31 March 2011

On Sunday we dedicated Pup to the Lord. I don't know what your church tradition is, but this one comes from the fact that Mary and Joseph dedicated Jesus to the Father when he was an infant. There is also precedence with Hannah dedicating Samuel, and maybe some other babies. I don't know as much about the background as I probably should. But when I read that Jesus was dedicated at the temple, that was good enough for me! :)At our church, the families who are dedicating their children come on stage and our pastor prays over them. Then, the rest of the staff have an opportunity to offer words of encouragement or prophesy. The staff have been praying, asking God what he wants to impart to these parents and children, and then they give these word-gifts to the families at the dedication during the Sunday service.Our pastor's wife told us that she had a very clear picture of Pup in early elementary school out on the playground. He was a leader among his peers and a champion of the underdog. He stuck up for those who were picked on and stood up for justice. She said it wasn't necessarily anything Aa and I had worked hard to impart to him; just part of his make-up, a gift of God for his life. Another pastor also confirmed that Pup would be a lover of his fellow man (and child!) and that he will be a defender of the weak. He went on to say that Pup will lead by example in this area.Of course, both Aa and I were teary as we heard these words of destiny spoken over our son. I had even toyed with the idea of naming him Justice because I felt some inklings of this before he was even born! I am amazed (again) by what God is doing in and through and for our son, before he is even 3 months old!

26 January 2010

Well, friends, I've taken you this far on our adoption journey and I know a lot of you are invested in this right along with us. One of my friends even said she's never had such an intimate look into the heart of adoption. And that is what prompts me to share this post with you today.

The reality of adoption is that here we are again, facing a temporary set-back. I really don't want to go into all the details here, but, on Monday (the 24th) we were thinking we'd be having the placement ceremony (where we would take custody, but not a full adoption because there is still more paperwork to be done over the following months) on Thursday or Friday (27th or 28th) of this week. We were all very excited about the possibility of getting in the car on Wednesday to be with our BB. I had spent the morning buying BB's formula, bottles, and diapers since the trip was impending. Pea even made this drawing at school.It shows the four of us in our van (big purple circle around us), driving to get BB. The kids are wearing their seatbelts (black lines across them) and watching a movie (gumball machine in the middle). The flower next to me is the steering wheel. On the back it says: "I am gown (going) to have a babe (baby) and it is a bow (boy) his nam (name) is (BB) and he is gown (going) to be brown (he's bi-racial)." She even asked if she could read this to the class!

All of this joyful preparation was interrupted when I got a call last night saying there was another delay. To say I was disappointed barely scratches the surface. All the gleeful gathering of supplies I had done that day seemed a mockery to me.

It was about 5:10 PM when I answered the phone. When I hung up, I fell apart, sobbing from my very toenails on up. I expected Aa home any minute and wanted to pull myself together so he wouldn't walk into the house to discover the puddle that had formerly been his wife. But, as soon as I gained control, I thought about having to tell him and the torrents overtook me again. So, puddle he did find.

"What's wrong?"
"It's...(sob, sob)...nothing permanent...(sob, sob, sob)... It's just (sob) a delay (sob, sob, sob) but we can't go for BB (sob, sob) until (sob) next week." (Utter dissolution)

Having thoroughly besmirched his shirt, I began to tell him the details, well-laden with grief, anger, and disappointment. Feeling the same, he suggested we call back our case worker. She kindly repeated everything she'd told me, answered a few more questions, and complimented us on our sweet spirits. I told her she wouldn't have thought me sweet had she seen the tantrum that filled the space between phone calls. She smiled and then prayed with us and vowed to let us know when she heard any news.

After we hung up with her, I recalled a verse that came up in a Bible study I attended Monday morning. Isa 49:25b: "For I will contend with the one who contends with you, And I will save your sons." Now, that's an Old Testament verse and I think it needs to be illuminated by the New Testament. Eph 6:12: "For we are not fighting [contending] against people made of flesh and blood, but against the evil rulers and authorities of the unseen world, against those mighty powers of darkness who rule this world, and against wicked spirits in the heavenly realms." My mama-bear proclivities rose to the surface and, boy, did I want to contend with powers of evil! But, mama bears have to tend the cubs already in the den, so I had to hold that thought and feed my hungry family.

Today I have had a lot of quiet time to think on all this. I even went to church this mid-day (they have been opening the sanctuary for prayer 11:30-1:30 every weekday) to pray. As I approached the throne of grace, I felt I ought to come contending. But, I found, I really don't know how to contend in the spirit. I'm sadly lacking in spiritual warfare prowess. All I could do was beg. And that seemed all wrong too. Quickly, I felt Him nudging me, whispering (and I don't mean audibly, just speaking to my heart), "Daughter, that verse you're clinging to... it says I will contend on your behalf. I will save your son."
"Oh. Well, then, what am I supposed to do?"
"Be still and know that I am God.* Remember who I am and what I've already done for you."
"But I'm afraid! This isn't just about me missing out on a few more days of holding BB. It isn't just about me missing out on his coos and the little ways he changes every day. This is about his DESTINY, God! His whole future is hanging in the balance here. This is BIG!"
"Yes, my child. It is. Do you remember a few weeks ago, in December, when you thought it looked like none of this would come to pass? Can you not trust me?"

There was soft worship music playing in the sanctuary and the lyrics were just extolling God. I felt a little abashed. "How could I forget? How could I forget who You are? I'm sorry. I get it. But I'm so weary. This has been almost 2 weeks of the most extreme emotions, from one end of the spectrum to the other, back and forth. I'm overwhelmed and exhausted."

"Come to me, weary woman, heavy-burdened, and I will give you rest.** Let me contend for you while you rest. You've borrowed many woes with your 'what-ifs.' Just stay in this moment, resting on My promises, My Word, My character."

"Oh yeah. I know I have spent many tears on things that may never happen. But, it's scary to think about never being allowed to hold my son again. Help me turn my thoughts to You, though, when they start to carry me away."

I sat there a while longer, just reminding myself who He is, and soaking in His presence. When I got home, there was a reply to an email I had sent the night before to AB's case worker for her to pass on to AB for us. My note said:

Dear AB,

I just wanted to touch base with you while these delays are going on. I know you are very disappointed. I know you know we are too. I don't mind telling you I wept another bucket of tears when I got the call that there would be a delay in getting to be with BB. We are so looking forward to being united as a family. But, I wanted to share with you a verse that is bringing me peace and hope. It is Isaiah 49:25b. It says, "For I will contend with the one who contends with you, And I will save your sons." I know that "the one who contends with you" is no person, but Satan and the forces of evil. God is fighting for what is good and right for BB; He will save our son. I'm confident of that. And, Aa and I are contending in the spiritual realm as well. Just wanted you to know we're disappointed but not discouraged.

Faith and hope to you,
R and Aa

The response said: "I called AB and read this to her....She was touched...I was touched....Traci (social work intern) was touched!!! God will Win!"

