Open Letter to Target

The I've watched all the social media frenzy posts about Target. I've heard most opinions that didn't quite fit how I was feeling about their decision to allow people who self-identify as a different sex to use the bathroom of their choice. I didn't think I would respond at all; I didn't want to add to the noise.

But I did wrestle with decision. I heard many opinions. The loudest being equality for all vs. beliefs being violated. Somehow it turned into us vs. them, with some Christians stating we just have to love everybody? This argument seemed to be missing the mark (pun intended). 

And it hit me this morning what my own decision would be. So here is my open letter to Target, a store I loved so much.

Dear Target Higher Management,

I would like you to look around the world and dig deep. Research culturally, historically on women throughout time. I wish for you to pay special attention to how they are treated by society, by men. It's a violent history. But violence toward women is not something of the past; it's not a blight of yesteryear's less civilized societies. Even today it is celebrated and taught in our own culture. Fifty Shades of Gray is just one small example of this and it is sold in your stores--stores that now have an open door policy for anyone to use any bathroom they choose. You are not fully to blame, you are having to make a decision on how to handle a problem our culture has created; we don't know who we are. But for the appeasement of confusion you've thrown logic and reason aside and made a policy that paints a target on the backs of women. You are wrong in thinking consumerism will keep me coming. Because in a world where violence toward women is normalized, you don't create policies that put them even more at risk. Your stance to make everyone to feel equal has made me feel less-than, a common theme of womanhood. I do not feel safe bringing my daughters into a restroom where a man could walk in unquestioned. I take our safety very seriously. I cannot support a company that does not. I know your policy wasn't to invite child molesters and rapests into the women's restroom, but it opens the door for such people to take advantage of this situation. Despite what you might think, we don't live in an utopian society where everybody does the right thing. 

To the Church: Where Was Jesus?

Paris. Syria. Beirut. Just a few places in our headlines as of late. Warnings went unheeded, prior pleas have gone unheard and we have the aftermath of what to do next.

And shockingly the crossfire now is between American Christian brothers and sisters. It pains my heart. We have to think of Jesus: where would He be right now in all this?

You know political termoil surrounded Jesus' time. When He arrived on scene his people were begging for another deliverer from their mistreatment, their hardship, their long-suffering. 

Some have taken up blasting the presidency and have made "I told you so" their battle cry. All the dirt gets drudged up on the failings and misdeeds of a man who doesn't know God. 

The politically minded zealots who wanted to make Jesus their speaker of the house missed it. They didn't know this was not the place of a Savior. We are Peter taking up arms. We need to put our swords down.

Some have taken up fighting Islam and it's many evils, revealing countless past atrocities. Stuck in reverse. Jesus was battling an ideology of his time and it was the religious hypocrites who pointed fingers and wanted to cast stones and judgement and consequence on everyone around them. They didn't get it--a Savior gets His hands dirty; He gets down in the muck to lift us up. They didn't know that religious preferences are no match for a loving relationship with the God of the universe. 

And issues have a tendency to bleed. Helping refugees would be helping the cause of Islam. It would be wasting our precious resources on people who are not our own. Doesn't that sound familiar of a Savior? We have our own issues--any issues--as long as it's not a refugee issue...said the American...who was once a refugee...days from Thanksgiving. We forget Jesus was also a refugee. Even now according to Matthew 25--He is the one naked, hungry, thirsty, lonely and imprisoned. We are not rejecting refugees, we are rejecting the Lord.

Our eyes are fixated on keeping what we've got with no regard to Who gave it or why. We have many lost sheep without a shepherd wanting to flock to our shores. They lived in countries that were closed to the Gospel and are facing toward this land of religious freedom. We have no idea what opportunities we have as a truth-filled set-free people. And America--"land of the free, home of the brave"--says "No, not here. Not us." The Lord of the Harvest is giving the nations to us and we spit on the silver platter He offers. Our harvest will be given to another more willing. And the gift of revival granted to a more generous nation than the Land of Opportunity. 

Lord forgive us, we know not what we do.

Wide Awake Wonder

Today was our first day visit with L. She got to see our ups and downs. She got to see my credit card not work at a restaurant because it's old, but I wonder if she had similar situations before where a card was declined because no money was in the account. I wonder if she had old memories rise up in that moment.

I wonder how she thought I handled the news that my new card was never ordered, that we had to make a long detour to the bank for funds, that I forgot I never opened a bank account for my youngest son when trying to deposit his birthday money. 

I wonder what she thought of my awful case of lyrangitis that made my voice sound harsh and scratchy and also made it hard for me to sing at worship practice. We were an hour late.

I wonder what she thought of our little home. 

Of our loud kids.

Of our weird movie.

I wonder if she felt comfortable and welcome. I wonder if the shawl wrapped around her was because she was cold or because she wanted to feel protected.

But we got her that shawl. The clothes she was wearing, the purse she had were my hand-me-downs. 

I wonder what she though when we took her to pick out an ornament and let her get two in the end, her own choices. It was National Adoption Day (I found this out today). How amazing is it that these gifts were given then.

I wonder if she had a Christmas tree before. I wonder what those holidays looked like. I wonder if I should ask or not.

I wonder what she thought seeing Martin wrestle with the boys. I wonder if her home before us was filled with laughter that sprang from joy. 

I wondered why she was so quiet and timid except when you asked her a question, was it anxiety or personality? Should I give her space or sit real close? I wonder if she noticed I was probably as nervous as she was.

I wonder what she thought of all the pictures. I wonder if she was trying to search the years for common denominators between us.

I wondered if my hope prayer I let her read touched any chords in her heart, if any of it was too much too soon. But she read it all. Twice. 

I wondered if she made a God connection, seeing Him at work before we ever met because this prayer was not originally written for her. Because she gave me a wreath this week with that same word "hope" on it which has driven my prayer life these past 4 months. Because before I knew her, God knew her.

I let her read it centered on the wreath on the wall like that. I wonder if she saw the hand of the Lord there.

I wonder if she was quiet on the way back because she was tired or because she was sad to go. I wonder if she was overwhelmed at it all or if she was just taking it all in. 

I wonder what she'll say about her visit. I wonder if she is feeling more at rest. I wonder if she feels home yet.

Living This Out

So much can be said about living the Christian walk. But when it comes down to actually living it, what does that look like? How is that done?

