Defining the meaning of Sold-Out. For my kids' sake.

"She's one of those radical Christians. She's so spiritually minded that she's no earthy good, you know?"

Excuse me? Are you stinkin' kidding me!? She's a radical, spiritually minded Christian? ...you mean as opposed to some other kind?

As in the kind of Christians that just hold fast to the title, but not the person of Jesus? the politically correct, and therefore socially safe, kind that have no faith. hold no power. and see no breakthrough?

Are those the other type of "Christians" that you speak of? Just wanting to be clear here. You know, so I can intelligently follow along with your pathetic line of reasoning.

I'm sorry but comments like these enrage me.

Actually, I take that back. I'm not sorry. I think we, as a nation, are where we are today because of too many "sorry" Christians.

Christians who apologize for not being tolerant enough. who apologize for not embracing everyone's ridiculous notions of right and wrong... or the lack thereof.

Christians who apologize for keeping other Believers accountable to the Truth. Christians who, ultimately, allow themselves to be silenced from speaking the Name of Jesus, resigned to allow the "Majority" make the new and improved rules of conduct.

I'm not sorry. But I am mad.

Because it's mindsets like these (that are even in the Church) that can make the "radical" Believer feel like they need to just hop off the mothership and get a grip on reality.

"Earth to Christian. Do you read me?"


Uh...? Totally correct me if I'm wrong, but it seems to me that the only thing that's going to be of "Earthly good" is if we get our minds set on the things of the Spirit. So we can pull down Heaven into this realm.

Does "...Your Kingdom come...on earth as it is in heaven..." ring a bell?

One thing that I decided this week is that I refuse to raise "American Christians". Children who grow up thinking lukewarm is the norm.

I want my children to know that there is life outside of our little corner of the planet. That there are Christians around the world risking humiliation, torture, and death. just so they can praise Jesus and embrace the title of Christian.

instead of casually throwing it around like it's some club where you piously pay your weekly dues by sitting on a pew.

Richard Wurmbrand, in his book, "Tortured for Christ" says:

"It must be understood that there are no nominal, halfhearted, lukewarm Christians in Russia or China. The price Christians pay is far too great. The next point to remember is that persecution has always produced a better Christian- a witnessing Christian, a soul-winning Christian. communist persecution has backfired and produced serious, dedicated Christians such as are rarely seen in free lands. These people cannot understand how anyone can be a Christian and not want to win every soul they meet."

I want my girls to understand this from the get-go. to intercede for our Christian Siblings who are risking everything to lift up the name of Jesus.

I don't want them to take for granted that we have a hundred Bibles at our finger tips. and a church on every corner. and worship music on the radio.

I want them to understand that we are in a battle. whether we see it in this realm/land (yet) or not, it's there. They need to know this. so they can be equipped. so they can be BOTH spiritually minded and of earthly good.

You know, like Jesus was.

*****
If you are interested...you can get a kid-friendly newsletter version of Voice of the Martyrs. For free.

I just signed up today so I don't know what all it includes. But I do know that the Voice of the Martyrs newsletters (adult versions) we've received come with maps outlining the nations where Christians are considered illegal. or endangered.

Those maps will hang above our map of the world. on the wall of our dining room. so my girls are reminded to pray for them daily. as am I.

http://www.persecution.com/

http://www.kidsofcourage.com/

Preparing to... downsize?

Picture it.

The dinner table....peacefully eating a casserole when all of the sudden Mommy asks the kids a question.

"So guys, what would you think if we adopted someone one day?"

Blank stares. No reply. In fact, no response of any kind. though an eye might have twitched, but I can't be too sure.

Okay. let's try a different approach, shall we?.... "Do you remember what adoption is?"

Selah, with her elbow on the table, hand cupping her chin, didn't hesitate, as she nonchalantly answered.

"That's where you and Daddy give one of us away to another family."

Uh. *mind reeling for something intelligent to say* NO!!

This leaves Charis in tears, as she declares she doesn't want to be the one we give away. She doesn't want have another mommy. She wants to stay...*sob*....right....*sob*....here.

