We're moving.

That's right, the Sauders are moving.  (And no, not back to America. Not today, anyway.)

Last month our landlords broke the news to us that they had sold our house.  It came as a complete shock and I remember sitting on the couch just hoping they were playing some sort of Thai April Fool's Joke on us.  No such luck.  The reality remained that after almost 4 years in our beloved house, we were going to have to find a new place to call home.  (Thankfully, we know of a pretty cool business that helps foreigners relocate in Chiang Mai!  And actually, Steven found us a house within a week that's in the same neighborhood for almost half the price that we pay now.  Way to go, Expat Homes!)  But even so, this transition has been really hard for me.  It probably seems silly to some, after all, it's just a house... but I've had a hard time letting go and trusting God with this one.  (Big shocker, I know.)

Yet anyone who knows me well could probably tell you that there are two things that I've found great comfort in while living in Thailand; Pawn and our home.  In a sense, they have been an on-going encouragement to my soul when things have been hard.  A quick and tangible thing I could always thank God for when my heart was homesick or discouraged.  Well, in the last few months, for whatever reason God has chosen to take those two blessings away.  Pawn is no longer working for us and has taken a different job (a transition that's been even harder than moving houses, but that's another blog post in and of itself that I just haven't had the energy to process) and now saying goodbye to our beautiful and comfortable home.  The whole thing has honestly felt like such a big loss.  Pawn was not only one of my best friends, she was also my family and ministry.  Our home was not only a safe haven, it was a life-line for me to use my gift of hospitality and my love for gathering people together.  Like I said, the combination of losing these two significant and life-giving blessings has been difficult and has left me feeling lonely, sad or just plain angry more times than I'd like to admit.

Take this week, for example.  I've been so tired.  We are in the middle of packing up the house so we can move out before the end of the month, so I've spent my days sorting, piling, organizing, trashing and cleaning.  It's hot.  I'm pregnant.  We're living in a mess.  Steven's been working during the day and spending nights at the new house trying to fix it up and make it ready for us to live in.  Even though I think he enjoys the manual labor, it still makes for a long day for him.  And to top it all off, our adorable little William has fully embraced the trying "Terrible Twos" and I feel like all I've been doing lately is disciplining him.  So my day is either packing by myself or disciplining/talking with a defiant 2 year old.  Not what I call fun.  It makes me miss my mom, wishing she was here to pick up William for the day or to keep me company and help me pack.  And as you could probably guess, all of this has not left me in a good place.  I've had a horrible attitude.  I'm physically and emotionally exhausted.  I've pouted, complained and cried.  I've been ungrateful, crabby and a bear to live with.  In other words, I've been acting just like my 2 year old kicking and screaming the whole way to our new house.  

Crap.

One of William's biggest "challenges" is how he reacts when I tell him "no" or take something away from him.  He will either stomp his feet, cry, scream or deliberately disobey.  He's a stinker and is good at putting up a fight, rarely saying "okay" with a joyful heart.  Hmmm... I wonder where he gets that from?! Parenting is so humbling, isn't it?  You see so much of yourself and your own sin in your child and it often serves up a big dose of adult reality.  And that's exactly where I found myself today.  When William reacted poorly to something, I had to have this conversation with him (for the millionth time, might I add).  It went a little something like this: "William, do you trust Mama? Do you trust that I have your best interest at heart? When Mommy tells you something, it is for your own good.  It is not to be mean or to make you sad.  It is because Mommy knows what's best for you and it's because she loves you that she sometimes needs to say "no".  When you react like that, it is disobedient, disrespectful and shows Mommy that you are not trusting her.  I need you to learn to trust Mommy even when it's hard and you don't want to.  No kicking and screaming, no stomping your feet... trust and obey with a joyful heart, please."  As the words were coming out of my mouth, how could I not be convicted myself?  I imagined myself in William's place, only having the conversation with God.  Suddenly the "Terrible Twos" were looking an awful lot like the "Terrible Thirties" and I was humbled at the fact that I am still learning the same lessons that I'm trying to teach my son.  "Lauren, do you trust Me? Do you trust that I have your best interest at heart?  When I take things away from you, do you trust that I have better things in store?  Do you trust that I am a Father who loves giving good gifts to His children?  Do you believe that I am good and worthy of your trust?  Your complaining and ungrateful heart only reveals your distrust in Me.  Can you learn to trust and obey with a joyful heart?"  Man. I'm trying to teach William to trust me--his mom who loves him dearly yet is someone flawed and full of sin.  How much easier should it be for me to trust God--someone who has never failed me, loves me perfectly and is completely holy?  And how can I lose my patience with William, when I think about how many times God has had to have this same conversation with me?  What a patient and loving God to continue giving me chances to trust Him and then extending grace upon grace to forgive me when I don't.  

Needless to say, as I was giving William a hug and kiss to end our conversation, I felt like God was doing the same for me.  No condemnation, just love and a genuine desire for me to trust in Him and His goodness.  It was enough for me to gain a different perspective for the day, apologize to Steven for being so crabby and ask for the grace to have a joyful heart in the midst of disappointment.  So here's to tomorrow and hoping William and I can remember these truths...