I've pondered it way too much instead of actually letting go. I wrestled with thoughts about if it's my choice to choose to say yes to God, but how can I choose anything at all that's godly if I'm wholly wretched and bent on my own way? 

The answer is He's drawn me to Himself. He's placed His Holy Spirit in me full of holy desires and a want to please God instead of myself. The answer is Him.

So when it I'm living life I have choices to make each moment: life or death, His ways or my ways, right or wrong, Spirit or flesh. I have to choose whether or not I'm going to walk in the Spirit; do I want to act on what He desires or what I desire?

It's easy to tell the difference. I can always notice when I'm walking in my flesh. I stomp on the fruits of the Spirit. I lose self control and become reactive to my environment; I adapt and give way to the temperature or pleasures of the moment. I become anxious and self-focused, insecure and possessive. I want to blend in, fit in. I care too much about my own stuff and time. God is an afterthought and conviction is negotiable. My thoughts become fast paced and crowded, bombarded with everything I don't want and I feel buried under the onslaught. I want my own way. I want to win petty fights and create tension and argue over non-issues. I want others who aren't living in turmoil to join me. Anyone steadfast is seen as a threat; there must be something wrong with them. I turn to judgement as a defense tactic. I'm fighting a battle for the wrong side and I'm full of guilt, shame, and regret. I'm jealous and want credit. I want approval. I'm mean and full of excuses. I'm miserable and depressed. I'm distant and feel hopeless, useless. I feel overwhelmed by my sins and the consequences. 

When I'm walking in the Spirit, I'm hungry for His word, to meet Him in worship, to pray and to include others also. I'm slow to become angry. I search out divine opportunities and I'm quick to listen, to wait on the Holy Spirit's guidance. I don't care about looking weird--in fact I desire that so people will pay attention, to see Jesus. I am peace-filled and joyful--nothing shakes me. Chaos only reminds me of the Strong God I serve and the peace I feel in the midst of it. I desire to sneak away with God and be with Him. My eyes are fully open. I have revelation and insight. I am wise with my children because I heed the direction of the Lord. I'm humble and agreeable, letting others go first. I'm patient and understanding. I'm quick to pray. I'm eager to serve in lowly ways and love flows instead of being forced. I'm kind and generous. I'm thoughtful. I'm confident In Christ's work done on my behalf, that it's truly enough to cover me, and I'm loved beyond comprehension and it's evident. I don't regret walking in the Spirit ever, because I  can see clearly. 

How do I chose one over another consciously? 

Approaching the throne of grace, asking for the Lord to draw me into His presence and to renew my mind. Ask the Lord to change my desires and give me a heart of flesh instead of stone, softened and beating with His own lifeblood, clothed in His Son. Wash me and I will be clean. Say the word and I will be new. Put your hand upon me and strengthen my resolve to know you more and make you known, not in my own strength and capacity but in the power of your Holy Spirit. Continue to strip away the layers of dead religion and earning your salvation. Make me like you, make me Holy.

Farm Ponderings

I'm standing on a farm holding her hand and her arm, as she holds me; she has my heart. And over there walking up the path, he holds it too. And that one--the one who might be a little difficult and a lotta fun--and another who offers constant smiles and another who about knocks you over with her loudest greeting: they all hold a piece, a growing piece like the seeds they once planted at one time here in this God-blessed patch of earth they call the farm. Seeds that now produce bumper crops and bushel fulls, that fill baskets and sell-out in our quaint store. May we sell out, all those pieces of our heart--the seed swells, the good fruit. May our efforts multiply, our increase fill the mouths and bellies of others hungry for Heaven's fresh picks, it's choicest gifts. Here we are in sun-kissed fields sharing Son-kissed moments that brim with joy. His laughter is heard in the strong laughter of His friends. We breathe deep in this Holy ground, knowing He who goes before us continues to plow the fields prepping for more harvest. He is making a way in the earth for His children to sow for His glory.

The Quiet Side: A Battlefront

Behind all the posts about celebrating a child with special needs, behind the cute pictures of smiles and words of inspiration is the quiet side of me where I endure in the dark. 

It's lonely here, but I'm independent and don't know how or when to ask for help. My pride stands in the way and tells me if I say "when," if I admit a struggle too big to bear alone, then I admit weakness and defeat. Pride tells me it will be complaining and that's ungratefulness; it's not godly or encouraging or pastor-like.

But is it when I snap? When I "lose-it" over spilled milk because it's been done deliberately out of frustration from my child who cannot speak? I cannot speak. I'm just as handicapped.

I shove it down and try to contain boiling water with naked hands, raw from the wringing. If anyone knew this struggle...

Not for pity's sake--pity doesn't help, it doesn't offer babysitting or call me for a break--I'm still waiting by the phone. Pity says "poor you, not me." I don't need pity. I need a real date night with my husband without the guilt or worry of leaving him with someone. I need to celebrate our 10th anniversary 2 years later with more than just dinner and a movie. 

I don't need words to tell me I'm great or the best or blessed. I need listeners without advice or judgment. It's hard to raise a child with special needs.

My son cannot form words so he acts out a lot of his communication, which can be loud and look like spoiled tantrums but I can imagine being frustrated when you can't speak your mind. The worst part is the scream--the jarring, high-pitched, give-me-your-attention-I'm-angry scream that breaks through any ounce of calm and tranquility near and far. I ignore the onlookers but it magnifies stress levels when you're wondering what they all must be thinking.  My reactionary self wants to scream back at times. I fight the nonsense of fight or flight and pick him up to soothe him instead. That must look like coddling to some. But they don't know this fight, these methods. They don't know my son.

He runs on a whim so I'm on high alert 100% when we are away from home--do you know what that's like, when family gatherings are a tense roulette of "where's Marty?" I'm constantly watching exits and counting heads and checking rooms. I don't socialize much at events, sit down for a long cup of coffee. I can't even make it to some events because we come up short figuring out loss prevention strategies or we've calculated the risks being too high in our minds. If only we had extra people sign up for Marty Duty.

My son has no friends. I'm not sure he wants friends or knows that it is good to have and to be a friend. No one asks him over for play dates. Maybe I should intentionally arrange those, like a package deal. My mom was smart, she always said about me and my sister: "One cannot go without the other." My sister is my best friend now. 

