Deemed An Unfit Parent

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This should have come as no surprise.  They found me unfit.

I knew the "rules" and I had broken them.  Most people do break them, you know.  However, some maintain proper documentation while breaking the "rules" and I, on the other hand, let my paperwork expire years ago.  Many years ago.  On purpose, for that matter.  Their so-called "rules" seemed silly to me.  Not all of the "rules", to be sure, and I certainly did not find the people silly.  I loved the people.  The institution, however, rubbed me the wrong way.  So, I did what many have since chosen to do and left in search of a different expression.  But either way, I broke the rules, my papers expired, and for that, they deemed me unfit.

Really though, this should not have come as a surprise in the least.  I know how they operate.  I could have produced 'falsified' documents as many, many do but that is not my style.  What would be the point?  My own mother, who had faithfully followed all of the "rules" up until her final days on earth was nearly deemed unfit for a "proper burial."  The Roman Catholic church where she devoted her entire adult life almost denied her the necessary "flags" to enter the cemetery where she was to be buried when they found out {GASP!!} that a Methodist hospice minister...and a woman at that...would be conducting her funeral {hold your breath} outside of a Catholic church.  In the days following my mother's death, I actually listened as the Catholic priest yelled at the funeral director (unbiased third party) for allowing a non-Catholic woman to conduct the funeral.  How sad.  How very, very sad.

So, when the Catholic church told my sister that I was unfit to become my nephew's Godmother at his baptism, although being very upset, I was not surprised.  Never mind that I have devoted my life to Christ and seek to follow in Christ's footsteps in thought, word, and deed on a daily basis.  Never mind that practicality.  The Catholic church wanted a letter stating that I was a practicing Catholic.

Soapbox Alert: What I wanted was a letter from the Catholic church telling me what exactly a practicing Catholic looks like.  New flash:  your practicing Catholics very well might not be practicing Catholics.  BUT, they have a letter and I don't.) 

Well, unless a letter from 1995 counts, I am out of the running.  Would a letter from my seminary count?  How about a letter from the pastor of my current church?  What if I provided a document detailing my sacramental theology?  N.O.P.E.  None of that will work, silly girl.  It's Catholic or bust, don't you remember?  Oh, right...how could I forget?!  

Honestly though, this doesn't make me angry as much as it makes me sad.  The Body of Christ, that is,  all Christians in the church universal, is supposed to operate collectively.  We are supposed to be one body in this world.  Yet, we are fragmented from here to the moon...and back.  And because of that, our impact in the world is lessened.  No, even more than that, because of our fragmented organization and broken body, we are neglecting to bring the full force of God's kingdom to earth.  Our energy and loyalty is divided.  We often care more about being right than being love.  Could you imagine what we could accomplish if we were to set aside our polity, politics, and differences in interpretation and instead choose to incarnate Christ in the world?  Can you imagine?  What a difference we could make.

If Jesus was here today, would he really care about a piece of paper or would he just want me to profess my commitment to him and to care for this child in the event that his parents could not.  When looked at that way, can we possibly see why so many are choosing to leave mainline denominations or the church in general?  If we can't get our act together internally (and collectively), how on earth (literally) are others supposed to find Christ in us?  I pray that we, the church, realize the potential and beauty in unity and diversity.  Our differences can actually make us stronger and more unified, if we could just learn to appreciate them and embrace them.  There is only one God, right?  Paul hits this topic dead-on in his letter to the church in Ephesus.  Perhaps the church today, more than ever, needs this reminder...

Ephesians 4: 3-7

Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace.  There is one body and one Spirit just as you were called to one hope when you were called;  one Lord, one faith, one baptism;  one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all.  But to each one of us grace has been given as Christ apportioned it. 

Through Her Lens

She has a smile that lights up the room.  Her joy emanates and her spirit is contagious.  She is smart and strong and witty and funny.  She loves Jesus.  She shows me Jesus.  Through her, I have come to know Jesus more intimately.  She is my gift.

Often times, I get lost in her beautiful brown eyes while thanking God for choosing me, for allowing me to be Sassy's mama.

She carries deep scars.  Scars that her smile and fun loving personality go to great lengths to mask.  And yet, she is only three years old.  Some experts try to tell us that young children will forget their early childhood trauma, but I simply do not accept that.  No, actually I flat out reject that idea.  Her scars are simply woven into her fabric and while God redeems hurts and helps us to grieve forward, some scars become part of one's identity.

But there is someone else that also carries deep scars.  A nameless, faceless person I will probably never meet this side of heaven.  A person I pray for daily and think of often.  I was reminded of that person the other night.

While watching Downton Abbey {Spoiler Alert: stop reading if you have not watched Season 3, Episode 4!} and seeing/feeling/sensing Ethel go through the painful and heart wrenching process of deciding to give up her baby boy, Charlie, for adoption and therefore come to terms with the fact she will never see him again, I simply lost it.  Lost! It!  I pictured this same scene unfolding in a tiny town in southern Ethiopia.  I imagined a person who loved her/his child so very much, who had tried her/his best to love and take care of a child, but simply could not provide for very basic needs.  I imagined this person dropping off their child on the streets, a child who was old enough to walk, and then running safely out of sight before crumpling the ground in tears, weighted down with pain, shame, sorrow, and guilt.

No parent or guardian should ever be forced to make that horrid decision, and yet so many are forced to make that exact decision every day.  Why?  Poverty, injustice, oppression, curable and treatable illnesses, and lack of support systems to name just a few.  That is the lens I often view adoption from.  Through the eyes of the person forced to make an unthinkable decision.  Perhaps that seems depressing, but it is true.  That is reality.  Adoption would not be necessary on the scale it is today if we (humanity) cared enough about each other to correct major flaws in our global systems.  But we would rather carry on with the busyness and distractions in our lives that keep us from addressing some very real needs in our world.

So, when people say our children are "lucky" or "blessed",  I certainly understand their sentiment and agree that yes, our children certainly are lucky to have safely arrived to her new family, with the hope of brighter future.  However, I think many fail to recognize that in order for adoption to be necessary, something went seriously wrong on the other side of the equation.  No parent should ever have to make the decision to give up her child.  None.  There was no "luck" going on there, that is for sure.  Only pain, hopelessness, despair, grief, etc., etc.   There was a woman or man so very desperate that they could think of nothing better to do than to abandon a child on the streets.  Could you imagine?  I cannot.  But praise God for opening our eyes to the layers of wrong in our world.  Praise God.  Their fights are now our fights.  Their hurts, ours.  Their pain, our pain.  We grieve and grow forward, embracing God's plan for our lives while never, not for one second, forgetting the truth.

God speaks through our children's past tragedies to show us his unfailing love, mercy, and compassion.  We are blessed, we are the lucky ones.  If there is any luck going on at all in this scenario it is that our lives have been gloriously wrecked and forever altered by joining God on his mission to care for the fatherless and seek justice.  It is that through our journeys into God's heart, God has given us a purpose and direction that would have been missed had we forfeited the opportunity to grow our family through adoption.

