Martin Luther King, Jr.’s Most Powerful Weapon

Written in January 2018: 
“I have a dream…”. These four simple words trigger a reaction from almost every American as we immediately consider the man who boldly declared them and the impact of the Civil Rights Movement on our country. Martin Luther King, Jr. stands out in history as a figure who activated change and is uniquely known by all citizens, whether Christian or not, as a man who remained true to his personal convictions towards social justice and non-violent resistance. What most fail to realize are how deep these convictions ran and how much more to the man there was beyond these four simple words. While many have fought the battles of social injustice, what sets King apart from all the rest was his utter devotion to Jesus Christ. This paper will first reveal King’s growing passion for God and civil rights during his formative years, his deep roots in prayer and the understanding of Scripture, and how, as a result, social justice and non-violent resistance became non-negotiable components of his faith.

Formative Years
“Of course I was religious. I grew up in the church. My father is a preacher, my grandfather was a preacher, my great-grandfather was a preacher, my only brother is a preacher, my daddy’s brother is a preacher. So I didn’t have much choice.” King’s journey with religion started at a young age as his childhood revolved in and around the church. While the core tenants of his faith would be shaped over the course of his life, especially during college and seminary, he traced his family as a strong influencer in his early years. It was in his youth that he would be introduced to the Lord, gain a very basic understanding of social injustices in America, and begin to learn how these two things needed to interact with each other in order to live out the Gospel more fully.

King’s initial understanding of the Lord was sprung from his own experiences with his family—and since his family was filled with closeness and love, it was only expected that his view of the Lord would be that of a loving Father. However, King’s walk down the aisle as a five-year-old to join the church had more to do with keeping up with his sister than it did about what the Lord was doing in his heart and life. He would quickly grow out of this and begin to find a second home in the church. Both of King’s parents played a pivotal role in teaching and training him up to be a man that was not only devout in his relationship with God, but also in his quest for equality. King described in his autobiography how, as a young boy, his mother attempted to explain the injustices of racial segregation and, while the world may seem against them, he was to believe that he was “as good as anyone”.

King’s father also taught him significant values when it came to equality, as he was a man driven by a deep sense of integrity and morals. He not only spoke with conviction and, oftentimes, bluntness, but he was a man who lived boldly out of this conviction. King recounts a story in his youth that was quite formative in his mind, telling readers of a time when his father chose to walk out of a shoe store rather than be moved to the back of the store, out of sight of the large windows in the front where anyone walking by could have spotted them. Instances like these would continue to shape and challenge King’s perspective on this interaction between his faith, the world around him and how he ought to live in the midst of a broken, fallen, and unequal world.

Even as a 14-year-old, King was figuring out that the things he was discovering on his Christian journey were a sharp contrast to the reality that he was living. “We cannot be truly Christian people so long as we flout the central teachings of Jesus: Brotherly love and the Golden Rule,” King wrote in an oratory contest that he won. The more he learned about the Lord and Scripture, the more he was convinced that his reality (and America’s reality) needed to change. A trip to Connecticut right before college gave King a new and eye-opening perspective on America—not all of it was segregated. In the north, King was given freedoms that he had never had and this discrepancy contributed even more to the animosity toward racial inequality that was growing in his heart.

King’s faith in the Lord was steadfast except for a short stint in college where he received opportunities to challenge the teachings of his youth and process through the inconsistencies he saw in the African American churches. To him, they were highly emotional and most of the pastors had no seminary education. As he began to wonder if religion could be “intellectually respectable” as well as “emotionally satisfying”, his skepticism would lead him deeper into his studies of Scripture and other philosophers and theologians. His discoveries, as well as his encounters and friendships with stand-up and respectable ministers in college, would free him to see that the two concepts were compatible and lead him to pursue a career in the ministry. King wrote:

I guess the influence of my father had a great deal to do with my going into the ministry. This is not to say that he ever spoke to me in terms of being a minister but that my admiration for him was the great moving factor. He set forth a noble example that I didn’t mind following. I still feel the effects of the noble moral and ethical ideals that I grew up under. They have been real and precious to me, and even in moments of theological doubt I could never turn away from them.

