Roar All You Want...

There are days when I feel like a ragdoll in Haiti's hands.  Violently shaken.  This country...its sights, its smells, its sadness, the complexities, the frustrations seem to wear on me, leaving me tired, dirty, and limp.

Restore me Oh God.  Desperately.  I need a tall, refreshing drink of you..of life...of the water you offered that woman at the well.

Unguarded, unprotected, it seems as though everything sacred is under threat of being ravaged and destroyed.  This country is broken.  Poverty is everywhere.  There are times when I look around at the devastation and it's almost as if I can hear that lion roar.  The enemy.  Prowling.  I wonder if I had eyes to see if I'd catch a glimpse of the shadowy lions, running in intimidating packs down the streets of Haiti, bent on killing, stealing, and destroying. Panting.  Growling.  The smell of dirt, blood, and death in their fur.

I can't get over how crumpled this place is, and yet how unsatisfied the enemy seems to be as he tightly holds this country in his grip. Will you ever be satisfied Satan?  Will your belly ever be full? He holds a large portion of this island nation in his bloody paws, and yet I feel him clawing at me personally.  When will enough be enough? How is your appetite for destruction this insatiable?

Here my faith has been plowed over, and it seems that the enemy is so close at times that our family can smell his fowl breath.  We're shaken by the loudness of his roar.  The enemy seems to be bent on devouring and destroying even the things that showed up relatively healthy in Haiti.

We feel this most in our marriage.

Many of you have recently pulled up a chair around our lives.  You've entered our story at the chapter entitled, "Haiti."  If you could rewind our life and play those early scenes, you'd find a marriage that almost didn't make it.  I was a witch (that's the PG version of the word I want to use) and Aaron was terrified of me. I had no idea how to be married.  Not one good idea.  There's no arguing it...apart from God intervening, this story would have ended badly.  Apart from God's grace, and the beauty of His Word, I could have never in a million years, with unlimited do overs, been able to figure out how to have what we have today.  Not a chance.

God's grace towards me makes me weep when I consider who I would have been apart from His sweet mercy in my life, and as I consider the home (or lack of one) that my children would be raised in today if it were not for the fact that God sent His Word to heal what was dying. I do not deserve this life, this family, or this grace.  Gifts.  Each of these things are gifts God has given to such a wretch as me.

I thought we were past the hard stuff in this home.  I thought it was long behind us.  We've been married for 14 years.  God has healed so many deep, difficult, shameful, painful areas in our relationship.  Then we come to Haiti and it feels like every way we've grown and healed is now having to be revisited and reviewed.

In the states, I struggled with keeping Aaron first.

A wife should put her husband first, as she does the Lord (Eph 5:22). 

That was difficult to do some days with people asking me to bake cookies, be involved in this activity, or that one, or hey...what about that one?  We lived in a college town so someone was always having a melt down, and usually that melt down ended up in our living room.  I had to constantly remind myself that Aaron was my first earthly ministry...that the first-fruits of me...of my time, my love, my energy, and my passion belonged to him.  I had to constantly remind myself that our marriage matters, and that I was to love Aaron as if I was loving Jesus.

God's Kingdom and His Word are so incredibly strange.  So remarkably different from the messages about marriage the world was consistently barking my direction.  When I get to heaven, I will be that annoying person who takes up a lot of God's time asking Him to explain a long list of things to me.  Don't get in line behind me.  You will regret it.

God has given us this marriage as a strong, visual tool to share the gospel.  Marriage matters because the gospel matters.  People should see the gospel story in the way that Aaron and I love one another, treat each other, serve one another, and honor each other.  I learned the hard way about putting too many things on my plate that left me unavailable to Aaron and certainly too tired and too overworked to love him in the ways that truly mattered to him.

These things were already a struggle for me in the United States. I was always tempted to take on too much.  I was tempted to pridefully declare that other things mattered more than what God had already declared mattered most...my husband.  All those things were "good things."  I'm finding that "Good things" seem to be the enemy of a lot of Kingdom things.  Some times those "good things" were four little boys who lived under my roof.

Imagine coming to Haiti and now...instead of people asking me to bake cookies, I'm asked to go help a mom down the road, or guess what...if I don't...a baby could die today.

In the states, if I put Aaron first instead of someone else, that might mean there was one less person on a ministry team at my church or one less giggly female at girls night out.

Here, if I put Aaron and my home first, that might mean someone dies.