But what about you?  Have you figured out what God's purpose if for this chapter in your life?  What is God asking you to do?  Viewing the world through whose lens breaks your heart?  The orphan? The widow?  The recovering addict?  The homebound?  The sick?  What it is?  Join God there.  Say yes.

I'll close with one question and I pray that you spend time in prayer and reflection thinking about this:
Why do you think God has given you more than you need? 

Leviticus 19:9
"When you reap the harvest of your land, do not reap to the very edgesof your field or gather the gleanings of your harvest.  Do not go over your vineyard a second time or pick up the grapes that have fallen. Leave them for the poor and the foreigner. I am the Lord your God."

Balentine's Day Firsts

Before getting started, I have to say that I am going to miss, more than words can describe, the accents, Amharglish, and translation humor that fills our home most days.  I am usually left both cracking up and in awe through the day-to-day routines that demonstrate God's redemptive power in all of us.  Yet, it is usually only in hindsight that one can see how far we all have come.

Now, on to Valentine's Day.  (Or, Balentine's Day for Big Sister.)  If you know me, you will know that I can be really "bah humbuggy" about the way our culture likes to make holidays all about consumerism and consumption.  (Which is pretty much every holiday now, right?  Buy this.  Do that.  You can only celebrate properly if you have spent a ton of money.  Blah!  Bologna!)  My radar keenly picks up on how profit motives drive the marketing behind holidays big and small and how something good and pure gets warped into a money making machine.  To this, I say "Boo!" However, God has pulled off quite a feat this year.  He is softening my heart and showing me how we can celebrate fun days like today AND still keep our love for Him as the motive.  That we can participate in the consumerism aspect as little as we'd like and yet still let the spirit of love (of God and neighbor) be present in our interactions.  Let me share with you a little about the events of this past week:

The other night, after dreading and dragging my feet, we all sat around the dining room table neatly tearing, folding, signing, and sealing our 125+ valentine's day cards.  What I thought would be a nightmare of an event, full of moaning and complaining, and ending with me (mom) having to forge (using my weak hand) 100 signatures on their cards, turned into a joyous evening.  Our table was full of love and stories about the friends in their class, why so-and-so will be Larry's favorite valentine (including a specially made double starburst with the hearts facing out gift for her) and why Big Sister will NOT be handing a "your cute" card to so-and-so.  Moe was thrilled to be able to write his own name 25 times.  I was thrilled that each child happily wrote her or his name on every. single. card.  I went to bed that night a little confused, quite perplexed, and full of joy that the simple act of writing cards and sharing stories brought so much happiness to our dining room.

The spirit of love continued throughout the following day and evening as we headed to our Wednesday night church dinner and then to the Ash Wednesday service.  The service is a special and reflective time to ask for forgiveness and prepare our hearts and minds for Jesus' death and resurrection.  This year, Ash Wednesday just happened to fall the day before valentine's day.  I am not sure why, but I kinda liked that.  It seemed to bring our family close together.  We ended the evening happily, apologized for our shortcomings, and my heart felt content.  Strange.  I don't usually like these (valentine) holidays.  But, it gets better.

This morning, I woke up to beautiful flowers and a card from my husband.  Larry (my resident hoarder) told me this: "Mama, valentine's day is not about chocolate or presents.  It is about spreading love."  Those words, coming out of the mouth of my six year old, made my mama heart explode with joy.  But it gets better.  I had presented all five children with a small box of chocolates, which I fully expected to turn into a whine fest, full of moaning about why they can't eat the entire box before breakfast.  But that didn't happen.  Rather, Larry and Moe asked me if they could give their box away.  Each box had four pieces of chocolate and they each decided who would get them.  On the walk to school, Officer Stacey, our crossing guard was gifted with two pieces.  One of the teachers who corrals the students each morning in the cafeteria was gifted two as well. When Moe slipped up and ate half of one of the pieces he wanted to give to his teacher (and after explaining that it would be rude to gift her a half-eaten piece of chocolate), we put some heart shaped cookies in a bag so they could have something to give their teachers.  All was good.  Or so I thought.

Then, just as I thought we were having the perfect morning, the reality of past hurts crept in.  Even though we have been home now for two years, there are deep wounds that resurface from time to time.  Scars from her past presented, a life where fear, malnutrition, and starvation were daily realities.  When I couldn't find Sassy, I knew immediately what had happened.  She had taken her box of chocolates up to her bedroom and was hurriedly shoving them in her mouth.  We have come so far toward developing a healthy relationship with food, but there are triggers.  There are times when she seems to have so little control over what she is doing.  I have seen this so many times.  It breaks my heart.  She will lie about what just happened.  Even though my eyes saw her doing this, when I ask she will look right at me and say, "No. I did not eat the chocolate."  I will have to press her at least a half dozen times and explain why we need to tell the truth.  Sometimes she will, sometimes she won't.  The scars are deep.  Through parenting Sassy, God teaches me daily about his patience and grace and love.  While God continues his healing and redemptive work in her, he also reminds me and gives me countless opportunities to exercise that same patience and grace toward her and I truly consider this a gift from God.

In all honestly though, this is something I wish I could explain better to others.  Yes, Sassy is healthy and thriving and exudes confidence and joy, but underneath there are scars.  I think the same can be said for all of us, right?  Underneath that mask that we wear in public, at work, at church, in school and in our daily interactions, there are usually some scars from previous life experiences.  Scars that while hurt us a great deal, also helped us to grow in other ways.  They are part of us, and although I wish I could take away every awful nightmare of an experience our children lived through, I absolutely believe God will use every hurt to help them help others one day.  God is a God of new mercies and new beginnings.  God redeems all brokenness.  God is love.

This year, I am thankful that God softened my heart and showed me how to parent and participate in a fun and loving event that can and will still be centered on Christ.  Through the joyous and the painful, God is at work redeeming and loving.  Happy Valentine's Day!

Romans 13:10: "Love does no harm to a neighbor. Therefore love is the fulfillment of the law."

God's Strength Made Perfect

"How do you do this?" 

I have to admit, I usually just giggle and shrug off that question.  It's not that I don't want to answer, it is just that I honestly don't know how to answer it.  It is just that unless I really stop to think about it, I am not sure what they are asking...what they are talking about.  Do what?  What is this? 

"I am not doing anything," is really what I want to say.  I want to say that, because that is what I truly believe.  That might sound strange, but I don't see our family as really doing anything other than what God asks from each of us.  That is, to love God and to love each other.  Different people express and live out that love in different ways, and we are just living it out the way God asked and continues to ask us.  

You see, I like to look at and look to individuals and families who are doing a lot more than we are doing.  I actually keep their photos handy (I hope that's not too creepy?!) to look at throughout each day when I feel stressed and frazzled.  "Surely so-and-so is stretched more thinly than we are," I say silently for comfort.  Plus, I am truly inspired by the radical faith so many 'ordinary' people are embodying.  Some have 'sold it all and gone.' Others have began organizations and ministries to support, educate, and empower HIV/AIDS widows and mothers.  And yet many more and opening their hearts and homes to children, locally and globally, who were orphaned.  It seems God is raising up our generation of Kingdom focused people and I don't want to miss out on that fun!  God is at the helm in these stories and when God is at the helm, buckle up because it's going to be an exciting ride!  

