front lines

I feel a little like I might be limping to the finish line of our ministry-laden March, but we are certain to finish it out in due course, right?  

There are things about working in ministry on the Rez that are really difficult to put into words but I know they must be real because I'm not the only one who experiences it.  Sometimes I think, "I really want to write about this" so I can share and hopefully encourage and challenge others to see God's faithfulness, but when I try to write, the thoughts and concepts are so tangled that I don't often know where to start. {And in my effort to be realistic, I also sometimes feel like I end up with a "downer" of a post, or that I'm going to sound really depressed when I'm not.  After gradually easing into the knowing of these things you kind of learn to live with the knowing of them without being constantly devastated by the brokenness it reveals.}

 Someone recently said to me, "I did not know what true spiritual warfare was until my first trip to the reservation."  Whew!  Sometimes I convince myself I am imagining the dark cloud of difficulty or even sorrow that gathers.  Sometimes the struggle is my own doing, consequences for choices I'm making about my sleep, my attitude, my habits.   Sometimes it's sorrow directly related to sorrow over things I carry now, things I know. Sometimes the struggle is clearly a direct attempt to discourage and disable: opposition.  

We know that as God's children we have an enemy.  We know that when we are engaging in the front lines of ministry the enemy would surely rather us not be successful.  We know that the enemy of our souls prowls like a lion seeking to devour.  We also know we have nothing to fear because of the lover of our souls.  Here on the Rez we are without a doubt on the front lines of the Kingdom of God.  Our lives intentionally center around serving and loving "the least of these" within a people group that is so marginalized that many people talk about them in the past tense. "When the Indians lived..."  "The Indians did..."  

I believe God protects our church family mightily from deep darkness all around.  I believe He completely controls the suffering His children encounter and experience.  I believe He means all of the things we walk through to be for our good - no, not an abstract version of "good"-  He has in mind the deepest, most beautiful healing of our selves.

Bear in mind that as I write these things I am thinking of children I have seen recently with suspicious bruises.  Of a child who never has adequate clothing for the weather.  Of a young mom I came in contact with today who told me her brother passed away in a fatal car wreck in her own car last week.  I'm thinking of children who haven't got any running water at their house; of a family with several precious children that didn't even have a door on their house for a significant part of last year; of a couple that lived in a tent last summer and now live in an RV with a leaky roof.  

I'm also thinking of how the Lord has met each of those scenarios with His love now and His promise of care for the future.  How the children I worry over have tasted the goodness of His love and safety through the church.  How the mother got a listening ear and got to see her young children having fun in a safe place today.  How the children without water have had showers and care at the home of some of our friends.  How the missing door was replaced by some of the men from our church, and how the man and woman in the RV can have a double understanding of what it is like to be cared for by the Lord, an understanding I may never fully grasp in this lifetime.  His healing touch is merciful and perfect in His time.   

I can say that all our experiences are meant for the healing of our souls because He promises it, not because I never doubt it.  Sometimes I can't touch that in my mind, sometimes my heart is too broken to land on the truth of His goodness, and then I do sob.  But soon the reminders come: This world is not our home.  This sorrow is fleeting.  Jesus knows our every weakness. Jesus loves the little children.  Jesus suffered first for us. Joy comes in the morning.  

"Come then, my beloved, my lovely one come.
For see, winter is past, the rains are over and gone." (NJB Song of Solomon 2:10)

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I am working on Lyddie's Suzanne sweater in KnitPicks DK Swish.  Her chest measurement is small so I am knitting a smaller size but forgot to adjust the sleeve length and just had to rip it back to increase the length of the sleeve.  The multicolored yarn was a beautiful gift from a sweet reader here and I can't wait to plan a project for it - possibly a sweater for Millie next.  

dream

  

The days are not lazy here at all, though I wish they were.  Here and there, we bounce from one thing to the next all day right now and I am looking forward to the long days of summer arriving soon. That might be a first for me to say since moving here four years ago because the summers are my loneliest time here, and I have usually felt a measure of anxiety about that but not this year for some reason.  I'm so glad and thankful that I am able to just feel anticipation for good things coming this summer, even if I have no idea yet what those things will be.  I think I am a bit less lonely these days as my dear girls get older; they are no replacement for my friendships with other women but those friendships would also be no replacement for a quiet blooming friendship with one's daughters.