*insert her running to my lap and throwing herself in my arms*

Yup. We have dinner conversations like that. Openly asking our children how they'd feel if we suddenly up and gave them away.

Bless their sweet little hearts.

And for the record, we did, in fact, clarify the heart of our adoption question. Though I'm quite sure we'd done that before.

Note to self: Proceed carefully when use the "A" word.

Protecting the Innocent

Driving the 20 minutes home from my parent's house on Christmas Eve, my mind wandered to a place that's become all too familiar. At least recently.

The thought that somewhere, most likely within arm's reach of me right now, there are children who are not having a Merry Christmas. Nor the hope of one...

And I don't mean because of the lack of presents. Though yes, I'm sure that's their reality as well. But whose holidays, as well as the normal days, are filled with abuse...

A few weeks ago, as my girls danced around the living room, I was immediately struck with how peaceful our home is. and how some children never experience the atmosphere that our girls have come to expect as the norm.

The knowledge that there are children's lives who mirror something akin to a horror movie, on a daily basis... well, it haunts me.

And it is there that my mind locks. My brain becomes almost paralyzed to move past the thought of child abuse. and the accompanying images.

Truly, there are times that I get so overwhelmed with the thoughts that I literally have to make myself think on something else; those images being so uncomfortable to face.

But seriously? the irony in that statement disgusts me...

Facing the thought of a child being abused is uncomfortable to me?! Yet...what about a little girl facing the fist/temper/sexual advances of an enraged adult? What about her comfort level?

I've always had a soft heart for children. Even as a child, I was never one of the mean-spirited kids. I hated injustice and took up for the underdog.

And being a parent has only cemented that in me. For I think "What if my Selah had been born to someone else? What if she had been born into a family that molested her?"

And something in me rises up and says "Oh no you didn't!" I am literally gripped with an overwhelming desire to gather those children into my home. protect them. embrace them. and show that real love doesn't hurt.

Of course, only after stringing up those abusers by...whatever body part I can get a hold of.

Look, I'm just being honest here. I have very little tolerance for people who prey and/or hurt children. Innocent children. Children I may never meet, but who's silent cries literally pierce my heart.

And I'm left to wonder...where do I go from here?

Yes, I realize there are many "obvious" answers. Go adopt. Do foster care. Save one life at a time.

And while Jet and I commend those things and have discussed pursuing them... I honestly don't know what the Lord is asking of us at this moment. I don't want to start in the direction of something "good"...when there may be something "greater" in a little bit of a different direction.

Something that maybe only could originate in the heart of God. not in the mind of social services.

Please don't read me wrong. Don't send me emails saying how you think I'm dissing adoption. I'm not. My sister was adopted. For all intents and purposes, so was my dad. A lot of my childhood friends were....as well as the friends of my own children. I'm surrounded by the beauty of adoption...and love everything about the heart behind it.

But because my very being has suddenly become so violently plagued by these images, thoughts, and feelings, I want to know God specific purpose behind it. What is he asking of me? What exactly is he trying to stir up in me? What vision is he planting?

Do we become political advocates? use the connections we have around the world and stir up ...something?

Do we uproot our family and move to help start some care center on the other side of the globe?

Do we...? I have no clue. But I know something it stirring....

**While I was going to post some images to accompany my thoughts, for whatever reason I couldn't get the photos to cooperate. But...if you want something to grip your heart, go to this site. In fact, go to this site even if you don't feel like it. Their pictures say it all. And I think it's about time we all take notice of what's happening to the little ones. behind closed doors.

www.dreamcatchersforabusedchildren.com/

Sound the Alarm

The girls and I have been watching Little House on the Prairie. My niece has the entire series on DVD. And we've been slowly (sometimes not-so-slowly) going through the each Season's Episodes.

"Willy go sound the alarm! Tell every man you can get to meet us at the old well."

Mr. Olson yelled this as he began to run around his storeroom gathering supplies.

