Counting by Subtraction

We count our blessings by addition. That's how it's done.

But I wonder, can we also count our blessings by subtraction? 

Can we look at the things that have been taken from us, and count ourselves blessed? Can we see the grace of God by what he gives AND by what he takes away?

Often when we pass through the valleys of life well-meaning people will tell us to think of those who have it worse. In the beloved movie White Christmas, Bing sings, "When my bankroll is getting small, I think of those who have none at all, and I fall asleep counting my blessings." 

Is this how we are meant to traverse the trials of life? There are two major problems with this approach! First, it reveals a tremendous lack of compassion for those whose struggles are greater than my own. The fact that I have it better than another person is no reason to rejoice! That thought should double my grief, not ease it. Second, this approach fails for the one is at the bottom of the pile. Finally someone has it worse than everyone else. Where is their consolation? I don't think that God ever advocates the comparison technique. It's great to have perspective so that we don't become completely overwhelmed by a hangnail, for example. But we can't grade God's grace on a curve. His grace and love are always 100% for every living being. 

If I start there-- if I begin with the belief that come what may, God is always acting on my behalf with amazing grace and unending love, then I look at my trials through different lenses. In fact, I think we need such lenses--corrective lenses--to see our life and our circumstances more clearly. 

So while 2014 has been a beautiful and blessed year in so many ways, we have also had the privilege of walking a difficult path, where regret threatened to overwhelm us. But the mighty hand of God proved greater and stronger than all our shame.

Many of you know that back when we lived in the States, our house flooded severely. We lost everything on the ground floor of our home and it took more than six months to rebuild and refurnish. Because our house was situated in a 100-year flood plain, and because the house hadn't flooded in 80 years, we figured that we had suffered our one flood for our lifetime. We put great care into every detail of the rebuilding, believing that this would be the home where we would spend the rest of our lives. And then God called us to France. So we rented out our home, believing that keeping it would allow us to continue paying off a mortgage so that when we finally retired we would have a paid-for house. 

But the house flooded again in 2012. By this time we were in France. Renters were left homeless and we were left without renters for another 4 months of renovations, which we managed to negotiate from France because we had enormous help from dear friends in Spokane. 

Once again restored, the house was happily occupied by a young widow and her four children. She loved the house! And we were thrilled to have such a great renter. The only problem was that house needed a new roof. We had saved some towards a new roof, but we were far from having the full sum. Then David's beloved Granny died and left us an inheritance. While it wasn't millions, it was probably the most money we had ever had at our disposal in one lump sum. We thanked God for his provision, and we spent every penny of it on a new roof for our house. That was in October of 2013.

Then, in 2014, the house flooded again. Severely. Twice.

 That made four floods in eight years. Clearly, the "100-year flood plain" designation was no longer accurate. We looked at having the house raised and numerous other options, but in the end, we couldn't find anything that would work.

So we found ourselves with the grave realization that we could not continue to rent out a house that flooded every other year. We could not sell a house that flooded every other year. Nor could we afford the mortgage on a house that flooded every other year when God had called us to be missionaries in France.

We didn't regret buying the house, because there wasn't a single day that I lived in that house that I did not sense God's hand of grace on our lives there. We had many, many happy days in Spangle. But we did regret the fact that we were helpless to repay a loan on a house that was no longer habitable. And we did regret that fact that we had just put a beautiful new roof on an uninhabitable house. And we scratched our heads and wondered how that inheritance--which had seemed like such a blessing at the time, had slipped through our hands into oblivion. 

We did our best to keep up on the mortgage while we explored options, but in the end, the only option that made sense was what the bank called a "Deed in Lieu of Foreclosure." The bank got the house and all of the insurance money for the last two floods, and we walked away without any further mortgage obligations. We couldn't even take the new roof with us. The fig trees failed to blossom....

Yet, I will praise him. 

There is no amazing twist to the end of this story. Sometimes God works a miracle and turns a lousy situation into something great. But sometimes lousy is the end of the story. The story of our house, our retirement plan, our new 30-year roof, ends in loss. 

Yet, I will praise him.

Because his love for me is not revealed through my circumstances. His love for me is revealed despite my circumstances. His care for me is sure. He knows the plan in full, I only see parts. My house is gone. But my feet are sure. Like the feet of a deer. He makes me able to walk on the rocky cliffs.

