Anything? Even the Small Call?

The word anything has been very popular lately in the circles I find myself. I believe a lot of it has to do with Jennie Allen's book Anything. I have to admit I haven't yet read the book. However, I have attended the last two IF:Gatherings and have come away with what I believe the book is nudging us to do, live a life of surrender to God and what he has for my life.

Something you have to understand about me is I like attention. I'm the youngest in my family and have some of the common youngest personality traits; I'm good at avoiding work and I like attention. If you ask my sisters, they'll back this up. Goodness, my name plate at work says my title is Superstar Diva of Calvary the Musical.

So when I have prayed and surrendered, I fully expected that I was going to get a Jennie Allen type of call on my life. I fully thought the vision or call I sensed a couple decades earlier when I was watching Lucy Swindoll at Women of Faith would come to be. As I watched Lucy on the stage I felt God was telling me that was what he had for me, but there was more life for me to live first. Of course in my early twenty-something confidence I didn't want to wait, didn't understand what I could learn that I didn't already know. I was ready to go. Bring it on I told God. Oh my goodness. It's a good thing I didn't realize then all I needed (still need) to learn.

This time my surrender didn't come quick, but it did eventually come. Being in my early forties, I'm so aware of all I don't know. Fear, insecurity and laziness kept me from surrendering in the beginning, but those things began to be put aside and I stood surrendered.

Ok God, bring it. I'm ready. It was much like standing at the bank of a river. The river of what God is doing is flowing by me. I want to jump in, but I keep getting thrown back onto shore. It's like the Lego video games when you turn on invincibility. You try to jump off a cliff, building or into a river, but your little Lego person keeps getting spit back out. What was I supposed to do?

God began to burden my heart for victims of human trafficking. For whatever reason, Duluth was on my heart. I live in the Twin Cities and it would have been much more convenient to be burdened for here, but no it was Duluth. I even discovered a great ministry there, Life House. I stopped into the office and contacted them twice about wanting to get involved. No response came. I was thrown back onto the shore.

When I heard of two children in foster care that we have a connection to, I thought this could be it. This could be what God is calling me to do. This call had a built in confirmer. If God was really leading me in this direction, he'd need to change my husband's heart. He didn't. Thrown back on shore again.

It has been agonizing. My heart is broken for the broken people in this world. I'm at a point when I'm ready to get my hands dirty, ready to get into the trenches, ready to get uncomfortable, but I keep getting thrown out of the river. Where is this big call Lord? I'm here. I'm surrendering. I want to serve, but each time I jump in the river I get thrown back out.

A few months back I had a chance to attend a live taping of the Lead Stories podcast (it's a great podcast, you should check it out). Those of us in the audience were given a chance to ask questions. I got up and gave my river analogy. Then one of the hosts said something that was so clearly for me. She talked about how sometimes there are several small rivers that flow into larger rivers. Maybe (she told me to pray about this and I did) I was trying to get into the wrong small river. Maybe there is a different place God has for me to launch.

Her words were reassuring and confirming of what I had been experiencing with God. Is my call really not the big call river? Is my call the small call river?

Does my call not include being on stage? It doesn't seem to be that right now.
Does my call not include being a writer? Well it couldn't because I only have fractions of or pieces of books written. So it doesn't seem to be that right now.

Does my call include loving and serving my neighbors? Yes

Does my call include loving and serving my family? Yes

Does my call include serving and supporting those with "big calls" on their life? Yes

Does my call include loving and serving my husband and children when they are driving me crazy? Yes

Does it include staying in my job at my church even when I don't think I can take seeing the underbelly (that every church has-come on, it's full of humans) of it anymore? Yes

This so called small call starts to not feel very small. It starts to feel monotonous, mundane. It feels like only by the grace of God will I get through this day kind of call.

But this is where I'm called. This is where I'm called to love, serve and support. It's not always an easy call and I'm not going to lie, I still secretly hope for a big call, but here I am. I've made it to a different small river, a river that feels even smaller then the other small river, but you know what? I'm still part of what God is doing. This smaller than small river is about what God us doing and not about the size of a call or about me. It's about living for the one who loves me and gave himself for me. Today that is enough.

Process Through Grief

Usually I love the On This Day app on Facebook. It's so fun to see what I posted in past years. It's been great to see posts I made about fun things my boys did when they were younger (and to get them in their baby books. That's something I could quite get done while chasing them around the house).

This week has been different.
This week has been a reminder of my mom's last week with us.

