Jesus was a carpenter by trade. I can see by your face that you are astounded by my vast Biblical knowledge. But, there is a point to my obvious...obviousness. Jesus was a carpenter - not a travel agent nor a self-realization guru. He wasn't a genie in a bottle. Or a political diplomat, or any kind of diplomat, for that matter. Or an advise columnist. He was simply a carpenter. He also was, and IS, God. Again - obvious. Yet, at times, I have treated Jesus as though He was all of those other things - especially in the last few months.
When things started going amiss (a mess!?!?) back in Maui, I began praying and praying. Not that I hadn't always been praying. My relationship with the Lord was wonderful. I was in the Word daily, sitting on the lounge on our lanai, listening to mynahs and frankolins, and looking at at majestic Moloka'i surrounded by a thread of blue sea. I did daily devotionals with my husband, and we prayed together - for our loved ones, our church, and ourselves. I was very involved in our church family. Don was busy with his business. I was writing and painting and making a home for us. It was a lovely, peaceful time.
And then things started going south. Don had, not one, but two, different clients go buy stuff from other agents. He was being squeezed out of a co-listing, to the point where he finally told the other agent to take it (and, no, there was no other suggestion as to what to do with said listing!). He finally changed brokerages, and things seemed to be picking up. Don is a great buyer's agent who advocates for his clients so they can get what they want (note: the clients who bailed likely paid much more than had they stayed with Don), and he began working with his new broker with clients from California - six individuals trying to choose a vacation home. After tons of hours and miles and properties, the six couldn't choose - but chose to blame Don and his broker. All the while, we were praying. And the funds were disappearing. But Don got a listing for a property across from the ocean. Was this God's answer to our prayers? Was this the provision we had been seeking while on our knees?
Then our landlord opted to not renew the lease.
There was a time a few weeks before that we thought we would have to return to the mainland, but after a long, prayerful conversation with our pastor, Steve, we realized that this was not the time. We were being used in many ways that seemed small, but they had significance. We also needed to trust the Lord for our provision. During this time, we also had the prayerful support of so many. So, now, we had no place to live and not enough money to get a new rental. My prayers began to increase in frequency and intensity. At the eleventh hour, Don's client told us that he had a vacation rental that was available for a couple of months. It was a lovely oceanfront bungalow, but it still required us to pack up and leave a home that we had come to think of as our own. Artwork off the wall. Dishes packed up. Furniture dissembled. All of it then taken to storage. The bed Don and I built. The photography of our island. Paintings that represent so much of our life. The armoire that has the drawer where our granddaughter knows to find Grammy's jewelry. All locked away.
The week after we moved into the bungalow, things seemed to move at breakneck speed. A few months before, we had attempted to sell my Solara convertible. No soap. After much "discussion" and prayer, we decided to sell Don's beautiful Lexus. We had no payments on it, but it would garner a substantial chunk o' change. We thought. After a couple of months and a couple of no-shows, it was rather obvious that, while his car was a beautiful car for a realtor to show folks property, it wasn't a big seller on a tropical island where money is snug. Within a couple of days we got a legit call...on the Solara. Don also got a referral for clients who wanted to buy property on the Big Island. Big, fancy, expensive property. So, within days of moving out of our home in Ka'anapali and into the little bungalow in Lahaina, we sold the convertible which funded our trip to the Big Island to find big fancy property for some rich people. Praise God! God had answered our prayers the way we all wanted Him to.
I won't clutter this with more details than already crammed in here, but within a matter of weeks, Don had these folks in escrow on a dream property in Kona, Don's listing went into escrow and he had both sides of the deal, we put our beloved doggy in boarding when we moved into the little vacation condo, Don's clients' cancelled that escrow, Don put them in escrow in a second gorgeous estate, we used the last of our frequent flyer miles to fly home for Christmas, flew to Arizona to see Don's clients, I got hired by the same clients to do a destination wedding for their horse trainer on their soon-to-be Hawaii property, flew back to SD, made plans for all the kids to once again come out to visit in Maui in March, flew back home to the little condo, Don flew back to Kona to inspect the property, all the while communicating regularly with them about Real Estate documents and weddings and how amazing it will be for them to live in Hawaii. Then they stopped communicating - about everything. Their lawyer took over. Then things began to fall apart. We could not buy tickets for the kids. We could not move to another house and spring our furniture from storage and our pup from the doggy hoosegow. By mid-March, the deal was dead. By April 5th, we had the notice from the Homeowners Association. We were done.
And all this time, we were praying. Our family was praying. Our friends were praying. God answered, but the answer was "no". We thought we were buying God's favor by continuing to serve at our church. Don continued to work hard - working sometimes late into the night - on the short sale, which was proving to be quite complicated. I focussed on writing - both book and blog. We always knew that God is able. Able to pull something out of absolutely nothing. Yes, God is able. But He must also be willing, and this time, He was not. He asked us to surrender what we wanted and thought was necessary for our happiness. He asked us to submit our formidable wills to His wiser will. He asked us to obey Him - no matter our hurt and humiliation and anger and confusion.
So, when I asked God to be our travel agent and book only the journey we wanted to take, He said "no - take the better, if crazier, journey I have designed for you". Instead of a book titled "I'm Okay, You're Okay" by a nice, affirming guru, He wrote a book called The Bible, whose subtitle could be "I'm God, You're Messed Up, Read How Much I Love You Anyway". When I asked Him to give me all my wishes, He said "those aren't good enough for you. Be with me in Eternity and I'll show you some stuff that will blow your mind". I whined about friends that weren't being so nice to me and what should I do about it, He pointed to His Word which has every answer about long-suffering and loving friends - and the story of how His friends didn't treat Him right. I complained vehemently about how unfair the whole thing was. Jesus pointed to the stripes on His back and the wounds in His hands and feet where He took the punishment that was "fairly" mine.
