I Call Praying!

For the past year, we have been fostering two young boys. They are now three and five years old, and they and our eleven-year-old have brought us much joy this year. Watching our daughter become a big sister has been amazing! She went through a few weeks of wishing she could go back to being an only child, but found grace for the changes in her life and embraced being a big sister. She's phenomenal!!!

For a year, at bedtime each night and at every meal, the children have heard and said prayers with and for each other. For a year, we've heard all three earnest voices praying for their parents, siblings, our Compassion International sponsored child, and each other. This is a sweet, sweet thing, and we treasure it.

The other day at the dinner table, we had a completely new twist on prayer: One of our three yelled (on the way to the table), "I call praying!!!!" After the laughter died down, this child was allowed to pray for our meal. We encouraged the children to consider how often they've prayed recently and which of their siblings might want to pray, too.

But...

But...

I LOVE this. So many times, adults are reluctant to pray, especially aloud. We should all be racing ahead, yelling, "I call praying!" Prayer is a chance to talk to God, after all! It's a conversation that should be never-ceasing, and we should be delighted to share it with others.

So, CALL PRAYING! Jump out there and volunteer to talk to the Almighty for a group! Get excited about talking to God!

Amen!

Beauty From Ashes

A decade ago, my husband and I were still newlyweds, empty nesters, and both working full-time. We anticipated no changes in this (well, except that we wouldn't always be newlyweds) as time went on. Brad was in seminary, but we figured that wherever he got a church call, I would be teaching.

A decade ago, in another state, our granddaughter was in the care of her mother, her grandparents, and a child welfare worker. Her mom was very young, and my son wasn't helping parent the baby. We didn't know that the state had gotten involved and taken custody of our 1 year old granddaughter. It was a difficult time for her immediate family, and especially for her mom, who loved her daughter very much, but was struggling to provide everything a toddler requires.

Our granddaughter's need for stability became God's call on our lives. We gave up our empty nest and dual-income lifestyle and began parenting a 27-month-old girl. We eventually adopted her, as the court removed parental rights from our son, and her mom chose to voluntarily relinquished her rights in order for us to adopt. We agreed that our daughter would stay in contact with her original family as much as possible. This is akin to inheriting your spouse's family as your own. They aren't always people that would naturally become your buddies, but you spend time with them anyway. It wasn't always easy, but it was always good, especially for our daughter. We have seen her birth family at least twice a year (and often more frequently) for the past 10 years.

Fast-forward to last week. Our daughter is now 11, and she wanted her mom to come to see us. We, her mom, and her mom's parents all worked to get transportation arranged for our daughter's mom. She brought her one-year-old daughter with her.

And we were so blessed.

There are no words to express the joy of watching my daughter and her mom together. The joy of big sister and little sister getting to really know each other. We shared all of our normal everyday activities with them. Our daughter's mom got to sit in on a choir practice, piano lesson, and home school lessons. She got to meet her daughter's good friends, go to breakfast at a family friend's house, and play in our favorite "hot pot" river holes.

Sometimes, adopted children (or those around them) talk about their "real" parents. Our lucky girl has two REAL moms and two REAL dads. And she knows them all. She loves them all. They all love her. THIS is open adoption at its best.

In calling us to parent this sweet girl, God opened our hearts to her entire family. It hasn't always been easy for any of us, but it has been good for all of us. And this daughter of ours is worth it...to ALL of us.

Take My Breath Away

For Brad's birthday, our family went for a hike. We frequently hike in the San Juan Mountains, a southern part of the Rocky Mountains that is near us. It is a beautiful place.

It's easy to feel God's presence in the face of so much beauty. The Bible says that the heavens declare the glory of the Lord (Psalm 19:1).

His glory takes my breath away! 



Having  your breath taken away by beauty is a glorious thing. I'm glad God gives us beauty so deep that it takes our breath away.

This week, it has been pain that has taken my breath away. A dear, dear friend with whom I used to teach has been diagnosed with an inoperable malignant tumor. It's also resistant to chemotherapy, and it's quite advanced. My friend has opted to return home under hospice care for the remainder of her days. These days are likely to be so few that I will not get to see her on our travels to the Midwest in October.

And, oh! It takes my breath away to know that the world is losing her! She is a caring, supportive, and effective teacher. Her three children are young adults now, but my older daughter was good friends with their middle son. My friend and her husband were life-savers during the darkest days of my divorce. They are precious to me.

