Dangerous Surrender

I've had several people tell me this week that they've read and enjoyed my blog. I'm always surprised by this. Yeah, I know that my mom and my dad read my blog, but they're my parents...and they'll love me even if I write dumb stuff.

Now I'm suffering from a smidge of writers block because I've been reminded that people actually read what I write. I feel like I should be especially profound. Original profundity is escaping me, so I thought I'd borrow that of others. A book report should do: I'm reading 2 books right now, one is "Death by Suburb" by David L. Goetz, and the other is "Dangerous Surrender" by Kay Warren. They are quite different books but complement each other well.

The title of Goetz's book grabbed me at the first. It resonated. Almost instinctualy, I understood that something about my Mayberry-esque life keeps me at arms length from my Jesus. Goetz says it better, " I think my suburb, as safe and religiously coated as it is, keeps me from Jesus. Or at least...obscures the real Jesus. The living patterns of the good life affect me more than I know."

There is something wrong with a faith that costs me nothing. And, in my crime-free beige-tinted corner of suburbia, following Christ costs me very little. I would be tempted to grab a $4 latte on my way to church, but our church serves really good coffee and creamer for free. No need to worship at Starbuck's too.

This contrasts with my sister in Christ living in Nepal. She chose to follow Christ and was cut off financially by her Hindu husband. Now her children go to bed hungry. She worships with a handful of renegade believers in a small room that doubles as a children's home during the rest of the week. She sits on the floor with her sweaty, squirmy 3 year old on her lap. There is no children's program, and there is no caramel or hazelnut coffee creamer in sight. Her faith journey is a very different thing than mine. It has cost her much.

David Goetz lays out 8 spiritual disciplines that can be implemented to survive spiritually in the suburbs. I think they have merit, but ultimately I am skeptical of tips and tricks. They bring to mind those ads that promise "30 days to a thinner more fabulous you, AND you'll never be hungry. " Been there, done that, and my butt is as big as ever.

Enter Kay Warren stage right. Her book offers a more authentic if less palatable answer to spiritual comas. Basically, its her own story, her own "Dangerous Surrender." Kay Warren, is the wife of Rick Warren. Rick is the author of "A Purpose Driven Life" and pastor of Saddleback Church. Saddleback makes the top-ten list of who's who in Evangelical-dom. Kay always lived somewhat in the shadows of her well known husband. That is until her heart began to break for those touched by HIV-AIDS. Now she an outspoken advocate for HIV/AIDS victims.

Chapter 1 begins with this quote, "Much is required from those to whom much is given."

Kay writes this of her struggle to leave her comfortable suburban life, "After a month of anguished wrestling with God, I reached a point at which I had to make a conscious decision. Would I retreat to my comfortable life and to my settled plans, pretending I didn't know about the HIV/AIDS pandemic and the millions of orphans? Or would I surrender to God's call and let my heart engage with a cause I was pretty sure would include buckets of pain and sorrow?"

She writes, "For you to become a seriously disturbed, surrendered person of faith , you will have to be willing to say yes in advance - to give God your answer before you've heard the question. " So why would anyone want to become seriously disturbed? Why would this be a good thing? I contend that to become seriously disturbed is the only way to escape the soul-sucking quick sand of suburbia. Suburbia is based on Consumerism, the premise that stuff and comfort will satisfy. Trouble is...it doesn't... we are an insatiable people. There is always more stuff to have.

Becoming broken on behalf of another is the only way to escape ourselves. And ultimately it is the only authentic faith. James 1:27 say," Pure and lasting religion in the sight of God our Father means that we must care for orphans and widows in their troubles, and to refuse to let the world corrupt us. "

People who aren't Christ-followers find Christianity hollow because we are, on the whole, just as self-absorbed as everyone else, only more arrogant. But that's not Christ. He was broken for others; he was seriously disturbed. Isaiah 61 says, "The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is upon me, because the Lord has appointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to comfort the brokenhearted and to announce that captives will be released and prisoners will be freed. He has sent me to tell those who mourn that the time of the Lord's favor has come and with the day of Gods anger against their enemies." Social justice matters to Jesus. His heart breaks for the sick and needy. He sees those who are unseen, the ones who sit on the fringes of society, the weak and oppressed. If we are Christ followers we should care about them too.