In reality, when people ask how we 'do this', I know they are talking about logistics, busyness, sanity, and mental and emotional energy.  What I feel like they may be asking is this: "How do you parent five children, attend seminary, work part time in ministry, love your family, and have anything left over?"  
"How do we get from here to there and back again?"  "How do we make it to four different soccer games per weekend?"  "How do we stay sane?"

So, I would like to take three words to answer all of those questions:

I DON'T KNOW!

Ha!  I know that is not a very profound answer, but it is the truth.  I have no earthly idea how day after day, we get five lunches packed and five kids off to school.  How we keep track of science fair projects and stuffed animals.  How I engage in deep theological reflection and read The Fire Cat for the hundredth time and gain deep joy and gratification from both.  How the energy and resources seem to be just enough to get through each day, with not an ounce left over.  

But then I think about those questions again, and I know the truth.  That truly I am not really don't anything at all, yet it is God.  We have given God full access to our lives and therefore God is being allowed to work through ordinary, everyday, sinful, imperfect vessels to redeem brokenness and restore us to health.  The truth that left alone to my own devices and my own strength, I would have crumbled years ago.  The truth, found in 2 Corinthians 12:9 when Paul states, "[God's] grace is sufficient for you, [God's] power is made perfect in weakness.  Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me."  

So, that is the truth.  That is how we do it.  We don't.  God does.  Love does.  And now that we know the amazing things God can accomplish when we allow God access to our lives, there is no way we would live any other way.  God gave us purpose.  God gave us a mission.  And God gives us everything we need to see the mission through.  

The same is true for you.  Do you know what your mission is?  Have you allowed God full access to the life he has given you?  If not, ask.  Ask for clarity and direction and purpose.  But don't be surprised if God asks you to step WAY out of your comfort zone.  I promise you this:  once you take that first step, the following steps are much easier to take.  So go ahead, let God's strength be made perfect in your weakness.  Go after that God-sized dream or passion.  You will have no earthly idea how things are falling into place and mountains are being moved, but you will, you most certainly will, gain a glimpse of heaven and realize how powerful and mighty our God truly is.  Praise him!  

Photo Credit

Meet The Ethiopian Tooth Fairy....

I have said this many times before, but adopting older children (internationally, in this case) is amazing for so many reasons.  Not the least of these reasons being that once language barriers are overcome and trust is built, they can clearly communicate about their past, their histories, their first families, their trauma, their grief, their dreams, and their culture and traditions.  I am like a kid at Christmas when Big Sister and Sporty get into "story mode"!  Pour me a cup of cheer and I'll pull up a chair for hours...if need be.  

Keeping in mind that oral tradition, in Ethiopia, is still such a big part of how stories are handed down from one generation to another, I imagine there are just as many versions of the story I am about to share as there are subcultures in this beautiful country.  Just last week while our family was on a ski and snowboarding vacation atop a beautiful mountaintop resort in a neighboring state, Big Sister and Sporty...while arguing over who gets to rub my feet (tough life, I know!)...were on a roll sharing stories of days past and memories made.  (Photo evidence of the awesome massages they give lest you think I make this good stuff/huge blessing up! In fact, Big Sister is rubbing my shoulders as I type this.) 

 As Big Sister took her turn sharing a story, I found myself intrigued and humored.  (She tells great stories, by the way!)  She shared a story about the Ethiopian version of the 'tooth fairy' that was too good not to pass along.  The entire story made me laugh and light up, knowing that despite the many traumas and past hurts in her life, her birth mother found ways to give her a childhood as best as she could.  She found ways to pass along fun traditions, amidst the daily struggle for survival.  Some things, I am coming to learn, are simply universal.  Family love is universal.  I found myself imagining this scene she was describing play out in a land far away, by people who often do not know where their next meal will come from.  The mud huts or corrugated tin makeshift residences, the dirt roads, the furniture-less homes.  The community latrine and water supply.  Home! 

I thought the best way to share this story with you was to let Big Sister share it herself.  So, I captured a quick video of her telling the story of the Ethiopia tooth fairy....who is...A BIRD!  Watch and enjoy! 

In case you missed or were not able to understand the main parts of this story, I will summarize.  When a child loses her or his tooth, the child and caregiver go outside and sing, "Bird, bird, you can have my teeth, I can have your teeth."  (Never mind that fact that most birds do not have teeth.  Perhaps one of the few rare species of birds that do have teeth were flying around her hometown.  I do not know, but yes I did spend considerable time researching birds with teeth.  Why?  I dunno?!  Big Sister fell on the floor laughing when I told her most birds do not have teeth.)  

Photo Credit

Anyway, after singing the line about exchanging teeth with the bird, the child then tosses the tooth up unto the rooftop.  If the bird takes the tooth (and no one goes to actually check, but I assume mom/dad/guardian may take the tooth just as we parents do here in the states), then the child will be blessed with good teeth and oral hygiene.  If not, well...tough luck I guess?!   Either way, the fact that children on the other side of the world, living in abject poverty, celebrate milestones just as we do here in uber rich America, made me smile.  It filled me with hope.  It filled me with peace, for some odd reason.  We are often so wrapped up in the daily grind, our task lists, our over-programmed schedules, that we may perhaps fail to realize and embrace the universal nature and universal love of family and shared blessings.  

As we close out another Christmas, I pray that we are able to focus on gifts that really matter.  Love, mercy, compassion, kindness, bearing one another's burdens.  The kind of gifts that are often found not under the tree, but around the tree.  In those people we hold nearest and dearest.  I pray that this year we are able to cherish those gifts a little more, because at the end of the day I think we all know that the self-giving gifts we share with those who we hold close are the gifts that truly matter.  Just as Jesus giving his life for us is the best gift we can ever be given, the best gifts we can give are gifts that demonstrate selfless love.  While Big Sister's birth mother might not be here to see her daughter light up and she passes along a tradition to her new family, her mother's spirit was certainly present.  I am thankful for her selfless love and sacrifice each and every day and know that one day, in the Kingdom, we will all be united, free from disease and poverty and all pains and struggles.  

Food Wars and the Adopted Child

Food Wars!  

No, I am not talking about slinging food across the table or declaring a food fight in a local restaurant.  I am talking about a battle that seems to begin, for many of us, prior to the flight home from our child's home country.  The battle where each and every meal and snack becomes a time for a child/children to assert control over their world by manipulating perhaps one of the few things they do have control over.  That is, the food they choose to eat.  

