Sticks and Stones

“Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me.”

This past Sunday I left church feeling out of sync.  We had a guest preacher and while I appreciated the basic admonition that was communicated I found myself disagreeing with the supporting declarations.  I believe the sermon’s objective was sincere:  to illustrate the disparity between the value we place on God’s Word vs. all other forms of media input (cell phones, email, Internet, books, TV, film, magazines, blogs, etc.).  However, several times during the sermon some proclamations were made that rendered me conflicted and unsettled.

One such declaration was that words do not have the power to bring life, unless it is the word of God (aka scripture).  Even the word of God disproves that thesis.  Proverbs 18:21 says, “The tongue has the power of life and death, and those who love it will eat its fruit.” (NIV)

I don’t think that acknowledging the power in words diminishes the supremacy of God’s word.  His word spoke worlds into being.  But I don’t want to ever underestimate the weight of every other word.  It would be irresponsible… dangerous… toxic even… to deny its influence on the world and people around me.

I leave you with some of the best quotes I’ve found on the power of words:

“Sometimes, you read a book and it fills you with this weird evangelical zeal, and you become convinced that the shattered world will never be put back together unless and until all living humans read the book.”

― John Green, The Fault in Our Stars

“Words are pale shadows of forgotten names. As names have power, words have power. Words can light fires in the minds of men. Words can wring tears from the hardest hearts.”

― Patrick Rothfuss, The Name of the Wind

“There is something about words. In expert hands, manipulated deftly, they take you prisoner. Wind themselves around your limbs like spider silk, and when you are so enthralled you cannot move, they pierce your skin, enter your blood, numb your thoughts. Inside you they work their magic.”

― Diane Setterfield, The Thirteenth Tale

“The words of the wicked lie in wait for blood but the mouth of the upright delivers them.”

-Proverbs 12:6 (ESV)

“Words... They're innocent, neutral, precise, standing for this, describing that, meaning the other, so if you look after them you can build bridges across incomprehension and chaos. But when they get their corners knocked off, they're no good any more... I don't think writers are sacred, but words are. They deserve respect. If you get the right ones in the right order, you can nudge the world a little or make a poem which children will speak for you when you're dead.”

― Tom Stoppard, The Real Thing: A Play

Jesus said, “But I tell you that men will have to give account on the day of judgment for every careless word they have spoken. For by your words you will be acquitted, and by your words you will be condemned”

-Matthew 12:36–37 (ESV)

“He was intrigued by the power of words, not the literary words that filled the books in the library but the sharp, staccato words that went into the writing of news stories. Words that went for the jugular. Active verbs that danced and raced on the page.”

― Robert Cormier, I Am the Cheese

“A book, too, can be a star, a living fire to lighten the darkness, leading out into the expanding universe.”

― Madeleine L'Engle

“For some of us, books are as important as almost anything else on earth. What a miracle it is that out of these small, flat, rigid squares of paper unfolds world after world after world, worlds that sing to you, comfort and quiet or excite you. Books help us understand who we are and how we are to behave. They show us what community and friendship mean; they show us how to live and die.”

― Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life

“Writing and reading decrease our sense of isolation. They deepen and widen and expand our sense of life: they feed the soul. When writers make us shake our heads with the exactness of their prose and their truths, and even make us laugh about ourselves or life, our buoyancy is restored. We are given a shot at dancing with, or at least clapping along with, the absurdity of life, instead of being squashed by it over and over again. It's like singing on a boat during a terrible storm at sea. You can't stop the raging storm, but singing can change the hearts and spirits of the people who are together on that ship.”

― Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life

Mission and Living in Community

This is my friend, Katy. She attends Crossroads with us and today was her last day in San Diego. She and her husband, along with their four children, will be traveling cross country as they raise support for the mission field. They are currently planning on leaving for the mission field in August. It was a difficult goodbye for several reasons one of which is that I regret that I didn't have the opportunity to spend as much time as I would have liked with someone I have found so much in common with (did I just end that sentence with a preposition? Ugh). She has been such an example of grace to me in the short time I've known her. I've watched her love her children and her husband with humility and courage and delighted in the joys of seeing God miraculously provide for her in the most unusual ways.

