Today

I rocked my little boys in my rocking chair for the first time in ten months. We ate with our own silverware, on my beloved brown butcher paper plates. It's good to be back in our own place again and hang our pictures and curtains.

Also, today, my firstborn created his own "mosquito repellent" by starting "smoke" behind the tool shed, using the lighter I had just purchased to start my gas oven. He was so proud of himself. I have since hid the lighter. :)

Weighting

This is not one of the happy post cute pictures of the boys posts. So if you’re having a bad day, then maybe skip this one for later. 

It’s been raining all day here. I love the rain and the cool weather it brings, but my mind has been on Brant out traipsing through the jungle and wondering if he was all wet and miserable. 

Tonight we wives waited for the phone call from the men to let us know their location and that all were safe and sound... and perhaps holed up in a hut and warm and dry. 

We waited all night for a call that never came.

As it was sinking in that I would go to bed without knowing if my husband was safe, I got an email from our pastor’s wife in Texas with this verse...

“You can throw the whole weight of your anxieties upon Him, for you are His personal concern.” - 1 Peter 5:7 (Phillips)

Weighted is a good term to describe this week - Monday and Tuesday were fine and dandy as our teammates were still here and I had someone to help slather bug spray and sunscreen on the kids and cut their meat at dinner time. I had someone to talk with in the evenings and besides that, I could call or text Brant when I needed. 

Wednesday our teammates flew back to America and Brant flew into the tribe. And I have no one to share the weight of each day with... which, with emails from our property manager about costly repairs needed done to our house in Texas and meetings with our area leadership about our future ministry and car repairs and cell phone repairs and two sick boys.... (all of this since yesterday morning!) has suddenly seemed a little bit more weight on my two shoulders than I can bear. 

So as a good missionary I pray and turn things over to the Lord and go peacefully through the day leading my children in prayers for safety for their Daddy.

(That was supposed to be the comic relief inserted into this depressing story.) :)

What really happened is that I am tense and snapping at the boys and Elijah’s very defiant and struggling with Brant being gone and I try to pray with the boys and then start crying when I get to the “Please keep Daddy safe” part. 

I do feel weighted down and I am about to break under the pressure of making decisions and handling the boys on my own. I do feel like my life is in holding pattern til Brant gets back and we can resume “normal” life. 

But I do feel God has called us to this. He has called Brant to hike in this unknown jungle to reach this unknown people whom He created and died for. He has called me to this time of waiting for a phone call, trusting Him when it happens and trusting Him when it’s delayed. He has called the boys to learn to trust Him (and obey me!) without their daddy around. 

And He gives grace to bear the weight of the uncertainty that He has put in front of us all. For really, I am not carrying this weight because I have no one to share it with - I am carrying it because I am not “throwing it on the Lord.” Knowing His shoulders are stronger than mine is a huge comfort to me tonight. Knowing His eyes are on Brant, somewhere in the dark jungle; and me, sitting here waiting; and the boys, coughing in the next room... huge comfort tonight.

This story does have a happy ending... our leadership guy just called and the men checked in with him about twenty minutes ago... they were unable to get through on the SAT phone to any of the wives. They’re in a village, in little hut around a fire, tired after a day of hiking, but doing well and safe for the night. 

I am thankful to have that weight off my shoulders.