Without these formative years being filled with truths about God’s character while also tackling the challenges of being heavily immersed in racial inequality at the time, it is unlikely that King would have developed the habits he did as he began to pursue his seminary degree, and then his doctorate, which would lead him to his pastoral job and eventually his central role in the Civil Rights Movement. His course of study would cause him to reflect on the teachings of Henry David Thoreau, Plato, Aristotle, Rousseau, Hobbes, Bentham, Mill, Locke and many more. He eventually encountered the teachings of Gandhi and his already developing ideas and passion for non-violent resistance were affirmed in a way that he had not yet studied. Gandhi’s words challenged King and allowed him to set his reform model into motion—with an emphasis on love and nonviolence rooted in the teachings of Christ. This model would be the driving force of King’s efforts throughout his life.

Prayer
Now that we have seen how King’s youth shaped his spirituality, forming a steady foundation to his passion for social justice, this paper will show the large emphasis that King placed on the necessity of prayer, understanding Scripture, and his response to both of these foundations in such a way that resulted in action.

Prayer was a vital component of King’s spiritual life and a source of strength throughout the many tribulations he experienced. It was not only something that King grew to be deeply committed to, but something that he was urged to engrain into his life by his father: “You see young man you are becoming very popular. As I told you you must be much in prayer. Persons like yourself are the ones the devil turns all of his forces aloose to destroy.” This exhortation to King may have produced seeds that caused him to rely on prayer in a way that not only affected his own spiritual life, but the lives of those around him. In fact, King referenced the importance of praying often and there is evidence of that sprinkled throughout his speeches, sermons, writings, and interviews.

For King, this discipline did not arise from a few years in seminary, but out of the depths of the African traditions that were passed down to him through his family. These traditions taught that prayer for his ancestors was “…much more than the heart and soul of a religion, or an essential aspect of spirituality; it was a necessary ingredient in the total experience of living.” Prayer was a faith component that King relied on and he spurred others to do the same (although, of course, not without action to accompany it). He had a habit of a regular evening prayer and was committed to this time in conversation with the Lord.

One particular story that King tells in his sermon, Our God is Able, reveals the impact that his relationship with the Lord had on him and his pursuit of non-violent resistance. He describes in great detail receiving a threatening phone call and being on the verge of quitting all of his efforts in the Civil Rights Movements. He did not feel like he had the strength to carry on and, in earnest, honest conversation with the Lord, he prayed: “I am here taking a stand for what I believe is right. But now I am afraid. The people are looking to me for leadership, and if I stand before them without strength and courage, they too will falter. I am at the end of my powers. I have nothing left. I’ve come to a point where I cannot face it alone.”

He goes on to describe the divine interaction that took place that evening, as he experienced a sense of peace and resolution in God’s presence. This is just one example of many revealing how often King communed with the Lord and was encouraged, comforted and inspired to do even greater things for the Kingdom of God. One can see that these conversations were both honest and sincere and allowed for transformation to happen in King’s mind and heart as he perpetually pursued transformation in the world around him. These were the prayers of a man who insisted that, “…a dynamic prayer life is essential for any social movement.”

Understanding Scripture
In addition to prayer, it is necessary to realize that Martin Luther King, Jr. was not just a leader in the Civil Rights Movement, but also a reverend that preached many sermons that required him to be very familiar with Scripture. These encounters with the Bible shaped not only the words that he spoke and wrote, but also the philosophies that guided his life. He was directed by the teachings he found in the word of God and held them to be true, even in the midst of such inequality. During his interview at Dexter Avenue Baptist Church, before preaching, King found himself saying, “Keep Martin Luther King in the background and God in the foreground and everything will be all right. Remember you are a channel of the gospel and not the source.” King’s focus was always on God’s agenda, not his own and he knew it was necessary to be well-versed in Scripture in order to communicate that to others.