In the midst of her family leaving, our church has been facing a major transition as well. We are moving away from a Sunday gathering/attractional service orientation to smaller Missional Communities that meet weekly and then gather all together once or twice a month. To facilitate this move, the leaders have been studying the concept of Missional Communities or "house churches". This week in particular I was convicted and energized by the areas of mission and the gospel that I have been at the very least ignoring and the worst, running full force from. (There's that damn preposition again!) This morning as our church family said goodbye to Katy and her family and prayed over them and their mission overseas, I knew that God was asking us to support them financially. My first, gut reaction was, "Wait! But I want my house! I need a house! We can't afford to commit any more money to another budget line item!" So as I sat there trying to ignore the Holy Spirit, Matt started his sermon... which was about "Living in Mission". Somewhere in the midst of the sermon he went through a list of what living on mission would be characterized by (sorry... my brain is too tired to phrase these sentence without the prep at the end!). The one that jumped out and slapped me upside the head was "foolish generosity". Oh great. Now God wasn't giving me an excuse. So I argued a little...

"Now, God... here's the deal. I know intellectually that making a commitment that financially doesn't make sense right now, in this economy would just not be wise. Besides, while I'm committed to You and to our church, I still don't 'feel' the passion for this community yet. I don't have real roots here. I'm being obedient but I just don't 'feel' it yet."

No sooner had I gone through the whole spiel then I was overcome with sorrow. Sorrow at my lack of faith, sorrow for the lost and sorrow for my lack of action. The tears just spilled. I knew that we would be making the commitment to Katy and her family. I knew it was right and I knew that I was going to have to trust that God really is sovereign and he has called us to foolish generosity.

So, this is how missional community works. As a member of our community enters into the mission that God has called her to, it has ripple effects throughout the rest of the community. It is spurring me on to live more missionally myself, pushing me toward trusting in God's sovereignty and toward obedience. THIS is what Missional Community is supposed to be.

For more information of the types of Missional Communities I am referring to, visit:

Soma Communities
Crowded House
Tim Chester's Blog
Jeff Vanderstelt's Blog

Change is in the air...

The reality of the troubling economy keeps hitting closer to home. As you probably already know, our economy is in the tank…no where is this more true than in the state of California. This past week our legislature passed a new budget which includes many cuts and many new taxes. Now… our church meets in a middle school where we had set up a special arrangement with the principal… our “rent” was covering their custodial supply budget each month (around $800). We had a fabulous relationship with both the principal and the custodian(who is a Christian). However, this week the school district administrators informed all the schools that they will be fully required to uphold all published rates starting March 1st. This is in an effort to help fund these schools who are losing some of their funding from the state. In our particular situation this would mean a 100-200 % increase in our monthly fees. (We have NOT been singled out… other churches are getting the same news).

The problem this creates for us is several fold. Our church is in an extremely low income section of San Diego county. Our membership’s giving can not sustain an increase in fees. In fact, my brother and his wife have not received a salary in almost a year. They have been surviving on special one time gifts (from outside sources) and credit cards. Our original plan was to start a fundraising “campaign” for this mission to National City. Now, with only two weeks before our rate increases exponentially we are faced with making rapid decisions.

Out of the various options, it looks like our best one is to convert to a “house church” model. So, yesterday Matt and Larry spoke with the congregation (which averages between 80-90 people) and told them the situation and the options with the house church option being the most feasible. We so appreciated your prayers. The response was overwhelmingly positive. Now we covet your prayers as we (RAPIDLY) move into implementation mode. This will be very stressful and we need wisdom.

As I've lived the worries associated with this shift for the last few days, I have been constantly reminded of our Isaac and God's providential hand in what seemed like a bleak outlook. I know from experience that God has his hand on us and our church.

