(Editor’s note: We are in Virginia now, and I have every intention of writing ALL THE THINGS and then I fall into bed at night exhausted and overwhelmed with nothing left. I am slooowly catching up in this space, but with Baby Girl due in 2 weeks, have grace for the distinct lack of posting! Also, I realize I am late to the party on responding to this, but it truly is my heart. 

May 22, our second day in the hotel and the second day of what would turn out to be a very long and physically taxing move.

I was braced up on the wall staring at the neatly rolled stack of pristine white towels placed there by the hotel maid and wondering why my biggest problem at the moment was worrying about having too much … too much things, too much food, too much television.

I WAS STRESSED BECAUSE WE HAVE MORE THAN ENOUGH.

A few days prior the words of Ann Voskamp on Preemptive Love and her trip to Iraq had rolled across my screen and seared my heart, still tender from my first encounter with this organization I love already.

(I’ve written about them here and here …)

The faith and resilience of these women who are living day in and day out in the Lion’s den is lighting a fire in my bones that I cannot extinguish.

And so the one thought coursing through my brain with my back against the wall was why me? Why does my day start with fluffy white towels and and hers with the fear that her nine year old daughter will be trafficked by evil men? Why do my sons play joyfully in the freedom and security that comes from life here in America and hers are left on a mountaintop under a hardscrabble pile of stones because there wasn’t enough food?

What do I do about it?

These questions, they don’t go away. I’ve been a Christ follower for three decades of my time on this rock and still I wrestle almost daily with the whys. I know the Sunday School answers, (again with the whole Presbyterians are thorough), and I cling to their veracity, but truly, friends, it doesn’t do much for the aching in my soul over the plight of my sisters.

(Those answers are for another blog post, or a conversation with your pastor, but maybe start in Romans for a complete accounting of the gospel and how it fits into this narrative)

For now, in the aftermath of the epic move to the woods, this, this is what I am learning.

The words that flickered across the white spaces in my brain when I stared past the towels have only gotten louder in the chambers of my soul-across 7 weeks of moving, countless moments of checking my budget, unpacking our house in a new home, balancing our needs and wants, and throwing away bags of trash from unpacking, even after I purged in TN.

Material blessing does not equal spiritual favor. 

My excess of physical goods and financial security are not driven by my goodness, by merit, or the notches in my spiritual belt. If that were truly the case, I would be a sorry sight. And my friends, I love this country so, but I did not earn my spot here, and my citizenship in the Kingdom of Heaven carries an eternal weight not matched by loyalty to the Stars and Stripes.

 But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved. And God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus, in order that in the coming ages he might show the incomparable riches of his grace, expressed in his kindness to us in Christ Jesus. For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— not by works, so that no one can boast. Ephesians 2:4-9

At the risk of offending, I must say this. I am NOT #blessed. I am hashtag undeserving of His mercy and grace and aching to take the outward trappings of this earthly life, to use them-not discard or disdain them-and consign them all to Kingdom work. 

And I am on my knees with all the groanings of the Holy Spirit for these women who walk through the fire and are not overcome.

So maybe here are some ways to start DOING, even as I wrestle with the hard questions I can’t answer, for you or for myself. 

1. EDUCATE YOURSELF – on the situation in Iraq, but also on the needs of your community. People are starving HERE, people are being trafficked HERE, people are subject to grave injustice HERE. In our communities. Educate yourself – listen with a posture of humility and grace to the needs of the people around you. Open your eyes. See the Other. The great Commission doesn’t begin with the ends of the earth.

2. Consider donating to Preemptive Love – $250 funds one heart surgery, but they are also banding together to meet physical needs for displaced Yazidi families, fund small businesses, and create education opportunities for Iraqi girls. In addition, PLC is expanding, reaching out for opportunities to serve in Libya as well.

3. Get creative about what you can give – time, money, space in your home, a listening ear – ask the Lord to open up unconventional avenues to serve. Ours looks like some financial opportunities, mobile soup kitchens, backpacks for hungry kids, and thank you notes. None of which I saw two years ago. And truly, you will find your eyes and heart cracked wide open in the search – it’s hard, and humbling, and oh so beautiful. 

4. Pray. Fervently, and without ceasing. Begin and end here. Even when the words fail you …

But if we hope for what we do not see, with perseverance we wait eagerly for it. In the same way the Spirit also helps our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we should, but the Spirit Himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words; and He who searches the hearts knows what the mind of the Spirit is, because He intercedes for the saints according to the will of God. Romans 8:25-27.

With all my love.

~M.

(This the end of the moving posts … we are unpacked, the laundry is mostly done, we sort of know our way around town, we’ve seen LOTS of monuments and museums thanks to my big sister and her crew, and we have started the church hunt.

I have struggled this summer with feeling sorry for myself at the prospect of so many goodbyes, and the work that comes in planting perennials. And then feeling the guilt at such selfishness in the face of so much suffering in the world around me.

Then a new friend offered me a sweet perspective on moving, balancing grace, gratitude, and awareness.

We were made for the Garden of Eden. We were made for whole relationships, for togetherness, for a Perfect Love. And goodbyes are broken, and hard. Another result of sin and death shattering what God designed to be whole. And I have permission to simultaneously grieve what is broken, while rejoicing in hope over what is to come, on earth, as it is in Heaven.

So that’s where I’m living these days – grief and gratitude. And always, hope.)