The King of Bohemia

I recently started another blog, (mostly to amuse my friends and husband), spoofing off one of Stephan's favorite nick-names for me: his Bohemian Princess.

I want to post the gospel anywhere I can, so I wrote this little story for said blog.  It's posted in the sidebar there, but I wanted to feature it here, because really - it's an amazing story.

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THE KING OF BOHEMIA

A princess implies a king.  Bohemia does have a king - and this king has a son, a son who had to come looking for me after I'd rebelled against my father.  When he found me, I'd already made such a huge mess of things...in fact I'd given myself intothe slavery of a decietful, cruel master, who'd promised me my heart's desires, but delivered only suffering.  My master wouldn't let me go without a huge ransom, which the King's son paid.  He told me the King was calling me back, and had sent him to ransom me.  But how could I face the King again?  I was a wreck - a dirty, dissobedient child.  "Here," said the son.  "Let's get rid of these filthy, crimson rags you're wearing...take my clothes, and when we get there, I'll take you into the King's presence, and I'll plead for you."  

I said I'd trust him.  And he's still there, at the King's right hand, pleading for me.

"Nothing's broken!"

You may remember the fruit fly battle of July 11th. I count that one of the best day of my life - and I was just waiting for another moment like that when I arrived at the home of the Wilcox family in early March.

A bit about the fam: I was introduced to Dad via a phone call I took at work. He explained that he was interested in attending Starting Point, and asked if he could bring his kids.

"Well," I said, "we'll never tell a parent they can't keep their children with them," I said. "You as the parents can decide whether your kids would benefit from being there, or if you'd rather them participate in our children's ministry. How old are your children?" (Innocent enough question.)

"They range from 2 to 17," He said.

I'm glad he couldn't see my eyebrows draw down. "Oh," I said, "How many are there, if you don't mind?"

"Nine," he said, without skipping a beat. I'm wish he could have see my eyebrows shoot up.

"Really!" I said, very intrigued now.

"They're very well behaved, even the 2 year old. They're used to sitting still when we ask them to. I'm sure they'd be fine in the class."

"Well," I said, grinning broadly now, "We'll have to pull out a few more chairs for you, but otherwise there are no problems! See you Sunday! Please introduce yourself!"

I love fateful days like that. They were unmistakable when they walked in that day, and they still are, every time they burst through the classroom doors to greet me and Stephan as we do our Starting Point work, even though they've long finished the class. The whole family is light-hearted, extremely articulate, devoted to each other, well mannered, wildly gifted, they love the Lord - and they're Civil War Reinactors. Talk about a cherry on top.

I was extatic the day Dad extended a dinner invitation to us. We went, we had a blast tripping over ourselves with all their names, hearing all their stories, being shown around the sewing rooms and the bicycles and the enormous pantry. We left really hoping we'd be invited back...

And we were! In early March, Mom and the 2 oldest girls were going to a conference. Dad wanted to take his oldest son to a meeting at church called Manskool (I know, pretty cool 'K' action there), which is for dads and sons, and then in the evening to another meeting (called 10:31), which is for all parents and their teenage kids.

But with mom and the other girls gone, all the family babysitters were away. And so, we were called. Could we babysit the youngest 5 in the morning during Manskool, then again in the evening during the 10:31 meeting? YES!

And so I arrived that fateful morning. Stephan was taking that time to study, so I was flying solo. I and the kiddos cleaned the house from stem to stern, and I only had one "uh-oh, lost one..." moment. We were sweeping out the garage when Dad returned. I bid farewell and promised to see everyone in a few hours, when I returned with Stephan.

And return we did. We had dinner with the family and sent Dad and oldest son off to their meeting. We had a great time with the other kids. Stephan played chess...and I think was beaten by a few of his challengers. We watched Inspector Gadget. Then, it was time for bed.

Stephan is fond of saying getting children to do anything en mass is like herding cats. No exception here. Up and down the stairs they went..."I'm just grabbing water!"..."Look at my PJs!"..."Are you going to sleep here?"

It came up that the 2nd-oldest son was supposed to start the dishwasher after dinner. We sent him to bed (he locked all the doors before going like a good man of the house!) and said we'd take care of it. And take care of it we did! ...Oh, boy did we take care of it...

That morning we'd used cleaning products unlike any I'd ever seen. Very natural and unique. So when I looked under the sink for the dishwashing detergent, I wasn't thinking "box of detergent"...I saw the bottle and held it up to read the lable.

"I dont' see any instructions for how much to use..." I said. "Oh well. Must just be the normal amount." ...and I filled up the cups.