This is my prayer in the desert
When all that's within me feels dry
This is my prayer
in the hunger in me
My God is a God who provides

And this is my prayer in the fire
In weakness or trial or pain
There is a faith proved
Of more worth than gold
So refine me Lord through the flames

And I will bring praise
I will bring praise
No weapon forged against me shall remain
I will rejoice
I will declare
God is my victory and He is here

And this is my prayer in the battle
And triumph is still on it's way
I am a conqueror and co-heir with Christ
So firm on His promise I'll stand

And I will bring praise
I will bring praise
No weapon forged against me shall remain
I will rejoice
I will declare
God is my victory and He is here

Bridge:
All of my life
In every season
You are still God
I have a reason to sing
I have a reason to worship

And I will bring praise
I will bring praise
No weapon forged against me shall remain
I will rejoice
I will declare
God is my victory and He is here

This is my prayer in the harvest
When favor and providence flow
I know I'm filled
to be emptied again
The seed I've received I will sow

"Desert Song" by Hillsongs United

The Hope Box

“Do not be hardhearted or tightfisted toward your poor brother… Give generously to him and do so without a grudging heart” (Deuteronomy 15:7-11).

Several years ago a few women and I went through a study called "Compassion By Command", a faith-based curriculum designed to mobilize Christians to reach out to the poor. The study takes participants deep into Scripture to better understand God’s heart for the poor and the responsibility that Christians have in helping those in poverty. At the end of the study, they challenge you to come up with your own "project" to reach out to those in poverty. In the midst of our brainstorming, one of the ideas we came up with was a box for people to keep in their cars with items for the homeless people we often encounter at stoplights here in San Diego. The idea didn't take off at the time but... fast forward to the Baldwin kids' fall intercession.

Three weeks of no school when most other schools are in session. Time to kill and time to fill. I told the kids about the original idea and they kind of took off with it. My brother, Matt, who is our pastor, often says, "You don't need a church program to love your neighbor". Well, we decided to just go for it, create a box and provide empty boxes to others at church so that they could do the same thing. We created a list of practical items to which homeless people often don't have access. We made trips to the 99 Cent Store and Big Lots and stocked up on items plus a few empty plastic containers. Emma dubbed the project, "Hope Box". They were excited about putting our Hope Box together and it was fun to browse the aisles deciding what to include and explaining why to the kids.

To prepare for introducing our Hope Boxes, we printed up a list with suggested items and taped them onto the inside of each plastic container. We then drew up a "pledge" that we wanted people to sign when they picked up their empty boxes. The pledge read:

I pledge to, through the Hope Box Project, participate in redeeming my city for God. By helping to practically provide for those who are in need, I pray God will use me as an instrument of healing and as a window to the gospel. I will not use this opportunity to build my pride or feel superior but will recognize my need and my poverty and choose to identify with and fellowship with those who live and breathe financial poverty. I will use the interactions with those in need as an opportunity to move beyond “doing a good deed” into building relationships. I pledge to replenish my Hope Box when it is empty, to speak with love and act with compassion.

We introduced the Hope Box last week. We are hoping that people will return with stories... stories of hope, stories of changes (especially changes in the hearts of those serving) and stories of the Gospel in action.

I encourage you to come up with your own ideas. Share them here! I want to hear all about them.

* Here is our suggested list of items (but by no means all inclusive):

Water Bottles
Band-Aids
Gloves
Tarps
Ponchos
Neosporin
Sunscreen
Beef jerky
Trail mix
Deodorant
Wipes
Tissues
Travel Toothbrushes w/ toothpaste
Flashlights/Batteries
Granola Bars
Feminine Hygiene Products

My baby girl...

Emma got baptized last Sunday by her Uncle Matt. She was baptized along with her cousin, Shaye, and fellow Crossroads member, Patty Mendez. It was a wonderful time of music and celebration. A reminder of the gospel and it's healing, redemptive power.

