blended families Archives – Facets of Faith

We sat at our table in Panera to discuss life, friendship, oh . . .and Facets of Faith. We share a meal, catch up on life, and then turn our attention to what needs to be discussed for this ministry we get to do together. This particular time we were brainstorming topics for the coming spring, settling in on the month of May.

What about discussing the topic of change? Everyone faces it. The three of us nodded our heads, each thinking about the myriad of change we’ve experienced throughout our lives. One of us, probably Tracy, turned serious. You know if we write about it, we’re going to have to live it. We groaned. We knew if we said yes to this topic, chances were change was on the horizon. Little did we really know. You can check in with what Tracy and Jen shared earlier this month by clicking on their names. As for me? Well, as I often say . . .welcome to my world.

Change

As I reflect over my forty(cough) years, I can confidently say that the one constant has been change. As soon as life seemed to settle in somewhat of a predictable pattern, change would trip me up.

…let God transform you into a new person by changing the way you think.” Romans 12:2b, NLT

Most recently? A cross-country move with my still-newlywed husband and three stepkiddos. To many that may not seem like too big of a deal, but for those who know me? Yeah, it was exactly what I said I would never do.

So I thought I’d offer you a glimpse into how I processed this life-changing um, change.

Phase One: Stare

It started with a FB message asking if I knew anyone looking to for a job as a Children’s Director. The one asking? An old boss of mine. And he wasn’t just any boss, he was a favorite. The one I said I’d work for again in a heart beat.

Huh. Perhaps I shouldn’t have said that because his request? It was for a job in Massachusetts a thousand miles away. I sat in my car (which may or may not have been moving) and read his message. . .over and over. I figured if I stared at it long enough, maybe it would change. The words might morph or simply disappear. But like watching those pimple-popping videos (don’t judge), I simply couldn’t look away. And before I knew it, I entered Phase Two.

Phase Two: Doubt

The funny thing was that he wasn’t asking me if I wanted the job. He was simply asking if I knew anyone looking for a job. The thing that he didn’t know that I knew that had just happened? I was leaving a retreat where I sensed God leading me to resign from my current position to get ready for whatever came next.

For just as the heavens are higher than the earth, so my ways are higher than your ways and my thoughts higher than your thoughts.” Isaiah 55:9, NLT

Surely God wasn’t asking me to move to Massachusetts. Surely He knew I said I would never move away from my parents, my friends, and my youngest daughter’s grave (click here for more of that story). Surely He wasn’t asking me to do that. Not that kind of change. No, the kind of change God would ask about was comfortable and local and not requiring much risk. Right? (insert eye-roll emoji here times seven)

But then it happened . . .Phase Three.

Phase Three: Wonder

After about the ninth time reading that stinkin’ FB message, I began to wonder. Could this be? Was this it? Was this what God was preparing me for —this particular change? Only it wasn’t just a career change. It was a house change and school change and a job-for-my-husband change. It was a family change and friend change and who-the-heck-is-asking-anyway change.

For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago.” Ephesians 2:10

And yet I couldn’t stop the idea from rolling around. New England was pretty and it was close to my oldest daughter. The job was intriguing and so was working for this leader again. The challenge and expectations. The teamwork and iron-sharpening-iron-ing. I traveled to Massachusetts, was offered the job, and worked for a year all in a matter of minutes as I sat in my car until Phase Four knocked on the window.

Phase Four: Worry

How would moving actually work? What would happen? What about the kids? My husband? My parents? What about my friends? My time? How would we pay our bills?

Question tumbled over question in an effort to gain my attention. Every worse case scenario begged to be recognized as my heart gripped in fear.

Five more minutes passed and now I was fired and homeless because I wasn’t who I used to be. Tears blurred my vision. Was God really asking me what I think He was asking me?

Was I willing to take a risk, to not only change but to be open-handed with my future and embrace the change?

And we know that God causes everything to work together[m] for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them.” Romans 8:28

I sat with that question for moment, suddenly longing for jelly beans and a Diet Coke —my go-to staples in stress. But then I tip-toed into Phase Five.

Phase Five: Faith

I thought about previous seasons of change where I saw evidence of God’s faithfulness. My heart began to yearn for more than a sugar buzz as I turn to the true source of hope, to the One who never changes.

I remember other seasons of change when God revealed Himself in ways that exceeded my expectations, that blew past my understanding, and ignited a holy imagination flamed only by the power of His Spirit. When I felt the breath of eternity brush against my cheek and remind me of His goodness and grace.

Now all glory to God, who is able, through his mighty power at work within us, to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think. “ Ephesians 3:20

I began to savor the delicacy Scripture offered. Its truth. Its hope. Story after story of God’s steadfastness and loving kindness.

As the worst-case-scenario reels began to play, I paused and gave thanks for the ways He has redeemed every broken piece of my heart and restored every broken dream of my soul.

Give thanks to the Lord and proclaim his greatness. Let the whole world know what he has done.” 1 Chronicles 16:8

I’ve become a stalwart of faith . . . no. Not really. There’s a reason I’m a connoisseur of jelly beans and it isn’t because my faith is strong. He is. He is my strength and my salvation, my rock to whom I cling. And every time I entered a season of change, which seems to happen all.the.time…I go in kicking and screaming but come out with a renewed picture of God’s character, a glimpse of His longing to help in times of trouble and change, and a sense that He is at work in my life through each and every season.

Fast forward a few months and here I sit in a home in Massachusetts. I said yes to the possibility of change that day in my car. Yes to trusting God with the details. Yes to following Him even when the pathway through change has been muddy and unclear. Yes to this life of adventure and obedience.