In fact, I think I finally understand what Paul meant when he wrote, "Whatever were gains to me, I now consider loss for the sake of Christ." 

The cost of true discipleship is not cheap. Following Jesus costs me everything. I know this. But do I hold my blessings in an open hand? Am I in love with the blessings or the bless-er? And if all the blessings were suddenly gone, would I still praise him? His love for me is unconditional...but is my love for him unconditional? 

Yet, I will praise him.

I will praise him because he saved me. He fills me with joy and he grants me his peace. His love is inexhaustible and his grace is greater than all my sin. He makes my feet like the feet of a deer, which means that wherever he leads, I will follow. But if I want to go to the heights with the Lord, I need sure feet and empty hands. And so when the Lord takes something dear from my hands, I can be sure he is taking me to the heights. And I can praise him.

Can you count your blessings by subtraction? When he takes something from your hands can you count the loss among your blessings? What have you lost this year? Yet, will you praise him?

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Perplexed

Perplexed, but not in despair.

This is how I feel about our third flood in eight years. Perplexed, but not in despair.

Its a hassle, a financial hardship, to be sure. The ground floor of our home has to be reconstructed while we are living halfway around the world! Our renters are displaced and there is nothing we can do to help them. I am not pleased with this situation, I do not like it a bit. I can't begin to understand what God plans to do in and through this mess. I am most certainly perplexed.

But not in despair.

It's not that I have some Pollyanna-ish, pie-in-the-sky, grin-and-bear-it faith. It's not just a matter of perspective (and believe me, I know there are much worse things than a flood!). It's not even due to the fact that I know my troubles are "light and momentary" in the grand scheme of things. No, I am not in despair because I know my Dad.

I have a Father that makes sure sparrows are fed, and then reminds me that he loves me more than he loves the birds. Because he loves me, I know that he will do the most loving thing. His wisdom is unsearchable, his actions can be inscrutable, but his character is unchanging. He is Faithful and True. His promises are sure.

Fear not, for I have redeemed you;
    I have called you by name, you are mine.
When you pass through the waters, I will be with you.

Fear not--a command.

     For I have redeemed you--it's already done!

          I have called you by name--it's personal.

               You are mine--it's relational.

                    When you pass through the waters--WHEN not IF.

                         I will be with you--he always shows up.

So I weep, and I pray, and I shake my head, and I say, "Dad, I just don't get it!"

And he gathers my tears in a bottle, smiles and says, "Trust me. I've got this." And then he shows up. 

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Weather Forecast

According to the Spangle mailman, the Inland Northwest is going to have a cold but dry winter. He knows this because his wife told him. She knows this because the caterpillars were a different color this year. And now that I know this, I could hardly keep it to myself. The Spangle post office is always the hub for hot news. Remember, you heard it here first.

We're still praying for snow.

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State of the Closet Address

Last weekend I had the sublime pleasure of shopping with my mom. My mom is a champion shopper. If shopping were a sport, she would be an Olympic Gold Medalist. She would score the highest possible points for both Style and Technique--she has amazing fashion sense AND a great nose for sales.
She is the perfect shopping partner for me, because I need a lot of help. I like to shop, but since I spend most of my time with boys, I don't have much opportunity. I have become the type of person who goes months--usually 10-14 months--without buying a single item of clothing. Then, about once a year, I do a major wardrobe overhaul. I find that I am a better and more satisfied shopper when I can buy whole outfits, as opposed to picking up individual items one at a time throughout the year. Since this has become my pattern, David and I plan for my annual shopping spree in our budget. We have discovered that even though I spend a nice chunk of change on clothes once a year, overall my clothing budget is quite modest.

According to Wikipediea, "The average American woman has an annual clothing budget of $1,729." I don't spend a QUARTER of that. Dave Ramsey (my hero!) believes it is reasonable to budget 2-7% of a family's income for clothing (or 1-1.5% per person for a family of four). I easily spend less than 1% of our annual income on clothing, but it might seem like a lot because I do it all at once!