And that got me to thinking... During the hours I spent at the hospital with AB and BB, I prayed that God would woo her to Him, that all of this adoption experience would strengthen her relationship with Him, that He would continually reveal Himself to AB through BB's story. So, it occurred to me, that maybe, maybe that's what's going on here. This very well may be for God's glory. In fact, I know He will use it to bring glory to His name. And, that's good enough for me!

I have said that we gave BB the middle name Immanuel because we know that God has been with us (AB and BB included) through all of this. And, I have said that I believe BB's story will be told widely and that it will bring glory to God's name. So, why was I surprised that it got hard again?! Silly me!

Adoption is so close to God's heart, so integral to His plan, indeed to who He is as our Father, that we should just expect it to be opposed. We should just expect the roller coaster to dip a few times. But, the thing is, the dips are what makes the heights glorious. And, when we look back on this time, we will see that God did contend on our behalf and that He saved our son. It will be obvious that God did this thing, that no man or power of darkness can overcome Him. And He will get the glory. Amen.

(If you are concerned about the practical side of all this, we are now looking at doing the placement ceremony on Wed, Feb 2.)

*Ps. 46:10 "Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth." Pretty good stuff right there!
**Mat. 11:28 "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest."

12 December 2010

I'm probably the last Christian on the planet to get this, but I'm excited about it, so bear with me. Our sermons this month our on the topic of belief, doubt, and unbelief. This morning we looked at the story in Mark 9:14-24.

		At the foot of the mountain they found a great crowd surrounding the other disciples, as some teachers of religious law were arguing with them.
		The crowd watched Jesus in awe as he came toward them, and then they ran to greet him.
		"What is all this arguing about?" he asked.
		One of the men in the crowd spoke up and said, "Teacher, I brought my son for you to heal him. He can't speak because he is possessed by an evil spirit that won't let him talk.
		And whenever this evil spirit seizes him, it throws him violently to the ground and makes him foam at the mouth and grind his teeth and become rigid. So I asked your disciples to cast out the evil spirit, but they couldn't do it."
		Jesus said to them, "You faithless people! How long must I be with you until you believe? How long must I put up with you? Bring the boy to me."
		So they brought the boy. But when the evil spirit saw Jesus, it threw the child into a violent convulsion, and he fell to the ground, writhing and foaming at the mouth.
		"How long has this been happening?" Jesus asked the boy's father. He replied, "Since he was very small.
		The evil spirit often makes him fall into the fire or into water, trying to kill him. Have mercy on us and help us. Do something if you can."
		"What do you mean, `If I can'?" Jesus asked. "Anything is possible if a person believes."
		The father instantly replied, "I do believe, but help me not to doubt!"

I don't know about you, but I've always felt like Jesus was a little ticked with everybody throughout this encounter. He seemed short, maybe even scornful. But this afternoon, as I meditated on this passage, I totally changed my mind. I'm not really even sure how I could have ever seen Jesus having even an edge of nastiness toward this desperate man.

Now, to be sure, he was probably a little edgy when he rebuked the people for being an "unbelieving generation." But, frankly, I don't think he was responding directly to the father who had just spoken to him. Nor do I think (now) that he was rebuking his own disciples. I think he was upset with religious folks who liked to stir up unbelief and arguments. This poor, desperate father came to the disciples seeking healing for his traumatized son. You can just hear the taunting and derision coming from the scribes before the disciples really even have a chance to petition God to heal him. No wonder Jesus was upset with them.

Later, with the son convulsing and seizing right beside them, the father pleads with Jesus, "But if you can, take pity on us and help us!" Picturing this scene in my mind, I see this father dissolving under the combined weight of his son's problem and his extreme disappointment. He has probably tried every doctor, every spiritist, every possible avenue of restoration for his son, all to no avail. I see him on one knee, weeping streams of tears down his cheeks as he describes to Jesus how his son's ailment has caused him to nearly kill himself more than once. And, when he asks for Jesus' pity, I simply can't see my Jesus responding in any other way.

As the camera in my mind shifts it's focus to Jesus, I see a depth of compassion in his eyes that this father has never seen in any healer's eyes before. I see my Lord's hand on this man's shoulder as he gently beckons him from doubt to belief, "If you can? All things are possible to him who believes." It's like he's saying, "I know you don't know me yet, but I love you with every cell in my body, and the same for your son. I can do this. Believe me, I can and will do this for you."

You know how I know that Jesus is not rebuking him, scoffing at him as I once thought? Well, first of all it just doesn't fit into Jesus' character. But, listen to the father's response: "Immediately the boy's father cried out and began saying, 'I do believe; help my unbelief.'" If Jesus had been anything but kind and gentle, I can't see this father throwing himself further into the encounter. He would have withdrawn, realizing he didn't have the kind of faith required. But, what really happened is that he threw himself further onto the mercy of Jesus. The mercy Jesus showed him encouraged him to ask for more help.

I wonder how often I've wrongly expected Jesus to be harsh with me when all he really had was compassion for me. I wonder what I've missed out on because I thought he would rebuke me instead of embrace me. Makes me kinda sad to think about that. But, one thing's for sure--I won't so easily make that mistake again!

15 June 2010

Saturday evening, A and I had the opportunity to go to a leadership development event at our church. The speaker was Dr. Frank Harvey, our pastor's pastor, who also spoke at our regular church services Sunday morning. (What follows is a blend of what Dr. Harvey taught in all three messages and what I think about it. If you find any wrong thinking, it's mine!) He spoke about God's creative power in us. God is a creative God and since we bear His image, we are creative too. In His power, we can be a part of bringing into existence new things, things that haven't been seen or done before. But, in order to do that, we first must see the new thing. We have to see beyond what is to what can be, what will be, what God wants to bring into our reality. That's why God is a giver of visions, dreams--so that we can see what He wants to do.

A while back I blogged about the similarities between our journey of faith with the adoption and Abraham and Sarah's walking out their faith in God's promise to them. Pastor Frank brought up Abe and Sarah's story and how God gave Abe a vision of his descendants when He told him to look at the number of stars in the sky. It takes faith to believe that what God has shown you will become reality. In fact, Hebrews 11:13 says "All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance." Before the promises were made reality, Abe and the others saw the truth and believed.

Hebrews 11:1 says, "What is faith? It is the confident assurance that what we hope for is going to happen. It is the evidence of things we cannot yet see." Now, I've heard this verse many, many times before, but I got to thinking about that word "evidence." Evidence is the proof of something that happened. Evidence is the result of something. Evidence in the courtroom is something left behind that tells the story of what happened, or it can be the testimony of an eye-witness. So, "evidence" of something that hasn't happened yet is a bit of an oxymoron. I think I may have even heard a movie line once to the effect that you can't prove what hasn't yet occurred (bonus points if someone can tell me where I got that!). It's like the very fact that He told me He was going to exceed my expectations regarding this next adoption, and I believed Him, is the proof that it will happen. Faith is the proof that what is not yet reality will someday come to pass. Kinda trippy, huh?

