When the Plow Breaks

Things break. It’s simply a part of life. People have made millions….heck, maybe billions…on selling warranties for items you purchase because of the known fact that sometimes, things break before they’re supposed to. We’ve all dealt with the dreaded busted hot water heater that floods the basement, the AC going out, or a lawn mower that won’t start. I know we’ve dealt with all of the above and then some. I’ve even witnessed my dear sweet husband throw a brand new weed-eater clean across the back yard because it wouldn’t start. 

Man, life would be really awesome if all of our gadgets and machines functioned perfectly 100% of the time. Unfortunately, that is not the case. No matter how well you take care of something, it will eventually wear out….much like these ol’ bodies of ours. I’m only 26, and I am convinced that 26 is the year your body begins to turn on you. I won’t go into detail, but after two kids and a lifetime worth of stress packed into the past 5 months, my body hates me. Living in survival mode is exhausting. Spiritually rewarding….but physically exhausting. As the old saying goes, I’ll rest when I’m dead. 

We are still adjusting to this “missionary life”. As I’ve said before….there’s no “how-to” book for this type of lifestyle. We are in uncharted territory. Some days, it’s everything we dreamed of. Other days, we’d love to pack up and move out. I wish I could really explain the emotions that come with learning a new language and culture. It’s a wonderful, awful, exciting, and terrifying roller coaster. But we choose to climb aboard that roller coaster every day and take every turn, curve, and loop-da-loop in stride. 

Most of you may be familiar with Luke chapter 9 and verses 57-62. Jesus shares about the cost of discipleship. Quite frankly, his words here are hard to digest. There were men expressing their desire to follow Him, only they had business at home they needed to take care of first. One man says he needs to go bury his dead father first, to which Jesus replies, “Let the dead bury their own dead, but you go and preach the kingdom of God!”. OUCH! Can you imagine the shock on this dude’s face? After that, another man chimes in with, “Lord, I’ll follow you, but first let me bid farewell to those in my house.” In my mind, I’m thinking….If he didn’t let that other guy bury his own dad, he’s definitely not letting this guy off easy. And sure enough, Jesus says, “No one, having put his hand to the plow, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God.”  Wow. Now let that sink in. No, really. Let it sink in. I’ll give you a minute.

We all know how Jesus ministered. He never pulled any punches. He was real and to the point. There was never any sugar coating. Jesus was straight up honest one hundred percent of the time. Oh to be a fly on the wall during that time. I would have loved to have seen the faces of these two men when Jesus said what he said. Talk about a perfect moment to drop the mic. Evidently, they chose to follow Him because they were appointed as part of the seventy men that were sent out starting in Luke chapter 10. I’m glad to know they did the right thing. 

Following Christ should not be an easy task. When you decide to answer a calling on your life, it should not be a cake-walk. You’re going to make up your mind to put your hand to the plow. You will feel excitement. You will feel the empowerment of the Spirit. You will feel a strong passion to plow the land in front of you in order to reap a harvest of souls for the Kingdom of God. You will feel strong and encouraged. And then….the plow breaks. You were plugging along so well and it just broke. Wait a minute. This isn’t supposed to happen. God put you on this journey. Why would he let something go wrong? Why would he send you out with faulty equipment? You are in unfamiliar territory. How will you get this fixed? You want to turn back and run to what is familiar. Unfortunately, running would make you “unfit for the Kingdom of God”. Don’t get mad at me. Those aren’t my words. Those words are in red. 

It’s so uncomfortable and frustrating when something breaks. It’s down right inconvenient. If I had a dollar for every inconvenience we’ve experienced in this journey, we would never have to ask anyone for another red cent! The plow literally breaking has happened about three times so far. The first day Steven went out into the field to finally work with the tractor and plow up some land for a poor pastor in the territory, a disc on his plow broke clean off. It was discouraging. It was just another thing to add to our list of broken things we’ve dealt with. We’ve had a broken fridge, washing machine, dresser, bed, shower head, laptop, kitchen chair, and the one spatula I have broke clean in half one day. (I still use it.) Let’s just say, if something doesn’t break….we’re surprised. In those moments, “woe is me” begins to set in. We begin to think about how easy life used to be. For me, I begin to think about how I used to be able to jump into my little SUV and drive to the store for groceries. Now, if there’s not someone to give us a ride, Steven has to walk a very long way in the hot sun to get to the store. Sometimes in those moments, we begin to turn our heads to get a glimpse of our old lives. We lose focus and we forget there’s still land left to plow. Our hands begin to loosen their grip on the handles of the plow and our necks begin to turn. The plow is broken. What’s the use? In that moment, God whispers, “My Kingdom.” And that’s all it takes. We shake ourselves and do what it takes to repair the plow to continue the work. Whenever the plow breaks, there’s always an important lesson to be learned. He teaches us. He strengthens us. And above all of that, he humbles us. He breathes new life into our spirits to keep pressing forward in the field.

For us, this calling was never an option. It wasn’t a decision of “hey, let’s go live in Honduras. That sounds fun”. It was an appointed mission with our names on it. We could have chosen not to accept it, but oh the misery that would have followed. We could have chosen to hesitate and give excuses as to why the timing wasn’t right. That would have been disobedience and He would have used someone else in our place. He called. We answered. That’s how it works. We have made many mistakes in this journey and are sure to make many more, but I pray our outcome is like the seventy that were sent out in Luke chapter 10! When they returned, they returned with JOY and AUTHORITY, and their names were written in heaven. I know more things will probably break…(Steven’s plow is actually at the shop being repaired as I type this.) but God is working a plan and He knows how that plan needs to be executed. If that means something has to break in order to teach a lesson, so be it. I’m glad my hope is not in the material things of this world. My hope is in Christ Jesus. And He’s guaranteed to function for all of eternity. Even Sears can’t offer a deal that good.

