Rejoice When the Children Come In

Gentle Reader,

We’re halfway through 2019, and so I remind myself that the Holy Spirit directed me to focus on truth this year. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and feel my heart slow within my chest. God is good and pure and wonderful.

As I think on what is true, what God has revealed about Himself and about the world, I make a resolution to stop asking people about children. As in, “Do you have children?” or “Are you going to have another child?” And why not ask? First, it’s intrusive and unneeded; the answer will be revealed organically, one way or the other. Second, the asking can at least cause irritation for the one being asked, and can definitely cause pain if there are issues of infertility or if there has been death in the family. There are times when I want to go through life as the proverbial bull in the china shop, but I’m learning the importance of sensitivity. I don’t want to knowingly cause unnecessary discomfort in others just because I’m feeling nosy.

Desiring to be sensitive means I begin to notice when I am not sensitive myself, and when others choose not to be. Thus my jaw nearly hit the floor after overhearing a conversation, during which someone commented that they don’t approve of anyone pursuing a child from another country, because there are so many American children waiting to be adopted. Why spend thousands of dollars when you can “get a kid for free?”

Up front: Yes, there are a lot of children in the foster care system. I get that. I wish there wasn’t such familial dysfunction in our country that results in so many without stable homes. Almost nothing makes me angrier than children having to suffer because of the selfish, stupid decisions of adults.

I also get that the foster care system is primarily set up for reunification with biological family, not automatic adoption. Sometimes that’s a great thing, and sometimes that’s an awful thing, but either way, it’s nowhere near as simple as, “Find a kid born in the USA! They’ll be yours in no time!”

Further, domestic adoption is not free. Sure, maybe there’s not the initial, up-front fees, but there’s going to be a good chunk of change spent on counseling and other services, because it’s rare for a child in foster care to not have experienced trauma or to not be behind in development, whether academically, physically, or socially. And any parent worth his or her salt is going to be willing to spend that money, to do what’s best for the child. Besides, adoption, done with the right motives, is never focused on saving (or gaining) a buck or two.

The naivety of this comment is not what got me, however. All of us are naive, even outright ignorant, from time to time. That’s fine. We learn, we grow.

What’s not fine: The judgment behind the comment.

Why is it odd or wrong that a couple would sacrifice, would scrimp and save, to bring a child into their home? That they would go to the ends of the earth to find the little one whose picture they cannot erase from their minds, who is meant to be theirs?

Such disdain for those who dare to do something differently than another would do it.

Again, I understand that there are children who are shuffled around and want a family to call their own. I also understand that there are foster parents who have sought to adopt these children, and have been denied by the courts, because one or more biological family members refuse to sign their rights away. Yes, that’s right. It’s not as easy as, “Oh, this child is in foster care, so their bio family is done.”

This comment diminishes the heartache, the suffering, and the waiting, for both adopters and adoptees. This comment assumes that those who adopt internationally never considered the domestic option because they want an “exotic” child. This comment doesn’t take the direction of the Holy Spirit into account.

I know families who have done domestic adoption. I know families who have done international adoption. I know families who have done both. I know families who waited for years for a mother to choose them, only to have the adoption fall through at the last moment. In each case, a whole lot of agonized prayer went into the decision.

Adoption is just as individualized and personal as having a biological child. There are thousands of thoughts and reasons that go into the choice, thoughts and reasons that only the parents and God fully understand. Those on the outside have no business wondering “why” this or “why” that, for they have no way of truly knowing. And, bluntly, they should not offer their opinions on the matter, unless asked, and even then should tread carefully. Additionally, if the outsider has difficulty rejoicing that a child, from anywhere and of any age, has found a loving home, then that outsider should take some time and examine themselves, for why would any adoption be bad?

God never says that one family has to take the same shape as another, and so on and so forth. In fact, this side of the Cross, the emphasis is less on the nuclear family (though by no means is it unimportant) and more on the Church family. We are sisters and brothers and aunties and uncles and cousins and grandparents and extra moms and bonus dads. And God went very far, the farthest anyone could ever go, to adopt each of us.

If you have a passion to be a foster parent, do that. If you feel a burning desire to save up money and bring home a kid from Ethiopia, do that. If you don’t want kids of your own at all, but instead want to pour out your energy and love into the kids around you, do that. There is no law in Scripture to burden or condemn you on this matter (and the commands of God are designed to bring us freedom, anyway), so don’t let the opinions of mere mortals bring you down.

Listen to the Holy Spirit. Heed His voice. Others might think you’re going wrong when you do, but you aren’t. His way is the best way. He has called each of us to love children, and to see them as blessings, but there are so many different ways to do that. Your role is your role. You don’t have to do what everyone else does.

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Five Minute Friday: Question

Gentle Reader,

June in North Idaho is a strange month. Monday the temperature reached into the upper 80s. Today it’s been clouds and rain.

Kate says: question.

Go.

“You want to be a pastor?”