He gets red and yellows almost everyday at school because his aides don't get him. I know he's smart, just misunderstood. It takes time and energy to work with someone who doesn't speak your language. My biggest fear is that they'll suggest a lower functioning classroom and the walls will close in on me and I'll have a panic attack where I blackout. And then I'll gain my footings with steel hearted determination for inclusion. Because. It. Matters.

I worry about bullies because he can't even tell me about them. I see him picked as the villain all the time to run from when typical kids want to "play" with him. I step in and redirect and educate preschoolers who think it's just a game but I'm trying to unwind ancient evils that says "enemies are anyone different than you." And all the while stifling the twinge of pain that arises when you are trying to remove those sticky labels from your child.

He can obsess over small things and have a meltdown if not given the proper amount of time to transition. DVD loops are his favorite. But if given time and a warning that he's done he usually--usually--shuts it off...and then asks for the iPad. Or my iPhone. I've grown to really hate technology. It causes such a struggle to keep him in the real world with real social interactions. 

It's hard to share these burdens, but bearing them by myself doesn't work and getting weighed down by the load isn't fun. This place can suck at times and it's not all rainbows and unicorns. Advocacy and awareness need to happen for the parent as well as the child--we need your help. I've already mentioned some ways.

And don't take no for an answer. We are fiercely independent and are so busy taking on the battles of the world for our kid we forget about self care and community. We probably have hero complexes and think we are superhuman after a diagnosis, but grief comes in ages and stages; this is something we will never shake. And going it alone is like trying to breathe mud--suffocating. 

To the Boy Who Pointed and Laughed at My Son

I knew this day would come eventually. The sensitive mom inside me wanted to break a little. Instead I just shook my head and gave you that mom look which told you "Enough."

I don't know what you meant by calling my son a "zombie baby", pointing at him, repeating it over and over to your two friends. They didn't laugh at your "joke" and neither did I. You kept making eye contact with me and I wouldn't break your gaze. I wanted you to know that I heard you. I saw you. I wanted to make sure that you saw me; my son was not alone sitting there while you made fun of him. 

My son liked your costume. He liked the whole parade of kids in costumes getting candy at his stop. You didn't get a chance to see him in his Buzz Lightyear costume. He handed out candy with professional precision at a rate any of his occupational therapists over the years would've been proud of. He trick-or-treated in the same line of kids you were in just minutes before you showed up. Now he was tired and wanted to watch all the people passing by...including you.

I just wanted you to know he most definitely was not phased by your teasing. In fact he'd probably invite you to sit with him, have some M&M's, enjoy some laughs. I tend to follow his lead with people, and he smiled at you. 

I didn't scold you outright in front of your friends because I could've easily been you at your age, trying to make people laugh at the expense of others. But I took up the invitation to join him and see things from his perspective. I've learned to enjoy the show. It's the best seat in the house.

Sadly and yet thankfully you are the only one who has ever done that to him in the 6 amazing years of his life. Of the thousands of people going by who smiled and waved and gave him high-fives today, you were the only one bold (and unwise) enough to tease him to his face--with his mama close by. It took a lot in me not tear you out of that line. I owe that restraint to Marty and Jesus.

You see my son has a fan club. I've lost count of its members because they join everyday. I shook my head at you because you don't get it. You're missing out.

I hope your friends didn't understand your joke altogether which is why they just stood there silent beside you. Maybe they stayed still because they saw his defender while you didn't. They were smart not to join in but maybe they could stop you the next time you decide to take cheap shots at a kids who are different than you. 

I hope you get second chances to be a better friend than you were today. I hope you get to enjoy life with people of all abilities instead. And take the lead of your friends. If you can't say something nice (especially in front of their mother) don't say anything at all. 

Anyway, there is plenty of room in his fan club for new members. It's free to join and we have good candy. You and your friends are welcome.

Beautiful Yes

On a whim sitting at Panera eating the leftover muffin scraps my youngest didn't eat, I texted a friend. That friend runs House of Providence. In moments my daughter and I were gathering our things and leaving the suburb for a 30 minute drive to Detroit. 

It had taken a lifetime, and a closet space breathing in the closeness of God, and this and that and dreams--and so many dreams, dreams I didn't know the meanings of until now. It had taken so many moments and prayers and text messages and weeks and months and phone calls and crying out to God to lead to this moment, a moment I didn't even know was coming, that wasn't even on my radar. You have plans for your life and God has plans for your life--and I'm telling you we cannot even begin to fathom the awesome and incredible things He has in store.

"Do you want me to bring her down so you can meet her?"

I was nervous but so excited as I sat in a small room with my little girl waiting to meet her, to see what she looked like, to see if what I had pictured was anything like her. My "yes" to God was on the table, even if my knees were on the floor. He can do so much with just a simple "yes." I have a front row seat of watching it unfold in faithful rows before my eyes.

Then there she was. So precious and sweet and 17 and vulnerable and shy, shy because of her trauma. She smiled and reached out for my daughter as she sat down as one reaches for a pillow to cling to on a couch. Adele colored with her. This teenager drew a heart with an arrow through it--probably something she drew all the time. I'm not overanylizing when I say that real arrows have pierced her own heart.

I'd ask her questions, she'd smile and look up with an answer, I'd get to see her face light up then then quickly fade as she looked away; she'd go blank. I asked a lot of surface "what's your favorite" questions. Not sure how the meeting was going judging her reactions and the nervous bouncing of her knees, I asked if she had any questions for me. She blurted out a question she had been longing to ask: "Did she talk to you about the possibility of maybe doing...home visits?" 

My heart could've soared at that moment. Trying to stifle a giant smile and a loud and crazy "YES!!!" I answered it was absolutely a possibility once all the paperwork and things were in order.

We said our goodbyes and she went back to school. I cried with my friend who I told more and more details to this scarlet thread, this teen now being woven into a redemption story fashioned by the Lord. 

I didn't know what exactly it meant to say that the Lord was beautiful--and now I know. He puts orphans in families and gives those families new trust and understanding of His great love. What could be more beautiful than this?

I saw a journal online with Jeremiah 29:11 etched on the front. It was in her favorite color. I went to the bookstore and snatched up the only one they had. I found a card and some other gifts--a cross bracelet that was her favorite color, some nail polish and a coffee drink. I was feeling silly putting together a gift to give to her so soon, but I needed to. I felt silly all day about it but I wanted to do this. I thought it might be too much too soon--but I had to!

I heard her voice bubbling with hope on the phone today as she thanked me for the gift. She told me about her day in full sentences, and her weekend. We plan on playing guitar the next time I come to the house. She loves music. It's like she was meant for our family. The Lord knew she was ours before we did, before she did. And she fits. 

I reassured her about home visits to ease some of the worry she had that they may not happen. I encouraged her to be patient and hopeful in the meantime. We said our goodbyes and hung up the phone. 

Today I later found out is National Daughter's Day. The gift I gave was not premature, it was right on time. It wasn't silly, it was providence. She ages out of the foster care system in May--9 months from September. I'll carry this daughter for those months in my heart, making ready a place for her in our home. This is the beautiful yes of God.

Here we go!

A Big Ugly Statue

Have you seen the Satanic Temple's goat statue? Next to the goat-headed figure are two children, a boy and a girl, looking up at the beast lovingly. It's not only blasphemous, it's hideous. 

I've seen pictures of Hindu gods, African spirit masks, totems and talismans that are equally frightening and demonic looking. 

Those to us are blatant, obviously evil (like the goat-headed, man-made stonework I first mentioned). We picture the devil also that way: obvious, ugly, monsterous. That is his true nature but the Bible says he parades like an "angel of light"; it describes him as one of the most beautiful in God's creation. Beautiful and full of death and destruction.

I say all this to remind us that the devil is not always obvious. Not all idols are ugly. We may look at the cringe-worthy ones and think "There's no way I'm worshipping that thing. You'd have to be a fool to bow down to something like that." 

What about idols that look good, that make us feel good? I'm talking about the things in our lives that aren't made of stone that don't have big scary facades. What takes up all our time and energy and resources? What do we spend the most time thinking about, working towards, living for? What do we obsess over? Is it a thing? A sport? Another person? Is it ourselves? 

An idol is anything we put before God--before his opinion, before his commands, before His Word. And it probably won't be as obvious as a big ugly statue. 

Our Weakness, God's Glory

Before I started working with people with disabilities, I was nervous around them. Sounds and behavior I wasn't used to made me want to stand back and keep my distance. I didn't know what to do with myself. Appearances alone would sometimes lock me up mentally--how could I possibly help someone who appeared so complicated to me? 

I was pondering this the other day, and God whispered "Is it no different from anyone else?" He's right. We're all complicated. And yet He loves, not just from a distance, but right down in the depths of us.

You see the beauty about people with special needs is that they don't just wear their heart on their sleeve, they wear everything else there too. For most they don't know how to hide their disability, because in their mind they are no different than the typically developing world.

Who taught us to hide ourselves? Think back to the Garden, it certainly wasn't our Heavenly Father. 

I can see it before they even ask for help, even if they never ask for help. Needs are right out there in the open. God gives me a small glimpse of how He sees me. My own needs are right there out in the open to Him; I'm wearing everything on my sleeve not hidden by facade and restraint whether I realize it or not. And He is present to assist me. The things I try to hide from the world, my own handicaps and struggles, He knows full well (Psalm 139). He sees my greatest need, my biggest obstacle and loves me enough to bend low and take my hand, look into my eyes and smile. "We got this."

His teaching moments are fun and gentle, hilarious, encouraging and uplifting, even stern and direct at times. He knows we're just dust.

Don't I want the same reassurances from my Heavenly Father they ask of me? "Look at me!" "Am I doing this right?" "Did I do a good job?" 

I can hear my own excuses in theirs also: "I can't do this." "I'm too tired." "I don't know how." Thankfully we have a great Teacher who knows our delays, our triggers, our behavior patterns. He knows us.

If you don't have someone with special needs in your life, you're missing out on some of the greatest friendships you'll ever have. They love with fierce loyalty, even if they can't tell you with words. They are God's best and first and it's an honor to be friends with His buddies. He has a prophetic anointing on people with special needs, they are always speaking to His glory. All that they are, anything they overcome, anytime they are loved and show love, it's Heaven fresh. I've said it before, they are the purest echo of God in the earth. 

Some people think it's backwards to say any of this; it doesn't make sense to a scholar how anyone with any kind of physical or mental limitation could possibly bring God glory, or bring anything else to the world for that matter. And in that logic there is revealed the pride that keeps them from giving God glory themselves. Because we're all limited, everyone of us. It's just more apparent to the eye of some more than others. 

We can take heart though. In our weakness--any of ours--He is strong!

"Who are we?"

David and Bathsheba. We all know the story. He broke and repented before the Lord. But sin had entered David's house. Years later David's son would rape his half-sister. When another brother stood up to defend her, asking his father to take a stand against his wayward son, David refused. More bloodshed would enter his house. David's kingdom divided and collapsed. And as Jesus said many, many years later "a house divided cannot stand."

We are that house divided. We look at the immorality exploding in our land and we are overwhelmed. We can't take a stand against every one of the evils that threaten our house so we choose not to stand against any of them. We know we ourselves are sinners, maybe still actively living in sin. "Who are we to judge? Who are we to say anything when this sin is no different in God's eyes than that sin or that sin?" Our house is about to fall.

Jesus said to take the plank out of your own eye so that you can help remove the plank in your brother's eye. We are all walking around with painful, festering logs in our eyes thinking this is somehow a better way to reach the world ("I'm ok, you're ok") when it is killing us. 

Jesus asked what good is salt if it loses its saltiness? Salt isn't just for flavor, it's for preserving, for cleansing. Salt in an open wound is painful, but it's necessary for healing to take place. 

God in His wisdom knows we won't take a stand against sin if we are dealing with our own sin--the guilt of past ones, the reality of ones still strongholding in our hearts. We can't fix this with fig leaves. Jesus already provided us with a way to be holy as He is holy. 

That is who we are. "Who are we to--" WE'RE FORGIVEN, MADE NEW, BLOOD BOUGHT AND TRANSFORMED BY THE LOVE OF THE SON WHO ALONE WAS WORTHY TO TAKE ON ALL OUR SIN.  We are His ambassadors, a people made holy and washed white with His own righteousness. We have a voice to speak into people's lives because we've been redeemed, once in offense to God and His holiness now made right with Him, empowered with authority to take His message of love and hope to this dying world. God help us to bring our sin boldly to you to rectify. Help us despise our own sin, not to treat it with care or affection. Help us to run to you with hidden sins that are cancer to our souls. Help us understand that it is a loving Father who longs to deal with sin in our lives. Help us to see who we are now that we are in Christ so that we can speak without shame about You and Your grace.

