I wanna be like mike

A number of times this past week, my brother (in-law) has come to mind. I've written this to him, but like any good little sister, I tend to brag about this kid a lot. For those of you that might be coming to the party a little late, Mike basically joined our family when I was in eighth grade; at least that's when he started dating my sister. Which is why when I refer to him, I say brother; because there's nothing the legality of his marriage to my sister gave me that I didn't already have. 

Today, while skimming through Instagram, a comment on a photo quoted the ever annoying song from the Disney ride "carousel of progress". As you know, our family visits Disney quite often and on one such trip, myself and the Gordons found ourselves trapped in said ride. The song kept playing but the seats never moved. It was a running joke the rest of the trip, and subsequently any time we end up in tomorrowland. Why does any of that matter? It's one of this times that I can look at and know that mike isn't just a guy I'm stuck seeing for the rest of my life because he married my sister. This is a guy that I laugh with, I share jokes with; he's my friend. On our vacation last summer, he and I spent some time jumping waves out in the ocean while the rest of the family sunbathed. He brought me to tears as he shared how he saw Christ in me and how faithful I was. Because he's the kind of guy who's opinion matters. Because those aren't words he throws around lightly. Because when a friend speaks life into you, you take notice. 

Earlier this week, I read the article in "Relationships", Young Life's magazine, about Aaron Rogers. I read with tear filled eyes (catch the pattern yet?) as he talked about his leader and his leader talked about him. For those that don't know, Mike is the athletic trainer at an all boys high school in Cincinnati. Professionally, he's amazing. He speaks at seminars, has college interns, has a side gig with a professional sporting team. And yet, I bet if you asked him, he would say the best part of what he does is the relationships he gets the opportunity to build with high school guys. Now some of these kids are super weird, and some go on to play in the NFL (he's got two before tonight's draft). And I know that mike loves them all (even when it makes him pull his hair out). I don't actually know any of the guys personally (because if we are honest, that would be weird), but the words Aaron spoke in that article about how well loved he was; those words were familiar. You see, I was friends with a group of younger guys in high school that were so well loved and challenged by their leader. His name, Mike Gordon. They still crowd into his living room every so often to catch up with him, all these years later. 

As I was thinking about our vacation last summer, I couldn't help but be reminded of the joy I get watching him love my sister well. Most of you probably know, but due to her MS, Sara doesn't have the best eye sight. When we were on the beach for vacation, or laying poolside, if you had looked over, you'd have found mike reading. Aloud. To his wife. Myself, my mom, and the Gordons were playing in the ocean last summer and little schools of bright silver fish would swirl around us. They were too small and too quick and Sara couldn't ever see them. So the next school that swam by, Mike "herded" with his hands; slapping the water to influence their direction. He would move around Sara so that the fish would swim all around her, so that she could share in this beautiful sight.  Soon we all became fish herders; we probably looked like fools, but loving fools for sure. 

I know I'm beyond blessed because of this man. He's the second coolest man I know (after pops of course). So if this seemed a bit gooshy or off topic, I challenge you to spend time with this dude and not want to brag about him. He never would, despite all that he could brag about; that's just not the Mike I know. Instead, he will spend the time that most would spend boosting themselves up, boosting you up. Whenever I FaceTime with Sara, he always pops into the picture at the end. To say hey, to tell funny stories, and to ask what he can be praying for. Because he's the best big brother a girl could ever ask for. And on top if that, the best husband a girl could wish for her sister. 

 

Grace

We are a broken, fallen people. I can lump us together because I know that's just the state of the world. I can verify that quite readily about myself. This week was rough. Not quite sure why; I could list things but they would just feel like excuses. I was grumpy and tired and insecure. Lets just wrap it up as a tough few days. But luckily, The Lord is still molding me to look like his son, so this week he  pushed discipline. As in, disciplines I could learn to be focused on him.

There were great moments of success. When I'd close the door to the laundry room and listen to BT talk about the great results from beans and rice week. In that moment, I could still the anxious thoughts. I didn't hear the planner inside my head ticking. It was just the word of The Lord being preached and his mission being applauded. When I was counting (every single knife) for inventory, and my mind started to wonder and distract me, I'd listen to last Wednesday or worship music and I could just sit at his feet.

Now, in this same week, there was failure. Times when I was so wrapped up in frustration or anxiety that Christ was far from my thoughts. Instead I would fold towels or count spoons while fuming over some huge issue (which was really nothing). My god, however, is full of grace. And one of the things I love most is how quiet and gentle his grace is with me. Ill be in the midst of too many thoughts and its as if he just whispers, "it's my turn now. Let that all go". And he quietly holds out his hands; patiently waiting for me to let go and hand it all over. Because whether I am a success or a failure at the discipline of keeping my focus on him, he is gracious. Because that's what grace does. No matter how often or how deeply I fail. It's the unfair nature of grace that continues to astound and humble me. He should've stopped giving me grace a long time ago. I've been rebellious for far too long. And yet each time, as my heart wars over trivial matters, he waits. Patiently. Hoping I'll accept the grace he so longs to give me.

What an amazing God we serve.

Encouragement

(Just incase you don't believe me that this place is obscenely gorgeous and an absolute picture of heaven, check out this picture from a hike I took last week.  And now back to the post you were hoping to read.)

I've been emailing with one of my best friends this past week and she wrote the following; I hope it encourages you as much as it did/does for me.

Joel 2:3  Before them fire devours, behind them a flame blazes. Before them the land is like the garden of Eden, behind them, a desert waste.

It just sparked my thinking about Eden and the desert. We're in the desert now, but look what God has to offer us -- the garden of Eden! Only before God can we receive blessings and look what he has to give! Otherwise, you only get sand.  Good things are to come through the Lord. The past is worthless.

I think Heaven is a lot like the Garden of Eden. A place of beauty, peace, fragrance and utter joy with being in perfect relationship with the Lord. Like your mountains, I think we get glimpses of the garden, which are glimpses of heaven.  And how it makes us long for the day when we reach it.

She's a wise cookie, that one.  I just love the thought of what good he wants for us.  And while life will not be perfect (if these past few years taught me nothing else) but it will daily give us opportunities to choose the Lord.  When we could get swept up in the world's version of success, we can choose to sit in his approval.  When the world taunts us with images of what we should look like, we have the option of choosing to believe what he says about us; that we were knit together in our mothers' wombs.

Life in this broken world will continually try to make us focus on the desert waste.  But even in the midsts of this literal desert that is Central Oregon, gosh if he doesn't heap on blessings and show us glimpses of the garden.  When we find ourselves at his feet, we will also find peace.  While the initial decision and move was hard and at times heartbreaking, being here has proven the Lord's faithfulness.  I was listening to the last week of the "follow the leader" series at Crossroads and BT talked about the idea of following.  That it often requires us to be mobile and follow where ever he leads.  I stood in the kitchen, cookie scoop in hand, with tears rolling down my face.  He called me to be obedient.  His call took me away from my family, a city I love, my friends; heck it took me 2500 miles across the country. But obedience brings peace.  Maybe not ease (although this is creepily comfortable and home-like already), but peace beyond anything I could understand or rationalize away.  Because my God, he loves faithfulness and obedience.  And I can only hope he's a little bit proud of this timid traveler.

Further up and further in

I woke up in town today, to a gorgeous view of snow capped mountains. If you know me well, you know that one of my love languages is mountains. (That one was left out of the book, but its totally legit) I've been sitting here reading and writing for about an hour and I can't get over the sight. You'd think living in this part of the country would help that. Instead, it's just like God shouts I LOVE YOU every morning, then again when I walk out to lunch, after work, as I go to bed… The mountains are always there. It made me think of my favorite narnia quote, which I've probably put on here before, but its good so read it again and love it!

"I have come home at last! This is my real country! I belong here. This is the land I have been looking for all my life, though I never knew it till now. The reason why we loved the old Narnia is that it sometimes looked a little like this."

I know this is about heaven and not Oregon. But looking at Oregon makes me super excited for heaven. If these mountains render me speechless, I can only imagine what's in store!

