Marriage, Ex-Pat Life and Other Stuff. . .

Sometimes I feel like I'm riding waves. A little over a month ago, I wrote that I could now breathe the "sweet, clean air" and that I no longer felt like "jumping ship" and how I was so happy that we had made it through a difficult period of transition. Shortly after I wrote that post, even simple communication with Kevin became a struggle. Nothing was going my way and I wasn't feeling good and all I wanted to do was buy plane tickets for a trip home in May. I was so deadset on doing it that I didn't care about anything else, including and especially, the other half of my marriage. Running back to familiarity and comfort seemed like the most logical solution and I just knew it would make me feel better. We had a really great vacation together, but at times, there was just a heaviness pressing in on us. Marriage just wasn't "feeling" fun. One night I was sitting at the computer after Kevin had gone to bed. A very dear friend (who happens to live on the complete opposite side of the world), sent me a Skype message and we began to "talk". For the next hour, we "talked". She's been through a lot more ex-pat life than I have and some of her insight and encouragement has been priceless. She asked me some really tough questions. She prayed for me. She prayed for my husband and our marriage. Then she encouraged me that some of the tough stuff I'm feeling and experiencing is very "normal". I am normal. She also reminded me that God gives me the freedom to come to him and cry and be sad and lonely and to be real and honest. I was so encouraged when I went to bed around 2am. I hugged my husband a little tighter. The night we returned from vacation, another friend asked me some tough questions regarding my desire to go home. She's also had more ex-pat experience than me and her wisdom and insight has also been priceless. As she asked me questions and shared some things with me I wanted to crawl in a hole. Some things she said were almost identical to what my other friend had said. A song that I've loved for years came to my mind and the words have been in my head every day for a few weeks now. Sara Groves wrote a song from the perspective of an Israelite who had left Egypt with Moses. As you can imagine, the Israelites were so excited that Pharoah had finally let them go. They were free! However, after years and years of wandering in the desert, people were complaining and wishing they'd never left Egypt. They were so consumed with those thoughts that they forgot about the journey they were on. She wrote a song called, "Painting Pictures of Egypt" and the words are so powerful to me:

I don't want to leave here, I don't want to stay, it feels like pinching to me either way.

The places I long for the most are the places where I've been. They are calling after me like a long lost friend.

It's not about losing faith, it's not about trust, it's all about comfortable when you move so much. The place I was wasn't perfect but I had found a way to live. It wasn't milk or honey but then neither is this.

I've been painting pictures of Egypt, leaving out what it lacks. The future feels so hard and I want to go back. But the places that used to fit me cannot hold the things I've learned, and those roads were closed off to me while my back was turned.

The past is so tangible, I know it by heart, familiar things are never easy to discard. I was longing for some freedom, but now I hesitate to go, I am caught between the promise and the things I know.
I've been painting pictures of Egypt, leaving out what it lacks. The future feels so hard and I want to go back. But the places that used to fit me cannot hold the things I've learned, and those roads were closed off to me while my back was turned.

I started to realize that going home (whatever that is), isn't going to "fix" how I'm feeling. I can't run away from here and I don't want to. Sometimes the future just feels so hard and I want to go back to what was familiar and what felt good. I want to go back to a time when day-to-day living wasn't so difficult. As I thought about my feelings and what I really wanted, I remembered how strongly I felt a year ago about leaving. I knew without a doubt that we were supposed to move here. I was excited! I was ready! Maybe I was a little naive, but I was certain, along with my husband that we were about to embark on an incredible journey. Sometimes I'm "caught between" what I know is familiar and the promise of God that if I follow him, I won't be disappointed.

