Category: Jesus

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A Forgotten Humanity

I’ve been wondering lately if Jesus would have voted if He were an American citizen.

I’ve been wondering if or how He would partake in the rhetoric that has become so normalized. Humanity at its finest. Blame. Accusation. Defense. Disbelief. Mockery. Meanness. Entitlement. Superiority.

Perhaps it’s a classic case of just needing to look at my 1990s W.W.J.D. bracelet… but, I really have wondered what role He would assume in our current culture. Because that has some bearing on how, when, or if I do (or don’t) get involved. It’s as though politics, pandemics, movements, and impossible-to-please-everyone decisions have stripped people of their humanity. And we have forgotten that on the other side of a policy, or a protest, or a political party, or a television screen, or a social media post, or a decision we don’t like… that there are real people with real souls.

It feels somewhat ironic, given the causes (or people) we are often fighting for.

Oh, I thought the Bible said…

But somehow, our […hatred, harsh words, thoughts, opinions…] are justified. As if we are living as though Scripture says, “Value others above yourselves…except if you disagree with them, if they offend you, or if they seem ignorant. Then it’s okay to disregard them, speak poorly of them, and assume you are better than them.”

Or, “Love only the people who are just like you, the ones who you agree with, get along with… you know, the ones who look like you, believe like you, vote like you, and act like you. It doesn’t matter if you love anyone else. Those other people, they aren’t worth saving or caring about.”

Because we are the ones who are “right” and that begins to matter abundantly more than the people. Whether it’s our stance, our prejudices, our experiences, our knowledge, our understanding of the issue at hand, the way we are personally impacted… somehow this provides us with a “truth” that excuses us from kindness, grace, and love. It becomes perfectly acceptable to think or make generalized (and sometimes atrocious) statements about groups of people and/or individuals.

How do I be a Christian right now?

It’s been a baffling season to live in as a Christian. Maybe for you, too.

I wonder if I’m not doing enough, or saying enough, or being enough – or maybe I’m doing too much. I am often in disbelief that I can claim the same identity as another (a child of God) and yet when we are both looking at a square, I see a circle and they see a triangle. How can this be? What am I missing?

I’ve struggled with the lack of unity that grows more apparent each day. Is there any room in this world to disagree on politics, or the economy, or how to stand up against injustice, or decisions that are made… but still hold one another in high regard, to show honor, to heap blessings upon the other? Is there any thought of (or desire for) harmonious living?

I have been overwhelmingly challenged lately to check my heart, ever-aware of the judgment and disbelief that so readily surfaces. “I can’t believe she would say that… or believe that… or do that…”, “He is such a…”, “Don’t these idiots know that…?”

I am ruined

And when I look deeply within, I am ashamed at what I encounter. A spirit of pride. A feeling that I am “right”, and that I know “better”. Criticism, doubt, anger. An inability to see people as image-bearers of the Most High God. Woe to me…I am ruined!

For me to forget that I am just as human, just as fallible, just as broken… just as in need of saving grace as the person posting to my right or to my left. How dare I? How dare I forage for the ounce of disagreeableness within you while I carry a hefty load of filth within me (a load that I conveniently choose to ignore, or dismiss as ‘not as big a deal’). How mortifying that I might condemn you, but be so unwilling to admit that I could be wrong…

Have I forgotten what I have been saved from? Have I lost sight of the depth, the weight, the gravity of my sin… ? Do I remember that blood was shed to set me…us…free? Have I forgotten the Gospel?!

What a disgrace to think that I might know you well enough to know what you have been through and how that shapes your worldview. What ignorance for me to assume that my way, my understanding, my perspective is right or truth. What pride, when I refuse to really hear you or care for you, even if we don’t see the world in the same way. What shame, that I am willing to judge your actions when I cannot possibly know what decisions you have been forced to make.

I am sorry.

Will you forgive me? Will you forgive the harsh or insensitive words that I have spoken or written? Can you somehow put my grossly judgmental thoughts in the past and trudge through our differences to find a place where we can see each other as humans once again (or, maybe, for the first time)?

Can we find the time and space to care about each other? To know each other? To move past the assumptions and exist in a world where we both strive to find common ground?

And, Jesus, will You forgive me, too?

As I consider You, the Triune God who is sovereign in all things, I fall on my face… undeserving of your grace. I bring pride, selfishness, self-righteousness, and, often, an unwillingness to love my brothers and sisters – the ones You call sons and daughters. But Lord, if I know anything about Your call on my life, it’s that I cannot claim to love you and not love others. You even ask me to love my enemies… the people who laugh at my failures, the ones who smile at my pain. The ones who have caused me deep pain. The very people I want to hate.

So Father, teach me how to love. Show me how. Help me do it when I cannot on my own. May You find me willing, ready, and actively seeking to show Your love in this world, during a time when humanity feels so divided…. so…. forgotten.

Yeah, but he’s still a…

And Lord, help me to actively confess my pride, my judgments, my condemnation of others and their opinions/actions/words when it surfaces. Help me to do so, even when I feel under attack. Even if I have to do it over and over and over again.