If there has been any knitting time, I have mostly been knitting the little cotton cardigan for Millie and I am certain I will run short of yarn, as I suspected I  might, and will have to order another skein.  On days where there is a little extra knitting time I can squeeze in, I've cast on some little secret knitting in gray too.  And on Monday when our family observes Sabbath rest, I began embroidering kitchen towels from Alicia's free patterns - oh they are adorable and my little country kitchen would be a perfect place for them!  I am going to stitch each one in a different color.  It felt like such a luxury to spend time just lingering over setting up that project in the midst of a busy time, setting aside the "shoulds" for awhile and being quiet.

I am often now dreaming of projects, dreaming of sewing clothes for myself that would turn out perfect and darling (not much chance of that) and dreaming of little items to add to my girls' wardrobe - cropped little pants for Lyddie with thrifted chambray, soft and cool summer nightgowns, sundresses.  Sort of simple dreams and I'm not sure why suddenly they are so present in my mind but I'm waiting for moments to make them real and those moments haven't come yet but I'm not worried.  

I had the privilege this month of leading a sewing workshop with a few of the girls who come to Kingdom Kids, the elementary after school program that my husband directs.  It was such a delight working with girls who had never sewn anything in their lives, a few of whom had never really had any exposure to someone sewing with a machine or maybe even much by hand.  They were effusive in their excitement, especially over their finished pillows.  They learned several skills:  how to make knots in thread, thread a needle, sew buttons, work a sewing machine to make straight seam, how to construct and stuff a pillow and use a whipstitch to close the opening.  I sent them home with a little sewing kit that I had put together - scissors, needle, threads, a needle keeper, pins, and an extra length of fabric.  They left already planning  aloud what they were going to do with those supplies once they got home.  It was a true delight and as all Makers know, a joy to draw another soul into the happiness of Making. 

I have just finished 100 Cupboards by N.D Wilson and am waiting for the second book to arrive at the library for me to pick up.  It was excellent and so creepy that I couldn't read it when we were camping or right before bed!  

I am now reading Sabina Wurmbrand's book The Pastor's Wife, her autobiography of being arrested and taken from her 10 year old son and sent to a labor camp during Communist rule in Romania -for at least 15 years I think (I haven't finished it yet)!   She was arrested because she was wife to a prominent and faithful Christian Jew who pastored a church in Romania.  He also spent years in prison and was tortured for his faith- he wrote a book called Tortured for Christ which Jesse ready years ago.  Not exactly an easy book to read (either one) and yet really encouraging, challenging, and convicting  as a call toward contentment in whatever circumstances I am in, not just because "it could be worse" but also because ultimately it will all be better than we can dream for those of us who trust Christ and his atonement.  Later in life they co-founded the organization Voice of the Martyrs, which you may have heard of. 

Also reading:
**Raymie Nightingale by Kate DiCamillo
**The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas which I am listening to on the CraftLit podcast
**Several Hank the Cowdog audiobooks by John R. Erickson with the girls in the car- a treasured time for us that makes all the driving time enjoyable!  If you have kids and haven't listened to the author reading these books himself, you really need to see if you can find some of them at your local library! 

I am joining Yarn Along fun over at Ginny's blog.  You can too if you have an instagram account or blog!

God's love never fails

There's this song we sing at church:  "Your Love Never Fails."  The chorus goes like this:

"Your love never fails

It never gives up

Never runs out on me

Your love never fails

It never gives up,

Never runs out on me

Your love never fails

It never gives up

Never runs out on me"

My daughters and all the other children at church love this song, with its simple but powerful chorus.  It is often a bedtime lullaby in our home although it's not a quiet soothing song and all three end up belting out the words along with me.