Seeing Rainbows

Dear Christian brother or sister, can I ask you if you've cringed at the sight of a rainbow lately? Cringing wasn't what God has in mind when He made it, you know. I'm sure you've seen the "skittle wars" on social media. Perhaps you wished you could just take a giant sponge to that Facebook wall of yours and wash it all down?

Can I lovingly impore you to pause for a moment in your angst, in your anxiety-filled heart and take a deep breath?

(Breathe.)

Lean in close now. 

Do you think that God in all His sovereignty doesn't still see His promise? Yes it's being used to promote something else. But God's ways are so much higher than ours.

When God placed His rainbow in the sky, it was a promise to mankind that reflected Himself. A promise that was full of mercy, full of slow-to-anger, full of life. Do you think this promise has been removed somehow? It's still day--are there not rainbows that continue to fill His sky? 

Can I ask you to do something? Instead of getting soap-boxy about God's symbol, instead of getting high and mighty and taking up a case for God about His rainbow He made, humble yourself. And pray.

Did you not also need His mercy, His undeserved grace to fill your dark skies with His promise? 

When you see a rainbow banner, flag, tee, bumper sticker--or anything else that's being marketed in that manner, don't get spatty about it. Throwing around cliches that rallies the camps to arms is not what the rainbow was meant to invoke. Instead of passing judgement through anger-filled flippant comments--see the mercy promise, remember what it means, what it meant for you when you came to Christ. Above all, remember Who sent it and why. That gift of grace is still extended to all until the day Jesus comes. Right now it just so happens to be painted in bright fashion on those God longs to heal. How great in His wisdom to remind us that they are also marked for His grace--and it's still day. 

Humble yourself, and pray. 

Come As You Are...

Imagine your best friend calls you up and asks you to come to a black-tie-only event she is hosting and it's free of charge to all her friends, including you...tonight! "You mean tonight-tonight? As in now?" 

You probably don't just have a ball-gown laying around the house. But you can't pass up free tickets to an event like this--especially with a personal invite from your best friend! She chimes in as a zillion frenzied questions zing left and right in your brain:

"Don't worry, I have the most beautiful dress you can wear! Just come! It will be waiting for you at the door." That best friend of yours! Always so thoughtful! Of course you'll go, how can you say no? "See you soon!" she says excitingly and hangs up the phone. You can hardly contain yourself. There's no time to waste! You jump in your car and begin making your way to the event. It's going to be incredible! One million selfies are going to blow up your Instagram feed. All your other friends are going to want an invite to this party! Music, dancing, great food, and your best friend all in one exquisite place--and it's free! Wow! 

As you zoom along you shift around in the driver's seat. Your favorite yoga pants, the black ones with the tear in the knee that you've been pining for all day are keeping you cozy. You start to wonder, Do I really want to trounce around in an evening gown all night? Before your friend called you up, you had already put on your lounging clothes. The warmth and comfort of those clothes now practically beg you to keep them on. A dress and heels is beginning to sound less and less appealing as you make your way to the event. A dress with ribbing and a zipper up the back? Meh. You shift around some more at the thought of it just as you enter stop and go traffic. What if you don't even like the dress? What if it doesn't fit right? What if it's orange--how could you possibly live that down? Fear grips you now as you grip the wheel. What have you gotten yourself into? 

You're already wearing clothes that fit well and look cute with a messy bun. You're going to be so uncomfortable in about fifteen minutes. Your I'm-staying-in-for-the-night-watching-Netflix-and-eating-ice-cream attire weighs heavier and heavier on your positive attitude and outlook on tonight. Maybe you should just skip this altogether. It's such short notice anyway. She'd understand. 

Except...it's free--an amazing probably once-in-a-lifetime event and your very best friend invited you. The struggle is real. You wrestle inside contemplating calling it a day and turning around versus pressing on and enjoying yourself at what will probably be the most to die for event of the year.

Suddenly a thought pops in your head: A compromise can be made. Perhaps instead of swapping your cozy clothes for that restrictive (and possibly orange) dress, you could just keep on the clothes you are wearing right now. After all, you've had a hard day, you've been looking forward to taking it easy tonight and you deserve to relax after the week you've had. Besides, it's your bestie who's hosting this thing. She knows you, she knows what kind of job you have and  she can relate! She knows you worked hard all week and that you've never really liked dressing up anyway. She'll understand. She's chill and you guys are tight. She gets you. You don't have to put on a show for her. That's not who she is. She'll probably say it's more important that I just showed up anyway. 

Arriving at the venue, you opt for valet at their red carpeted entrance. After all, you know the host better than anyone. You waltz down the catwalk of paparazzi outside and blow past security objecting about the way you are dressed. You simply laugh it off because your best friend is the host; she's inside waiting for you. These nobodies to you keep insisting that you must put on the gown your friend left, but you just smile and wave as you push through the doors. You have the highest connection at this event and you belong here.

Once inside you start making rounds introducing yourself to new people and greeting familiar faces. Name dropping that awesome best friend of yours who just so happened to have a free ticket for you tonight is a sure way to make new friends and keep old ones! You drool over at the desert table and stuff your face with all sorts of appetizers before taking pictures with your best friend's family. They are all dressed to the Nine's! It's a shame that they were not able to dodge the whole black-tie thing though and wore whatever they wanted to. They must not feel as connected as you do. You always knew you were closer to her than the people she called family. Those suits look so stiff and stuffy. You're so glad you can come as you are with your best friend. You can truly be yourself around her without all the fuss. Black-tie doesn't apply to real friends.

After meeting everyone in the place you continue searching the room to find her, that most generous best friend of yours you've been telling everyone about. Finally you see her across the room. You barely recognize her in that dazzling and sparkling dress she has on! Was your dress anything like hers?... She's gorgeous tonight. You can't wait to tell her how great she looks. You begin to wave frantically and excitedly, calling her name and shouting what a great party this is! She hears your voice and begins to smile looking around for you. When she finally locks eyes with you the joy in her eyes begins to fade. She doesn't return your enthusiasm. She slowly and quietly walks across the room to you. Her face begins to form a pained expression and you think you see tears threatening to smear that flawless application of mascara she's wearing. She seems upset about something but you can't imagine what. 

