Lifting My Eyes- True Confessions

I lift up my eyes to the hills-

Where does my help come from?

Never a shortage of views here.

For months I've put off writing and posting because I didn't want to wallow. But I was wallowing. 

Homesickness, winter blues, loneliness, selfishness, you name it. 

I didn't post my last draft because it contained complaining, egads.

It really comes down to what my friend Tiffany said at CC one day when I confessed I had been "faking it" while being so nauseated in early pregnancy during the (awful) months of February and March. 

"Why are you faking it?" Tiffany (and the Lord) asked.

Here it is. Wait for it...

I just don't want anyone to know I'm a fake. 

My good friend Rebekah says that it's the first six months in a new place that just plain stink, (I'm keeping this rated G but I have another word for it.) Maybe I'm about over the "stinky" time.

Maybe it's because I'm finally pregnant after several years of wanting a baby and I'm just so happy about it.

Maybe it's because I'm starting to find myself enveloped in the love of old and new friends and I can't hold them off any longer.

Maybe it's because I'm starting to peel off another layer of dishonesty about myself. I hope that's the case.

Look, people, I really did want to be in Alaska again, we've dreamed about returning here for years. This is a beautiful place to be, and I am learning to appreciate it, one excruciating winter month at a time. 

Eagle River, March 2013
If I'm going to be truthful, I have to confess that this life of constant transition is not the lifestyle I would have chosen for myself. 
It has been painful, at times excruciatingly so. And I've had it pretty easy compared to most military wives. EASY.

Hug, pray for, bring a meal, do something for the military wife you know. This week. Today.

Other than learning to run to the Rock of my Salvation, I don't know how I could have survived it- dare I say, thrived in it- for my entire married life (read: adulthood.)

Slowly, I am learning. Little by little, spring is coming, and I am learning to lift my eyes. I look up, away from myself. I look up to the One who watches over, who keeps tabs on the seasons and knows all of mine. Stop looking for what I'm missing somewhere else and start looking for what I might be missing, right here.

Winter doesn't last forever, even in Alaska. 

My help comes from the Lord, 

the Maker of heaven and earth.

He will not let your foot slip-

he who watches over you will not slumber nor sleep.

The Lord watches over you-

the Lord is your shade at your right hand;

the sun will not harm you by day, 

nor the moon by night.

The Lord will keep you from all harm-

he will watch over your life;

the Lord will watch over your coming and going

both now and forevermore.

Psalm 121 (NIV) 

In the Orbit: or, The Holding Pattern

Eric is almost finished training. He needs two more flights, then we can be released to travel. We're praying that we can have grace for whatever the outcome is... pray for us, please.

Friday, our last household goods were packed up. We are officially living out of suitcases until we arrive in the Last Frontier. I actually felt lighter when the "stuff" that was crammed in our apartment was gone, knowing that to be a sign of readiness. Prepare for liftoff...

We have reservations for the Alaska Marine Highway System, but in order for us to keep those reservations, Eric's flights must take place this week- or we will have to reschedule the trip.

Which, in the grand scheme of life, really doesn't matter all that much, because we can make it happen a week (or two) later if we have to. But the fact is, being in a holding pattern is by nature temporary, and we are so ready to start our "new life."

We hold this pattern until given permission to "land" and we will be content with that. Until then, we plan. Plan A is in effect... until further notice.

And, in the mean time, we are so thankful for the time we've spent in the land of deep roots (Oklahoma.) Our dear friends here have refreshed us by keeping their hearts open to us while we've been here.

"I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith." 2 Timothy 4:7

Saturday was our first ever family fun run, and we all completed the one mile track to support the Edmond Fine Arts Institute.

Today was probably our last Sunday at Bridgeway Church in OKC. What a blessing to have "jumped in" to this body of believers for the summer! It felt like home, brothers and sisters! Which is saying alot, considering our kids are very shy at first, and they have enjoyed it, whether they were in the Kids Church, or participating with us in "Big People" service. Today, Ethan surprised me at lunch by saying, "Mom, when I grow up, I wanna be one of those guys up there doing the worship."

We are so thankful for all of you Okies. We especially loved the Backroom reunion of the "old" housechurch from 2005! Love and thanks to the Litz, Young, Meyer, Crawford, Coate, and Slater families!!! (Next time, we MUST TAKE PICTURES!)

The Little House on Tinker Air Force Base

"Home Sweet Hotel Room"

Well, here we are in Oklahoma City, on Tinker Air Force Base. We are finally what I would call "settled," and it has taken me a week to prepare to blog about it.

There is just so much going on in my head and heart, I almost didn't know how to process it all and anyways, processing takes time. I will say this, though. I cried when we drove down Interstate 40 when we passed the Tinker exits and Rose State College because it was just so familiar. And right now, I'm desperate for "familiar." We miss our Florida "family" so much!

We spent a lovely first week house-sitting for some close Okie friends, in a beautiful, spacious home in the outskirts of the city. We had fun playing in their pool and feeding their chickens... so when we arrived to our little "Temporary Living Facility" or TLF, I found myself having to adjust my expectations. A bit.

It's a mess this morning, but you can see what we're workin' with.

