A little thing called the "VRI"

So, if you're Southern Baptist, you may have heard what's happening with IMB these days. It's a little thing called the VRI. Essentially, IMB is cutting 600-800 overseas and home office positions to regain a healthy financial position. This is a good thing, and I applaud our leaders for the courage to take these very necessary steps.

What this means, though, is that during "Phase 1," IMB is offering a voluntary retirement incentive to overseas workers and home office staff who are at least 50 years old with 5 years of service.

That means I'm qualified.

I've joked over the past few weeks that at least I'm qualified for something. I just didn't expect it to be retirement.

In the days between the announcement and receiving my packet yesterday, I've had time to think and pray a lot about what this means for me personally.

Most of all, it's OK. I see it as a new opportunity to trust God. In many ways the VRI decision looks no different than other perplexing situations I've faced, situations that taught me to completely depend on Him, including the decision to follow His call to serve overseas with IMB in the first place. Throughout our lives and particularly over these past 16 years with IMB, He has led us every step of the way: From Powell, Tennessee to the Philippines. From the Philippines to South Korea. From South Korea to Thailand and from Thailand to Richmond, Virginia. We never moved on a whim. We always sought Him, and we are convinced that we are in this place at this time for His purposes. He knows what He's doing.

So, what does trusting God look like to me? Here are five practical applications:

1. Don't get sucked into the negative. I can't believe the number of blog and social media posts I've read that play up the negative and look for the hidden agenda in all of this. Really? How does this kind of rhetoric get us where we need to be? 
2. Position yourself to respond to God's direction. When we were praying through moving from Powell to the Philippines, I often prayed, "Lord, don't leave us alone until we are where You want us to be." I never want to be so encumbered or tied so tightly to a place or a position that I'm not willing to allow God to redirect me. This positioning might look different in different circumstances and seasons of life, but it's an important step for me to allow God the space to work. 
3. Explore options. OK, so I hadn't planned for this "thing." It may not be happening in my timing. What's next? I can't know where God is leading if I'm not willing to explore options. Granted, I don't have to follow through on any of them, but at least it helps to be aware of the opportunities. One of them just might be God's perfect plan for this time.  
4. Relax. This is always one of my favorites. Take a deep breath. Focus, and remember Who is in in control. Although it sounds like a cliche, He really isn't surprised by any of this. And He will finish what He has started in my life. 
5. Wait. So far, I can honestly say that I have no idea what God wants me to do with this. I also know that He will make His path clear. And if He chooses to remain silent, I'll stay right where I am. Moving when God intends you to stay can be just as disastrous as staying when God wants you to move. I try to follow this time-honored advice: If God is silent, trust the last word He gave you. He will speak when He is ready.  

So I'm trying to take my own advice: Travel light and wear comfortable shoes, ready and willing to go or stay as God leads, however that looks, whenever He's ready. 

Thanks for your prayers!

Travel light! 

Warning: When I am an old woman ...

To complete today's celebration of my 50th birthday, I will close with one of my favorite poems by Jenny Joseph. Many of you may know it well. I first heard it as a sophomore in high school in English class. I loved it then, and I love it now ...

WARNING: 

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.

I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.

I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick flowers in other people's gardens
And learn to spit.

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.


Jenny Joseph
Poem taken from http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/warning/
Image borrowed from http://www.souvenirpress.co.uk/2011/07/warning-when-i-am-an-old-woman-i-shall-wear-purple-jenny-joseph/

50 years: What now?

This week marks the beginning of the second half-century of my life. From the time I committed my life to full-time Christian service as a 14-year-old, I’ve wanted my life to count. I want to make a difference. As I look back at the last half-century and forward to the next, this is how I feel:

1. Profoundly grateful

According to a study by Harvard Medical School, children who contracted cancer between 1979 and 1982 are the first to survive childhood cancer. Prior to 1979, kids who got cancer simply died. I was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Disease in 1981 and am part of that first group of cancer survivors. I am profoundly grateful that God has allowed me to reach the half-century mark. I am even more grateful that those years have been filled with the blessings of family and friends across the globe and the wonder and privilege of seeing Him work among all sorts of people in all sorts of contexts.

2. Eager to serve

As I look to the future, I am also eager to serve. As the Israelites stood on the cusp of entering the Promised Land, Moses reminded them of the way God led them through 40 years in the wilderness (Deuteronomy 8:32). As we stand on the edge of a new era in my organization with new leadership and vision, I am both terrified and exhilarated. Although I don’t know how all this will play out specifically over the next few months, I know that God will prove Himself faithful, and I am eager to be a part of His plan, however it looks.

3. A little confused

And finally, I’ll admit that I’m a little confused. Looking back, every decision and experience in my late teens and twenties was uniquely designed by God to move us where He wanted us to be. Through my thirties and forties, we knew, in spite of the challenges of international living and ministry, that we were where God wanted us. When we chose to come back to the U.S. in 2012 and transfer to full-time staff in November 2014, we could sense God’s leading.

But since we’ve been to the “ends of the earth” and experienced God’s presence and power in inexplicable ways, what now?  Every sermon and plea that calls for workers to make Him known tugs at my heart — because I’ve been there. I understand the need. I get the urgency. The harvest IS plentiful, but the workers are few. But instead of “there,” I am “here,” by God’s leading. So questions remain: How do we best exalt Christ in the “normalcy” of day-to-day life in America? How do we make Him known among those who've yet to hear in the ordinariness of mortgages and car payments and 40-hour work weeks and after school activities?

I don’t pretend to have this figured out, but I am certain of this: the promise of Philippians 1:6 is just as true for me at age 50 as it was at age 14. He will finish what He has started. I just need to trust Him.

So at 50, this is where I stand (so far, without a cane): trusting Jesus is enough. The rest is just details.

Travel light and wear comfortable shoes!

Ann