Momma said there'd be days like this...

Yesterday was just one of those days.

They always come out of nowhere.  It's annoying how they can completely catch me off guard and then send me in this downward spiral.  You would think I would be used to it by now.  Almost 3 years in, you'd assume I'd find ways of coping and dealing with these kinds of days.

...

Yesterday was just one of those days where all I wanted to do was cook with my mom and prepare thanksgiving dinner with her.  I just wanted to laugh with her, learn from her and build more memories with her.  Even though there's technology, I still miss her every day.

Yesterday was just one of those days that I regretted missing my grandpa's funeral and could no longer ignore this deep ache and yearning to see him just one more time.  I had a dream the other night that he was sitting under a beautiful fall tree and I heard his deep, gentle voice call out to me.  I woke up so disappointed.  Some days I just don't have the patience to wait until heaven to embrace him.

And yesterday, as a gazed at my beautiful baby boy, I felt this small, yet sharp pang of guilt.  As people start preparing for the holidays, I realized that William will miss out on much of the joy and excitement that surrounds this "most wonderful time of the year".  Singing Christmas carols, experiencing a snow fall, opening presents with our families on Christmas morning.  Somewhere along the way, my wonderful Christmas memories have turned into painful reminders of what William won't have.

Sigh.

Yesterday was just one of those days where I was so very very homesick.

I used to get mad at myself when I felt this way.  I thought that God was disappointed in me, as if it showed a lack of devotion and love for Him.  Every time I was homesick, I tried to tell myself that "I shouldn't feel that way" and to "suck it up".  Didn't I love God?  Yes.  Didn't other people have it worse?  Yes.  Wasn't I being a baby?  Yes.  This led to guilt, which led to anger, which ultimately left me bitter.  A bitter heart towards myself.  Towards people in America.  Towards Steven.  And most of all, a bitter heart towards God.

But, I don't think that's true anymore.  And I'm thankful for the much needed freedom that comes from that.  Amidst my sin and selfishness, God continually offers me much grace.  Especially on hard days like yesterday.

It wasn't too long ago that Steven and I made the decision to stay in Thailand.  To say it was a hard and painful decision would be a complete understatement.  It tore us up and almost apart.  Friends and family often ask me  what . the . heck . happened.  Seeing the state we were in this summer, almost everyone thought we were done.  What had changed?  

And the only way I know how to explain it is that I felt intimately cared for by God.  As soon as we landed back in Thailand, I just felt... Him.  He was all around and in all things.  I couldn't ignore it.  Everywhere I turned, in every situation, I felt Him saying, "I see you, Lauren.  I see you."

And that's how I knew we were supposed to stay.  Not because everything was better and certainly not because I was no longer homesick.  It was because, despite those things, I knew God saw me and cared for me.  He wasn't going leave me to continue down this road alone.  He was right there, encouraging me and fighting for me.  My God, the infinite God of the Universe, was paying attention to me and choosing to care for my needs.  How incredibly humbling.

And so, with yesterday just being one of those days, I was reminded of my continual need to remember the ways in which I've felt seen.  To not only put things into perspective, but to reclaim in my soul the love and grace God has so lavishly shown me.   May I frequent this post with a thankful heart so when hard days creep in again, I can cling to these beautiful and visible truths.

Doing life with our best friends: Upon returning to Thailand, Liv left this in our room.  It was accompanied by a heartfelt note saying that, "No matter the potential craziness that lies ahead, we are excited to walk through this hard time with you and we want you clearly knowing we love you dearly and sincerely."  

What more could you ask for?

Being reunited with Pawn: I don't know if she will ever know how much she means to us and how much she has impacted our lives.  The way she serves our family, how she loves William and the friend she has been to me... there are just no words.  I couldn't be in Thailand without her.

Thailand's beauty: Steven and I escaped into the mountains one day to this secluded pool.  As we sat there, taking in the breathtaking view, we couldn't believe that we lived here.  I believe Steven's words were, "I mean, some people save up their whole lives to visit a place like this!  And this is our home!"  It's true.  Thailand is absolutely beautiful and we are blessed to live in such an amazing place.

Our team: Despite the ups and downs of life, we have team leaders and teammates who ultimately care for US.  We trust that they truly love us, care for us and want us to go where God leads.  

What deep peace that gives us.

A flexible baby: William has experienced a lot in his 1 year of life.  What a blessing to have a baby who sleeps well, eats well, goes to anyone, plays with anything, etc.

