the benders are a hot mess these days.
emotionally, physically, outwardly, inwardly, relationally and every other adverb (are those even adverbs? I don't even know anymore) that you can imagine.
I'm supposed to be updating Ricky's resume (super duper fun) right now, but I'm taking a break from finding ways to make my husband's ability to haul gas like a champion sound like a super power. (Like do you add the time he rescued a litter of kittens in a dumpster in LA to a resume? My guess was no.) Instead I'll tell the internet how we're straight up bonkers.
so here's the skinny:
after four wild, crazy, awesome, sometimes lonely, fun-filled years in Denver, we've decided to move to Austin, TX. We've picked a time where Ricky's at the best job he's ever had, with a schedule that we usually really like. A time when we totally love and can afford our house; a time when we have a church family that's every bit family, friends and super awesome fun.
STRAIGHT. UP. BONKERS.
Before you write me off as ridiculous and crazy, here's why:
for several years Ricky and I have wanted to get into the foster care system as foster parents. Before we had our own kids, we were praying for foster kids and really hoping that our life together would include either fostering or adopting. And then we had what felt like was a million kids all at the same time and life as we knew it got all sorts of crazy and uncomfortable.
But things are different these days and the foster care itch is alive and well for us.
So we're moving to Austin hoping to add more kids to our home, to make a long story… short?
(There's more to the story, but I gotta get back to that whole resume thing sometime, so for now I'll leave it at that.)
Here's the thing, though. Ricky doesn't have a job out there; we don't have a house, or a church. We don't know if we're going to adopt two kids or serve as foster parents to many, many kids. Some of these things we have no control over, but a couple biggies, we do. We're trying to walk that balance beam of faith and responsibility, but
We don't know.
And we've sort of purposed that this time, with this move, to not know.
(Ricky is about a hundred thousand million times better at this than me, because I want to know everything, everywhere, all the time, forever and ever.)
So we've been talking and praying about this idea of leaving room for God lately. Leaving room for Him to answer what we don't know, leaving room for Him to work a plan in our lives better than our own, leaving room for faith, leaving room for the Holy Spirit to speak, move and work on our behalf because we need our Heavenly Helper and Comforter.
And that was all super fun and ambitious and lofty to talk and pray about three or four months ago.
Now that we're about to put our sweet house on the market and make another crazy move with our four kids and massive dog into the great unknown….. the poo is hitting the fan.
And it's a hot mess.
Ricky shared this with me yesterday from My Utmost and it was so on the nose, I was singing Hallelujahs in the car while we went to Dominos because I think
we're I'm a stress eater:
"Do not look for God to come in any particular way, but look for Him. That is the way to make room for Him. Expect Him to come, but do not expect Him only in a certain way. However much we may know God, the great lesson to learn is that at any minute He may break in. We are apt to overlook this element of surprise, yet God never works in any other way. All of a sudden God meets the life, 'When it was the good pleasure of God….'
Keep your life so constant in its contact with God that His surprising power may break out on the right hand and on the left. Always be in a state of expectancy, and see that you leave room for God to come in as He likes.'"
Can I get an amen, and then a hearty "easier said than done"?
(At least for me.)
Because I know that the whole walking in faith thing is a Biblical principal, but I still want to look at MLS listings and find the perfect job for Ricky like ALL. THE. TIME. I want to be a pilgrim and a sojourner like Abraham (the OG pilgrim), but when I'm honest, only sort of and in the safest, least risky way possible.
Basically I wanna have my faith cake and eat it too.
So that's where we're at, friends.
And I liked this a whole bunch today, too:
"When we are at our wits' end for an answer, then the Holy Spirit can give us an answer. But how can He give us an answer when we are still well supplied with all sorts of answers of our own?"
Don't those kind of questions hurt so good?