Tears always trickle down my cheeks at church when we sing it.  I can't help it.

Almost every member of our congregation comes on a bus or van that we send out every week into the community.  Most of our congregation is under age 12 and come without an adult.  Many don't have an adult at the home that are actually caring for them, which makes them functional orphans.  When I am teaching the preschool class we sit together in the front row of the church service as a group, like a little family.  Behind us are the rows of older children sitting in their groups.  When we reach the chorus, suddenly the voices of all the children behind and around me go up with nearly a shout and I tremble to hear the voices of children who face such suffering in their daily lives cry out,

"Your love never fails, it never gives up, never runs out on me!" The fervor and joy evident in singing of His love reminds me that it never fails me and reminds me that it will never fail the children whose voices I love to hear.  "Why should I gain from His reward?  I cannot give an answer.  But this I know with all my heart: His wounds have paid my ransom."

 

Easter Sunday with part of the preschool class

Neena, Emily, and I take turns teaching preschool at Hope Fellowship

I can never express how much I love teaching preschool at Hope Fellowship in White Swan.  I love getting to spend time with the littlest crowd who comes.  It seems such a small thing, but is one of the few specific ways I am able to serve outside of the bounds of my own home right now and it brings me such joy to minister to (and truthfully to be ministered to by) the giant souls who fill these little bodies week after week.   Children who, when they first appear at our church, are reticent and untrusting, blossom like a flower in the love of God that I have to believe reaches out through the hands, arms, smiles, and tears of His people.  Some of these babes blossom fast and bright and others slowly and delicately.  Some seem to close up again when the night falls but carefully they unfold and look up into someone's loving eyes and even sometimes a smile crosses their lips before they can check it.   It is a safe place and I don't think an exaggeration to say often the only safe place for the children and youth of our community.  God's love never fails. 

Happy Easter from my heart to yours.  I hope it was filled with the things and people God loves.  I hope it was filled with the truth that God's love will never fail you either. 

Yarn Along, November!

Not much new here, just several added inches on my Radiance shawl as well as several inches on my first Vanilla Latte sock.  I am really undecided about the length I like my socks, so I decided to make them just slightly longer than ankle socks.  I still really like the sunny yellow of the Dandelion colorway and think it is a fun shade to get to knit with.

I'm still listening to The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins - down to the last few chapters, and reading North! or Be Eaten by Andrew Peterson.  But mostly I am working hard on accumulating SLP continuing ed credits each night online so I can keep up my membership in the national organization.  I am learning and re-learning all kinds of interesting things about literacy development, fetal alcohol syndrome, and other speechy kinds of topics.  It touches the part of me that really misses working with a team daily with families and children with special needs and I find myself even remembering things about grad school that have been pushed to the recesses of my mind in this process.  I love being a mom and my precious children have plenty of their own immediate and unique needs and I always planned to be at home with them once they came.  It just makes me nostalgic for the good and exciting aspects of that career and especially the incredible workplace I left.  The call on my life here is just as exciting to me, and part of the reason I am continuing to push myself to stay current is so that, if or when the Lord opens doors for me to use the knowledge I believe He has planted in me, I will be ready, even if that is several years from now.  I really enjoy working with some of the children in our after-school program once or twice a week, and am doing some remedial reading instruction for a few children who should be reading but really aren't at all and I get this little taste of that joy of helping children meet goals and be enthralled by the feeling of success they experience, sometimes for the first time in the area of reading skills, and oh!  I so enjoyed reading Where the Wild Things Are to two boys yesterday who hung on every word and every picture.  It made my heart sing to see the joy lit in their eyes as they connected with Max, the king of all wild things and considered the magic of facing fears with an unflinching stare.

