This Journey, This Road, This Home

If you follow me on Facebook, Instagram, or this blog, you’d hopefully agree that *most* of my posts about this last year of travel and deputation are shared in a positive light. I enjoy sharing the fun memories and amazing things we’ve seen and experienced while on the road. We’re making so many wonderful memories on this journey to Honduras.

I don’t do or say that to come across like we’re perfect missionaries, or I’m a perfect mom, or that we are just always so wonderful and positive as we travel along, serving the Lord in our own perfect way. Seriously.

 I guess it’s just my way of choosing joy in the hard things–documenting the blessings, so that we can look back and smile at the good instead of dwelling on the bad. Because, yes, it gets hard. And I don’t always keep a good attitude about it, either.

  I struggle with discontentment at times. That isn’t a cute little sin, you know? It seems harmless enough, but it can quickly slither into our hearts and wrap its ugly, sneaky self in a choke-hold around every part of us.

 God has been using this challenging road in our lives to teach me to be content. It can be a slow and painful process, I’m afraid.

 For several weeks, I had been struggling with being content in our “Little House on the Freeway”. (I confess that I don’t always refer to the camper in such cheerful terms.)

Sometimes, I feel like these tight quarters are going to suffocate me. Sometimes, I know that I can’t live in it one more day. Sometimes, I think it will become the slayer of my sanity.

There was a rainy Sunday that I sat on the perpetually muddy floor, frantically digging for church shoes in our laundry cupboard, because the shoes, which were supposed to be in the basket next to the laundry cupboard had fallen into the clothes as we bounced down the road. Now our shoes were all mixed up together with the mud and the damp that is a part of our every day and I was getting my dress dirty. I saw a dead stink bug next to me on the floor. Another one fell out of a shoe. And I got mad.

I cried and whined at God (and probably my husband) like a brat about these “awful” conditions I had to endure and how I wished we could just live normally like “everyone else” in the world. Nice, huh? Because everyone but me is perfectly happy in their perfect lives, right?

 So, God granted my wish and we were unexpectedly put up in a mission house for a week. I was thrilled. A whole house! With a real bathroom! Thank you, Lord, I can now be content!

 Well–the house had been closed up for awhile. It was so moldy that we got sick. The heat didn’t work and we about froze. The hot water heater only worked sometimes. The oven didn’t work and leaked gas. The toilet  didn’t flush. Faulty wiring almost electrocuted us. We had to set out mouse traps–and caught two mice.

I didn’t find any of this humorous at the time, but now I find it pretty funny. I have never been more happy to move back into this crazy camper–this crazy camper that God gave us, that has been an incredible blessing, that our children enjoy, that is sufficient for our needs, and that the Lord is using to get us to our deputation goal much faster than we could have imagined.

This crazy camper, and the road we’re pulling it on, is teaching me a lot as it shelters our family on this wearisome and awesome journey that we call Home.