I Almost Didn't Go...

“If you look for truth, you may find comfort in the end; if you look for comfort you will not get either comfort or truth only soft soap and wishful thinking to begin, and in the end, despair.” –C.S. Lewis

"Comfort and prosperity have never enriched the world as much as adversity has." -Billy Graham   

"It is quite useless knocking at the door of heaven for earthly comfort. It's not the sort of comfort they supply there." -C.S. Lewis

 I almost didn’t go.  7 o’clock is a late hour when you start your day at 4:15am.  It’s the time of day where kids are bathing and winding down and mom is counting down the clock to 8pm bedtime.  I had even lain down with my daughter at her naptime so I would be rested and ready, because I knew that I would take any excuse as why it would be better for me to stay home and go to bed and not keep my kids out so late.  And then of course I woke up with a nap hangover, even sleepier than before.  

Pride.  I don’t want to appear weak or incapable or in need…I want to be a supermom and wife and be strong with unwavering perseverance as we walk through this difficult season…on my own... I am a glory thief. 

I have a lot of fear of exposing deep ugly parts of a messy heart.  That I’ll be judged.  But more than any of that…I want to walk in freedom.  And joy.  And I need real strength.  And the peace that passes all understanding.   I know there is only One who can abundantly give these things and satisfy an aching weary soul.   And when I’m searching for comforts and control in creation rather than from the Creator, shame and defeat shackle my heart.  White flag raised...I can’t do it.  I knew I had to go…and He was calling me.  “Come…let Me bless you…hear My story of redemption and hope shared through the lives of the broken.  Come lay down your burdened heart…and I will give you rest.”   

And so I loaded up the kids, heart fearful yet hopeful.  And we went.  To a place where the broken meet.  

This journey has been a lot harder than I thought it would be.  I am learning that if I rely on my own strength to make it thru each day I become a crumbling mess.  I was telling my son, Saxon, that I had been praying for God’s comfort and that He would help me not run to candies of “instant gratification” or “escapism” like food or wine or television or the computer.  That He would comfort me.  And my son, so wise beyond his years, asks “why don’t you let your friends comfort you?”  It was as if the Lord just spoke Truth right thru this little 8 year olds breath.  Because community…the body of Christ…is a beautiful place where the Lord comforts.  And I think sometimes I shy away from community because I don’t want to be “needy” and “burdensome” and I know other people have their problems and mine really aren’t going away and I don’t want to be the person that keeps on needing.  Keeps on hurting.  Keeps on struggling.  

But that is EXACTLY where the Lord has me.  And you know what He says about it?  

“Blessed are the poor in spirit,
    for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
⁴ Blessed are those who mourn,
    for they will be comforted.
⁵ Blessed are the meek,
    for they will inherit the earth.
⁶ Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
    for they will be filled.
⁷ Blessed are the merciful,
    for they will be shown mercy.
⁸ Blessed are the pure in heart,
    for they will see God.
⁹ Blessed are the peacemakers,
    for they will be called children of God.
¹⁰ Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness,
    for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

Matthew 5:3-10

He says that when we surrender our pride and confess our need and mourn our sin and seek Him, we are BLESSED!!!  And I have to say that I have been blessed beyond anything I ever imagined in these last 5 months.  By so many people who have sent us gift after gift and paid our bills and sent encouraging letters and emails and prayers and taking care of our kids and moving into our house and contributing to our travel arrangements to see Rick and loving us well.  A testament of His Truth.  Of His goodness.  Of His love.  

So we arrived at our church that has a program called “Steps”.   And I am so glad they came.  Other broken spirited souls who have sought out community and rallied around each other and shared their stories of hurt and infidelity and addiction and incredible loss and sickness and anger bondage and ravaging pride and painful abuse and broken families and so much more…and how the Lord redeems and heals and sets free and gives grace and joy to these “needy” people… and it was all I needed to hear to know that I was right where I was suppose to be.  To hear the Gospel through their stories was sweet medicine.  And I saw strength and joy and freedom that these cross clingers wore like a glorious medal bestowed from the bloody battlefields of life.  And they were blessed.   And they were a blessing.  To me.  To all the other weary hearts who were there for Truth.  Comfort.  To be blessed.  His grace covers all.  ALL.  There is no sin too big or darkness too black that His grace cannot redeem.

