Green Pastures, Porches, and Buckets
Hitting the ceiling of our human tolerance is a common experience for all of us navigating this journey called “life”. Bumping up against that ceiling happens even more frequently when living as an expatriate in a foreign land. The cultural differences, the absence of family, the political tensions, the lack of home comforts and a long list of “more”, tests the strands of resilience and grit. Each ceiling hit being unique and different for each of us. The more we bump that ceiling of high stress, the more water in our “buckets” (souls) gets sloshed out. Without care and attention that bucket can run dry. On our recent annual leave, as the plane took off from the Beirut, Lebanon runway, I recognized that I had been bumping up against that ceiling too often and that my bucket had only a little water sloshing around in the bottom. I asked the Lord to lead me into green pastures and to restore my soul besides still waters as I returned “home”. Darron and I are not used to li