A Year In Mexico

I have lived in Mexico for over a year now.  People were nervous about me moving down here last year. I was a little too. I used to never want to live here.  But then, neither did my husband.  That's not exactly the point of why either one of us came.  When I came here, I realized that a lot of the fears people have about this area have little grounds. I don't say no grounds; yes, bad stuff happens. It did in Canada too. I want to clear the misconceptions and paint a small picture of what life here really is.

My home is outside Cuauhtemoc, in the province of Chihuahua, home of the highest concentration of Low-German speaking Mennonites in the world. We live among two other cultures here: the Spanish speaking Mexicans and the native American Tarahumara people. We are surrounded by both wealth and poverty. There is a lot of wealth along the business highway where we live. But a drive into town greets you with poor housing, youth on the street washing windshields at intersections, and Tarahumara women with their babies walking along the lanes of stopped traffic asking for money all day. There are some big contrasts.

But what's the same and what's different? How does life compare to my life in Canada?

Living Costs and Wages

When I talk about living costs here, I can't do so without talking about wages. The wages of most average unskilled workers are nothing to boast of. A lot of Canadians or Americans would certainly have a difficult time adjusting. It's not uncommon for people to make 35-55 pesos an hour doing manual labour. Some make more. It also depends on the type of work. There are men that go to work six days a week and bring home less than 5,000 pesos a month. ($1.00 CAD = 15.23 pesos)

A lot of living costs are comparable to what I was used to in Ontario. The cost of groceries is about the same. (Eating out here does offer more affordable options, that aren't all fast food.) Gasoline is about the same. Vehicle insurance is cheaper.  Utilities is where I'm not sure.

Housing is a challenge for many people here. Because mortgages aren't available here, and the average wages are so low, it's very difficult for a family to own a home. There are also very few places available to rent. What is common is for employers to have houses or apartments available for their employees and it becomes part of their employment terms. Such is our current situation.

Garbage and Recycling

I tell people one of the things I miss about Canada is garbage pickup and recycling. Seriously. When you can't recycle, and you have to load up all your garbage and take it to the dump (my hubby takes care of that part), you'll miss the days of dragging it out to the roadside once a week too. There is pickup in some areas, but we don't enjoy that convenience.

Roads

Roadwork in Mexico is all about job creation! Frequently we will see many men working all day to patch a small section of road. The goal is to make it last until the next week or the next rainfall, whichever comes first. Afterward people will drive all over the road, dodging ridiculous sized potholes, trying not to blow their tires. And just for fun, or to make a statement, sometimes someone will go and plant a tree in a hole. And after enough people blow their tires, or a few more weeks pass, they will go patch it again. They're looking out for themselves!

Vehicle Regulations

There are not as many regulations here surrounding vehicles as in Ontario. Sure, we save ourselves some money in some aspects, but honestly I wish there were more. I remember the days in Ontario where a lot of these things got frustrating. However, my friends from Canada wouldn't have to drive behind too many vehicles here billowing black, putrid smoke for miles on end, and they wouldn't complain about their E-tests anymore.

However, there are things that should be fairly simple that somehow aren't. After purchasing a used vehicle last year from a friend, my husband went to the appropriate office in town to change over the ownership. He succeeded after about 10 visits. With every visit, they demanded different paperwork. He had documents ripped up in front of him one day, only to have the same documents demanded by a different clerk the next. He got frustrated, to say the least.

Healthcare

Healthcare is different here too. There are both public and private options. You can register for public health insurance for a small yearly fee, which gives you access to a public hospital. However, wait times are long, service often poor, and I have not heard too many positive stories yet from the public hospital in town. My husband and I have a a private health insurance plan. Although we do have to pay a deductible for most things, the money we saved on dental work this past year was almost equal to our annual fee. When we had our miscarriage, my husband opted to taking me to a hospital specializing in women. Although our treatment wasn't covered, it was still a good choice for us. We also have to pay for regular doctor visits. But when we do have a baby, we will be able to consider more options because of our insurance policy. We do recommend others to look into extra health insurance. In our one year experience, it has been completely worth it.

