A Look Back on Uganda Message

June 28, 2015
Two months after returning form our year in Uganda, I was able to share with our church family a little of what that time was like and how God did incredible work in each of our family member's lives.
Have a listen.

One Day Message at Hope Church

For the past several weeks we have been in a sermon series called, “One Day.” Members of our church have reflected on stories in the Bible where profound things seemed to occur after the phrase “one day”. It’s been such a gift to hear, in each story shared, how it’s also in our present-day lives that God can do profound things with just a single day.

Unfortunately, I am going to break the rules today. I tried, I really did. I tried to come up with just one day, but I couldn’t.

I don’t have one specific day when God spoke to me. I don’t have one day when I accepted Jesus as my Lord and Savior. I don’t have one day when things had been one way, and the next day they were different…end of story.

My life has been a series of “One Days", and your's probably has been, too.

A journey of being carried by God before I would have ever given God credit, of being given gifts from God that I surely didn’t deserve, and of seeking God with all of my heart.

So, I won’t exactly follow the rules, but at least I will start out the right way…

One Day, I boarded an airplane at O’Hare International Airport that would take me to Brussels, and then to Uganda, Africa to live for one year with my husband and 6 children. I have never had a heart for travel, and still don’t, but one day, about five years prior to boarding that plane, I was reading about missionaries, and my heart began doing strange things. As I read about people who gave up so much to move to places that were unfamiliar and do great things, the voice in my head kept saying that I could be one of those people, too. No matter how much I argued with myself, my heart kept assuring me that everyone one of those people were just regular-ole people who were willing to live out their faith for real. There was an inkling in my heart that God was up to something, but I had yet to learn how to listen.

You see, one day, about eight years prior to reading about missionaries, when I was finishing up my elementary education degree at ISU, I was required to observe for 4 weeks in a classroom. I requested an early education classroom just as I had dreamt of teaching my whole life, and I expected to get just that. There was no thought in my mind of God having a plan for my life, let alone a plan different from mine. I had my own goals and my own plans, and I honestly thought that if I could just work hard enough and make the right choices, that all would go my way. (Thank God I am COMPLETELY over that. ;-) ) You can imagine then, my frustration as I walked into the first day of that observation, not assigned to the kindergarten or 1^st grade classroom that I wanted, but to a SIXTH GRADE CLASSROOM…have you met any sixth graders lately?!?...and they were all going to be taller than me!?! I couldn’t believe it.

And as if that weren’t bad enough, the teacher of that classroom was this absolutely ridiculous guy. It was awful. There wasn’t a chance that I was going to learn anything about teaching from these 4 weeks. Or so I thought. I had no idea that God was giving me one of the greatest gifts of my life before I ever would have even thought to give Him credit for it.

Dave:

Little did I know, the one day that I was assigned an ISU student to observe in my 6^th grade classroom for 4 weeks, was the day that I met the woman who would become my wife. Not only did she end up loving the 6^th graders, despite the fact that they were taller than her, but she eventually ended up liking me, too. When Cara and I began dating, she told me that she was going to change the world, and that if I wasn’t up for the adventure, then we probably shouldn’t bother even dating. I had no idea what she really meant by that, but it sounded fun, and I thought she was cute, so I agreed. In our first year of marriage, we bought a house, moved, and brought our first child home from the hospital. We also racked up thousands of dollars’ worth of debt. There was no thought of listening for God’s plan or asking for God’s input. We were doing this crazy-life-thing just fine on our own.

We were going to church, and we considered ourselves Christians, but what did that even mean? We just had to be good, right? We were nice people, and we did good deeds, so we were in.

There was no talk at this time of God being present in our daily lives. We knew God loved us and we thought that was great, but I had a plan, and it was full speed ahead.

We brought our first child home from the hospital two days before our first anniversary, had our second 20 months later, and our third just a short time after that.

We bought into the lie that everyone lived in debt, so even though there were more bills than money, we saw no reason to stop buying things. After all, we weren’t buying bad things. We were buying things that we deserved, right, for all the hard work and good things we were doing.

Dave was teaching full-time, I was running a home daycare, we were raising 3 little ones, leading vacation Bible School, teaching Sunday school, volunteering on committees…we were involved and we were busy. Because being busy with good things seemed honorable, we never hesitated, or thought to consult God on any of our choices.

