Plants, flowers, trees, gratitude and ramblings with a sprinkling of dust

J– made a garden here. We’ve lived in three countries over the last year and in each he has created green space that is lovely. He knows the best nurseries in each country we’ve lived in, and is on a first name basis with most of the forestry or nursery (depending on location) staff. I have to confess at first it bothered me, sinking money into something that would eventually die, when we were leaving in just a few months, or in temporary housing, or… but he has changed my mind.

There is something to cultivating beauty wherever life finds you, in the expected moments, in the unexpected moments. There is something to leaving a location more beautiful then when you arrived, to enjoy the beauty and pass it on to another to enjoy (or destroy) but in the least to live with or next to for a time.

This blog has been pretty silent lately, there was the international move, the resettling, adjusting to life in school (for J–), some health challenges (me), some grieving and processing over current events in South Sudan…lots of reasons why I haven’t typed but the biggest reason isn’t the obvious (it rarely is). I haven’t been able to put into words this season. I still can’t.

This season has been so hard on so many levels, harder then I thought possible, and more joyful all at once and then overwhelmingly difficult again. We thought we were doing good about being stripped from what didn’t matter, of focusing on what did, creating eternal beauty as we leaned into God’s grace…but folks we, I have so much further to go.

We are sitting here on the fifth floor in a big city, the lights are bright outside the window, shouts are drifting up to our balcony, I am writing, J— is studying and we are drinking tea. He puts his pen down and we talk about the future, we get overwhelmed, we back down on planning anything and we just sit and look at the lighting store across the street illuminated by various chandeliers and two men sitting there manning the counter and people watching.

Last year we knew what we were about, loving God, and loving the Southern Sudanese by providing clean water and biblical discipleship. This year we are about less, we are about knowing God. We are struggling to lean into this journey this beautiful journey that life is truly about without grappling for more, for the job description we longed for, for the country we longed to live in, for the people we wish we were near, for the illusion of stability and predictablity. We are praying for transformation to be more like our Savior, and through the difficult work of being transformed that others will know God more too, here, where you are reading this, in South Sudan. We are about much less then we were last year, but really about so much more. This morning I read from Hebrews 12

           Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, ² fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. ³ Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.

    I am not sure why but this is the race that God has marked out for us, we run surrounded by so many that have run before us, by you who have upheld us in ways words cannot fully articulate and our role in this race is to fix our eyes on Jesus and allow him to perfect our faith… even if it means it is perfected through war, stripping of security, job description, family and dear friends.

We are sitting amidst the beautiful garden J– created. A pretty tree, red flowers, and plants. Dust swirls around us and settles on us as I write and he studies. We are held up by prayers, letters, encouraging words, and more prayer from you in ways we cannot fully know, and often don’t have the words to express and we are sitting here on this balcony doing the same thing we did last year at this time, and two years ago in a different country. We are in the process of transformation so we can live lives of worship. Lord use our transformation to create beauty wherever life finds us.

J– asked me if I would have come if we had known what the last year and half would hold. I told him no. He agreed he wouldn’t have come either. I asked him if he would trade his experiences … this process of transformation he was quiet. I told him I wouldn’t have traded it for anything. We sat for a bit in silent gratitude that the future is veiled from sight so we can become more like the one who created us.

The dust chokes out the moon and we move indoors. The curtains stay pulled back so we can look at the beauty that J– created on our porch.

———————————-

An important note:

This is my feeble attempt to articulate a season in my life that cannot be articulated. It is also my attempt to whisper deep gratitude for you. Each email, phone call, package, and note of encouragement in this season I have held closely to my heart. I often have been void of words to respond well but my lack of words is not an indication of lack of impact. God has used your words to draw me to himself in ways you will never know. Thank you. For praying, for sending scripture, for praying some more and partnering with us in ministry. Friends we are so blessed to serve the Lord alongside you – we have seen God work in powerful ways in our lives, and the lives of those around us, in the lives of our children. We are here physically and spiritually because of how God is using you – thank you. One of the greatest joys about pressing into the will of God for our future is knowing we do so with you. With gratitude from the bottom of my heart thank you for making our journey so beautiful -Abuk