If one reads or listens any of Martin Luther King, Jr.’s sermons, they will quickly notice how prevalent Scripture is in them. A lot of Scripture even directly influenced his prayer life, as many of his prayers are filled with Old and New Testament references. The more he studied the Bible, coupled with his quest after other great philosophers and reformers before him, the more his life was impacted and changed. King considered the Bible to be an authoritative source, although he primarily preached from the New Testament. One sermon King delivered was Paul’s Letter to the American Christians. Using Paul’s epistles as a reference, King molded a letter (in the form of a sermon) in modern day terms to speak to the American people in a way that would hopefully cause them to consider how their actions were reflecting those of the often-scorned recipients of Paul’s letters. Through this unique role, King not only addressed the negative idols that America had latched onto (capitalism, materialism, and sectarianism), but he also brought out the concept of nonviolence “using Christian symbols and imagery.” One particular witness, Henry H. Mitchell, of this speech wrote about the power of event and King’s impact on the audience:

…his delivery started slowly and never gained speed or volume, but it gripped and held this audience of ten thousand or more…We hung over the balcony rail and wept unashamedly. When he quietly announced the pro forma, ‘I must close now,’ the sea of black Baptists arose as one and protested.

Not only were his sermons rooted in Scripture, but his speeches as a Civil Rights leader were also laced with Biblical text and they were captivating. Clayborne Carson, in his introduction to A Knock at Midnight writes that King’s speeches “combined spiritual inspiration and social analysis, careful preparation and extemporaneous insightfulness.” While King’s speeches were founded in the teachings of Christ and spoken through this Biblical basis, his voice was powerful among Christians and non-Christians alike. This gave him ample opportunity to live out his faith in a way that affected a large array of people not only across the entire country and but also many years after his death.

Non-violent Resistance
Through King’s steadfast upbringing, dedication to prayer and involvement in Scripture, he knew that his life must also reflect the truths that were being realized within. His spirituality was founded in action, as he was deeply convicted that he must live out the very things he was claiming from the pulpit or podium. Non-violent resistance in the face of the Civil Rights Movement would not only become a reform strategy, but it would become an identifying factor of his personal faith in Jesus Christ and his convictions to live out of that fully.

As already discussed, King’s progression in his faith and also his interactions with social injustice led him down a path of deep soul searching and researching the many had gone before him as he attempted to make sense of the world that didn’t seem quite right. The shame, humiliation and the feelings of being “less than” seemed contrary to the Scriptures he was growing more familiar with and, the more he learned, the more his findings would spur him into action. One of King’s first pushes for social change involved the Montgomery bus boycott in 1955. Coretta Scott King, King’s wife, wrote in the foreword of Strength to Love that this boycott is where King “first actively combined theology with social change.”

In King’s sermon, “Love in Action”, he spent some time attempting to communicate the fullness of Luke 23:34, “Then said Jesus, Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.” In this sermon, King was encouraging the forgiveness of those who have wronged us, saying that this is “love at its best.” This mentality moved the sermon swiftly into loving our enemies and the power that can result when a person takes a nonviolent, loving stance over one of violent confrontation. His sermon on “Loving your Enemies” told a story about Abraham Lincoln who, rather than choosing to treat his arch-enemy with contempt, chose, instead, to appoint him as his Secretary of War. King stated, “If Lincoln had hated Stanton both men would have gone to their graves as bitter enemies. But through the power of love Lincoln transformed an enemy into a friend.”

This attitude of love, even despite the opposition of hate, is one that drove King to his nonviolent methods. In his quest for eliminating social evil, King found himself adopting various positions and ideals from different philosophers. He landed in a place of allowing the “Christian doctrine of love” to be simultaneously operated with the “Gandhian method of nonviolence”, believing it to be “one of the most potent weapons available to an oppressed people in their struggle for freedom.” It was during the Montgomery bus boycott that King finally got to live out this intellectual concept and see how this was not just a nice sounding principle to talk about, but it was something he was committed to living his life by. In fact, if King had simply defined his spirituality by prayer and an understanding of Scripture, he would have been incomplete. Nonviolence resistance that moved him (and the world) forward in the fight for equality was something that was necessary to his spirituality—something that allowed him to truly live out the things he said he believed. “‘You must do more than pray and read the Bible’ to destroy segregation and second-class citizenship,’ the local newspaper reported [King] as saying; ‘you must do something about it.”’

Conclusion
Martin Luther King, Jr. created many waves during the 1960s in the face of racial segregation and social injustice. While many Americans only know a limited (maybe even face value) version of the man who fought in the Civil Rights Movement and helped spur on the quest for equality, there is much more to the man than most realize. King was driven by a deep spirituality—a faith in Jesus Christ that moved him to action. His life was committed to prayer, understanding and teaching Scripture, and a commitment to nonviolent resistance in the form of love when faced with opposition. He taught from this, lived out of this, and impacted the lives of many, as a result. Carson remarks that, “King saw his religious identity as his ‘being’ and ‘heritage’…”, more than any type of Civil Rights’ leader.