A few things that are different here as well is there is a much higher C-section rate. And many C-sections are not actually necessary. That could be a long topic for discussion. What I also see as an issue is way too many pharmacies. It's almost unbelievable how many there are. And when I go to a pharmacy with a prescription, if I need five pills, but there's 20 in the box, I have to buy the whole box. No neatly labelled yellow bottles with the precise amount needed. Aside from this being very unregulated, it's not always easy on the wallet either.

Food

The style of cuisine here is quite different from Canada. There are Mexican dishes and flavours, Mennonite ones, and American. If you want a taste of America, there is Subway, KFC, and Pizza Hut not too far away. You'll have to drive further to get to a McDonald's, but luckily there are lots of other burger joints. One thing Mexico in general does not do well is salads and restaurants usually don't offer much selection in. Sometimes the ingredients don't compliment each another well, and chances are your only choice of dressing is Ranch. A side salad with a meal consists of a bed of shredded iceberg lettuce and a slice or two of tomato and cucumber.  But their desserts are a lot more affordable. I can eat a tasty slice of cheesecake for 28 pesos instead of 7 dollars.

Living here with food sensitivities is more challenging because of the lack of products available, and many of the ones that are are quite expensive. It's also an issue that there isn't a lot of knowledge about. This makes it more difficult when we receive an invitation somewhere for a meal. I can't simply say I can't eat gluten. I've learned to simplify my explanation and be appreciative when I know people have tried to accommodate me.

Government and Police

Unfortunately, there isn't a shortage of corrupt politicians and police officers in Mexico. I haven't had any personal experiences yet. But if you get pulled over for a traffic violation, the chances are pretty good you can pay off the officer and save yourself a trip into town to pay your ticket. In school in Canada, we were taught that if we were in trouble, find a police officer. I can't say I'd teach that to my kids here.

Snakes and Spiders

This is honestly my biggest fear living here. I have been able to stay clear of snakes this year, but spiders are an almost daily nuisance. I never know when or where I will find one crawling in the house. On a few occasions, we've had one on our bed. Thankfully, most of them aren't dangerous and we've never had black widows in the house. Henry finds them from time to time around the yard. I try not to look for them. If I know there could be one hiding somewhere, I let him tackle it. Carefully.


All in all, I like my life here. It's different, but in a lot of ways not that different at all. My husband goes to work. I cook, clean, do the laundry, the dishes, etc. We spend time helping at our church. We hang out with friends. We live life.  I've had to adjust to less convenience than I was used to.  When money is tight, you have to cut costs somewhere. But you learn what matters, what you really need, and what you perhaps just want. In the end, we didn't come here for convenience. We came here because we sense this is where God wants us to be. We're here to serve, not to enjoy every convenience we can. And so we live, love, and try to serve faithfully where needed.

Spring Brings New Life....In a Messy Sort of Way

In the past couple weeks, my life has taken me on a journey of highs and lows. Although most people would never know what I've all been processing and what's been happening, there has been a process of breaking and healing happening. And it feels strangely reminiscent of former years. It seems so often that this time of year for me is a time of painful growth. And then I looked outside and found that my life inside is strangely reminiscent of the world outside.

Spring is coming! There's hope. The freezing winter temperatures are giving way to numbers above zero! It's so exciting. And I look forward to sunshine, warm weather, robins, daffodils, the beach. But today when I look outside, it's kind of yuck. You see, spring doesn't come overnight and the process often leaves things a little messy. As temperatures rise, the snow melts and the white picturesque landscape gives way to one a little less picturesque. Mounds and drifts of snow that were once glistening white get dirty as they shrink and melt away. Patches of exposed earth reveal mud, debris, and dead grass. Nighttime brings in fog and thick mists that last into the afternoon, making very little distinguishable in the distance. Winter was beautiful and summer will be too, but for awhile things look a little dreary and gross. Ah, this is so reminiscent of what has happened in my spiritual life so many times.

