The Ugly Truth

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John 7:18  -  “He who speaks on his own does so to gain honor for himself, but he who works for the honor of the one who sent him is a man of truth; there is nothing false about him.”

Jesus just ushered in stunned silence.  Silence.  Quite possibly the greatest gift I can give to myself and others around me, my silence.  How often do my words have NOTHING to do with His honor?   Too often to even begin to estimate.

As a writer, as a daughter, sister, friend, acquaintance I tend to be dishonest – I tend to wait to tell you the truth regarding my own ugliness until God has refined and regenerated, I wait until He has washed me in the Word and I can present something, someone to you that has been sanitized by this wonderful God we serve.  I hide the ugly, dirty truth from you; why?   Because I do not want you to see the truth before He arrives on the scene but the problem that arises is how can He receive the glory if you did not see the dirty?  He doesn’t.  So, enter … the dirty.

Before I was able to write about the tremendous amount of money and energy spent on our newbie’s dental care and tell of our privilege of being part of His miracle I had spent a ridiculous amount of time complaining, alright a more suited description would be whining to God about bringing me children that in Will’s words, “have seriously jacked up mouths!”  I may even have reminded God of the cost (both in time and money) of the adoption and now this?  Not proud of that, but it is the ugly truth.  So, in actuality the real miracle is not that God orchestrated their entire dental care long before we even knew they were in need of it, but that He is able and willing to take someone so ugly and selfish and re – remind her of His unfailing love in her life.  I would probably have smote me, fortunately I am not God.

Another ugly truth that I have not given voice to anyone but BJ and that is only after double checking behind me – that sometimes I resent these two precious little girls that God has brought me.  I resent them because I am still mourning the passing of my “old family” (that is another blog in the making.)  I resent them because I know the tremendous sacrifices my oldies have made on their behalf, which is crazy because the oldies don’t resent them, so why should I?  Why?  Because I am selfish and so often so ugly on the inside, until He shows up . . . and He ALWAYS shows up.  I have feelings of resentment and frustration towards these children that did not ask to come here, they did not pick me, I picked them!  And then I feel guilty and then I resent them for my guilt, no j/k, I have not taken it quite that far.  Jesus gets a hold of me first.

Get this one – I have honestly stood beside the river near our house and watched the boaters flying by with their bikinis and beers and wished to God that I could launch a rock into the hull of that boat and sink that bad boy!  Why?  Pure jealousy, that is why.  Because they are out on the water on a beautiful day and I am trapped in my house on that beautiful day with 6, count them 6 children teaching Grammar or some useless subject like that!  Ugly?  Yes.  Truth?  Yes, again.  But, Jesus gently reminds me that these 6 and their lessons and laundry and dirty faces, these 6 are a privilege and they are the catalyst that has forged a partnership that has been welded tightly through the fires of adoption and mothering.  And this partnership, a threefold cord that cannot quickly be undone is the greatest blessing of my life.

What else?  Oh, right, my Mother’s Day post came after several hours of crying to God about my sorrowfully sad “special day.”  He listened . . . for a little while and then He mercifully ended the boo-hoo fest just right before I completely digressed into a self-absorbed, narcissistic cry-baby.  And the time that followed with Him is precious to me in more ways than I could ever hope to express on paper (or blog).

Many more, but I will not bore you with anymore details.  Prayerfully and quietly, I attempt to allow the Holy Spirit to refine me until I can claim that “he (or she) who works for the honor of the one who sent him is a man of truth.”

To this I race on.

It has been awhile . . .

How is everyone? I have missed writing, I have actually been writing just not anything you all would be interested in reading, so I just bore BJ with it. Things are good here in the Ruppel household, we have been busy since we last talked; two root canals, four teeth extractions, three crowns, countless hours in the orthodontist's office, many swim lessons and our first 5 weeks of school as a family of 8 have all been successfully navigated over the last few months.

What can I say about it all except that God is so good and faithful. He has stood beside us through many mountain top moments and carried us through deep and painful valleys, but where He is proving Himself ever-faithful to me is the plains of life.

The plains of life ~ the thousands upon millions of moments that are neither high nor low, the moments that make up the steady rhythm, the ebb and flow of life. The continuous flow of laundry, lesson plans, teeth brushing, dinners, rides to swim practices and yet another batch of brown rice (I have begun to associate brown rice with my newbies because we consume it now in large quantities because it is inexpensive and healthy) and the plains of life are often tedious, taxing, exhausting and downright boring. In my past I have allowed the plains of life to steal the joy in my faith, the joy in my family and the joy in my heart. I have spent countless hours (I am ashamed to say) in the laundry room or at the stove reminding God that this whole "stay-at-home, home schooling, Navy wife" was NEVER part of the plan. And He always reminded me (when I was willing to listen) that it was never part of whose plan? His or mine?

Yet, lately I have encountered a wondrous thing in the plains ~ a happening and stirring in my soul that is forever changing the way I perceive the plains. The plains are Jesus, and when I whittle my days away there in the plains I whittle away with Jesus. It is amazing ~ my laundry room that smells as if something came to die there, Jesus is there waiting for me, incredible; the Savior of all of mankind is hanging out doing laundry with me and then he sits at the counter while I make dinner and then I feel Him peering over my shoulder as I pour over lesson plans, guiding and directing and encouraging. Did you get that?! Jesus is in my laundry room with me!! At my sink doing dishes with me, again!! He referees fights, sits with me during ASL lessons, hangs out in the dentist's office and on and on.

What He is revealing to me is that the plains are not boring . . . when you are caring for His people. When you take His little girl to the dentist office for her root canal He is thrilled because He saw her pain and is so excited to end her pain. And now I have the privilege of being part of a living, breathing miracle and my Guide through these experiences . . . He is breathe taking and He takes my breathe away in so many ways.

So, He continues to teach me to walk through the plains, He reminds me I do not have to be a missionary to Africa or leading ministries to walk this journey with Him. No, we just have to look for our Guide everywhere we go and you can always find Him amongst His people ~ the lost, the hurting, the sick, the widow, the orphan, the drug addict, or the homeless.

Stay faithful in the plains of your life and your Guide will reward you and just think, you too can have a lifelong laundry buddy.

Hebrews 11:6 ~ "But without faith it is impossible to please Him, for he who comes to God must believe that He is, and that He is a rewarder of those who diligently seek Him."

And we race on.