Other translations of Hebrews 11:1 relate the first part of the verse as "Faith is the substance of things hoped for..." Substance. Substance is observable. Touchable. Holdable. It has weight and reality. In fact the Greek word can be translated as "basis, foundation" or even "existence." Faith is the foundation of our hope. It sounds almost cyclical--we hope something God promised will come to be because we have faith. Our faith supports our hope and makes it real. Faith is the part of the promise that exists in our present reality. It's not some namby-pamby hope like "I hope it doesn't rain today." Not a wish. Not something left to chance. But a reality.

In my situation, I KNOW that God will come through. I don't know how I know. I don't have to work up the knowing. I just KNOW. He said it; He'll do it. He showed me what He could do and I know He'll do even better than that! I've never really had faith like this before. Maybe that's why I never really considered the faith-evidence oxymoron before. Just something I'm thinking through.

30 May 2010

I mourned the loss of our adoption match a little more this morning. It just hit me, after days of being okay with it all, that we probably would have been leaving today or tomorrow to go get our son if nothing had changed. I wept and wept during the sermon. Then the verse that God gives us "joy instead of mourning" (Isa 61:3) came up and hope resurged. He has been so good, so kind, so comforting during this time of sadness for us. And, He just keeps reminding me of the promise and the hope. We keep giving Him this sadness, and He keeps pointing us to the joy that is just around the corner.

Just in case all this doesn't translate well in black and white, I'm not trying to point out that I'm some sort of super-spiritual saint who is sanctimoniously enduring this suffering for Jesus' sake. It's not that at all. I'm lost in wonder and mesmerized by the grace of the Shepherd leading us through this experience. Even in my past adoption disappointments (and other disappointments along the way), I've never had this sense of His closeness, His comfort, His promise, His involvement. I'm sharing because I'm surprised! I'm sharing because it's never been like this before. The disappointment and mourning are very, very real. But somehow, the hope is even more real. Somehow, for some reason I don't even know, this moment in time is one of the holiest I've ever known.

Ug. I don't feel like I'm conveying this well at all. If you haven't had this sort of God-experience, I'm not the one to explain it to you. All I can say is I'm falling way deeper in love with Him. The very same type of experience that threatened to drive me from Him in the past is driving me now deeper into love, deeper into hope, deeper into faith. But only because of His leading. I'm just following His cues. I don't know what changed, but I like it!

Nope, there's still no news about our current adoption. Uuuugh. I had a friend ask, kindly, not long ago what had gone wrong. Nothing has gone wrong. Nothing has happened at all. We've been waiting for a match since August and it feels like it's been a really long wait.

People often recommend other agencies or going the foster care route. We're not opposed to these, but we just don't feel that is the path God has called us to. It's so tempting to "widen the net" and I went so far as to do an afternoon of internet research on other possible agencies. But, it just feels wrong. I feel like we have the freedom to sign on with another agency, but it would not be an act of obedience. In fact, I feel like it would be the opposite--an "act of lack of faith" so to speak. A hit the nail on the head when he said it feels a bit like Abraham and Sarah--having the promise of a child and finding our own way to hurry the blessing into being. That didn't turn out so well for them in the long run.

I have no idea why it is taking so long for us. It's a tremendous act of faith to give up my jealousy when I hear of another family (sometimes even a family who wasn't trying to be matched!) receiving a match. It's a tremendous act of faith to stay here. To stay right where we are. To not back out and give up. To not get anxious and move in to areas God has not directed us to go. I doubt Abe and Sarah felt like God had a good reason for delaying their promised child. I doubt they even understood His reasons after Isaac arrived. When Abraham was walking his son up the mountain to sacrifice him, he probably was still wondering why God had made them wait so long for this child, especially since the plan was just to kill him young anyway. But, Abraham let the question remain and acted on faith instead. I guess we're not so unlike that. There are lots of questions without answers, but we have to go the direction of faith. So, no foster care, no changing or adding agencies, just staying the course and waiting. And hoping. And believing.

Editor's Note: As I've told you before, I sometimes use this blog to "think out loud." Sometimes I wait to write until I've got things all sorted out (for the moment anyway, I'm only 33 after all), but sometimes I just have something fomenting and need to get it out of my brain and into a workable format, even if it is half-baked. This is the latter type of post. So, feel free to give feedback, but first give grace. Lots of it. Thanks.

Before I left for Uganda, I was asked to read "The Hole in Our Gospel" by Rich Stearns, president of World Vision US (a Christian global relief agency), in order to prepare for the trip (everyone on the team was, not just me!). I'll confess that I didn't finish it before we left. Smack in the middle there's a section with a lot of statistics and I got a little stuck up in that. But, I enjoyed and related to a lot of the beginning and thought maybe the end would be good too. So, I picked it back up again. The point of the book is that Jesus came for more than our personal salvation. He even came for more than that plus as an example of how to live. He proclaimed his own mission as including freeing prisoners and the oppressed. Rich asserts that that freedom, that social revolution, as it were, is actually part of the Gospel, as essential as personal salvation from sin and hell. But, we have largely forgotten, avoided, or misunderstood Jesus' intent on that.

So, the book covers a lot of biblical passages that deal with how we are to interact with the injustices that seem inherent in our world. That we're (you know, Christians) supposed to care for widows and orphans. Not only care for them, but actually defend them, plead their cases. Like, do something about their plight. Most of the biblical passages dealing with the poor and oppressed demand action.

Being a sort of black-and-white thinker, I tend toward extremes. I can be all-or-nothing. Which is one very good reason God gave me A. (Thank you, God!) It's hard for me to find balance in life. I read a book like this (or the Bible itself!) and I want to throw myself and my family off a cliff of voluntary poverty. I start rushing around in my mind trying to think of things we ought to be depriving ourselves of, hunting for items we could sell, axing categories of our budget, and feeling guilty about all the things we have and are able to do. Most of this is just mental (yes, I get the pun) and as soon as A gets a whiff of it, he tries to muddy it up with greyness. Reminding me that the Bible also says God gives us good gifts and that he even gives us some things for our enjoyment. Hedonist! (A, not God.)

As I was reading "The Hole" before Uganda, I got a little consumed with the "sheep and goats" passage. You know the one, it's nearing the end of his earthly ministry (which, as we've all heard from countless preachers, makes it of uber-importance), he says, "When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit on his throne in heavenly glory. All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate the people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. He will put the sheep on his right and the goats on his left. Then the King will say to those on his right, 'Come you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.' the the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?' The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.'" (Mt. 25:31-40) Of course, Jesus goes on to say the opposite to the goats; they didn't come to his aid because they didn't aid "the least of these."

