The Past 7 Years. . .

The Past Seven Years. . .
It's staggering how quickly life goes by, and how different I perceive myself to be today from who I was seven years ago. Seven years ago, I would fall asleep to Tim reading Chausser to me. We'd go to work if we felt like it; go to class if we felt like it-sometimes skipping just to take 20 mile bike rides in the corn of Nebraska. Life was simple to say the least. We married in 1998 just after I returned from a three month mission to Takahagi, Japan where I had been working as a Bible teacher for a couple of summers. We lived in a slanted apartment, above three Pakistani guys who cooked stinky food. We stole our furniture from the Goodwill dumpster across the street, ate Ramen noodles every day, and frequently went without electricity due to a faulty breaker. But none of that mattered then. When we didn't have power, we climbed onto the roof to look at the stars, or we took long walks in the rain. Everyone should have years like that-where life is simple.

But then the student loan bills came; I was trying to get three BA's in four years (which I did by carrying an insane load); Tim's job as a group home counselor was getting beyond tolerable, and we were forced out of the Norman Rockwell painting some call, "Nebraska," and into the real world via the US Army.

Of course, I had many reservations about Tim joining the Army. I mean, I still drink from a coffee mug that reads, "I'm a pacifist-like Jesus." But Tim said, "They'll pay off all of the student loans (which they did), and then I'm out (which he's not)." They-whoever "they" are-say to never talk about religion and politics on a first date. Well, some rules never expire. As it should be in marriage, we've both come inward from our extreme beliefs some to meet closer in the middle. And where we still disagree, we disagree peaceably (which means silently). It's true-best friends have much more exciting times when they aren't clones of each other.

There are many advantages to the military: no student loans, free medical, free masters degree programs, job security, housing, etc. . .however, I found myself suddenly without direction. We previosuly planned on moving to Japan long-term to work as missionaries. And now? Surely my life plan was not to be a high school English teacher. Fulfilling for some, I grew weary of it fast. I fell into quite a slump, and ironically enough, it was Nietzche who pulled me out of it with his quote, "His disciples will have to look more saved if I am to believe in this Savior." I needed to snap out of it, and find the joy HE gave me again.

I realized that just because Tim joined the Army didn't mean that I couldn't do missions anymore. Afterall, the Army takes him away for 6-12 months of nearly every year. So, when Tim took off training, I joined a medical mission team in Surinam, S. America. When Tim flew off to Korea, I taught Bible and worked with refugees in Burma, Cambodia and Thailand. When Tim was sent to Afghanistan, I returned to Burma and Cambodia. It has turned out to be a very fulfilling seven years for both of us.
































Tim and I spent a much needed vacation in France for our five year anniversay. We were together 5 weeks that year, and we lived the two weeks we spent in France to the fullest. We tresspassed into vineyards in Eparnay, drank in champagne cellars, took a rickety elevator to the top of the Eiffel Tower, kissed under every bridge along the Seine, and hiked the steps up to Sacre Coeur.

In our sixth year of marriage, Tim and I found ourselves at a very questionable outdoor cafe in Nogales, Mexico. (I couldn't reveal the details of how we ended up there, even I wanted to. . .). Eventually, the conversation turned to orphans we had seen and worked with around the world. It quickly became clear that we both desired to do something more permenant to care for God's children than handing out clothes and food a few months a year. So, we decided to pursue adoption. How we chose a country, an agency, age, medical needs, the number of orphans, etc...is information for another post. Though I can say that we both felt like we needed to live the next year to its fullest becuase life after children would slow us both down, or at least keep me in America more than I had been used to in a long time. And honestly, I was jealous of Tim on occasion. I would think about how he could still run off to far away places and help the oppressed, make new friends of other faiths, learn new languages. I wouldn't be able to. I remembered a poem by Amy Carmichael-a missionary to India in the 1800's. She spent her entire life saving little girls from Hindu temple postitution, sometimes staying awake with thirty babies night after night all alone becuase no one else would move to India and help her. In frustration, she wrote, "Onward Christian soldiers, sitting on the mats; nice and warm and cozy, like little pussycats; Onward Christian soldiers, Oh how brave are we; don't we do our fighting very comfortably?" Naive, I thought that staying home to raise children would turn my faith into something far too comfortable, which would then lead to apathy, stagnation, and spiritual death. I thought, "If I'm not here-in the jungle, in the camps, then what good am I? How will I grow? How can I possibly become more like Christ in the suburbs?" Oh how wrong I was! Mothers are some of God's most well used servants, and plowing the way for Christ to shine fully through the children He has entrusted us with is a humbling journey. The experience of parenting has grown Tim and I both spiritually, and though we are blissfully happy, we are often far from comfortable. Which is how it should be.