Thursday, August 22, 2019

Memories

It has been a few months since we went on a very eventful trip back to the States. We got to see so many people who are very dear to our hearts and spend time with old friends and family. We are so grateful for all the people who support our mission here in Germany, you all are a huge blessing to us. These last few months seemed like a never ending sequence of events with one thing chasing the other. We were just nonstop go go go. First our super long trip with major unexpected life changing craziness, that was our accident. Then English Summer Sport Camp. The day after camp, we moved to a new apartment, and the day after that we drove down to my parents' place for a family get together and to pick up our kids, who had been spending the week there so we could focus all our energy on English Summer Sport Camp.

This has been a lot, and now that the dust has settled and we are settling into a new place, a new rhythm, I find myself flashing back to the most joyful, but also the most painful moments of our trip. Today, a memory popped into my mind that had nothing to do with the accident, but non the less brought tears to my eyes.
I´m being very vulnerable here, and hope that someone can take something away from this.....
who am I kidding, I hope I can take something away from this and work through it by putting it out there.

It was during our week in SLC and we were sitting together with some of our former high school students from our church. It was mostly guys from John´s small group. Guys who had come over to our house almost every Sunday night; gathered in the basement to hang out, play video games and hopefully have some deep conversations. I have known all of those guys for years, they are like family. We were having so much fun, talking about old times and reminiscing about all the fun things we experienced together. I am so proud of the men they have become. So I was having a pretty good time until one of them said: "man, your guys´ kitchen was filthy".

At first I was shocked, and hurt. I really did not know what to say, or how to respond. I have never claimed to be a great house keeper. I love being organized but I know life on a day to day basis with little kids can get quite messy. But I was hurt so bad by his words. I wanted to defend myself. I wanted to shout : " no it was not". I wanted to ask other people, what kind of memories they had of our kitchen. Honestly, I wanted to yell at him. I wanted to tell him all about postpartum depression and anxiety and how having kids without having family around to help out is so so hard and how some days cleaning my kitchen was the least of my worries. I wanted to remind him of the countless times I fed him, made cookies or hot chocolate, or whatnot, and if he thought my kitchen was so filthy, well then he did not have to eat any of my food, what was he doing in my kitchen anyways!

But I didn´t. I did not say any of those things. Even though I wanted him to see my point so badly, even though in my heart and in my head I wanted to be right, I didn´t press the issue; because honestly...I really should not care. If he thought my kitchen was a mess and that´s the only thing he took away from being at our house Sunday after Sunday, then I just feel sorry for him. If that is his only takeaway, then that´s on him. I cannot change that. No way of arguing is going to change his point of few. I sure hope that the state of our kitchen was not his only takeaway, but I also know that there were plenty of other guys in that Sunday night group who felt loved and cared for and accepted in our house. It is not about being right. It is not even about having a spotless house. It´s about loving people. And I sure love those guys and I hope they felt it. I guess I want to make peace with that memory and here is the takeaway for me. You are only responsible for your own actions. You are only responsible for the way you love people. You cannot force others to see it or accept it. If it falls on deaf ears or blind eyes, then it´s out of your control. You cannot force others to see that you care for them. If they want to ignore it, they will. It´s all about relationships and loving on people. And I pray, that my eyes will always be open to the ways people love  on me. And I hope my heart will remain open to keep loving.

So, we will keep opening our house and our lives to others, despite the mess, so that they may experience love and acceptance. As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.