It's tempting to throw out what I know, to throw Aaron aside, to throw my family aside when there is this much need and this much life-altering work that needs to be done on a daily basis.  Desperation and urgent needs seem to camp out on every corner of this country.  They call your name.  Over and over they call your name.

And yet God is sweetly reminding me that what Haiti needs more than anything is the gospel.  Not simply words, or a gospel tract.  I'm so grateful that God did not look at the condition of mankind and throw down words from heaven.  This country needs the Word that became flesh.  The truth of the gospel lived out in real life.  Every day life.  The gospel that touches you, laughs with you, and weeps with you.  That gospel is the only thing that will heal this country.   It is the only thing that will redeem all that has fallen and broken.  It's the only thing that will silence the roar of the lion.

How merciful of the Lord to sit with me the past few weeks and gently reteach me that this country does not need me.  It needs Jesus.  What a comfort.

The God who has created this Earth, who came to this place, who was Emmanuel, God with us has given us earthy, tangible, hold it in your hands, tools to share the gospel in this country.  My marriage is one of those tools.  Our home, and the way we love, cherish, discipline, and disciple our kids is another one of those secret weapons.  Although I don't fully understand it, scripture teaches that there is something mysterious, powerful, and holy about our marriage.  Somehow the mystery of God and the church is wrapped up in this beautiful, and oftentimes awkward dance Aaron and I have been doing for the past 14 years. God ordained this union. His hands designed it.  He rescued it and redeemed it.  It is His and that makes it humbling to think about how much value He places on this home pointing people towards the gospel.

It's good to know that in a country where I quickly come to the end of myself, that God has given us an organic, sustainable, picture of the gospel through the way Aaron and I love one another and parent our kids.  This home in all its unpredictability, insanity, and craziness is something God wants to use as a flannel board lesson about His nature, His character, His grace, and His love. An earthly picture.  A living, breathing gospel exhibit.

We would be doing the Haitian people a huge disservice if we let our home fall apart while claiming to be here joining with God in redeeming this country for His glory.  I know all these things, but can I still admit that it's hard here?  It's tempting, every single day to dive into issues and new challenges that would cause chaos and neglect to occur in this home and in our marriage?  Aaron and I have had to stand firm...on guard...asking God for grace, and for Him to remind us over and over again that this home matters because the gospel matters and the gospel is Haiti's greatest need.   The gospel is our children's greatest need.  God wants to use our marriage to teach our sons every day about who He is.

All of these things have been sitting heavy on my heart for the past few weeks.  Aaron and I are fine.  By God's grace, we're fine.  We've just admitted lately that we've made some silly mistakes and we've needed to be graciously reminded by the Lord to value the gospel by valuing our marriage.  I've needed to be reminded that God can and will help me to keep Aaron first, even in a country surrounded by so much sadness and need. 

Do I want my kids to know about the nature and character of God?  For some reason, God desires to use our marriage to teach our children these deep down messages and truths.  He wants their little eyes to watch the gospel lived out through our husband/wife relationship..for them to hear and see the beauty of the gospel story on rerun every day as they watch Aaron and I love one another, enjoy one another, forgive each other, and hold firm to one another.

Do I want the Haitian people that we're around every single day to know God's love, His grace, and His forgiveness?   I do, and I'm begging God to keep us humble...to help us admit our tendency to put our money on our own efforts, our own plans, our own skill sets instead of putting all our eggs in the gospel basket.  Please Jesus, let others see you...your love, your mercy, your grace, how intimately you care for us when they see the way Aaron and I love each other and love our children. Please help me guard the gospel and humbly look for areas where we may be teaching something false about your nature when we sinfully neglect our marriage and our home.

The lion is loud.

There are days when it feels like he is sitting on our porch.  There are days when I swear I can smell him in my kitchen.  Roaring.  Prowling.  Ready to pounce, to maim...to kill...to destroy.  So I find myself asking God for grace...for faith...to believe that the gospel is all that matters, and so in some complex, ancient way our marriage matters.  Even if babies die in Haiti.  Even if someone near me goes hungry tonight.  God values this home and wants to use it to share the gospel story.

Jesus, cement that truth in my soul, oh please...will you do that?

Will you turn that truth up loudly...blast it...fill it with a funky, raw, catchy beat so that the truth is what I hear and what I know as we decide how to live in this country, how to make decisions, how to love and how to serve?