring as it can be to hear this every day, everywhere i go...it can serve as a beautiful reminder ~if i let it~...

no matter where i am...as a Jesus follower...i'm called to be an outsider.

not in a 'check-out-that-weirdo' kind of way...

but in a 'that chick gets something i don't...and i need to find out what it is' kind of way...

God's word tells us to transcend...

to fix our minds on the eternal above the temporal.

to make our lives about so much more than the 

meaninglessness that ensnares so many around us...

but when my life happens in a place of comfort...where the motivations and striving of those around me are so familiar...and my role in them so clearly defined...

i hardly notice i'm being sucked in...

i forget...i'm actually still an outsider.

thankfully in mongolia...where no matter how long or hard i try...i'll always stick out like a hobo at the opera...

it's a little easier to remember...

that my culture isn't really found in any country on this planet...

that my identity is actually intertwined with Jesus...

to the point of being indistinguishable...

that my world-view is formed...

no...transformed...

by the truth on the tissue-thin pages of a Book

...breathed by God Himself...

you and i?...we're outsiders...

by His grace so beautifully not of this world...

by His love so contently uncomfortable in it...