one year.

I realized with a start today that our one year anniversary came and went without notice.

November 21st marked the end of our first year of living here in South Asia.

Can you believe it?

I have to be honest with you: there were a couple of moments in these twelve months where I thought we might not last a whole year.

But God is faithful.  And here we are.

Many people told us, “The first year is the worst.”  And so, even though there are good memories too, I am very relieved to have it behind me, like the closed chapter of a book.

Now, I think I’m coming up for air.  For the first time in a year, I wake up in the morning and I feel like me again.  I get out of bed, and greet my family.  I don’t dread the day in front of me.  I play with my kids and unload the dish drain and plan what we’ll have for dinner.

I think about the future.

The hard things are still here.

I miss our family.  I miss our churches.  I miss friends that I have history with.

I miss fiery-colored fall leaves and hot apple cider and Starbucks pumpkin bread.

And then there’s South Asia.  Waiting for the third week for internet in our new apartment.  Or sitting, yesterday, in an auto rickshaw with Alison, and having a cross-dresser smack me in the leg for refusing to give him money.  Or wondering why a morning of errands leaves my kids filthy from head to toe.  Or laying in bed at night and longing with my entire being for five minutes of complete silence.

But the stress isn’t so crushing now.

The things I like are starting to outweigh the things I don’t.

And here’s the other thing: yes, this has been, hands down, the hardest year of my life.  But in it, I have met God in a way I wouldn’t have if things were going great.  I know that, without a doubt.  Because when things are easy, I tend not to feel like I need him as much.  I tend to coast along in my little world and not really pay attention.

Well, this year I’ve had to pay attention.  And I’ve learned that God is more faithful, not less, than I thought.  I do not know his plans.  I don’t know what tomorrow holds, or next year.  I have no idea how long we’ll live here in South Asia.

But I know he is taking care of me and of my family.  I know he will not ever, ever desert us.  I know that even in the darkest moment of my life, he is working for my good and his glory.  I know he’s changing me and setting me free from things I thought would hold me chained up forever.  Fear.  Control.  Greed.  Resentment.  Jealousy.  Discontent.

I know that every single good thing I have is a gift.  It is not a coincidence.  It is not owed to me because I’m a decent person.  It is given by a Father who loves me and whom I belong to forever.

And there are people all around me he loves too.  People he wants me to love and to sit with in suffering and to give a hot meal to and to tell, over and over, the stories of his goodness.

I know that if he says he can use someone as weak and sinful and broken as I am, then he means it.

I give him all the glory.