 A friend of ours became a foster mom, and we thought, “Hey, that sounds like fun!” So we also began the process to become foster parents.  That friend of ours was a young, single woman, and as it became clear that the children she was caring for would need a forever family, Dave and I told her we were interested, and we began preparing our lives for the addition of 3 more kids. Full speed ahead.

Our “one days” in that season were all a big blur. They were great in a million ways, but my heart jumped back and forth between excitement over all of the big decisions and absolute terror about how we could possibly keep all of this on track. Even when things were going smoothly, I was white-knuckling it, knowing at any moment it could all fall apart.

Then came the season when I thought it was.

The children who we had been transitioning into life at our house, could no longer be adopted by us. It didn’t matter that their bedrooms were all set up at our house. It didn’t matter that they were registered for school or had gone on trips already with our extended family. These children, who in my heart were already mine, wouldn’t never truly be.

I was beside myself. Not my finest moments. I was broken and mad. I had absolutely no way of knowing how God was actually carrying me through this season. I had no idea how God would redeem our family. I was just broken.

But, life had to go on, right, so I did what I knew how to do best, I busied myself with other things. As long as I was moving at full-speed, there was no time to process those feelings.

Except that I was in a small group at the time, and these people didn’t let me get away with anything less that authenticity. Each week, as we met, they spoke truth to me…truth that I often didn’t want to hear. They told me I was doing too much. They told me that I didn’t seem as happy and I wanted everyone to think that I was.

One Day, my dear small group friend asked me some questions, and answering them honestly made my whole life stop moving.

“How would God feel about you if you didn’t do anything other than sit at His feet and love Him?      

 If you couldn’t do a single thing for God, would you be worth loving?”

I knew the right answer. I knew God would love me no matter what, but doing nothing was so foreign. My purpose and my identity were all wrapped up in what I did. I knew it would take time to live into the truth of the answers, so I began practicing.

Instead of squeezing as many of my own ideas into my prayers, I simply sat. In the brief moments when all of my daycare kids were napping, I took that time to listen to that feeling in my heart, that voice in my head. Once I took the time to listen, I came to understand that sometimes that feeling was me, and my own ideas, but other times, it was God. God would place a persistent feeling on my heart, and I couldn’t make it go away. God would encourage me and bring truths to my mind exactly when I needed them, and, in my human-ness, I would roll my eyes and disagree. I felt this battle occurring within myself, but as much as I wanted to, I didn’t fully understand it.

One of those crazy truths that came to mind and wouldn’t go away, was that we needed to make some major life changes. We needed to clear our schedule, focus on our immediate family, and get in a healthy place before we could do any good in the world for God or for anyone else. If I wanted to change the world, even just my own little corner of it, as I told Dave when we were dating, I needed to find my identity in something bigger than just being busy.

It sounded torturous. This truth wouldn’t go away though, so I mentioned the idea to Dave. “What if we stepped down from every commitment besides our family and our jobs? What if we just quit everything and focused on our family?”

I don’t know how, but Dave didn’t think I was crazy…that’s the other bizarre thing about God’s ideas, God makes other people think they’re good, too!

After some discussion, we decided to give God one year. God had one year, and not a day more, for us to sit at His feet, to love Him, to study His word, and to listen to Him. We would call it “The Year of No Crazy.” 

Yes, it had a name.

The rules were:

No big life decisions

No large purchases

No kids’ activities

No evening commitments

More time growing our faith

More time focusing on making our own family the best we could possibly be together.

It was probably about a day or two into this year-long commitment that I ran to one of my small group friends with a list of things that I was absolutely certain that God wanted me to do…to busy myself with. She simply shook her head at me and said, “If you have given God this year, then God will honor that. Trust that God will honor this time.”

She challenged me to write down all of the things that I was certain God was calling me to do during our year, and if it truly was from God, then I could do them when the year was over.

This led me to a season of learning to discern my own thoughts and ideas from God’s voice. It took work to try to tell them apart, and I had to know God better in order to be able to tell if something was truly coming from Him. So, I kept plugging along in my year. I read my Bible all the way through for the first time in my life, listened to Christian radio, and read Christian books to gain a better understanding of who the Bible says God is, and how the life experiences of others have shaped their view of who God is.