So, here we are, in a figurative and literal desert. My skin does not like to be this dry. My legs kind of look like camel-colored alligator skin dusted with talc. If I thought the clothes storage situation was dicey, you should see what passes as offices for Don and me. What is supposed to be our dining area now has my computer, our printer, and all paper and office supplies. Don's desk is about 20" wide and 15" deep, where he keeps his laptop and various real estate...stuff. On the plus side, his office chair is also a recliner, so those mid-work-day power naps are easier than ever. But there is never a doubt that we are here at God's behest. Granted, we're still clueless - but that's a reeeeeally familiar condition.
So now, we work on the surrender, submit, and obey. And, yes, it is still a daily, difficult battle. But God is good. He is endlessly good.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Temporary Reassignment
I love the movie "Pearl Harbor" - not for the graphic, dramatic, heartbreaking reenactment of the unprecedented attack on U.S. soil, but for the romantic (and, yes, not that realistic) drama involving a handful of characters. One of the more overlooked parts of most Pearl Harbor movies is the raid by Colonel Jimmy Doolittle (google it - amazing stuff) on Tokyo some four months following the bombing. These dashing pilots (Josh Hartnett and Ben Affleck - the latter's hat ALWAYS on at a jaunty angle) are personally recruited by Colonel Doolittle himself. They are told it was an important mission, and they had to say "yay" or "nay" without knowing what the mission - or it's level of danger - was. I sort of feel like that right now. Okay. There are no bombs going off around me, and I really don't think that Hemet, CA poses any legitimate threat. But God has put us on a mission that we know nothing about. I don't even recall Him asking if we wanted to do it. But, for now, we have been temporarily reassigned.
Today marks three weeks since we had the sickening realization that we had no choice but to return to the mainland for a while. Tomorrow will be two weeks since we left our beloved island home.
Leaving put us into a bit of a state of shock, but not so much as to take for granted the last few fun things to be done on Maui - at least for a few months. After we dropped our car off at the Kahului Harbor for her little cruise BACK across the Pacific, on Tuesday, April 12, we had a lovely lunch at Ruby's with our dear friends, Johnny and Dixie. I love these two! They have been more help and consolation than I can describe! But I digress.... By the time we got back to the westside, the day seemed to be getting away and there was still plenty to do before going to see FloJo for one last time before we left, and then make it to our last classes at church. I was thinking that there was no way to make it back into the water that I love so much for a visit to the reef that would have to hold me for a while. Don insisted that we take and hour or so to gear up and get in the water. I'm so happy I married that man.
God blessed us inordinately that day. Conditions were clear...ish. There was an abundance and wide variety of little fishy life. In fact, it was so good, that after traversing a reef that took us far out from shore, we opted to turn northward to examine what wonders the reef held there. And thar she was. No, not Nemo. Not Jaws. But a lovely, smiling...BARRACUUUUUUDA!!! YEEEEPS!!! This is the fish that scares the heck outa me waaaaay more than sharks. Sharks are relatively shy and usually bite by accident because they are nearsighted and refuse to wear eye correction. granted, that errant bite could cost you a limb, but the big galoot didn't really mean anything by it. Barracudas are just nasty, ornery, mean fish who will attack just because they think your board shorts are ugly. Now, granted, I love Don's board shorts, but I had no idea about the fashion sense of this toothy fiend. After tussling around for a few scary moments in the water (Don swearing he was trying to get me behind him, but...), we took a sharp right and headed south as fast as our little fins could paddle us. We didn't walk on water, but I'm pretty sure we had a rooster tail kicked up behind us. At the very least, we left quite the sizable wake. We slowed down somewhere before Kaho'olawe, turned to make sure we weren't followed by a lethal puppy, then continued our nice cruise of the reef...going toward the shore.
That evening was pretty emotional for us. We stopped to say goodbye to FloJo, leaving her in the loving hands of Stephen, Christy, and Selah Mendoza. She couldn't be in a happier, safer, more loving place - other than with us, of course! Then we headed to church - Don for his men's study and me with the women. My goodness, that was tough - but wonderful. After some more goodbyes, and a few more tears, Johnny and Dixie fed us once more. These two were going to make sure we didn't go away hungry.
We still had mega packing to go, and even some laundry to finish. Of course. We washed and packed all towels and bedding and such for storage - the idea being that we could use the sumptuous towels and sheets provided in the condo. so yummy. Around midnight, we headed down to the beach, as we had for so many nights before. We moved beach chairs to a distance close enough to the water so that the waves could wash over our feet, but far enough to keep the rest of us dry. We looked at stars twinkling above us and the moonlight dancing on the sea in front of us. Our hearts were breaking, but we also just laid it all out for our Lord - if He wanted us to leave this beauty for a time, then who were we to argue? Well...not that we didn't try... But God is God, and He has His own ideas about what He wants. As we prayed a lot and cried a little, we were made abruptly aware of something: we hadn't quite placed the chairs far enough away from the water to keep dry. A rather aggressive little wave shot over our feet, up our legs, running up under our tushies. We were no longer dry. Not even a little bit. It was nearly 1:00 a.m. by the time we sort of squished and laughed our way back upstairs - looking rather like two cowboys fresh off the long, soggy trail - to put the final items into boxes for mailing, containers for storing, or suitcases for paying through the nose to get them onto our flight back to the mainland.
As we powered through, it became quite apparent that we would be paying a bit for our checked bags. The soggy clothes alone, wrapped up nice and safe from all the other dry clothes, added about 43 lbs. We began thanking God that we no longer had kids to put through college and then started musing about just how much our kidneys were worth. We fell into bed about 2:00-ish. Actually, it was more like onto bed, not exactly in. We gave up on the idea of remaking the beds - with hotel linens or any other type - and just did a face plant on the undressed pillows and mattress cover, then threw a blanket over us. Exhaustion overpowered the chaos in our heads and the alarm seemed to go off right after we closed our eyes.