Time Flies

We pulled off the old sheets and pulled the new onto that top bunk, he and I.  He spread the comforter over the top.  Then he picked up that blankie, the one worn and graying with the not-so-soft-anymore fuzz and we smiled at each other, each immediately picturing her desperate attempts to make herself small enough to still fit under this beloved square of fabric, and the tears began to course down my cheeks.  He looked at me, perplexed yet already knowing what his crazy little wife was thinking, and I choked out, "She's getting big too fast," but not before he had wrapped his arms around me in a hug.

Then we glanced up at the top bunk where our littlest had clambered up the ladder and sat grinning wild at eye-level with me.  We burst into laughter and then more tears trickled down as I realized that this one is growing too fast too, but we both laughed at my tears too and then he reached through to tickle that little Squirmy Bug, as her sister so tenderly calls her.  And my life is over for awhile now, as I find ways to keep her from climbing the five foot ladder and getting stuck up on top. 

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I worked double hard yesterday in order to observe Sabbath today and I was able to keep going because I kept picturing "just sitting" for an hour while the girls all rested.  Of course, there was still the flurry of work to get out the door this morning that is unavoidable, but because I had pushed harder last night to make breakfast ahead and start tonight's dinner prep and do extra laundry, I knew I would feel more freedom to sit and knit or read awhile this afternoon.  That has been a good thing and something I haven't done often enough lately.  I am so glad I did.  By the way, this Thai Crunch Salad is what's for dinner and I have no doubt it will be delicious, since all of Mel's recipes are.  In related news, I made her  Curried Cauliflower "Popcorn" last night and when Jesse tasted it, surprised that he liked it (since neither of us like cauliflower), I looked at his questioning eyes and said "Yep, Mel's" recipe, so of course it was good.  I'll be buying cauliflower again and making it again soon. 

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One of my favorite memories from the past month is of Lyddie and her friend Harmony at church playing on the new seesaw.  I haven't had a camera at hand to catch the moment, but I'm not sure it would capture the unabashed joy both little girls show when the look across and see the other's big smile and they kick one another back up to the sky.  "Ouch!" they each say in turn as they bump their little bottoms up and down on the hard seat below and then peals of laughter pour out and fill the playground with the sounds that  should be heard at a playground.  All the adults pause and look to see the source of this happiness, and their happiness causes more happiness all around.  Just as it should be.  "Let the little ones come to me."

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I somehow stumbled back across this old blog post from three years ago.  Sleeping babies are so lovely, aren't they?  Millie is almost exactly Rosie's current age in those photos and I continue my wondering where the time flown to.  She still sleeps like that often, on her tummy with her arms all sprawled out and her fingers entwined in the satin ribbon on that same baby doll named Susie. 

Unripe Raspberries

Those raspberries up there... see all the orange ones with stems included?  They are my reminder for today to savor the imperfect. 

Yesterday I brought home a little boy from church.  He asks most Sundays if he can come home with us for the day.  He loves Legos and I love him.  So we swung by his family's house and asked if he could come play for awhile in the afternoon and they agreed. 

A little later, Jesse called and asked if I wanted another kid for the day.  I chuckled at first, thinking he was making a joke but he wasn't; he had with him a little girl whose house was empty when Jesse's bus swung by to drop her off after church.  It is unnecessary to explain all the details, but at the end of it all, a little girl came to stay until we reached a family member.  

Sometimes you just move when the Spirit says move. 

She stayed close by my side all day and into the evening.  No one was home there in the evening when Jesse stopped by, and I cuddled her to sleep.  She stayed close by my side all morning after waking up, but when she saw Lyddie and Millie with bowls out in the raspberry patch, her face lit up and she immediately asked for a bowl and we went out to help.  Her sweet fingers joined the other girls' in plucking tender berries from the brambles, and in her eagerness, orange berries and stems were tugged off and planted in the bowl with such joy.  I just smiled and handed her a ripe one to munch on while she continued to help pick.

I took her back to her mom earlier this morning and she laid her head on my shoulder as I carried her up the walkway.  The door swung open and little girl wrapped her arms around mom's neck, standing there in the doorway, and proudly grinned to catch a glimpse of the little bowl of raspberries she was bringing back with her.  