Some of those books were about mission work that was being done in Africa. The word missionary always sounded so professional to me, but these stories were really just about regular people who couldn’t shake the feeling that God had something for them to do in another country, so they listened. They didn’t dedicate their lives to mission as a personal choice, but because they couldn’t live out their faith authentically without obeying this call.

Then, One Day, 2 months before our Year of No Crazy was over, I received a call from the foster care agency. A family we didn’t know was going on vacation, and they needed someone to watch their 3 foster children for one week. Could we possibly take them just for that week?

It was just a week. It wasn’t a major life decision. They were 3, 4, and 5 years-old, just about the same ages as our biological kids, so it wouldn’t be a hassle. Dave and I had grown so much in the 10 months of no crazy. We talked about whether it would be good for us to watch these children, and we prayed. We asked God for His input on the decision. We took it slow.

Everything in us felt that it was right to do, so we agreed.

We had a cookout with the family so the kids would know us prior to spending a week with us, and although I had always taken the lead in our foster care journey to this point, Dave knew instantly upon meeting the 4 year-old girl, Halie, that she was meant to be his daughter. He couldn’t shake the feeling. I was so glad that we had made room in our lives to listen for God.

The week was wonderful with the children, and with that persistent feeling in Dave’s heart, we inquired about the children’s situation. Wouldn’t you know it, the kids were about to be eligible for adoption, and they were most likely going to be split up because there wasn’t a home open for all 3 of them.

More discussion. More conversations with our small group friends. More prayer.

One month shy of the end of The Year of No Crazy, Brice, Halie and Jasmine moved into their forever home. A year later, they would officially become McMorrises.

Should we have waited until that year was over? Would God have honored that time if we waited to move forward. Yes. I believe whole-heartedly that He would have.

But I also had come to know how deep God’s understanding of my heart was. I had been in conversation enough with God to discern His voice from distractions. I knew in my heart that God was saying, “Go for it. These are your children.”

We ended our year of no crazy with 3 additional children, a deeper understanding of our God, and the gift of a blank slate on which to build a life not filled with good things, but a life filled only with the great things that God has planned for us.

If you had all day, I could go on and on about the adventure that our life since the Year of No Crazy has been. I would assure you that God’s plans for our lives are so much cooler than even my best plans.

I would also warn you that you can’t go back. Once you have trained yourself to listen for God’s voice, you can’t ignore Him when he says things like…

That money that you are spending is mine. Being in Debt is not where I call you to be. You can do better with what I have given you. When we heard that, we learned to live more simply, and in less than 2 years, paid off over $50,000 worth of debt.

Then, in a crazy set of circumstances that we would have ignored for sure had we not been tuned in to the voice of God, we shared some sack lunches with strangers around town and were led to a community of people who lived in tents. That day of sharing sandwiches led to a 2 year focus on deep, authentic relationships with a rag-tag group of people who were homeless. It led to the greatest Thanksgiving dinners that were ever shared around our table, and the fullest house as we opened presents with our kids on Christmas mornings.

In the midst of that, God placed Uganda, Africa on my heart. I have never had a heart for travel, and still don’t, but God said that He had some things for do there, and we knew well enough to obey.

So, One Day, I boarded an airplane at O’Hare International Airport that would take me to Brussels, and then to Uganda, Africa to live for one year with my husband and 6 children.

But those are stories for another…One Day.

My Life As Clay

I am just as guilty as the next guy, of asking kids incessantly, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” While I have spent my 35 3/4 years on earth searching for a clear understanding of the one thing that I am to be, I am realizing how misleading that question truly is. For there is not one thing to be, but many things that God may call us to do, often with different titles. 

Instead of being a created once from a slab of clay into a single vessel with a single purpose, I have reached a point where I am coming to understand that I haven’t so much been made, as I am continually being made and re-shaped by God. 

I am a continuing creation. I am squishy clay in my Father’s hands, more than a solid, permanent vessel. In my squishiness, I am able to give my life freely to Him and allow Him to shape it for His many purposes for my life, all of which are His divine calling for me. So, although my vocational titles have changed throughout my life, my purpose has not. I am to allow God to create me and my life.