That being said, my total Scores from the 2009 Mall Marathon were:

Tops: 4

Jackets: 2

Pants: 1 (I still need 2 more)

Shoes: 1 pair

Socks: 3 pair

Total: 11 pieces for $325.95 (74.05 remains in my budget)

Each year, after I purchase new duds for my closet, I get rid of bunches of clothes. I use several criteria to determine what to keep and what to give away.

First, I only keep clothes in my closet that fit my body. Today. There are no "fat" jeans in my closet. Neither are there "skinny" jeans. There are simply jeans that fit. And the same with every other piece of clothing. Clothes that are too big just give me permission to put on weight. Clothes that are too small give me cause to obsess about weight loss. Clothes that fit are the only friendly clothes in a closet.

Second, I only keep clothes in my closet that I wear. I do not keep clothes that I "might" wear someday. I do not keep clothes that I "hope" to wear. Research shows that most people only wear 41% of the clothes that they have in their closet. I don't want to have to fish through a closet where 59% of the clothes in there are just gathering dust. I do have seasonal items that only get worn a few months out of the year, but I try to eliminate everything that is NOT getting worn within it's appropriate season.

Finally, I only keep clothes that are in style. I may love my Twin Sets but they haven't been the height of fashion since 1999. Yes, I know every trend comes back eventually, but it takes a good 20 years, and I am definitely going to want a fresh start by then. And if I am not sure whether something is in or out, I ask a good friend--one with a sense of fashion integrity that is too strong to lead me astray. After all, friends don't let friends dress dowdily.

I will send the out-of-fashion clothes to Goodwill, where they can become pieces of halloween costumes! The stuff that is cute, but either no longer fits or no longer gets worn by me is going to be given to my nieces, who can take what they like, and then give the rest away.

Total Score for Fall 2009 Closet Clean-out:

Tops: 3

Jackets: 2

Pants: 10

Shoes: 3 pair

Socks: 4 pair

Total: 22 pieces.

Here is my happy closet. There is nothing in here that I would not want to wear in its proper season. Dresses on the left, then skirts, pants, tops, and jackets. This concludes my "State of the Closet Address." Today I have focused on WHAT I do to maintain my wardrobe. Tune in later this week, when I will blog about WHY I delight in keeping my STUFF to a minimum.

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By the Numbers

2

The number of light bulbs that were changed in my house this week.

39

The number of Bible verses I have memorized so far this year.

4

The number of books I am reading right now.

6

The number of books I currently have checked out from the library.

70

The percent of monthly support that is pledged for Four For France!

100

The percent of monthly support that we need to have pledged in order to leave for France.

2043

The number of minutes we used on our cell phones last month.

435

The number of minutes that David spent on the phone with the Washington State Unemployment office.

0

The total amount of money David has received from Unemployment.

0

What we have lacked because of not receiving money from Unemployment.

180

The degrees Fahrenheit at which I enjoy my coffee.

3

The number of grants I need to write this weekend.

46

The number of items on my Costco list.

2

The number of rubber ducks that Chandler has suctioned to his cheeks at the moment.

5

The number of jalapeno slices that make Bob very angry. If you do not understand this one, trust me, you do not want to know.

132

My current weight, and 3 pounds less than it says on my driver's license (happy dance).

1200

The number of calories I had to eat every day for 8 weeks to reach that weight.

90

The number of individuals, families, and churches that support Four For France, and for whom we pray regularly.

17

The number of years that I have had the joy of being married to the man of my dreams.

365

The number of days this year that I want to live for Jesus.

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Poo Poo Brain Rock

Back in 2003, David and I had been to Spangle with a real estate agent twice to look at our house before we brought the boys out to give their opinions. I felt like I had completely assessed the property and taken note of every detail. I was wrong. When we arrived at the house, the first thing the boys did when they jumped out of the car was climb up onto a huge boulder that is located in the front yard. Until that moment I hadn’t noticed the giant rock, large enough for several children to stand on simultaneously. The tulips I noticed. The brown paint color I had seen. The rock—the first thing to capture the attention of my children—had been entirely overlooked by me.

From the day we moved in, this giant rock became the center of play. It was command central, a place for captives, the top of the mountain, or just a place to sit and make plans for the next adventure. In the early days of living here, in the midst of some series of games, the rock was given the name Poo Poo Brain Rock. Wouldn’t you know this was the name that stuck? In their defense, the boys were six and seven years old at the time, and now at the ripe old ages of eleven and twelve they deny ever giving the rock such a silly name. But it will live forever in my mind under that name, a name which inspires both glee and disdain. Glee: because I love the carefree whimsy that it represents. Disdain: because, well, that one is not hard to figure out.