The weather as it is now makes for great maple syrup weather. With freezing temperatures at night and single digits warm during the day, the sap is running. But in order for that sap to become the rich, amber syrup I pour on my pancakes, it has to go through a long refining process. The sap is greatly reduced and purified as it's boiled down more and more. Ah, this too, is reminiscent of my life.

As I reflect on the last eight years of my life, the spring months have often been difficult. They have also often been seasons of growth, seasons where I have drawn closer to God, or gotten to know His love more deeply. They have been seasons where the direction of my life has taken a dramatic change. I have left one path to take another people couldn't understand. I have wrestled with God, as He broke my will, brought me to confession, repentance, and painful obedience. I have been in such dark, deep valleys I wished I could just go home to be with Jesus instead of face what was ahead. They have been times of physical illness or spiritual healing as I worked through deep pain and brokenness. They have been seasons like the one I see outside right now. The ice and snow melting away to reveal an ugliness I would much rather keep blanketed in white.

And it has been in these times where I have gotten to know God more. These times happen at other times of the year, not just the spring months. The times I get to know the Father that loves, cherishes and holds me, the One who chastens me because of the depths of His love for me, and breaks me so He can clean and heal the wounds. I get to know Jesus more, the Lover and Prince Who pursues me relentlessly, and wants to take me as His bride. I learn to understand the Spirit, that the conviction I often experience is evidence that I am indeed a child of God, and that He does not ask something of me without giving the comfort, peace and strength to do it. I get to know the God who breaks me and heals me, gently asks me to face the pain, not to hurt me, but because He desperately wants to use it for good. 

It's times, like the moments in the last few weeks that I feel God in a way I can't explain, even when I'm not doing anything normally considered spiritual. It's in the moments that I sense He is moving and saying something, even if I can't understand what it is. It's in the moments, my joy turns to tears because of what I feel inside...He's there. The time I look outside and see the melting snow creating pools and streams, the fog that clouds everything over, and I know this is what it's like. This is what it's often like when God moves and does something new. Sometimes it gets ugly and messy and we have to face a lot of uncomfortable stuff, and things are cloudy and for awhile we can't see clearly what's in front of us. It's when I think of the maple trees and how the sap has to be refined and I see, this is what the Christian life is like. Or just the moments I smile when I see a little girl with Down Syndrome delightedly licking away at a giant swirly lollipop (the kind most parents can't stand) and I feel like I see Jesus.

Can we hold on to these moments? The moments God speaks and brings new life, the moments He shows us His love, or the way He reveals things to us in the simple, everyday things, or the changing of the seasons?

And I think how in just a few weeks the church will celebrate the death, burial, and resurrection of our Lord Jesus, wherein lies our salvation, our hope of eternal life. We always celebrate in spring, amid all the symbols of new life. In spring, we celebrate the New Life that He came to give. And when it happened, it was a messy Spring. It was an agonizing spring that brought that new life, the hardest Jesus had to endure. The grief that made Him drip blood like sweat. The brutal torture he endured. The death He died on a cross as He bore the sin of man and the wrath of God. The darkness that covered the earth as men feared and trembled. The three silent days when those who loved Him feared hope was lost.

Then in one moment. The empty tomb. The shed grave clothes. NEW LIFE!

 But oh, it was a messy Spring.

In order for life to happen, things often get messy first, or downright painful. We see it in nature, in the changing of the seasons, and in the cross. Any mother that has ever given birth can certainly testify to this truth as well. But following the pain, that baby takes it's first breath and utters a cry....and it's beautiful.

Right now things look somewhat dreary and messy outside. But the days are coming where the grass will be thick and lush, the flowers will bloom, the trees will bud, and the robins will sing. And God desires to do the same things in our lives, to bring life and healing out of darkness and pain, to make beautiful what is dirty and messy now.

This is what God does. He brings new life in messy ways. And sometimes we have to wrestle with Him to get it.