Want might be too strong a word. I identify strongly with the prophets Jeremiah and Ezekiel, neither of whom were initially thrilled to receive the call. In fact, I just finished reading Ezekiel recently, and this verse had me laughing aloud:

The Spirit lifted me up and took me away. I left in bitterness and in an angry spirit, and the LORD’s hand was on me powerfully.

– 3:14 (CSB)

Commentators are split as to whether his anger and bitterness was in response to the sins of his people or in response to being commissioned to do a thankless job. I suspect it was probably a bit of both. When God, in His kindness, confronts us with our sin, we rightly feel a rush of emotion. When God, in His wisdom (and honestly, sometimes with His sense of humor), guides us toward the path He wants us to travel, we wrongly get mad and stubborn.

At least I have.

I don’t like getting up in front of people and talking. A lip sync battle, sure, because that’s funny. A part in a play, fine, because that’s not me; it’s a character. Just myself, Marie, behind a music stand, daring to declare that God has given me something to say…wow. That’s a lot.

But like I said, God has a sense of humor. I think He gets a kick out of using unexpected people in unexpected ways, because it brings Him glory and creates goodness in our lives.

Do I want to be a pastor? Truthfully, I’m not quite there in the wanting department. Still a lot of fear to overcome. The better question is this: Do I have to be a pastor? Yes, I really do. Absolutely no idea what that’s going to wind up looking like. All I know for right now is that I’m meant to keep showing up for our youth and I’m supposed to go to seminary. (Yeah, I just signed away at least four years of my life).

The real question, the one that circles ’round and ’round my mind, the one spoken in the quiet yet authoritative voice of the Holy Spirit: “Will you obey Me?”

Even though I don’t know where this path is going.

Even though it scares me to the point of tears.

Yes. I’ll obey. Not because I’m awesome, but because my God is. Because when I stand up there, longing for nothing more than to run away or to disappear, a greater longing overtakes me. I want these precious and wild young people to know just how deeply they are loved. I want them to understand the glorious Gospel that sets them free. I want them to meet Jesus. I want them to grow in relationship with Him. I want to see them grab hold of transcendent truth, to be enraptured with their Creator – and then to go out and set the world ablaze as they live in grace.

Stop.

Side note: Super weird to have people start referring to me as “Pastor Marie.” Pretty sure I’m not ever going to get used to that.

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Sisters: This Pain in My Side

Along the Way Graphic Template

Gentle Reader,

While He was going, the crowds were nearly crushing Him. A woman suffering from bleeding for twelve years, who had spent all she had on doctors and yet could not be healed by any, approached from behind and touched the end of His robe. Instantly her bleeding stopped.

“Who touched me?” Jesus asked.

When they all denied it, Peter said, “Master, the crowds are hemming You in and pressing against You.”

“Someone did touch Me,” said Jesus. “I know that power has gone out from Me.” When the woman saw that she was discovered, she came trembling and fell down before Him. In the presence of all the people, she declared the reason she had touched Him and how she was instantly healed. “Daughter,” He said to her, “your faith has saved you. Go in peace.”

– Luke 8:42b-48 (CSB)

I wasn’t expecting this to take 13 entries.

But here we are.

I sit in my writing spot – just a corner of the couch, nothing fancy – and occasionally press a hand to my side. My liver’s been acting up. Extra nausea, sharp stabs of pain. I can feel one of the hepatic hemangiomas, a tangled up ball of blood vessels. It’s hanging out just to the left of my ribs. I wince as I push too hard on a bit of scar tissue that was stretched earlier by some abdominal exercises. Strange how that stuff still hurts after so many years of surgery.

My body is ridiculous. I have to laugh about it. I have to shake my head at it.

Who gets liver disease without being an alcoholic or a drug addict? Seriously. Who does that?

Whose cholesterol numbers go up despite eating a non-fatty, plant-based diet?

What woman my age complains of aching joints?

Yes, I look forward to Eternity and a new body. I’d take it right now, in fact. But Jesus, He doesn’t seem to operate on my timetable. He has His own plans. And right now, His plan seems to be that I learn, each day, how to love and trust Him through this pain in my side. That I learn to hold tightly to His hand, despite no guarantee of relief this side of Heaven. That I learn to grit my teeth and to continue on, then, paradoxically, learn to cry and to rest.

Those who suffer have not been rejected by God. He is not angry with us. We are not great sinners in need of punishment. We are just people, like you. People who happen to have bodies that malfunction and break down at a faster rate than yours. Because yes, my friend, the day will come when you can’t do all that you want to do. Hardly do I wish that day on you. I pray that it is a long time in the coming. But it is there, marked on an unseen calendar, part of being the children of Adam and Eve.

Never forget that we who have been saved by Jesus are also His children. So when that day comes, you can walk through it, because He will give you the internal fortitude required. He will empower you. He will teach you how to be resilient.

We who arrived at that place before you did, we’ll be there for you. We’ll hold your hand. We’ll teach you how to navigate the confusing maze of doctor’s offices, pharmacies, and insurance regulations. We’ll share with you the slightly dark and somewhat twisted sense of humor required to cope. We’ll listen as you rage and hold you when you cry.