But the thing that boggles my mind most about Poo Poo Brain Rock is that despite its enormity, despite the grandeur of its presence, I failed to notice it until my children were standing directly on top of it. Each day I look out my front window at that rock, and wonder how I could have missed it. It makes me wonder what else I’m missing. What phase of life will suddenly surprise me when I see myself or my children standing on top of it? What is looming in my life, large and significant, but unnoticed by me? Or perhaps even more importantly, on what am I standing right now?

My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus’ blood and righteousness
I dare not trust the sweetest frame but wholly lean on Jesus’ name.
On Christ the solid rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand.
All other ground is sinking sand.

I will never forget how my boys ran to that rock in the front yard as if it were a magnet. They couldn’t have stopped themselves from clamoring up on top of it. Touching it wasn’t enough. Being near it wouldn’t do. They had to climb it, and not just sit, but stand on it. Even today, though they jump off it, sword fight around it, and hide behind it, Poo Poo Brain Rock remains a sort of Home Base for every thing they do.

Like Poo Poo Brain rock is the central feature of my yard, Christ the solid rock is the central feature of my life. I, too, find that just being close to Him is not enough; I need to be in constant contact with Him. I am drawn to Him like a magnet. When I am standing on the Rock, I know that I am at Home Base. Safe. For the Psalmist the Rock was a place of comfort. For Moses the Rock was a source of life sustaining water. For many the Rock was a stumbling block. The rock in my yard has a meaningless name riddled with absurdity, but the Rock of my life is called Wonderful! Counselor! Mighty God! Everlasting Father! Prince of Peace!

He alone is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will never be shaken. Psalm 62:2

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Regarding the Garden

I am very much a novice gardener; however, I learn new things each year, and my crops have become progressively more plentiful and predictable. The first year David and I attempted a garden, we tilled up the ground in a part of the yard that did not get enough sun. Cold crops, like peas, radishes, and lettuce did okay, but I was hard pressed to get a full grown zucchini, and the corn and green beans completely failed. The next year we moved the garden. By “we” I mean David and my Dad. By “moved the garden” I mean, they cut out eight hundred square feet of sod from the new garden plot and used that sod to fill in the old garden plot. It was a labor of love, for it was I who did not want to have two large tilled up areas in the yard. The new garden was larger and in a much sunnier place. That year we had a bumper corn crop, a steady stream of green beans, and our first experience with the well-known zucchini surplus phenomenon. But the tomatoes were few, and the cucumbers—nonexistent.

I was advised by my sage neighbors that my problem with the tomatoes was that I did not prune the suckers. They explained that there are many branches on a tomato plant that are lush and leafy, but have neither the means nor intention of ever producing any fruit. These unproductive branches steal nutrients and energy from the productive branches of the plant and can reduce overall tomato production. They are called suckers because they suck up food and water without giving anything in return. That was why my very large and healthy-looking tomato plants yielded only a handful of edible tomatoes. The next year I vigilantly pruned my tomato plants, and while they tended to look more haggard and lank overall, their branches were absolutely heavy with tomatoes. Success!

But still plaguing me is the challenge of the cucumber. Even in the sunnier garden location, when I plant cucumbers they never grow. The seeds go in the ground at the right depth and spacing, but nothing ever spouts. I have even planted them a second time in the same season when it seemed the first attempt failed, and still, no sign of germination. Last year I thought I would beat the system and I bought cucumber plants from the Future Farmers of America. When I brought them home, both plants were strong and already sporting blossoms. I carefully transplanted them into my sunny, fertile garden, and watered them well. I had high hopes for those cucumbers. They were completely dead within a week. And no one can tell me why.

I am utterly perplexed by my inability to grow a cucumber. I have asked neighbors where I am going wrong, but they don’t seem to know. I have asked experts in garden shops to no avail. I have even sought out the teacher of the Future Farmers of America, and while he could not solve my problem, he assured me that his wife’s cucumbers were prone to the same fate as mine. At least I’m not alone. I have looked up answers on the Internet, but nothing I find seems to help. It appears that cucumbers are my gardening weakness.