I’m glad I have a place to go every week.  Especially after our visits with Rick.

One of the hardest parts of visiting Rick with the kids is that it amplifies that he’s not here.  I get used to him not being here after time passes.  But when we visit him and we are all there together as a family and the dynamic is whole…his absence is amplified in the leaving.  

I’ve heard the word “amputation” used when describing a divorce.  When I was 9 my parents ended their marriage.  I remember it being painful.  I remember crying and being sad that they wouldn’t be together anymore and my dad would be living somewhere else...alone.  But what I remember most is how hard it was to go and see my dad and then how hard it was to leave again.  Until finally after a couple of years of doing this over and over again, every other weekend, and one month in the summer…I stopped.  It was simply too painful.  And I didn’t really know how to sort out those feelings or articulate what it was at the time that made me not want to go and see him, but now I understand.  It just ripped the heart right open and I wanted the bleeding to stop.  This sort of feels like that.  Each visit reopens the wound. 

Last weekend we headed for Big Spring.  My mom and stepdad went too.  I was glad to have them there.  Especially for moral support.  We left on Friday after school and drove the long stretch of flat dusty highways and rugged landscapes littered with rocks and cotton and bushes.  And then about an hour outside of Big Spring, there were miles and miles of tall white spinning blades.  Converting wind to electricity.  The kids played their electronics and watched movies and were excited to arrive at our weekend home.  And to be in the arms of their much loved daddy. 

I was hoping Big Spring would kinda start to grow on me.  Not so much.  I woke up the first night at 3am to a fire alarm malfunctioning at the hotel and the second night to the foul stench of natural gas that had settled like a fog over the town, seeping into our hotel rooms, a gift of the large oil refinery up the way.  And the food.  My kids don’t even like the food.  And its Wendy’s…   We did find one hidden gem the last night we were there.  An old 1931 hotel recently restored.  Beautiful.  Historic.  And an amazing restaurant.   And the whole town was there too.

Then all the labored travels with 3 kids leads up a road of crumbling building decay to a crowded room with rules placed on hugs and kisses and sitting positions.  Sitting for hours on end in hard plastic back chairs eating lunch out of a vending machine.  A delicacy to Rick.  The burgers that come out of that machine are gourmet compared to the food they serve the prisoners.   

It is always good to see him.  The kids seemed more at ease.  Arista must have felt more comfortable because she threw a couple of her crazy temper tantrums.  Thankfully they did not terminate our visit.  The kids played dominos and memory and Rick did card tricks for them which they marveled at.  We had a lot of good laughs and shared stories and made dreams of what we will do when he comes home.  His heart is so sweet and resolved to focus on the good.  

And in a place of hardened hearts, Rick is determined not to succumb to the prison plague.  But it is a daily struggle considering the circumstances.  Being away from his family and loved ones.  Itching like crazy due to the harsh detergents that they use and they haven't given him medicine for it.  Not getting life sustaining drugs.  Being yelled at by various correctional officers who find joy in exerting power and spewing hate.  Living in that dusty smelly town where pollens are abundant and an oil refinery pollutes the air.  There are no couches to sit on or places of respite.  The food they eat is labeled “institutional.  Not fit for human consumption.  Inmates only.”  Most of it is well beyond the expiration date, canned and of little nutritional value.  

It hurts to see someone you love being treated like this.  Not being taken care of properly.  Uncomfortable.  Frustrated.  Trapped.  It makes me so sad.  And sad that I never even considered a prisoner’s plight.  I think I probably even thought they deserved it.  But the Lord’s sweet grace has opened my eyes to His wayward people that He loves and treasures and I am so grateful.  He’s grown compassion right deep in the trenches of my heart.  So maybe I can be a part of His work in caring for the lost and broken.  To offer hope.  To share His love.  To be the blessing. 

³⁴ “Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. ³⁵ For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, ³⁶ I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’

³⁷ “Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? ³⁸ When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? ³⁹ When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’

⁴⁰ “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’  -Matthew 25:34-40