Stephan and I then took a seat at the table. Man, I thought, we're so good at this babysitting thing... not only are the kids in bed on time, but they're intact. We've done the dishes and started the dishwasher. They're sooooo going to want us back...

What's that proverb? "Pride before a fall," or something?

"Stephan, is there any tea?" I said with a pretty little flick of my wrist. "Let's brew some and just sit and talk until Dad and Son get home."

We did brew tea. We did sit and talk, and it was a great talk for about 20 minutes. Then I set my cup down, and in turn set my hand down in something on the table, and noticed it hadn't been wiped down after dinner.

I'm going to push this right over the top, I thought to myself, standing. I'm going to wipe off the table!

So I round the counter to get a rag, and the rest I can tell only from Stephan's discription. Apparently I froze and looked like a tarantula had just crawled out from under the counter.

"What's wrong?" he asked, getting up.

At first I couldn't answer. "W...we did something wrong!" I finally managed as he rounded the counter.

The dishwasher had rabies. It was foaming from all edges, and a little ocean was puddling in front of it. I had no idea what to do.

Thank God for husbands. Stephan stepped up to the dishwasher and opened it, revealing wall-to-wall foam in side. Everything was encased. I raise my hands to my face and let out a long breath. "Oh my..." I said.

Stephan pulled the bottle of 'detergent' out from under the sink. "Is this what you used?" he asked, holding it up to me.

"Yes..." I answered weakly.

He replaced it and shut the cabinet with a smile. "That's dishwashing liquid," he sang. "You put that on rags in the sink."

I covered my face with my hands. Then I started laughing. "What do we do...?" I said.

Stephan pulled the bottom rack out of the dishwasher and handed it to me. I took it an looked around me, finally just putting it down in the center of the kitchen floor.

"Don't worry," he said. "I've made this mistake before." He then went on to explain how once, as a kid, he'd run out of dishwasher detergent and though "soap is soap", and filled up the dishwasher with dishwashing liquid as well.

"You can't tell a dishwasher to drain," he said as he rolled up his sleeves, reached into the dishwasher, and litereally pulled out a armful after armful of suds, "so we've got to get out as much of the bubbles and soapy water that we can."

"By hand?" I asked.

"By hand," he said, smiling and reachingi n for another armful.

I started regaining fuctionality then, and moved to the sink, rinsing the bubbles he put there to make them dissapate before the next armful arrived. After this, Stephan took a cup off the top rack of the dishwasher and started scooping out the soapy water that had collected at the bottom of the dishwaser. Praise the Lord I'd been there that morning when we were cleaning and knew where the mop and towels were! I took that time to clean up the floor. Last, we took sports bottles (fortunately they're all cyclists too - did I mention that?), and as Stephan sprayed down the sides, I filled the next cannon with clean water from the sink, and back and forth we went until the well at the bottom of the dishwasher was full again. Stephan scopped that out with the cup again.

About this time I realized that Dad and Son could return any minute. "What od we say when they get home?" I began rambling to Stephan as I stood behind him, mop in hand, soaking up new drips of water the moment they hit the floor. "How do you put someone at ease when they come home to find this? 'You're kids are sleeping soundly?' 'You're kids are alive?'"

Stephan endured it patiently, as he aways does. We were beginning to think we might get the whole mess neutralized when we heard banging on the garage door. I remembered that second-oldest son had locked all the doors before going to bed, so now Dad and Son were trapped outside.

"That's them..." I said, beginning to giggle. I leaned the mop against the counter and stepped over the bottom dishwasher rack on my way to the door. I grabbed the doorknob...then firmly planted my other hand on the doorframe.  When I opened the door, there was no way around me.  It was son.

"I just want to preface your entry with 'nothing's broken,'" I said, cheerfully.

His eyebrows dropped.  "Oooooooookkkkkaaaayyyyyyy......" he said, shouldering past me.  Behind me I heard his reaction.  "Oh  my gosh!  What did you do?!"  

No time to celebrate with them.  I still had to break the news to dad, who was just getting out of the car.

"Hi!" I called from my place in the doorway, and repeated what I'd said to his son.

He paused, one foot out of he car, one still in.  "Alright," he said, perfectly controlled.  "And what's the bad news?"

I toyed with saying something cute for only a millisecond.  Dad was a military man, and I knew how that crowd rolled.  I decided to just be direct.  "Bottom line up front," I said, "I put dishwashing liquid in the dishwasher, and now your floor is really clean."

He was coming in the door by that time, and came in, percieving the dishwashing rack on the floor immediately.  "Wow," he said.  "So, what happened again?"

