There are a few days left of August, which means I can throw in a few more blogs before the month is completely lost. I'll have a lot to talk about after this weekend, but for now life has settled into a gentle sort of uneventfulness.
It's been an easier week for me. Only one farm visit and Dad has been working out of the local office, which has allowed me to come back home and work on things. Like reading my Bible. I think I mentioned that in the last post. But I love that.
I'm drinking coffee and it's raining. I love that too. I'm finding my way around town better now. I've found a couple short cuts that can get me across the main part of town in 5 minutes. I know I should know how to get places on account I grew up here.. but I only had my license for one year before I moved away. My short cut this morning found me facing a very large puddle right where i needed to go... I think it was at least a foot deep.... as if Storm Lake had crawled out of the drainage system and decided to make it's home on the road... I thought about turning around and finding an alternative route... but that seemed like too much work.
But it reminded me of the time my good friend's basement flooded. I don't think I ever told you about that day.. but it was by far one of my favorite days of the whole summer. I mean... I felt really bad for them with their house having 6ft of water floating around in it.. but my cousins and I got to clean up, and my heart was loved by Jesus through that.
I think I've said before, that one of my favorite things about My Mennonites is their culture. They all know each other and they drop everything for each other if something comes up. Not that people around here don't do that... but even little things like being stuck in a ditch or something...they show up for that.
And it just so happened that on flood clean up day, I had two cousins and a day off from work and we were told we were welcome to help out. It was so fun! We spent hours covered in mud sludge and sweat whilst we carried things out of the basement. People came and people went, but everyone worked with a cheerful attitude and made a good day of it.
I think my favorite thing was watching my friend's mom navigate her way through the mess barefooted and in a long jean skirt. Just because it was the definition of all the grace I should like to have when I grow up in my faith. She looked nice, she looked like she was wearing nice clothes, but she worked through the mud sludge and sweat like the rest of us and probably worked harder than the rest of us too. I want to learn to be like that. I really can't think of any better word for describing that other than 'grace'.
In fact, other Mennonite ladies showed up and looked just as nice, dresses, skirts.. not a hair out of place on the top of their heads... but they got their hands dirty and their clothes dirty and their white socks turned black... but they didn't seem to mind. I think their dress code is another display of freedom that I admire. They always dress nice.. the ladies do. Which makes them free to welcome people into their homes at a moments notice. Free to look nice and do hard work at the same time.
As we pulled muddy box after water log couch after ruined carpet after soaked book out of the basement, filling our arms with whatever the sweet ladies handed us, I couldn't help but think, "If ever this group of ladies were to sit around and sip coffee and talk about Jesus... I'd want to be there."
I've moved far away now, obviously. And perhaps such an opportunity has already been lost. But I, at least, have comfort in knowing that it is not impossible to be the Proverbs 31 woman, nor is it impossible to be strong and brave and beautiful all at once either. I never lived in that house, nor do I have too much of an emotional attachment to it, but the night my friend sent me snap chat pictures of all the flooding, I cried. Because my heart broke for them. But they didn't cry. They gave their thanks to the Lord and did work like they do. Some day, my heart shall grow like that. To be strong and brave and beautiful.
I loved that day because the Lord was there. And I dearly love to be where the Lord is. He showed up in the hearts of the people and he came in the form of joy. He came in the form of grace and in the form of comfort and hope. He came as a teacher, showing me and my sweet cousins how wonderful community is when done right. He came in the form of delight and adventure... which was that day to us.
I think if I was brave, I'd probably thank them for letting me be there. But I don't think I'd know how to put it into words. There's a lot of things that are mundane and everyday to them, My Mennonites. They do a lot of things without second thoughts.. but they touch me in the deepest places of my heart and remind me that the Lord is writing my story and decorating it with adventure. God uses these sweet people to love me into the places of my heart that are usually skeptical of the existence of good things.
But God is good. And he makes my heart feel loved by displaying His goodness. A flooded basement and damaged mementos and possessions does not look like a good thing to the world. It probably didn't feel like a good thing to my friend's family. Probably was more like a trial to them. But it still showed that God was good. God is faithful and kind and loves us through hard things.
I think it's one of those things that I'll just ask the Lord to show them when they get to heaven. I hope the Lord takes them back to that day and says, "Look, what you didn't see when you had to throw away all of those good things I had blessed you with, was that there were some very young impressionable girls whose hearts came alive to see you press through it. I planted big and important things in their hearts that day and I used you, personally, to do it. You furthered my kingdom that day and you will receive a crown for it." The Lord will say it better than I can imagine, on account He comprehends how that day touched mine and my cousin's hearts more than I can.
All I know was, that was a day that the Lord's goodness was too much for my heart to hold and it broke my heart so it could be loved in a new capacity.
Look for those days, guys. If you surrender your heart to being loved, you will be loved in the craziest ways.
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