The Fox

Ted had a picture hanging over his desk that hangs over mine now. A pack of hunting dogs is racing to catch a fox. Right smack in the middle of the pack is the fox himself.  ....blending in.  The "fox" in our midst may be a twisted perception of God's true meaning of scripture as it personally applies to us.

Both Ted and I were emotionally bruised and battered 20-year olds when we came to Christ and entered immediately into ministry. We left our past behind.  Isn't that what scripture says to do?  I told you last week that finally the hurt from not really sharing emotional intimacy with my husband surfaced enough that dear friends insisted that we go to a counselor who worked only with missionaries, pastors and full-time workers who are so very practiced at masking our own pain. Those we serve cry so much louder that we cannot hear our own whimpers. ...and isn't there a scripture that tells us not to murmur? ...or whimper?   My "murmuring" leaked out in the form of sleeplessness and body pain from repressed anger.  The choices I had to make between ministry alongside my husband and staying home with our children emotionally tore at my soul.  I had to be Ted's helpmate, didn't I?  I was a musician by trade, was given the gift of hospitality and mercy and aren't we supposed to "stir up the gifts"?  I stirred them far too fervently when our children were growing up.

Our salary in our Bakersfield church could not possibly cover the college educations of three children.  This mama finally became angry when a missionary couple asked Ted for monies to pay their firstborn's college tuition and I did not have any money at all to send to our own firstborn. ...but whom could I tell? Some of my best friend's husbands were on our Board. We simply left,  leaving a congregation that probably felt abandoned.  Only a few years ago I found a letter Ted had written to the Board that he had written a year before we left that church, asking for a raise in pay.  I know in my heart that he never submitted it to them.  The brutality with which Ted was raised shut him down emotionally from the time he was barely a toddler.  He had no words for the pain, but his little soul made some decisions:  "When I grow up no one will speak of anything that is not positive; no one will know what I am really feeling; no child of mine will ever be hit or even spanked and no one will ever raise their voice in anger".   In later years he said to many: "I just forbade my wife, my family and myself to be real." 

I know that all three of our children will be in Heaven, and one already is. When Doug was an adolescent he said to his dad after Ted read to him the story of Abraham and Isaac:  "Daddy, I feel like Isaac."  For him to reveal his feelings must have meant that he felt more safety with us than neither Ted nor I felt with our parents,  but it still breaks my heart for my little boy as I write.  No wonder, as an adult he followed his dad to Texas, then back to California, then to Heaven.  Kindly do not take it upon yourself to preach me any sermons about what I just said.  I am a mother; we mothers do not always think rationally.

Years ago when I was the token woman speaker for the Torrey Conference at Biola/Talbot Seminary I barely got any sleep the entire week because of being sought out by the missionary's children who needed to talk and cry about being sent to a mission school that left them bereft of parents. I have counseled adults whose parents were with an oil company in foreign lands. They too were sent away from home for school at an early age. ...with heartbreaking consequences. ...and ever so many dads and moms put their careers ahead of parenting.  Oh, dear Lord,  may the children of such not be bitter against You.

Some of my Ted's most courageous acts ...and there were many,  were bravely speaking in front of crowds when he was  by nature so very shy.  Now that I am thinking about that more clearly I understand why he never grieved a minute about leaving our last two pastorates.  He was so at home in a small group and discipling individuals and couples. The Lord graced him by releasing him to do that.  He courageously went to a Christian counselor who took him below the water line  (Refer to last week's blog: "The Iceberg").  In his 50's he commuted for years to California to receive his Doctorate in Family Counseling.  He formed our own mission,  Family Life Resources, under which I continue to minister.  The greatest evidence of his courage was that his faith in Christ never failed. ...to the very end.

Dear readers, you have journeyed with me to my childhood on an east Kansas farm, to Billy Graham's school in Minneapolis, to Dallas Seminary, Palo Alto, California, Bakersfield, the Middle East, Africa, East and Southeast Asia, California, Houston, Texas and Bear Valley, and now beneath the waterline.  Will you continue to journey with me?  Our Lord, in His great mercy for two little kids like us who hid 90% of our real selves beneath the iceberg because we thought we were supposed to,  is faithful.  ...and have you noted that the Lord is very "economical"?  He uses everything for His ultimate glory.

Marvelous grace of our loving Lord
Grace that exceeds our sin and our guilt
Yonder on Calvary's mount outpoured
There where the blood of the Lamb was spilt

GRACE, GRACE, GOD'S GRACE
GRACE THAT WILL PARDON AND CLEANSE WITHIN
GRACE, GRACE, GOD'S GRACE
GRACE THAT IS GREATER THAN ALL OUR SIN.

Love, Jo