Jumping Off the Train

"You're so lucky you get to stay home!"

"We're on my insurance, so I have to work."

"I'd go crazy at home all day!"

"I don't know how you do it."

My husband encouraged me to write this post in response to comments like these that I hear on a regular basis. He and I often discuss our culture train, and that many intelligent people seem to have a hard time swimming against the current. They want to complain all day, yet experience near-insanity because nothing changes. 

It makes me think of the scene in "Fried Green Tomatoes" where Idgie and Ruth are on the train, throwing canned goods to the poor, and they realize they have to jump off. With the train still moving at full speed, the two plunge off, Idgie with a triumphant "Tawanda!!!", both rolling some distance and choking on flying dust until they realize they made it. I can attest that making the plunge off the train is scary. I incur remarks because I've jumped and survived. If you're fearful, please stop attempting to cover your own anxiety by patronizing those who have made the leap.

Let me say clearly that this is for those who have brought up these things with either us or someone else. I'm not addressing the single parent who may be making the best of an unfortunate situation. This is for those who love to bemoan their busyness and lot in life...especially those who are professed Christ-followers...yet refuse to step off the treadmill. 

This is hard to live out:

"I beseech you, therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that you present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable to God, which is your reasonable service." (Romans 12:2, my italics).

Aren't we wowed by stories of folks who decide to sell everything, quit their jobs, and tackle missionary work in some dangerous country where they don't know the language or customs? No doubt it's the calling of some, and a noble one. Because of their obedience, the good Gospel news is being shared, and Christ is glorified.

The truth is, it's no less noble (or scary) to be obedient to that same call, to go out on a limb and tackle the missionary work of being busy at home. Yes, you may be called to radically sacrifice. It could be cutting back hours or quitting your job altogether; it might mean not going out to dinner as much, or refraining from vacations in order to afford more time with your kids and spouse. It might look like finding your own insurance, or selling your house and down-grading so you can stay home. The issue I see in our culture is that many folks are either afraid or simply aren't willing to "cut back" anything; me-time and my "identity" trump sacrifice and reasonable service. If I have to give up my [fill in blank], forget it. And the saddest part is that it remains a chasing after the wind, because that train just keeps going and going, and we can't keep up. We weren't meant to.

Eleven years ago, this was my situation: I had a high-paying job selling pharmaceuticals; in fact, I made more than my husband, whose business was in the uncertain stage of infancy. My car was paid for, as was all gas, insurance, and maintenance; we didn't pay a dime for my cell phone. I made bonuses of at least $10,000 regularly, sometimes more. My insurance package covered any medical condition for both my husband and me. We lived in an affluent neighborhood with no worries about paying our mortgage. 

When the double pink line showed up on the stick, there was no question about my continuing to work. Why wouldn't I? We had a lifestyle to maintain; the insurance was because of my job, and my car and phone were paid for. How else would we keep all that, plus live in that expensive house? I'd have to find someone to keep my child...isn't that how things roll in this culture? 

Then the gnawing started....the Holy Spirit. My husband was in total agreement; although numerically it seemed impossible, I would have the baby and quit my job. 

Goodbye, car.

So long, insurance.

See ya, cell phone.

House, it was nice knowing you.

If God calls us, we can trust Him to work out the details. Please read that sentence again. That goes for the missionary to Africa, or the missionary at home changing diapers and wiping spit-up off your clothes. Your role is no less noble. Why on earth would I trade raising my children for pampering ungrateful doctors who complain that the free lunch set before them isn't gluten-free? For insurance and a car...really? Let's please re-think this.

I feel ridiculous even comparing this to the "living sacrifice" that those in other countries endure for Christ. Some folks have no choice, and I get that. Again, this is for those who could get off the train, but won't because of crutches that have become too easy in our country. They shouldn't be allowed to be the norm. Some have endured beatings for obedience to the Lord; others have been beheaded. If you know God is calling you to radically change your lifestyle (and it wouldn't be "radical" anywhere but here), why are you being dragged kicking and screaming to do that which is your reasonable service?  

Frazzled chasing after the wind will never suddenly morph into satisfaction and joy. It's imperative to say these things because too many people talk to me about the overwhelming inertia of daily life, and how things are just "crazy." If this touches a nerve or tugs at your heart, maybe it's for you. I told these things to a lady once, and she went nuts, turning on me about how I needed to mind my own business. People want to vent as long as their frustration is affirmed. About six months later, this lady was ecstatic to tell me the changes she had made in her life, and how she was getting off the train. She has allowed God to see her family through in obedience, and she's not sorry that she jumped. You'll never regret for putting family first, no matter how weird it looks to the rest of the world. It's what you're supposed to do.

I didn't finish my story that I began! The dreaded call to my boss was met with, "You're doing the right thing. My wife has never been sorry she stayed home." It honestly wouldn't have mattered if he'd have told me to go jump. I knew God gave me that baby because no one else could be a better mom to her. We bought an eight-year-old van from a local professor. It wasn't fancy, didn't have leather seats, and had a tape player....it was four wheels, paid for in cash from savings. I was thrilled!

The day the "For Sale" sign went into the front lawn, a couple from Hawaii begged to see the house. Sold! We moved to a county with lower taxes, down-grading to a house that was $100k less. This was back in the days when individuals could manage their own insurance through a Health Savings Account (don't get me started), so we put aside money each month for that. Today, we participate in a plan called Medishare, a catastrophic plan where we pay as if we were cash-payers. And you know what? If a big bill ever comes (and it has), hospitals are happy working out a plan. Don't be scared that you don't have $10,000 to pay back all at once.

We eat out occasionally and it's a treat. We don't have credit cards, and if we can't afford it, we don't buy it. We're every retailer's worst nightmare. My idea of thrills is browsing Goodwill, or paying a quarter at the library for a discarded book. We don't have cable, but pay ten bucks a month for Netflix. Aldi is my home away from home.

All of this didn't come overnight. I was able to trade the hardwood for stained carpet and thin walls because I knew it was right, but it still was strange...for a while. What a blessing those years at that house were! I watched my babies grow, started homeschooling, and delighted in friendships with my neighbors. We had cookouts, played on the swing set (it had come with the house!), blew bubbles in the yard, colored pictures, and learned to live simply. I learned to grieve deeply in that house as I lost two babies in early pregnancy and a dear friend across the street. That house is part of my walk with God; it's part of who I am today, even though we've moved on.

If you're feeling empty because you're stuck on the train, I say with complete confidence that, although it's scary and weird at first, you will not regret jumping off. Rarely do we know what's involved in getting away from cultural norms, but we can guarantee there's a sacrifice. We have no idea what it has cost someone to be obedient; don't throw condescending statements at those who have had the courage to live contrary to the culture. Anything worth doing will indeed come with a price. Take it to the One who knows all about sacrifice, and let His blood cover yours.

On that note...

Here are some pictures I snapped of our pal Chippy, the sparrow who is delighting us with his presence for the second year in a row:

Singing at the feeder

His other favorite perch, outside the kitchen window

Until next time!