Preparing to leave the next morning was surreal. We never, ever thought this would happen. Don works so hard and so well at what he does - it simply makes no sense. But we knew what we were being led to do. Well....dragged kicking and screaming is a more apt description. Once again, we were surrounded by the loving souls of Johnny and Dixie (no food involved this time) and Stephen and Christy, with their tiny daughter, Selah. They made what was excruciating, bearable. We even gathered in prayer on the top floor of the Ka'anapali Shores parking structure, and the family waiting to leave, yet blocked by our circle, was respectful and patient. After prayers and tears and hugs and kisses, Johnny and Dixie left for their home, while Stephen and Christy loaded down their SUV with our SEVEN bags, while we took our four carry-ons in the jeep (which is staying with Stephen and Christy). The weather was flawless as we took the drive along the highway, top down on our beloved jeep, and knowing that it would be a few months before we traveled this road again, we tried to memorize every mile. The feeling of dread as we approached the airport had been reserved for those stinging moments of taking loved ones to their flights back to the mainland. But this time, the flight was for us. More kisses, hugs, and tears - and Stephen drove off in my jeep with Christy following in their car. And there we were. No turning back.
The next few hours became even more surreal as we dealt with the practicalities of getting checked in for our flight. yes, we had seven bags - but that wasn't even the best of it. One of the seven was 71 lbs, and another was 91 lbs! The lovely and very sweet lady at the counter was even calling ahead to warn the baggage dudes about these beasts coming - the bags, not us. I won't bore you (further) with details, but suffice to say, our bags cost more than we did. I wonder if they got a meal and a movie. Because of the late ticket purchase, we didn't have seats next to each other - rather, Don sat directly behind me. It was only slightly awkward as he held my hand during take-off. I'm sure that any who observed would think my tears were about fear of flying.
We had a layover in L.A., and that meant a puddle jumper of some ilk to take us to San Diego. I began to wonder if they would allow all of our bags to fly at the same time, given that there were so many and that at least one of them was the same weight as your average super model. We blessed out by getting one of those cool little jets, so it would have a better chance of bearing up under the weight of our baggage. I watched as luggage was being loaded, expecting to see this sharp little jet sort of sag a little as our bags came aboard. But it was all fine. Until we got to SD.
Do you remember those little logic puzzle we had in seventh grade, where you had a fox, a chicken, and a bag of grain that you had to move across a river on a raft that could only hold two of the three at a time. You couldn't leave the hen with the grain, nor the fox with the hen. That is pretty much what we had to do in San Diego, arriving close to midnight at the little commuter terminal. The object of our logic puzzle was to get seven large bags and four carry-ons from the baggage carrousel out to the sidewalk. We each loaded ourselves like sherpas, but that still left a few bags inside....unattended. Thanks to creepy terrorists, leaving bags unattended can get you in lots of trouble. The distance between the baggage carrousel and the sidewalk was, at the most, a hundred feet. My poor spouse was moving as fast as he could, but there was already a cranky security guy starting to get on his radio to report this obvious threat to the three people still remaining in the little terminal. The number of our bags also posed another bigger issue: how could we get all this stuff into a sedan-type cab. Not gonna happen. But God is good, and he sent us a very nice cabbie with a van. He even loaded all of this without Don's help!! We climbed in, gave him our son's address, and away we went. We had not noticed that our friendly cabbie was a fan of either Mr. Toad, or the Amazing Race. We are two tired people who call home an island where the average speed is around 40 mph. This guy was doing double that. We gripped the seat and each other, praying through clenched teeth - but we made it. Our oldest was there to welcome us. What a welcome sight! Don paid the cabbie - tipping him enough so he could get that hernia surgery he would likely need after handling our bags.
And so begins our mysterious reassignment. After moving up to Hemet (more on that in the next installment), we went to church with Kyle and Kristin. The pastor (also a Steve!) was preaching on suffering and trial. He began talking about Job and Jobs buddies. Are ya kidding me!?!? Didn't we just talk about this guy a couple of blogs ago!?!?!? Anyway, the pastor described three reasons for a trial: the discipline from a loving father to his child, the metalworker refining gold, and a gardener pruning the vine. All are painful. All are necessary. We have no doubt that God has called us here for a reason. We also are coming to know that it isn't only about us - it's about what others may learn from our experience. But it still hurts. We love our children and grandchildren, of course, but neither of us have ever been made to leave a home we love and people we utterly adore.
So, we're now in Hemet. I'll tell you more about it next time. Know that we covet your prayers! Know that you are love and appreciated!
Today marks three weeks since we had the sickening realization that we had no choice but to return to the mainland for a while. Tomorrow will be two weeks since we left our beloved island home.
Leaving put us into a bit of a state of shock, but not so much as to take for granted the last few fun things to be done on Maui - at least for a few months. After we dropped our car off at the Kahului Harbor for her little cruise BACK across the Pacific, on Tuesday, April 12, we had a lovely lunch at Ruby's with our dear friends, Johnny and Dixie. I love these two! They have been more help and consolation than I can describe! But I digress.... By the time we got back to the westside, the day seemed to be getting away and there was still plenty to do before going to see FloJo for one last time before we left, and then make it to our last classes at church. I was thinking that there was no way to make it back into the water that I love so much for a visit to the reef that would have to hold me for a while. Don insisted that we take and hour or so to gear up and get in the water. I'm so happy I married that man.
