Sometimes it helps me to do a little reflecting in the morning, whether on important or trivial things. So today, I have a few questions for you…
Answer one, answer two, or answer them all! Just a few questions to get the mind rolling today…I will give you my answers in the comments section later this morning. Take a few moments, jot down your thoughts, and have a great day!
Dear Boston,
It's hard to find the right words. But we feel your pain, shock and sadness. Deep within us.
In a little less than two weeks, people from all over Oklahoma City and the state of Oklahoma are going to gather to run the Oklahoma City Memorial Marathon. It's a great race, the state's biggest. And while competition and achievement are high on the list for those of us going, there is a higher purpose for the event: To highlight the Oklahoma City National Memorial.
This week, we gave a boy away.
A boy we had raised since he came home from the hospital.
We raised him so his mother could put her life together. So his father could realize the importance of family. And in the process, we learned to fully embrace a child, to love wholeheartedly and without condition, and to nurture him as if he were going to stay forever. Our boys accepted him as our own, love him completely, and babied him without end in their own ways.
At the same time, we encouraged his parents, cheered for their successes, reached out to support them, and prayed for their lives to be positively changed and renewed. They were. His mother worked through her issues, never resented us, worked together with his dad to love him during visits, asked questions to learn how to better be a parent, and went above and beyond all requirements needed to regain custody.
And so this week, we gave away a boy who we love with all our hearts to parents who love him equally as much, and have earned the right to raise their child. I wish I could say that we all live happily ever after with no problems, and that this is an everyday occurrence, but it isn’t. And for that, we are blessed.
So what are we feeling?
1. Tears.
While we rejoice that our foster child has been reunited with his family, there is still a grief process for us. And that is good. It means we poured ourselves into this child, and that he knows he is loved by us. Our boys reacted differently, with Caleb definitely showing more emotion as the older child who comprehends more, and Jack as the inquisitive one wanting to know when his baby will be back. But even in the tears, we see the beauty of a story of hope, of redemption, and of love.
2. Fears.
Everyone hears the horror stories in foster care of what could go wrong if children return home. What if not all the needs are met? Is the schedule going to stay the same? Will he bond with his parents like he should? What if they have questions and are afraid to call? While all these questions can simmer to the top, our faith remains the same. God has provided for this child to this point, will He not continue?
3. Cheers.
There are no words to express how proud we are of the parents of this child. We have seen the growth, care, and love they have shown him and us through this process. When most biological parents would tend to be dismissive or outright hostile toward foster parents, they have been grateful and inquisitive. Sitting in the courtroom as custody was decided was a joyous and wonderful moment for us to be a part of, and I sat there marveling at the beautiful picture of redemption that God had provided us. To think, what started in a dreadful way has a new beginning, a second chance. For that, we celebrate.
If you are a foster parent, don’t give up hope.
If you are the parent fighting for your child, keep working.
Love hard, Believe faithfully, Work diligently, Pray fervently.
Our work is just beginning. And that’s the beauty of it.
Ever been completely at your wit’s end? I mean, as if one more step in the wrong direction, one more crisis or emotional roller coaster and you’re done? That tipping point where you can’t decide whether you would rather everything just be scrapped or you just want something to go right to make you feel okay?
I have. Several times. And though those moments, days, weeks, months, and years represent some of the most difficult times of my life, I realize one very ironic and vital truth about what I experienced and learned from them:
God has never wasted the times I had in the desert.
Let me be very clear. Nothing about those times was fun, and many of the issues and things that happened to and around me were painful and damaging. But as I look back, I can see the strength that was provided to me, the redemption that I couldn’t see then, and the hope now that I couldn’t quite accept while I went through (and still go through) desert times.
So why bring them up? Here are a couple of thoughts if you are walking through the grief of tough times, or simply in one of those valleys that doesn’t seem to end:
My good friend and pastor Francis O’Donnell told me this when I first moved to Missouri, and was walking out of a difficult time where Elizabeth and I needed a ton of healing, and didn’t see much hope in anything. It has stuck with me, because I have seen the validity in it. Those areas that were so tough for us have become areas we now can minister in with other people. Hurt that didn’t seem to want to leave was replaced with purpose God had for us. When we were in the midst of that pain, we didn’t recognize it. Now we do.
I am guilty of the doing the opposite of this. If I have a loss, a hurt, a defeat, or a failure, there is a tendency to dwell on what has gone wrong in desert times rather than grieve what needs to be grieved, and move on. Like a pig happy to wallow in my own mess, I dwell on the many negatives instead of grieving the hurt in a healthy way, allowing myself to be supported, and then moving forward to what God has for me next. Allow those who are wise around you to help you walk through these times.
When we are angry, we like to bottle it up, or go to the other extreme and lash out. But when it comes to God, how many times do we try to be like Adam and Eve and play hide and go seek? He knows our heart, our needs, and our hurts. He knows when we are in the desert place and on the mountaintop. So we should continue to pour out our complaints, our praise, our needs, and our desires to him. Because He cares. Even when we don’t.