Sometimes I am too consumed by what I should make for dinner or checking into the best Cub Scout's den to even notice the hurting world around me. I've got a virtual rainbow of paint chips on my kitchen counter. We're trying to decide what color to paint the exterior of our house. I can honestly say that I've spent more time thinking about paint chips than the plight of the needy. I'm suburban.

So as I the suburban mom of 4 kids the question becomes, "What does dangerous surrender look like for me?" If God called us to adopt again would I be willing to do it? And I think I get "loooks" in the grocery store now. We would definitely be "that family with all the kids" if we had 5, or heaven forbid, 6. We might even have to buy a white conversion van, or small school bus to haul us all around.

Would I move to Tanzania, or Kansas? Or would I forgo our vacation plans to sponsor a child in Haiti? Would I befriend a single mom, and provide free daycare? Would I let my roots grow out instead of getting new highlights so I could send a little extra cash to our Compassion kid in Columbia? What would Dangerous Surrender look like for a suburban mom like me? Has the life of Christ so touched me that, like Christ, I would suffer with those who suffer? Could I become a suburban freak for Jesus?

Two quotes to leave you with:

"Self-help is no help at all. Self-sacrifice is the way, my way to find yourself, your true self." -Luke 9:24 MSG

" Love is the way to maturity. Selfishness stunts growth and keeps us in a spiritual playpen." -Elizabeth Eliot," A lamp unto my feet"

time management what?

I would write a coherent blog, but I wasted all my time on Facebook. Now I'm pushing up against bedtime so ya all get today's dregs...

Bub went to the specialist...no real news...Bub looks great, but they want to continue watch him.

I met Baby's Adoption Worker today. E asked, "Mom how come there are 3 different social workers who visit us?" Good question. Bottomline=we're on track for adoption at this point. Side note= I came away from our meeting feeling slightly confused and off-kilter. At this point I'm blaming my confusion on the system, but then again it could have been me.

I don't like my haircut.

I need a pedicure.

I keep forgetting to schedule M's dentist appt., and I know she has 2 cavities. Does this make me a crappy mom?

Baby is saying a few words now...super cute!

My other children talk incessantly...less cute, but for the most part, still enjoyable.

Today, I planted poppies.

Some things I like about my Sweetie...

-He files our taxes.
-and organizes our tupperware
-and our coat closet
-and our junk drawer.

He not only brings home the bacon he also pays the bills on-line.

He makes Excel spreadsheets to determine our best anniversary trip.

He also mows our lawn in meticulously straight lines.

I know what you're thinking..."Wow, that guy should have been an engineer or an accountant or something." But I really, really like that my husband is a freak about the details. I am, shall we say, more "free-thinking" in my interpretion of what qualifies as organized. There is a usually a global sytem to the things I tackle, but the details tend to fall through the cracks. He's handy to keep around, that sweetie of mine. He kinda trails after me picking up the messes I make.

For instance, I'm a good cook. I tend to think of recipes as guidelines. Even while baking. Admittedly, this has ended disasterously on more than one occasion. Still, I'm a better than average cook. Sadly, tupperware organization completely escapes me. So every once in a while, when the situation becomes desperate, and I cannot open the tupperware cabinet without half a dozen containers without lids falling on me, Hubby rescues me. In ten minutes he's got it whipped into shape. All containers are neatly nested, and lids arranged by size and shape. Amazing! Heroic in my book.

God knew I needed a guy like him. He's the peanut butter to my jelly. He's the chocolate to my....well damn, chocolate goes with everything. That metaphor ain't gonna fly. You get the idea. I love that man.

Truth is...I'm a nerd

Today, I had a blessed day off;I haven't talked to a kid since 9:00 this morning. To my great delight, my husband messed up my plans by inviting me to lunch. I was going to clean the house, and a date with my sweetie was an easy sell.

So what have I done with the rest of my time off? Well, I was nearly giddy to discover that Hubby's new office is literally across the street from the Tattered Cover Book Store, and I had free parking. I just roamed through the stacks, and then I camped out in an antique chair flipping through a book I had no intention of buying. That place has got to be one of my favorite places on the planet. Next stop, the Christian Book Store, and now I'm at the library typing this. If 3 book stores in one day without any purchases doesn't qualify me for nerd status I don't know what would.

But if your still not sold I let you in on this little secret. When I was a student at CU I loved going to the library for fun. I particularly liked it on the 3rd floor of the literature stacks. There were a bunch of antique books and it just smelled old and dusty. I would find an empty corner and curl up with a good book, or even a mediocre one.