"When we get so close to God in our wrestling that He breathes on us, life happens." --Trudy Metzger

Learning to Fail

If there is one thing I often fail at, it's failing, or to be more accurate, accepting that I fail. In general, I have high expectations of myself and I can be a perfectionist. This doesn't translate to all areas of my life, but it's more evident in things I do for others. I want it done right, without a glitch. And I beat myself up when I get the slightest thing wrong.  Most people would never know how I get down on myself about my failures, because I'm often too embarrassed to let it show.  But it nags at my conscience and eats away at me. It can drive me to depression if I don't get over it.

I have learned that there are areas where I extend a lot more grace to other people than I do to myself. I allow other people to mess up a lot more than me. And this is wrong. It's not healthy. Not being able to accept failure and move on can have a seriously negative impact on one's life.

So as of late I've been learning to let stuff go. I'm trying to learn the balance between not being too careful and not being careless. I'm learning to stop, pray, forgive myself, and keep going. And with that I also need to learn to accept failure without excusing sin.

Recently, I was working on a high school English course, and for my final assignment I had to choose four pieces of work to submit that I felt best showed my improvement. I was supposed to show a balance of my best work, in addition to an essay assignment. As I reviewed work from the last few months, I settled on an assignment that was certainly not my best work. It was an assignment where I had to research people and terms related to existentialist philosophy and write about them. I hated it and found it depressing to just read about some of these people and their ideas. I procrastinated, did a little at a time, and pushed my way grudgingly through it. It took me entirely too long, and I wasn't sure what was going to be the end point of it all. It was not my best work, but I decided this would be one of my four assignments to submit. I wasn't expecting good grades, and I knew I could very well be hurting my mark, but I also couldn't pass it up and say I did all that work for nothing. I submitted it to show my persistence. To my surprise, with the other assignments and the essay, I received the highest grade I had so far in the course.

If you read my New Year's post and my mission for this year, you know I'm destined for failure.  Some people that I've shared this idea with in the past month have certainly not all shared my enthusiasm. They know it will be a huge flunk. They almost convinced me to back out or maybe reduce my goal a little. But no, I'm going to stick to it, even if I'm destined to fail. I know there will be days I will have nothing to write down. But I need to learn to pick myself up the next day and keep going.

It scares me to make it my aim to accept failure. It doesn't seem very appealing, and I think I may be inviting more failure. I need to learn it's okay not to be perfect, it's okay to take off the masks, it's okay to mess up. With that I need to look to the Lord for grace, for forgiveness, for cleansing from my sin, for His Spirit to live in and through me, because I can't do it. And my God's okay with that.

Confessions of an Aspiring Hermit

Last month, I came home from serving in NY, and as great as it always is, I must confess something unusual happens to me when I come home.  I crash and become depressed.  There, I said it.

I haven't been able to completely understands why this happens to me.  It seems to vary depending on the circumstances that are present in my life at the time.  But when I come home from serving, I have often become depressed, self-absorbed, crabby, and no good to be around.  I have spent weeks giving of myself, from the time I get up, to the time I go to bed, and now suddenly, I don't want to.  I don't want to give of myself anymore.  I don't want to sacrifice for other people.  I want to be left alone, to myself, and do my own thing.

Again, it seems to vary based on circumstances.  I come home to no job, therefore I find I have little motivation to get up in the morning.  Without what I perceive to be a meaningful way to give of myself, I become very unmotivated and selfish.  Yes, there's my family, but sadly I have discovered that it's often a lot easier to give selflessly somewhere else than it is at home.  No, it shouldn't be this way, but that's often how I become.

So in my depressed, unmotivated state, I come up with a grand, noble idea.  I'll become a hermit!

 

Noooo! I don't want to be a crab!

Wait a minute.  Did I say before I was crabby?  Uh, yeah, about that..... 