In my younger years, I was what you might call a "quitter". I begged to be in dance class, and then complained and quit after a few weeks. I joined band, but never saw a concert. (Unless that epic jam session on my friend Crystal's back porch the day we got our clarinet and flute counts.) If you combined the time that I spent in volleyball and track, then it might add up to a complete season. I could go on and on.

Thankfully, I had a mom who either a) saw my deep wisdom in trying many things in order to find my gifts, or b) knew it was pointless to argue with her passionate, emotional, vocal, headstrong daughter and prayed I'd turn out alright. Whichever it was, my mom had the wisdom to accept this part of me. Even as a I went through boyfriends quicker than I care to admit, my mom would always says, "It's good. You are just figuring out what you want in life." I pray for this type of wisdom in parenting my own children.

There is a distinct moment in my life as a high-school student when I stood next to my mother in worship singing the song, “Here I am Lord”. For the first time in my life, that song became the prayer of my heart rather than simply lyrics that I echoed. I had heard God calling me to surrender my life. I had felt God and seen evidence in my life of how He had rescued me and carried me through tough situations, protecting me all the while. In high school, as I explored my own personal faith, and as I grew to understand more of the character of God, I always knew it was Him who was calling me and carrying me.

So, as I stood and sang those words, “I will  go, Lord. Where you lead me,” my life was different. My purpose was to follow, to be led. I didn’t have a picture of my future, I didn’t know what lay ahead, but I knew that  the safest place to be was in the center of God’s will for my life. So, I followed.

First, I followed to Illinois State University, where I earned a degree that enabled me to become an elementary school teacher. I had always felt that I was born to be a teacher, that God had molded me to be just that. I had been so inspired by teachers in my life, and I felt a call to pour into the lives of others. I recognized the passion and gift that I had been given to work with children, and it all made perfect sense. 

God made me to be a teacher.

Until there wasn’t a position for me my second year of teaching and I was in a position to figure out my next step in life. With my husband and 9-year old step-daughter, we decided it was time to begin growing our family, and God led me beautifully into a career as home daycare provider. Not only could I be home to raise my own children, but I was able to teach pre-school to the other children in my care and pour into their families. It was an occupation and a ministry, and once again, I felt that I had arrived at my life’s purpose. I was created, molded, made to be a teacher, but for pre-school children and in my own home.

God made me to be a daycare provider.

And then, after 10 years in that profession, 2 more biological children, several foster children, and eventually 3 adopted children, God began calling my heart again, and this time He was met with some questions. I felt like I was back at step one, squishy, unformed clay rather than a purposefully formed vessel.

God, have I been hearing you wrong?

Why am I not staying where I feel you call me?

What did you make me to be?

Living in those questions, I sought hard after God. I studied, I read, I listened. I took classes and joined in discussions. I thought if I just knew Him better, I would finally figure out my calling.

Within that time, God began placing bread crumbs in my reading and studying that led me to explore the possibility of missional life, including life in a third-world country. This call could not have felt more out of place, but once again, I knew I must follow where He led me. Talk about being squishy clay in the Potter’s hand! We had no clue how this would happen or what it would look like logistically, but following step-by-step led to an incredible journey where God used us, stretched us and changed us. In that setting our purpose was clear as we served and lived.

God made me to be a missionary. 

Well, that is, until it was clear that our time would be limited to one year.

I returned home, once again unsure of my purpose, feeling like I had been wrong all along. As friends neared the 15 year mark in their steady careers, I was moving on once again.

Once again, there I sat, squishy clay; unformed, unmade, wondering what God was creating and begging Him to get it done with already.

That was almost a year ago, and now, as God has placed seminary on my heart, I have had even more questions for Him. I don’t yet know where this journey will lead me vocationally, or what it will look like to be a student as well as a wife and mother, but I know it will be used.

God doesn't waste a thing. He has used every single part of my journey to grow me and prepare me for the next thing. He has used it all to bless me, to give me perspective, and to show me my deep need for Him.

As I look around from where I stand now, I realize though, that I am not simply a squishy ball of clay. What has looked and felt disjointed to me, has been my calling all along. To follow, to learn, to grow, and to be ready to follow God wherever it is that He calls me next.

I may never celebrate more than 10 years in a single career, but I pray to have the same faith and wisdom that my mom had with me as a child.