She stops in front of you and gains her composure but still seems confused and hurt by something. Then she asks you where the dress she left for you is. Apparently you're the one who's caused her this grief. Your oversized Tee and yoga pants outfit is apparently not as easily overlooked by your friendship as you had imagined, but there's more to it than that: "The dress I set aside for you tonight was perfect. It was special because it was made for you. I chose it myself, I paid for it myself. Why aren't you wearing it? How could you ignore a gift from me like that? I thought we were best friends. There are people here I barely know who followed my instructions for black-tie only attire. Don't you know this is a very formal event and you needed to have an evening dress on to be in here with me? We can't let you stay, or anyone else, if they are not dressed appropriately as you are now." She takes a deep breath that is holding back her grief. "We must ask you to leave now."

Well this is outrageous! Why can't I just be who I am? "I thought we were friends?"! I'm your best friend! If anyone deserves to be here it's me! Half these people don't even know you like I do! How could you do this to me?! Your mind and heart race with emotion but you have no words. You're enraged by her tone with you. Her disappointment when she first saw you was enough but her audacity to ask you to leave because of something so insignificant as a dress? Your friendship should surely mean more than a dress! Un-real. She should just be happy you showed up to begin with. You didn't have to come to this. You didn't even plan on coming to this. It was so last minute, how can she expect you just to drop everything and get all dressed up like that? 

You shrug your shoulders and think I see what true friends we are. You don't even care that I'm here. All you care about is that stupid dress. It's not really her business anyway what you wear. You're perfectly fine in what you have on, you're comfortable and would be accepted anywhere else you went with any other friends you have. You have the right to wear whatever you want. It's your body and your choice. Who asked her anyway? 

Her father comes over, the one who helped throw this party in his daughter's honor for her and all her friends. He's heartbroken that she's heartbroken. Your refusal to wear the dress she had taylor made for you out of her own money is like a slap in the face. The venue will not allow you to walk around dressed in next-to-sleepwear so security has been standing by to remove you from the facility. 

You're fuming mad, and who wouldn't be? How embarrassing to be kicked out of a party by your own best friend, the host of the event, who asked you to come in the first place? What kind of friend would turn you away over some dress code violation? You won't go without a fight. You begin kicking and screaming as you are carried out the door by security, the men who tried to hand you the dress when you arrived in the first place. 

This adapted story can be found in Matthew 22. 

Here's the truth spiritually speaking:

IF YOU'RE INVITED TO THE WEDDING FEAST, YOU DON'T GET TO PICK THE ATTIRE. 

YES, Jesus invites us to come as we are. How generous, how gracious! We can come wearing nothing at all (in fact, Jesus sees us that way without him, completely naked and exposed) and He has clothes waiting for us to wear. They are His clothes to give, His very own righteousness. He died to clothe us in that righteousness! What a costly, precious gift! Who would dare brush them off as unnecessary or too restrictive? They are ours as a gift free of charge from our loving host, our best friend.

And God is Holy. His holiness demands that we be holy. We can only become holy by putting on Christ, by dying to ourselves daily, taking up our cross and following Him.

The invitation to come stands, but we must take what is offered in order to fully receive the invitation. We must come as we are to the table of God, and He will change us from glory to glory. But not if we are clinging to former "clothes" we think are more suitable for us than what Christ offers. There is one way that leads to salvation, only through Jesus. We cannot hold tightly to our comfortable rags when He's offered us priceless attire of His own. 

Give What You Have

Our hearts are filled up to the brim with God's love. Now what?

Pour out.

Because conference jumping and good services that give you goosebumps was not all that God had in mind. His ministry to us is multipurposeful. Because we have freely received, now we also freely give. His act of love is our model; we see what the Father does and so we as sons and daughters model Him.

One day Peter and John were going up to the temple at the time of prayer—at three in the afternoon. Now a man who was lame from birth was being carried to the temple gate called Beautiful, where he was put every day to beg from those going into the temple courts. When he saw Peter and John about to enter, he asked them for money. Peter looked straight at him, as did John. Then Peter said, “Look at us!” So the man gave them his attention, expecting to get something from them. Then Peter said, “Silver or gold I do not have, but what I do have I give you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, walk.” Taking him by the right hand, he helped him up, and instantly the man’s feet and ankles became strong. He jumped to his feet and began to walk. Then he went with them into the temple courts, walking and jumping, and praising God. When all the people saw him walking and praising God, they recognized him as the same man who used to sit begging at the temple gate called Beautiful, and they were filled with wonder and amazement at what had happened to him. (Acts 3:1-10)

Can you imagine Peter passing this guy up because he was on his way to a prayer meeting? So many other people did! What he had, he gave to him. He poured out. 

Let us not become fooled into thinking we need to feel a certain way or have to have what we think is a good amount of Jesus before we give what we have been given already. Pour out. 

Doctrine

So many different church traditions. Many different doctrines. Why? Aren't we all reading from the same book? Where does all the differences come from?

Experience. 

Some have set hedges around their own experience, pointing to it saying "this is what we should believe." Experience is a great gift, but it should never be the foundation of our belief system, especially if it doesn't line up with God's Word. Experience should serve the Word, not the other way around. If you are taking scripture apart to support all your life experiences, take caution and change course.

Hard Questions

There are many problems in this world. The problem of evil, the problem of pain. And the supernatural is beyond our finite reasoning. Sometimes we can't explain how or why certain things happen, or are 'allowed' to happen, so we come up with theories. We need answers for hard questions. Scripture is scoured to find the right verse to sustain our own ideas and opinions and we come up with what we think should be doctrine. It happens more often than not.

Various Interpretations

Two people who read the same verse can come up with two very different interpretations. That's why when we read we should be good students and do some research. We should also realize we bring a lot of baggage to the table--cultural or otherwise. Scripture was never meant for us to pour meaning into it. It breathes with meaning, with purpose, with life. So much damage can be done when scripture is taken out of context and thrown around to suite our own purposes. 

Baby Out With the Bath Water

Some church traditions and doctrines have changed because they seemed like the next upgrade. Martin Luther left the Catholic tradition and formed the Lutheran church because he didn't believe in Catholocisms works trumping grace message and had differing views on the sacraments. He also wanted to throw out the book of James altogether because it leaned too much toward works in his opinion. I'm seeing the same kind of exodus in the Assemblies of God.  Some have left and have thrown off anything deemed a 'restraint'--church membership, tithing, the Old Testament... Freedom is not the absence of accountability, the absence of commitment, the absence of God's law. That sounds more like chaos to me.