A hermit.  I want to be a hermit.  Since I don't want to go anywhere or do anything or see or talk to anyone, I'll just stay at home.  I'll take the opportunity to read, and study, and spend time with Jesus, and it's gonna be wonderful!  If I don't go anywhere and don't talk to anyone, I won't hurt anybody and nobody will hurt me.  I will keep to myself, learn and blossom in knowledge and in my relationship with the Lord in the parameters of my two rooms.  Oh, just the thought is almost bliss!  What could possibly be wrong with this?

Here's my confession though.  I have never been a happy hermit.  At least not for very long.  Every time I set out to be a hermit, the excitement is short-lived.  But instead of simply becoming sociable again, a raging war ensues.  You see, when I make up my mind to become a hermit, it's hard to persuade myself to get out of my shell, even after I know I won't be happy in it.  I mean, it can be hard to get out.  My mind can conjure up so many great excuses, that I can make sound very legitimate, why it's best to stay home.  Alone.  I become almost like Gollum and Smeagol, arguing with myself.  I can spit out lists of things I could do, time, finances, health, or other clever things depending on the situation.  But deep down I know.  This isn't for my long-term good.

"No man is an island."  Ah yes, one of the famous quotes we learn in school.  It's true.  As much as I would like to convince myself I could live a happy life as a hermit, I need people.  There is a risk in opening ourselves up to people, true.  But it is needful.  We need community.  Bad things often happen to people who shut others out.

As the body of Christ, we need each other, the church.  We need people to come alongside us and lift us up when we're weary.  And instead of just focusing on ourselves, we also need to be there for others when they are down and weary.  We are meant to bear each others' burdens and encourage each other in our race on earth.  When I get into my depressed, hermit-like mood, I have to remind myself of Proverbs 18:1.  "Whoever isolates himself seeks his own desire; he breaks out against all sound judgment."  Isolating ones self from other people is not wise. 

Tenth Avenue North recently released a song that speaks on this matter.

So take their words to heart.  We're not meant to live this life alone.

What Did I Expect?

Every New Year's, our church gathers for a time of celebrating, a slideshow of the year's events, and sharing of what God has done in the past year.  At the end of the service, we all have the opportunity to pick up what we call a promise verse, something for us to hold on to for the coming year.  With anticipation, I walk up to the front, look at all the little pieces of paper face down on the little table, and randomly choose one, wondering what kind of promise or fate will be revealed.  It's almost like breaking open a fortune cookie, except I can't endorse putting a lot of weight in the little paper inside.  Can I just eat the cookie?

Anyway, this past New Year's, as I picked up my promise verse and read it, I wasn't exactly filled with joy.  It was more like fear.  If I was going to hold onto this promise throughout the year, it meant I would be encountering some difficulty.

Hebrews 13:5 (ESV)
Keep your life free from love of money, and be content with what you have, for he has said, "I will never leave you nor forsake you."

You see, I didn't know at the time that I would be writing my resignation a few weeks later and spend most of my year unemployed.  I had no idea how much I would have to be content with what I had, and lean on God's faithfulness and promise to take care of me.  I also had no idea what kind of opportunities would follow my decision to stop working.

It was in March that a man who has had a big impact in my life suggested I consider missions.  Although I was content to take a bit of a break from work, I hadn't considered missions a great deal.  I always wanted to go on a missions trip while I was still single, but I didn't think of that necessarily being the time.  I knew I wanted to go to Haiti and I looked into whether or not that was still a possibility.  I further prayed that if the Lord wanted me to do missions, to make me aware of opportunities.  It was only days later that I heard on the radio about a need for volunteers in New York City to help with Hurricane Sandy relief and I began to plan for a one week trip.

This year, I have made five different trips, three of which were to Staten Island.  In those first few months of traveling, one of the questions I got asked often was  "How are you paying for all of this?"  To be honest, I only paid one trip completely out of my pocket.  For the others, many or all of my expenses were covered otherwise.  I have had opportunities this year that I never would have dreamed of when I picked up that promise verse.

