Invisible Success

  And after you have suffered a little while the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you. To him be the dominion forever and ever. Amen 1Peter 5:10

I hadn’t been home to visit in nearly thirteen years.

As I stepped out into the cold country air I could see junk strewn all over the  yard, fossils of forgotten lawn mowers, boats, refrigerators, doors, motors, and various junk went on and on. Even in the dark, my home was still an eyesore just as it had been growing up.

But…I took a deep breath still feeling hopeful. I was so glad to be visiting my parents who were doing better then I had ever seen them do.
Eager to get inside and face my fears, I took a step forward, snow crunching beneath my feet. Walking alone towards the door, I cautiously stepped inside not knowing what to expect.
This being a trailer, the space was still small and cramped like I remembered but there was a peace there that hadn’t been present in my childhood. Surveying the walls still decorated with faded pictures of Janet Joplin, Jimi Hendrix and the Grateful Dead brought back memories of being the child of hippies.
Thankfully although this was still a trailer, it wasn’t the same trailer my younger brother and I grew up in, That awful trailer which held years of tears in the cheap wood panels, had been taken to the dump where it belonged.
That first night as I lay on the living room couch listening to the sounds of the wood stove crackling softly, I counted my blessings. How far God has brought me over the years and how merciful He has been to my parents. God has spared both of their lives at different times in the last few years. I thought of the transformation I have undergone over the years since I ran away from home at a young age and never looked back.
My father only recently gave his life to Jesus but what a difference I have seen in a short amount of time. God had blessed my father in ways too many to write about. God has restored peace to a family that once knew no peace.

I can see all of these things but just as quickly, I can stumble into the mud when I doubt His hand in my life.

“Hey! Bob Woodwork’s been asking about you, remember him Angie?
He says the two of you guys went to school together…” My mom says with a smile pulling on her mud boots.

“Who is Bob Woodworks?” I puzzle, this name bringing no one to mind. Then I remember.
Ohhh, you mean Neil Woods?” I asked vaguely recalling a boy in my class who had a long mullet.

“Yeah, that’s him! My mom nods excitedly.
He asked for your number a while back, but I didn’t give it to him. He’s a protester and a vegan!” My mom says with a wink as my dad looks up at her from his book.

“He’s not interested in you Angie. Mom brought you up to him, not the other way around…”

“Wait, who said I was interested in him?” I ask feeling defensive and a little stung at my father’s typical bluntness.

“And I’m not a vegan or a protester anymore.” I say laughing

As we head out the door, towards her car, she whispers, “That’s not how it happened, he did I ask about you.”
I raise my eyebrow. I

“I don’t know who to believe!” I say bursting out laughing as my mom started the car.

And honestly mom I don’t care either way…” And for once I meant it. I could barely recall who this guy was.

“Ok then.” She says in what I mistake for defeat. She cranks up Dolly Parton and head towards the Recycling Center, a little plot of land where the locals can bring garbage, recyclable items and browse a table of free items no one wants.

As we pull in my mom surveys the grounds.
“I wonder where he is?”

“Mom! Please, I mean it, stop.” I say this taking a quick glance in the mirror and applying a pink lipstick. I suddenly feel this pressure to impress this person who I can hardly recall in my minds eye.

He hasn’t seen me since high school and what I want him to see is a put together woman, whatever that looks like.

“There he is!” My mom exclaims forgetting my pleas for her to stop.

I can’t even bring myself to look at this mystery man. I don’t want him to catch me staring. I get out of the car and help her take a bag of garbage towards the dumpster. I stand looking off into the distance trying to emulate the confidence I think I should have.
I feel his eyes on me, I feel…

A huge truck backing into me!! A huge pick up truck is pushing me forward. I hear Bob, Neil, whatever his name is yelling, “Hey!! Watch out!!”