143 million

A couple of years ago Larry and I grabbed hold of our friend, Karin's dream of an orphan ministry at our church and launched "Father's Heart". As we prepared for our move we were eager to find someone who could take ownership of the ministry, continue it's mission and expand its influence. God answered our prayers in the form of THREE people! One for each arm of Father's Heart. These women are uniquely gifted to complement one another and I am so very thankful that God called them to Father's Heart and that they responded so enthusiastically. Shelley Walatka is our new "adoption" liaison, Berette Bonebrake is our CASA expert and Candace Labron is heading up the foster parenting arm. Take a look at the video Shelley put together (you might even recognize some of the people!):

Ash Wednesday

Tonight I attended and participated in my first Ash Wednesday service...ever. The service was beautiful. I am reminded of how broken I am and yet how merciful He is. "I'm forgiven because you were forsaken. You are my King."

Most holy and merciful Father: We confess to you and to one another, and to the whole communion of saints in heaven and on earth, that we have sinned by our own fault in thought, word, and deed; by what we have done, and by what we have left undone.

We have not loved you with our whole heart, and mind, and strength. We have not loved our neighbors as ourselves. We have not forgiven others, as we have been forgiven.
Have mercy on us, Lord.

We have been deaf to your call to serve, as Christ served us. We have not been true to the mind of Christ. We have grieved your Holy Spirit.
Have mercy on us, Lord.

We confess to you, Lord, all our past unfaithfulness: the pride, hypocrisy, and impatience of our lives,
We confess to you, Lord.

Our self-indulgent appetites and ways, and our exploitation of other people,
We confess to you, Lord.

Our anger at our own frustration, and our envy of those more fortunate than 0urselves,
We confess to you, Lord.

Our intemperate love of worldly goods and comforts, and our dishonesty in daily life and work,
We confess to you, Lord.

Our negligence in prayer and worship, and our failure to commend the faith that is in us,
We confess to you, Lord.

Accept our repentance, Lord, for the wrongs we have done: for our blindness to human need and suffering, and our indifference to injustice and cruelty,
Accept our repentance, Lord.

For all false judgments, for uncharitable thoughts toward our neighbors, and for our prejudice and contempt toward those who differ from us,
Accept our repentance, Lord.

For our waste and pollution of your creation, and our lack of concern for those who come after us,
Accept our repentance, Lord.

Restore us, good Lord, and let your anger depart from us;
Favorably hear us, for your mercy is great.

Accomplish in us the work of your salvation,
That we may show forth your glory in the world.

By the cross and passion of your Son our Lord,
Bring us with all your saints to the joy of his resurrection.

Now, let us rise and stand in the joy of God’s forgiveness

.

Best laid plans...

I had high hopes for all the house work I would accomplish today after being down with some stomach yuck. Somehow, with missing snow boots, a drive to the school to search for them, a run-in with a certain son's teacher who informed me of some important missing homework, an hour and 1/2 of walking said son through the homework assignment, throwing a certain un-named preschooler into the tub because she drew all over her arms with ballpoint pen, scrubbing aforementioned arms until they were raw so that she wouldn't show up at preschool tomorrow looking like she has a mother who only eats bon-bons all day while her children run wild ( I mean, real-ly. I only do that on Tuesdays.), and then realizing I better get dinner going so my children won't starve since I have to take one of them to small group at 6 and then get myself to worship rehearsal...it just didn't happen.

(Random Pet Peeve Statement: By the way, WORLD, I just used "myself" in the previous sentence the correct way...I am so frustrated with the way people use that word in place of "me"!!! Even on the news, in presidential debates, sermons, in books...it's criminal.)

Oh crap... I just remembered that I have to make lunches.

When I grow up...

…I want to be Berette.

Last week, before our house went on the market officially, I received a phone call in the late afternoon from our broker. She has a potential buyer who would be in town the next morning and wanted to see the house. Larry was thousands of feet in the air traveling back from San Diego and my house was a complete disaster. So, having much faith and discipline, I knelt down and prayed for overwhelming peace and energy and dug in…NOT! I panicked! My first instinct was to grab the phone and call the most resourceful person I know who has had experience with showing houses with a house full of children…Berette.