Community

I joked to a few friends before leaving cincinnati, that this was my big "going away to college" life experience.  We've all seen the coming of age stories, or experienced them ourselves, where we grow up, move out, get random roommates, and have to make all new friends.  Some of you experienced that first hand.  I went not even a full hour away, roomed with one of my best friends, and didn't really do all that well in making new friends.  I made a few.  But I also learned how, at my core, I am an introvert and not very good at making social plans, which are often necessary for friendships.
Then I made the "big move" to Virginia after college; to work with some of my closest friends and live with my best friend.  Not exactly a stretching experience, community wise.  In fact, that was one of the hardest parts about leaving Virginia.  I had such built-in community that I knew it could never be replicated.  It was like a cruise ship where there's something every night, you merely need to decide if you will be in attendance.
Then back to Cincinnati, where I lived with and around my best friends and family.  Community was no Virginia, but it was wonderful and handed to me on a silver platter. (known as a small group I was annexed into and WCC leadership)  So when I first thought about coming out to Oregon, I was hesitant.  I can be a bit awkward and shy.  Some of you are confused and would say no no, not the case.  Others are glad that I am aware because they thought eventually they would have to have a conversation with me.
And so, three weeks ago, I was plopped into a built-in community of sorts.  You see, incase you didn't know, all of staff lives on property.  We all live in a little community of condos.  So, if you want to go to dinner, chances are it's just a few condos down.  And yet, when my roommate (aka social coordinator) was out of town for two days, I stayed in.  I haven't mastered the art of reaching out.  And if we're being honest, I'm completely okay with my own company, but I know that eight months is a long time, and community is a must.  It's not that I'm afraid or nervous, but that I'm perfectly content on my own.  But I know that with community comes growth.  We were designed to walk this together; as Chuck said this past sunday, as a tribe.
My big life adventure is definitely pushing me to grow, and ultimately that's exciting.  While it isn't always comfortable, I know that it is best.  Because Jesus takes us to places of new growth for our good, not for our comfort.  So be proud, any second now, the lady interns will be stopping by for a good 'ole fashioned ladies night.  And all that said, I give you free reign to call me out and challenge me.  Ask me if I've been faithful to stepping out of my comfort zone, and even out of what I feel like I need, because that's the joy of community with you.  You'll push me to grow, even if you are one of the many that finds themselves 2,500 miles away.

Antelope, Oregon

Incase you haven't heard, I moved to Oregon.  Two weeks ago today, I arrived at Washington Family Ranch.  My mom left the next day and I hit the ground running.  (Literally. I started work the next day.)  Life here at the ranch is wonderful.  I am overwhelmed by how wonderful, actually.  One might think the transition across the country, especially for a home body like me, would take some more time. But I know that the Lord has given me exactly what I've been asking for, and there is peace in that.

You see, the past four and a half years have been heartbreakingly brutal at times; the rest of the time, just plain brutal.  There was little stability outside of God and family.  Jobs, homes; these were fairly fluid and transient through this time.  So I waited, with frustration most of the time, for God to step in and make his plans clear.  There's no way you've spent any time on this blog...ever.. and not noticed that I have been asking and begging for him to shout out plans for our adventure.  He never did.  Even these plans for Oregon.  It's as if I was playing a marco/polo game without knowing it.  I would try to move one way, and his voice came from somewhere else.  So I'd do something else, and his voice came from somewhere else.  When I was almost positive I had finally gotten it right, his voice came from somewhere else.  And all signs pointed to Oregon.

So I packed my bags, loaded my stuff (and my mom) in the car, and drove across these great states to find the adventure and peace I had begged the Lord for for so many years.  I was terrified with his answer; don't get me wrong.  I wasn't running full speed here.  There was definitely a fair share of feet dragging.  I have wonderful friends that live in Cincinnati.  When I say wonderful, I am not putting that mildly.  And they came out of the woodwork to go over the top in my last month there.  And my family.  Well, if you know me at all, you know my heart for those four people. (not to mention the like 20 others that all resided within almost 20 minutes of me.) Making the move was not a comfortable decision, but gosh was it easy.

Because I don't pray for open doors.  Do you know how many could open at once?  And how ambiguous that would be? We are a family of indecisive people, so I have always craved decisiveness.  I wanted the Lord to make the decision and be very clear with what he wants.  So I pray for closed doors.  What he doesn't want for me, cut off the option.  Fill the posting with someone else, marry him off to another girl, do what you will, but close the door if it's not your will.  That's what I ask.  And while it is a painful undertaking, because he is more than willing to answer our prayers, it is so good when something is left open.  When my "last resort" is available.  When that same "last resort" calls with a job offer.  He was decisive.  And he had heard my cry for adventure, for joy in my job, for a sense of mission, for community, for grandeur.