We told the whole story again as Stephan scooped out the last of the water and I took a rag to the counter, then the mop to the floor.  Here I want to extol this family for how good-natured they are.  They listened and laughed appropriately (espeically when I recounted how I poured the liquid in even after not seeing any dishwashing instructions on the bottle).  They then poked fun at me, but all the while assuring me everything was fine.  I love people like that - ones who can laugh when things are funny, but without making anyone feel condemned.  What could have been humiliating turned out to be pretty edifying.

Everything was under control by the time we left.  We'd left the dishwasher opened so long that the cycle settings all reset and we were able to restart it with the appropriate detergent.  All reports since then indicate no permanent damage done.  Phew. 

Arlington

1999 - The Evans family got their next set of orders: not Japan, as hoped for, to in a suburb of Washington D.C.

2001 - Kari was unexpectedly (and undeservedly) accepted to a scholarship program at a local community college.


2001 - In said scholarship program, Kari met her future husband, as well as 3 members of the church she now considers the dearest place on earth.


2003 - Stephan and Kari graduate from Montgomery College with their A.A.s


2004 - Stephan and Kari wed


2004 - Stephan and Kari join Covenant Life Church - to everyone's surprise...even their own.

2005 - Stephan graduated from American University with is B.A. and begins looking for a job in his field, International Relations. He sets his sights on D.C.


2007 - Kari accepts a job at Covenant Life as the church's Starting Point administrator, getting the wildly fun job of personally greeting everyone exploring membership in the church


2008 - After years in retail management, being unable to land a job in his field, and after much prayer, Stephan returns to school to get his masters degree


2008 - Approaching his first summer of grad school, Stephan begins looking for an internship and recieves an offer...


"Wait, why are we even talking about DHS?"


I put this question to Stephan as he discribed the two interviews he was going to in the coming week. I was driving home from a training session for a crazy-fun service opportunity later that year, and he was driving home from school.


"...because I think it might be more interesting," he answered.


I chewed on that for a moment. I'd been praying for years that he'd find a job he enjoyed. I really didn't want to dismiss his honest comment lightly.


"Yeah..." I started, "...but you'd be taking an internship for the summer."


"Right," he confirmed.


"...as opposed to the position at Justice, taking an indefinite internship that would continue through your next year with flexible hours, health benefits, and the possibility of rolling into an actual job at the end..."


He was quiet for only a second.


"...yeah, why are we talking about DHS?" He laughed.


I smiled. Practicality ruled the day again. He declined the interview with DHS the following day and accepted the position at the Department of Justice.


He worked part time and finished his next semester strong. Then, in May, our marriage turned 4, and instead of a trip to a tropical paradise, we opted to go to the New Attitude (now NEXT) Conference, and serve on their excentric hospitality arm - a group of weirdos lovingly introduced to the conference attendees as "the Ninjas".


We took up a red messenger bag stuffed with toothbrushes, playing cards, and lots of candy, and surprised and delighted the folks at New Attitude by slipping in and paying for their bookstore purchases unexpectedly, saving front row seats in the main sessions, handing out pens to those who forgot them, and showering them with fistfuls of candy. It was an absolute blast.


And all that in the service of my savior. Whoa.


And, it should be mentioned that an insanely fun (or...just...insane) duo named David and Casey also served as Ninjas...and we kinda hit it off.


We returned to Maryland thoroughly exhausted after a 7 hour delay on our flight home (full of cavorting in the airport...a story for another day). But, sometime after that, life returned to the Faherty house...and David and Casey made their first appearance too. The hitting-off persisted, and they quickly became some of our dearest friends.


Conversation began to drift out into the spring of 2009, when Stephan would graduate. We were convinced now that he'd find work in DC, being as there were few other places in the country where someone with his skills and training would be in demand. His commute was rigorous, and we started discussing if moving closer to the city would be a good idea.


"We only commute to church once a week," he'd say, "and caregroup is only once a week too. I'm going down to the city 5 days a week. All the time I'm spending in the car is time I'm not with you, and won't be with our kids one day."


His argument was compelling. "Well, let's see what it would take to move down nearer Bethesda," I said. "Or, perhaps we should even check out northern Virginia. Maybe there's a tax difference or something..."


"Yeah, I'm open to anything," he said. "We just couldn't be too far from Covenant Life unless we knew there was another good church there for us."


"Right," I confirmed. A variation of this conversation had been had throughout the years, and it always ended with that exchange: there must be a church there for us, or else we won't go. Right.


Thursdays are staff meeting morning at the church, and we all gather around a big table to hear from the church's adminstrator and pray. I was sick one particular thursday, and when I got to work, I found an email waiting for me from the administrator's assistant with the minutes of the meeting. One line in particular caught my eye. I immediately forwarded it to Stephan.


