On Uncertainty (and Stink Bugs)

We have two problems at the Stock Household: 1) a recent major disappointment coupled with personal uncertainty and 2) a stink bug infestation. Let me start with the latter.

Stink bugs, according to my limited research, seek refuge inside homes while the weather is colder. They come into window cracks and fireplaces, fly around into walls and lamp shades for a day or two and then flip over and die...usually in the areas of the house where I am most prone to step on them in bare feet. Lydia loves to catch these stink bugs in her new critter catcher. She "feeds" them grass and allows them a plastic snake to "play with", then releases them into the wild (or the siding next to the windows of our house).

Onto the other more complicated, less containable problem. Some sweet friends and co-workers are not being allowed back in. There is no reason. For them, no goodbye hugs. Not even the closure of packing up their own home. We grieve and worry. And we can't help but thinking about us.

Surely we know God is in control. Surely uncertainty is something we live with and maybe, in very mature moments, embrace. But I don't like this getting so real, so close. I don't like breaking news like this to my kids.

We told the girls on Monday that their friends (four kids...like cousins to them) will not be back "home" when we go back. They won't be coming back. We might not see them again...at least for a very long time.

At first, there was crying and questions. Quickly, there was anger. Lydia didn't want to be hugged or consoled. She was on the defense. There was a wall put up. It was small, a six-year-old wall; but I could see it.

She ran to her critter catcher, at that time home to a rescued stink bug. She hugged the cage. "I'm never letting you go."

Now, my daughter was clinging for control, for stability...and yes, it was a stink bug. Isn't that exactly (minus stink bug...plus other distraction/relationship/organized kitchen spice cupboard) what I do? My wall is much bigger with plenty of bricks. Yet I suppose a coping mechanism is never too silly as long as we can quickly see the futility of it.
There has been a lot of conversation about stink bugs and Jesus at our house this week.

Cages cannot hold Him. A tomb could not keep Him. But He will never let us go. 

Swans are "Bad Guys" (and other things we learned in Mississippi)

It seems like everyone knows geese will hiss at you or maybe even give you a little nip on the arm if you get too close. But I have never known a swan to wrestle a six-year-old.

Two swans had come to the edge of the lake. I thought, what a perfect opportunity to go up and see them. My three girls and our hostess Becky walked up to these beautiful birds. By the way, swans are HUGE. Just a side note. We were a generous 10 feet away when out lunged one of the swans! He grabbed Lydia's t-shirt and (I'm not kidding) would not let go. Lydia, of course, screams and falls to the ground while the relentless swan beats his wings. Whilst holding Isabella (also screaming) and securing Molly (also screaming) I begin to kick the swan. Yes, I kicked the swan...hard. But I swear that bird did not care. He's just holding and flapping and my poor little Lydia is understandably freaked out. Finally, (probably about 5 seconds into this ordeal) Becky...sweet, grandma of five, gentile Southern Becky...grabs the swan's neck and wrestles it to the ground (again, not kidding). She pries him loose, rolls to the grass and the swan swims away. 

Lydia has some serious bruising on her legs and wounded feelings about swans in general. This is the same girl who had a juice box stolen from her hand by a monkey. She continues to LOVE animals, but I'm a little anxious about the petting zoo. 

Other things we learned in Mississippi this past week:

1. A gift is called a "happy". We received a "happy" of BBQ sauce and gave a "happy" as a hostess gift. I like it. Made me happy.

2. Mississippi has a funny and catchy state song. Google it. 

3. Roads are bad. Food is good. I'm willing to drive to the restaurants. I think that shows my economy of the situation. 

4. Mississipians make fun of Louisiana. Like Georgians make fun of Alabama. But we all know we are all just Southerners. 

5. Famous pottery made from MS mud is coveted...but genuinely cool. The Georgia red clay market is wide open as far as I'm concerned. 

Redundant

"Are we there yet?"

The great American road trip, this week in Mississippi, isn't the most fun thing. We've been in America for a month and our kids are just plain bored with the wide open spaces: grass, suburbs, parking lots, the back of the mini van.

We do get to see friends, meet new people and see new places. That's fun. There are new sleep-over spots, cereal choices and playgrounds in new cities. But for all that "new", there is certainly a lot of redundancy. Back in the car. Back on the highway. And where are all the people, the cows, the cars? Where's the "what in the world are they carrying on that motorbike?" and "Did you see that?"?

I admit, compared to the chaos and crowded streets we are used to, America is boring. It's cruise-control-redundant.

And so here I am missing the things I never thought I would: the traffic, the crowds, the chaos. Am I crazy with nostalgia? Maybe. But maybe that's one of the things I have come to love about living in a city with millions, surprising variety and frustrating inconsistency. We never grow bored (and on the flip side, never completely comfortable) with the everyday.

With all this travel, the questions from the backseat get redundant. Even a trip to the grocery store is boredom inducing. I'd like to say I'm patiently comforting my children with every "How many more minutes? This seems like FOREVER!" that comes my way, but I am not. The best I usually do is, "I know kiddo. Try to be patient."

[Here's where I compare God with chaos and traffic]

During one of these trips, my mind wandered into wondering if this is how I go about my relationship with God....zooming past on cruise control, from point A to point B. When I living out my week I get bored. In between events or moments or experiences, I wonder, "Are we there yet?"

So I wonder, does God have to jazz it up a little? Throw in a couple of ridiculous typos to catch my attention? A cow. Five people on one motorcycle. Blue chickens (seriously saw this one time)?


The problem, however is not God. Nor was it Mississippi on our road trip or the fact that in America, you have to drive across vast parking lots just to buy a non-blue chicken. The problem is [every Reformed pastor's favorite zinger] me. Here I go, zooming past. Getting bored. Thinking this living and active and amazing God is redundant. I reinvent Him. I jazz Him up. But mostly I wait impatiently (not eagerly) and wastefully. And I do it over and over again, redundant as the Spirit of the Living God makes mercies new every morning. I don't live in Him the way He invites me to do...starring out the window, asking around "Did you see that?" and falling more and more in love with all that He is.