God blessed us inordinately that day. Conditions were clear...ish. There was an abundance and wide variety of little fishy life. In fact, it was so good, that after traversing a reef that took us far out from shore, we opted to turn northward to examine what wonders the reef held there. And thar she was. No, not Nemo. Not Jaws. But a lovely, smiling...BARRACUUUUUUDA!!! YEEEEPS!!! This is the fish that scares the heck outa me waaaaay more than sharks. Sharks are relatively shy and usually bite by accident because they are nearsighted and refuse to wear eye correction. granted, that errant bite could cost you a limb, but the big galoot didn't really mean anything by it. Barracudas are just nasty, ornery, mean fish who will attack just because they think your board shorts are ugly. Now, granted, I love Don's board shorts, but I had no idea about the fashion sense of this toothy fiend. After tussling around for a few scary moments in the water (Don swearing he was trying to get me behind him, but...), we took a sharp right and headed south as fast as our little fins could paddle us. We didn't walk on water, but I'm pretty sure we had a rooster tail kicked up behind us. At the very least, we left quite the sizable wake. We slowed down somewhere before Kaho'olawe, turned to make sure we weren't followed by a lethal puppy, then continued our nice cruise of the reef...going toward the shore.
That evening was pretty emotional for us. We stopped to say goodbye to FloJo, leaving her in the loving hands of Stephen, Christy, and Selah Mendoza. She couldn't be in a happier, safer, more loving place - other than with us, of course! Then we headed to church - Don for his men's study and me with the women. My goodness, that was tough - but wonderful. After some more goodbyes, and a few more tears, Johnny and Dixie fed us once more. These two were going to make sure we didn't go away hungry.
We still had mega packing to go, and even some laundry to finish. Of course. We washed and packed all towels and bedding and such for storage - the idea being that we could use the sumptuous towels and sheets provided in the condo. so yummy. Around midnight, we headed down to the beach, as we had for so many nights before. We moved beach chairs to a distance close enough to the water so that the waves could wash over our feet, but far enough to keep the rest of us dry. We looked at stars twinkling above us and the moonlight dancing on the sea in front of us. Our hearts were breaking, but we also just laid it all out for our Lord - if He wanted us to leave this beauty for a time, then who were we to argue? Well...not that we didn't try... But God is God, and He has His own ideas about what He wants. As we prayed a lot and cried a little, we were made abruptly aware of something: we hadn't quite placed the chairs far enough away from the water to keep dry. A rather aggressive little wave shot over our feet, up our legs, running up under our tushies. We were no longer dry. Not even a little bit. It was nearly 1:00 a.m. by the time we sort of squished and laughed our way back upstairs - looking rather like two cowboys fresh off the long, soggy trail - to put the final items into boxes for mailing, containers for storing, or suitcases for paying through the nose to get them onto our flight back to the mainland.
As we powered through, it became quite apparent that we would be paying a bit for our checked bags. The soggy clothes alone, wrapped up nice and safe from all the other dry clothes, added about 43 lbs. We began thanking God that we no longer had kids to put through college and then started musing about just how much our kidneys were worth. We fell into bed about 2:00-ish. Actually, it was more like onto bed, not exactly in. We gave up on the idea of remaking the beds - with hotel linens or any other type - and just did a face plant on the undressed pillows and mattress cover, then threw a blanket over us. Exhaustion overpowered the chaos in our heads and the alarm seemed to go off right after we closed our eyes.
Preparing to leave the next morning was surreal. We never, ever thought this would happen. Don works so hard and so well at what he does - it simply makes no sense. But we knew what we were being led to do. Well....dragged kicking and screaming is a more apt description. Once again, we were surrounded by the loving souls of Johnny and Dixie (no food involved this time) and Stephen and Christy, with their tiny daughter, Selah. They made what was excruciating, bearable. We even gathered in prayer on the top floor of the Ka'anapali Shores parking structure, and the family waiting to leave, yet blocked by our circle, was respectful and patient. After prayers and tears and hugs and kisses, Johnny and Dixie left for their home, while Stephen and Christy loaded down their SUV with our SEVEN bags, while we took our four carry-ons in the jeep (which is staying with Stephen and Christy). The weather was flawless as we took the drive along the highway, top down on our beloved jeep, and knowing that it would be a few months before we traveled this road again, we tried to memorize every mile. The feeling of dread as we approached the airport had been reserved for those stinging moments of taking loved ones to their flights back to the mainland. But this time, the flight was for us. More kisses, hugs, and tears - and Stephen drove off in my jeep with Christy following in their car. And there we were. No turning back.
The next few hours became even more surreal as we dealt with the practicalities of getting checked in for our flight. yes, we had seven bags - but that wasn't even the best of it. One of the seven was 71 lbs, and another was 91 lbs! The lovely and very sweet lady at the counter was even calling ahead to warn the baggage dudes about these beasts coming - the bags, not us. I won't bore you (further) with details, but suffice to say, our bags cost more than we did. I wonder if they got a meal and a movie. Because of the late ticket purchase, we didn't have seats next to each other - rather, Don sat directly behind me. It was only slightly awkward as he held my hand during take-off. I'm sure that any who observed would think my tears were about fear of flying.
We had a layover in L.A., and that meant a puddle jumper of some ilk to take us to San Diego. I began to wonder if they would allow all of our bags to fly at the same time, given that there were so many and that at least one of them was the same weight as your average super model. We blessed out by getting one of those cool little jets, so it would have a better chance of bearing up under the weight of our baggage. I watched as luggage was being loaded, expecting to see this sharp little jet sort of sag a little as our bags came aboard. But it was all fine. Until we got to SD.
