Strange things are afoot in my house. Our time in the in between, wandering in circles in the desert and wondering if we'd actually ever escape, seems to be coming to an end. Hope is drawing near. An end is in sight and we may actually reach the promised land.
My husband and I realized that we would need to leave support-based campus ministry 5 years ago. After many tears and prayers and trial and error, Joel got into grad school. He was going to become a counselor, do the favorite part of his job full-time. A few problems loomed: 1) my husband has dyslexia and hates school, 2) We had no money to pay for school, and 3) we had 4 kids and not a lot of faith.
But here we are. My husband will be graduating with a master's degree in mental health counseling on April 28th. And Joel, the guy who feared school more than anything, will likely be graduating with a 3.7 GPA (one tenth of a point higher than my undergrad score, he likes to point out). I could not be more proud of him.
His teachers and classmates have thoroughly enjoyed his unique perspectives and wisdom from years of ministry experience. The supervisor of his internship has literally begged him to take a job there after graduation, and other job options loom on the horizon. An improbability in this economy. And so, I've begun to feel something for our future that I have not felt in quite some time. I think it's called...
HOPE.
We officially left the ministry just a few months ago and have wondered what it means to live a life outside of full-time occupational ministry. After almost 16 years, it had become a lifestyle. Everything seems new and strange, but not.
Somehow it doesn't affect my love for Jesus or need to be in His Word, it hasn't lessened my desire to tell people how much they are loved by their Creator or to bring hope and healing to their hearts. It's just no longer part of our resume. It doesn't really change the way we live as much as I thought it would.
But being done with school will. I can't imagine getting my Saturdays back. Getting to have family time all together, without Joel heading out for 5 hour study sessions. Or sitting together at night after the kids are in bed, instead of him in the other room on the computer finishing up another assignment. Or his 45 minute commute to class in all kinds of weather.
Other things are happening, too. This full-time working mom thing is not all it's cracked up to be. The pay check is certainly nice, and getting a new professional wardrobe has been fun, but trying to keep all the plates spinning causes something akin to insanity. The house continues to get dirty, dinner still needs to be cooked, groceries need to be gotten and birthdays need to be celebrated. I just don't have the time to do those things anymore. Not when there are four children with varying degrees of neediness and homework nipping at my ankles.
Things have fallen through the cracks. There have been assignments missed, science fair projects not turned in, kids not picked up (they did make it home eventually), and a puppy that rarely goes on runs anymore. In short, the life I worked so hard to create seems to be falling apart at the seams.
But here we are, my 13-year-old transforming from boy to man like some wild science experiment before my eyes, my daughter with her first best friend whose opinion is beginning to matter just a little bit more than mine, and two other boys who still love to run wild, but cling to me when I'm home like I may ship out to sea at any moment.
It's not pretty, this life that I'm living right now. But it's my life. And while I look forward to what comes next, maybe a little respite, a vacation or two? I rejoice in the moments of laughter I share with my kids and the fact that there is no one I would rather travel this road with than my husband.
Life is hard, but there is no denying that God has been oh so good to me...and whatever I may be lacking, I do have this...
hope.
