Far From Home (Turkey, Color - August 2015 to August 2016

Being in Cheyenne, seeing the unchanged parts of the town, being flooded with memories from high school that I’d rather just forget about (and do pretty well doing until I come back here) has sent me through an odd set of emotions. I was telling Josh on messenger today that, “I still don’t like this town.” I just don’t. It’s strange how a place can be tainted - Cheyenne didn’t do anything to me. I love the people I knew here and that were a part of my life during those 4 years I was here - I just don’t like it much because of all the other stuff…..the associations. I suppose it’s time for me to grow up and get over it.

I’m so thankful that just by the grace of God I am not who I was all those years ago. *shudder*. Yuck. My lack of understanding of who Christ is and what my life should have looked like if I truly was committed to him was obvious through those two years of high school and one year at LCCC.

That was then.

This is now.

All that being said, I drive around remembering things and it makes the past 6 years of life strangely surreal. Like I haven’t been to the places I’ve been. I look at my boys and then look up again at my surroundings and there’s a huge disconnect. This isn’t home just as much as any other earthly place isn’t home, but it’s more than that. I feel comfortable at my Dad and Mel’s house out in the country, but I feel squirmy and uncomfortable in town.

I took them to Lion’s park today - it was GORGEOUS out. NO wind (wow!) and it got even more pleasant when it clouded over and cooled down a bit. I remember loving the daily thunderstorms that would roll over the town in the summers. The boys and I walked part way around Sloan’s lake and watched the ducks ruffle water into their wings and scatter when the boys threw leaves at them. They climbed the towering trees on the shore and picked at the reeds growing by the little streams leading into the Lake. We’d packed a picnic lunch so we sat in the plush green grass by the playground in the shade of a tree and enjoyed the odds and ends I’d thrown in the bag. They were thankful for the fun meal and said so and that blessed my heart tremendously. As weird as I felt sitting in that park again, it was a healing blessing to have a quiet picnic with them talking gently to one another, enjoying their food and being openly thankful that I’d brought them to the park and for the particular food I’d chosen. The seemed to wash away part of the bitter taste I have in my mouth of this town. I suppose it’s just like anyone with a past they’d wished they’d handled differently - I know I’m not unique in that. For me, it’s this place. It reminds me of that past. Those precious boys sitting with me were a stunning reminder that the Lord washes away the guilt of un Godly behavior and unwise relationships - he’s given me a faithful, God fearing, loving husband and this is the very town in which I met and started to fall in love with him. That should take precedence over any sour memory I made for myself in this town.

The last few days have been very difficult. I threw an adult fit yesterday around lunch time as three of them through their kid fits. It’s been a long while since I reacted in that way. It broke my heart, but I was astounded once again at the Lord’s provision when I turned around from working on something at the counter and my dad was standing there. He’d seemed to come out of nowhere. I filled him in on what the happenings were and why my face looked the way it did, and then burst into tears. He turned to the boys and set things straight, letting them know that Papa wasn’t going to stand for any behavior like this. He got stern with them and then took me outside and got stern with me. I needed it! I berate these boys too much. I always have. I default into wanting to explain and use logic with them before just disciplining and it just doesn’t work. I laugh now as I think about the statement he made, that is so utterly true - something to the effect of me trying to use western, grown-up logic on an age group of children that has no logic formed in their brains yet. HA! Yes, that is what I do. I’ve all but lost control of my own household these past several days and I’m so very grateful for his support and his willingness and eagerness to help me and back me in bringing it back into order. The boys have responded beautifully to his talk. They’ve been gentler with one another, more responsive when I speak to and correct them and I’m so encouraged by how excited they are to see him when he stops in before he leaves for work in the morning and then again once he gets home at night. They were SO hungry for stern man attention and correction! Thank you, Daddy!

Much of my time has been communicating as much as possible with Josh, who along with 1500 other U.S. troops remains without power in his home. He spends much of his time at the clinic as it’s a welcomed respite from the hot box, dark house. He’s in good spirits and has reassured me that he tells me the full truth when he says he feels completely safe. The situation is ridiculous, to say the least, but their safety remains. We are still hopeful that he will get out in August. Please be praying for that. We take great comfort in knowing that none of this has been a surprise for our all knowing Creator and that He has Josh right where he’s supposed to be. I am forced to really lean in to Christ - more than ever before in my life. He is sufficient, and without him I am nothing and helpless. Surviving this scenario, these health issues, these young boys and the challenges that 4 brothers brings would drive me simply mad if it weren’t for Christ. I certainly recognize that I am not running on my own strength. When I try, like at lunch yesterday, I do lost my mind and I snap and fall face first. He’s ever so gentle in the ways he picks me back up and brushes me off and gives the boys tender hearts toward my hurting one.

Thank you, sweet, precious Jesus, for your healing grace. Your future grace is all that drives me forward.

My dad’s place has a pool and we’ve spent much time in it already. We enjoy the backyard with the boys dump trucks that we bought while out running errands yesterday and have every intention of adorning the pool deck with colorful sidewalk chalk art on a cloudy afternoon. Or maybe we’ll eat breakfast out there one morning and do it then. That would be a memory for them! I want so desperately for this trip and transition and time for them to be beautiful and full of memories of out of the ordinary fun things. I want the hard parts of it to be vague to them when think back on it. For the memory of the absence of their Daddy in this time to be something that reminds them of the sovereignty of Christ and how he is our sufficient sustainer. That is what I long for.