Do you remember those little logic puzzle we had in seventh grade, where you had a fox, a chicken, and a bag of grain that you had to move across a river on a raft that could only hold two of the three at a time. You couldn't leave the hen with the grain, nor the fox with the hen. That is pretty much what we had to do in San Diego, arriving close to midnight at the little commuter terminal. The object of our logic puzzle was to get seven large bags and four carry-ons from the baggage carrousel out to the sidewalk. We each loaded ourselves like sherpas, but that still left a few bags inside....unattended. Thanks to creepy terrorists, leaving bags unattended can get you in lots of trouble. The distance between the baggage carrousel and the sidewalk was, at the most, a hundred feet. My poor spouse was moving as fast as he could, but there was already a cranky security guy starting to get on his radio to report this obvious threat to the three people still remaining in the little terminal. The number of our bags also posed another bigger issue: how could we get all this stuff into a sedan-type cab. Not gonna happen. But God is good, and he sent us a very nice cabbie with a van. He even loaded all of this without Don's help!! We climbed in, gave him our son's address, and away we went. We had not noticed that our friendly cabbie was a fan of either Mr. Toad, or the Amazing Race. We are two tired people who call home an island where the average speed is around 40 mph. This guy was doing double that. We gripped the seat and each other, praying through clenched teeth - but we made it. Our oldest was there to welcome us. What a welcome sight! Don paid the cabbie - tipping him enough so he could get that hernia surgery he would likely need after handling our bags.
And so begins our mysterious reassignment. After moving up to Hemet (more on that in the next installment), we went to church with Kyle and Kristin. The pastor (also a Steve!) was preaching on suffering and trial. He began talking about Job and Jobs buddies. Are ya kidding me!?!? Didn't we just talk about this guy a couple of blogs ago!?!?!? Anyway, the pastor described three reasons for a trial: the discipline from a loving father to his child, the metalworker refining gold, and a gardener pruning the vine. All are painful. All are necessary. We have no doubt that God has called us here for a reason. We also are coming to know that it isn't only about us - it's about what others may learn from our experience. But it still hurts. We love our children and grandchildren, of course, but neither of us have ever been made to leave a home we love and people we utterly adore.
So, we're now in Hemet. I'll tell you more about it next time. Know that we covet your prayers! Know that you are love and appreciated!
Monday, April 11, 2011
Paradise Paused
I've been here before - in the middle of suitcases, packing boxes, and the "things" in my life that have to be categorized. Pack for California. Pack for storage. Pack for shipping. Give away. Throw away. It's always kind of interesting how the ones who don't have any personal or financial investment are the first to say "Let it all gooooo!!!" But while I am faced with the cold reality of paring down once again (the 5th time since August, 2009), it is still pretty brutal. Don and I were laughing about how there has been this slow cutting away of my once extensive wardrobe: Alejo Lane, San Diego: large walk-in closet in which I had two thirds, plus overflow into the guest room closet -> Kualapa Place, Maui: large walk-in closet shared with my husband, no overflow -> Front Street, Maui: good sized wall closet, not shared with my spouse (he had the second room closet) but with the landlord's random...stuff -> Ka'anapali Shores, Maui: a little vacation condo closet (who needs lots of clothes on vacation in Maui!?!?) in the one bedroom and a tinier one in the entry hall, that we both have to squeeze into -> Golden Village RV Park, Hemet, CA: a small closet in a motorhome that we both share. Yes, I have been paring down - culling the herd, as it were. I dunno. Feels kinda like getting a leg amputated one toe at a time. You think I exaggerate - but I reeeeeeally had some nice clothes...
Packing this place is such a nuisance - besides breaking my heart. I am packing up spices and my clay cookers and knives that we just recently found in storage. Now, the spices and cookers go back into storage, but the knives go back to Cali with me. Don't think I'll take them as carry-on. I got some very cool pots, pans, and plastic bowls from our church's yard sale a couple of months ago, and now they are gone from me until we get back here. Same with artwork. I was supposed to have a painting ready for a silent auction in May, but it just didn't happen, so I spiffed up one of my existing ones and sent it on its way. My paints and brushes are going to So Cal, too. But not all. And not the varnishes. Sheesh. See what I mean!?!?!?
But, in the midst of the chaos and nuisance and packing, are two people who are aching like all get out. We don't want to leave this place without knowing the EXACT date we will return. It's all in God's personal datebook, and He won't give us so much as a peek! But we know that this is where we belong, and we will work very hard to get back here again. Soon.
"Paradise" is such a common description of Hawaii, and it is apt in so many ways. The weather. the water, the laid back lifestyle all are a part of the mystique. But for us, paradise is is found in the people that make up our lives here. Oh, of course, the sun and the sand and the waves and the whales are all amazing to the nth degree! But what is breaking our hearts is leaving the souls that have stolen our hearts and have become our island family. There is Young at the coffee shop near where we lived at first (and would dearly love to live again!), and he immediately extended his hand in welcome and friendship. Given that he is the same age as Kyle, we have grown quite fond of him. The there's the couple who own the brokerage that Don works for, Lee and Barbara Potts with Aloha Realty (yes, shameless plug!). They have been encouraging and supportive of Don - especially with all the drama in his real estate stuff. They are truly wonderful people.
But by far, without contest, are the people of Calvary Chapel Westside. I know I have spoken of them before, but I didn't know I was going to have to say good-bye to them - even for a season. Every Sunday service, bible study, women's study, prayer service begins with worship - a time of raising our voices to the Lord in song. The three guys I remember from our first visit in 2005 - and now, of course, I know their names - Jason with his guitar and vocals is the worship leader, David plays congas and sings as well, and Cary (Kerry!?!? Care-eee?!!?!?) is the tall, quiet dude, who says barely a word, but shouts his praise to God with his awesome guitar playing. I now know that there might be Juli on keyboard and vocals, Glenn, with ukulele or guitar, Mark, Mike, or Richard on drums, Kyle with ukulele, and when she is in town, the pastor's daughter, Nicole, lifting her sweet soprano to the Lord. I love worship, and I can fool myself into thinking I sound much better than I do. But I am blessed blessed blessed by their offering.