I've got to go get the kids in a few minutes and only have a few minutes more to look through stuff...

Today, I spilled things.

This morning I spilled a bunch of milk on the floor (and on baby's freshly bathed head) while trying to help a kid with cereal.

I spilled a bottle of Baby's milk in the fridge. Our salad dressing bottles are still milky.

Also, honey (a lot of it) spilled all over our spice pantry.

M spilled cereal all over the floor.

Then the kids' frozen yogurt fell out of the freezer and on to my toe. It hurt.

This all happened before breakfast was over. I should have just gone back to bed.

The day did not get any better. Baby cried and whined. The big kids bickered and whined. Everyone was generally oblivious to my needs.

Somewhere along the way in my family's history the term "filthy ingrates" was coined to describe children. Terrible, I know. But sometimes Hubby and I toss the term around to remind ourselves that our kids are, by nature, self-absorbed. We should expect it, and in some ways its a child's perogative to assume his needs will be met. The rub is that often kids expect their every whim to be attended to. It sucks to be a kid living at my house 'cause that just don't happen 'round these parts.

Anyway, after dinner I went up stairs to put Baby to bed and beat my head against the wall. When I came down I found my son had written this note:

"From E - To Mom: I am sorry!! I hope you lick my tret. (translation: I hope you like my treat). Will you forgive me?"

E had taken all of his change (and the kid loves money) and given it to me. For the record, I gave him the money back and told him his heart change, and sweet note meant so much to me I didn't need to have his money too.

I take it back about the "filthy ingrate" thing. These kids of mine are treasures. They are sensitive and kind and compassionate (and imperfect). So what if my floors are a little sticky and I have Rice Crispys imbedded in the bottoms of my feet. I wouldn't change my life for the world.

Pink, Peach and Amber

We ought to buy stock in Wal-mart. At least, we are doing our part to ensure that Wal-mart's pharmacy has a good second quarter. E's on Keflax, Baby's on Amoxicillin and Primsol. I'm doing my best to keep everybody's meds straight.

Making sure that the right kid gets the right meds at the right time in the right amount should get me some kind of mommy award. And I do it on limited sleep to boot.

Speaking of that, I'm tired. I'm gonna catch me some "z"s.

quick update...

-to our great irritation we have managed to crash another laptop

-we owe on our taxes (state and federal)

-E has an abscess from his baby tooth not falling out quickly enough...he's got a gigantic blister on his gum...it's gross...poor kid.

-I'm going to Estes with my girlfriends this weekend...hubby's got all the chillens'...poor hubby.

-you may not be hearing from me too frequently until I get some more reliable internet access...

Treasures lay waiting...

I cannot show you their faces. They are kids, and they deserve to be more than poster children for a cause. But you need to hear their stories.







Meet Zack. Fiesty 3 year old, and amazing swimmer. Brother to William and Natalie. If you were to take the time to look you might notice a scar above Zack's lip on the warm tones of his asian face. Cleft lip...repaired in a geriatric hospital somewhere in remote China. Abandoned at birth. Considered unadoptable by the Chinese government. And yet...Zack is snuggled in the arms of his fair skinned mother tonight. Chosen and dearly loved. A miracle happened in the hearts of a woman and a man. And a boy (who at 2 did not even know his name) runs when he is called by his mom. He has scars on his hips from being left in a walker too long by overworked nannies, but the scars on his little heart are fading as the balm of a father's protection and a mother's tender love are worked into the hardened places.



Zack



I would tell you her name. But I don't know it, for she was never given one. She was abandoned in a field by a desperate woman. Only hours old she cried out to be held, and to suckle at her mother's breast. But no one came. She died there in the field.



She had no name.



And then there is Gabreille. Her birth mother gave her a name that meant whore, and tried to kill her with a fork and knife hidden under the matress of her hospital bed. She was rescued by Social Services. Today she has a new name, and a new life, and she does not know her old name. Her brown eyes sparkle with laughter as she is tickled by her siblings. She is chosen and dearly loved.



Gabrielle



So many children, so many stories. Many of their names I do not know. But there is a little girl out there toddling around with her new mommy. She was five months old when she was taken into state custody and placed with a foster family. X-rays were performed at a doctors visit and that is when it was discovered her legs, both of them, had been broken. Twice. She was five months old.







DO NOT MOVE THE ANCIENT BOUNDARY STONE,



OR ENCROACH ON THE FIELDS OF THE FATHERLESS



FOR THEIR DEFENDER IS STRONG



HE WILL TAKE UP THIER CASE AGAINST YOU!