Use Words

Saint Francis of Assisi said "Preach the Gospel at all times. And when necessary, use words."

It's a cute saying. And it's true. Actions do speak louder than words. We can have all the right words but if our own actions don't line up with what we are saying we're just wasting our breath.

Francis' saying, however, is becoming an overused Christian cliche. The problem with Christian cliches is that they are scriptural sounding phrases that end up trumping scripture and are all too often slapped on the wrong situations or are just flat out wrong. Like anybody's words, when taken out of context they can do more damage than good. 

Francis wasn't saying to never open our mouths when sharing the Gospel with people. He said "when necessary, use words." Jesus used words. A lot of words. Words inspired by the Holy Spirit. And it was Good News to the hearer. 

I'm telling you, if you want to share your faith, if you want to share the Gospel with people, you will have to use words. Just as Jesus said "when you fast" and not "if you fast," He's implying you will fast. In Francis' case, "when necessary use words" means it's necessary; you are going to have to open your mouth.

"In fact, it says, 'The message is very close at hand; it is on your lips and in your heart.' And that message is the very message about faith that we preach: If you openly declare that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. For it is by believing in your heart that you are made right with God, and it is by openly declaring your faith that you are saved. As the Scriptures tell us, 'Anyone who trusts in him will never be disgraced.' Jew and Gentile are the same in this respect. They have the same Lord, who gives generously to all who call on him. For 'Everyone who calls on the name of the LORD will be saved.' But how can they call on him to save them unless they believe in him? And how can they believe in him if they have never heard about him? And how can they hear about him unless someone tells them? And how will anyone go and tell them without being sent? That is why the Scriptures say, 'How beautiful are the feet of messengers who bring good news!' But not everyone welcomes the Good News, for Isaiah the prophet said, 'LORD, who has believed our message?' So faith comes from hearing, that is, hearing the Good News about Christ." (Romans 10:8-17 NLT)

There are other times when your voice is needed: 

AGAINST INJUSTICE

“Speak up for the people who have no voice, for the rights of all the down-and-outers. Speak out for justice! Stand up for the poor and destitute!” (Proverbs 31:8-9 MSG)

FOR RIGHTEOUSNESS SAKE

"Your job is to speak out on the things that make for solid doctrine. Guide older men into lives of temperance, dignity, and wisdom, into healthy faith, love, and endurance. Guide older women into lives of reverence so they end up as neither gossips nor drunks, but models of goodness. By looking at them, the younger women will know how to love their husbands and children, be virtuous and pure, keep a good house, be good wives. We don’t want anyone looking down on God’s Message because of their behavior. Also, guide the young men to live disciplined lives." (Titus 2:1-7 MSG)

And how can anyone hear anything of this unless it is spoken to them? Use words. It's necessary.

American Jesus

When thinking of Jesus, one has to consciously look at Him outside their own culture. It shouldn't be too hard because Jesus was, afterall, Jewish. But we seem to default to our worldview and hold that lense up to our Savior, snap a picture, and then show it to others. "This is Jesus." I take a look at the Jesus in the Gospels and compare Him to Americanized Jesus and it becomes very clear that they are not the same man. 

Jesus of the Gospels healed the sick, turned over the money changers tables in the temple, played with children, told the self-righteous they were a brood of vipers--all in the name of love. Jewish Jesus was relentless in compassion while unwavering in truth. The same Jesus who said "Ye without sin, cast the first stone," (John 8:7) was the same Jesus who said to His devoted follower "get behind me, Satan" (Matthew 16:23). He was Truth in Love Incarnant, the Rock of Offense (Romans 9:33) and the Lamb of God who takes away the world's sin (John 1:29) all wrapped up in one man. 

American Jesus is a stark contrast. He fits very snugly into our cultural view of tolerance. We have formed a Jesus of half truths so He's easier to swallow. American Jesus' is widely received, makes us feel good, and is more fun to share with people. American Jesus does not offend anyone and shows love by doing good and accepting others. American Jesus is put up and shut up. And so should we, because we are His followers, afterall. 

Jesus wasn't American, so we need to quit painting Him in this skewed light. If our friends get saved by a false Jesus we share with them, what good is that? As uncomfortable as it might make you feel, the Jewish Jesus of the Gospels who was crucified because He was hated is who we are called to be like, not the laid back, unconfrontational, popular Jesus of our culture. Jesus wasn't well received every single place He went and some people tore their clothes in anguish when He spoke because He upset their lazy, legalistic, auto-pilot, religious attempts on being "in" with Him. He didn't put up with exclusivity. He wasn't political or culturally sensitive. And He came to bring a sword. 

If we are going to follow the Jesus of the Gospels and not who our culture says He is, it means we are going to have to be ok with being mistreated like Him, being mocked like Him. We should count it joy to get to experience what our Savior went through because we are chasing the greatest calling--to be like Him. 

To be like Him, we are going to have to get real with people if we say we love them. We are going to have to stand out as we take a stand against evil and injustice. We're going to have to look intolerant to the rest of our culture because we don't have a warped view of love in an idea of grace that equals acceptance without repentance. Jesus' love wasn't one-sided, all mush and no push. Because He loved, He challenged the stagnant. Because He loved, He didn't remain neutral. Because He loved, He acted. Because He loved, He corrected. Because He loved, He spoke up.

Jesus said, “When people realize it is the living God you are presenting and not some idol that makes them feel good, they are going to turn on you, even people in your own family. There is a great irony here: proclaiming so much love, experiencing so much hate! But don’t quit. Don’t cave in. It is all well worth it in the end." (Matthew 10:21-22 MSG)

When I'm pondering this walk of faith and I'm tempted to let up on the passion a bit, the Holy Spirit quickens me that time is short and He means business. Any representation of Christ that comes down the pike claiming to be more socially acceptable--run for your life. Jesus wasn't a crowd pleaser, so don't expect to fit in.

The American Jesus might win more converts, but converts to what? If we are inviting people to join us the invitation should include "come and die." Jesus was never concerned about how many votes He would get; He was most concerned about the heart. Let's open our eyes and not be deceived by the enemy's tactics on getting us to water-down Jesus--our Savior, Who never did that Himself.

