Living in the Tension of What is Unseen

I think I alluded to this a post or two ago, but I've been feeling a lot less about our current situation.  Not feeling better...not feeling worse...just...not feeling.  I'm okay with it, although it's a little weird. Sometimes I wonder if I'm just numb or resigned.  I don't think so, but I do wonder.

In any event, it's getting easier to accept what's going to happen in five weeks.  Last night, Mr. Squire and I sat on the couch after work and just talked.  I was happily surprised that he had the energy and mental space to do so, since he is usually a grunting zombie by the end of any given school day.  I asked him whether he would miss the kids, and he said no.  I corrected him, and said that with time, he would reach a point of healing where he would miss the kids.  I know I'm right.

I then asked him if, at the very least, he could leave his school saying that he was proud of the work he did there.  I already know that I'm very proud of the work he has done, but it matters to me that he also sees the value in what he has accomplished over the past two years.  I was relieved to hear him say that yes, he gave it his all, and he stood by his work at this school.  I nodded in agreement and we silently looked ahead into space, remembering.

When we closed the day in prayer, I prayed for all the kids he's leaving behind... for their futures, and for others to pick up the work where Mr. Squire left off, and for them to carry it on well.  These kids need protection.  They need nurturing.  They need a LOT of love.  They are just kids, but many of them know way more than they ought to about gangs, prison, prison rape, death, drugs, and abuse.  We've dealt with late-night phone calls about molestation.  A parent being stabbed to death on the street.  A parent being released from prison.  Absent parents.  These kids are just kids.  But they're not just any kids. They're young black boys who are (mostly) adorable, bright, and promising.  But unless they are provided the right opportunities and supported in the right way, a number of them will be at risk of a devastating future.  I have loved being part of this mission, and finally I'm able to pray about those we leave behind without crying.  Part of that is God working on my heart to help pull me away from this work.  Part of that is God working on my heart to help me understand who He is.  He doesn't need us here.  He can use all sorts of people.  I pray that He does.  

And as for us?  I hope Mr. Squire returns to teaching one day.  Perhaps in the future, perhaps after we've raised our own kids.  Perhaps in another place, at another time.  If not now, then later.  If not our way, then another way.  

* * *

I received the following message from my dear sister C a couple days ago.  Her thoughts and words moved me, as they are consistent with what we've been hearing in the sermons lately, and from other godly counselors in our lives.  I felt God speaking to me through her, saying:

Your situation reminds me of Moses during his wandering period.  He thought God had called him to be the leader of his people.  After all, hadn't God saved him from birth miraculously through the little river cradle and had the Egyptian princess of all people adopt him so he could learn everything he needed to be a good leader?  Why then was he stuck in the middle of nowhere in Midian, tending sheep like some hermit, cast out from Egypt and isolated from his people?  What was all that for?  I forget exactly, but I believe Moses spent the majority of his life doing nothing more than humbly tending sheep.  I think he was called by God through the burning bush until he was 80 years old.  80 years old?!  That's retirement age--not time for your 'real' career to start. 

So what was it all for?  Why the long period of 'fallowness'?  I think it has something to do with the shaping of Moses' heart.  It says that Moses was the most humble man who ever lived.  I'm pretty sure being 'forgotten' in the wilderness doing nothing more important than tending sheep for 40+ years will rub away a lot of pride.  I suppose he was learning to wait on God.  That what matters to God is his heart more so than his actions.  That God desires obedience more than sacrifice, a contrite and broken heart more than external acts.  And then, after learning this hardest of all lessons, he was indeed ready for the task.
I don't know what exactly God is preparing you and [Mr. Squire] for.  But I know it is something good and purposeful--even when it looks like nothing but wilderness wanderings.  I've been praying for you and will keep praying for you.  This is the hardest part of faith--living in the tension of what is unseen.

* * *

So...God is shaping our hearts, huh?  That sounds right.  I've always been a ten-year plan kind of gal.  Goes right along with my type-A, semi-OCD personality.  Gotta have my grubby little hands on every little detail and have things just so.  And now? Well...when people ask me how long I plan to stay at my job, or where we're going to live in five years, where we'll raise our kids, what I want to do with the rest of my life...well... I just say, "I have no idea.  We'll see what God does."  Right now I say that out of sheer helplessness.  But maybe, one day, as a result of all of this (and more), I'll say it by choice.