We are also part of the early morning set-up at the park where we hold our 10:30 service. The chair-meister is Ron, who lines up the porta-pulpit and the first chair by lining up with certain trees. If he isn't there, the chairs seem to be in a free form that might be more conducive to a beach fire sing rather than church. And the Sunday school and its teachers - too wonderful. The bookstore folks - hardworking and loving. And then there's Pamela, the dedicated bookkeeper. This is what she has a her business, but she does it for our church for free. The people of this tiny and mighty church own a very big piece of our hearts. If I were to try to name all those who mean so much, I would both take up too much room and forget someone in the process. So I won't try.
But the heart of this little church - after Jesus, of course - are Pastor Steve and his beautiful bride, Kim. To say we love them is feint praise. They carry their passionate love for Christ out to the community and to their little church congregation with such generosity of spirit and tireless energy - or at least that's their attitude. I have no doubt that they face discouragement and weariness, but that never, ever stops them from doing what they do. Steve is an anointed teacher of the Word, yet has a very broad goofy streak. Kim is a gentle spirit, who stands by her husband's side and administrates much of the operations of CCW, plus teaches keiki and the women, runs the bookstore, and fills all the "pukas" (holes) that are left when there is no one to do a job. But as sweet, and gentle spirit as she is, she also has a healthy amount of SASS! Leaving them is breaking our hearts - because so many have left them before.
We're almost done packing. We are eager to see our kids and grandkids, of course. But...well, if you don't know by now...
So, now a note to our mainland friends and family: we are eager to see you, and your love is such a comfort to us, but please resist the temptation to say we are returning "home". First, our true home is not of this world, but with the Lord in Eternity. Second, our home has become this island. We live and breathe with an ease we never have before. But we love you and cherish each relationship - distance will not change that!
To our friends and church family here on Maui: we love you and you are so important to us, but please resist the temptation to be like Job's friends and think that we MUST have done something to bring this on. I have been guilty of this sooooo many times, I shudder to say. But we did all that we could. I won't detail the efforts, but suffice to say, and given all the people praying for us (or at least saying they were...... KIDDING!!!), God's voice came through loud and clear. We have to leave - for a time. Continue to pray for us, and know that we will be praying for you daily. There will also never be a Sunday morning when we don't think about the park setup or later Sunday morning and Wednesday evening when we aren't thinking of the worship being sung or the message being preached. Every Tuesday morning, we will pray with the Tuesday morning group. Every Tuesday evening, Don will think about the teaching to the men, and I will think about Kim and her women's study. And on the first Sunday of the month, we will be thinking about the food and fellowship being shared at the potluck offered by the BEST COOKS IN CHURCHDOM!! We love you with all our hearts, and cannot wait to return to you!
Only two more nights here. Don and I are going down to sit on the beach for our second-to-the-last time - this time. We sit in beach chairs and let the water come and wash over our feet, while we watch the stars and the moonlight over the waves. We pray and praise God for His artistry. We also marvel at doing this all year round!
So maybe it is paradise. And now we hit pause.
Packing this place is such a nuisance - besides breaking my heart. I am packing up spices and my clay cookers and knives that we just recently found in storage. Now, the spices and cookers go back into storage, but the knives go back to Cali with me. Don't think I'll take them as carry-on. I got some very cool pots, pans, and plastic bowls from our church's yard sale a couple of months ago, and now they are gone from me until we get back here. Same with artwork. I was supposed to have a painting ready for a silent auction in May, but it just didn't happen, so I spiffed up one of my existing ones and sent it on its way. My paints and brushes are going to So Cal, too. But not all. And not the varnishes. Sheesh. See what I mean!?!?!?
But, in the midst of the chaos and nuisance and packing, are two people who are aching like all get out. We don't want to leave this place without knowing the EXACT date we will return. It's all in God's personal datebook, and He won't give us so much as a peek! But we know that this is where we belong, and we will work very hard to get back here again. Soon.
"Paradise" is such a common description of Hawaii, and it is apt in so many ways. The weather. the water, the laid back lifestyle all are a part of the mystique. But for us, paradise is is found in the people that make up our lives here. Oh, of course, the sun and the sand and the waves and the whales are all amazing to the nth degree! But what is breaking our hearts is leaving the souls that have stolen our hearts and have become our island family. There is Young at the coffee shop near where we lived at first (and would dearly love to live again!), and he immediately extended his hand in welcome and friendship. Given that he is the same age as Kyle, we have grown quite fond of him. The there's the couple who own the brokerage that Don works for, Lee and Barbara Potts with Aloha Realty (yes, shameless plug!). They have been encouraging and supportive of Don - especially with all the drama in his real estate stuff. They are truly wonderful people.
But by far, without contest, are the people of Calvary Chapel Westside. I know I have spoken of them before, but I didn't know I was going to have to say good-bye to them - even for a season. Every Sunday service, bible study, women's study, prayer service begins with worship - a time of raising our voices to the Lord in song. The three guys I remember from our first visit in 2005 - and now, of course, I know their names - Jason with his guitar and vocals is the worship leader, David plays congas and sings as well, and Cary (Kerry!?!? Care-eee?!!?!?) is the tall, quiet dude, who says barely a word, but shouts his praise to God with his awesome guitar playing. I now know that there might be Juli on keyboard and vocals, Glenn, with ukulele or guitar, Mark, Mike, or Richard on drums, Kyle with ukulele, and when she is in town, the pastor's daughter, Nicole, lifting her sweet soprano to the Lord. I love worship, and I can fool myself into thinking I sound much better than I do. But I am blessed blessed blessed by their offering.