Me (hyperventilating): “So, I’m in a panic…(I explain the dilemma)…what is the least I need to do to get the house ready to show? What should I do?”

Berette (completely calm but decidedly perky): “Ok…(side note: this is not the first time I have heard this next phrase come from Berette’s mouth)…here’s what you do! I will be over in about an hour, pick up your kids, pick up some pizza, take them back to my house at which point Jeff (her husband) will be home. I will leave all the kids there, pack up my cleaning supplies and be back over. Then we will clean your house till it shines! How does that sound?”

Me (feeling guilty…this is not what I meant when I asked, “what should I do”): “uhhhhh…”

Berette (firmly, yet STILL perky): “This is where you say, ‘sounds good, Berette. See you in a little bit.'”

Me (thankful for this lifeline and the fact that Berette is not allowing me to turn away help which I am VERY adept at doing): “Ok…thank you. I will see you in a little bit.”

Let me just say that this chick knows how to clean and how to do it quickly! What an amazing woman but really this story only scratches the surface of how God has blessed me through her.

I met Berette a couple of years ago when I was working at our Father’s Heart display at church (Father’s Heart is the orphan ministry that Larry and I oversee). She was visiting River Valley with her family and immediately expressed her delight in seeing us promoting adoption through the foster care system (it was our emphasis that week). She and her husband, Jeff, are former foster parents and have adopted all four of their children AND she has a rainbow family like us! I was so encouraged just in the span of our 5 minute chat because she absolutely radiated contagious enthusiasm (those who know her, can I hear an “amen”?).

Her family started attending the church but with three services and seven (now eight!) kids between us I didn’t have any opportunity to touch base with her again. However, several months later, she showed up on the list of people who had signed up to bring us meals after we brought Maddie home from China and she had volunteered to bring us dinner on CHRISTMAS DAY! I called her and told her that mom would be in town and she really needn’t go through the trouble. I have since learned that when Berette decides to serve, there is no dissuading her! She brought us a lovely dinner and the most amazing caramel-y apple dessert.

Since that time, I have had the pleasure of calling Berette my friend. I feel authentically loved by her. I have learned that when I have a genuine need, I can call her. She must have the spiritual gift of service because she is readily available to pitch in wherever a need exists. I had the distinct honor several months ago of accompanying her to her “swearing in” by the juvenile court judge as she was commissioned as a Court Appointed Special Advocate and prayed for her as she tackles her first couple cases. I am proud of her, blessed by her, appreciative of her tenacity and spirit and will miss her immensely. But I also know Berette and so I know that our lives will intersect again and again.

BTW- I just got home from picking up my dog at her house. She volunteered to watch him while we had a showing.

Someone you need to get to know...

...my 13 year old. I've talked about my (teenage!) son before. (That's him on the far right in the "Vote For Pedro" shirt, along with his friends, Holden and Sean.) He's pretty amazing if I do say so myself. Yes, there's the sighs, the rolling of the eyes, the things one would expect from a teenager but there's also something different. I'd like you to experience what I mean for yourself. I am reposting (with his permission) a blog entry that he wrote last night about his experience last weekend at Fall Forward, a retreat our church has for 8th graders to equip them for leadership. As a parent, I was floored...as a (sometimes) writer, I was drawn in...as a Christ follower, I was moved.

Fall Forward: The Retreat that Changed My Life Forever
Current mood: reflective
Category: reflective Religion and Philosophy


Well...Fall Forward. What an experience. It all started Friday: the 14th, at River Valley Church. Right across from Penn. A bunch of eighth graders packed their things into a trailer and got in two separate vans to head to the retreat!

Before I go any further, let me explain what Fall Forward is. It is a retreat for 8th graders. It was for them to discover who they are in Christ and learn to become leaders among the Jr. High.

