Let me try to describe my Lent so far in four words: beautiful, devastating, chaotic, hopeful. It has been one of those months, and it is within that strange context I wrote my latest piece for Velvet Ashes (a whopping three weeks past deadline). The ladies over there are gentle with me, and allow me time to hash out all the things in 1000 words or less.
Ten years ago, when we first joined our organization and excitedly planned out the entirety of our overseas career, I was full-speed ahead. I was a young mother, yet still envisioned a 'parallel role' for myself, where my husband Matt had his ministry and I had mine. Maybe our work would coincide, but more likely they would diverge and complement.
Our organization firmly supported the wife’s decision to choose her role in ministry. Though my husband was the 'primary employee,' they appointed us as a married couple, embraced both of us as ministry workers, and our churches commissioned us both to full-time service.
We were 'all in,' together.
This worked pretty well for approximately 6 months...
Today I'm writing about the role I expected myself to be in when we first moved overseas. And the role I didn't expect but came to embrace. It's a long road - 10 years - of trial and error. And tears. And prayer. And comfort eating. And I'm sorry to tell you, I'm still meandering my way down it. But there's room here for more people to come along, as Jesus calls it, the better way.
(Image above taken before digital cameras, when my mother and sister first accompanied me to Ireland, and my little world got flipped all around. Praise be.)