Spreading the Gospel

"...it is an honor to be made instrumental in extending the true religion. So great is this honor, that it is mentioned as the highest which could be conferred even on the Redeemer in this world. And if he deemed it an honor, shall we not also regard it as a privilege to engage in the work of Christian missions, and to endeavor to save the world from ruin? There is no higher glory for man than to tread in the footsteps of the Son of God; and he who, by self-denial and charity, and personal toil and prayer, does most for the conversion of this whole world to God, is most like the Redeemer, and will have the most elevated seat in the glories of the heavenly world."

This is commentary on Isaiah 49:6

He says, "It is too small a thing that You should be My Servant To raise up the tribes of Jacob and to restore the preserved ones of Israel; I will also make You a light of the nations So that My salvation may reach to the end of the earth."

Just nailing it down somewhere so I can come back and ponder on it some more... 

Preamble

Laney's assignment for yesterday was to write a Preamble for our family. 

It had been a long time since I had read the Preamble to our Constitution:

We the People of the United States, in order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish the Constitution for the United States of America. 

(That's another blog post right there...)

And here is Laney's Preamble:

We, the Children of the B--- Household, promise to try to obey the rule's, keep our hands to eachother, keep our bad thoughts to ourselves, try to be kind to our friends even the ones we dont like, and promise to be kind to our Elders. Signed, Laney, Jude and Zane

 Well, there you go. Our Preamble. I may make one too... 

A different kind of infertility?

I will never forget it. My friend Jamie faced the possibility of sending back to his biological mother the child she had cared for nearly since birth and wanted desperately to adopt. I sat in the floor of my living room and as he crawled to me, I sobbed. I had just found out that I was pregnant with my fourth child, after having lost the third, and enduring a small period of time where I didn't know if I would get this child. I was awash in emotions. It was too much, this entire journey of parenthood and all its beautiful, amazing and horrific ways.

It was through my friend Jamie that I first saw the joys and terrible agony of adoption. It was in the floor that day as I looked at her son through a wall of tears that I felt the twist in my heart. I confessed to God that even as I carried a child, I wanted to adopt one. I didn't even understand the desire or longing in my heart, but I felt it. Was God planting a seed of longing? Yes. It seemed He was.  

(Jamie, after a long and arduous road that was traveled with only a firm faith in Christ, now has forever her son. He joins another adopted son who is loved well by two amazing parents. I am thankful that I was there to see that adoption journey. It was truly a testament to how God cares for His own and carries His through even the most difficult days.)

I've put off writing this post for a long time. It's one of those I really don't even want to write this posts and can't see even now, as I press these keys, how it could have any positive effect. It's too hard to expose this part of my heart. Even now I pause to check email. Or scratch my nose. Or stare out the window. I'm thinking of how to pare it down until it's just a sketchy outline of what really wants to pour out.

I don't know why I do this to myself. Really. Except every time I do, God blesses the obedience.

Okay, so I was having lunch with a friend not too long ago. I was holding her foster son. Soon I found the words tumbling out. I told her I felt like I was experiencing my own brand of infertility. I surprised myself. Although I experienced a loss of an unborn baby and for 3 months didn't know if I'd get another baby, I would never ever even suggest that I know the heartache of a woman who desperately longs for a child. I honestly can't fathom that sadness. I walked that road in part with sweet friends, and I saw a minuscule portion of how hard that is.

So I want to be careful here. I'm not equating this with that.

I hear people say, though, "God, why did you give me the desire for a child and then seemingly not provide a way for me to receive a child? Take away the desire or give me a child."

Now that I can relate to. God stirred up in me a desire to have a child that I didn't give birth to.

So. You just wait. Right?

Yes. And I am fabulous in waiting. Fabulous.

I love the passion I see all around me in the awakening about adoption. Maybe it's just the church I go to. Maybe it's the friends I have. Maybe it's just part of my sanctification. Adoption is everywhere. And I am thankful. I am so so thankful. 

(And for a long time I tested my heart in front of God, making sure I didn't want to adopt just because it was trendy. Or just because "everyone" else was doing it. Or for any other reason that would not please God.) 

Every time I see a picture of a newly adopted child, my heart cries. Every time I see a friend's blog post about their journey in adoption, I feel the sweet sadness. And if you hand me a picture of the child you are in the process of adopting, chances are, I'll cry. Out of happiness and joy and thankfulness for your family and for that child and the future that child is rescued from. (Thank you, Lord, for adopting me into Your family to rescue me from my own destructive future.) Yes. And out of selfish longing too.

Because I'm selfish that way. Horribly and cruelly selfish. Something in me screams every time I see these things, "Lord, what about my child?" 

Because I'm selfish that way. 

It feels like another one of those open ended promises God gave me. "Here you go. Now trust me."

I wish He'd stop doing that. 

I think my kids already know. We'll pull up by a passenger van and Jude will say, "We're going to need that kind of van for all the kids we'll have..." 

What? I don't talk about this with them. How does he know? Why is it so much easier for him to believe.

I'll find pieces of paper where Laney has written things about the sister she's praying for. She'll get teary about it from time to time and will ask me straight out, "When will we get her?" I just whisper in her ear that we are trusting God. We take this to Him in prayer. I pray that He is caring for and teaching her in all this too.

So I wait. And try so hard to sort all of this out in a way that will in the end make me look more like His Son, please Him and teach me lessons that I won't ever forget. I see God demanding me to hand Him my trust issues. I feel Him pruning-always pruning. I cry at the pain and praise Him all at the same. 

Again. I'm thankful for those adopting and for those working so passionately to spread the word about adoption. It's such a beautiful picture of what God did for us and that in and of itself is a reason to involve ourselves in this amazing thing. 

(But I will stop short of saying that everyone should adopt. God said to care for the orphans, and I'm not sure that meant that you had to adopt one to do that. I will test my heart to see if I am caring for orphans in any and every way I can. Adoption is not the only way to do that. There are things we are all capable of doing outside of adoption and we are commanded to do that. James 1:27  Pure and undefiled religion in the sight of our God and Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world.)

And I know it's not easy. I've seen that first hand in more than one family. I see the hard. Even with a sweet family still in the birth country of their new family members right now, there is difficulty. I haven't romanticized this. It's hard. I know.

I doubt I did this issue justice, but I'm just glad to have this out of my head. It's still in my heart, but that's ok. That's where God put it. Pray that I'll trust Him. Pray that I'll wait well. Pray that no matter if I have 3 or 7 or 400 children, that I'll be content. Peaceful right where I am.

Grace and the Gospel

This (our church's) study on Acts has me in a perpetual state of deep contemplation. I even bought a People magazine the other night, in the vain hopes of shoving my brain into neutral. (It was telling how sensitive to things we become when we are away from them for awhile. I clutched my pearls with nearly each page turn. :) And it didn't work either. Luckily our ladies' study of Ruth has been a sweet refuge from the intensity of that first church, which I am thankful for-don't get me wrong. Intense, though. Bless you, Ruth. I love you so...)

It seems that once you start to study something, you find in everyday life nearly everything correlates in some way. At least I do. I think that's why I am so exhausted with all of this at the moment. Everything leads me back to Acts. This coming from me, the person who knows no balance, no restraint. It's no wonder I wear myself out. I can't pace my brain. 

That said, I read this article this morning, and it was a balm for that tired brain. My brain, that is. It reminded me that even in the most fundamental, most important thing about me-the very reason I'm left on this planet, there is grace. I ignore that so many times. I barge on, full steam ahead and then collapse into a heap of exhausted failure. When I fully realize that I can't do any of this in my own power, that will be a good day indeed. I remember that and forget that several times a day. Keep working, Lord. Please.

I am. I am not.

Another church post

Our search for a church was a hard one. I had a list of things I wanted in a church. (I'm just going to present all these facts like they are and not apologize for any of them. It's the new me.)

Here was my list:

1. Close to home and in my community
2. Not Baptist
3. Not too big. Or a smallish church, really
4. Good kid's program
5. Good music

There is probably more, like some parking lot nonsense or something equally as stupid. 

*sigh*

I didn't know much about our (now) church when we started looking for a church. Matter of fact, my sweet friend kept telling me to listen to this pastor's podcasts, but I didn't even know what a podcast was, much less have any desire to listen to one. She mentioned this one particular sermon I needed to listen to, and I kept ignoring her (which I never, ever do typically *ahem*) until...

The sermon she kept telling me to listen to was one about moral failure in the church.  I didn't want to listen for a long time. Our last church had struggled with this very issue, and finally I guess I just decided to give in and listen.

I mean, what could it hurt?