On some levels, this can be expected simply due to different smells, textures, previous malnutrition, sensory processing issues and the like.  Food is a basic necessity for life and many, many of our children have been deprived of this necessity.  The impact of those traumas may be with us for life.  That is the reality we are working with.  However, there is another reality.  Namely, we need to eat each and every day in order to be physically, emotionally, and spiritually healthy and our food choices greatly impact how we feel and operate in each of those categories.  Allowing our children to simply eat as they wish does not benefit the child, parent, or anyone else who has to interact with our children.  I often hear people say, "I want my children to have a good relationship with food and therefore don't force her/him to eat anything."  That sounds nice and may indeed work for some families (I do not believe there is a one size fits all solution here), but I also want my children to have a good relationship with healthy food and therefore do encourage, motivate, and incentivize them to eat the healthy stuff so that they can be rewarded with something they prefer.  If they choose not to eat the meal, they are also choosing not to be rewarded.  

On still yet other levels, I believe these are control battles.  Heck, when all else in your world seems to be spinning out of control, who wouldn't be grasping for that one little thing that can be controlled.  Our children did not choose to be born into poverty.  They did not choose to watch their birth parents suffer horrible illnesses and die.  For the most part, they did not choose their new family.  They did not choose their new siblings.  They did not choose where they would or would not go to school in their new country, in their new family.  The list goes on.  They will however choose to turn their back on a plate of American food and pout like a three-year-old at each and every meal.  It is frustrating beyond frustrating.  I get it!  But, by putting myself in their shoes for just one minute, I can feel the anxiety taking over. The anxiety that is interwoven into our children' fabric.  But, I also am a mom of five strong-willed kids and I believe nutritious food is absolutely essential to overall well being.  I cannot, I will not, hand over my sanity and meal time (times three, plus a snack or two daily) to the gremlins.  It would be anarchy in our house.  I guarantee it!  Because of these reasons, our family has chosen to be unwavering and firm regarding healthy food choices with the hope that our children develop a taste for fruits, vegetables, whole grains, nuts, and other unprocessed healthy food.  Because let's face it, the taste does not come naturally here in America...land of processed, manipulated, over-sugared, over-salted, over-fatted, convenient, pre-packaged food.  And because nutrition, fitness, and integrated well-being are extremely important and high on my list of 'mom goals', this is indeed a battle I choose to engage in, keeping in mind my goal is never to punish or withhold, but to develop the taste for healthy food that will facilitate an overall healthy lifestyle.

While I understand this approach is not for everyone and I certainly respect diverse viewpoints, we have had great success with this model.  Sporty, who turned his back to the table for months after arriving home, will now gobble down plate after plate of fresh vegetables.  He will now eat Every. Single. Food. that he adamantly refused when first coming home.  Big Sister initially refused anything that she suspected was a tomato (insert anything and everything red).  She has only been home three months and gobbles down the reds, greens, yellows, and everything in between.  Do they absolutely love everything put on their plates?  Of course not!  Is that OK?  Most definitely.  Will I ever force a child to eat what is on their plates?  Never.  Will I reward children who do eat healthily with ice cream or a another treat?  Yup!  We all have favorites and least favorites.  However, my mama heart and mind rest easy knowing my children are filled and fueled with the best nutrition I am able to provide for them.  And while they may think that me giving in to their desires means they can trust me to meet there needs (because let me remind you, food is also a huge trust issue for our children), I tend to take a different approach.  Most importantly, then, is that my children trust that I will provide them with the food they need to thrive.  All of my children witness me eat healthily and exercise daily.  While they may pout and grunt at the vegetables on their plate, I remind them that vegetables are what makes mommy strong and fit.  And I know that being fit is one thing they admire about me, because they tell me so.  With that being said, I use it as leverage and try to lead by example.  Because at the end of the day, our children will more than likely follow not what we are saying, but what we are doing.  

One note of caution:  it is absolutely essential to understand your child's past trauma and hurt when incorporating food strategies.  For a child that was severely malnourished either prenatally or postnatally, had food withheld as punishment, has sensory processing disorders, or any other disorder or delay, it is critical to discuss nutrition with your pediatrician and other specialists.  We came to our decisions after ruling out serious medical and emotional issues tied to food.  Please see the video clip below for Dr. Karyn Purvis' approach to food issues.  

The following video clip from Dr. Karyn Purvis, the expert of all experts on parenting children from hurt and broken backgrounds, provides clinical expertise and psychological rationale that may help us better understand our children's real hurt.  She also suggest ways of dealing with food issues and urges us not to make food a "blood bath."  Keeping in mind that I am not nearly as calm as Dr. Purvis and rarely have classical music playing in the background, our family has modified her suggestions to fit our crazy, strong-willed household and while we do not make food issues a "blood bath", everyone must eat her or his vegetables and whole grains if they would like anything sweet or more preferred.  End of story. 

I Guess This Is Home?!

When you spend nearly a decade moving around, chasing opportunities and following where the military leads, it is a strange feeling to finally look at a house and for the first time as an adult realize that this house, this neighborhood, this church family, this community, this school system, soccer team, etc. is not just another house or neighborhood, but rather our home.  So strange in fact, that it took me over two years to finally accept that were indeed home and to start putting down roots.  Even then, I didn't let myself grow too attached because I knew that at any moment I could hear my spouse utter those words, "Hey, there is this great opportunity....in Bangladesh."  Or something like that.  Some of you know exactly what I am talking about.  It could come at any time, so we dare let ourselves get too comfortable, too attached.  

Just recently, after being in our current home for nearly five years and settling in nicely in all areas, he came home with the news.  The words.  The words that bring great anticipation, a little fear, and whole lot of questions.  The opportunity, praise God, was not in Bangladesh.  It would be a good career opportunity.  It would be on the water.  (We both love the idea of living on the water.)  It would be a little closer to extended family.  It would be exciting.  We initially agreed to to throw our hat in the ring.  Why not?  What do we have to lose?  

Then, panic set in.  We can't do this.  Big Sister just arrived.  Larry is starting Kindergarten.  Sporty is excelling in and out of the classroom.  I am in my second year of Seminary and have never been so passionate about working toward God's purpose in our lives.  We love our entire community.  Our village.    

Then, reality set in.  Accompanied by a mix of emotions.  It is not just the two of us.  There is so much more to our family these days.  The 'opportunity' would not have the cultural resources that we cherish here.  It would not have the excellent soccer coaches and training opportunities.  It would not be close to my school.  It would not have our current community, our church.  It would not have an acclaimed and globally diverse school system.  It would be overly white.  It would be too much of a risk.  We couldn't do it.  For the first time ever, we would be letting the so-called opportunity pass.  And we were at peace.  Because God does not call us to chase opportunity, he calls us to chase him.  

In the years following undergrad, some friends would joke that I lived out of a Uhaul.  That was actually fairly accurate.  A few months in one location, a few years in another.  The only plan was to go where the next door opened.  It is a strange way to live, but it was familiar and I enjoyed the thrill.  Then, my path crossed that of my future husband.  Another Uhaul resident.  We were married within a year (crazy, I know) and continued the follow open doors and God's calling.  It was easier to do before children arrived and I thank God for those years of adventure.   

Years ago, I had a friend tell me that his family was no longer "Light Infantry", but rather an entire "Mechanized Armor Division."  At the time he told me this, I could have been considered a "Military Scout."  It was just me, with not a care in the world.  Now, I completely understand those words, because they are how I feel most days.  We are no longer just two people united in marriage, but rather part of God's interweaving of people and places.  Boots and a backpack don't really cut it these days.  There are so many moving parts to consider.  And sometimes the opportunity is right where we are.  No Uhauls needed.  It still sounds strange to say this, but we are home! 

...at least until the Lord tells us to move! 

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight. -Proverbs 3:5-7

The Adopted Child and Socially Awkward Behavior

The other day I heard a friend calling up to Sporty, who was near his bedroom window.  "Hey, do you want to come out and play basketball?," his friend asked.  Without missing a beat, Sporty responded, "Sure, I'll be right out!"  Now, I know what some of you are thinking.  So what?  What is the big deal about that?  Kids have these sorts of exchanges all of the time.  While that it certainly true, those of you who have experienced seemingly socially bizarre behavior with your adopted children know that it is a huge deal when our children learn to interact in socially acceptable ways with adults and other children.  I believe this past summer was our turning point! 

When we first came home with Sporty a little over 19 months ago (Wow, has it been that long?!), this exchange would never had happened.  In fact, the reality of how this situation has played out in the past had me scratching my head for quite some time.  (And sometimes apologizing to the 'victim'.)  Sporty, a child who was by all means very social and active at the Transition Home in Ethiopia, seemed to display socially awkward or downright rude behavior in most social situations here in America.  This went on for months.  A friend would go out of his way to stop by and try to include Sporty in some activity and Sporty would turn his back on said friend and refuse to answer.  An adult would ask him a question and Sporty would look at the ground and mumble some incoherent response.  Sporty's soccer teammates would try to start up conversation only to be met with a sullen facial expression and silence.  (Fact: I had more conversations with his teammates while carpooling to and from practice and games than he had with them the entire season last year.)  What was going on?  At home, Sporty had normal interactions with me and his immediate family, and his teachers were singing his praises.  He was cooperative and would play with others at school, but outside of the school setting he seemed to be at a loss for how to act socially.  Why the bizarre behavior in social settings?  

For those of us with older adopted children from Ethiopia, these awkward behaviors seem inconsistent with the social and engaged children we met at the orphanage or transition home.  Read: at the transition home.  In her or his home country, in her or his comfort zone.  Of course their behavior will be different in America, at least initially.  Everything is different.  Ethiopia was a place that he or she was familiar with and here, well, he or she is just learning about the new environment and I can only imagine how stressful that may be.  Do you like to be called on or called out unexpectedly in class or at a meeting?  Probably not.  Our children are called out daily...whether at school, church, or just out and about in the neighborhood.  Yikes!  All eyes on the new kid...

With Big Sister arriving on the scene this past summer, I had the chance to view her initial social interactions with veteran eyes and saw something that I probably missed last year.  Our adopted children, already under so much stress due to this huge life change and probably filled with anxiety beyond measure, were trying to hide.  I believe they were trying to make themselves invisible as a means of coping with the anxiety.  I imagine them having an internal conversation along the lines of this: "Maybe if I don't make eye contact, this situation that is making me feel distressed will go away?"  Or this:  "Perhaps if I don't answer, they will forget about me and I can just return to my comfort zone."  As parents who may want for our children to be connected socially with peers, these situations can be both heartbreaking and frustrating.  However, with compassion, consistent coaching, and lots of reassurance, our children can learn how to respond in socially acceptable ways and build confidence along the way.  Most of us are social creatures and crave acceptance and belonging.  We all want to live a purposeful life.  Our children are no different.  Just because they may not know how to respond, does not mean they do not really want to learn how to respond, no matter how hard they may fight us initially.  It is our job to teach them and coach them and eventually, we hope, things will start to flow.  

Last Spring, after prayers one night Sporty came right out and asked me how he could make friends.  He must have been wrestling with this for some time and came to a place where he was comfortable and secure and ready to take the next step.  So, we had a little chat about making friends, filled with examples and illustrations.  This past summer, Sporty spent a good portion of every day with neighborhood friends...playing sports, swimming, riding bikes, etc.  They had a summer like the ones I remember: outdoor all day with friends, home only to check in and eat.  And I was a happy mom.  

While Big Sister, perhaps due to her gender, craves social interactions and is thrilled to be in a classroom with peers and on a soccer team with girls her age, she has some socially strange behavior of her own.  She growls, friends.  Yes, growls.  And chews things she finds on the ground.  Two nights ago, my mother-in-law gave her a birthday gift.  Not knowing how to respond or how to be grateful, when asked what she thought she was going to do with the gift she said, "Throw it in the trash."  Yup, that is what she said.  Side note: I am becoming a damage control expert.  So just when we normalized one child socially, another has backfilled.  That is OK.  We will work through her anxieties as well.  One day at a time.  If you ask her a question and she doesn't respond appropriately, please do not assume she is being rude on purpose or blowing you off.  Trust that I am coaching and reassuring her at home and that her behavior may simply be rooted in anxiety.  Her previous life was not a walk in the park.  It taught her not to trust.  She is now learning that it is OK to trust and that will take time.  God heals! 

I pray that one year from now I will be able to report on the relationships she has formed and the hurdles she has jumped.  God is walking with us, carrying us some days, and telling us to pick up the pace on others.  Some days, God simply asks that we survive.  Being an active part in God healing a broken child is extremely difficult.  Sometimes I don't have an ounce of energy left at the end of the day.  I crawl into bed and pull the covers up.  I thank God for transforming me on this journey and allowing me to take part.  I thank God for another day in his creation and ask that he provides all the wisdom, discernment, and energy that we all need to make it through another.  I thank God for new mercies each and every day.  Then, I crash.  Joyfully, humbly, and purposefully having exerted all of the energy I was given for the day.

Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed,
  for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
  great is your faithfulness.  -Lamentations 3:22-23

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One Month Home

Only God!


Only God can take a hesitant, unsure (albeit beautiful) smile such as this:

And turn it into this easy, big, and confident smile in one month's time:

Seriously, look at that huge grin!  I love it.  (What you cannot see in this picture...what caused her to grin from ear to ear...was the seeing my high school and college graduation photos at my parent's house.  No, I will not post those.  Ha!  (Friends, you may never realize how much some children value the opportunity and access to a good education!  Big Sister talks about school every day.  She is nervous, but oh so excited!)  It never ceases to amaze me how quickly healing and bonding can come, once we...the have's...respond to God's call to care for the have not's.  If you are feeling the tug, please do. not. be. scared!  Of course, it is far from easy...and some transitions are way more difficult than others, but man...we are no where near the place we landed one month ago.  Just looking at that big smile reassures me that me are making progress.