It is complicated to write about some of the stories of my life here, and I find myself backing away on this blog to the simple beauties I see around me because at least those ones I can process, at least those ones have straightforward emotions attached.  There is nothing wrong with that in one sense, but I keep feeling prickles of conviction to share just a little deeper, to venture just a little further into what makes up  my life and walk with the Lord.  This paradox of beauty in imperfections, of Holy God in the broken places- these stories are important to share for those who will listen because they are the a big part of my life and God's work in it, even if they are messy.  I approach them with a light touch and some trepidation because I feel I tread holy ground to open these doors of glimpses into my life and the lives of the people we live and work with in this beautiful place called The Rez.  

Tidbits

 Lyddie took all of these pictures a couple weeks ago and I thought it would be fun to share them.  I think they're quite good!  The one of the red clover strikes me as really interesting, and I love them all since they allow me to see the world through her eyes.  The one she took of Alma is incredible.

Some other random tidbits...
Sickness in our house; Lyddie has had a fever today and Jesse is down for the count with a stomach virus.  I woke up with a headache that wouldn't disappear which made it difficult to accomplish anything as quickly as I usually do.  I am hoping tomorrow Jesse will be on the mend and that Lyddie would feel better too.

Please pray for little Alma, for her mom, for their family, and for our family!  We love them both so much and long to see them both healthy and established in the love of Christ. Everything we do in our relationships with them both is to that end and I covet your prayers that God would do mighty things in their family.  The power of prayer is a beautiful thing to witness and something we here on the Rez do get to see since it is so vital to our life and ministry here.  The growth of His kingdom here can be specifically attributed to the faithful prayers and giving of God's children all over the country, and, in my opinion, the specific prayers for the different children, youth, and adults who need to know God's saving love and power, or who do know Him but are still faced with undeniably difficult situations every single day.  So, if you are already one of the prayer warriors for Hope Fellowship and Sacred Road (and it is true that you are fighting a battle with us even from afar), thank you and don't stop!  We are so thankful for you.

Weekend Glimpses: Mool Mool and Resurrection

Tomorrow is Easter.  I can never decide which is my favorite holiday between Christmas and Easter, but I love Easter, so it might win.  I wish I had several really meaningful or fun traditions related to Easter but the past two years (last year I was due any day with baby number three and this year we increased our household to four children) have been so busy at this specific time of year that instead of berating myself over a few of the things I wished we did this year, I need to celebrate the things that we will do or have done. 

So the celebration.  This weekend our brother Chris received an Indian name: Mool Mool.  I have heard several translations of the word but it usually relates to a bubbling spring.  What a fitting name for a man whom God's love bubbles out of and spills onto everyone around him!  We were so honored to attend the ceremony and it was a special celebration at the longhouse in White Swan. One of the gifts Jesse received was this gorgeous blanket pictured above.  The picture doesn't show the true depth of color but it was so cozy on my rocking chair tonight, I couldn't resist.  For the meal before the ceremony, we were asked to provide 5 dozen dyed eggs, and it didn't take much (read:any) arm twisting for the girls to help me!  They were more "help" than help, if you know what I mean, but it was so fun and the colors were so beautiful with the dyes we used and we made sweet memories together. 

Tomorrow we celebrate our risen Lord.  He has conquered death, which holds no fear for us any longer, and His life is the light of men.  The longer I live, and especially the longer I live here in grateful (and honestly, sometimes not so grateful) service to my King, the more joy and meaning His death and resurrection hold for me.  We watched "The Prince of Egypt" with the girls last night, one of my favorite animated movies, and the scene with the burning bush had me in tears because it reminded me all over again of God's firm command to do all He wills but paired with such tender encouragement and promises of His own presence and love. Moses' reaction of joy and trembling and wonder is .... well, it reminds me of how I feel when He makes His presence known tangibly to me and encouraged me, especially on the heavy day of Good Friday.

He is risen... He is risen indeed.  Hallelujah!