Camera pans to little Willy, sprinting to the little church/school house to ring the bell. A bell's toll that would bring men from all over their county.

Farmers would drop their hoe, leaving their crops unfinished. Woodcrafters would stop building the very house whose completion will bring money to feed their family. Mr. Olson would give equipment off his own store's shelves, essentially taking whatever profit he would have made and giving it away.

All because there was a need. All because someone sounded the alarm.

They were a community. A group of stranger brought together by two things: a love for the wilderness and a spirit of adventure that brought them to unclaimed land.

Yet they allowed this commonality to bind them. to make them family.

To the extent that, when a need arose, they worked together. Even into the middle of the night. giving up food, time spent with their own family, profit, and sleep.

Simply because someone needed them.

My mind seems completely incapable of seeing something like this...of being emotionally moved by something like this...without asking myself how I would react if I were a part of their community.

...without stepping back and taking a good look at how I do react as a part of my present-day community.

Do my friends know they can count on me like this? that I would drop everything to come to their aid in the face of tragedy? Have I gone out of my way to make this clear? to show, not by words, but by actions that I willl their need as my own?

Does my church family know this? People who may not hang in the same circle I do, but who worship with me on a weekly basis. who sit beside me while we listen to pastors speak of mirroring Jesus.

But more so...do people not close to me know this? people who are only bound to me because we're neighbors. or because we go to the same library. or because I happen to the be the person nearest in proximity to them at the moment need arises.

If someone were to Sound the Alarm, making it known, on whatever level, that they were in need of help... what would my reaction be? Would I be more caught up in the fact that my work will go unfinished? that I may lose some precious sleep? that my bank account may suffer their lack.

Or would I arm myself with Christ's compassion and step out? regardless of the cost to myself?

I ask. but I'm not sure I want to answer. I know my heart's hope. but I'm not sure I want to confess my action's proof. or lack thereof.

"They will know you by your love."

Oh Jesus, may I make You known, Lord, in my every deed. in my positioning myself to serve. even when it may cost me.

Tune my ear to the Alarm...that I might be your feet. the feet that run to comfort those in need.

Be An Elf

Did you know that SOMEONE in your area post office reads the letters to Santa and makes them available to the public?! I had no idea. None. Until now.

You can read through the letters. Pick one. And be Santa (aka. Jesus) to that child-in-need.

For some reason, Blogger is "iffy" about displaying the video on my blogsite. Sometimes it there...sometimes it's the html. Sorry.

Our first test....

I admit I was annoyed, at the very least. My dear hubby had said something that hurt and offended me right before church started. So feeling quite justified, I promptly sported the 'tude. You know, the ATTITUDE. The one that silently screams "You are wrong!" in every language possible. Followed by the ever-popular silent look of, "It doesn't matter that you apologized. I'm quite content to be angry, thank you very much."

Yes. I can be THAT mature. *groan*

So anyway...we're driving down the road after church. I'm still annoyed that he's not completely seeing it my way. Because, really, what other way is there? (insert rolling of the eyes here). And we pass by a busy parking lot.

Passing the woman.

She stood there holding a sign. "Family in need. Food. Gas. Money. Prayers." Beside her sat two small boys about my girls' ages. Immediately, any anger fell to the side. The reality of HER situation grabbed me by the shoulders, jerking some sense into me, screaming "Stop being petty! There are REAL problems in the world."

I look at Jet as we pull up to the red stoplight. He's already opening his wallet.

We sat there for a second, watching this woman humble herself, basically begging for anything people would give. She is most likely my age. She is a mom. She is in need. She is banking on someone having compassion as dozens of cars pass her by. My heart went out to her, rolling my window down.

As she walks over, I realize there's no time to really say all that I want to say. Do I just hand her money? Do I pray with her right here? Should we pull over and talk to her? My mind is going crazy. I want to speak hope to her. I want to display compassion. But after a few minutes of talking with her, the light turns green. So I quickly hand her money and promise to pray.