I cannot believe how much has been accomplished.  God is on the move, no doubt!  Here are some highlights from our first month home:

• Learned to ride a bike.  Mastered riding a bike.  
• Learned to swim.  Is confident enough in the water to venture into the deep end of the pool.
• Her English is improving rapidly.  She reads and does schoolwork for a few hours each day.  Most nights, I have to turn off her bedroom light so that she stops reading and goes to sleep.
• She is assimilating well into our family and culture. She picks up on social cues and responds accordingly.  Please and thank you and excuse me are spoken easily and with confidence.
• We have had one tooth pulled, one cavity filled and sealed, and spaces put in to allow for braces to be put on.
• We are caught up on all vaccines and are "paper ready" for school. We are registered to begin classes in the Fall.
• We have completed Grades 1, 2, and 3 summer course work for math (and some English) and hope to complete Grade 4 in August.  
• She has bonded with all members of our family and Sporty has taken her under his wing to include her in all neighborhood social activities.  
• She has made American friends and Ethiopian-American friends.  She loves being social.
• She is engaged in her Sunday School class and has attended VBS willingly and happily.  
• She trusts me to comfort and reassure her.  She allows me to mother and nurture her.
• She has a good relationship with her father.  
• She is an amazing big sister to all of the Littles.  She is loving and kind and nurturing.
• She jumps right in with household duties without being asked.
• She has been a special gift to our family each and every day! 

In short, things are moving along quite nicely.  We have grief and a hurt past to contend with, but I feel God moving us all forward to bigger and better plans.  We have been so blessed by her presence in our home that it is nearly impossible for me to remember what life was like before she arrived.  

Father God, thank you for trusting us.  For trusting us in our imperfect selves to parent and love your children.  Even when we don't think we are up for the challenge, you are always there to comfort, reassure, and guide our steps.  I cannot imagine what life would be like had we not realized that our purpose in this life was never about us.  That our purpose was to serve you by loving others the way you loved us.  Please continue to provide all that we need to get through each day and help keep our eyes set on you and working toward your purpose on our lives.  We love you!  We trust you!  We thank you!  

Keep us keepin' on...we know it is all about you!

A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in his holy dwelling. 

-Psalm 68:5

The Other Woman

I think about her quite often.  Daily to be exact.  I have known about her for over five months now.  At first, she was just a name on a piece of paper.  That name was attached to a story.  A story that would entwine her life with mine, her story with my story.  The name on the paper, attached to a story, that attached to my life would soon become a face.

I anticipated our meeting for nearly two months.  I have never in my life been faced with such a hopeless and simultaneously hopeful encounter.  She was the other woman.  The woman who had suffered many losses and who had endured more than I am privy to share.  The woman who was losing her daughter so that her daughter can gain life.  A woman, through no fault of her own, who is ostracized and ill.  She was left with no other choice.  She had tried every other option.  Still, every door she tried to walk through was slammed in her face.  There was no other family.  No income.  No school.  No welfare system or safety net.  She looks out and sees the countless children roaming the streets looking for food, work, or trouble.  She knows chat and alcohol are the substances many are choosing to numb their pain.  She chooses a different path for her daughter, because that is what mothers do.  Mothers sacrifice so that their children can live.

This is a sacrifice and choice I wish on no one.  I could not imagine.  I cannot imagine.


I lost sleep thinking about our meeting.  What could I possibly say to her?  Offer her?  What would she be like?  How sickly would she look?  Would she like me?  Accept me?  What would she ask of me?  


What is wrong with the world that this is even happening?  "This is not fair," I cried out to God many times.  "No, God...why does she have to lose a child?  Isn't there another option?  Why not?," I would demand.  "I want another option! Please!  Both of them...we can help both of them," I pleaded. 


But, I already knew this is not how international adoption works.  At least not according to the rules and laws as they have been explained to me.  No money, help, or support could ever be exchanged.  First, a child is declared an orphan through all proper channels THEN an adoptive family is sought.  Through this order of events, it (in theory) prevents any money or goods being exchanged for a child.  I understand the need to create ethical practices that keep everything on the up-and-up.  I understand the need to ensure the process is squeaky clean.  After all, we chose an adoption agency with an unblemished record.  


We wanted to welcome a child into our home who didn't have a family.  This scenario was a bit messier than our previous two adoptions.  I wasn't sure what God was doing, but he assured me night after night that we are to march forward.  "And the widow," I would hear in the stillness of my heart.  "Don't forget the widow."  Was this God's way of making sure I do not forget the other part of James 1:27?  A lot of us are quick to remember the orphans, but do not seem to speak as loudly and act as boldly in the widow arena. Do we simply not know what to do?  I imagine that is part of it.  I imagine many of us would adopt widows if we could.  I know I would.  There are a few, but not many trails blazed in this arena, at least that I am aware of.  But God tells us that we are called to the orphans and the widows.   Not the orphans or the widows.  "But, how God?  How?  What?  Where?  Please, make your desires clear."  


I spent the months leading up to our meeting asking God to make his will clear.  I asked him to please keep a crack in the door that opens to her birth mother.  Please God, do not let her drift back to her town, sick and alone, and leave us in the dark wondering what became of her.  Please, please keep that door opened until we can figure out that we are supposed to do.  


The day we met. 


Her name on a piece a paper.  Her story entwined with my story, attached to my life. Her face next to my face.  We are both mothers.  Both mothers to the same girl.  We become one family, me and the other woman, and our daughter.  We talk and learn about each other.  I ask questions, she answers.  She shares her story, smiles, and looks peaceful.  She looks healthier than she did a few months earlier, when she wasn't sure what would become of her daughter.  She has put on weight and looks at ease...which puts me at ease.  Though horribly crappy, this is the best solution at this moment in time.  I feel assured that this is the truth.  So far from perfect and not the resolution this idealist wants, but it is the best available alternative.  Big Sister was officially declared an orphan months before we ever saw her face, knew her story, learned about her birth mother.  She was an orphan according to all definitions under the sun.  That was her label.  Her identity.  


On this day in April, she would become an orphan no longer. The birth mother would consent.  We would consent.  The judge would approve.  The paperwork was complete.  The file was closed.  


Two mothers.  8000 miles apart. One daughter.  In some ways, I guess you could say we are caring for the widow.  I don't truly believe that though, to be perfectly honest.  In many ways, I believe we are not doing nearly enough to help widows and/or prevent injustices all together.  These are big problems and one person or one organization will never be the answer.  I know Big Sister's birth mother is at peace knowing her daughter is safe.  But is she really at peace?  As a mother, I am not sure I would ever be at peace knowing that giving up my child was the best alternative.  What kind of crap is that?  


What is the answer?  How do we care for the widow?  How do we care for the widow who lives 8000 miles away?  I don't have an answer to that question.  I would love to hear any and all suggestions or insights.  Orphan care, while messy, is at least navigable.  "But the widow," the silent still voice repeats in my head.  "Don't forget about the widow."   