We were tempted to be a bit depressed by the small quarters, but right away we rearranged the front room to make room for the keyboard, which is to the right of the picture. I am so blessed to have a husband with a can-do attitude. It goes along way to keep my negativity in check. Thankfully, there are enough cupboards in the kitchen and bath area that we can keep most stuff put away.

Also, the kids have been great. Ethan hasn't complained a bit about sleeping on the floor, but we've tweaked his arrangement to the brown chair you see there... last night worked pretty well. We put the sofa cushions on top of the chair/ottoman and lay the sleeping bag/pillow on top. It's pretty cozy for a six-year-old. The kids love the park outside the door, the pool and bowling alley down the street.

The day we moved in, I was a little upset, and Rel reminded me that it would be okay. "We can do this, Mom." That girl has a good head on her shoulders. Like her daddy.

We have been reading aloud, On the Banks of Plum Creek by Laura Ingalls Wilder. This, along with the time I spent reading Colossians and Philippians the last few weeks, along with the wonderful time in God's presence at Bridgeway Church, have really sustained my heart.

Here is what I have been pondering lately:
~I don't live here (in Oklahoma City, USA, Earth) permanently. Thankfully, I belong Somewhere Else. This is a great comfort. A great truth. "Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head." I must be careful not to place my trust in this "place."

~I don't live in this body permanently, for that matter. My life is belongs to my Redeemer. I am chosen, holy, and dearly loved! Check out these clothes: Colossians 3:12

~Most families of the world TODAY (let alone American pioneers like the Ingalls family) live in much smaller homes/houses/dwellings than the one I have now. Many families with many more kids figure out a way to do this. Mostly, they live outside and don't expect A/C. So we can do this. And we can thrive at it. Even if we can't be at the beach. ;)

~Libraries are truly wonderful, wonderful establishments.

~"Where there is a will, there's a way." Ma Ingalls' wisdom really comes in handy. I was delighted with how this shoe organizer helped solve our clutter problem in the bedroom.

~HGTV and the Food Network are so much fun to watch, especially while working out!



"A thing of beauty is a joy forever" even in a hotel. A potted plant and fruit bowl add a little happy to our room.

Reaping: or, Why Love is Always Worth Giving

The beautiful mango tree in our backyard this morning. I will miss this view.

This is when we reap what we sow.

Every time we move, which is every few years, it hurts. We uproot the comforts of our home, we say goodbye to friends we have invested in, and we "take our show on the road."

No, I haven't "gotten used to it." A few years back, the husband of one of my dear friends asked her, "Doesn't Liz just get used to moving? I mean, she's a military wife." I think he said this because said friend was sharing how very, very hard it was to say "goodbye." This friend and I were like two peas in a pod in Virginia and I think said husband might have been a little sick of hearing about our departure. But life goes on, and we are still close friends from afar.

Here's the deal on that: I don't think I want to "get used to it." Because to me, getting over it would mean closing off my heart. Over time, a hard heart dies.

Don't think that I'm not tempted to do just that. Believe me, I am. Every time we move, I'm tempted to decide, "I'm not doing this again! No more deep friendships, no more looking for fellowship, no more reaching out. We'll just do our thing as a family, and I don't need anybody." As if that would guarantee that I wouldn't feel pain. On the contrary, I would be trading in the pain of goodbye for the pain of wasted time, loneliness, and hardness of heart.

Now, there is a little bit of that hardness that gets in there. I can feel it even now. It's the part of me reluctant to shed tears, even when a friend does. Even though I want to "mourn with those who mourn.

Also, I'm just so danged busy I can barely breathe, let alone get all mushy and sentimental and cry all day.

Especially, though, I just hate it! I hate goodbyes. They are like death. I'd rather not think about it.

I would like to think that I am so sure of the truth. I prayed with the girls last night, "teach us to know that You have a more Real reality waiting for us in the next life, like Narnia was just a picture of what lay beyond." (My kids are really into Narnia right now so I try to use references whenever I can.) This is what I was referring to in my prayer:

It was the Unicorn who summed up what everyone was feeling. He stamped his right fore-hoof on the ground and neighed and then cried:

"I have come home at last! This is my real country! I belong here. This is the land I have been looking for all my life, though I never knew it till now. The reason why we loved the old Narnia is that it sometimes looked a little like this. Bree-hee-hee! Come further up, come further in!"

He shook his mane and sprang forward into a great gallop...

(The Last Battle, C.S. Lewis)

 Meaning, we will get to see these dear ones again, if not in this life, in the next!

But I haven't experienced that yet, so I don't really Know. I have to have Faith.


I think it will be worth it. Here's why: "This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers." 1John 3:16 (Cool reference, huh?) We keep growing in this and into this. We must lay down our lives in love, because that's what our Lord Jesus did for us.

And as we leave, that is what our friends do for us. We reap what we sow, when we receive dozens of offers for help to pack our stuff, when we are given a heart stoppingly large going away party by our friends from church, when we are hugged and blessed and kissed and prayed for as we do all this "goodbye-ing." We are given this and much more, love to overflowing.

Another sight I will miss, our honey locust tree

We may be uprooting, but we are uprooting a tree that is "planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season." The fruit is the love born of a life of love, rooted by Everlasting streams coming from our Heavenly Daddy. We are being sent out in love, so that when we are replanted we will be able to invest. There will be a time of sowing again.

"Not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own. Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus." Philippians 3:12-14

Come further up, come further in!