Great is His Faithfulness

It's been a year since we left Mission Hills (MHC).  How our lives have changed in such a short time!  In many ways, MHC seems like barely a memory to me already.  There is so much that has been forgotten in this year.  Our lives have been filled with a new job, a new church, new people AND most importantly, a new family member.  It's been a lot of change.  We are so grateful for it.  I believe that God has used a lot of that change to dull our memories and heal our past.  (Although it's so ironic that as I sit in a local coffee shop writing this, I have to mention that I have seen no less than 5 MHC people from the "past" that I am totally reminded that it's the people from MHC that keep the memory alive.)

Last month, I had the privilege (?) of returning to MHC for a girl's conference called Adored.  Seeing as how it has been a year, and our lives have changed so much, I didn't think much of it.  A friend of mine put the conference together all on her own (shout out to ya, Rebekah), and I was so excited to support her and bring some of our Grace girls to the event.  It sounded like so much fun to me that I couldn't bear to miss out.

Driving into the parking lot, I was quickly confronted with the fact that not only would I be seeing a lot of our former students (yay!), but their parents, as well.  Including many former co-pastor's-wives.  A little more daunting.  I quickly realized I needed to put on my game face and smile and nod.  Smile and nod.  I'd get through it.  The fun was coming soon.  Let's get through this little hurdle and enjoy the weekend.

The first session started shortly after check-in.  As all Christian conferences go- music first.  Worship.  In the worship center.  Lights down, band on stage.  Ever been in a place where all of your senses are FLOODED by memories and take you back in less than a heartbeat?  Where you're in multiple moments, simultaneously experiencing the present and the past?  Where a song, a scent, a simple sight put you in another place entirely?

THAT was that moment for me.  And I learned SO many things in that moment.  The band was singing "Great is Your Faithfulness."  I think it took about two seconds for the waterworks.  I bawled.  To the point that I left the room to gain some control.  I couldn't help but flashback through the course of the last year.  There were SO many memories contained in that room.  Sunday morning worship.  More sermons than I can count.  More people and faces than I can count.  Tim being introduced as the new high school pastor.  Sophia's dedication.  Noah's dedication.  Tim baptizing lots of high schoolers.  Serving as a wedding coordinator for the church.  Tim being "thanked" for his service as high school pastor on our last Sunday there.

But more than those moments, countless hours pouring out my soul in worship.  And those were the memories that came back in that moment.  Time after time of lifting my hands to the Lord in surrender.  Wondering what on earth He was doing in our lives and where on earth He was leading us.  Many a tear, many a question, many a moment of saying, "Now what, Lord?"

And then coming full circle back to the present moment of praising the Lord, for "Great is [His] Faithfulness."  I had known that all through the previous year, and I had clung desperately to the fact that He was leading us through all of this to bring us to a better place.  That knowledge was my saving grace through our last year at MHC.  But here I was, on the other side, thanking God for bringing us through it all, and being faithful every step of the way.  I spent a year knowing this in my head, but now I was feeling it in my heart.

I was not expecting that moment to be so hard.  It totally caught me off guard.  But I am thankful for it.  I am thankful for the reminder to continue to praise God for His faithfulness through every part of the last year.  And also thankful for the reminder to continue to pray for healing.  I do feel like I am in a very healthy place after all we have been through, but the emotion that overtook me in that evening warned me that there is an ever-present enemy that would have me hold on to some of that pain.  Each tear that fell screamed to give it to the Lord and let go, to continue to pray for peace and wholeness.  Last year at this time, I wrote about how leaving MHC was like losing a limb (here's the link for that ever so elegant post).  And a year later, that limb has been miraculously, mostly regenerated.  But I'm not all the way there yet, and so I continue to ask the Lord to keep growing it until I am complete once again.  After all, Great is His Faithfulness!  

"You don't need to be afraid. God is with us!"

It doesn't sound nearly as sweet in a title, but if you could have heard Sophia wandering all through the house yesterday, telling everyone in sight the same words, I'm absolutely sure it would have made you smile.

"Mom, we don't need to be afraid.  God is with us."

"Noah, you don't need to be afraid.  God is with us.  He's everywhere."