August 2, 2009
God hath not promised skies always blue, Flower-strewn pathways all our lives through; God hath not promised sun without rain, Joy without sorrow, peace without pain. BUT God hath promised strength for the day, Rest for the labor, light for the way, Grace

August 3, 2009
When peace like a river attendeth my way, when sorrows like sea billows rolls. What ever my lot, thou hast taught me to say, "It is well, It is well with my soul"...Easier said than done, but I'm trying.

August 4, 2009
Mom has taken a turn. The Hospice nurse thinks it'll be days. Thank you so much for all your prayers. They are carrying us through.


When I made these posts, I didn't know she would go so soon.
I didn't know this posts would follow.

August 6, 2009
Carole C. Schrade passed away peacefully yesterday (8/5/09) morning. She was surrounded by family...

When today's On This Day came up I thought it was interesting to see my process through grief.

August 5, 2010
Breckenridge Orchestra salute to Rodgers & Hammerstein has been a great (& tearful) way to remember my mom.

August 5, 2011
thinking about my mom. can't believe it's been two years.

August 5, 2012
Silence

August 5, 2013
Four years ago today my mom lost her battle with cancer. It is, of course, not the outcome I would have chosen. However, I'm amazed at all I've learned about my mom and myself in these four years. I've also experience relationship with the Lord in unimaginable intimate ways. So, even though I wouldn't have chosen it, I'm thankful for what I've learned from it.

August 5, 2014
All things work for good...

August 5, 2015
Six years ago today my mom lost her battle with uterine cancer.
Six years ago she received the most amazing healing of heaven.
I miss her everyday, but have found these two things to be thankful for:
1. Grieving my mom's death was hard because I had a good relationship with her. I didn't have to grieve for things left unsaid or unsettled.
2. In the process of my grief, I have come to know the Lord so intimately. In those early days of grief when the pain was raw, He showed himself in a thousand ways. He took, still takes, each step with me. I can say from deep within my soul, "the Lord is good".

It took me two years to begin to feel like myself again.
It took four year before I began to come to terms with my loss.

The latest lesson I've learned is recognizing grief when it comes and allowing myself to go through it. I haven't had another loss like my mom dying (thank God), but when friends move to the other end of the country, when co workers move on to different opportunities, even when I'm not able to make it to a party where I know all my friends will be. I allow myself to grieve.

Grief has been a companion for many years. I fought against her company, but I have come to accept she's always with me.

I can honestly say thankful for what she's taught me about myself and my God.

So I will share this on Facebook and next year when On This Day shows me this post, I will be reminded. I will be reminded of my process through grief.

I see you

Six months ago I took this picture.

Six months ago I made a commitment. I made commitment to let myself to be seen

really seen

Six months ago I made a commitment to see others. To say to them in either word or deed,

I see you.

I see you.

I gotta be honest with you. It's not been easy. I still have many days of hiding myself, making myself invisible, not letting myself be seen.

What I've noticed lately is how little I really see others around me.

During a conversation with a friend about the homeless, those begging for help. I heard myself say I heard myself reveal the darkness in my heart

Oh, I don't really see them. I don't see them.

Oh the darkness in my heart.

Today was a different kind of day.

Maybe it was grace.

Maybe it was the feeling of swimming in a familiar lake of grief,

marinating in my sadness and loss.

Today was a different kind of day.

Distracted by my self, my loss, my grief, my stress, my schedule I found myself not realizing the drive thru line had moved forward. The rumble and rev of the engine behind me jolted me back into the reality I was desperately trying to avoid, to escape. As I glanced into my rearview mirror, I saw their faces, hanging low. They looked tired, worn out. Heads hanging at the end of bent necks.

Pay for their order a familiar whisper came to me. My heart began to pound.

Pay for their order the whisper nudged. I'm learning to be obedient to the familiar whisper. The more I turn my ear to it, the more I hear it. The more I obey it, the easier it's become to recognize.

$7.18

Their order was $7.18. I rushed to the next window to claim my order and make an attempt to disappear before they realized, before they understood what's happened.

As I glanced again in the rearview mirror, I saw hands and arms reaching and waving thank you. The bright sun hid their faces, hid the heads that had hung low.

I made my way to the stoplight thinking it was done, but then I heard the rumble and rev of the engine again as they pulled along side me.

Windows down so I could hear, so I could see.

Heads that had hung low from bent necks were now held high.

At the end of extended arms were cups held high.

Smiles so bright.

So much joy.

Wet joy and thanksgiving began to pour from my eyes.

I got to be apart of this. I was seen and nudged to act.

I saw them.

I saw them.

What if you did that? What if everyday by word or deed you let someone know

I see you.

Isn't that what everyone is searching for?

To be seen.

To be seen for who they are

Not for their job, their gender or their skin

But for who they are

What if you stopped and let someone know

I see you.