Obedience

People. It is 2016. What? And it's not like today is January 1st, its the 16th! What is happening? Also. What is wrong with my blogging skills, or lack thereof? Sheesh.

So many things have been rattling around in my head since the last post. It feels like so much has happened since OCTOBER. For real, though? I need to get with the blogging program.

We were in Arizona for six weeks for the Holidays. Being in the States was so good and so hard all wrapped into one. People were often asking if it felt good to be home. What a confusing question to answer. The thing is that Arizona no longer feels like home. It felt good to be back. It felt amazing to be with family. It was fun to eat so much delicious food. But, it was weird because it didn't feel like home.

I honestly struggled a lot while we were in the States. So many conflicting emotions, so many hard questions to answer. It made me feel frustrated with this Honduras thing that we have done.

Sometimes Honduras feels so great, like such a cool adventure that we are on. Our girls are having new experiences, learning a new language, meeting new friends, cliff jumping, zip-lining, motorcycle riding, wearing ratty clothes, collecting spiders and bugs, and having an adventure. We are having new experiences and meeting new people and seeing the world and Jesus through new eyes.

And sometimes, Honduras feels so hard. We are saying a lot of really hard goodbyes. Saying goodbye to our incredibly amazing family who we adore is hard. Saying goodbye to friends in the States is hard. Saying goodbye to friends in Honduras who have become like family who have decided to move back to the States is hard. Saying goodbye to people from short term teams who we have come to love is hard. This feeling of not belonging is hard. When we were back in the States, I found myself longing for the time before we ever started this Honduras thing because in that space I didn't feel caught between two worlds. That's how I feel. I feel caught between worlds. This Honduras world doesn't quite fit because it doesn't have the family and friends that are home to me. The US doesn't quite fit because it doesn't have all of the familiar things and places and people that Honduras does. It feels too big and too loud and too comfortable and has oh so many options.

As I struggled, I kept asking why. Why have we done this? Why are we making these sacrifices? Why are we giving up relationships? Why are we saying goodbye? Why are we giving more than we have to give? Why are we pushing ourselves? And stretching ourselves? Why me? Why, Jesus, why? What good am I doing? What is this accomplishing? Do I even make a difference? Why?

As I asked and pondered and mulled through these questions, someone said to me, "Jesus sees you and your sacrifice and He rewards obedience. He is faithful." Hmm. He is faithful. Yes. He rewards obedience. Not sure. That seems like a big statement. And one that may be widely accepted and believed in Christian circles. Maybe you agree, maybe you don't, but I found myself questioning it. Have I found this to be true in my life? Has he rewarded obedience? Does my life look like I thought it would or like I wanted it to look? If it does or doesn't, does that mean that he has or hasn't rewarded my obedience? What does rewarding obedience mean? What I would like for it to mean is that because I sacrifice and I am willing to obey, that he will make my life look like I think it should look and want it to look. If my life doesn't look that way, then I assume that he doesn't reward obedience and I get upset because he isn't doing what he is supposed to do. Hmm. I don't think I'm on the right track here. I am realizing that I have been asking myself the wrong question and focusing on the wrong thing: the reward. "Jesus, don't you know what I've sacrificed? What's in it for me?" I have gotten sidetracked and focused on the wrong thing. I should be thanking and praising him for HIS sacrifice. I should be asking, what can I do to love him more, to thank him more, to praise him more?

One reason I have avoided writing another blog post is because I seem to always be processing through hard stuff. There is joy. These days Kyler is bringing so much JOY. That girl. She's funny. She loves animals. She loves music. She loves dancing. She loves her sisters. She teaches our family how to laugh. So often, the five of us sit and watch how funny she is and just marvel at her being her. JOY. Watching my girls love each other. They fight so much, but the sweetness and the love and the laughter is there. And when it is there, it is SWEET. There is just something about the love of and relationship with a sibling. And there is more. The colors of the ocean. The song of the toucan. The howl of the monkey. The splash of the water. The tricks on the bicycle. The healing of a patient. The restoration of a relationship. Sweet moments, joy. But, so often, the joy feels hidden in the pain and the struggles of life. And so often, I feel like all I do is think and process the hard and the pain and the struggle. And that gets tiring. And so I don't write. But, the writing gives life and truth and realness to the hard. And it helps it to loose its power somehow. And it helps the truth to seem more real and more joyful. So, tonight, here's to the joy, alongside the pain. Here's to the sacrifice. Praise Jesus for his ultimate sacrifice. He is good.

Thanks for reading :)

- Katie