And that’s the beauty of the desert. We have a God who mercy is new every morning. Who knows a love without end, who sacrificed all for us, his creation that finds ways to be broken continually, yet loved unconditionally. Remember this, as you walk though the desert.
And if the desert reminds of us this, it’s why we need it so much.
As I sat and typed this blog (which takes a while one-handed) because my shoulder has made my sleep methods go on strike, I’ve had some time to reflect, read, and see literally hundreds of posts throughout the week on Facebook, Twitter, and numerous blogs on both sides of the marriage equality issue. Most have been recommended by good friends, colleagues, college classmates, theologians, and other random people that pass through my day. They have varied greatly, been written passionately and fervently for each side, and I have no doubt that each writer believed strongly in their “side” of the cause.
I’m not going to do that in this post. If this disappoints you, I apologize…because as I read everything surrounding not just the Supreme Court issues, but reflecting on the Holy Week that we have entered, a few truths were brought to my mind. As we continue through this week to the celebration of Easter, I hope they challenge, convict, and change you as well.
There is not a bigger hypocrite in the world than me. I mean, if you are liberal, I have probably thought horrible things about you. Forgive me. If you are conservative, I have probably called you fundamentalist. Forgive me. If you aren’t either and are in the middle, I have probably seen you as wishy-washy. Forgive me. You see, I have a battle inside of me I can’t win: an ugly pride that won’t go away unless I lay it down for someone much bigger than me to pick up. Holy week reminds me despite that brokenness, I have a Savior who has reconciled that sin, and though I am a mess, I am forgiven.
Pride is such a funny thing. It tells us we’re right, even when we aren’t. So we have to humble ourselves, and listen when that “still, small voice” taps us on the shoulder and reminds us we aren’t walking His path, but ours. As we engage with each other in important issues that we feel strongly about, we also must remember to keep perspective of where our pride feeds into our beliefs.
I’m not being cliche. The truth is, without Jesus dying on a cross, being buried, and rising on the third day, I have nothing to celebrate, other than temporal fancies, liberties, and pursuits that ends when my flesh does. With Christ’s sacrifice and resurrection, I have the eternal hope of salvation, redemption, and sanctification to believe, change, and shape who I am.
So wherever you have landed in the debates of the numerous issues that are around us, may our eyes continue to be fixed on the One who is of upmost importance as we engage these issues. May our words with each other, whether in agreement or disagreement, be of edification to the Body, and may we challenge each other to reflect God’s leading and not our own.
Discipleship.
Our staff has been talking about what this word means, looks like, and should be in our personal and ministry lives this week. So I want to ask you to take a minute and respond to three questions for me so I can see what you think…
Thanks so much for participating in this, and I look forward to hearing from you!
When you read this on Monday, I will be in process of having surgery on my left labrum (shoulder), and will have the joy of having my arm sticking straight out (like a handshake) in a sling for six weeks. As a church staff, we have been joking about our youth pastor (knee surgery) and I being the weaklings who have bodies breaking down, which has been fun, and definitely brought some humor to two situations that are not the most fun for either of us. For that, I am most grateful. As a musician, I am not looking forward to six weeks (and more) of not being able to play the instruments I love to create music with. Likewise, as a father with two active boys, I don’t look forward to not being able to wrestle and be as active with them as well.
However, when I look at this recovery, I can choose to go two ways: Be angry for the limitations that hamper me, or be thankful that God will use this time to grow my walk with Him and my usefulness to His Kingdom. So I am looking at six things I can learn while I am in “the sling”:
1. Be intentional about spending time with God.
I am going to have some “down” time I’ve been told (yuk, yuk). What better way to become the man, husband, friend, and minister God wants me to be than to spend intentional time refreshing with Him as I rest and recuperate.
2. Appreciate the incredible person my wife is.
Elizabeth’s life is going to change, and I will have a great chance to be an intentional encourager, lover, friend, and supporter of her as she has to adjust as well.
3. Learn to trust the teams that have been developed.
I am blessed to have wonderful teams that will do a great job of leading and shouldering responsibilities where I am limited. It will be cool to see more leaders develop as I take a backseat.
4. Thinking outside the box creatively.
It is easy for me to get in a rut. Sit down at the piano, play guitar, pick up a banjo…can’t do that. Creativity will have to be outside of my comfort zone. This is a great growth area.
5. Work on organizational skills and structures.
Those of you who know me well are probably laughing out loud. In some things, I can’t administrate my way out of a paper box. This will be a great time for me to work on prioritizing, structuring, and catching up on needed organization.
6. Find ways to be thankful for the gifts I have been given.
Sometimes we don’t realize what we have until we don’t have it anymore, or can’t use our gifts as much. While I realize God has gifted me musically, it will interesting to see how much I have taken for granted that I shouldn’t have.
