Steering my own course

Why, after all this time, do I continue to come up with ideas and then try to steer everyone involved in that direction. Even when people are warning me. Even when I have doubts. I am a risk taker. I like change. I get bored easily. I hate being hemmed in. I like to steer.
The best learning experience God ever gave me was to hem me in for eight years. I had to deal with it. I had to seek Him and trust that He had not forgotten me. I had to trust His timing. I was bored at times. I was restless. I became self-righteous and hurt others. I was humbled. Pride took a fall and I saw God's hand at work.

I scream inside when I want something and it is not easily in my grasp. This is usually a good thing - even godly - but the course that I think I should be cruising on veers off into a different direction. No one buys my rationalizations or reasons that I am trying to use.

God is good that way - cutting through (my crap) my independent desires and showing me that He has a plan. I know if I drop my plans and look to Him to fulfill me that He will not disappoint. Pray that I will look to Him for His ways and His timing, not mine!!!!!!

Harry

Harry is actually Harriet - a woman who has been in the women's house for almost two years. Everyone in the women's house has some sort of nickname, so they call Harriet: Harry or Larry. She is blooming into a beautiful young woman who radiates God's love. She has a 5-year old son, Eli, and is learning to care for him well when he comes to visit. He lives with Harriet's mother and father. Harriet has had a difficult relationship with her mother since her teen years. This past Sunday her parents came to the Betel church to visit and to pick up Eli after he had spent the weekend with his mom in the women's house. We were sitting directly behind them. Harriet's mom seemed particularly moved by the worship and started wiping away tears. Harry turned to her mom and put her arms around her and kissed her cheek. I teared up as I watched, wishing I could put my arms around my mom and give her a kiss one more time. But I was also left in wonder at how God has worked in Harry's life - how she used to wear all black and pull her hoodie over her face so you couldn't even see her. She has been plagued with bad dreams for years, but now is experiencing more and more peaceful nights. Nowadays she stands up straight, looks you in the eye, dresses nicely, hugs her mom and cares for her son. This is the life she was made for. God is faithful and good.

School stuff - I don't get it.

September has flown by - from the beginning week when we were scrambling to get all the school stuff together - mostly uniforms and gym kits. I still feel like I am punching in the dark with school stuff here.....not quite sure that I have all the information that I need. The British moms just seem to know how it all works while I am the one who has to find out stuff like Christopher didn't get a locker this year because we did not know that we had to reserve it. They gave his old locker to someone else and now he is on a waiting list. I always feel as if I am on slippery ground when they use the acronyms like GCSE's (still not sure what it stands for, but it means intense tests at the end of year 11) or PHCES (Personal heath and citizenship something). After four years I feel I have barely cracked the system and now my boys are all in different schools so that means three schools to keep up with. The schools are good - the teachers are interested and engaged and they give the kids lots of opportunity to grow in personal interests. Christopher can stay after school any day of the week and work on either art projects or computer projects. Peter has been accepted for the after school computer club. Paul's school is doing an excellent job in giving him opportunities to develop a well-rounded resume. He is part of an extend class where he mentors younger students both academically and socially. They are helping him explore the opportunities to participate in either a volunteer program or a work study program. I am impressed with their level of care and direction that the teachers give. So I am pleased with the education that they are receiving, I just wish I didn't come out looking like a ninny at times. This year I am just going to try to make sure I know which days are uniform days and which days are non-uniform days. I get a very sinking feeling in my gut when I walk Peter to school and he is the only one in his uniform. I think they do it on purpose just to keep me confused.

To be found worthy of my calling

We left Spain on Friday. As we flew above Madrid the landscape was all browns, dotted with bits of green which are the olive trees or grapevines. But, mostly brown. Loads of sunshine. Clear skies for a long time as we gained altitude.

Then, an hour and half later, we started to descend. London was covered in a thick layer of clouds. Thick layer. But when we broke through, it was all green, like a patchwork quilt of greens, dotted with sheep. Cloudy, rainy and cool. And I was happy to be back. Happy to be in my own home, but also happy to return to this green lovely place, despite the weather.

Last night we had to sleep with all the windows closed as it was downright chilly! This next week the high is to be 65 F. The high! Sounds good if you are in a heatwave, but in reality, it feels quite chilly. We are all sitting around in sweatshirts and sweaters. We went from 100F in Spain to 64F.

All this difference in temperature reminds me how different this home is from my other home- Alabama. How different the culture is - how I miss my friends and church. I figure this land needs a little warmth - and a lot of Jesus. Can I be salt? Can I, as broken and sinful as I am, convey Christ to those around me? Luckily Christ is in control, not me. His name will go forth, unhindered, despite my mistakes and distractions. How I pray to be found worthy of my calling.

Goodbyes to Alabama

While I was in Alabama I tried to live in the moment and really see and feel things that were distinctly "home" to me.
I listened to the crickets, frogs and cicadas. Each morning I would look out the window and all except one day were sunshine, blue skies. I sat out on Jenny's front porch in her porch swing and felt how the humidity truly wraps itself around every part of your body. (I wish I could save that feeling for the middle of the winter here. It is just the opposite here - there almost always seems to be an underlying coolness to the air. Our house in England is almost always on the cool side.) I also napped on Jenny's porch swing after eating a red Popsicle. I drove in Alabama with the windows down (when possible) to smell the trees - the pines. I took in the dogwoods and crepe myrtles, as well as the kudzu. I listened to the birds -(very different from England's grumpy crows and magpies.) I walked barefoot in thick cool grass. I slapped mosquitoes. I watched salamanders. I stood still in the dark between the Boykins and Claytons houses and saw a lightning bug. I loved the loud dramatic thunder storms. I also loved the sweet familiar southern drawl - especially in the children. I loved being somewhere where I sound like everyone else.

So I say goodbye, Alabama and all that it is to me.

I will miss my friends, my church, my family.
I will miss spicy BBQ, homemade fries, onion rings and sweet tea refills.
Cold watermelon. Fresh tomatoes.
I will miss lunch at the Summit, giggles by the pool and Sonic happy hours.
Swimming like a kid. Swimming with my kids - all five of them together.
The music at our church. Elizabeth at the cello and Connie on the violin. Beautiful worship.

Yesterday I had to go by the doctor's office next door to my house here in England. I was talking to the lady at the desk and when I was done, I turned to leave and the three people in the waiting room were looking at me. At first I was puzzled, then I remembered. My accent. I am different. I smiled and left. Sweet home Alabama.