All we ask is that you do the same for us in return – right now.

Because that’s what family does.

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For all posts in the Sisters series, go here.

Sisters: Daughter

Along the Way Graphic Template

Gentle Reader,

While He was going, the crowds were nearly crushing Him. A woman suffering from bleeding for twelve years, who had spent all she had on doctors and yet could not be healed by any, approached from behind and touched the end of His robe. Instantly her bleeding stopped.

“Who touched me?” Jesus asked.

When they all denied it, Peter said, “Master, the crowds are hemming You in and pressing against You.”

“Someone did touch Me,” said Jesus. “I know that power has gone out from Me.” When the woman saw that she was discovered, she came trembling and fell down before Him. In the presence of all the people, she declared the reason she had touched Him and how she was instantly healed. “Daughter,” He said to her, “your faith has saved you. Go in peace.”

– Luke 8:42b-48 (CSB, emphasis mine)

Allow me to step onto my soapbox.

These words are misused, taken out of context, so often. Well, if you really had faith, you’d be healed. No. No. That’s not what happened. That’s not what Jesus said.

Consider:

On one of those days while He was teaching, Pharisees and teachers of the law were sitting there who had come from every village of Galilee and Judea, and also from Jerusalem. And the Lord’s power to heal was in Him.

Just then some men came, carrying on a stretcher a man who was paralyzed. They tried to bring him in and set him down before Him.Since they could not find a way to bring him in because of the crowd, they went up on the roof and lowered him on the stretcher through the roof tiles into the middle of the crowd before Jesus.

Seeing their faith He said, “Friend, </span><span class=”woj”>your sins are forgiven.”

Then the scribes and the Pharisees began to think to themselves: “Who is this man who speaks blasphemies? Who can forgive sins but God alone?”

But perceiving their thoughts, Jesus replied to them, “Why are you thinking this in your hearts? Which is easier: to say, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Get up and walk’? But so that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins” – He told the paralyzed man, “I tell you: Get up, take your stretcher, and go home.” Immediately he got up before them, picked up what he had been lying on, and went home glorifying God. Then everyone was astounded, and they were giving glory to God. And they were filled with awe and said, “We have seen incredible things today.”

– Luke 5:17-25 (CSB)

The miracle is never just in the physical healing. The point is never just in the restoration of the body. The faith is not just for renewal of joints and muscles.
This woman knew that Jesus was someone different. She knew that He was unlike any physician. Like the other women in Luke’s gospel, named and nameless, she gets it. She recognizes Who Jesus is long before the men do. I say this not to demean men, but rather because Luke is very deliberate in highlighting that it’s the unexpected people who immediately understand both the Person and the message of Jesus. As the only Gentile writer in all of Scripture, Luke knows what it is to be the outcast. His gospel sheds light on the universality of Jesus, how He came to save all who call upon Him in faith.

This woman calls upon Jesus. The words don’t leave her lips, but we see in her actions the desperate plea for salvation.

Jesus [called her forward] so that she would know <i>why</i> she was healed. When Jesus said, “Your faith has made you well” it showed the woman that it really wasn’t touching the clothing of Jesus that healed her. Instead, it was her faith in Jesus and what He could do for her. …

Jesus did it because He wanted to bless her in a special way. He called her “Daughter.” Jesus never called any other person by this name. Jesus wanted her to come forth and hear this special name of tenderness. When Jesus calls us forward, it is because He has something special to give us. Never forget that we who have been saved by Jesus are also His children. So when that day comes, you can walk through it, because He will give you the internal fortitude required. He will empower you. He will teach you how to be resilient.

David Guzik

He called her “daughter.” And she was daughter still when her body did what bodies do and returned to a state of decay.

Those of you who have been reading this blog for awhile are probably tired of reading these words, but I’m going to write them again anyway: We live in a Genesis 3 world. Yes, we are Revelation 21 people, always looking forward to the hope of an eternity of completeness and perfection, in the presence of God. But that looking forward, it’s the “not yet” part of the Kingdom. The “already” part is lived out in a world that spins ever-faster into a state of chaos. We do not escape the chaos. We are not guaranteed trouble-free lives.

In short, there is no room for the health-and-wealth/prosperity not-gospel when we handle Scripture rightly.

If I may, get over it.

Get over the fact that you may never have a bursting bank account, a huge house, or a body that looks and does exactly what you want at all times. Get over expecting God to operate like a magical sky-genie, giving you everything you want, exactly when you want it. Get over abusing the words of the Bible, twisting them to fit your Westernized notions of what blessings are. Get over crushing the abused, the ill, and the marginalized under your smug sense of superiority because they suffer and you do not.

Blunt words, I know, but I say them to myself as much as I do you, because we all struggle with viewing others as less-than.

This woman’s faith in Jesus made her His daughter. That’s what Luke wants us to focus on. The healing is amazing. It’s wonderful. I thank God that she received relief. But the real miracle is her adoption, by grace, into His family.

That’s the real miracle for us, today.

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For all posts in the Sisters series, go here.