How to know where I'm going?

*note: I wrote this probably a month ago, but (as is pretty typical lately, for reasons I'll elaborate) I got distracted and forgot to publish it. Update soon to follow.

"where do I go from here?" I disliked Disney's Pocahontas 2, but that song has always stuck with me, and I've been singing it a lot lately. I applied for quite a few jobs for about two months, and didn't get a single interview. That frankly surprised me, as I figured "Ten years' experience" on a resume would be an ace in the hole. Now with the economic flux surrounding COVID-19, I'm not much expecting things will pick up for me. But, thankfully our tax refund this year is the biggest we've ever received and will keep us afloat for a few months. Discussing it with Kenneth, we decided that it is probably better that he pursue certifications.

I've doubted more than ever these last couple of months that I could handle another job right now anyway. Potty training is not going well, and so it feels like most of my days consist of taking the two-year-old to the bathroom, sitting down to do something, getting up to clean up the accident he had anyway, then consoling the baby who cried the whole time I attended to the accident, wondering, "now what was I doing again?" then turning around to see there's already another accident. I haven't even finished the DTP course which I promised Christie long ago. I picked it up again in February meaning to have it done by April 1. I have a first draft done, but still a lot of clean-up to do on it. I also have responsibilities with Stare of Owls, and we are being presented with opportunities (partially thanks to the lockdowns) that may make us money but ... will I have time? I really struggle to focus on anything more than ten minutes. I'd told myself I would be able to handle it by enrolling Nathanael in a Parents' Day Out when business picked up, but now who knows when those programs will open up again.

I also have to ponder a lot where the Lord is taking me spiritually in all this. I suppose what troubles me is that I've always (at least since I was a teenager) wanted to pour myself wholeheartedly into everything I did (hence the tagline of this blog), and lately I feel the need for reservation everywhere. Got to hold back on work to take care of the kids, got to put the kids aside to make progress in work. Want to fix up things around the house, but feel like I can't do that and get enough rest too. Even as we wait to go back church, whether mine or Kenneth's, the problems in the churches seem to stick out to me a lot more than any way I can help. It's a little amusing for me to hear people all around me talk about the Netflix shows they're watching to fill the time of social distancing, when I still feel overstretched. That in itself I wouldn't mind, but it's the lack of focus in the stretching that I have a hard time handling.

So, Lord, show me how to focus on You in this time, to grow as You desire, to be faithful but not foolhardy.

An unexpected end

I have sent the news to my prayer and financial supporters, so I think it's safe to make it public now, giving a few more details for those who may be interested.

Last spring as we were preparing for our trip to Zambia, I had to update some paperwork for SIM. As I did, I found there was one point that I could not affirm as I used to. Though I was hopeful that a promise not to make it an issue would be sufficient, and the personnel director took months to pray about the matter, it was finally concluded that I no longer meet the qualifications for an SIM missionary.

When the possibility that this could happen was brought up in the TEN3 meeting, Anthony told the others that "Satan's trying to get JennyBeth off the team." But I told him later, I don't see how this could be the devil's work, because no one was doing anything wrong. If I had given into a sin, or if I was being dismissed out of jealousy or some other such motivation, that would make sense. But it wasn't wrong for me to pursue the questions I did and conclude the matter was not as certain as I once thought. Nor was it wrong for the personnel director to uphold the standard that was prayed and deliberated over long before I joined SIM.

I wondered if I would be depressed leaving. I did cry. I can't leave something I've loved for ten years that easily. But the comfort that I did the right thing combined with another bit of encouragement, that maybe our leaders in Nigeria, Zambia, and Tanzania are ready to take the ministry forward without me. I'm not leaving behind the material-producing powerhouse we envisioned ten years ago, but maybe I am leaving enough seeds for the Africans to do what they must.

What next? We are looking and wondering. I had already dropped down to part-time status with SIM, and my support level made it barely above minimum wage--but it's still income we can't afford to lose, so we have to find something else. If I find part-time work that I can do from home, then I suppose we will continue much as we have been, with probably more income and I'll mostly be out of TEN3. If I find full-time work that would support the whole family, Kenneth is amenable to becoming the stay-at-home parent. Though that will still have its difficulties while Luke is nursing, Kenneth is already entertaining ideas of growing a garden and getting food animals again to teach/entertain the boys. But we are also looking for better-paying jobs for him. If he could find one, then I could continue on with TEN3 as a volunteer. Or perhaps I'll find a contract position, working full time from home for a few months and giving him time to get a CISCO certification. We've even wondered if this will somehow open up an opportunity for him to go to seminary like he's always wanted.

The search in the midst of trying to finish things with the mission, and going through the "what-ifs," is sometimes exciting but also getting tiring. My prayer is simply for enough money to do all that God wants us to do, and enough time to devote to our kids, house, and whatever else we should be doing.

It's not the crossroads, it's the steps you took to get there

When I was in Zambia in 2013, the leader of the youth ministry that hosted us asked each of us to share a word with his students. I wasn't exactly prepared--even years into missions, I wasn't used to being asked to preach/minister/advise on the spot, even though it's common on my trips. So I don't think I communicated it very well, as I got pretty blank expressions, but the point I tried to share was that the big decisions, the pivotal moments of your life to do great things for God, really matter a lot less than you think.

The last time that I felt like I had a big decision I was torn about and needed to hear from God was where to go to college. The more I've matured in my walk with Him, the less the big things have felt like decisions at all. More and more at each each crossroad, there would be only one way that made sense to who I was. Every chance I had to date someone in those early years, either the chance would close desipe my efforts, or the man just didn't fit what I knew would be best for me as one who would bring me closer to God. When I graduated, with career and grad school options galore, the only thing I could picture myself doing (besides having a family, which as I just said wasn't working out) was missions. When I found TEN3, I had very little deliberation about joining because it so well fit everything I had developed a passion for and everything I was good at. Even though Kenneth in so many ways did not fit what I was sure I wanted in a husband, I still think back convinced I couldn't NOT have married him, because I saw that, to become the person God wants me to be, I need him.

That's not to say I didn't agonize many times over whether I was right, and pray for God to show me if I wasn't. I certainly didn't always like the implications I knew would come out of the decisions I was making. But the way always was an inevitability coming from the desires I had inculcated.

Which brings me back to the point I was trying to make to the Zambian kids years ago. The big crossroads don't matter so much because they are determined by the little decisions you make when it doesn't seem to matter. The things you fill your mind with, the people you spend your time with, the mercy you give or withhold, and especially the time you spend praying, will always determine the big choices you will make later. I remember John Randles once explained that our spiritual lives are like a bank account, and in the dialog when Peter said he would die with Jesus and Jesus replied that he was about to deny him three times, Jesus was telling him, "You haven't made the deposits for that kind of withdrawal."

Another way to put it may be that how you perform in your time of testing will be determined by how dedicated you were to self-sacrifice when you were comfortable. I am humbled and reminded all the more how I must fill my mind and my time, for surely every regret I will ever have will come from lack of prayer.