My Experience with Camping

      Camping is a word that stirs up mixed emotions for me. I love the idea of it! But I haven't quite mastered the execution of it.

      I grew up in the beautiful Missouri countryside, in the hills that parallel the Mississippi River. My family's property has a native prairie bursting with wildflowers, woods with a bubbling creek, and a tear-shaped pond with a large dike. Not far away, from Oak Ridge Cemetery, one can get a scenic view of the area. The rolling hills are lush in summer and colorful in the fall. Mist often blankets the area under the pale moonlight of the humid nighttime.

     I love the outdoors.

     But when it comes to camping, my experience has been tumultuous. The first time my wife and I went camping together, we went to Caprock Canyon State Park. It was going pretty well, up until the last night. A massive Texas thunderstorm blew in.

     One of our friends that came with us had only brought a camping hammock to sleep in. As the storm front blew in and the wind started to roar, I could just picture that hammock going in circles and wrapping him up like a burrito. I told him to come inside our pop-up tent.

     What I didn't know about our friend was that he struggled with anxiety and one of the things that triggered it was lightning. We ended up running to our cars because the storm got so bad. Right after we got inside, lightning exploded in front of us. Next to us, our friend's car started flashing its lights and I thought I heard its horn blaring through the thunder. It wasn't until later that I realized our friend was having a panic attack in his car and was trying to get our attention.

     It was quite the experience.

     This last time we went camping was just a few days ago. We left Tuesday morning with some of our teammates for the Northwest Mission. We stayed two nights, leaving on Thursday morning. Camping itself was a lot of fun! It did rain on us the first day, and our tents leaked unexpectedly, but it wasn't bad. And because it happened during the daytime, we were able to get everything dried out before bed.

      It was the drive back on Thursday that threatened to sour our trip. We rode with two of our teammates in their truck, which ended up overheating on us. We had to pull over three different times to tinker with things. To make matters more frustrating we were only about an hour from home. What should have been a simple hour and forty minute drive turned into a six hour crawl. In the end, we left the truck on the parking lot of a Baptist church building (we called to get their permission) and had to get picked up - luggage, dogs, weary attitudes and all - by a friend from back home.

     In the moment, those camping trips were stressful, exhausting, and frustrating. But despite those emotions, we also knew that they would make memories we could look back on with our friends, talk about, and laugh over.

     Camping stirs up mixed emotions for me because I've grown suspicious of what will happen. It's not the same way of enjoying the outdoors as actually living in the countryside. Each time we've ended up leaving the experience wet, hot, stressed, tired, and bitten up by bugs. But in each difficulty that arose, we've grown closer to friends and deepened relationships. I learned about our friend's anxiety and grew closer to him because of it. I helped tinker with an overheated car engine (something I know nothing about) and watched my teammate show incredible patience and perseverance in a situation that might cause others to curse. My respect for him only deepened.

     Next time we have an opportunity to camp with friends, I'm going to leap at the chance. Howbeit it guardedly.

Don't Forget Your Father!

     Today is Father's Day and it was all I could do to crawl out of bed this morning. For the past two days, Roberta has been fighting off a sore throat and other sickly symptoms. Last night, I thought I might be coming down with what she had. When I woke up this morning, I was in a daze and felt off. I actually got up to try and start my day but ended up returning to bed, where Roberta lay recovering from her sickness.

     I felt myself becoming more and more irritable inside. I ignored the clock and skipped Sunday morning assembly. Roberta got up while I continued to lay in bed.

     It didn't take long for me to realize I wasn't actually getting sick. That daze I felt wasn't an oncoming fever but an emotional disconnect from my surroundings. My stomach being off wasn't the start of nausea but me internalizing the feelings of disappointment and dissatisfaction. 

     I just really missed my family, and I didn't like how my day was starting. I wanted to be in Missouri today celebrating Father's Day with my dad and my grandfather, not stuck in a messy house with my sick wife. 

     In short, I was pouting. 

     But my wife wouldn't let me. After I finally got up to eat something, she came over with her Bible and asked me if I wanted to read with her. 

     I told her I would listen to her read. 

     So, despite her sniffles and having to pause to blow her nose, she read from the Psalms. And despite not really wanting to, I heard snippets of how deeply God cares for us. I realized how silly I was acting. 

     We opened the AIM app on our phones and sang songs of praise together. I got up, grabbed some unleavened bread and wine from the fridge, and we ate and drank in remembrance of Jesus Christ. We prayed together and thanked God for His goodness. 

     

     One thing that struck me was that, although I would have liked to have spent this day with my father and grandfather, I still got to spend it celebrating my Father. 

     "Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights, with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning." - James 1:17

     God has given me so many good and perfect gifts. A godly wife, a loving father, a gentle grandfather, to name but a few. But, He is ultimately the Father of them all. I can't truly appreciate my loved ones as the blessings they are until I first acknowledge the Father who gave them.

     I'm so thankful for my dad and my grandfather. I desire a joyful day and coming year for them both. 

     But.

     May we also remember our Father as we have a very happy Father's Day.

We Wrestle

     Roberta and I were talking this morning about how Satan works. She referenced something her sister told her that really stuck out.