Today, there are children digging through trash cans in Denver, looking for their next meal.






Today, in Nepal a girl child, just 18 months old, has been left at the temple gates to
"serve the gods". She will be a prostitute, molested before the day is done.



Today Guatamala is closing its doors to international adoption and there are many thousands of her children languishing in orphanges. Children like Regan. He's been home for awhile now, adopted before beauracracy got in the way. He was 1, and his mom says that when he first came home he would curl up in her arms and cry. Rage. He had no words for the lonliness and abandonment he felt those many months of his young life. When he was finally safe in the arms of his mom, he mourned the only way a baby knows how. But the time for mourning is past, and Regan has a new name. He was chosen, and is dearly loved.







A FATHER OF THE FATHERLESS, A DEFENDER OF THE WIDOWS.



IS GOD IN HIS HOLY HABITATION.



GOD SETS THE SOLITARY IN FAMILIES;



HE BRINGS OUT THOSE WHO ARE BOUND INTO PROSPERITY.







"There are more than 70 million orphans in the world. At least 35,000 children under the age of five die every day as a result of malutrition or starvation , and there are at least one million children suffering under the oppression of forced prostitution. At least 100 million children are involved in child labor, and 1.5 million children are currently infected with AIDs. "



-Thomas Davis, from Fields of the Fatherless







BUT WHOEVER HAS THIS WORLD'S GOODS AND SEES HIS BROTHER IN NEED AND SHUTS UP HIS HEART FROM HIM, HOW DOES THE LOVE OF GOD ABIDE IN HIM - I



JOHN 3:16-17







PURE AND FAULTLESS RELIGION IS THIS, TO LOOK AFTER ORPHANS AND WIDOWS IN DISTRESS. JAMES 1:27





To look across across the fields of the fatherless is to become overwhelmed with need. So many little lives. But look into the face of children like Zack or Regan, or Gabrielle, and see hope. They are real children, rescued from the fields of the fatherless and at home safe in their mother's arms.





Treasures lay waiting in the fields of the fatherless. Will you go and search them out? Will you rescue a child, and in so doing grab hold of a treasure more valuable than you can imagine?

Death By Peanut Butter Cookies and Other Forms of Idolatry

There's Prozac, Zoloft and Lexapro, and then there is peanut butter chocolate chip cookies. Somewhere in my warped little mind I believe, I mean I truly believe, that cookies are the world's best antidepressants. I know this is technically untrue, but you sure wouldn't know from my behavior. When depression strike and prescription antidepressants aren't cutting it - I bake. Cookies. Pumpkin Bread. Pumpkin chip muffins. I'm a big fan of pumpkin infused baked goods. The sugar rush works for a few minutes, my serotonin levels spike and then crash. And when I come down off my sugar high I feel sick and ....well chubby.

Dave, our pastor, is preaching through Colossians. Today, he unraveled Colossians 3.

"Put to death, therefore, whatever belongs to your earthly nature: sexual immorality, impurity, lust, evil desires and greed, which is idolatry" Dave read. May Dave stub his little toe; I don't need that kind of conviction in my life. Okay, maybe I do. (God please protect Dave's little toes.)

My baked good dependency is idolatry. You aren't convinced? If you define idolatry as looking to illegitimate sources to meet legitimate needs then cookie addiction is, in fact, idolatry. There is a real chemical jacked-upness going on in my brain when I struggle with depression. Medication helps - and I am pro medication. But God is my healer and my source of peace. A cookie will never do, even a peanut butter chocolate chip one. Alas, pumpkin bread cannot heal, nor can brownies. And when I run to my pantry instead of my Jesus I've got a problem.

Dave says that putting off things that lead to death, and putting on life is a discipline that must be practiced. He got it from the Bible, so it's gotta be true. Minute by minute, hour by hour, I must learn to walk in the grace offered me. I must look to Jesus as my healer, and my source. Cookies lead to death, or at least diabetes, heart disease and too snug blue jeans.

My life is in Christ.

For me death comes by way of cookies. What's it for you? What do you fill you longings with? Is it TV, or video games? Do you believe in mall therapy? Or are you a control freak?

This is what the Bible says,

12Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. 13Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. 14And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.
15Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful. 16Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom, and as you sing psalms, hymns and spiritual songs with gratitude in your hearts to God. 17And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.