So I flipped on the computer and found the link. The screen came alive and for a few minutes I thought I had the wrong church. The guy I was looking at looked about 20. Maybe. I finally figured out that I was at the right place, and I sat back in my chair and crossed my arms. "I'll give it 10 minutes." I didn't think I'd need much more than that.

Remember, I'm just offering facts here, right?

I think it was at about the 7 minute mark where I uncrossed my arms, sat up in my chair and stopped giving this guy the stink eye. 

I rewound back to the beginning of the sermon, opened up my notebook and proceeded to take about 5 pages of notes. Maybe more. (I still have them, somewhere.)

I think something in my heart got hopeful that night. I got encouraged about the search for our next church. 

But I didn't want to go to this guy's church. It was big, far away, and in a community much different than my own. I had my list, remember?

When we started the actual church search, I told my husband that I wanted to go check this church out. I just needed to see this guy in action. I think I wondered if it was all real. If he was sincere. I thought if I could see it all in person, then I would know. I needed to see the building, the people, the worship and the way it all worked. I was just curious.

But, I reminded my husband, "I do not want to join there." I just wanted to visit.

So we did. We visited. And I wrote this later that day.

I still didn't want to join. Nope.

We visited other churches. We liked some. I wanted to join one.

We went back to this church. We visited again. On the way home, Allen said, "We're joining there."

I choked a little.

What? NO!

"I don't want to join there!" I sputtered. "Are you asking me if I want to join, or are you telling me?"

He shrugged. "We'll attend for a year and then join."

That was that.

But my list. What about my list?

*sigh* 

Oh, fine. 

I thought it was a risky move. But I said, "Fine." And I'm sure I was super kind about it too. :)

Although I am reveling in my solitude, my fatigue has now overtaken everything. There will now be a Part 2 of this epic post. And I'm quite sure that in 4 years, as I'm cleaning this blog up yet again, I'll think to myself, "Gosh, I rambled on forever..." As always.

Church

There is so much going on here. I need a good solid 4 hours alone, let me repeat - in solitude, with my computer to get all this stuff rolling around in my head out.

I say that a lot.

It's not totally my fault. We are in week 3 of an 11 week study on the book of Acts. 

I'm not sure I can do this for 11 weeks. My brain is exhausted.

Then my friend Matt writes this post the other day.

And I realized that 3 years ago tomorrow, I attended my first ever service at our now church. 

There is just a lot here. (Did I already say that?)

I'm trying to clean up and organize my blog, which let me say, is a task that has simply made me want to delete this whole thing. That is a whole other post right there, but goodness. This is a lot of nonsense, is mostly what this is. :)

Anyway.

As I was cleaning things up, I found this post. 

What do I want in a church?

I noticed that I didn't write "At what church does God want me?"

Yeah. The thing about going backwards with this blog is I see how far God has so patiently brought me. And I get ashamed at where I once was. I even blogged about that already (Blue like what?), so I'll just say, "That's where I was, this is where I am, and please, Lord Jesus, take me so much further on."

And He will. (And one day I'm going to look back on these posts and be so very embarrassed. I do realize that!)

But the funny thing is that I love that I wrote that post. The church one up there. Because I get to read that and see what God was getting my heart ready for. That's pretty amazing. 

It's been nearly 3 years since I first set a foot in my church. I've reflected so much on what those past 3 years have looked like. I honestly don't think I could ever really put it into words. 

 And I know my church isn't perfect. Really. I do. 

What I want to do, though, during this sweet little anniversary (because I'm a sentimental sap) is to just spend some time thanking God for leading us there; praying for my church, staff and elders; and for the body of believers that I worship with every Sunday.

(I mean humbly add that I do that anyway, but I want it to be more of a matter of concentrated prayer with celebration added in. If that makes any sense.)

And I'll work on my other church post now, since I have {{gasp}} quiet. And solitude. :)

Bizarre

I don't go to iTunes much, but I did today to purchase a song. I've never noticed their "Recommended for You" section. I did today, though.

I was puzzled a bit by their recommendations for me: 

Willie Nelson "On the Road Again" and Santana's "Black Magic Woman"?

(There is no reason at all for that picture, since it's unreadable, but I worked hard to get it there, so I'm leaving it.)

Ah, iTunes, you don't know me at all. There were a couple of songs I might have liked on there, but that's it. 

On a completely unrelated note, I'm considering buying Amos Lee's new album with my (hub's) iTunes gift cards. He doesn't seem to notice when I take the Starbucks or the iTunes gift cards. Merry Christmas to me!