Get Uncomfortable

Have you ever received good news but then immediately panicked at what it would mean for you? Maybe it was a pregnancy. Yay! Then you start calculating the cost of diapers and college tuition. It could be your best friend’s engagement. Yay! Except now you need a plane ticket, a bridesmaid dress, and somewhere to host a bridal shower to meet her Pinterest-level standards. Maybe it was a new job. Yay! Until you realize you’ll have to relocate. Or maybe it was a new pet. Yay! Wait, who’s going to feed it, walk it, and pay the vet bills? Sometimes the “good” part of our good news wears off and it dawns on us that there was a lot we hadn’t considered. It’s funny how that works, isn’t it? Soon after we get good news, fear sets in.

My husband and I are experiencing this very same thing. This past summer he was offered a new job here in Mississippi. It was everything he had hoped and prayed for. There was no question when the phone call came that our answer would be a resounding “Yes!” We were so excited! But then, reality hit. We had six weeks to sell our house, buy a new house, move our family across the country and go from big city living to small-town life. It was terrifying. We’ve been here four months now and we’re realizing what a huge difference there is between where we are and where we came from. Other than the solitary Starbucks in town (thank you Jesus for Your provision), there’s nothing too familiar about our new surroundings. Just about everything we’d become used to in the last fourteen years is nowhere to be found here, (at a minimum it’s a 1-2 hour drive away). When we pictured moving to a small coastal town in the South, we may not have realized just how small and remote it would feel. Everything from the culture, the food, and the weather is drastically different. Did I mention people are absurdly friendly and chatty here? I have yet to run an errand in which I don’t end up in a lengthy conversation with a stranger about their background, family, and upbringing. Unlike in a big city, there is no way to quickly and efficiently go anywhere. I make new friends every day whether I want to or not. We’re way outside our comfort zone here. It would be easy to slip into a state of regret. The hard days have us asking: Is this really what we wanted? Will we ever get used to it here? Was this the best decision for our kids? Was it the best decision for us? M. Craig Barnes writes in his book, When God Interrupts, “Whenever God sends a messenger with good news for us, it usually means a complete abandonment of the life into which we have settled.” Good news means getting uncomfortable.

For all the ways we’ve struggled and for all the ways our children have struggled, God’s call for our family to the Gulf Coast has certainly not been in vain. Since moving here we have led people to Christ. We have used the platform our church has to speak up on behalf of the voiceless. We have embraced opportunities to be generous and bless our community. We have encouraged new friendships, counseled new groups, and stepped into roles we’ve never been in before. Our children are learning what it means to stand out for taking the high road and they are praying for both their friends and adversaries more than ever before. These moments are what bring us joy when we’re feeling especially uncomfortable. On the days when our patience is being tested, on the days we’re missing the conveniences of our old life, on the days we long for the comforts and familiarity of our former routine, we remember what brought us to say “Yes,” to this. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, we knew we could reach more people for God’s kingdom by coming here than by staying put. All our little complaints and frustrations pale in the light of heaven. Just yesterday a close friend of my husband’s suggested that perhaps we’re not here because it was a safe bet. Perhaps we’re here to be missionaries. I know exactly zero missionaries who stepped into their field because it sounded easy. We’d better buckle up.

The coming of the Messiah wasn’t just good news, it was the greatest news the world would ever know, but it made a lot of people uncomfortable, not the least of which was Mary. As we begin the season of Christmas advent I often think of Mary, the mother of Jesus. How must she have felt upon hearing the angel’s “good news”? Amazed and overjoyed to be chosen by God, favored even! But amazement would have quickly turned to fear and confusion. Wait, what? How can she give birth if she’s a virgin? What will this mean for her reputation? How on God’s green Earth does she raise the SON OF GOD?!?! “At this point, she has just realized that her life is out of control. How can this be? A life so well constructed has to be abandoned,” (Barnes).

The angel’s good news interrupted Mary’s life in a very big way, as good news often does. It’s entirely possible Mary needed to breathe into a brown paper bag the second Gabriel departed. I’m certain I’d be sucking down Pepto Bismol through a straw if I got news like that. Yet her heart was willing. Mary left her family, her familiar surroundings, her life as she knew it. At nine months pregnant she climbed on a donkey and followed her husband to the strange, small town of Bethlehem. (Okay, fine, I guess it’s not THAT big a deal that I need to drive two hours to get to Trader Joe’s.) If that wasn’t uncomfortable enough, she gave birth in a stable, surrounded by livestock. (I may need to forgive my local Walmart for not carrying Herbs de Provence or capers. Excuse me while my snobbish ego swallows a hefty dose of humble pie.) Was it daunting? Without a doubt. But was it worth it? Indubitably. Jesus brought hope to the world. Jesus saved the world from sin. And God used Mary to do it. Perhaps the good news you received that required a complete overhaul of your plans, your finances, or your location, is going to turn out okay.

We don’t always understand the good news. We may fear what will come of it. We’re excited but also terrified. All we can do is receive it, and trust that no matter how uncomfortable we’ll need to get, His kingdom will be glorified. All these absurdly friendly and chatty Southerners? Because of them, I’ve met more new people here in four months than in years in Tucson. That makes for more opportunities (though sometimes uncomfortable) to share the love of Jesus, and that is very good news.