I’ve heard that Amish quilters, famous for their brilliant craftsmanship, put an intentional flaw in every quilt as a reminder that only God is perfect. And it is not God who needs the reminding—it is us, the flawed. While I am fairly certain that I will never have success with cucumbers, maybe I should continue to plant them as an intentional flaw in the patchwork quilt of my garden. I can sometimes have visions of grandeur that belie the reality of my fallen condition. Next time I think too highly of myself, I can just take a walk through the garden and ponder the fact that I no matter how great my accomplishments, I cannot make a cucumber grow. And I will find peace in this simple reminder, for there is great assurance in knowing that God is God, and I am not. He never fails, His perfection is predictable, His excellence can be expected, He is flawless forever, and yet, He cares for me!

But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me.

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Birdhouses

Before I moved to the country I thought that birdhouses were only decorative accessories. You know, like the cute little miniatures you find in gift stores that aren’t even really hollow? But the birdhouses my boys made and brought home one day actually looked like they were meant to be nailed to a tree. They were made from very rough dry boards that looked weathered and worn and once hung seemed to become one with the bark. Still, I wondered, do birds ever really use such houses? The answer is yes! We often sit at the dinner table and watch birds go in and out. It is great entertainment, and we sometimes take turns trying to narrate the scene or imagine what the birds might be thinking or saying:

“Here’s a nice one. No bathroom though, that could be a problem. Still, it is close to work…”

“Look dear, this one has a view of the garden! And can you believe all those worms? It does need a coat of paint, maybe that’s why it’s so cheep!”

“What do you mean this is your house? I don’t see your name on it! Besides, we’ve been summering here for ages!”

I guess before moving to Spangle I didn't paid much attention to birds, I just thought they all lived in nests. But the birds really seem to enjoy the birdhouses on our trees. They snuggle in them through thunderstorms, perch on top of them and look deep in thought, and even seem to play games around them. Birds somehow know that these houses are provided for their use, and readily occupy them without thought of lodging fees. Our feathered friends do not seem the least bit bothered that they did not earn the right to use the birdhouse or pay their own way. They simply accept the gift.

It reminds me of another gift that was nailed to a tree. A gift that cannot be earned, but must simply be accepted. He is a refuge from the storms of life, but, oh so much more. He offers me a home for all eternity…a mansion really. And while many go through life believing the idea of heaven to be more of a decorative accessory than an actual reality, I am convinced that heaven is not like the solid birdhouses with fake doors painted on them. Jesus, nailed to a tree, opened the door to heaven for me.

He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness; by his wounds you have been healed. I Peter 2:24

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Il neige

A dear friend gave us a French-Phrase-a-Day calendar for Christmas, and this is one of the very first phrases we learned. I can't tell you how disappointed we are to be using that phrase today--JUNE 10--because it means "it's snowing" and that is exactly what it is doing right now at my house. It seems I was bit premature in declaring an end to our long cold winter since the current temperature is all of 34 degrees. Today also happens to be the second anniversary of the Spangle flood. It was June 10, 2006, when our house was invaded with three feet of water in a brief fifteen minutes, destroying the entire ground floor of our home and displacing us for 6 months. Perhaps Spangle should declare June 10th to be"Wacky Weather Day!" It will forever live in our hearts as such.

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A Bird in Hand

Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?

The boys found this little bird hobbling around the lilacs yesterday, and it acted as though it couldn't fly. We consulted with our local Audubon Society, worried that perhaps it had a broken wing. We learned several things about birds!

1. The yellow speckled chest means that this is a baby robin.
2. The bird is a fledgling, and must have fallen from the nest, because its wings are not developed enough to fly.
3. Birds do not have a very strong sense of smell, so the mother will not reject the baby once touched by human hands.
4. The best thing to do was put him back in the nest if we could find it, because the baby bird would still need its mom to feed it for another day or two.
5. If we couldn't find the nest, we should put it under the tree where it was found because the mom will find her baby and feed him on the ground.

We were also told that the best and hardest thing to do was to walk away. We could not find the nest, and so we put the baby under the lilac, and left him. I guess I didn't worry much after that because, well, I know God promises to care even for the birds. He sure was a sweet little fellow!

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