When I came home from my last term in NY, I knew I had some responsibilities to tend to, and more than that, I needed to find work.  I didn't think I was that naive about the labour market in my area, but I must say that it has taken a lot longer than I expected.  I would be lying to say that I have always remained joyful through this effort.  I would be lying to say that I always had unshaking confidence that God would answer my prayers in the way I wanted.  And employment was not the only issue I was seeking the Lord about.  There have been a lot of other things going on in my mind and heart that I was trying to understand the Lord's will in.  There were times I said to myself or friends "My life makes no sense!"  And there were times I would kneel and come before the throne and just say "Lord, I don't understand."

To be honest, there were times when I briefly thought "Maybe my last term in NY wasn't such a good idea."  But I always crushed that idea pretty quick.  Last night I had the privilege of reconnecting with some fellow volunteers, meeting new ones, sharing memories, laughter, and tears.  You see, I recognize that despite the uncertainty of my life right now, I would not take back the last 7 months.  I would not go back and choose a different path.  I know how incredibly blessed I have been to be able to do what I have done.  I would not trade the experiences of this year for financial ease.  They have been worth the uncertainty of life.

I think part of the problem of what I experienced coming home is that I had this proud and unscriptural expectation that, since I spent so much of my time this year serving, God would bless me with a great job soon after I came home.  I had gained all this great experience and honed some leadership qualities.  Surely some great employer would see what I had to offer and hire me in an instant!  Not so.  And God does not owe me anything.  In truth, He gave me a lot more than I could have asked for.

I have come to an incredible realization recently.  It's a very obvious one at that.  You may even wonder just how thick-headed I am.  Here it is.  Free time and money rarely coexist in abundance, at least not for a long period of time.  You see, when you work, you are able to accumulate resources, but are limited as to what you can do with your time.  When you stop working, you have a lot of time, but your resources dictate where you go and what you do.  I recognize that this experience is not unique to my life, but is that of most of this world's population.

Obvious, it seems, but I have begun to understand this phenomenon and the frustrations related to it firsthand in a new way, as I have had a great deal of time, but a limited supply of resources at my disposal.  I am so grateful though, that I have learned to be disciplined in the way I manage finances, have been adamant about not making debt, and am usually not inclined to have a lot of stuff or the latest gadgets.

I have wrestled with a lot of different emotions through this.  There have been days I've been so frustrated that I don't have meaningful ways to use my time, and I have to remind myself there are things I can do now, that I won't be able to do later.  There are days I don't understand what the Lord's purpose is in this, but then I remember that I have gained a greater understanding of Who He is, and the love that He desires for me to have for Him.  I don't fail to see the times He provides in little ways.  And (although I admit there have been times where I have not felt positively about the way some people tried to encourage me) I have been grateful for the people--friends, mentors, past volunteers--who have lifted me up, prayed for me, and helped in other ways.

So what did I expect this year?  Two months ago?  Not this. Not all the amazing experiences, nor the not-so-amazing challenges.  But I know I serve One Who is called Faithful and True, One Who calls me His beloved, One Who promised never to leave me nor forsake me.  And I know I'm blessed.

"God will give you the very blessings you ask if you refuse to go any further without them, but His silence is the sign that He is bringing you to an even more wonderful understanding of Himself." --Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest

Reflecting Him Part 1

This post was written after a tiring week, but I don't know when it will go onto my blog.  As for some background, at New Year's, my primary vision for 2013 was that in good times, and in hard times, God's grace and strength would be reflected in my life.  This post is a look at my week and what I learned through it. (I have been non-specific about some things to keep some aspects of my life/work more private.)

*  *  *  *  *

I go to bed earlier to catch up on sleep I missed the night before.  Monday went alright, but I know I have stresses and long days ahead of me yet.  I need the rest and energy, and I pray for a good night.  I fall asleep quickly, or at least I think so.  The next thing I remember is various thoughts going through my mind.  I'm in a half-awake and dreaming at the same time.  I begin to shake underneath my blankets.  No, I can't get sick now.  I have an important meeting today.  I wonder if I will have to call in.  I've never had to do that before.

