, ,

I told someone the other day that we are models of chaos. If you ever wanted to know how to live a chaos filled life, just watch us. Because we could seriously get a gold medal in chaos. At this point, I’m not sure I would know how to function without it. That’s probably not healthy. Whatever. I know a good therapist.
A week ago, I wrote this blog about the new kids in our lives. By Friday night, I was done. I was telling God I wanted out. I couldn’t do it anymore. On top of the overwhelmed feeling that suddenly having 7 kids brings to you, Jud fell from his bunk bed & injured himself pretty significantly. For those who don’t remember or weren’t along for this journey with us yet, this is how things turned out the last time we took in a group of older kids. And here we were again. Though this injury was an accident, he would have never been reaching from his bunk bed to close his closet door if these kids hadn’t been here. It’s not their fault. I know this. But I was a hot mess. Just ask the kind friends who came to take care of the tribe that night. Jud was hurt. Again. We were having to request kids in our care be placed elsewhere. Again. I was sobbing. For us. For Jud. For them. It hurt. And re-awakened some of my deepest fears.
A month or so ago, on the Momastery blog, they were doing this experiment where everyone was sharing what Glennon coined their “sacred scared.” Basically, it’s that deep-seeded fear that people may have about the work that they are doing. My deep-seeded fear in this path of obedience that we are trying to walk is that Jud and Caleb will someday resent God for all of this. That I will be screaming from the top of my lungs that Jesus is worth it; all the pain, sacrifice, heartache, exhaustion. And they will say, “Not to us.” And that fear wrapped itself around my heart and mind Friday night and Saturday. And Sunday. And Monday. And well. That fear is still there.
We found out today that Jud has to have surgery on Monday. We also found out that his specific injury (and therefore surgery) is very rare in kids. Leave it to my flesh & blood to find the rare injury. We like to be different. And I find myself wondering if Jud will someday say it was worth it. That our obedience was worth it. That Jesus was worth it. And that fear makes me want to run the other direction.

But then our pastor preached on Peter on Sunday. Specifically, this passage in John 6:

Vs 66 After this many of his disciples turned back and no longer walked with him. So Jesus said to the Twelve, “Do you want to go away as well?” Simon Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life, and we have believed, and come to know, that you are the Holy One of God.”

I am Peter. I want to run the other direction. I am terrified that our obedience will cause Jud to resent God. I am terrified. But where else would I go? Who else would I turn to?
And so I say through tears and with a very weak voice, that Jesus is worth it. He is always worth it. Even when we want to run away. Even when obedience seems to be killing us. Even when we end up on our kitchen floor over and over and over again. He is always, always worth it.