And while I may have jelly beans and a Diet Coke next to me at this moment, I realize the way I go through change is by fixing my eyes on Jesus, the true Author and finisher of my faith. Because the only way through change is, well, through. But with Him, all things are possible. Even navigating change.

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a huge crowd of witnesses to the life of faith, let us strip off every weight that slows us down, especially the sin that so easily trips us up. And let us run with endurance the race God has set before us. We do this by keeping our eyes on Jesus, the champion who initiates and perfects our faith” Hebrews 12:1-2a

How do you navigate change? Join the conversation by posting below or jumping over to our Facebook page. Either way, I’d love to hear from you!

We’re talking marriage this month at Facets of Faith, answering the question: how is God helping me bloom through my marriage. Tracy and Jen shared already, be sure to check out their posts. Today it’s my (Kim’s) turn, so here we go!

He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me . . . he loves me not.

Last week was the 20th anniversary of my first wedding for a marriage that lasted fourteen years. Fourteen years of holding my breath, slowly plucking at each flower petal as I wondered and waited. He loves me. Chaos and crisis defined most of our years together, until like the failing rose in Beauty and the Beast, the remaining petal shriveled and died. He loves me not.

Marriage scared me. Or more accurately, intimacy did. Could I trust someone with my whole heart again? Was I willing to take the risk of allowing someone near? There was so much pain and sorrow, I wasn’t sure.

A little more than four years ago, in a burst of courage, I signed up for one of those dating websites. Yep, that was me. My divorce was final and I wanted to meet new people. Nervously, I filled out my profile, trying to determine how much to share and what to keep close.

Simple questions like listing the number of kids sent waves of anxiety over me. Who will want to deal with that, I wondered. I decided to stay vague. Vagueness protected. Vagueness kept others at bay.

Emails started filling my inbox. One by one, I hit delete. Until I saw his picture. Peering close, I noticed a child’s hand on his shoulder. Intrigued, I clicked on his profile. There wasn’t much but something in his picture stirred something in me. What the heck, I thought. I hit reply and a tiny shoot broke through the earth.

God had been doing a tender work in me throughout this dark season. He compassionately pulled up weeds of pride and bitterness. He whispered words of love and hope nurturing my soul and restoring the nutrients I so desperately needed to heal my broken heart.

Forgiveness. Compassion. Grace. But I didn’t see the rest of what He was preparing for me, not right away.

Through a series of emails we began to learn about each other, this man and I. We found out we graduated the same year from rival high schools and liked the same cars. We both loved kids and each had a few of our own. Then came the surprise, the one thing I couldn’t ignore.

We both lost a child.

In that moment as I read his words, it looks like we have something else in common, I tasted the grace of God’s goodness. It was as if I were infused with oxygen and could freely breathe again. Not because of this man, but because of how God chose to use this man. That tiny bud began to reach toward the sun. It had been so long . . .

His son, Timmy, died when he was four. He drowned in their swimming pool. My daughter, Emma, died when she was five in a fire that destroyed our home. I remember writing to him that if nothing else, we were going to be good friends. We shared a bond that most, thankfully, do not. We tasted the bitterness of sorrow so deep that changes our very soul.

I often think about that moment, that first bit of connection we felt before we ever met. I tasted hope that day and it was refreshing and good.

For I am about to do something new. See, I have already begun! Do you not see it? I will make a pathway through the wilderness. I will create rivers in the dry wasteland.” Isaiah 43:19, NLT

One email led to another until we finally talked on the phone. Eventually, we decided to meet and last month we celebrated our first wedding anniversary. A day, quite honestly, I never thought I’d celebrate again, but only for God’s mercy and grace.

This may sound a little cheesy, but let’s face it, this entire post has that flavor . . . but I feel myself coming alive each day I wake as Russ’s wife. I experienced so much sorrow and death that I became accustomed to its weight around my shoulders. It was like the comfortable sweatshirt I know is ripped and torn, yet feels so safe and warm. Being Russ’s wife helps me learn a new way of life as we embrace the dance of living with grief because he knows it, too.

I never knew being married was like this. I understood the hard part – the in sickness and in bad times. But this good part? The laughter, the fun, the encouragement, the genuine enjoyment? It’s new and like a refreshing rain nourishing the soil God tilled and prepared.

He hugs me at night and whispers I have the best wife ever. It doesn’t matter if I was grumpy or frustrated, if I disciplined his kids or forgot to make dinner. His whispered words of love saturate my mending heart with hope. Hope that marriage is what I thought it could be, hope that two people could not only love each other, but like each other, as well.

My husband stands up for me and protects me. He remains firm when I feel rocked by the waves of fear and anxiety. He longs to provide not only for my needs, but even some of my wants. And he tries to make me smile and laugh every. single. day. Almost to a fault, but it makes me love him even more.

He offers me a glimpse of the love and protection God has for me. I feel safe and secure as I learn more about him, about Jesus, and about myself. I’m beginning to take risks where fear would have won and I’m stepping toward dreams because my husband loves to encourage me on.

Our marriage isn’t perfect, but it’s ours and it’s good. We brought some carts of baggage to our marriage, but somehow we ended up with a beautiful matching set.

Somehow.

No, God did that . . . that’s how.

I will restore to you the years that the swarming locust has eaten.” Joel 2:25, ESV

How does God speak to you through your spouse? In your marriage? Join the conversation by sharing a comment below or on our Facebook page.

Change, Faith, and Jelly Beans