So, I got to thinking, black-and-white thinking of course, "So, then aren't we just paying other people to do this for us?" I mean, A and I give generously to organizations that help the poor and needy. We have a really soft place in our hearts for those living with HIV/AIDS and those orphaned by the disease and our money follows that compassion. But, aren't we really just paying people to be sheep for us? I have never handed an article of clothing to a naked person. I have very rarely handed a plate of food to a hungry person myself. I can't recall ever visiting anyone in prison (or even writing them letters) and haven't even been to many sickbeds other than those occupied by immediately family. So, have I done what Jesus requires? Does giving money to other people who are on the front lines qualify me for sheephood? At the end of the passage, Jesus says, "Then they [ie--the goats, those who didn't come to the aid of the needy] will go away to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life." I mean that's serious! It's eschatological, for heaven's sake! I really, really needed to know whether our generosity made us sheep or goats. It plagued me.

A (and some other loving friends) pointed out that God judges us by our hearts. Okay, so, yeah, my heart is generous and I'm moved by real compassion and mercy. But those three aren't the only residents of my heart. Fear lives there too. And self-centeredness. And comfort. And separation between me and "them." Those are the tenants I fight with, but for now, they remain. If we're using the measure of "love your neighbor as yourself," I'd give myself a D at best and only if I was grading on a curve. Love? Love? Really, love? How can I love someone I've never met? I loved both of my children before I met them, but that's different. I'd feel like a fool and a hypocrite if I said, "I love poor people. I love AIDS orphans and widows. I love them." I don't. Not enough to fight for them. But, if I'm being generous with myself, I can admit that I do love them enough to sacrifice a higher standard of living (while at the same time recognizing that my "normal" American lifestyle is among the richest in the world) for them, for like half a dozen of them.

Enough. Enough, enough, enough. How could it ever be enough? I feel that I could consign my family to voluntary poverty and give away all the "extra" money we would have and it still would never feel like enough. The problem is sooooo huge and even if we gave 10, 100, 1000 times what we do now, how would it even make a dent in the problem. Besides the fact that money doesn't solve poverty, consigning myself and my family to voluntary poverty still wouldn't put us face to face with genuine need. My stupid-human ideas of "enough" will never answer the sheep-or-goat question.

But, I think I went to Uganda because God knew this question would be brooding in my heart, that this storm cloud would be darkening my mind. I had to meet some "least of theses." I had to look them in the eye. I had to find out if I could love them, if I did love them. I had to hold them on my lap and hear their giggles. I had to hear their stories while I looked into their eyes. I had to find out what was motivating my generosity. I had to find out, in Uganda, among the naked, hungry, thirsty, strangers, sickly, and imprisoned whether I have a sheep-heart or a goat-heart. Of course, Jesus will be the Judge, and he and I both know there's more to be done, but I feel much more sheepish now.

So, when I got home from Uganda and I told A that we were going to adopt a slum in Kampala, he told me that he knew God was going to give us an additional investment. And then A told me that God was also giving us additional capital! Our tax return is huge, he got two more bonuses from work, and a raise. That's more (like way more) than enough to adopt Nateete, so we'll tuck most of it away in savings until we know what to do with it. And, yes, we're spending some on ourselves and our family. But, when I read in "The Hole" today the following passage from Deut. 8:10-18, my heart went, "YES!" "When you have eaten and are satisfied, praise the Lord your God for the good land he has given you. Be careful that you do not forget the Lord your God. . . Otherwise, when you eat and are satisfied, when you build fine houses and settle down, and when your herds and flocks grow large and your silver and gold increase and all you have is multiplied, then your heart will become proud and you will forget the Lord your God, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery. . . You may say to yourself, 'My power and the strength of my hands have produced this wealth for me.' But remember the Lord your God, for it is he who give you the ability to produce wealth." I felt that God was saying, "It's good. Your hearts are in the right place. Keep remembering where your wealth came from and keep stewarding it well. You are doing what I've asked of you." And my heart cries out in response, "But, who am I, and who are my people, that we should be able to give as generously as this? Everything comes from you, and we have given you only what comes from your hand." (I Chron 29:14)

So, I guess maybe, if you're careful about your heart and DO go once in a while, you can be a sheep who pays other people to be sheep too.

2 March 2010


We were only gone for 12 days, and only 10 of them were "real" (ie, not traveling), but I feel like I was in Uganda a month. We packed so much in to every day, went so many places, met so many people, saw so many incredible things. For those same reasons, it's difficult for me to know how to talk to people about the trip, in person, or here on my blog. You've already read the team accounts, so I'll try to tell a few of the more personal stories.


First of all, the village we ended up choosing was Lajwatek. Many of the best stories come from Lajwatek, which may have something to with why we chose it. After we had visited the four possible sites for adoption (Lugutu, Piqwini, Lajwatek, and Ungai), we sat down, just the six of us from LCC, over dinner for discussion. Tim asked us each in turn to tell which village we felt God was pointing out to us. As we took our turns, each of us felt drawn to Lajwatek. God was already at work there, having raised Esther from the dead (I'll tell you the whole story in a moment!), and 40 people already professed faith. They were meeting in two mid-week cell groups and walking some 7 miles on sunday to attend church at the Farm.


Also, we saw that the people were taking initiative to imporve their lives. One result of the war is that many people lived in Internally Displaced Peoples camps for years or decades to escape the rebels. People were not allowed to work while they were at the IDPs and food, clothing, their basic needs, were supplied through handouts. Those who participated in the rebel army (against their will) were "provided for" through plundering. So, the techniques of farming, building, etc. were not taught to the younger generation and the work ethic was all but obliterated as well. What we saw in Lajwatek surprised us. The men delivered a load of bricks to a widow's property on Wednesday. When we returned all together on Friday so that we girls could see Lajwatek for ourselves, the house was built and Jessica, the widow, was out gathering thatch for her roof. While we were inspecting the house (which was well done), a man appeared. He said, "I heard that the church was helping here and I had to come see for myself." Many organizations, as well as the government, have made promises of aid, but few deliver. Fewer still help in ways that empower the people toward self-sustainability. Somehow, that moment, that turn of phrase, "I had to come see for myself," struck us all as being something biblical. It wasn't the first--or last--time we had the feeling we were part of something very close to what God meant for His people all along.
Jessica's house, in progress. The walls will be smeared with mud/mortar inside and out. A center pole will hold up the roof and the thatch will be applied.



Another thing that drew us all to Lajwatek was the need. Now, there's need everywhere you look. There isn't a person we met in Uganda who wasn't poorer than us. Not a person who couldn't benefit from something SOI was doing. Not a village that didn't need development. And, Lajwatek probably isn't really "needier" than the other places we visited. After all, they walk to the SOI Farm where there are wells and food and the Gospel. It's anywhere from about 4 to 14 miles to walk, but it's accessible. There is a government school nearby for those that can afford to send their children. They'd need to walk only 1-10 miles to get there. There is a well in the village, put in by the government, but it's too shallow and it's dried up, no good to anyone now. So, the people resort to natural water sources. Like this.The main water source for Lajwatek. We saw bugs and tadpoles in there.


There was also an emotional pull to Lajwatek. That day we went to see the house, we drove into the area and stopped the van next to a mudpit where young boys (ages 7-9, I'd guess) were mixing and molding bricks. Other children appeared as we walked over to Jessica's house, some of them hers. It's very common to see little knots of children without adults (it's also very normal to see knots of men or of women without children, too). Those who aren't in school, because of age or poverty, wander around during the day, taking care of themselves and each other. There's almost always and "older" (like 7-11 years old) kid in this group, usually a girl, carrying a baby on her back, her sister or brother. The mothers are typically working in fields/gardens, toting water, or, like Jessica, gathering thatch or other supplies. On this day, there were at least two babies in the group. One little girl was carrying her sister in her arms (instead of on her back) so I bent down and held my hands out to her and asked if I could hold her baby. I don't know if she understood my words or just the gesture, but she timidly allowed me to cradle the baby. I held that baby as we walked a few yards (big sis at my heel) to Jessica's house. I held her as we talked to the "I had to see" man (it was actually about a 20-30 minute conversation as Aloysius, head of SOI in Gulu, interviewed the man about himself and the village). I held her as we looked at the house Jessica was building, and the remains of the house that had been destroyed in the war. I held her as we walked back down the path that led past the van to the waterhole.
Big Sis, the baby, and me. The boy on the right was one who was making bricks...until we showed up!


I wasn't sure the girl was going to the water source with us, so I gave the baby back at that point. I should have known the girl would want to come with us. Mzungus ("Whites") are a major source of entertainment and excitement. Not long after we arrived at the swamp, I saw Big Sis, but without the baby. Later, back at the van, I asked Aloysius what happens to these little babies when their moms are out working. Do the siblings take them to the moms to nurse? I almost wish I hadn't asked. It was the one time during the whole trip that I cried. And I couldn't stop. Aloysius said, "No, the children do the best they can, but when the baby cries, they put it in the hut and let it cry until it gives up."



Now, it's bad enough to consider a baby crying from hunger, alone in a dark hut. It's awful to think of that baby giving up. It's even worse when you understand the cycle of unmet needs and realize that building blocks for emotional, social, cognitive, and physical development are not being properly laid in that baby's brain because her needs are not being met in a timely, sufficient manner. All of that weighed on me in the moment and I couldn't stop crying for the baby and the thousands like her. But later, another layer of realization dawned on me. And I wept for that mother and the thousands like her. To be forced to decide whether to feed your baby or literally put a roof over your heads. The decisions these women have to face because of their poverty. I don't know how I would have chosen.


But, there is hope. And, I think that's what drove Jessica to cut the thatch that day. She tasted hope. When SOI delivered bricks to her property, when they made good on that promise, she tasted hope. SOI's program (it's not really as linear as a program, but it completely thought-out and organized) brings hope to families and villages. Life CC, in partnership with SOI, will provide at least 2 wells for Lajwatek (we found out late in the week that there are 2000+ adults and some 6000 kids in this village!), build a church/school building, train pastors and teachers from among the villagers, teach agricultural technology that will provide income AND feed the people, and give spiritual and emotional support to the victims of war and poverty. It all sounds good here in black and white, but there aren't words to describe what we saw in living color. You really do have to go to understand. The hope and life and vitality that imbued every person we encountered on the Farm astounded us. Each place we visited around Gulu had some of the same feeling--the more time SOI had spent there, the greater the feeling. It would take me hours to tell of it, and I'd still only be scratching the surface.



Now, let me tell you Esther's story. Esther lived deep in Lajwatek, where there was a heavy influence of witchcraft (we met another woman in a different place who was hosting Bible study where before she had handed out the remedies as a witch doctor!). One day, Esther died. It's possible she was just in a trance induced by the witchcraft, but the villagers believed she was dead. They laid her out in her house. Her friend Betty mourned her loss. She was grieved that her friend had passed. Betty had heard about the nearby Koro Farm where people grew banana trees in straight rows (the superstition is that God plants trees where he wants them and humans can't do a thing about it). She had heard that a kind, helpful pastor lived and worked there. So, she walked to the Farm and found Aloysius early in the morning of the third day Esther had been dead. She pleaded with him to come pray for her friend. Aloysius go tthe feeling that Betty believed Esther could be saved from torment if he came to pray. He told her he didn't pray for dead people. There was no point. And he went on his way. When he came home later in the day, Betty was still there. She again asked him to come and pray for Esther. He again told her there was no point in praying for the dead. Hours later she was still there asking Aloysius to come. Because of her persistence and because she had waited for him in the sun all day long, Aloysius relented. He gathered some of the staff and they went to Esther's house. He felt heavy spirits and refused to enter the house. Instead, Betty and some others brought her out. They laid her on the ground and Aloysius and his friends began to sing praises to God. After a few minutes, one of the villagers gasped and pointed. Esther's right hand was twitching. Aloysius and the others continued singing. Before long, Esther had sat up. Aloysius directed Betty to bring her some water. Esther drunk it and began praising God with them! The people who witnessed her resurrection immediately responded to the Gospel. So far, forty people (that's just the adult count) have come to know Jesus because of Esther's testimony!
Esther, center, yellow shirt, thanking the LCC team and SOI for adopting her village. Betty is directly in front of her.


In the coming days, I'll try to get a photo scrapbook up for you to see more of what we saw and did. There's still so much to tell! But these were the big stories I wanted to share.

If you've been with me for more than a year, you might remember that last January, A and I jumped into our first fast. (See my Jan 12, 2008 post and following) At the beginning of every year, our church leadership calls a corporate fast for 21 days. We learned a lot last year and are excited to be doing it again this year. It's nice to have a little experience under our belts, but we're anything but experts!

The main thing I learned last year was to allow the hunger or desire for food to turn me to God. We use food for so many things. And God is a much better answer to most of them. I'm talking about things like boredom or loneliness. But, I've also used food to solve awkward social situations. Like saying, "I'm going to get some punch" instead of "I've run out of things to say to you." :) Taking my boredom and loneliness, even my social awkwardness, to God is healthier for body and soul. It's a lesson I hope lasts beyond the 21 days.

Yesterday was our first day on the fast, and despite some last minute shopping Tuesday, it went well. Tonight, I made a miso soup that we really enjoyed with some store-bought brown rice vegetarian sushi. We'll be having this dinner again in the next 19 days. Perhaps more than once. So, I thought I'd share the recipe!

Mushroom Miso Soup
1 1/2 c baby bella mushrooms (or other mushrooms of choice) thinly sliced
2 t safflower oil (whatever?! I used sesame)
1/2 c green onions, thinly sliced
1 T garlic (I used 3 cloves and didn't think it was enough)
1 T ginger, minced
4 c water or veg stock (I used 2 c of each)
2 c Swiss chard leaves, roughly chopped (I'll use dried seaweed next time)
2 T red miso (or other miso of choice) (I found it at the co-op, but it may be at the grocery?)
1 T toasted sesame oil (I didn't add any more after using it to saute the veg in the beginning)
2 T sesame seeds (optional)

In a large saucepan, saute the mushrooms in the safflower (or sesame) oil for 3 minutes. Add the green onion, garlic, and ginger, and saute an additional 2 minutes. Add the water and Swiss chard and stir well to combine. Bring the mixture to a boil; boil for 3 minutes. In a small bowl, stir together the miso and a little of the cooking liquid from the pan. Add the miso mixture and toasted sesame oil to the pot, stir well to combine. Remove from heat. Sprinkle sesame seeds over individual servings.