The big answer, I truly believe and have said many times, is to share each other's burdens...locally, regionally, globally.  Balance the scales a bit.  It is not about being fair.  It is not about me.  It is not about you.  It is not about "your" stuff or "my" stuff.  It is about loving like Jesus loved.  Loving others the way he loved us.  It is about selfless love, even when it comes to parenting.  If we truly believed that all comes from God and belongs to God, I think we would be a lot more selfless.  God, help us to be more selfless.  Love requires sacrifice, as you demonstrated on the cross.  You gave your life so that we may have life in abundance.  Help us to give our life back to you so that others may experience the abundance that most of us take for granted every day.  Help us, God, to not forget the widow.  Help us to love the other woman, to welcome the other woman.  If there is a child in our home whom was not formed in my womb, help me remember and honor the womb where my child, our child, was perfectly knit.  Lead us...light the way.  Oh, and thank you for keeping that crack in the door.  


James 1:27
Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.

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When Your Adopted Child "Wants To Go Back"

There can be few things more piercing to an adoptive parent's ears and hearts as phrases such as "You're not my real mom" and "I want to go back to (insert birth country)".  Honestly, I am not sure why these phrases do not hurt me as much as I thought they would pre-adoption.  (I wrote a post titled "Mean Stepmom" a while back for similar situations.)  It is probably because there are too many real issues to deal with day in and day out and rather than listening to the words that come out of their mouths, I try to listen more closely to their hearts and observe more closely their daily interactions to try and discern what the real problems may be.  Considering the last time Sporty told me that "he wanted to go back" the preceding event was melted cheese on his egg sandwich, I am not apt to take these phrases too seriously.  Friends...I put cheese on his egg sandwich and he pouted like a five-year-old and threw out his go-to phrase when things (especially if they are topped with cheese) do not go his way.  That particular time I handled it equally as a five-year-old and told him to grow up.  Not mature, I know.  But I digress...


With that being said, I absolutely sympathize with the fact that three of my children have lost their home country and with the adoption into our family have indeed lost a huge part of their earthly identity.  I grew up in Philadelphia and if as a preteen (an emotionally volatile time to begin with) someone would have moved me away not only from my family but also the cultural context I was familiar with, to...oh, I don't know...Montana or Texas, I would almost certainly be at a loss initially.  And that is with having the ability to verbally communicate and being able to fit in physically.  What if I had neither language or similar physical traits and knew there was no going back.  "Assimilate or Bust" is what was painted on my and your children's airplane window on the flight home.  Like I have said countless times, I ask God daily to help me feel what our children are feeling so that I can best love them and parent them.  I ask for their raw emotions to be ingrained in me so that I cannot forget where they come from and what they have been through.  So, most of the time when these phrases are thrown my way, I know they are not truly meant and rather that there are other underlying issues such as hurt feelings or a missed cue on my part that need to be addressed.   


I imagine there are indeed times when our children (and perhaps yours) do really believe that they would like to go back to their birth country.  However, God spoke to my heart even before our children arrived home reassured me that these phrases, even though they might sting, are not really true, at least not on the level we might think.  I tend to view them as a homesickness of sorts, an empty feeling, a disorientation that needs to be dealt with.  Only, we are not orienting ourselves back to their home country (at least not in our case...that I know of. God are you laughing?) and therefore we need to direct our attention and energies to creating more compassion and unity within our family so that we can grow forward, together.  Unity is a phrase I use a lot around our home.  When I sense someone is trying to be divisive (such as pulling one or more children or even a parent away from the core family values so to be not alone), I tend to jump all over it.  Sometimes in more of Drill Sergeant manner than mother (I am working on that), but I refuse to risk the unity of our family for the sake of any one member's particular issue at the time.  Our family = cohesive unit.  We are all unique and stubborn and special in our own way, and we are not together 24/7, but together we are a unit and do not exist apart from all members.  God brought us together as a family for his purpose and it is our job to realize that purpose, together.  We all have something to learn and teach one another.  That is how I believe I God desires it to be, in my opinion.   


Back on point, a not so funny story.  In fact, this is probably every adoptive parent's worst nightmare.  I bet you could think of nothing worse.  (Well, Bethany, maybe you could think of something.  I am glad your story preceded ours, otherwise I would feel lonely.)  It was the day of our twelve month post placement visit and the house had been straightened up, everyone fed, and we were waiting patiently for our social worker to arrive.  Sporty asked me if he could go outside and play with his friend.  (Hindsight, I should have let him!)  Because Stacey, our social worker, was about to show up any minute, I told him he could not and he needed to wait.  Because he has the coping skills of a five-year-old at times (I am not making this up, Dr. Karyn Purvis often speaks of the emotional age of adopted children being a lot younger than their birth age), he proceeded to have an all-out meltdown.  He lost control and completely unraveled.  He told me he hated it here and was going to tell Stacey that he wanted to go back to Ethiopia.  I told him he is free to tell her whatever he'd like.  When she arrived five minutes later, that is exactly what he did.  To make matter worse, Larry (always dramatic and sprinkling fuel to any half-lit fire) rushed in the room and added, "And Sporty said he also wants to die!"  (Now, Sporty absolutely did not say that...Larry was just looking for a reaction.  If you know him, you'd understand.)  Thank goodness our social worker has known us for many years and has seen our family together on countless happy occasions.  She has watched us interact in and outside of our home.  I gave her a brief rundown of what had happened prior to her arrival along with explaining how he deals with being told no and asked her to kindly show up unexpected one day during the following week.  She did just that and all was well.  Sporty apologized and told her that he really was happy here.  He explained that he just gets upset sometimes and also that things are hard sometimes. (That, I believe, was the truth coming from his heart.)  


My main point is that kids (people) say a lot of things, a lot which can be very hurtful to hear.  However, just like any person who has not learned to bridle their tongue, it probably causes them more harm then good and they probably do not mean exactly what they say.  Please do not think that I don't take my children's words seriously.  I do, but believe the truth of the words is not the words themselves but what their hearts are crying out and saying.  I take that very seriously.  Like, devoting my life to it seriously.  As Matthew 12:34 tells us, "Out of the overflow of the heart, the mouth speaks."  Therefore, it is not necessarily the words themselves I need to check, but rather the condition of our children's hearts.  In doing so, God also nudged me to get a better reign on my own tongue and examine the condition of my own heart.  As I continue to follow his lead, I am amazed at the changes occurring in our home, my marriage, and with our children.  Amazed.  Simply amazed and humbled.  (More to follow on this.) 

Finally, I refuse to forget that adoption has never been about me or even really our children, as much as it is a reflection of my love for Jesus and my gratefulness for the eternal gift he has given me through my adoption into his kingdom.  With my eyes on the Lord, it is quite easy to see how imperfect all else is in the world.  Our job, I believe, is simply to love like he did and reach out and help in all ways possible.  Sometimes (OK, always) loving with abandon involves the risk of getting hurt.  So be it!  "Bring it on," I say.  I'm sure we have all hurt our parents unintentionally over the years, but they love us anyway.  Our Heavenly Father loves us all unconditionally, even though I am certain we tell him many times, "But God, I want to go back....to wherever we happened to be when he redirected our paths."  With that in mind, I hear the words coming out of their mouths but direct my energy to words of their hearts.  I try to point their hearts toward Jesus and explain that the world is broken place.  Every night, we pray together and I ask God to give our children wisdom beyond their years and his peace and reassurance that day by day, we are healing and growing together in accordance to his plan for our family.  And do you know what?   I am certain that every night God hears our prayers and answers.  I have felt his presence more closely than ever and just because we go through trials, this does not mean we are walking alone or are off path.  