     "I wish more spouses realized that when they're fighting, they're not actually fighting with each other. You know, because we wrestle not against flesh and blood. I just wish we remembered just how real the spiritual world is as we go about our day."

     What Roberta meant by that is how we as spouses fight. Because it's how we fight that determines who we're fighting against. If we lash out in anger and become increasingly irritable towards each other, then we do indeed end up fighting against each other. Two spirits striving against one another in the flesh. The result is only hurt and insecurity.

     But, if we fight fair. If we recognize our emotions and navigate them with each other, we end up fighting the one who wants to ensnare us both.

     Satan is very real and very powerful. It's an intimidating thought to me that Paul said it takes the whole armor of God to be able to stand against the wiles of the devil (Eph. 6:11-12). It takes the whole armor. All of it. Truth. Righteousness. The gospel of peace. Faith. Salvation. And the Spirit. As I think about it, that's some serious spiritual firepower!

     Apparently we need it, though, because we're up against one tough spiritual foe.

     So, today, may our spirits not grow weary or lazy. May we not be complacent or unaware. Rather, may we "be strong in the Lord, and in the power of His might." (Eph. 6:10)

     

How I Despise God's Goodness

     I'm in a confusing chapter of my life. I'm doing something that seems contrary to everything I've known about financial stewardship. My father is a CFO and did an excellent job instilling in me a deep desire to earn money, give generously, save religiously, and invest confidently - in that order.

     

     Then God led me to pursue ministry.

     Now, Roberta and I are currently raising support to do mission work with a team of three other couples in West Seattle, WA. I smile as I write this because it doesn't feel at all like we're the ones raising support. God has been providing for us in ways that are blowing me away and, quite frankly, scaring me. 

     In the past I struggled with doubting God because I didn't know where (or even if) He was leading me. It's a weird thing, now, to doubt God because I can clearly see where He's leading.  

     A lot of that doubt ties into this daily feeling I have that Roberta and I are on a ship with no helm. Our sails are taking us wherever the wind blows. An example of this would be our finances. 

   
     I love earning money, not asking others for it. I love giving generously, not being reliant on the giving of others so I in turn can give. I love adding to my savings, not subtracting from it because support failed to come on time. And I feel like a failure when it comes to investing; I think I've invested about 300 dollars over the past 2 years. 

     The problem with the above paragraph is that there's a lot of "I love". The underlying implication is obvious, but so hard for me to stomach. I hide my love for being in control with a rationalization that I'm practicing wise stewardship. 

     Like I said earlier, my father has done an excellent job exemplifying for me wise stewardship and the principles of money management. But what I forgot when it comes to myself is that being a steward implies working for a King. Being a manager implies working for a Superior.    

     It's taken repeated moments of being humbled both by the generosity and the thoughtlessness of others to realize this. Sometimes I've felt borderline spoiled. Other times I've felt forgotten. But every time, God has provided. 

     Because there's been a clash between me wanting to be in control and God actually being in control, a question straight from the word keeps haunting my thoughts. 

     "Or do you despise the riches of His goodness and forbearance and longsuffering; not knowing that the goodness of God leads you to repentance?" - Romans 2:4

     The context of this verse comes in the midst of Paul critiquing those in the Roman church that are quick to judge others for sins committed while simultaneously ignoring their own sins. There were those in the church that wanted to play judge, jury, and executioner, but in a courtroom with no mirrors. Paul had to restore order to the court by reminding everyone that, "the judgment of God is according to truth against them which commit such things." (2:2).

     I find myself wondering how a question from that context keeps popping up in the midst of what I'm feeling.

     I ask myself, "How can I possibly despise something like God's goodness? How can I not know that such goodness leads me to repentance?" 

     Then it hits me. 

     Gratitude, or a lack of thereof. 

     Gratitude is the realization of how good others have been towards me. And no one has shown more goodness to me than God. Oftentimes, how He does that is through the people He has placed in my life. A way in which I can despise God's goodness, then, is ungratefulness.  

     I often pause before eating a meal and bless God for providing me with food. But, why don't I pause and gratefully bless Him when it comes to other forms of provision, especially when it comes to the people He has placed in my life and the things they do for me? 

     Already, taking time to pause and bless God has stirred in me a different attitude and a new perspective. What normally would be a dull errand for me like depositing a check or washing dishes becomes an opportunity to acknowledge God's goodness. Even something like having an argument with my wife changes.

     I deposited a check because He has connected me to people that are eager to support the proclamation of the gospel in the Northwest. I washed dishes because He has provided not only food but a kitchen for cooking the food and cleaning up afterwards. I had an argument with my wife because I forgot that I've been blessed with a wife, and I failed to lead the disagreement tenderly and patiently like a good husband should.

     

     This blog is just one of many ways I'm trying to better implement gratitude towards God. I really want family, friends, supporters, and anyone interested enough to read this post to know, first and foremost, how good God is. I'll also be sharing what's going on in my and Roberta's life in the hopes of letting you all know how you deeply you impact us and how much you all mean to us.

     With Gratitude,

          Nathaniel and Roberta