Now if this were a romantic comedy- Bob or Neil would swiftly rescue from the truck plowing into me- our eyes would meet and we would promptly go out for coffee and trade witty banter and be happily married by the last scene…

But instead

I am flailing forward towards the muddy muddy ground as this truck keeps pushing me.
Neil, who has or hasn’t asked about me, who hasn’t seen me since high school is standing in front of me looking concerned.
An elderly man jumps out of his truck and people begin to shout that he almost ran me over.
I recover myself and walk a little forward almost falling face first into a drop off near the dumpster.
“Is it always this crazy around here?” I ask trying to force a smile.
“No, just since you got here.” Neil says looking me closer in the face.
“I remember you…” He says nodding his head.
“ Yeah, I remember you too…” I nod back.

“Well, nice to see you, try not to get run over too often…” He says with no emotion.

And with that he turns back to his work at the dumpster.

In the car ride my mom berates me for something she feels I am constantly guilty of.

“You don’t pay attention to your surroundings!” she shouts over the strains of ‘Nine to Five”

“Mom, I was just standing there!”

“I don’t see how you survive in the city, you don’t pay attention to your surroundings!”

I sigh and look out the window. How do I manage to survive with such a limited capacity to pay attention? She makes it seem like I walk around life with a blindfold.

A few hours later my younger brother stops in to visit. We sit in mostly silence. I struggle to make conversation.
I bring up his new girlfriend and try to offer some advice.

“Angie, you’re the last person I want relationship advise from, you’ve been single like 50 years now.”

Ouch.
“Well, it’s better to be single then with the wrong person…” I say struggling to believe what I know to be true.

“Just remember that you said that.” My dad adds helpfully.

“Yeah, Angie.” My mom is nodding toward me with sympathy.

I look down at my half empty coffee and feel the sting again. In an attempt to find something to do with myself, I pull the coffeepot which is still brewing from the coffee pot and “pour myself a cup of ambition”, in the words of Dolly Parton.

“Angie!! The coffee isn’t done brewing yet!” My mom jumps up to clean the coffee spraying everywhere.

“Angie, pay attention to what your doing!” My dad yells from the back room.

My brother shakes his head and goes back to scrolling through Facebook. The only thing breaking the silence is the little ping sound when he gives someone a like.

I look down at my red press on “gel” acrylic nails and see that that the glue is forming little black balls beneath my nails that look suspiciously like boogers. The nails were my attempt at looking “polished”.

Who am I kidding? I’m not polished. I’m not in a relationship but perpetually single. Is God doing anything there??  Doubt begins to creep into my heart as I sit at the kitchen table looking over Proverbs.
My brother, whom I haven’t seen in over a year is distant and I long to bridge the gap.

That’s it.

I call him into the kitchen. According to him I don’t care about being successful, I don’t do anything for myself but instead, “Rely on God for everything and ask God to guide me.” I willingly live in the ghetto, I didn’t finish college, etc, etc.

How to explain the hand of God in my life to him? It’s not easy explaining that I feel God Himself lead me to the house I now live in, the house in the ghetto and that I feel great peace there. How to explain that rather then finish school, I got caught up in a cult and had to quit but God restored those years I lost. How to explain that I am staying in job where I make less because when I pray I feel certain that is where I am supposed to be. How to explain turning down better paying jobs because I feel certain this particular job is God’s will? How to explain pushing away seeing a guy recently from my past whom still had feelings for me and who told me he still loved me for the sake of feeling doing otherwise was disobedience.

I could only try.

As I looked into my brother’s eyes I realized I was facing my own doubts head on. Do I trust God or not? Have I seen His glory touch my life? Have I seen His mercy in my life? Have I seen Him answer prayers time and time again? Can God really bring a godly man across my path??! Am I fool for trusting He can do this??

Maybe I look ridiculous, maybe I look like a loser in pink lipstick stumbling into a mud pile but one thing I know is my God is faithful and He has restored my life to me time and time again.

As that truck plowed into my back today, I felt a power pushing back against it so that I didn’t get so much as a scrap. Love, favor, and protection from God is worth any sacrifice.

I know my brother loves me just like I love him. My hope and prayer is someday he will know God’s love and he will understand that sometimes a walk with God has a cost. And sometimes God’s path for our lives might not look very “successful” to onlookers.

As I peel off my fake nails,  I steady my heart by recalling God’s past faithfulness in my life. I toss the nails in the trash, dust my hands, and smile because I know-God has good plans for me.