Daily Bread

The past four months have been quite a journey for our family. At this point, I could write a 300-page book. Maybe I will one day, but a blog post will have to do for now. Let me just put it this way: There's not a "how to" manual when it comes to living on the mission field and there's especially not a manual on how to raise kids on the mission field. Maybe that's the book I need to start writing. Needless to say, we've dealt with our fair share of language barriers, culture shock, unexpected expenses, and more than our fair share of things not going according to plan. We've been hit with a lot, but yet, here we are. That's the beauty of God's calling. You can be hit a thousand times, but yet there's a passion-driven purpose so deep within you that you refuse to give in. 

We've been attacked mentally, spiritually, emotionally, and financially. If it would have been up to us, we would have left. Everything was being challenged. Our marriage felt cold because we were too exhausted to invest in it. Our patience was short with our children because stress consumed us. 

We doubted. 

We questioned. 

We looked at each other and wondered if we had just made the dumbest decision of our lives. We would be surrounded by people, but feel so alone. We knew people loved us here and at home, but no one knew what we were feeling. That overwhelming feeling of loneliness can be dangerous. As believers, we are promised a life where we know our Heavenly Father will never leave us nor forsake us. Deep down we knew that, but the enemy was fighting and we could not escape our flesh to trust in the truth of God's Word. Again, it's a dangerous place to be. I remember having a conversation with my mom where my voice had no life and no matter how much encouragement she spoke, my spirit could not receive it. I felt trapped in the reality of our situation and didn't have the strength to see beyond it. I couldn't see how God was teaching us...how he was molding us. I lived like a zombie. I went through the motions and began to tell myself that if I could just be numb to everything, then nothing could hurt me. I would have moments of happiness, but when a new day would start, it hit me all over again. At the time, I called it depression, but on the other side of it, I realize I was in the midst of spiritual warfare. I was being zapped of everything so I would't have the energy to fight back. I would look in the mirror and would not recognize the shell of a person I saw in the reflection. Who was she? She was not the strong woman that everyone kept telling her she was. She was worthless. She was a failure. 

In a pile of self pity, I began to shake my head and say, "wait a minute." Before we left, God had been teaching me about the authority I have in Him over any and every situation. I had learned that if the enemy can make you forget that you possess authority through Christ Jesus, then he can cause you to think yourself into a dark hole of misery. I felt like I had been in a trance and I was beginning to snap out of it as God flooded my memory with what He had been teaching me prior to our move. Like a flood, tears ran down my face and I grabbed my Bible that hadn't been touched in weeks. I opened it and my eyes immediately fell on James 4:11... "Indeed we count them blessed who endure. You have heard of the perseverance of Job and seen the end intended by the Lord - that the Lord is very compassionate and merciful." I lost it. I ugly cried like nobody's business. That very day, Steven and I had a conversation about Job. We could in no way compare our struggles with his, but we identified with the feeling of things being taken from us left and right. We were thankful that we still had each other and our children, but we felt like we were being bullied all because we stepped out into what we felt God was calling us to do. God led me to that very passage to remind me to consider the story of Job again, but in a different light. He beckoned me to look at the story and see a man of perseverance. A man who, with all odds stacked against him, pressed onward. And he didn't just press onward...he did it with praise on his lips. The second part that got me was that the end of his story was just as God INTENDED. God spoke to my spirit very clearly in that moment and reminded me that I must let go of my ideas of how everything should play out and trust that the ending of our story will play out just as He intends. He then asked me, "Do you trust me?" In a blubbering mess on the floor, I declared, "Yes. I trust you." Immediately, the darkness that had engulfed me for weeks fled. I stood up and began to declare the word of the Lord over our household. I began to speak to the devil like he was an unwelcome house guest. I made him get out. Joy flooded my soul and I was ready to press forward. 

A few days later, I felt like calling my Daddy. He's always a wealth of wisdom and I needed to hear from him. We had a wonderful conversation. He shared with me how mom had wanted him to call me after my conversation with her because she was worried. He told her he would call me when God moved on him to do so. In the meantime, he prayed. As he prayed, God dropped a word in his spirit the very same night I had my breakthrough. The scripture that came to him was, you guessed it, James 4:11. He used it in a message the following Wednesday at church. By the time I called him on Friday and shared everything with him, it was clear that God was keeping him from calling me so I could learn to lean on God for myself and not depend on my dad's advice. He spoke to me in love, reminding me that I was not a failure, and told me that he didn't raise a quitter. I laughed and agreed that I would not be a quitter. Before we hung up, he told me to pray the Lord's Prayer every day and really think about what each part of it means. He shared that the words, "give us this day our daily bread" is a calling to live by faith. The prayer doesn't ask God to provide for us for a month or even for a week, but just for that day. We must trust that He will give us that daily bread to sustain us both physically and spiritually. We just have to ask. Tears filled my eyes as I thought about moments when I wasn't sure what we would eat and my neighbor came unexpectedly knocking on our door with a plate of food in her hands. That was our daily bread. (Or I should say daily tortilla...) I hung up the phone strengthened and encouraged. 

By the end of that week, our stuff was in route from the port to our house. After it was over, we were given a wonderfully refreshing trip home to the states for a few days. The ending of this very difficult time came just as God INTENDED. There will be more challenging times ahead, but God is equipping us. That's the beauty of a life sold out to Him.