So, when we arrived at the lakehouse (the one that belongs to the Ryans), we all unpacked our things and the guys went downstairs, while the girls went upstairs. (The guys weren't allowed in the upper room, and the girls weren't allowed downstairs, while the main floor was "neutral". A few girls did not obey this rule. But all the boys did. haha.)

Anyway...the rest of the night was spent playing outside and watching football (a little bit). We swam in the lake for a while, and I realized after getting out that I had not packed a towel. After funtime was over, it was time for our group meeting, which was basically the only religious thing we did while at the lakehouse. That night's lesson: Giving what you have to God's will, and to others who need it most. The lesson was pretty solemn. Two girls began crying halfway through because guilt was dawning on them. Yeah, the lesson my uncle (the pastor for Jr. High) had prepared was that powerful. As we closed our eyes, and my uncle led us in personal prayer, a lady came in (unbeknownst to us) wearing mime paint and hobo clothes and carrying a bag containing bread, a candle, a little grape juice, and matches to light the candle with. As my uncle slowly asked us to open our eyes...my friends and I jumped back and began laughing. Even through our laughter though, the mime lady kept a straight face and performed her pantomime skit. The hobo-lady put down the bag slowly, and lit the candle. Even through my friends' and my constant snickering, something was itching at the back of my conscience. The lady took out her tiny bits of bread she had to eat, mimed a prayer over it, and brought it to her mouth. But she stopped before she took a bite and looked around, gazing at each of us in turn. I couldn't help but joke around, even with my uneasy feeling. But my amusement towards the skit quickly faded away as she turned to each one of us, again in turn, and gave us each a piece of bread. She smiled kindly at us as she did this, and it made me feel sorta guilty for goofing off, so i stopped. Next, the lady brought out the grape juice, mimed a prayer over it, and stopped before she took a sip. She again turned her head to look at each of us, and let us each dip our bread in the bowl of grape juice. like a mini-communion. But communion was not where this skit was going. The lady again sat up and prayed, right there in the middle of our group circle, and then slowly came up to each and everyone of us. She began wiping taking facepaint from her own face, and smearing a little bit on each of us. Before turning to the next person, she would pat us each one the back and give us each a gentle smile.

It was when she did this that I realized what was going. It dawned on me what this lesson was really about. And as my uncle had us bow our heads, he explained to us what it was: To give everything you may have to others, so that they may see God and so His will be carried out. This hit tremendously close to home for me. Since I found out I will move, I have been saying things like, "My church in San Diego doesn't have a youth group!" or "It can never teach me what I have learned here at River Valley!" and stuff like that. Yet, that night, I realized that that was the reason I had to move. The reason I was called to move. I had been moved to Indiana in the first place to meet all my great friends, and get to know God to an even deeper level than I couldn't have possibly imagined. And now, I was being drawn to San Diego to use that to bring others to Him. Even if it meant leaving everything behind. And that was what "Fall Forward" meant; at a spiritual level. It was not just learning to move forward at the beginning of Fall. But it literally meant what it says: "Fall Forward, and God will catch you". Pretty much. That was what was taught the next day.

The next day, we went to a Bible camp further into Michigan. There, we played games. Games that challenged our thinking skills, motor skills, and were just plain fun. But by the end of almost each game, each and every one of us in my group found a spiritual or deeper meaning into these games. And after lunch, they took us to the very thing my Uncle Paul had warned us about. The thing would challenge the very core of our bravery. The thing that may push us farther than we ever thought. The High Ropes Course. Basically, we were harnessed to a steel wire above us, a good distance above the ground, with a bunch of obstacles we were to traverse. The very first part, and the part that was the most nerve-wracking was climbing up a ladder, with your harnessed attached to a knot that on each step you had to move above your head, and then climbing up a pole with a few metal bars for steps. I made it up there. Then I looked down. It had seemed a little lower from the ground. It had seemed easier on the ground, too. I went to the first obstacle. I couldn't do it. I just stood there, at the first step of the first obstacle (we had a few paths to choose from), and I just couldn't do it. For some reason, I could not trust the harness to hold (although it was ensured to be perfectly safe). I ended up zip-lining down to the ground, having absolutely no self-respect for myself in me. I walked back towards the group of people who had had their turn before me, hoping they would not ask me the question I did not want to be asked "Why'd You stop?" Of course, many people asked me anyways. I was on the verge of tears. Yes, I was that ashamed of myself. But I held them in.