We are also part of the early morning set-up at the park where we hold our 10:30 service. The chair-meister is Ron, who lines up the porta-pulpit and the first chair by lining up with certain trees. If he isn't there, the chairs seem to be in a free form that might be more conducive to a beach fire sing rather than church. And the Sunday school and its teachers - too wonderful. The bookstore folks - hardworking and loving. And then there's Pamela, the dedicated bookkeeper. This is what she has a her business, but she does it for our church for free. The people of this tiny and mighty church own a very big piece of our hearts. If I were to try to name all those who mean so much, I would both take up too much room and forget someone in the process. So I won't try.
But the heart of this little church - after Jesus, of course - are Pastor Steve and his beautiful bride, Kim. To say we love them is feint praise. They carry their passionate love for Christ out to the community and to their little church congregation with such generosity of spirit and tireless energy - or at least that's their attitude. I have no doubt that they face discouragement and weariness, but that never, ever stops them from doing what they do. Steve is an anointed teacher of the Word, yet has a very broad goofy streak. Kim is a gentle spirit, who stands by her husband's side and administrates much of the operations of CCW, plus teaches keiki and the women, runs the bookstore, and fills all the "pukas" (holes) that are left when there is no one to do a job. But as sweet, and gentle spirit as she is, she also has a healthy amount of SASS! Leaving them is breaking our hearts - because so many have left them before.
We're almost done packing. We are eager to see our kids and grandkids, of course. But...well, if you don't know by now...
So, now a note to our mainland friends and family: we are eager to see you, and your love is such a comfort to us, but please resist the temptation to say we are returning "home". First, our true home is not of this world, but with the Lord in Eternity. Second, our home has become this island. We live and breathe with an ease we never have before. But we love you and cherish each relationship - distance will not change that!
To our friends and church family here on Maui: we love you and you are so important to us, but please resist the temptation to be like Job's friends and think that we MUST have done something to bring this on. I have been guilty of this sooooo many times, I shudder to say. But we did all that we could. I won't detail the efforts, but suffice to say, and given all the people praying for us (or at least saying they were...... KIDDING!!!), God's voice came through loud and clear. We have to leave - for a time. Continue to pray for us, and know that we will be praying for you daily. There will also never be a Sunday morning when we don't think about the park setup or later Sunday morning and Wednesday evening when we aren't thinking of the worship being sung or the message being preached. Every Tuesday morning, we will pray with the Tuesday morning group. Every Tuesday evening, Don will think about the teaching to the men, and I will think about Kim and her women's study. And on the first Sunday of the month, we will be thinking about the food and fellowship being shared at the potluck offered by the BEST COOKS IN CHURCHDOM!! We love you with all our hearts, and cannot wait to return to you!
Only two more nights here. Don and I are going down to sit on the beach for our second-to-the-last time - this time. We sit in beach chairs and let the water come and wash over our feet, while we watch the stars and the moonlight over the waves. We pray and praise God for His artistry. We also marvel at doing this all year round!
So maybe it is paradise. And now we hit pause.
Friday, April 8, 2011
...and God seldom answers the "Why?"
Pretty much everyone knows about Job - the fellow in the Old Testament, who was good and upright and blameless before God, and loved the Lord completely. Job was one wealthy dude, with enough sheep and goats and cattle and camels and to feed and clothe a small nation. The guy also had seven sons and three daughters. Job was blessed, and he praised the Lord for his blessings. Satan challenged God, saying that the only reason that Job loved and worshipped God is because Job was ridiculously wealthy. God told Satan that he could take it all from Job - which Satan promptly did. Job grieved but still praised God. When Satan again said that Job only praised God because he (Job) still had his health, God told Satan to do what he will, but he couldn't kill Job. I won't go into details about poor Job's icky stuff from Satan - read your bible if you want to know the gories - but suffice to say, this guy was messed up and pretty despondent, but he still praised God. Then, Job's three best buddies show up to "comfort" their friend, and promptly set about telling this totally upright guy that obviously, he must have done SOMETHING to deserve all this. Or maybe it was his kids who did a dastardly deed, and now punishment was being heaped on Job. Job continued to ask God why this was happening, considering that he was righteous. The Lord answers him by asking Job where he was in the creation of the earth and setting things in their order. In other words, God told Job that He (God) was in control, had a plan, and Job needed to trust him.
I'm not directly comparing us to Job- either in blamelessness or in misery - but, boy-oh-boy, I think I might have a bit more insight to how he may have felt. This current trial that we are dead smack in the middle of has lead us to the heartbreaking decision to return to the mainland - for a while.
The plan is for us to leave here next week and live in our motorhome in Hemet, CA, which is very near Kyle, Kristin, and the grandbabies and just an hour north of John and my mom. Fortunately, and thanks to the cyberspace age, Don will be able to still do his business both here in Hawaii and in California. I will get the last chapter-and-a-half done on my novel, then begin the process of getting an agent and publisher. OUR plan is to be back here before fall; but GOD'S plans may be different, as we all know so well.
We knew that things were getting a little harrowing and we were down to the last of the reserves while living in this little condo, but Don also still has another deal that could close anytime...maybe. It's a short sale with so much convoluted drama attached, the writers of Dynasty would find it implausible. He also has a few buyers who are poised to pull the trigger, but just need other financial things to happen in their life before they do. We knew it was scary, but we trusted in the Lord's provision.
Then came the knock on the door.
This place that we are living in is owned by a guy who hasn't made a payment for years - including the Homeowners Association, or AOAO, fees. In California, as in most states, if an owner defaults on fees, the tenant isn't responsible. Not so in Hawaii. The AOAO can demand fees from the tenant in the form of rent, and that's what the hand delivered letter told us - and quite succinctly. Given that the going rate hear is $150.00 per night, and we had checked in all the sofa cushions and shorts pockets for the spare change and bundles of hundred dollar bills possibly left by previous guests, paying up didn't seem likely. So, the decision was made.