Also in this week, the community received the news that a tribal baby who lives in a nearby town with her mom, her siblings, and her mom's boyfriend is in critical condition. Her mom's boyfriend allegedly beat her badly in front of her five siblings, after smoking meth with the mother. The boyfriend and the mom are in jail, pending charges. The baby is in the NICU in Albuquerque. The siblings are in a children's shelter. And our community is reeling. The brutality and horror of the situation took our breath away!

It's more difficult to feel God's presence in the face of so much pain. But again, the Bible speaks to this. Psalm 38 is full of pain. The author groans "because of the tumult of [his] heart." His strength "fails [him]." Even in the midst of this pain, though, the Psalmist (verse 15) says, "But for you, O Lord, do I wait; it is you, O Lord my God, who will answer." 

Even in distress and pain, we turn toward God, and He answers. In 2 Corinthians 1:3-4, the Bible says, "Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God."

We can depend on His comfort. And we, in turn, can share His comfort with others. I hold this closely as I think about my friend and her husband 1200 miles away. What can I do that would show them the love of God in this terrible situation?? And I ponder how our family can be the hands and feet of Jesus to the family torn apart by addiction and violence.  I don't know the answer, but I do know how to mail an encouraging card. I do know how to offer school supplies to the children who start school next week. I can reach out and let everyone involved in each situation know that we are praying for them. And I do know how to pray faithfully. I know that my prayers are meaningful and will be answered. That doesn't mean I think that everything I want will somehow come true. But I do trust that our powerful and merciful God will be present to those clinging to him through the pain. He will strengthen and encourage them. He will show them beauty that takes their breath away.

True Security

I've recently discovered Kombucha, a fermented tea. It has few carbohydrates in it, and that fits my current eating habits... AND it tastes different than water or iced tea! After almost two years of drinking only water, iced tea, and milk, it's lovely to have a different taste! Anyway, this morning I was taking a sip from my kombucha drink in the fridge, and I started reading the label. Not the nutrition facts (which I read a while back), but all the words, and there were a lot of them.

The words that most stuck in my mind were the Words of Enlightenment. I didn't expect to agree with them, as "enlightenment" strikes me as rather "new age," which is definitely not my belief-system. But the Words of Enlightenment were "True Security is Peace." As I mulled these words over in my head, I realized that there were two ways to think about the statement: 1) True security causes peace; and 2) Peace causes true security. Hmmm.....

I am almost 100% sure that the writer of these words didn't have Jesus in mind at all when s/he wrote them, but I did. I experience the peace that surpasses understanding each and every day. The anxiety I regularly felt before returning to Christianity was sometimes overwhelming. There is none of that in my life anymore. Not that I'm never anxious about anything! But the prevailing waves of anxiety that I lived with are completely gone.

And security? True security? Psalm 46:1 is only one of numerous places in the Bible where we are reassured that "God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble."  I cling to these truths, and I have experienced them personally and powerfully. My Lord and Savior are with me at all times, and I have a sure and certain place as a Child of God.

So, from a Christian point of view, security in the Lord creates a peace beyond all understanding. I am forever thankful for that security and that peace, both coming entirely and fully from God Almighty.

Next time you find Words of Enlightenment or a fortune cookie, take those words and look at them through the lens of the Bible. You may find the words are nonsense, but you may find a hidden jewel of Biblical wisdom to ponder.

Stranger in a Strange Land

This photo might suggest that I am "stranger" than many people... and that very well might be true! But I've been a "stranger" many times in my life, in a different sense.

I began my life with a perpetually unhappy father. Because of this, I went to 17 schools. Yes, really. I was always the "new kid." I was the one who didn't know you absolutely did not undress for PE  in my seventh grade school, AND did not know you absolutely did undress for PE in my eighth grade school. I did it wrong both places, much to my chagrin. I am the one who has no answer for "Who was your first grade teacher?" because I had three of them in three different schools. How was I supposed to remember any of them?! I was a stranger over and over.

As a very young adult, I chose to be a stranger again: I joined the Peace Corps. I was sent to Jamaica, a country that seems very similar to the United States, from the outside. From the non-tourist places that I lived, it was most assuredly a foreign land. I was on the outside in so many ways! I couldn't go shopping by myself because I was White and female. When I did go shopping with my Jamaican housemates, they got tomatoes (or whatever) at one price, and I got them at a much higher price. And what we ate?! That was strange, too. I ate goat head soup, chicken foot soup, and much more. My very limited experience in foods was expanded far beyond my comfort zone!

When I returned to the States with my husband, we found we couldn't have biological children and decided to adopt. We were open to any race, and were placed with two African-American/White biracial children. And again I became a stranger: I was a White woman with Black kids. That meant stares and comments from every side, most of them unkind. After an ugly divorce, I finished raising my Black kids in the small town in Iowa where I taught... and where my kids were two of the four Black kids in the town. Strangers, we were, no doubt.