If you're still with me, let me leave you with this: The Lord is faithful.  When I look at the things that I wanted, the doors that closed, I am grateful.  Because I was looking for satisfaction and identity in those things.  He knew all too well how miserable they would make me.  But in the midst of the sludge that was these past four and a half years, all I could seem to pray for was him to make himself known.  And when you are broken for an extended period of time, he is all there is.  He is the only place to find satisfaction, literally.  He is the only source of identity, truly.  There are no facades to hide behind in brokenness.  And he wept with me in that brokenness.  But he also wept while knowing how that brokenness would change me.  How it would allow him to mold and shape me differently so that I will stop chasing the things that don't matter.  So that I'm not chasing adventure for adventure's sake, but because life with the Lord is adventure.  Whether that's at the ranch or in a city.  So that I'm not chasing satisfaction in a job, but in him.  And being with him and serving him is satisfying.  Not because people like my cooking (although I am sinful and my pride is wounded when they don't) but because I know that the gospel is preached through that kitchen.

All that to say, Oregon is good.  The Lord is good.  Lean in to him.  He does not guarantee us safety or comfort, but dangit, he is good. Since I've got no good closer for you, I'll let CS Lewis do it with one of my favorite lines from Narnia.

"Safe?" Said Mr. Beaver, "Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe.  But he's good.  He's the King, I tell you."


And just incase you're so inclined:
Amanda Stegman
1 Muddy Road
Antelope, Oregon 97001

what a wonderful problem

I am moving across the country in about a week.  It's a scary adventure that I am super pumped for.  In the midst of packing up most of my life and driving to the great Northwest, I have been cramming in time with friends and family.  It has been humbling to realize how blessed I am in those categories of life.  You see, if I wasn't, this move would be easy.  Instead, I stand with groups of people who have shared life with me, who know my heart, who laugh at my odd sense of humor.  I stand with them and have to say goodbye.  To my team, my girls, my area, my family, my work; all of these people make up my best friends.  What a blessing it is to have such great friends that I am run ragged trying to fit in dinners and coffee and laughs and stories.  What a wonderful problem to have.  Because if these people weren't in my life, leaving Ohio would be easy.  But some of the best people I know live right here in Cincinnati, and so come Monday, I'll be driving through tears I'm sure.

Praying for the struggle

Sometimes, I feel just like that bear.  Like at the end of the day I have slammed full force into a wall.  That is my exact face when crawling into bed at night; I wouldn't make it another step if I tried.  Life has become a battle between me and the hours in the day.

I have found myself repeatedly in the position lately, of apologizing for, or explaining away my hardships.  When I talk life with friends, they apologize or wish they could do more.  I find myself saying, again and again, "it's okay. that's life."  And while that statement is very true (with life inevitably comes struggle), it has very little hope.  It isn't a statement that says I believe that my hope outweighs my current circumstances, because my hope is in the one true Lord.  Because he has already endured and overcome everything I could even imagine going through.

Recently, with my team, we've been spending time in the word together during team meetings.  I cannot think of anything more worthy of our time.  In the midst of that, I feel like we've spent some time talking about struggling.  (as mentioned before, it's a given in this life)  And we've talked about the promise that our struggles refine us, that they teach us more about God and his character.  I believe that at a ten.  I've watched it happen and I've even gotten glimpses of it in my own life.  But we have to submit ourselves under him in order for him to step out.  I have to be looking for him; crying for him even, in the midst of my struggles.  Then, regardless of whether he eases that particular struggle, he makes himself known.

Sadly, I think I have discovered a large character flaw within myself during this discovery.  If I had to choose between more of him and an easy life, I might choose the easy way out. (literally)  That realization has surprised me.  I wouldn't have thought myself to choose such a lame thing over the God of the Universe.  And yet, during rough days, when crap continues day in and day out, I ask for relief, not for a Savior.  So this week, I'm going to challenge myself to ask him to be my relief; not an absence of struggle, but a Savior to walk alongside me.  And since that leads to knowing him more, I'm going to attempt to pray for struggles to come.  Hit me with your best shot.  (never have I uttered a more terrifying phrase)

Gratitude

This was in my drafts because I started it long ago and never finished it. (slightly ironic if you read it, but if I remember correctly my computer died.)  It's extra special to me now, as I looked over the pictures I had chosen and had yet to write about, because Bertie is one of them.  She was and will always be a treasure.  Enjoy...


