Some days...

I like this one--Han with curly hair. And thanks, sissy, for the Christmas present--she loves her JBU sweatshirt!

King Boris. He thinks he runs the place. :)

I'll give You everything I have, because I was undeserving, and You chose me. --Your Favor by Elevation Worship

So, let's be clear. It was all good until I went out to exercise. You see, I've been stuck in the apartment since Sunday with something that looked suspiciously like the flu (YUCK!), and today was going to be my day to get out and about. And what better way to do that than to exercise and walk around the neighborhood? So I was all good until that decision.

For a while, everything went well. I was listening to music, walking along, smiling at the dogwalkers, saying an occasional hello to folks I always see when I walk. And then, out of nowhere, I found myself with tears running down my face. DO YOU KNOW HOW NUTS THAT MAKES ME LOOK?!?!?!?! Completely nuts. So what happened? Well...it was (as it often is) a song that did me in. It was the song I quoted above, the song that Hannah sang at Marc's ordination at our church right before we came back to Europe. It was that song, you see. And it's not just the song, though it's gorgeous, and I love the sentiment--Your favor follows me. Your kindness leads me to a hope I cannot see. C'mon. Nothing wrong with that. It's all good stuff, right? But in my mind's eye, I could hear Hannah singing it. I could picture my parents as they sat there listening. I could see Sarah Beth crying as she listened to her sister, the baby she wanted to be a 'bruvver,' but who has grown up to be her friend. I didn't see it that night, the crying. People told me later. They said, "I was okay until I looked over and saw Sarah Beth sobbing over her sister. It was too much for me." And in my mind, I could clearly see that. Sarah Beth crying, heartbroken over the loss of her sister to a life that inevitably takes us away. And it was too much for me. So there I was, crying as I walked the streets of my neighborhood.

You know what we tell people? The people in churches who always say, "Thank you for your sacrifice"? We almost always tell them it's not a sacrifice. Or maybe we say that it doesn't seem like a sacrifice, this life that we--honestly--love and are so clearly called to. Don't read anything I'm about to say and take away the idea that we aren't called or that we're doubting that call. That's not it at all. But I'm going to be transparent and clear and--gasp!--vulnerable for a second. It's a sacrifice. Right now, this moment in time, this place in my life...it is a sacrifice. It is MUCH harder this time. No doubt about it. Leaving Sarah Beth on one continent while we are on another...it's awful. She is sick with some kind of bug right now. She wants her Momma. I hate it. I hate being away from her. I miss my parents terribly. Every single day. I miss my sisters. I miss my life. But most of all, I miss my baby. It makes my heart ache. And it makes me cry on the streets of the city I'm called to love.

And this can take an ugly turn, if I let it. It can go from "I'm homesick," to "So-and-so never calls. They don't even think about us," in about two seconds flat. And that turns into, "It must be nice to get to live down the street from your kid/parents/church. Wish God let ME do that." Oh, and THAT is dangerous territory, isn't it? To be flippant and ugly to the God of the Universe is no little thing. To doubt that what He has for us--even in the desperate missing of our girl, even in her loneliness for us--it is as close to blasphemy as I can imagine. Do you know the blessings of my life? Do you know the absolute shower of goodness He rains on me daily? He meets me at ridiculous times of the morning EVERY DAY to sit and have a cup of coffee. He listens to me. He gave me Marc and Sarah Beth and Hannah and John John. He gave me Ken and Betty and Kay and Cathy and all the names that go with those names...a close family...not distant relations...not call on holidays kind of family. I have REAL family. Blessings all mine. All mine. All bestowed from the giver of all good gifts. Who am I to question? Who am I to resent?Who, exactly, do I think I am in the face of who He absolutely is?

It doesn't surprise God that I'm homesick. It doesn't shock Him that I miss my girl or that Han and John miss their sister terribly. Nope. One of my favorite songs says it perfectly--all this was just part of Your glorious design. How can I, in the face of His incredible plan for my life, say anything but, "Hallelujah. Amen." I will not walk down the road of bitterness and comparison. I will choose to be grateful for the thousand blessings that are undeservedly mine. And I'll hope that my neighbors don't think I'm completely nuts. :) Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you know that He is still God, even when you're sick and want your Momma, and that you are making dinner for a much beloved friend, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye