I (Martha) never thought I would actually see it happen, so I forgot to look. And then one day while rummaging through things on the top of a desk, something caught my eye outside the window. My heart leaped, and for a brief moment I felt a sense of giddiness, an emotion that I hadn’t felt in a very, very long time. Looking out across the tree line I spotted color. Just a few patches of amber, cinnamon, and burnt orange, but it was enough to remind me that fall was coming.
My moment of giddiness was fleeting, and it was consumed by the heaviness that had made itself a home in my chest for several weeks. But I kept returning to that window to see if I could get that feeling back, and without fail, I could. I just had to look outside and remind myself that it was really happening.
As a person who grew up in Southern California, I have only ever experienced one fall. While we were in Pennsylvania last furlough, I loved that magical season when the trees are lit up like a brilliant rainbow with colors that I didn’t even know existed. I had waited years to see it again, but the weather was unseasonably warm, with no change in sight, and the anxiety I have been dealing with choked my joy and diminished my hope. I stopped caring, so I forgot to look.
We often forget to look for the good gifts God gives us. This furlough has been an emotional rollercoaster so far. This teen thing is no joke, and homeschooling can feel like dragging a dead horse through quicksand, where we all end up going under for the day. The uncertainty of where we will live in LA has left us discouraged and distracted. A couple of weeks ago, on a day that felt dark and chaotic, I remembered I had the power to do something about the way I felt, so I grabbed a pen and frantically began to write down things I was thankful for.
“I am thankful for a mother-in-law who sits with my son every day and works on Spanish. I am thankful for a father-in-law who makes us bacon and eggs for breakfast. I am thankful for Bella who does her schoolwork with no fuss, and spontaneously cleans the bathroom without being asked. I am thankful for Asher who always gives hugs and has a sensitive heart. I am thankful for Jacob who has worked hard doing various odd jobs in the neighborhood to earn his own money and hasn’t spent any of it. I am thankful for my husband Adam who helps keep Jacob on track with his online school and who has a heart to bring this family closer to God. And most of all I am thankful that I know and worship a God who will be faithful to provide all that we need.”
Writing these words made me see my problems in a different light, and that simple act lifted heaviness and brought feelings of peace. It also helped me to remember all that God has taken me through, and all that He will bring me through in the future. I remembered that God preserved my life during a massive heart attack, picked up our house after it fell over on the side of the road, and has protected our family through six and a half years of doing life on the mission field. And I remembered that in a few months, I won’t be worried about where I am going to live, because I will already be living there.
I no longer forget to look. With every trip to the library or the grocery store, and every glance out the window my eyes are wide open, taking in all the golden and red hues. But I’ve also begun to see something else. There is a reason this season is called fall. All those pretty leaves that I am gazing at are rapidly disappearing, and a tree full of bright amber leaves one day, can look barren and empty the next. Just as quickly as I am watching the leaves turn, I am watching them fall.
What do we do when all that brilliance and beauty is gone, and we are left looking at what appears to be a bare and dead tree? Can I be thankful even when life feels barren and empty? On a recent road trip, I stared out the window trying not to miss the trees and I began to notice that in between all the pretty ones, were trees that had already been stripped down. I realized that I would soon be staring at a landscape that appeared dark, and cold, but before I could panic, I realized something else. Those trees wouldn’t stay that way. They would only be barren for a season, and in his own time, God would usher in spring. Instead of seeing the ugly trees, I am reminded that spring always comes. The worries that I have in my life right now, will not always be here. Spring always comes. The seeds that have been planted will bloom!
Those dead looking trees now represent hope. Since hope is something I really need, I have decided to do something I have absolutely forbidden my children or myself to do. Hope for snow. In an effort to protect my children from disappointment my mantra has been “Do not hope!” But even if again, we don’t see snow, I think it just feels better to hope.
Friends and family, whatever the view outside your window is, whether it is beautiful leaves, barren trees, or blackened burnt hills, make time for giving thanks, remembering, and hoping for something that will make your heart leap.
Prayer Requests
Please pray for our housing situation in Los Angeles. We currently have no housing lined up, and at this point it looks like we will have to find an apartment and furnish it from scratch. We are willing and able to do that, but the task is a bit daunting. Pray that we will find a good apartment that will allow a six-month lease, and where our whole family can thrive. Pray also that we will be able to find inexpensive ways to furnish an apartment that we will use for only six months (such as borrowing things from friends and buying at thrift stores and yard sells).
Jacob (ideally) needs to finish his online school before December fifth when we begin traveling across the country. Please pray for his endurance, concentration, and motivation.
My moment of giddiness was fleeting, and it was consumed by the heaviness that had made itself a home in my chest for several weeks. But I kept returning to that window to see if I could get that feeling back, and without fail, I could. I just had to look outside and remind myself that it was really happening.
As a person who grew up in Southern California, I have only ever experienced one fall. While we were in Pennsylvania last furlough, I loved that magical season when the trees are lit up like a brilliant rainbow with colors that I didn’t even know existed. I had waited years to see it again, but the weather was unseasonably warm, with no change in sight, and the anxiety I have been dealing with choked my joy and diminished my hope. I stopped caring, so I forgot to look.
We often forget to look for the good gifts God gives us. This furlough has been an emotional rollercoaster so far. This teen thing is no joke, and homeschooling can feel like dragging a dead horse through quicksand, where we all end up going under for the day. The uncertainty of where we will live in LA has left us discouraged and distracted. A couple of weeks ago, on a day that felt dark and chaotic, I remembered I had the power to do something about the way I felt, so I grabbed a pen and frantically began to write down things I was thankful for.
“I am thankful for a mother-in-law who sits with my son every day and works on Spanish. I am thankful for a father-in-law who makes us bacon and eggs for breakfast. I am thankful for Bella who does her schoolwork with no fuss, and spontaneously cleans the bathroom without being asked. I am thankful for Asher who always gives hugs and has a sensitive heart. I am thankful for Jacob who has worked hard doing various odd jobs in the neighborhood to earn his own money and hasn’t spent any of it. I am thankful for my husband Adam who helps keep Jacob on track with his online school and who has a heart to bring this family closer to God. And most of all I am thankful that I know and worship a God who will be faithful to provide all that we need.”
Writing these words made me see my problems in a different light, and that simple act lifted heaviness and brought feelings of peace. It also helped me to remember all that God has taken me through, and all that He will bring me through in the future. I remembered that God preserved my life during a massive heart attack, picked up our house after it fell over on the side of the road, and has protected our family through six and a half years of doing life on the mission field. And I remembered that in a few months, I won’t be worried about where I am going to live, because I will already be living there.
I no longer forget to look. With every trip to the library or the grocery store, and every glance out the window my eyes are wide open, taking in all the golden and red hues. But I’ve also begun to see something else. There is a reason this season is called fall. All those pretty leaves that I am gazing at are rapidly disappearing, and a tree full of bright amber leaves one day, can look barren and empty the next. Just as quickly as I am watching the leaves turn, I am watching them fall.
What do we do when all that brilliance and beauty is gone, and we are left looking at what appears to be a bare and dead tree? Can I be thankful even when life feels barren and empty? On a recent road trip, I stared out the window trying not to miss the trees and I began to notice that in between all the pretty ones, were trees that had already been stripped down. I realized that I would soon be staring at a landscape that appeared dark, and cold, but before I could panic, I realized something else. Those trees wouldn’t stay that way. They would only be barren for a season, and in his own time, God would usher in spring. Instead of seeing the ugly trees, I am reminded that spring always comes. The worries that I have in my life right now, will not always be here. Spring always comes. The seeds that have been planted will bloom!
Those dead looking trees now represent hope. Since hope is something I really need, I have decided to do something I have absolutely forbidden my children or myself to do. Hope for snow. In an effort to protect my children from disappointment my mantra has been “Do not hope!” But even if again, we don’t see snow, I think it just feels better to hope.
Friends and family, whatever the view outside your window is, whether it is beautiful leaves, barren trees, or blackened burnt hills, make time for giving thanks, remembering, and hoping for something that will make your heart leap.
Prayer Requests
Please pray for our housing situation in Los Angeles. We currently have no housing lined up, and at this point it looks like we will have to find an apartment and furnish it from scratch. We are willing and able to do that, but the task is a bit daunting. Pray that we will find a good apartment that will allow a six-month lease, and where our whole family can thrive. Pray also that we will be able to find inexpensive ways to furnish an apartment that we will use for only six months (such as borrowing things from friends and buying at thrift stores and yard sells).
Jacob (ideally) needs to finish his online school before December fifth when we begin traveling across the country. Please pray for his endurance, concentration, and motivation.
