Notes from Where We’ve Been
This past weekend found us leaving in the early dawn - leaving the ribbon of the Palouse for the desert of the Yakima Valley.
Tony leaned over the console and asked me quietly if I minded if he drove down 4th Street past the house that marked us and the ministry that will never leave my heart.
I was shocked to find myself disoriented as he brought us closer to 315. I recognized houses that held the children we worked with, paint colors had changed and so had the residents within them.
I had hoped to see beauty, improvement, growth, but as he turned on to Pine and the home that had been ours, I was staggered by the weight of decay and garbage and filth.
Only a few feet more and the building that had represented safety for the children in the neighborhood stood vacant, the front gates that Tony installed were chained shut. Windows that let in the oppressive Yakima sun were shattered from rocks thrown.
It was a picture of what life looks like when the Gospel is removed - and it was horrific.
And then, on the corner at the end of our street, a row of apartments lined the road. These apartments that had been purchased by two of the kids-now-adults who had spent most of their lives in the halls of Madison House. It was there that the light of Jesus shines in a quiet, obvious way. There isn’t chaos there - instead, there is order, beauty, and life.
How often have we felt like our time down on 4th Street was wasted, that in our desire to serve Jesus there, we only sowed failure.
But in His kindness, Jesus gave us a glimpse of hope. And I was grateful.
I thank my God in all my remembrance of you, always in every prayer of mine for you all making my prayer with joy, because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now. Philippians 1:3-5
I have read these words countless times, never realizing the weighty significance of Paul’s thanksgiving. Philippi was where Paul suffered terribly; Philippi as a whole was not kind or good to this Apostle.
But when he thought of the church of faithful believers in this place, he experienced joy. He was filled with thanksgiving.
Matthew Henry wrote,
“At Philippi, he was maltreated; there he was scourged and put into the stocks, and for the present, saw little of the fruit of his labour; and yet he remembers Philippi with joy. He looked upon his sufferings for Christ as his credit, his comfort, his crown, and was pleased at every mention of the place he suffered.”
Someone asked me recently if I ever missed the city we spent 8 years living in. I laughed and said no.
That is, until this past weekend.
This weekend, the Lord graciously gave me new eyes to see the city that holds so much pain in my memories. He kindly reminded me of all the joy that was there as well, all the sweet brothers and sisters in Him that carried us in their prayers and loved our children deeply - the place of deepest suffering promised a harvest of joy.
That means, that this place that we find ourselves in where we have felt lost and confused and uncertain…this place that I know that I know that I know that God brought us to - the suffering that has been experienced here I am learning is fertile soil for joy.
Growth takes time, if Yakima is any indication. But it will come suddenly and take you by surprise, and Christ alone will get the glory because it is His fruit, it is His joy.
So keep abiding in Him. Keep trusting, even when you don’t fully understand His ways. You are loved and held by His almighty hand.
With love,