But as we drove away, it just didn't seem like enough, you know? We gave her money, yes. But we were driving back to our comfortable home; they were still on the street. So honestly, our offer of money felt kind of trite. I thought about how I would feel in her situation. The shame. The inability to provide for my children. The complete dependence on strangers to take pity on me.

And like I've been saying, God's been prepping our hearts to do more. To offer ourselves. To really LOVE. So a few miles down the road, we turned around. Fully prepared to offer them our home.

"Are you scared?" I asked Jet right before we pulled back into the parking lot where she was standing. "A little."

I wait in the car with the girls while Jet goes to talk to them (the husband is now with them as well). ...Long story short. Jet left his cell phone number. They didn't need to stay at our house. But they deeply appreciated our offer of friendship.

And *bam* just like that, God gave us the opportunity to ACT on the things he's been doing in our hearts. Maybe next time, "they" will need our home? I don't know. But I do know that God will give us the grace to act out what is in His heart.

And yes, I'm still nervous about what it all will entail. Yes, I'm a far cry from perfect, sporting a childish attitude from time to time. But God's grace covers me. And His compassion pours out in limitless supply over my life. So that I, in turn, can become more and more bold in displaying His love and compassion for others.

To the least of these. Part 2

My heart is softening.

Honestly, I always thought that I had a soft heart. I cry over injustices. Deep sobs well up in my chest when I hear stories of people who've experienced the power of God whether through the miraculous or an outstretched hand of a stranger. My heart goes out to the poor, the widowed, the lonely. Truly. It does. On a deep level, I do feel these things.

But I'm not sure that I've ever been moved to action, you know?

I mean, yes, I've done missions trips. ministered to the homeless. prayed with the lame. BUT this time is different. In my heart it feels different. For I can't explain it any other way except to say I'm being moved to act...

Something is stirring inside me. Calling me to step out. It may not sound different, but in my heart I know that it is. For in those above examples, I was prepared to do something. I had planned to do something. My goal in life, at that season in my life, was TO DO something.

This season has been different.

In my blissful complacentancy, I've been all too happy in the routine of raising my girls. worshipping the Lord. praying from the safety of my rather large house for those in need on the streets. Ahh, the comfort of it all.

Maybe in my heart...in the way back part that I feel but don't care to vocalize... I figured I was "due" for a break? You know, since I was in the ministry mode for YEARS. Missions trip after missions trip. Feedng the hungry. Clothing the poor. I led a ministry. I sacrificed countless hours and money. I did my time, thank you very much.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying this to glorify myself (eh. if anything I think it shows what a dope I can be). But to say, I'm actually not someone that just sits at home and does nothing. I kind of think I'm one of those "radical people" that some of you may try to avoid. *wry grin*

BUT the real question is am I a radical representation of the LOVE of Jesus on a daily basis? How about to those who hang out on the streets? The ones whose physical stance screams out, "I carry a gun and I'm not afraid to use it. So don't talk to me and I won't mess with you." Or how about to the ones that come weighed down with enough emotional baggage (and a desire to speak of said baggage) to tie up my evenings for the next 5 years? You know, the ones whose lives don't fit into my nicely organized life. What about THOSE people?

Sadly and to my shame I'd have to say No. I am not loving them. But THOSE are the people that are continually being laid on my heart. The unloveable. The discarded. The misunderstood.

And what gets me is...the Lord isn't asking me to sacrifice for them: money, clothes, food. He's asking me to give of myself. To offer my friendship and enter into a true relationship with them.

So yeah, that's where I am. There's a stirring in my heart and in our home that can't be denied. Our minds are being filled with the thoughts of God on how to go about this. Ideas are in the works and our heart are being changed, challenged, and humbled. To the extend that I don't think I can sit by and do nothing anymore. For I am being MOVED by the heart of God.

But honestly, the whole realm of emotions are warring within me. My heart is broken, inspired. and most assuredly, terrified.

Yet all I can do is lay the feelings at the foot of the One who led by example and became the friend to the people others hated. avoided. rejected. Lord? I'm needing you in this. Pretty desparately.