The day that I made the decision not to go home, Kevin and I listened to a sermon by Andy Stanley from Northpoint Ministries. I highly, highly, highly recommend his audio sermons if you want something to listen to. We started a series called iMarriage and the truth of his messages has impacted me greatly over the last couple of weeks. We all come into marriage with desires and hopes and dreams but somewhere between the altar and the reception, or the altar and the honeymoon, or the altar and the first year of marriage, those desires and hopes and dreams somehow become expectations. He ended his first sermon with this question, "What does your spouse owe you?" and challenged us to think about it until the next sermon. His answer was, "Your spouse doesn't owe you anything." I was thinking to myself, Yes! (along with a fist pump). I knew that was the answer! As quickly as the pride entered my mind, it was followed by a convicting thought, Sure, you know the right answer Sandi, but do you really live like you believe that's the answer? Do you really live your life like your husband doesn't owe you anything?? The sad truth to those questions is that I've been living, especially this past year, like Kevin owes me something and worse, like God owes me something. I think part of it is just not really knowing what I want or need and wanting him to fill that, and part of it is just me being awfully selfish. Disgustingly selfish. Some days I care so much about me that I forget I have another half. I forget that this world wasn't created for me. I forget that there's more to this life than me. So I started thinking about ways I could give to my husband. He had left town for a few days and I started a list of a few things I could do for him while he was gone. Things that would bless him. Things that would make him smile and make him feel loved. I gased up the car. I had the oil changed too. I made him chocolate chip cookies. I added up all our receipts from our vacation so he could see exactly where our money had gone. I prayed for him, specifially prayed for his work and his relationships and his mind. I spent time doing things for him and in the process, thought a lot less about me. A funny thing happened, I began to have some better days. It really is more blessed to give than to receive. In giving to him, I feel like I received something in the process. I received joy and peace and I felt good. I spent a lot of time alone while he was gone. Instead of spending hours on the computer, I laid in bed, just thinking about my time here, thinking about my marriage, my role as a friend to other women, and my role as Emma's mommy. Some days I feel like I'm riding waves. When I'm riding a good one, it's really good. When I fall down though, it just really stinks. I'm not sure if what I'm experiencing is because I'm living in a foreign country or if it's just part of married life. Emotions have certainly been magnified over the last year. I realized a few things over the last several weeks. I have a lot of control over my reactions and my thoughts. I can choose to respond to situations as one who loves others more than myself, or I can choose to respond very selfishly. The latter doesn't usually feel like love to anyone, including myself.

Another part of Andy Stanley's message that impacted me was his point that we should conduct our marriage in the shadow of the cross of Jesus Christ. Christ died for me and if I want to say thank you to Him, one of the best ways I can pour out my gratitude to Him is through loving my spouse, whether I think he deserves it or not. Not just when I feel like it, not because he does something great for me, but because Christ did that for me. God gave me Kevin as a tangible way to experience just a little bit of how great His love is for me. When I think that God gave me to Kevin to show him the same great love, I'm sad because I know I haven't done a very great job at showing him love lately. God has chosen me to be a reflection of His love for Kevin. I really want to be a better vessel for Him to use.

There's a verse in the Bible, Proverbs 27:15, that says, "A quarrelsome wife is like a constant dripping on a rainy day; restraining her is like restraining the wind or grasping oil with the hand." I'd prefer to be thought of as the wife of noble character, like in Proverbs 31:26 "She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue.", but because of the way I've been behaving, I'm pretty sure the "constant dripping" is a better description!! Oh man, I've got a long ways to go. I'm thankful for the last few weeks though. I'm thankful for my time alone with God. I'm thankful that though I recognize where I am, I also recognize that I don't have to stay in this place (emotionally speaking. . . physically, I'm pretty sure I have to stay in Brazil, at least for two more years, I think). My communication with Kevin has been better. We're working harder to love each other and understand each other. We've both agreed that this has been the most difficult year of our marriage. We're not sure if it's the eighth year of marriage or the move or other factors, but we're recognizing that things are different. We're thankful that we've commited to walking through this together, even when it doesn't feel very good. And we're very happy when things do feel good!! The other day I asked Kevin if he thought I was bi-polar. He hesitated (bad move), and then asked, "What exactly is bi-polar?" After I explained it (a mental disorder characterized by mania and depression), he hesistated again (and again, bad move) and I think I wanted to hit him. Yes, I'm slightly bipolar. I realized today that when the days are good here, they're really good, but when they're bad, they just stink. Instead of thinking that I'm losing it, today I decided that I'm going to ride the good waves and enjoy the good days. When the harder days come (like when I miss my family so badly or when I feel so lonely I want to cry), I'm just going to accept them as part of this experience. I feel like God has given me the freedom to laugh some days and cry some days (Ecc. 3:4), so that's what I'm going to do. Today's a day that I'm choosing to smile. Tomorrow will be dealt with tomorrow.