Do you ever take a good look at the person staring back at you in the mirror? I find myself doing that a little more these days. Maybe it’s the age spots or the wrinkles or the hair loss or the fatigue written all over my face. The other day my girls found an old picture tucked away in a book, hidden for several years. It was a picture from my childhood. I think I was in fifth grade. Daughter #1 declared, with a tone of shock and surprise, “Mom! You were such a pretty little girl.”
Were.
It implies a time past. What was. When we are confronted with our past, especially in vivid pictures of old, one can’t help but wonder where that person went. When that old picture was taken, we were on the verge of a major life change as a family. Within one year my dad would lose his job, our family would be uprooted, and we would move across the country–all as I entered middle school. Thinking about that time from the vantage point of an adult and parent, I cannot imagine all that my parents were facing during those difficult days. I simply remember the next year as one where we lived close to our extended family, for the only time in my childhood. A year when my dad found a new job that provided for his family and took him away from us for a couple of weeks at a time. A year when we lived in a really neat house in the woods, with land to explore and places to run and scorpions galore. A year when we rode the bus to the smallest school ever, in a little town. A year when we had fun and laughed and lived. Funny, I’m fairly certain that my parents don’t remember it the same way!
Fast forward to high school, and we were settled into a place, a place that I called home the rest of my days. Another town. Another school. Another church. I was awkward and quiet and observant and studious and obedient and opinionated. The Lord blessed me with the best circle of friends and youth group. We had so much fun together, hung out all the time, and did crazy things. Through high school I grew in confidence and in my knowledge and love of the Lord. By the time I graduated, I was sure of my position in Him. My faith was strong. I’ve always believed that God is more than able to do the impossible. My prayers and decisions during that time in my life revealed my sure confidence in Him!
The night before my high school graduation, I totally rewrote my entire speech. I sensed the Lord wanted me to go in a wholly different direction. I was nervous, but not scared. It was my honor and joy to declare His glory on that stage in front of my entire class and all their family and friends. I’m sure it surprised no one who knew me well, “Of course Cyndi would take this once in a lifetime opportunity to thank the Lord and give Him the honor due His name.” This is no pat-on-the-back to me, it is solely because of my confidence in the Lord, Who He is, and His ability to do the impossible.
After my college internship in D.C., no one close to me was surprised as God began calling me to a life of service to Him. I still had no idea what that would look like, but I was certain that God wanted me wholly surrendered to His purposes for my life. The day I told my Mom and Dad that I was headed overseas for at least a couple of years, my Mom cried with that “mama’s intuition,” knowing this day would one day come. (And I’m sure her tears surprise no one who knows her well!)
When I settled on Central Asia as the place for God’s next great adventure in my life, I was slightly nervous but mostly excited. It’s probably a good thing that I wasn’t afraid because I’m not sure I would’ve ever boarded that plane over twenty years ago, headed to a country of which I could barely pronounce the name. I think that Cyndi of today would say that a healthy dose of stupidity goes hand in hand with faith!!
When I said goodbye to my family and boarded that plane, I had no idea what God had in store on the other side of that decision. I have never once regretted it. Now, I may have doubted it as I flew in to the capital city at three in the morning. It was dark and desolate. No city lights. I remember sitting in my seat, staring out the window, looking into the nothingness below me, and asking in a prayer, “Lord, where have You brought me?!”
When the sights and smells and sounds of this new culture hit me head on as I navigated through customs in that dinky little room filled with cigarette smoke, met my supervisor for the first time, found out my luggage was lost in transit, pushed our way through a sea of men shouting, “Taxi,” and emerged into the cool night air, I found myself filled with awe and wonder that God would allow me to be a part of something so adventurous. Yes, I was afraid. Yes, it was hard. Yes, there were days I missed home. Yes, the language learning was brutal.