Wondering how much time I have before I have to get up, I turn over to look at the alarm clock.  It's only 11:22.  I still have over six hours.  I push the covers back and head down to the bathroom.  There I continue to shake violently.  This happens all too often to me.  I try to relax my shaking body, then go to the kitchen where I measure a spoon of antacid into a glass of water.  I drink the bubbling mixture, hoping it will work quickly and I will be able to sleep again.

Shortly hereafter, I make my way back to bed, only to come back down to the bathroom several times.  I try to vomit, but am not successful.  After being up for about two hours, I drift off to sleep.  In the morning, I pull myself out of bed, force some breakfast down, take a Gravol and go to work.

*  *  *  *  *

I have been praying about this meeting for weeks.  I have feared it.  I stare out the window watching scenery and traffic go by and pray again.  I know we'll need it.  Afterward, I walk out confused.  It went totally different than expected.  Better than expected.  I want to thank God, but I'm so confused, I only wonder when the next attack will come.

Why do I do this? Why is it that when things go better than expected, I either think I was worried for no reason, or that something bad is yet bound to happen?  I pray for weeks about something, and then when it goes well, I don't even give credit to God.  Why do I strip Him of the praise He deserves?

*  *  *  *  *

I come home late.  It has now been 14 hours since I left that morning.  Another fearful meeting has gone better than expected.  I'm very tired and hungry.  Nothing is prepared for me.  I pull out a carton of almond milk and Cheerios.  This is as much supper as I can handle half an hour before bed.  Must try to get 8 hours of sleep tonight, because I have the same kind of day ahead of me tomorrow, although likely not quite as late.

*  *  *  *  *

I drive myself to another meeting.  It's an hour to my destination.  I can follow Christian radio stations for the whole drive, but I'm looking forward to getting past the next city where the traffic thins out.  These are moments I'm thankful for.  After the meeting, I make a similar drive home, although slower than usual with the snow in some areas.  I arrive home earlier than last night.  I had noticed pork chops thawing on the kitchen counter that morning and looking forward to something close to a real supper.  There are, however, no pork chops left.  I cut a bagel in half, push down the toaster, and pull a jar of Cheez Whiz out of the fridge. I don't even like this stuff, but I crave it occasionally and don't want butter again.  How does that work?

*  *  *  *  *

So there's snippets of a few of my days.  What did I learn from all this?  Although I was busy, tired, and had little time to think or focus on anything other than work, I can never shut my mind off completely. Some of the things I have described are common for me.  Others perhaps not so much.  What I saw though is that when I desire to reflect God's strength, my circumstances don't always change.  God doesn't always sugar-coat things for me or smooth out the road.  Life is still hard.  I still get tired.  I still feel sick during nights I really need sleep.  I still have to get up and go to work when I really don't want to.  So how do I reflect God's grace in all of this?

Response.  That's what it comes down to.  I can whine and complain, or I can invite God into my circumstances.  The difference is in how I respond.  And to be honest, my response is generally to complain and get irritable with people around me, to mope in my self-pity.  Perhaps that's largely what I've been doing in this post.  

When I look back on this week, I can't identify a moment where God's strength was incredibly evident.  But I do recognize where I had peace that I normally would not have.  I have recognized meetings that went better than they should have.  And yet, my first instinct wasn't to praise God and give Him credit for these things, although I had prayed significantly about them.  I know I'm not the only one to do this but why do we do that?  Why do we dismiss things and say that maybe we were just overreacting or getting worried for nothing when things go better?  Why do we try to credit our own strength when we can go to work when we don't want to, when we can speak with confidence and peace, when just the thought of something half an hour earlier terrified us?  It's something I don't entirely understand.

This I do understand.  We reflect God's grace and strength in how we respond to circumstances.  We reflect His grace when we give Him the credit that's rightfully His.  We also reflect Him when we intercede for others in our own hard times.  

But that's too much for this post, and I will continue my story later.

To be continued....