Dear Home Base: Greetings From Iowa!

Dear Home Base:

It’s day two of our adventure, and I woke up on the wrong side of the bed.

Actually, I just woke up far earlier than I planned on a squeaky air mattress next to my sister. The fans were too loud, the windows too bright, my head too full to go back to sleep for a long time.

So I thought of some of you.

I thought of all the texts I had to send when I got up, the Facebook posts necessary to keep the you guys updated, the blog posts that I’m never going to catch up on. And then I considered pulling the plug on all communication, ‘cause, goodness, this is not vacation if I’m lying awake at sunrise thinking about Facebook! Resolved to quit as your informant after all, I finally fell asleep.

When I awoke again, everybody was in a bad mood. There are ten people in this house in West Des Moines, Iowa. My family is staying with close friends who moved in the same day as we did—yesterday. We jumped in to help as soon as we got here. It wasn’t overly strenuous; we were glad to be here for it. But by this morning, all of us were tired and frustrated with somebody. I knew it as I fumed about nothing: We were under attack.

Satan has been all over this vacation since we started planning. Three weeks ago, he tried to ruin our car, or worse, in the accident, and God used it for good. The night before we left, most of us got into a fight, and God used it for good. Obvious good. God’s winning this battle, but that doesn’t mean we can stand here idle.

So as I longed to storm off somewhere away from all the people, plagued by the grudging attitude that seems to have taken up permanent residence in my heart lately, I whispered a prayer: “God, help us.”

And then we had church.

All ten of us piled ourselves in the brand new living room, some still in pajamas, most in shorts and t-shirts. We hummed along to favorite worship songs played from my dad’s phone. Everyone, from the youngest child to the parents, shared a favorite verse. And in that safe, cozy place, I remembered the character of God.

The mother with whom we are staying shared selections from Isaiah 43, especially verse 16 and 19: “Thus says the LORD, who make a way in the sea, a path in the mighty waters… ‘Behold, I am doing a new thing…’”

“The people didn’t know God’s path led through the sea.” She spoke it with knowing in her eyes. She, too, has walked unforeseen paths. “But God knew. And this, this what y’all are doing is a new thing. And I’m praying that He does something special in each one of you.”

It is a new thing. This is the first sabbatical my father has taken, the first any pastor of our church has taken. It’s the longest I’ve ever been away from home, from my own bed, and the old routine. It’s on purpose, though; God drew us out here to the firsts, the new, the unknown to do something in each of us. He called us to walk pathways we may have never thought were there.

My own mother shared Psalm 32:7, the words of David to God: “You are a hiding place for me; you preserve me from trouble; you surround me with shouts of deliverance.” My mom told us to picture a battle, surrounded by all these people fighting, and then hearing the shouts of, “We’re saved!”

We are saved. Here in this moment, though we do not stand idle, the battle has been won. So we’ll keep moving forward, toward the new things and the unseen pathways and our final destination: back home, restored and ready to serve again.

Keep praying, loved ones! He is doing a new thing, in us and in you!

We love you.

Your Non-Quitting Correspondant,

Jessi