The opportunity to use my love for cooking: At least once a week, I get to teach a house helper how to cook some of my favorite recipes.  How life-giving.  My grandma would be so proud.  :)

My Thailand bestie: Bonnie.  Love her, appreciate her, need her.  She was my answer to prayer when I needed a friend last year.  And not just any friend... a deep, soul-connected, 

"we-just-get-eachother" friend.

Seeing Steven use his gifts: Even though he has a lot on his plate and it can be stressful at times, I absolutely love seeing Steven create.  He's excited, fulfilled and sleeps well at night.  :)  As a wife, it just does something for my soul.  I'm so blessed to watch God do a work in Steven and in Expat Homes.

Our mentors: God placed Jen and Buddy in our lives at a crucial point and have since become so incredibly special to us. They have challenged us, loved us, served us and supported us in more ways than we could count.  We're grateful. 

Family support: We know that it is hard on our families that we are so far, but they always try their hardest to makes us feel included and loved.  They call to sing William "Happy Birthday!", send packages, send emails & texts and make long trips across the ocean to come visit.  I suppose that's why I often get homesick... you would too if you had families like ours.  :)

grace like rain.

grace.

It's what I tell people I've learned the most about from this past year.

grace.

It's what I so desperately needed, yet so strongly despised.

grace.

It's how God covered me and what He lavishly poured out on me.

Despite myself, this last year, grace reigned.

praise him.

It's a really ugly thing when you come to the end of yourself.  You discover all these things about your-wonderful-self that you didn't know were there (or at least you were fooled into thinking they weren't).  I've always been a really determined and goal oriented person.  Maybe it's the Asian in me or just my addiction to that feeling of accomplishment.  It makes me feel valued.  It makes me feel important.  It makes me feel alive.  Trouble is, when you move overseas and life isn't as efficient, smooth or peachy as you'd like it to be, you unknowingly start to hold on, grab on, grasp tightly to those idols in your life.  Unfortunately for me, this looked like doing whatever I could to control my own circumstances.   It put a lot more pressure on "my own abilities" and left very little room for God or other people.  But the more I tried to control, the more I lost.  And the more I lost, the more angry I became.  And the more angry I became, the more judgmental I was.  And the more judgmental I was, the more depressed I felt.  And the more depressed I felt, the more hopelessness consumed me.

And at the end of my hopelessness, I discovered that really ugly something about myself.

I hated grace.

That's probably the last thing I thought God would reveal.  After all, Christians are supposed to loooooove grace.  Didn't I?  I was ready to work on my pride, self-reliance, impatience, anger issues... but grace?  Really?  The truth is though, a lot of those things are wrapped up in my lack of grace.  If you strip away the pride, the arrogance, the anger... the sin left is a graceless heart.  And the more things that God stirred up in my life, the more I realized my hatred towards it.  As someone who loved to "work hard for what she got" (And yes, I realize there are a lot of problems in that statement to begin with...), I was always discretely looking down on people who basked in grace.  It seemed like a cop-out.  An excuse.   

To me, grace seemed cheap.

And so, as we crawled and stumbled through this past year, God allowed a lot of heartache in our lives to teach us new depths of grace.  The hardest part was that the greatest storm was in our marriage.  Through an array of different circumstances, Steven and I found ourselves divided and at war with one another for way longer than I'd like to admit.  We cut each other with harsh words, left issues unresolved and redeveloped bad habits that we had worked hard to conquer.  There were nights where I questioned if God would ever redeem any of what we had lost.  It was hard.  So very, very hard.  Even now, my chest begins to ache and tears well up just thinking about it.  Where was God in all of this...?

To know grace is to know the depths of your sin.  And as Steven and I continually failed one another, we were both in this new place of needing  s o.  m u c h.  g r a c e.  All the time.  Every day, as the storm raged on, we felt the deep pain from our sin that only further revealed our utter need for grace.  It was here that I believe God began His redemptive work.  We had reached a level of vulnerability with one another and with God that we had never been before.  We were failing... in every sense of the word.  Failing to love each other.  Failing to give up control.  Failing to trust God.  Failing William.  And for the first time in a very long time, we felt the depths of our sin and our desperate need of a Savior. 

So we did the only thing we hadn't yet tried.  We asked for grace.  Grace to continue on.  Grace to forgive.  A grace that could save us from ourselves.  And as we slowly embraced this new place of humility (which did not come easy to either of us), we were met with a grace that didn't feel like a cop-out or an excuse at all.  This grace wasn't cheap.  It was rich, deep and full.