The last few days have been pretty rough - I won't lie. We are having to explain to our dear friends here something that we don't understand ourselves. We have never been so immeshed, blessed, encouraged in such a way before. This is not to say that we weren't feeling blessed and loved and all that stuff in San Diego, but this place is different. In it's tininess, it actually does a huge ministry. We work along side people who are transplants like us or have lived on the island their whole lives. We meet people from all over the world, but we have common ground immediately in our love for Jesus Christ.
There may be some who think that we are just bailing out and leaving with our tails between our legs, or that we have some kind of choice. There are some who might think, like Job's pals, that we have done something to offend God, or we didn't pray hard enough. They are wrong. Leaving here is by far the hardest thing we have ever done. This is our home. This is where we will return, if God will allow. We have prayed until our knees have permanent rug burns. And while I know that we have offended God in our day-to-day mess-ups, I see my husband, being an upright, ethical realtor who keeps God at the heart of his behavior and dealings in a cutthroat business. I see him working all kinds of crazy hours, doing reams of paperwork and research for his clients. We're not sure what God is doing, but then again, He doesn't need to tell us. God seldom answers the "why" of our trials. We just follow and trust in His grace to get us through.
So, now the next few days will be full of packing and nuisance and tears and goodbyes and prayers. Don's car already has her cruise booked for the mainland, and our flight is on Wednesday. I'll try to convince myself that I am just enjoying the last few days of my Maui vacation...but that ain't gonna fly. This has become my home.
So, back to our friend, Job. After he lost his kids and his livestock, he tore his clothes in grief but said "I was born with nothing, and I will die with nothing. The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. May His name be praised." (1:21 GNT). Then, he gets all kinds of gnarly things done to his person, and his wife can't believe he is worshipping the same God who allowed this, he tells her, "You are talking nonsense! When God sends us something, we welcome it. How can we complain when He sends us trouble?" (2:10 GNT) So true. I still have my amazing family and a husband who loves me so much. I did nothing to earn them, and certainly didn't complain when I received these gifts. So, how can I complain when life gets hard?
I hope you will continue reading my blog. After all, Denise and Don's Big Adventure continues on!
I'm not directly comparing us to Job- either in blamelessness or in misery - but, boy-oh-boy, I think I might have a bit more insight to how he may have felt. This current trial that we are dead smack in the middle of has lead us to the heartbreaking decision to return to the mainland - for a while.
The plan is for us to leave here next week and live in our motorhome in Hemet, CA, which is very near Kyle, Kristin, and the grandbabies and just an hour north of John and my mom. Fortunately, and thanks to the cyberspace age, Don will be able to still do his business both here in Hawaii and in California. I will get the last chapter-and-a-half done on my novel, then begin the process of getting an agent and publisher. OUR plan is to be back here before fall; but GOD'S plans may be different, as we all know so well.
We knew that things were getting a little harrowing and we were down to the last of the reserves while living in this little condo, but Don also still has another deal that could close anytime...maybe. It's a short sale with so much convoluted drama attached, the writers of Dynasty would find it implausible. He also has a few buyers who are poised to pull the trigger, but just need other financial things to happen in their life before they do. We knew it was scary, but we trusted in the Lord's provision.
Then came the knock on the door.
This place that we are living in is owned by a guy who hasn't made a payment for years - including the Homeowners Association, or AOAO, fees. In California, as in most states, if an owner defaults on fees, the tenant isn't responsible. Not so in Hawaii. The AOAO can demand fees from the tenant in the form of rent, and that's what the hand delivered letter told us - and quite succinctly. Given that the going rate hear is $150.00 per night, and we had checked in all the sofa cushions and shorts pockets for the spare change and bundles of hundred dollar bills possibly left by previous guests, paying up didn't seem likely. So, the decision was made.
The last few days have been pretty rough - I won't lie. We are having to explain to our dear friends here something that we don't understand ourselves. We have never been so immeshed, blessed, encouraged in such a way before. This is not to say that we weren't feeling blessed and loved and all that stuff in San Diego, but this place is different. In it's tininess, it actually does a huge ministry. We work along side people who are transplants like us or have lived on the island their whole lives. We meet people from all over the world, but we have common ground immediately in our love for Jesus Christ.
There may be some who think that we are just bailing out and leaving with our tails between our legs, or that we have some kind of choice. There are some who might think, like Job's pals, that we have done something to offend God, or we didn't pray hard enough. They are wrong. Leaving here is by far the hardest thing we have ever done. This is our home. This is where we will return, if God will allow. We have prayed until our knees have permanent rug burns. And while I know that we have offended God in our day-to-day mess-ups, I see my husband, being an upright, ethical realtor who keeps God at the heart of his behavior and dealings in a cutthroat business. I see him working all kinds of crazy hours, doing reams of paperwork and research for his clients. We're not sure what God is doing, but then again, He doesn't need to tell us. God seldom answers the "why" of our trials. We just follow and trust in His grace to get us through.
So, now the next few days will be full of packing and nuisance and tears and goodbyes and prayers. Don's car already has her cruise booked for the mainland, and our flight is on Wednesday. I'll try to convince myself that I am just enjoying the last few days of my Maui vacation...but that ain't gonna fly. This has become my home.
So, back to our friend, Job. After he lost his kids and his livestock, he tore his clothes in grief but said "I was born with nothing, and I will die with nothing. The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. May His name be praised." (1:21 GNT). Then, he gets all kinds of gnarly things done to his person, and his wife can't believe he is worshipping the same God who allowed this, he tells her, "You are talking nonsense! When God sends us something, we welcome it. How can we complain when He sends us trouble?" (2:10 GNT) So true. I still have my amazing family and a husband who loves me so much. I did nothing to earn them, and certainly didn't complain when I received these gifts. So, how can I complain when life gets hard?
I hope you will continue reading my blog. After all, Denise and Don's Big Adventure continues on!
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