There is no world in which I believe You condone those thoughts, those accusations, those words toward or about others – regardless of what they say, write, believe, or do. Show me how rid myself of any excuse or justification of sin or ill-will toward others. To live with the type of humility that Christ did. To be a person who, in addition to love, brings joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control to those around me. Give me wisdom on how to act, think, and speak in today’s world.

God, have mercy on me, a sinner.

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I Will Never Regret Following

We waffled a bit on if we should even do foster care. On a random Sunday, on a random fall day, I got in the car after church and told Kel I felt like it was something we should do. That same day, we inquired with our county and eventually nosed ourselves into the foster care system. I wish I could say that it had been smooth and easy. Maybe it’s better that it’s not. It weeds people out.

Despite the perceived flaws, we did walk away from our training certain that if we were trying to adopt a newborn, foster care wasn’t the route we should be taking. They did a great job of reiterating, over and over again, that babies are rarely (if ever) adopted by their foster parents. We heard story after story of heartbreak – foster parents in the process of adoption only to have a grandparent show up out of nowhere and take custody of the child. Basically they were saying: Don’t get your hopes up, people. This isn’t about you building up your idyllic family. This is hard. This hurts. This never turns out the way you think it will. But these kids need you. Will you let them in? Will you love them? Will you champion efforts to help kids be reunited to their biological families?

We decided to keep moving forward. As Kel and I talked and prayed, our hearts grew excited about the prospect of being a safe home for a small child, even if only for a season. We looked forward to the relationships we might have with biological parents, we looked forward to helping make reunification happen. We knew we didn’t know much, but we were willing to jump in. Our steps were deliberate. Slow, but deliberate.

We began the initial inquiry in October of 2018. We didn’t hear back until right around Thanksgiving (after reaching out a few more times). Our training began in December. There was some paperwork to turn in, fingerprinting, background checks. And then there was quiet. Eventually a third party reached out to complete our home study. A woman came out three different times in May and asked us lots of personal questions – we locked up our chemicals and covered our outlets. On July 12, 2019 – this same woman informed us that our home study was approved by the county.

The silent treatment from the county dragged on, so we began to get the impression that foster care wasn’t going to happen. Everything was turned in, the home study approved…but still nothing. Children, in any capacity, didn’t seem a likely part of our future.

So, I moved on. I had to. I went to California to help my family out. I remember my brother and sister-in-law being very concerned with how this would interrupt our foster care journey. I assured them that it was fine. Given our track record, nothing was likely to happen. You might say I had given up.

No words can explain the shock we felt when we discovered that we were, indeed, certified foster parents… on the same day we were asked to take in a baby. On August 29, 2019, I received a text that would alter life as we knew it. Are you interested in a placement? Oh, by the way, your certification is in the office – dated mid-July.

Maybe you can understand why we were so humbled and blown away by the amount of support we received from our community, our friends, and our family to help us prepare for the arrival of a tiny newborn in the matter of a few hours. We literally had nothing and knew nothing.

I’ll never forget the frantic calls to my mom and sister-in-law: Hey, we just got asked to take a baby… yes, somehow we’re certified. What if I don’t come back to California in two days- how bad would that be? Or the texts to my neighbors who had baby girls: Hi, um, do you have any tiny newborn clothes or baby things we could use… immediately? We don’t even know what we need, but if you think we need it- we probably do.

I’ll never forget the mad dash to Target – attempting to pick out the best diapers, formula, wipes and carseat without any prior research. We waited near the check-out with a full cart… waiting for the text that said – yes, come get this baby girl. We wrestled with our newly purchased carseat in the parking lot, too stubborn to read directions, too anxious to process what was happening. We may have exchanged sharp words as a result (I can’t really remember that part…).

When we accepted her placement that morning, there was little hope of this being a forever home. Because, adopting a newborn from foster care rarely happens. If I knew anything, it was that. But, from those first conversations with case workers, adoption had always seemed plausible. “You all are a concurrent home, right?” [That basically means when we signed up for foster care, we had also chosen the path of possibly taking a child in forever, in case reunification wasn’t an option. In those instances, it helps limit the transition a child has to go through and provides them with some continuity.]

It’s been exactly one year since we picked Baby K up from the county office (which feels a bit unbelievable to me!). As the months have passed, we have waited… and waited… and waited. There have been shifts in her case that have felt momentous, but they only lead to more waiting.

Sometimes it’s hard to hope. But it’s just as hard to imagine her being anywhere else. And while I have often wondered what it’s “supposed” to feel like to be a mom, I know that I am hers. In my darkest moments, I find myself in the cage of worst-case-scenarios – trapped by the certainty that we will be in this sort of purgatory forever. The assurances from lawyers and case workers can often feel empty.

Because this is what I signed up for. A safe place for a child, for a season. No guarantee of permanence. No promise of forever.

But then you’re given a 5-pound baby and you keep her alive. Over time, she changes you. You get introduce her to the world. You celebrate her victories as she proudly learns to roll over, crawl, stand up on her own, take her first steps, and scream “da-da!”. She reaches out for you when she cries, she holds you tighter in a room full of strangers. You put her to bed, night after night – yours is the last voice she hears each day, and the first each morning.