The new rooms and I are working on holding each other accountable to spending time with Jesus. So when I tried to wimp out on hang out time because I'm a grandma and want to go to bed, she called me on it.  So my "assignment" tonight it to write things that I am thankful for.  She told me three, but I like to think I can come up with more than that, so here are four.

My girls

I am beyond amazed every time I get to share the gospel with these girls.  I love it because they are at an age where they are so vulnerable and so real.  They are willing to open up their lives and share the good, the bad, and the ugly.  I have learned so much about God and his heart for us by spending time with these girls.  They make me laugh and they make me cry.  I laugh with them and I weep for them.  I am so thankful that the Lord allows me to be a part of ministry at Finneytown.

Cat Wade

When I was a pesky, pious, youth group kid she spent time with me.  She challenged me to better and to more.  She showed me what it looked like for a woman to love the Lord enough to give up her life.  If there is anything good in me as a leader, it is because I followed Cat Wade, following Christ.  And I continue to get to call her my friend.

Grams (Bertie)

I'm not sure I can get much down right now, because I have already started crying, but this woman is amazing.  She taught me how to enjoy life, how to spend intentional time with people, how to laugh, how to love unconditionally and relentlessly, how to be fair.. I could go on for pages.  For those of you that don't know, my grams passed away about two weeks ago.  She had been fighting cancer since the spring and we all got to spend lots of time with her this summer; it was wonderfully bittersweet.  My aunt Amy and I got to share a special moment with her this May in the hospital.  Everyone had just left and the three of us sat there.  She summed up Paul's thoughts when she said she was torn.  She so wanted to stay and be with all of us (there are 25 between kids/grandkids) but "I just want to be with Cliff and my Jesus."  Of course tears flowed at the moment, but in that moment I wanted that so badly for her.  The assurance when she said MY Jesus.  I think it's why I haven't cried much about it.  It would seem selfish to cry.  She finally gets to be back with the man I got to call my grandpa, AND she gets to hang out with Jesus.  Her Jesus.  That one word has resonated in my mind all summer.  Because I want to call him mine. (and I am thankful that he calls us his.)

Parentals

I'm spoiled rotton. My parents are amazing. And hilariously, this picture sums them up perfectly.  My mom is an extravert.  She'll make friends with anyone.  Super friendly.  And once you're friends, you're friends for life.  She would do anything for you.  Dad loves the background.  We jokingly call him a hermit.  But he loves to just support; to encourage.  They have taken so seriously the call on their lives to make disciples; because I know they are why Sara and I know and follow the Lord.  

Walking on Water

I had a realization a few weeks back that we all have opportunities in our lives to walk on water.  God presents us with opportunities that are, by all means, impossible.  Things that the world (and common sense) tells us shouldn't work.  Maybe you're making it by financially on an amount of money that seems too small, for example.  When we keep our eyes on Jesus, He makes the impossible, possible in our lives.  I use that as an example, because it's how he's been allowing me to walk on water since leaving teaching.  Life shouldn't work as easily as it has.  And i'm not saying I walk on water because he just deposits cash in my accounts. (although should he choose to go that route, I will not argue) Instead he puts things in my life that are atypical; roommates who want little to no rent. A sister who loves to take me out to eat. Random things in my life that I like to do on the side of my job that make good money (cupcakes, earrings, etc).  And as long as my eyes are on Him, it all works.

Sometimes though, the world is really loud.  If you remember from the account of Peter walking on water, you'll remember that he sinks at one point.  He gets distracted by the wind and the waves.  This wasn't a clear, pristine night.  I cannot imagine not being distracted.  The world was shouting that what he was doing wasn't possible.  He forgot who he was with.  Of course walking on water isn't possible for us; but it is for Jesus.  And because He's there, it is for Peter as well.  The world loves to shout at me that life shouldn't work.  That because my job isn't in my field of training or doesn't make enough or doesn't have enough hours, I'm doing something wrong.  Or I'm not good enough.  The world is good at being loud; it's good at distracting us and reminding us that what we're doing isn't possible.  That's when I freak out and apply for 10 jobs in one sitting; jobs that also have nothing to do with my training, or even things I enjoy.  I panic and forget that this isn't impossible for Him.

When we keep our eyes on Jesus, we get to walk on water.  I think that's worth getting out of the boat.