Yeild: 4 servings

By the way, no the kids didn't eat it. Neither mushrooms nor sushi float their boat. I don't normally cater to them, but the fast is an exception in my book if ever there was one!

Do you know how it is to know something for a long time and then suddenly realize it? That's how I feel about God's femininity. It's always been there. I've always known that women are made just as much in the image of God as men are. I've seen those same three "proof texts" for God's femininity many times. But, it suddenly hit me when I was reading and reflecting on Captivating that God is as feminine as He is masculine and that femininity reflects who God is as well, as completely as masculinity. Neither, of course, is complete by itself, but femininity is just as good at revealing God's character, personality, way with the world as masculinity.

So much of the Bible's imagery is masculine (with several important exceptions), it's easy to forget that He is also feminine. And not just "also" but "as much." His way of interacting with the world is as feminine as it is masculine. One example the authors of Captivating point out is His jealousy. I was trying to explain my thoughts on this to A, but words fell short. I hope I can find the words for my thoughts now. It seems to me that men and women feel jealousy differently. Men's jealousy seems to want to possess a woman. He is proud that he attracted this particular woman and he wants others to know that she belongs to him. It's a protective jealousy. A woman's jealousy is like a counterpart to this: she wants to draw him in, to capture him, to captivate him, to make him want to have her to the exclusion of all others. Perhaps it's that he wants to have her for himself and she wants to be the only one he wants.

There is the saying, "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned." Why is that true of women and not men? It's because we feel jealousy differently. I think God's jealousy is at least as feminine as it is masculine. Can you see this? Can you see how much He wants to be the only One we want? Can you see how He wants us to be captivated, drawn into Him, so completely mesmerized by all He is, by Who He is that we cannot even consider turning somewhere else?

Another point the authors make is that women not only desire to draw others in by the sheer force of who they are, but they also want to be drawn out. They want others to discover them. To plumb their depths. To seek out the treasures they know are in there. I know in talking with A or my good girlfriends, I often stumble upon nuggets of truth or beauty that are in there, have been in there, but needed drawing out. I may have known there was something there, or not, but it took the interaction with another person for it to come out to the forefront. Isn't God like that? Doesn't He invite us to seek Him, to know Him? Isn't He sometimes a little difficult to know because He's complex and because you sometimes have to dig to get to the good stuff?

As I begin to consider God's feminine side, I see that He is as much Mother (all the feminine images in the Bible point to this, so it's a sort of safe place to start) as He is Father. This doesn't mean I'm going to start calling Him Mother or Goddess in my prayer life, but it does open a door to a new way of relating to Him. His motherly tenderness is not secondary to His fatherly wisdom. His motherly protection ("mama bear") is not secondary to His fatherly protection.

And, because of that equality of the feminine with the masculine within Him, I can be confident in who He has made me to be as a woman. I bear exactly as much of God's image as any man--and I bear it not only in "spiritual" ways like my love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, and self-control, but even in my feminine beauty, complexity, desires, ways of being. Realizing that He not only approves of femininity, but is feminine, I am free to embrace, experience and express my own femininity.

I love my book club. It's just precious to be among women who come together to share our lives, our thoughts, our realities, our hearts with each other and with our God. I'm telling you, these are some of the most beautiful, authentic, uplifting women I've ever had the privilege of sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with. They bring their hearts--and that's definitely the best part.

We just started reading Captivating by John and Stasi Elderedge. It's not everyone's cup of tea, but God is doing something through it in our hearts. This week (chapter 2), there was something that struck me strongly, but it wasn't until I was discussing it with A tonight that it really began to undo me.

The book is about femininity, women's role in the world. It's not about doing better as a woman; it's about recognizing what real femininity is, the power it holds for the redemption of the world. One thing about women is that we want to be beautiful, we want to make our homes, offices, etc beautiful, and we want to create beauty in the world. In this, we are just like our Maker, a vivid representation of a part of Him. He laps up praise and worship from people who see and recognize His beauty. He surrounds Himself with beauty (the descriptions of heaven are almost gaudy-sounding). He created the awe-inspiring beauty of the natural world and gave it to us as a gift. That just resonates with me. That desire to have my own beauty, to be enveloped by beauty, and to give beauty as a gift.

In Captivating, the authors posit that beauty is powerful because of what it "speaks" to the world. Here is the passage that began my unraveling:

And what does beauty say to us? Think of what it is like to be caught
in traffic for more than an hour. Horns blaring, people shouting
obscenities. Exhaust pouring in your windows, suffocating you. Then
remember what it's like to come into a beautiful place, a garden or a meadow or
a quiet beach. There is room for your soul. It expands. You
can breathe again. You can rest. It is good. All is
well. ...

That is what beauty says, All shall be well.

And this is what it's like to be with a woman at rest, a woman comfortable
in her feminine beauty. She is enjoyable to be with. She is
lovely. In her presence your heart stops holding its breath. You
relax and believe once again that all will be well. And this is also why a
woman who is striving is so disturbing, for a woman who is not at rest in her
heart says to the world, "All is not well. Things are not going to turn
out all right." "Like a fountain troubled, " as Shakespeare said, "muddy,
ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty." We need what Beauty
speaks. What it says is hard to put into words. But part of its
message is that all is well. All will be well.

When I read that last paragraph, I instantly thought of the story of Jesus visiting the home of Lazarus, Mary, and Martha. (The actual story can be found in Luke 10:38-42) In this story, Jesus and his customary crowd are passing through town and they stop at Martha's house for a rest. Jesus sits down and begins to talk with the people there. Lazarus (Martha's brother) and Mary (their sister) sit down among the crowd. But, Martha begins to fly around making the house ready and a dinner for the travelers. She was serving them, being hospitable, making them comfortable. After a while, Martha has had enough and is overflowing with disappointment (to choose the mildest emotion she may have been feeling) that her sister is not helping her with these womanly duties. She blusters into the room and accosts Jesus, thinking he'll take her side, and demanding that he instruct Mary to lend a hand. But, Jesus surprises them all by saying that "Mary has chosen the good part", the "one thing that is necessary" and "it will not be taken away from her."

My heart is so like Martha's. When people are in my home, I want to serve them, to be hospitable, to make them comfortable. My eyes, hands, and heart are all applied to "making things perfect." I want them to have a good experience while they are with me. When it comes to my family, I am often striving to provide good memories for them, a perfect experience. Whether it's guests in my home or it's my intimate family, I want to give them the feeling, "All is well here. This is good. This is beautiful. This is perfect."