"Phoebe, it's ok.  You don't need to be afraid; God is with us."  (Never mind that Phoebe's crying had more to do with wanting to sleep than anything else.)

What brought on her non-stop reminders?  Thunder.  It was a beautiful, perfect, mid-day mountain thunderstorm.  We've had several already this spring, and the only thing different about this one was that it happened right at lunch time, when we were all awake and attentive, rather than cowering in bed with every thunder-induced tremble.

We had actually walked over to preschool to pick Sophia up at the end of her day.  The first crash came just around the corner from home.  The first sprinkles began to fall just as we rolled the stroller into the garage.  We fled to the safety of the house, as Sophia began her repetitions and Noah eventually took his hands off his ears.  I opened up the front door and brought the kids to the screen door to watch the magic.
The conversation went something like this:

Me:  "Who makes the thunder?"
Kids:  "GOD!"
Me:  "What's something we make?"
Sophia:  "Macaroni and cheese."
Me:  "Are we afraid of macaroni and cheese?"
Sophia:  "NO!  That'd be so silly!"
Me:  "Well, I'm sure God's not afraid of the thunder because He made it.  And so I don't think we need to be afraid either."

Now, I just need to keep reminding myself of the same thing!  With all the crazy things that have been happening around us lately, I've caught glimpses of a spirit of fear beginning to take hold of me.  That's not a feeling I am accustomed to.  It's new to me, and I am quite certain I can do without it.  I've been praying that very thing lately.  And maybe, if I just keep repeating it often enough, like Sophia, it won't be long before I begin to feel it in the same way that she did in the midst of the thunderstorm!

Learning to Ride

We went for a family walk tonight.  Let me tell you how family walks have changed over the years.  Tim and I used to walk for miles along the Highline Canal Trail just behind our house.  In fact, we did that for years, and it didn't change until Sophia was born.  While I was in labor with Sophia, we walked for miles along that trail.  And then she was born and she joined us on those walks.  We'd put her in the stroller and away we'd go.  Then we moved, Noah was born, we purchased a double stroller, and it still didn't change that much.  We might have shortened our distances just slightly.  Then Phoebe joined us, and our walks began to change.  Not so much because of Phoebe.  I wrap her up in the Moby wrap, and she's good to go for hours.  But more because of the two preschoolers we tow along with us.  Sophia and Noah are not as content to sit in the stroller for miles anymore.  In fact, this marks the first season that Sophia has taken to riding her bike along with us rather than riding in the stroller.  The problems with this are numerous.
1) Her little legs don't last as long as ours.  2) She's still learning to ride (even with the training wheels on) and her bike isn't that great, it has more than a slight lean to the right, and she's fairly slow.  3.) She is easily distracted by ALL things around us.  4.) She frequently spends more time looking at her feet pushing the pedals around than at the path in front of her.  How often do we tell her to look up so that she doesn't crash?  If it weren't for Tim or I reminding her to watch where she's going, she would most definitely ride her bike straight into whatever tree or obstacle should happen to jump in her path.

Tonight, as I walked along behind her, watching her head turn down to watch her feet pedal, I couldn't miss the analogy.  Watching her learn to ride first made me think of Peter stepping out of the boat towards Jesus.  And then I couldn't help continue on and personalize the analogy.  It reminded me so much of myself learning how to navigate this journey we call life.  How often am I so busy concentrating on what I am doing with my life that I take my eyes off of my Heavenly Father in front of me?  I get so absorbed in what I'm doing that I forget to keep my eyes on the Lord and what HE wants me to do.

I love how God can use even the every day moments of life to be such screaming reminders to not be distracted by the world around us and to take our eyes off ourselves and stay focused on what He has planned for us.  And I'm humbled to remember that even after all these years, I am still just learning to ride!

A Pause in the Day

Once upon a time, I considered myself a writer. Not a great writer, mind you, but one of the millions that would have categorized myself as an "aspiring writer." But then life happened. I fell in love and was distracted by a boy. That boy needed someone to put him through school, so I became very distracted by a job that surprisingly became my next love. When it became the boys turn to work, I became distracted by yet a new love- kids - of my own.