Much later, after remarrying and adopting my granddaughter, my family moved to a Native American reservation in New Mexico. I'd always been a Midwesterner, the Southwest culture was different enough to make me a stranger again, not to mention living in a small town where we were among the very few White people. Double-stranger. And then we took in two Native American foster sons: Triple-Stranger!!

Being a stranger is fairly familiar to me, obviously. Even at 57, I'm not sure I actually belong any specific place. However, I do know that nowhere on this earth is my home. My home is in heaven with Jesus Christ, my Lord and Savior. There I will finally belong.

Here on earth, though, I've been doing a lot of thinking about being a stranger and how the Bible says we should treat strangers. Abraham was a stranger in a strange land. So was Sarah. And Lot. And the entire Israelite Nation in Egypt. Lots of strangers in foreign lands in the Bible. Even Jesus lived in Egypt as a young boy while Herod was hunting for him to kill him.

The Bible has a lot to say about strangers, foreigners, sojourners, aliens, and neighbors. Almost every word of it is requiring that we, God's people, take care of these strangers (Leviticus 19:33-34, Exodus 22:21, Matthew 25:35, Matthew 25:31-46, Galatians 5:14). In a few cases, the Bible is saying that these strangers are held to the same laws as God's people (Leviticus 22:10, Leviticus 17:8-9).

Lest someone accuse me of ignoring selected parts of God's Word, there are also portions of the Bible that clearly admonish us to obey the civil leaders of our world (Romans 13:1-7, 1 Peter 2:13). And yet, the Hebrew women just as clearly disobeyed the civil leaders when they hid their baby boys. And the disciples disobeyed civil and religious leaders when they continued to preach the gospel following Jesus' death and resurrection. Acts 5:29 says, "But Peter and the apostles answered, 'We must obey God rather than men.'"

Obey God. That is our duty as Christians. That is our joy as Christians. I have sought God's leadership on the issue of the treatment of immigrants. I have read news, opinions, and information on as many sides of this issue as I can find. And finally, I feel strongly that I cannot stand on the sidelines anymore.

We Christians of good conscience cannot allow the climate of our nation to continue to decline into "us vs. them" thinking. Luke 10 (The Good Samaritan) tells us that our neighbor can be "one of them." And in many places, the Bible tells us (Mark 12:31) to love our neighbor as ourselves.

I am not arguing that the United States should practice an entirely open border policy. Nor am I condemning particular lawmakers or any law enforcers. I am not saying that Homeland Security or ICE should ignore legitimate threats, no matter their source. I am saying that I believe Christians should be standing with the oppressed, the stranger, the poor, the orphan and the widow.

Let me say that again: I believe that Christians should be standing with the oppressed, the stranger, the poor, the orphan and the widow. In other words, we should be standing with our neighbors, loving them as ourselves.

How can we love our neighbors right now?

By standing up for those being persecuted. When you see an injustice, stand up for that person. If someone is being beaten, call the police. If the person ahead of you in the checkout line is being grilled about their method of payment, step in and say something. Tell the clerk she's wrong for berating the WIC or food support benefits user. If an Hispanic man is being forced to produce ID that you didn't have to produce for the same purpose, ask the official why. If a policy offends you, speak up. If an official shows hatred to a group of people, refuse to vote for him/her. If you didn't vote in the last election, register to vote today. Wherever people are marginalized, stand with them.

I find it hard to believe that any Christian would defend Hitler's demonization of the Jews in the 1930's and 1940's. We look back at resisters like Corrie ten Boom as heroes of the faith. As Christians, there are times we must resist. And I believe that time is now. We must resist the tendency in our society to demonize Muslims, Immigrants, and persons of color. We must stand with them as our neighbors. Loving our neighbors as ourselves.

They will know we are Christians by our love, by our love.

Wildfires

 We are physically surrounded by fires right now. Not close enough to be in danger, but close enough to bring smoke frequently. Close enough to close our favorite hiking trails and camping spots for a while. Close enough for me to be thinking about what I would take with us if we had to evacuate. Close enough that some of our normal travels for appointments are affected.

I grew up and lived in the Midwest most of my life. I remember standing in the driveway watching a tornado in the distance. I remember floods destroying my toys. I remember fighting floods in my basement as an adult. I remember "duck-and-tuck" in the boys' bathroom for hours with students of mine while tornadoes obliterated nine of the students' houses.

But fire. Oh, fire. It scares me. It's unfamiliar. It's so destructive. It lasts so long!