But, what ends up happening is that a small thing gets a little askew of my picture of perfection and I become a striving, controlling shrew (sometimes it's not that bad, but sometimes it is). Just this morning, I had a plan for dropping Punk off for his first day of Kindergarten. I set it all up in my mind last night--every detail of how it was going to go. Then, this morning, A declared that he wanted to go with us. He threw off my plan-of-perfection. I grew panicky. Now, I had to not only get my son whisked off to a dreamy first-day-of-big-school, but I also had to manage to get my husband to work on time, get my lemon-blueberry muffins glazed, and get to book club without time to waste. My heart began to say (in the tone of an alarm), "All is not well!!! This is not going to go right!!!" Enter Shrew. I was awful. I was mean and short and nasty to A. I was probably even a little abrupt with the children. My perfect picture of dropping off Sam became filthy with my bad attitude. What was that Shakespeare said? "Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty." Blech. Punk made it to school and we had a good moment of seeing him off, but as soon as we were back in the car, I turned the shrew back on to torment the plan-disturber. How ugly is that!?! So the opposite of what I wanted this morning to be.

And, that's true in so many situations. I'm just heart-broken and grieved to look over these moments of striving for "All is well" and so completely destroying it with my own actions. Proverbs 14:1 says, "The wise woman builds her house, but with her own hands the foolish one tears hers down." During how many family or guest dinners have I muddied the waters by striving to bring perfection? How many times have I gotten frustrated that "I'm just trying to make her hair look beautiful!!!!!!" and wound up tearing both our hearts to shreds with my anger that it's not perfect?

What God revealed to me this evening as I was talking with A about it is that my desire in all of this was to minister to the heart of my family and guests the feeling that all is well. But, I had fallen for the scheme of Satan that said that it was by making the externals (the dinner, the timing, the plan) perfect that I could minister to the heart. But, the truth God shone His light on is that only one thing is necessary, and Mary had it--a heart at rest, in the peace of Jesus. The heart at rest is the only one that can bring other hearts to resolution and peace. It's when my heart is peaceful and centered on Jesus and the fact that He really does make it all alright that beauty can radiate through me to touch and minister peace to other hearts.

The truth is, if I just showed up, the real, authentic, Jesus-imbued me, that would minister to the hearts I care for. Having a nice home, cooking a succulent meal, creating perfect braids--all of that is important. It does help to fulfill needs, but it misses the heart.

What would dinner parties in my home look like if I was at peace in my beauty? What would hair day be like for my precious daughter's heart if I came to her with my own heart full of beauty while my hands were tangled in her curls? What would she learn about her own beauty if my heart was ministering peace and love to her instead of spewing the poison of striving and a focus on the external those long days through? What would my children remember about their big moments in life if I was there for them in the security that All is well; All will be well?

With Holy Spirit transforming my heart into that one of restful peace, my home will be utterly transformed. Nothing will be the same. This will revolutionize every day of my life, every relationship I have. Do it, Jesus!

There's a lot rambling around in my head these days. I'm hoping this "download" will help clear the air. (Yes, I did just call myself an airhead!)

BLUE WITH ENVY
After I redid Pea's hair on Tuesday, Punk was jealous that she was getting lots of attention for her pretty hair. Before we headed to the gym on Wednesday morning, I asked if he wanted me to spike his hair (he's been wanting that frequently lately). He said, "Nah, but could you spray it blue?!" So I did. He got more attention than Pea that day!

COMPARING

I'm really bad at remembering my kids' milestones, but there are a few facts and figures ingrained in my brain. One of those is that Pea was 16 pounds when we first "met" her by photos in Jan 07. She was 18 months old and 16 pounds--the same as my friend's 9 month old. Yesterday I met a 24-pound 6-month-old. It's staggering to think about.

PREPARING

When we left Boise in September of 07, we felt our family was complete. We were expecting two children to come home to us from Liberia. One of them was Pea. The other was a sweet boy who was a year older than Punk. Unfortunately, he didn't make it here. But, at that time, we didn't know he wouldn't be coming home. So, we thought we were "done" and we were moving to a much smaller dwelling, thus we sold/donated/gave away/got rid of almost all our baby stuff. Now that our home study update is completed and we're this { } close to being on the list (meaning we could have a baby nearly anytime now), I'm a little obsessed with getting prepared!

We did save a few things (stroller, crib, Pack-n-Play, diaper bag), but no baby clothes, no pacies, no bottles, no receiving blankets, no lotsa things. There are quite a few things that I considered "must-haves" the first time around that I don't really need this time (bouncy seat, changing table). But, there are several things that I learned that I do need (receiving blankets, carrier) and I want to start getting them amassed.

I also need to figure out the immediate sleeping arrangements. I want baby close to me, but A doesn't want to be woken up all through the night. So, do baby and I move upstairs? Does A move upstairs? Do we put baby in our closet? Of course, all of these options would be temporary, but none are exactly ideal. What to do, what to do.

CHURCH MOVE

Did I tell you our church's big news? We are moving to a space in the mall! Actually, two spaces. Right next to Sears. We're all really excited! Not only is it a nice new space (with three separate areas in the little kids area--called the Greenhouse--for infants, walkers, and preschoolers), but it's an amazing way to intersect people's lives. While many people wouldn't walk into a typical church building, they just might be curious enough about church in the mall to pop their heads in. Sunday is our opening day. Can't wait!

If you haven't yet read Whining Like Moses (previous post), you need to do so before reading this one.

This past Sunday, the sermon at our church was about quiet times/devotions. It was part of a series on developing a strong prayer life. Most of it was what you'd expect from someone training you in the how-to's of this discipline. But then....THEN...Pastor Tim walloped us. Ouch. He wrapped everything up in the unnerving package of WHY we don't do it. He gave two main reasons (1) self-reliance and (2) unbelief.

You can listen to the real deal here (click "Media" on the right, then click the mike, then click on the message for 7/12), but here's my take on it. When we skip over spending time with God, we're declaring we don't need Him. We can make it on our own. Our way is better, even, than His way. On the other hand, if we get up and head straight into Him, we're declaring our dependence on Him (as well as our love of being with Him and other things), that we need Him before anything else.

The other reason we don't pray, unbelief, is pretty clear too. If we don't believe our prayers are going to change anything really (no matter what we tell ourselves about our faith in God and prayer), we just stop praying.

But, it was the independent, unsubmitted, self-reliant attitude that really hit me where it hurt. And then the paradox struck me. When I was whining like Moses, it was all about me. In essence, I'd suddenly gone independent. This thing that God had started, orchestrated, built, carried on--all of a sudden I decided it was my thing and that I was unequal to the task. Well, DUH!

My inadequacy (which is a fairly frequent theme in my life) seems so unimportant when I'm relying on God. When I just show up and do what He gives me, the idea that "I can't do this!" doesn't come up. It's only when my independent streak, my self-reliance takes over that my inadequacy matters (to me) at all. If I can get rid of that self-reliance, the feeling of inadequacy will go right along with it. And, the only way I know to get rid of it is to kill it, every morning (every moment), by resurrendering myself to God and seeking His face.

(Warning: LONG post ahead!)