Thinking back to where I was and to the person who I was before allowing God to transform me, I am amazed at all he has done through our family.  Amazed.  I don't even resemble the person I was five years ago, praise him!  When we simply chose to let him in and direct our path, he took over.  Sometimes it can be painful, but I trust Paul's words in Romans 8:28 that in all things God works for the good of those who love him.  And if we love him, we are going to seek to be like him, even if it means we put ourselves out there for hurt children who will occasionally get off path and need to be redirected and reminded that there is no going back.  Not for them.  Not for us.  Unity in Christ.  


We love because he first loved us. -1 John 4:19 


If you have a personal experience or advice you would like to share, please leave it in the comment section so that we can all learn from each other!  

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A Hand Up, Not Hand Out and Other Communication Conundrums

Communication, while a basic human function, can be exceedingly simply and yet ridiculously complex all the same time.  Last week, the reality of the communication conundrum we all often experience in our daily lives was reinforced...through no other channel than that of the source daily communication conundrums worldwide: Facebook.  (Insert lots of "of courses" and laughs.)  All of us have been there at some point.  We send a message by saying or writing something that we believe to be crystal clear and the receiver of the message hears something totally different.  How does this happen?  It is quite simple actually.  We are each a composition of all our past life experiences; those experiences coupled with our unique identities make up our own context, which affects how we interpret the world around us.  


What happened exactly?  Well, to start I broke my own personal rule and posted something on Facebook that although I did not believe to be political in nature, evoked a politics-oriented thread of heated comments.  You know, the kind of thread we all love to hate.  One that goes nowhere and ends up with everyone feeling unheard and not validated.  I say a big, "Boo" to threads like this and somehow I fell into the trap.  And to that, I say a big, "Boo" to me as well.   Anyway, the statement that I made was that I believe insurance company executives earn way too much money at the expense of patients and doctors.  Some earn tens of thousands of dollars per day while the average American earns less than $40K per year.  I implied that while the Affordable Care Act is certainly far from perfect (and to be clear I don't agree with all aspects of the plan), our current system is equally far from perfect.  As you can probably imagine, my statement about insurance executives salaries was read as a campaign endorsement or sorts...someone even interpreted my statement as me supporting abortion.  What?!  Umm...have I mentioned I have three adopted children?  I value the dignity of all human life.  All! 

Two good things came out of the thread.  First, it was a reminder to be careful to chose my words carefully.  Second, the heated discussion further cemented my belief that the widening gap between the rich and the poor is the biggest factor in our national and global problems, and absolutely needs to be addressed in our generation.  Things simply cannot continue along this trajectory, with the rich getting richer and the poor getting poorer, without something collapsing.  Most of us seem to want to focus on one or two minor details instead of looking at the bigger problems.  We are majoring in the minors, all the while thirty thousand people die each day from preventable illnesses and 32 million are uninsured in America...the richest nation in the world.  As my Ethiopian children would say, "Mommy, dis is a no!"  


To be clear, I am not a big proponent of hand outs.  As Richard Stearns (CEO of World Vision International) believes, "Hand ups and not hand outs" are the answer.  Hand outs, while sometimes absolutely necessary, do not solve long term problems.  They address immediate needs.  Additionally, continued hand outs create a system where people are relying on the hand out and not gainfully employed, or looking to be.  A great example is the broken state of our nation's welfare system.  Some estimates point to an annual $60 Billion in Medicare fraud.  $60 Billion!  The UN estimates that only $30 Billion a year could solve world hunger.  This is a problem, an extremely costly problem in terms of money and lives.  It is quite clear then that stopping at the hand out and not resolving to offer a hand up does not fix bigger problems.  Sounds like a lot of work, right?  But then again, how many of these problems are due to the prevalent injustices in our world?  As Max Lucado once said, "Many of us succeed in life simple because we were born on third base.  Yet, so many others aren't even born on a team."  In so many cases, human dignity has been completely destroyed.  Without one's dignity, what would you or I be?  


I love World Vision's model of partnering with people to ensure they are giving the hand up needed to start and sustain a purposeful existence.  Their organizational model is the first that comes to mind when speaking of hand ups, not hand outs.  Here is their mission statement:  World Vision is an international partnership of Christians whose mission is to follow our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ in working with the poor and oppressed to promote human transformation, seek justice, and bear witness to the good news of the Kingdom of God.  The key words, I believe, are partnership, working with, seeking justice, and Kingdom living.  In order bear witness to the good news of the kingdom, we need to work with the marginalized and be the voice for the voiceless.  As Paulo Freire wrote in The Pedagogy of the Oppressed, "True generosity consists precisely in fighting to destroy the causes which nourish false charity. False charity constrains the fearful and subdued, the "rejects of life," to extend their trembling hands. True generosity lies in striving so that these hands--whether of individuals or entire peoples--need be extended less and less in supplication, so that more and more they become human hands which work and, working, transform the world.”


Since I believe I am one of the lucky ones born on third base and that every one of God's children deserves to be on a team, you may be able to imagine how some of my beliefs and passion for justice could be misinterpreted as political statements.  (This is never my intention, I assure you.)  While I am certainly proud of my citizenship and value our freedom, my freedom in Christ...that is, my freedom to serve as Christ served, is a greater driving force than any political issue.  Christians are called to operate outside of and within the confines of our systems.  We are called not to simply memorize the Word, but to live the Word.  Part of living the Word will almost undoubtedly place you in a uphill climb.  However, I believe it is worth every bead of sweat, mocking joke, and sideways glance one may receive.  Most importantly, you will realize you are the path with Christ because he will show up in ways you could have never planned or imagined on your own.  


With the election year in full swing, I prayerfully ask you to consider directing your energies toward the real issues, the big problems that need attention.  The ones that may never be addressed on the circuit or in debates, the ones neither candidate wants to touch.  Be careful not to get pulled into the details and be cognizant of how either party may be using you a pawn...playing on your emotions to win a vote.  That is the nature of the beast.  As Christians we are called to higher living.  To be grace givers and grace receivers.  Most importantly, do not let the ugliness of the debates cause divisiveness in the Kingdom.  Until we all become one unified body in Christ... which crosses party lines...have no doubt, it is nearly impossible to fulfill our collective purpose.  


In closing, Romans 12:1-8 comes to mind:

Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship.  Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is —his good, pleasing and perfect will.

For by the grace given me I say to every one of you: Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment, in accordance with the faith God has distributed to each of you.  For just as each of us has one body with many members, and these members do not all have the same function, so in Christ we, though many, form one body, and each member belongs to all the others.  We have different gifts,according to the grace given to each of us. If your gift is prophesying, then prophesy in accordance with your faith; if it is serving, then serve; if it is teaching, then teach; if it is to encourage, then give encouragement; if it is giving, then give generously; if it is to lead, do it diligently; if it is to show mercy, do it cheerfully.

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