Yesterday, as I was walking in the morning, wary because of the smoke in the air and my asthma, I heard Sanctus Real's "On Fire."

The irony of the situation struck me. I started thinking about fire. And God. And the Bible.

So many references to fire in the Bible are from the fires of Hell. That's not what the song was about, though. The song was about being on fire for Christ. Having passion and love for our Lord and Savior. Asking God for that fire again, so that we spread God's Word everywhere we go.

And I thought about the fires around us. The crazy-burning, out-of-control Spring Fire with 5% containment and 50,000+ acres burned in less than a week. I know people with that kind of fire in their souls for Jesus. I love them! They call me to account when I approach a boundary of Christian behavior or thinking. They shout Jesus' love from the rooftops! They visit prisoners. They have radical faith. I love that!

Then there's the Burro Fire, 95% contained after burning only a week or two. It's still on fire, smoldering and flaring up occasionally. There's not much to look at there, but the fire sure isn't dead! I know people like that, too. They are the steady, solid volunteers who do the dishes, put away the chairs, and never do anything flashy. These people serve with no fanfare. They are the backbone of many churches, and I love that!

And the 416 Fire! Whoa. That one has challenged so many firefighters! At one point, there were more than 1,000 on the ground, plus air support. The firefighters have it 37% contained in incredibly rough terrain. This fire hasn't devoured one structure! It's burning in the wilderness, in steep and dry lands that leave no room for retreat for firefighters. This fire is the missionary spirit. It has so many obstacles to overcome, and in the eyes of some onlookers, it doesn't accomplish much. These Christians keep on doing God's work, even when it seems pointless. Even when not one person gains faith in Jesus Christ. Even when there seems no future, these people follow God's Call into the wilderness. They are strong in the Lord!

Which kind of fire are you? Are you one of the unnamed fires that was put out in the first day or two? Are you burning strong and slow? Wild and fast? In the wilderness?

No matter what kind of fire you are as a Christian, your fire is from the Holy Spirit. The Breath of God fans the flames, so read your Bible and receive His Breath. Fuel your fire!

Don't envy another for the fire of their faith. Follow God's Call on your life, whether that is flashy and loud or behind the scenes or in the wilderness.

The Invisible Ones

We have done a lot of traveling of late, by car and by airplane. We've been to both coasts and several locations in-between. On one road trip, I was alone with the three children. A "low-tire" light came on in our new van. I was 30 miles from anywhere, so I said a quick prayer and drove to the gas station at the southern end of the reservation where we live.

I went into the gas station and asked if there was air available anywhere. I explained that I had a low tire and three kids with me. The Jicarilla man at the counter said he'd have someone meet me "over there" by the air. I wasn't sure where the air was, or why I needed someone to meet me, but I took the kids and headed in the direction of his head nod. I drove across the highway to a service lot area, then a young man rolled down his window and said, "You need air?" Relieved, I nodded. He waved me into an area where I saw a coiled up air hose.

Getting out of the van, I pulled out my tire gauge and walked to check the front tire. The young man was already checking the passenger front tire. After I checked the front driver's side tire, I went to the rear tires. I was checking the rear tire when the young man came around the back of the van. He looked surprised and said, "I was just going to check that one." I said, "Thank you! This is the low one." I walked toward the air hose and said, "Is it okay for me to fill it? Or are you supposed to?" He said, "I'll do it."

When he was done, I said thank you to him. He stopped and looked at me for a long moment. Then he said, "No one ever gets out of their car. I always just do it. Thank you for helping." I was stunned.

No one ever gets out of their car? To help fill up their own tires with air? They expect someone else just to do it for them?

To use a cliche: What would Jesus do? Would he be one of those many who expect others to serve him? Or would he be getting his hands dirty with the tire gunk while he checks the air pressure?

Would Jesus ignore the shuttle bus drivers, the bathroom custodians, the airport concessionaires? Would he just expect them to do their jobs and make his life more comfortable, more convenient?

I doubt it. Jesus was never afraid of service. He came not to be served but to serve (Matthew 20:28). No one was invisible to Jesus.

We humans, especially we Christians, need to see the "invisible ones." We cannot fail to acknowledge, to thank, to serve Jesus in our interactions with those whose role is service. If we assume a haughty demeanor, we are walking away from Jesus. Even in the Old Testament, we are admonished to be humble:  Before destruction the heart of man is haughty, But humility goes before honor. Proverbs 18:12.

In our hearts and minds, there should be no "invisible ones." To follow Jesus is to check our pride and to develop humility and a heart for service.