And now, after years of distractions, I find myself in a place where I need to spend some time doing some things just because I enjoy them. So I'm returning to writing. Let's see how long it takes me to return to form! I had forgotten how hard it is to sit down and write, even when you are not particularly finding yourself inspired.

So the first question is, "What should I write about?" And although I can't seem to think of anything extremely profound, I keep coming back to one particular moment in my day.

Approximately 4:00PM in the Nielson house on a Thursday afternoon:

The small people in the house were sleeping. I sat on the couch with my Bible open in front of me, although it was managing to inch it's way off my lap as my head was bobbing and I was half-heartedly fighting off sleep myself. The sun reflected off the spring snow that covered the ground outside the mammoth window that spans the back wall of our living room. All was as peaceful as a stay-home mother to three could ask for.

For a moment anyway. Until I heard Phoebe's newborn cries for attention coming from her temporary bed in my room. I gave her a few minutes to see if she would settle back to sleep on her own. No such luck, this time. I wasn't too disappointed. After all, it's only taken me three kids to learn to not just cherish and appreciate the opportunities to savor a moment with an 8 pound bundle of sweetness, but to also anticipate them.

As I sat in the midst of my only semi-clean living room feeding my daughter, I couldn't help reflecting on one thing: Blessings.  I have been abundantly blessed beyond measure.  My life is so full, and I feel like I could ask for nothing more.  I married the most wonderful man and father there is.  He has a job he loves, which I have come to realize is a blessing beyond compare in itself.  I have fulfilled my life time dream of being a stay home mom.  Most days, there is nothing I would rather do than spend the day with the 3 sweetest kids I know.

It wasn't a major moment.  Just a pause in my day to remind me that I really do love my life.  

The End of an Era

This building doesn't exist yet, but next week is the ground breaking ceremony for it.  It will likely be a couple of years before it looks anything like this, but this is the projection of what is to come.  It's funny how the timing of it has all happened.  Tim and I have talked about this building for a long time.  It's been the topic of conversation in our household far too many times to count.  Between just Tim and I, with high schoolers, with friends, with people who attend Mission Hills, with people who used to attend Mission Hills, and with people who have never been to Mission Hills.

Tim has said for years that he would never see the inside of the new building.  I'll modify that statement just slightly.  He'll never see the inside of that building as an employee.  He knew all along that although we had prayerfully submitted to the leadership's decision to make this building happen, and although Tim actually got to do some consulting on what the youth would need and should have in this building, and although we have actually in small ways contributed to the funding of this building, we will never actually get to be a part of it.

Next week is the ground breaking.  All families from the church are supposed to bring their shovels to be a part of the ceremony and celebration.  

We will not be there.  Next week will be the first week in over seven years, the first week since our very first Sunday in Colorado, that we are not a part of the Mission Hills body.  Everyone will be there, celebrating together, and we will already be a part of Mission Hills history.  A part of the past.  Part of the old building.  We "built on the legacy" at one point in time, but our legacy at Mission Hills is now a part of the past.  it's done.  

I've said a few times over the last few months that it's a bit like losing a limb.  It's with you for so long, that you take it for granted and don't even think about what life would be like without it.   Until it's gone.  And then you have to learn how to function in a whole new way.  You have to start all over again and create a whole new kind of "normal."  We know that that will happen for us, but for right now, it's still a little painful.  

As I write this, Tim is cleaning out an office that no longer belongs to him.  I wish that I could be with him to help him with the emotions that he is surely packing into those boxes, right along with all his books.  I am sure that a tear or two is slipping into those boxes, along with his books, files, pictures, mementos, and memories.

Please don't misread me.  We know this is for the best.  We know that God has big plans for us.  We know that He is preparing a new legacy for us.  We know that He has held us in his hands throughout this whole process.  We know that we have been sustained by the prayers of faithful friends when we were unsure how to pray on our own.  We know that God loves us and desires to give good gifts to His children.  We know that this was inevitable.  We believe that where ever we land next will be a better fit for us.

But just for the moment, we are looking back, saying our good-byes, and all the while wondering where we will go to church next Sunday.