This summer I started a book club for women at my church (although any woman is welcome!). The book we're reading is Redeeming Love by Francine Rivers. I highly recommend it. It is a fictional retelling of the biblical story of Hosea (found in the Old Testament, in the book by the same name). In short, God tells a God-fearing, God-loving man to marry a prostitute. Both books are about the man's struggle to continue loving his unfaithful wife as she struggles against his love. It's an allegory for all of our struggles to receive God's love.

Anyway, I had the idea for this book club for a long time (I actually stole the idea from a church we attended in Idaho) and everything came together for it to launch the day after I returned from Chicago. I wasn't sure what to expect. I had barely recruited and I am not yet well known in my church (there are two services and we've only been here a year). Aaron had emailed me the final sign up roster while I was still at my parents' house and there were three names I knew on the list--one of which belonged to a woman whom I knew by name only and the other two I wasn't yet close to. But, the first meeting arrived, bathed in prayer, and I was surprised to see the "chemistry" among the women. The whole thing was God-birthed and I had really let Him choose the participants. So, I shouldn't have been surprised that He chose a group that coalesced on contact.

Our first meeting was very casual, just to get our faces before one another and lay down a few "ground rules." The second meeting was the first opportunity to discuss the book. As I prepared, the theme of the first few chapters seemed to be pain--what we do with it and where God is when we're in it. That's a great place to start a relationship with brand new friends, isn't it?! But, I couldn't shake the idea that that was where God wanted us to go. Right off the bat. Straight into pain. And, one of the most difficult questions in the Universe. Sweet.

But, it was. Sweet, that is. The women really opened up (much more than you'd expect on a second meeting) and real ministry happened. It was jaw-dropping amazing. I came away exulting that God is God and that He is good and working in these women. I was so humbled to be a part of it!

The third meeting, however, was different. Because it's summer, about half the group was traveling and it was just...different. I was struck by the issue of identity for that meeting, but it just didn't go over. Fell flat. There was some more real sharing of lives, but little ministry opportunity and I just didn't have that same awe-inspired feeling I had for the first two meetings. So, what did I do? I started doubting myself.

What do I have to say to these women? Who am I to try to lead them closer to God? Why would God choose me? Surely, SURELY, there is someone more qualified to lead this group (I even had someone picked out!). I don't fit in. My life is too perfect (how's that for a lie, huh?!) for me to be able to relate to these women--they have real pain, real struggles, real needs. I'm not enough. I can't do this.

Then I called my best friend back in Boise. We laughed because she is going through some pretty weighty stuff of her own and it made my "stuff" seem so little. She told me to stop whining like Moses. :) Oh yeah, guess I'm not the first one to have a fit of insecurity!

The next day I went to read the story of Moses whining about how he was not the right person for the job (Exodus 2:23-4:17). And, it's a surprisingly funny story! God lays out the whole mission, how He's heard and seen His people. "So now, go. I am sending you to Pharaoh to bring my people the Israelites out of Egypt."

Moses goes on arguing with God for awhile, throwing up all kinds of excuses. Finally, at the beginning of ch 4, we get to the funny part. Moses asks, "What if they don't believe me?" And God answers the question with another question: "What's that in your hand?" Can you imagine? There you are, sans shoes, talking to a burning bush who just told you His name is "I am." You've asked and asked this question already, but, despite God's best answers, you still think no one will believe that you are God's chosen one to lead His people. Suddenly, out of nowhere, God wants to know about the implements of your trade! "What's that in your hand?" Really, you can't tell? It's a staff, God.... Where are we going with this?

You know what comes next, God tells him to throw it on the ground; he does; it turns into a snake. But, did you ever realize that Moses actually ran away from it?! I can see it so clearly in my head. The "little girl" scream and the running! Funny stuff! Then God comes around to the answer to Moses' question ("What if they don't believe me?") and says that this is so that they will believe him.

Next, God tells Mo to put his hand in his cloak and it comes out leprous. Again and it comes out clean. Then God says, "If they do not believe you or pay attention to the first miraculous sign, they may believe the second." (Ex. 4:8, emphasis mine) They MAY believe the second?! Oh, this is great God! Really confidence inspiring stuff right here!

Then, God gives Mo one more "trick"--the turning of water into blood. No rehearsal for this one, though. As soon as God has described this, Moses interjects some more self-deprecation: "I can't do this." Finally, God gets angry and says He'll let Aaron do the talking. Relieved, Moses starts on his way, but the Father gets in one last remark, "Don't forget the staff! You'll need it if you're going to prove I sent you!" Funny, funny, funny. I just love it.

Anyway, after giggling about all that for awhile, I hit the reset button. God started this. He picked the women AND their leader. He's doing all of this. I'm just there to do His will. To speak His words. Just like Moses (and Aaron). I'm even willing to bet that the third meeting was what He wanted it to be, even if I didn't see it. So, if you hear me whining like Moses again, remind me to take my staff!

Yesterday, on the way home from school, Pea informed that I "needed" to write a letter to her teacher. The letter should declare her name to be "Penny" and tell the teacher, in no uncertain terms, that she should be called Penny all the time. Hee hee!

Pea and Punk recently watched the movie "Bolt" and really enjoyed it. For a week or so, they have been playing Bolt together. Punk is the super-hero dog Bolt and Pea is "his person," Penny. I've loved observing their active imaginations, but had no idea she was carrying this into school!

I talked to the teacher and there is time for pretending to be whomever you want to be, but there's a clear distinction when it's time to be called by your given name. The teacher believes Pea understands this, but wanted to press the boundary. So, Mrs. P (no, I'm not obsessed with the letter P--that really is her initial!) told her that she would need my consent to change her name. Instead of ending the matter, though, this fueled Pea's growing imagination and prompted her to request the letter! Hee hee!

It's such a pleasure to see these brain bits developing in my little girlie! Her imagination is blooming and she has enough reasoning and conversation skills now to communicate that she wanted the letter written. Praise God that He is overcoming the deficiencies of her early life! Sometimes it seems like we have a long, slow road ahead of us, but episodes like this show me that she is actually leaping and bounding toward wholeness--look out world!

Each night we all gang up on one of the kiddinkindink's beds (I wonder how long they'll be able to withstand this 400-lb-and-growing abuse?) for family prayers. Each of us gets a turn. Right now prayers are pretty limited to thanksgiving and asking for things, but soon we'll introduce confession and praise. Pea's conversation seems to be her area of growth right now and her prayer life is surely improving from a short repetition of Punk's themes to her own ideas from her own heart. It's precious to see the progress.

Punk's prayers are evolving too. As in the rest of life he is both pedantic and expressive and we often have to supress our giggles. His prayer last night went something like this:

"Lorrrrd, thank you for Mommy and Daddy and Pea. Thank you for Mommy for my mommy, Daddy for my daddy and Pea for my sister. Thank you for this world and for the rain to make the trees and plants grow. And, I want to ask you for something. Lorrrrrd, we pray for a new baby for our family. And pray that it's a boy. A boy who is good at rough-housing. A boy who can win against Daddy."

Amen! :)