"They're planting a church in Arlington," I wrote. "We'd been talking about northern Virginia...should we pray about this?"


Stephan's always snappy on email. "Yeah, we can pray about it," he replied.


David and Casey came for dinner again, as they'd become accustomed to doing. We posed the normal "What's new with you?" question and got a surprising response.


"Well, David can't stop talking about Arlington."


Stephan and I looked at each other, then to David for an explaination. Apparently his heart had been stirred up big time after hearing about the plant, and he and Casey were seriously considering being part of the team.


A 'we are too' conversation followed. We both confessed that the thought of the other going to Arlington too built faith for going themselves.


The announcement was made to the church not long after. "If you're interested in exploring being a part of this plant, there will be a meeting next Saturday," our senior pastor said.

After many "Whadayouthink?"s and about 7 days, the meeting arrived. We were all asked to fill out a little questionnaire when we got there.

"On a scale of 1 to 10," one question read, "with 1 being 'not going' and 10 being 'I'm ready to move', where would you fall in terms of the church plant?"

I confidently wrote down "5". This was all very exciting, but I still had to be sold on it. It would be a huge change.

The meeting began. We heard some logistics, saying the pastors were hoping for a summer-time launch of the church. We heard some statistics, which were also seriously compelling and interesting. Then the guy who would be leading the church as it's new senior pastor, Eric, got up to talk.

He told us about a time a friend of his had called him in a panic, saying he just needed to talk to someone. Eric told him to come on over. This fellow was what the world would call 'messed up.' He had piercings all over and tatoos to cover the rest, was addicted to alcohol and drugs, and was absolutely petrified of getting HIV from his premiscuous lifestyle.

Eric recounted how he listed to his friend, and tried to share the hope of the gospel with him. He told of his friend balled up and rocking on the floor of his deck, absolutley overcome with fear. Then he told us about what happened after his friend left, and he gathered up his wife and 3 kids, and they all prayed for him - and Eric thought as he prayed "man, I just want to do this all the time. I want to hold out the hope of the gospel to the people like my friend who the world has written off as 'messed up'."

I discreetly scratched out my 5 and replaced it with a 9. "Me too..." I thought. I didn't have exactly the same burden, but his heart to show mercy to the people society has rejected did resonate with me deeply.

We left the meeting and had a dinner with David and Casey. We were all pretty moved, but aware we'd have to count the costs.

Stephan and took stock of life over the next few days. Stephan had a job in DC. We both loved being downtown. We both had a desire to care for those with physical needs, and there was such a concentration of them in the city...it seemed like God was channeling us toward the city. We met with our pastor and he remained very involved through the whole process. As we talked more, the plant began to make more and more sense...and we slowly transitioned to saying "When we move to Arlington" instead of "If we move to Arlington"...

"Why aren't we just committing?" I asked Stephan one night. "We're already saying when, not if." It seems we're both in faith. What's holding us back?"

Stephan was very honest. "I just don't feel like I've prayed enough," he stated.

That was enough for me. When facing big decisions like this, it's absolutely critical to make the decision in faith bourne out of prayer. Otherwise, when you hit a rocky time, you'll be tempted to think you made the wrong choice. But if that decision was made in faith, you can be confident you just need to persevere. "Take all the time you need," I told Stephan.

"Give me a week," he said.

The next day he came home from work declaring he was ready to committ. "Email Eric," I said.

"Can't wait to labor with you guys in Arlington this Summer!" he responded.

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That was over almost a year ago. We'd been told the team would solidify in early 2009...but we hadn't heard anything from leadership by February. An email brought the answers for the questions we were beginning to ask. The plant would be postponned, possibly up to a year - or possible canceled.

Now we're waiting for God to lead again. Everyone who'd committed was basically released by the pastors to pray and evaluate again once more details were to be had.

Why'd we have to walk this road? It's not unprecedented that God would give a clear direction to do something, then reveal that he'd had another intention all along - take the story of Abraham and Isaac, for example. Abraham had given up hope for kids by age 100 - but then God promised him a son, and a son came. Isaac, a child of promise, was born, and Abraham loved him.

Then God commanded Abraham to slay Isaac as a sacrifice to him. Abraham was heart rendingly obedient, going so far as to hold the knife in the air over his son on the alter, when God stepped in and stopped him, saying he'd commanded Abraham to do this to see his true aligence. Abraham proved true to God.

We may be experiencing a 'slay your son' moment...where we felt God say one thing, but it turns out he's got different intentions. If so - wonderful! I'm up for the adventure! God's been so faithful to us this far in life, I'm confident he will be in the future too.

More as it developes!