When the group was finished, they had a discussion of the spiritual meaning behind all this. And yes, this where they brought in the "Fall Forward" concept. They were talking about how the harness was like God. And how trusting in the harness to keep you safe was like trusting God. Being able to "Fall Forward" and he will catch you. Of course, my case was different than everyone else's. I hadn't been able to do it. And there was a reason for that...which i just realized today. (Two days after that Saturday). Being not able to trust in the harness perfectly portrayed how I did not trust in God. It showed me exactly how I had been in a direct application to the situation. The reason I had no faith to trust the harness, was to show me that I had had no faith to trust in God.

Later that day, we got to learn about spiritual gifts. Although I had already read about these before, my Uncle handed out a test, after the lesson. It showed us supposedly which gift we most likely had. My highest scores: Teaching and knowledge. Of course, I expected this. Not because I was full of myself, but because I, for the past year or so, had been reading the Bible for fun, taking deep and richer meaning in what I read. I had gotten involved in reading about apologetics, which is the process of proving through logical, scientific, and any other means, that the Bible is not false...or even to the extent that it is definitely true(once you prove to them it is not false), to non-believers. I had gotten into scientific analysis of the Bible. Risky territory, for it is easy to get too entangled in mixing up God's Word, but he kept me very alert and cautious through it. Anyways...so, i expected to get knowledge at least. But teaching was one of the things I didn't really expect. Sometimes, when I speak on stuff like that, it is hard for me to choose the right words to say to people. Yet, it came through as my other highest score (equal to knowledge). And again, it all connected to moving. It showed me that I have a gift. And that I needed to use that gift for the Lord. I needed to share the gift with others, like the mime-hobo-lady had done with her things. I needed to let go of the harness and use my gift wherever even if it is dangerous for me, because, like the harness, God will catch me when I choose to "Fall Forward". Everything tied in. Everything made sense.

Although the very next day was uneventful (spending it mostly sleeping and watching TV), It gave me time to think over the significance of the weekend. Fall Forward had been exactly what I needed to get through my pain and sadness at the exact right time I needed it. I got encouraged to move, so I did not have to live in constant fear when I moved To San Diego until I learned all this by myself. He allowed me to go on this retreat so that I may not be afraid to do all that I have written about today.

S*O*S - Summer of Service

So...today I dropped off my teenage (ugh) son at Bethel College for a week of camp. It's a service and worship camp and they'll be doing work in the community all week long. He was so excited to be going...it's all jr. hi and high school students from all over the midwest...a group from our church, the local Vineyard church and then a whole bunch of other Vineyard churches in the region. Pray for them...the impact they will have on the community and the spiritual growth potential as well!

Under the Water

Tonight my son was baptized by his dad and his Uncle (and Youth pastor) Paul to the tune of "Sweetly Broken".

Tomorrow

My son, Landen, is getting baptized tomorrow night!

Return To Me

Our church just began a series of sermons today on the letters to the seven churches in the book of Revelation. The focus was on the church in Ephesus and "returning to our first love"... in particular, how we spend so much time trying to look like "good Christians" that we neglect our relationship with the One it is all about. One of the "responses" that our Pastor encouraged us to pursue was to take some time in the next 24 hours to reflect on when our faith first came alive and write about it.

As I was thinking through this exercise, I had some trouble identifying a specific time period or age when this occurred for me. Being brought up in a Christian home and identifying myself as a Christian for my entire life has put me in the position (sometimes awkward in church circles) of not having a "conversion date" (or "spiritual birthday" as those who trumpet their own like to call it). My relationship with Christ has all been a journey and not always linear.

