Foolish Builders. Nagging Wives. Crocodiles. And Stallone.

This guy. He's got more faith than me.

Yesterday he told me he was offered a project, a remodel of an office building. My eyes lit up. A good construction project would put a chunk toward a barn...or orthodontics x 2...or a new pair of jeans.

"I told him no." He said, without batting an eye.

 "Are you crazy??? Don't you know we need a cash infusion right now? What are you thinking??? We need to build a barn. We're still not sure how we'll do this over-budget "free" event. And we're going to have to hire help just to get everything done in time!!" I'm pretty sure my eyes rolled back in my head...as this good wife bit her tongue and said none of this. Instead of losing it on my husband, I prefer to save it for the blog.

Because of course, he is right. We couldn't do it. It would be impossible. We can't work 80 plus hours a week milking donkeys and getting everything ready for the event in November, AND take on a extra (oh-so-lovely, well paying) construction project.

But in spite of that, I wanted him to say yes. I really wanted that project. I really, really miss that security blanket of "real jobs".

And we need to build a barn. We really need a barn. And barns, like health events, don't come cheap.

When it comes right down to it, here's the truth of it. I miss the days of shopping and buying whatever I want. New cars without dents and dings. Vacations. I really miss vacations. I miss being somewhat well off, having employees, and paying someone to clean the house once in a while, just because.

Because I really don't like having to depend on God. It's not much fun. In fact, it's actually quite terrifying. Anyone who tells you otherwise has never really had to depend on Him. Picture the movie scene in Cliffhanger, where the girl is hanging onto the hero's hand by her fingertips.

Depending on someone else is terrifying business. (Even when you know He has a better grip than Stallone.)

So, there's that, and I'm selfish to the core.

So I'm writing this to remind my selfish self. Why we're doing this Hee Haw for Health. Why we're milking donkeys instead of building projects and bank accounts.

I remind myself of the message from the mom, thanking me for having this event for our kids, "Thank you! S---- helped me get booked with some of the practitioners today! I am so grateful you are doing this I can’t even put into words!!!"

I remind myself of the picture of the little boy on my fridge, that drinks our milk and smiles for the camera.

I remind myself of the mom who came here for her daughter's free jar of milk, and when I suggested she go see a certain doctor (not covered by insurance), she told me she couldn't afford the $125 consult. Because she only had $18 in the bank.

I remind myself of the Grandmother who donates milk money. Every. Single. Month. Because she believes in what we're doing. And her granddaughter is living proof.

I remind myself of the Veterinarian sent to save Snow White, not once, but...oh, I lost count of how many times. Not because he has a love for donkeys, but because he has a heart for the children their milk is helping every day. (I think the donkeys have grown on him a little too. Horses Schmorses.)

I remind myself of the volunteers who've scooped poop and cut down poison ivy and itched for weeks to get us this far.

I remind myself that this land, this farm, was a straight up, undeserved, absolute gift from God. Paid for by His check book (signed by the OTA). And that we promised to use it for Him.

But it's hard to remember those details at 3 am.

At 3 am, I think we're the biggest idiots, on a grand, public scale.

Idiots attempting to do something that we're totally insufficient for. We're the builder who didn't count the cost. The financial cost. The emotional cost. The time cost. The sleep lost...

What were we thinking? Having a free event on our farm? No one does this. Because it's nuts. Free events aren't free. (In case you were considering having one, email me. I'll send you my spreadsheet. The numbers don't add up. It's comical, really.)

"Which of you, wishing to build a tower, does not first sit down and count the cost to see if he has the resources to complete it? Otherwise, if he lays the foundation and is unable to finish the work, everyone who sees it will ridicule him, saying, ‘This man could not finish what he started to build.’" Luke 14: 28-30

Yep. That's us. Not counting the cost. Just jumping in blindly and trusting it will all work out.

I wanted that project. Because it would be so much easier than this. And November 2nd is right around the corner. And I don't know HOW we're going to get everything done. We aren't strong enough. Not rich enough. Not smart enough.

This morning I searched for the verse above. I searched for the word foolish, because, in my mind, that verse talked about a foolish builder. And we're the epitome of foolish builders. Only, that verse apparently doesn't have the word foolish in it.

Instead, I found this.

"Are you so foolish? After beginning by means of the Spirit, are you now trying to finish by means of the flesh?" Galatians 3:3

Ouch. 

I forgot that bit.

We didn't start this thing.

I've been trying, straining, sweating, stressing...about how WE are going to finish this. In our flesh. In our strength. And I've been nagging. A lot.

Because it's impossible.

The good thing is, this was never about us. It was always a nutty, huge dream that could never happen without some Supernatural Help. And I'm not talking about caped crusaders and men in masks. Or Stallone.

Who needs a nice, paying project, when you can do a free event for sick kids that can't possibly happen unless God shows up in a big way? That's a no brainer.

Door number two, please.

Because when the impossible happens, we won't be able to take the credit for it. Otherwise, we could pat ourselves on the back and say "good job, look at what we did, we're so amazing." Which, obviously, we aren't. 

But we are, apparently, totally nuts.

But then again, I think God kind of likes nuts. 

• Noah. Building a boat when it had never rained. There was no word for rain. No such thing.
• John the Baptist. Eating bugs and living in the woods. No salary there. Emergency fund? Forget about it. Keeping your head on your shoulders until retirement? Not likely.
• Mothers making baskets that float and sending their baby down Crocodile Nile on the off chance of God showing up via a Princess with a serious penchant for eyeliner.
• Donkeys. Seeing angels and talking.

You never know what might happen when you step out in nuts. I mean, faith. 

PS. I wish I was writing this from a place of peace, and trust, and faith. But I'm still stressing. And I'm still nagging. Just in case you think I'm not. I am. Just being honest. Pretty sure Moses' mom sent Miriam to watch because she was 99% sure her baby was going to be crocodile lunch with a side of pitch, and she couldn't stand to watch it happen. But, give her some credit....she still built the basket. So, we'll keep building the basket. And hope for the best. And try not to nag my husband until he moves out to the barn.

Oh, wait...we still need a barn. 

Until then...trees make great hitching posts. And they work for hammocks too. In case of nagging wives.