As a way to move beyond this past year and rebuild and reestablish ourselves again, we made this "ebenezer" for our home.  It's our way of being reminded of what God has done in our lives and our need to cling to His grace each and every day.  Before we hung it, Steven and I asked one another for forgiveness for the hurtful things said and done.  We spoke grace over one another and promised to extend it through the hard times yet to come.  And we thanked God for it.  Praising Him for sending the storm, and in the midst, pouring out grace like rain.

breaking the silence.

I haven't written a hesed in 6 months.  Well actually, I haven't really written since last October. 

So much has happened.

And to be honest, the "so much" has been quite ugly.  Okay, really ugly.  So ugly, in fact, that I couldn't bring myself to write about it for over a year.  Writing, one of the most life-giving parts of my life, was suddenly so draining.  My once cherished place to dig deep, connect with God and capture life-long lessons for my soul was actually the very last place I wanted to go.

It's been a really ugly year.

In retrospect, I probably should have written through the mess.  It would have been useful to see exactly where my heart was and to remember the true depths from which God has brought us.  But at the time, I just couldn't do it.  I was ashamed, exhausted and angry.  Really, really angry.

And at the end of the day, when I couldn't cry any more tears or fight one more battle, when I couldn't pray or even sing, I found myself completely numb.  I didn't want to process things.  I didn't want to connect with God.  And I sure as hell didn't care if God had any "life-long lessons for my soul". 

It's a dangerous thing when you stop caring.  You not only lose a sense of yourself, but you lose your love for life, people and, for me, God.  And the worst part about it is that you don't even care that you don't care.  Yeah... try talking your way out of that one.  Impossible.  It's a sick, twisted downward spiral to nowhere.

Like I said, it's been a really ugly year.

But today, I am breaking the silence. Maybe because I have just enough courage to write again.  Maybe because I'm stupid enough to expose myself in all my sin.  Or maybe because I want to claim back what I've lost.  The pain, the hurt, the sufferings of this past year.  They would all be for nothing if I didn't turn around and claim them for good.

So here's to breaking the silence, to claiming the beauty that's only found in the ugly.

my ebenezer

O God, how can I possibly recount all that has passed
for we have been to the depths of darkness
beaten down and striped bare
knocked off our feet and lost without hope

I never thought I could come to that place
never thought I would ever question Your love
But there I was, alone and afraid
isolated and angry, not wanting to call upon Your name

I came here with hopes and dreams
with a plan of my own to accomplish the task
But you took it all away from me
You called out my idols and my spirit you made low

You frustrated the vision and asked too much of me
shining light where I did not want to see
You exposed my sin that I had hidden so well
even my righteousness could not fix

Vulnerable and weak, I was in a new place
consumed with fears of failure and uncertainty
The more I strived, the more I lost
and your grace I soon despised

I cried out to you
"How long, O Lord?  How long will you keep me here?"
But silence was my only friend
and it threw me deeper into darkness still

No plan of mine could rescue me, no easy fix would come
So I fed my flesh and called it quits
your calling I no longer cared
my sacrifices too big to bear

What was once a unified vision with the love of my life
had suddenly become our deepest pain
Toil and strife consumed our marriage
and we were at war for days on end

Quickly lies crept into my heart
"He should have married someone stronger.
He should have married someone better."
And I became bitter for marrying such a determined man

We destroyed one another with our cutting words
and acted in ways that left deep wounds
We stood toe to toe in opposition
allowing division to take root within our souls

I remember it like yesterday
the pain is still so raw
I was holding William as I crumbled to the floor
"Where are you, God? We need you now. Our family is falling apart."

And in my desperate, painful cry to You
I wonder if that was more beautiful than all the other times I have praised Your name
if my misery was actually Your melody
if my ashes were really your treasure

Could my darkest hours have been your most treasured moments?
Could this time of hurt been your way of healing?
You saw me lose my way, yet did not condemn my faithlessness
In your gentle patience You waited

Your silence led me to a deeper place of You
With my filth exposed, You could wash me clean
Where sin increased, grace abounded all the more
The uglier my days, the more beautiful your redemption

Yet in our fallen world, the tension still remains
but when all we have is brokenness to offer you
it keeps us at the cross
and we find purpose in the pain

So praise be to the One who rises with healing in his wings
and who finds beauty in our messes
Praise be to the One who is bigger than our sin
and who pours out grace upon grace forevermore

Amen.