I did find, however, that even though I couldn't point to a conversion experience, I could clearly recall moments where grace sneaked into my life and invaded my space...changing forever the way I viewed God, myself and the world around me and marking that instant of time as life altering kairos.

I experienced one of these moments in November of 1997.

The months, even years, leading up to this particular winter were some of the most difficult of my life and definitely the most difficult in our marriage. We had been dealing with everything from secondary infertility to finishing a master's degree, raising the most precocious toddler on earth and watching our marriage fall apart. Both wounded, angry and tired, we had committed to being obedient...despite how we "felt"...and staying in and working on our marriage. During the worst months of our marriage and the first couple months of our decision to love each other "no matter what", we had put our plans for expanding our family on hold... no fertility treatments, no talks about adoption... not right now.

On November 10th, I received a call from an adoption facilitator, Sarah, who we had met through a crisis pregnancy center. She informed me that she was in contact with several birth moms who were looking specifically for Christian families for their babies. Sarah liked to give the birth moms information on several families so that they could make the best decision about placing their children. At this particular time, she felt she didn't have enough families that fit these requests to give the girls real options. In addition, one had already given birth and a couple others were due any day. Time was of the essence. She asked me if Larry and I would consider submitting a "birth mother" letter for her to offer along with the few other families she currently had on file.

Larry and I were overwhelmed with every emotion imaginable...excitement, fear, apprehension. We knew we were not even out of the pit our marriage had fallen into...would this even be wise? We prayed about it together that night and talked to our parents and some trusted people at church. Then, believing that God had His hand on this and had confirmed it, we wrote the letter and on the 12th I drove it up to Sarah's office.

On Friday, the 14th, I received a page from Sarah (the days of the ever present cell phone had not yet arrived). I returned her call and she reminded me to make copies of the letter so that she could present them to the birth mothers. I assured her that I would get them done and deliver them later that day. Not half an hour later, my phone rang. I answered and Sarah said, "You know, Melissa, don't bother making copies of that letter." My immediate panicked thought was, "What could she have found out about us?" She followed up immediately with, "I read your letter to a birth mom over the phone and she picked your family! The baby is five months old already and you can meet him on Sunday." WHAT??????!!!!!!!!

I'm sure I don't need to go into the details of our crazy weekend. I can share that another time. Suffice it to say that we met Desiree and our sweet Isaac on Sunday, November 16th and Monday, November 17th he was in our home. A true miracle.

With no time to prepare, we ended up setting up a Pack 'n Play in our bedroom next to our bed for him to sleep in. He slept through the first night but the second night he woke up whimpering. I leaned over, still in compete amazement over this gift with which God had astonished us. I gently lifted him into bed and placed him between me and Larry. He continued to whimper and reached about with his little hand until he found my face in the dark. He placed his little palm on my cheek and immediately stopped crying... falling asleep with his hand still on my face. Tears streamed down my face and soaked my pillow and his little hand. Larry whispered, "Are you okay?" All I could say was, "I don't deserve this."

THAT is grace. God had given us a gift in Isaac. He had shown us that He believed in our family...that He would sustain our marriage. Grace had invaded my space.

These are the moments I need to remember... what God has done for me, the chief of sinners. I need to keep that wonder... return to that wonder...the wonder of His grace.

Songwriting Saturdays

So...our church had a "songwriting saturday" this past weekend. I have to admit, I was somewhat skeptical (i know, you all are thinking, "Melissa? Skeptical?"). I wasn't sure if it would be cheesy or if any of our talented people would show up or if feedback would be a process of tiptoeing around truth or if we'd all be drained of creative energy and unable to spark anything in such an unspontaneous manner. I was surprised. I really enjoyed myself and left inspired to write more. Someday I will learn to not be so quick to make assumptions or maybe to try things without letting possible random realities stop me.