You are her parents – the only ones she has ever known. You are the ones teaching her about life.

You love her – more than you ever thought possible.

And yet, you still might be asked to let her go.

Let her come in. Then let her go.

To be faithful with what we are given each day. In this case, the sweetest and craziest of babies.

The most selfish parts of my heart hope I don’t have to know that pain, but it’s a reality I do not control.

Regardless of the outcome, I will never regret following the gentle urging that spiraled us into the foster care system. I will never regret saying yes. I will never regret the waiting. Because, ultimately, even the waiting means more time with her. More precious time… time that should not be wasted.

And as I reflect on the last year of becoming instant parents, I can only plead with you: Follow the promptings, friends. The small voice that pleads with you to love and know God more…and to love and know His people.

No matter how crazy. No matter how scary. No matter how much it MAY hurt. No matter how inconvenient. No matter how much it may cost you. No matter how imperfect the system. I think you’ll be surprised by what (and who) you will find when you pay heed.

Simple obedience can sometimes lead to the greatest of blessings. Whether it’s a woman who stays for a few weeks, or a baby who stays for a year (hopefully more)… a random conversation with a random stranger, a small act of kindness that feels out of the blue to the most unlikely of humans. Faithful walking. It is our calling.

These are the moments that change us. The moments that reflect Jesus to those around us. Moments of great sacrifice, generosity, selflessness… as we learn to get over ourselves, our needs, our privacy, our desires… and walk more faithfully.

Mishpat [a Hebrew word for justice in the Old Testament], then, is giving people what they are due, whether punishment or protection or care… God loves and defends those with the least economic and social power, and so should we. This is what it means to ‘do justice’.

Tim Keller, Generous Justice

Disclaimer: I can’t possibly know what is needed or even supposed to happen on county side of things in the foster care system. I can’t possibly know the amount of work or time or frustration that county workers experience on the day-to-day (especially as they deal with impatient people like me). All I am writing about is our side of the exchange and how it impacted us. My goal is not to bash the foster care system or any individuals we have worked with-I know we don’t know what it’s like on their side of it and the challenges they are up against. I am ultimately so thankful for it/them!

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Does Jesus Hate You?

‘I was a virgin because I love Jesus and now Jesus hates me.‘

April, from Grey’s Anatomy, says this to Jackson the morning after their intimate night together. It’s one of those lines that makes me cringe…. and it’s one of those lines that gets broadcasted all over the world.

Is this how Jesus is viewed?

Unfortunately, I think it is a lot of times. Not only by the world, but by Christians. And I think this statement is evidence of our lack of understanding who Jesus really is.

Honestly, I’ve probably felt like this a bit myself in times when I’ve knowingly sinned. That my sin causes Jesus to hate me. The guilt is too overwhelming. There’s no way I can ever be forgiven of this (whatever ‘this’ is at the time). It’s especially worse when I’ve chosen to sin, knowing it was sin. I can’t get by with a, ‘Oh, I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean to’ type of confession. Instead, I must throw myself at His feet… acknowledging my unworthiness, acknowledging how undeserving I am of grace and forgiveness.

But to honestly think that He hates me?
It seems absurd and contrary to everything I read about Christ in Scripture.

Remember the woman at the well?
Or the woman caught in adultery?
Or the prostitute that washes His feet?
Or the disciples that had given their lives to follow Him and then betrayed Him in an instant?

Where is the hate, then?

How do we go from reading this about Jesus to believing something false about who He is? Where does the disconnect happen?

It makes me wonder how interested we are in even wanting to know who Jesus is, or if we’re more caught up and consumed by who we are, what we do, our guilt, our freedom, ourselves. It’s almost as if we take our own feelings of guilt and despair and because we don’t know what to do with those emotions, it’s easier to make false statements like, ‘Jesus hates me’.

‘Cause sometimes it’s easier to think that Jesus hates us when we do something wrong than to think that He still loves us even when we do something wrong.

Think about it.
We have this mentality that demands justice be done.
When we do something wrong to someone else, it sometimes seems easier if we pay the price for what we’ve done wrong to them. If they let us off the hook, there’s this feeling of debt that we have toward them.

Do we feel like that about Christ?
That there’s this debt that’s been paid that we’re constantly trying to pay back…. but we never can… because we’re never good enough?

Does God hate sin? Yes. He has to… He’s too holy to even have it exist in His presence. But does He ever hate us?
It’s completely contrary to the Gospel.

Soon I’ll probably talk about this whole cliche of ‘loving the sinner, but hating the sin’ that we spout of quite regularly. But, for now… I’ll agree that it’s true of Christ. That while we may not be able to separate the two in our human little minds, I believe Jesus is fully capable of loving us despite our sin. He is able to see us and know us beyond anything that we do or think or say…. and love us.

That’s the Jesus I’m interested in knowing. The one that contradicts everything I think I know about how we are naturally wired… the one who came so that we might live.

Who is the Jesus that you know?
One that hates you because you messed up? ‘Cause that Jesus doesn’t exist…

Seek to know Him today for who He is. The one full of mystery, power, healing… and love.

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