A Cup Of Water

"You can be sure that whoever gives even a drink of cold water to one of the least of these my followers because he is my follower, will certainly receive a reward.” (Matthew 10:42 GNT)

What is a cup of cold water worth? The significance might seem minuscule. It's just water. And it's only one cup, it's not like you dug a well or something. They are just going to get thirsty again. What's the point?

To the thirsty, a cup of water is life. To the dirty it's renewal. To the destitute it's hope. To the overlooked it's love. 

What we take for granted everyday because we can simply run the tap or turn the cap is most precious to others who have to walk miles upon miles for a bucket full of runoff that isn't barely worth the trek. 

Do not sneer at cup of water--literally or metaphorically--you or anyone else gives in the name of the Lord.

"While Jesus was eating, a woman came in with an alabaster jar full of a very expensive perfume made of pure nard. She broke the jar and poured the perfume on Jesus' head. Some of the people there became angry and said to one another, 'What was the use of wasting the perfume? It could have been sold for more than three hundred silver coins and the money given to the poor!' And they criticized her harshly." (Mark 14:3-5 GNT)

It may make more sense on paper for this woman to have honored Jesus in a "bigger" way with her gift by selling it and giving the money to the poor. Do you think the Lord would have still have been pleased and glorified if she had decided to do that instead? Of course He would have! Both scenarios can glorify the Lord. 

"But Jesus said, 'Leave her alone! Why are you bothering her? She has done a fine and beautiful thing for me...She did what she could...'" (Mark 14:6, 8 GNT). 

The point that Jesus was making to the onlookers is this: "Get your critical eye off your sister who's serving Me." The pharisaic heart will always fault-find, always knit-pick under the guise of being super-spiritual and in-the-right when they are harboring hatred, jealousy, and self-righteousness. Being critical over something done in the name of God fails to understand that the service or act is done unto the Lord, so His opinion trumps all others in the matter and He's not looking to us for a nod of approval.

The devil has set a bear-trap for a child of God to fall into the death jaws of comparison. The lie that sinks one into that trap is thinking we are somehow serving the Lord better than so-and-so or such-and-such. We end up arrogantly standing before Him sneering at other offerings being brought. We feel justified in our opinionated evaluations of others and might use scripture to back it up but in actuality we have joined chorus with the Accuser: "That's not good enough," "You're not making a difference," "What's the point?" And with pride in our heart--pride, the very thing that cast the devil from the Heavenlies and God's presence--we have become blinded to the true tactic of the enemy, which is division. Jesus said “Every kingdom divided against itself will be ruined, and every city or household divided against itself will not stand" (Matthew 12:25 NIV). 

It is truly beautiful when we each uniquely honor the Lord with the gifts and callings He has given us! We should be celebrating the the acts of love--no matter how small or big we think it is--that our brothers sisters do in His name. We should not be tearing apart any service unto Him because it's not what we would've done. A cup of water might not be a big deal to you but unto the Lord it is a most precious gift that pleases the Father. We are to be a unified front against the enemy, not joining his ranks and doing his dirty work from the inside, comparing and criticizing when we should be honoring and lifting one another up. Let's keep our eyes on our Audience of One Who loves us dearly. We are one Bride, His beloved.

Repeat these basic essentials over and over to God’s people. Warn them before God against pious nitpicking, which chips away at the faith. It just wears everyone out. Concentrate on doing your best for God, work you won’t be ashamed of, laying out the truth plain and simple. Stay clear of pious talk that is only talk. Words are not mere words, you know. If they’re not backed by a godly life, they accumulate as poison in the soul. Run away from infantile indulgence. Run after mature righteousness—faith, love, peace—joining those who are in honest and serious prayer before God. (2 Timothy 2:14-16 MSG)

Desperation

I'm learning not to despise the things that create a desperation in my soul for the only stability I've ever known. Learning not to hate the things that cause me to run under the umbrella of God and be close to Him as it pours chaos all around me. 

Steffany Gretzinger said, "There is a price for the closeness." I'm learning it's not just time or even sleep. The price is far reaching and it will cost you every certainty in this world. You will give it all up to know, in desperate longing, a Force you cannot see. It's not a haphazard, blind following, however. Because the benefits and rewards of following Him far outweigh anything you will ever give up.

Despair (over lack, over pain, over hardship) for endless real hope.

Mourning (over loss and over waste) for joy in new mercies and new beginnings and anything renewable--including you.

Terror (of the past, the present, the future) for unexplainable peace that doesn't come from simply thinking happy thoughts but surpasses any logic. 

Hatred (of others, of circumstances, of self) for genuine, overflowing and enduring love straight from the throne of grace--grace that is greater. Always.

God can do a lot with desperation. It creates open hands and open hearts ready to welcome Him, the Living God. When God lets the plug out we can be filled to overflowing again. We begin to speak up again. We begin again. And again. And again. 

Sovereign God

Ever been in a place where God comes and completely messes with your theology? Your neat and organized ideas of God, like shredded in a matter of minutes?  

You have two options when He does that. 

Option 1: Get frustrated. Get bitter. Throw your hands up and say "screw it, He's too hard to know." Have the attitude that this isn't worth all the hardship, trying to walk this out when you don't get it. Give in and and go back--back on everything, back to everything that's familiar and knowable. And Egypt. Get cynical and jaded and judgemental. Knit-pick and fault-find your way out of this because it's easier to say it was all one big mistake. A ruse. A hoax. A lie. 

And it would be exactly the bait the enemy wants to serve you. He loves to discredit God and all He is and has done in our lives. 

Option 2: Keep going. Get low and get humble. Admit you don't know all the answers but Your God is still good, He's still just, and still worth it all. Admit that He is God, and you are not. Admit it's hard. Admit your great need--which is still Him in all things. It's still Him you want. It's still Him you desire, even more than before because now you've found out the real truth--the great depths too deep to measure about the One true God you had tried to fit in your box. And Him, our Pearl of Great Price, is worth every little ounce of our being.

And I'm telling you, option two is His plan. It's His sovereign plan to bring about His own steadfastness in our lives. It's His idea to forge His own relentless Spirit with ours at the point of greatest strain. Who can know all that He has in store for building us--His kingdom--His way? And for those of us who don't say "when," and turn back, we have a glorious reward: Christ Himself, the hope of glory.

So if He has to empty out all our pockets of even the little ideas and opinions about Him, I say do it. Wreck us. Let us not be caught stuck in our own understandings about who we think He is. May we be teachable and moldable, open to know Him like we've never known Him before--as He is.