Oh, but I experienced God in ways I never knew before. I saw new believers filled with joy, even when family and community threatened them. I saw answers to countless prayers. I experienced church in far less traditional ways, filled with prayer and worship and purpose. Oh, the stories I could tell of His provision, His work, His people.
Absolutely amazing.
I do wonder if I would say “yes” today with as much confidence and walk into the unknown, the Lord by my side?! Is that confident, young girl in there still?
It’s true, I did meet my future husband over there, while He was serving the Lord in that desolate place too. Like I said, I had no idea the wonders God had in store, in my life personally and in the Body corporately and in His Word going forth. How could I have known that He was laying a foundation that He would build on for years to come? That the church would go forth from that small place? That we would get married and continue serving Him together? Have four beautiful children?
I had no idea that the lessons of faith learned in that place, in those years, would lay a foundation for future things to come…
When I learned that our fourth would be born with severe disabilities, I had faith that God could heal Him.
When we learned that we would not be able to live overseas and care for him and walked away from years of fruitful ministry, I had faith that God would be Provider.
When our son was born and taken away for immediate surgery, I had faith that God would guide the hands of the surgeon.
When he spent weeks in the NICU, I had faith that God was right beside him when I couldn’t be there.
When our other children experienced upheaval and anxiety at everything new and unknown, I had faith that God would meet their needs and minister to their young hearts and minds.
When we spent nearly a year praying about where we would live and serve next, I had faith that God would show us our exact place of ministry, in a place that could provide everything our son needed.
When we stepped into a different ministry, unlike anything we had ever known, I had faith that God would make our steps clear.
When we’ve had to clean wounds and give seizure meds and take care of poop and pee and transfer a growing linebacker of a boy, I’ve had faith that God would give us strength.
When we’ve watched him poked with needles, hooked up to machines, rolled away to surgery, breathless and in need of oxygen, altered by seizures, I’ve had faith that God was still in complete control of his days.
When I doubt that we’ve cared for each of our children’s needs to the very best of our ability, I have faith that God is able to care for them in ways far greater than I ever could.
When ministry friends and partners have changed through the years, I’ve had faith that He will always set us right where need to be in life and ministry.
Though I often wonder what that little girl would think of this crazy life I live now, and I wonder where that sure and confident girl of yesterday went, I also know that my faith is far deeper and richer and certain than it ever was twenty or thirty years ago.
The Lord has been a constant steady in the midst of every circumstance that I have walked. I am able to rest in Him and His unchanging ways. Today I am certain of these two things:
- I would not change one thing. He has sovereignly guided every step I’ve taken from those tender early years to this ripe age of 43 and every age in between.
- I am thankful for each and every circumstance. I know there will be more crazy in the days ahead. I’m just old enough to know that life is full of the unexpected. Though my circumstances will change, He never will.
I pulled on old book by one of my favorite authors, Elizabeth Elliot, off the shelf last week, dusted it off, and started reading. Day one, these powerful words resonated in my soul:
The Son willed only one thing: the will of His Father. That’s what He came to earth to do. Nothing else. One whose aim is as pure as that can have a completely quiet heart, knowing what the psalmist knew: ‘Lord, You have assigned me my portion and my cup, and have made my lot secure’ (Psalm 16:5 NIV). I know of no greater simplifier for all of life. Whatever happens is assigned. Does the intellect balk at that? Can we say that there are things which happen to us which do not belong to our lovingly assigned ‘portion’ (This belongs to it, that does not’)? Are some things, then, out of the control of the Almighty?
Every assignment is measured and controlled for my eternal good. As I accept the given portion other options are cancelled. Decisions become much easier, directions clearer, and hence my heart becomes inexpressibly quieter […] A quiet heart is content with what God gives. It is enough. All is grace.
Keep a Quiet Heart
Oh, friend, the Lord is near. Wherever you find yourself today, He is our greatest portion. “Whom have I in heaven but you? And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.” (Psalm 73:25-26 ESV).
A Thousand Little Deaths 