Look into your heart...

well, actually, today I'll let you look inside mine.  I'm needing catharsis, of some kind, somehow.  I'm hoping that maybe writing again will let that happen.  I have a surprising ability to not talk.  Some of you who know me well might say, yeah right!  But the truth is that the more I have going on inside, the quieter I get.  And it's not that I don't have close people, who I trust, who I know would listen in a heartbeat.  I.  just. can't.  It's like I turn mute.

Jeremy is always as close as my own heart.  He is the one person I manage to talk to no matter what.  He'll listen as I pour out all of my feelings and everything that's banging around inside my head - stream-of-consciousness style.  I'm so grateful for that.  The crazy thing is though, that it is often like talking to a mirror, especially lately.  We feel mostly the same way.  So tired, sometimes angry, stressed, straining towards hope, fighting all of the fears that weigh a human being down - how will we do it?  how will we provide for our family?  what happens if this crashes around us?  and why God...?
 
wow this has been a long road.  The particular road I'm referring to at the moment is planting realHope.  I look back down that road - and it almost reminds me of a country dirt road.  I think of when we started.  Almost like Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer, with, in some ways, little more than our little nap sacks on our backs.  We set out on an adventure we couldn't ignore.  Status quo just wasn't going to work for us anymore.  Something down that road was calling us.  I still remember exactly what that something was.  It was the hope that the church really could be the hands and feet of Jesus in Fuquay.  That this hope that we hold in our hearts.  This love that binds the most unlikely people together.  This faith that heals the deepest brokenness.  This God, this Jesus, this one Spirit is worth our everything.  It's either who we are or not.  Vocational Ministry is surely a horrible choice for a career.  Yes, that's what I said.  It will never pay enough in worldly terms to warrant the amount of pain and sacrifice required.  It must be an inseparable way of being.  A passion that is as impossible to ignore as breathing.  Otherwise, it's pointless.  Who wants to play at church?  I can't imagine stomaching that.  If you don't believe enough to let it consume all of you- or to at least give God that opportunity over time - then why do it? 

I guess that's why we can't quit.  Sure we've thought about it loads of times down the road.  More recently than ever.  Our feet are blistered, our legs are weary, and our hearts are sore.  But every time we've had The Conversation, I've told Jeremy, "If we don't do this, if we walk away, it will not be to just go do some other ministry.  We'll run away and live on the beach like bums."  I know that seems silly and extreme, but I guess I've always been an all or nothing sort of person.  I can't fake it - not really.  That's how much I believe in what God has called us to.  Either we believe He wanted realHope in this community or not.  Either we believe that He can change lives or not.  There is no cut and run.  If we decide to turn our back on what God has called us to - we might as well just go and live blissfully hedonistic lives that require no sacrifice and as little discomfort as possible.  hmmmm.  Tempting, but still no.

It's this passion that drives us to protect realHope as fiercely as a tiger would protect her cubs.  It's worth too much - the stakes are too high.  It requires more than just being nice to one another.  Comfortable and swaying with every whim.  It requires being good to one another.  Choosing the good, or striving for the better, even when we don't want to, and even saying no when needed.

So yeah, this road's been long - and narrow - and bumpy.  Starting out we were amazed at the people who supported us and surprised by the people who didn't.  People have a funny way of surprising you one way or another.  Along the way we have met some extraordinary people.  The blood people.  The kind who are with you through thick and thin.  The kind who have your back and will stand up with you, even when fair weather has long gone.  But what can I say? People are people.  Human.  There are some who we've loved and lost one way or another.  I told a younger someone recently that this wasn't our first time through sad people situations.  I said that it got easier, in the sense that you're never quite as shocked as you were the very first time.  But the truth is, it's never easy.  Hurt is hurt no matter when.  It's hard to feel the sharp pain, anger and confusion that a broken relationship leaves in it's wake.  And then to decide to risk it all again in relationships - knowing full well what might happen.  I suppose that's where true love and hope comes in.  True hope doesn't die.

Welp, it's been therapeutic for me.  Maybe it will give your eyes a tiny escape from work ;)  Thank you blood people - you know who you are.  You have a beautiful way of making the long hard road worth while.