From the time King was a young boy, he found his home in the church, identified with the deep roots of African traditions that molded his own prayer rhythms throughout his life, and all of this gave him opportunity to examine Scripture in such a way that moved him toward radical action. These are the fundamentals of what drove Martin Luther King’s spirituality and, as a result, his way of life. The two are intrinsically connected, unable to be separated.

The non-negotiable components of King’s faith (and life) were wrapped up in his upbringing, prayer-life, understanding of the Bible, and his nonviolent resistance methods. Without those fundamentals, he wouldn’t have been the man we remember, celebrate, and are challenged by today. Dr. Wyatt Tee Walker, King’s former Chief of Staff, wrote in the introduction to Rediscovering Lost Values, “Despite the now legendary oratorical gifts that King developed in his post-Montgomery career, first and foremost he was an unapologetic proclaimer of the Gospel of Jesus of Nazareth.” It seems that this would be the legacy King would have wanted to be remembered by: a man who not only challenged the status quo of his time, but did so because of Jesus Christ and what He stood for. King’s spirituality is worth knowing about and sharing with others as it can lead others back to Christ, as well as inspiring one to living a life of Christ-centered change in a fallen and broken world.


Appendix: Reflection

Researching Martin Luther King, Jr. was appealing to me, especially considering the stark contrast between he and I. Through this research, I hoped to learn, be challenged, be inspired, and be more aware of a man that I had grown up hearing and learning about. My initial curiosities about King arose from reading a few of the chapters in Strength to Love prior to our class. If I had reached into the recesses of my mind, I might have been able to recall certain facts about the Civil Rights leader that I had learned in elementary school. What I wouldn’t have ever recalled (perhaps because I had never learned it) was his faith and deep commitment to Scripture, prayer and living his life out of the fullness of that. The more I read, the more I learned, was challenged, inspired and more aware of who this man was and why he lived the way he did.
King’s words are deeply convicting and the more I mulled through his sermons, prayers and got to learn about his story, I couldn’t help but wonder why I wasn’t living as radically as he. In his quest to abolish racial segregation and stand up for social justice, I couldn’t help but wonder how I could do similar things, especially with the state our world is in. What I think is most inspiring about the way King lived was how much it was based out of Scripture. He wasn’t doing it just for the sake of equality or because the personal struggle he had faced his entire life, but because of his deep convictions that this world wasn’t how the Lord intended for it to be. He was committed to living a life that enacted the very essence of the Gospel, truly seeking to live like Christ.

I feel like I have spent the better part of my life pretty ignorant to the injustice in the world. I have been far removed from it and, as a result, been isolated from knowing how to respond or even feeling like I needed to respond. My journey through the Old Testament this last semester had already begun to plant some seeds that perhaps there was something that I needed to be doing about the injustice around me. This, coupled with a newly raging desire within to know how to respond to the heartache in this world, had my mind spinning. King’s response is a human’s response to the broken world, but I am deeply inspired by a tangible example in more modern times that we have through him as he attempted to live out of his understanding of the Bible (and the many others that he studied before him). I am inspired by the way he sought to embody Scripture in a way that not only shaped his actions, but helped pave the way for others to move into a new era of freedom and hope.

I have been praying a lot more for wisdom and discernment on how to proceed from here. Praying a lot for opportunity and that, in the face of opportunity, I would be bold, courageous and willing to step into something that is potentially frightening but a cause worthy of fighting for. I long to be more intentional about the way I live out of the Gospel, and the way that I love others. What I also appreciate about King is that he didn’t step into any of it blindly. While he was passionate, he was also educated. He took the time to study and prepare and develop a mindset that he believed in before he was ever able to live it out. He took time to be equipped and prepared and, while this took effort, I think it also is in line with the example of others we have in Scripture.

I have the tendency to want to rush into things, to want to do things and to make a difference. I don’t want to just sit around and talk about things, but I want to know how we can apply it and how we can put it to action. However, I do feel like there is wisdom to waiting, wisdom in being patient, wisdom in seeking to learn and know more about God’s word. I believe that I may be in this season and am eager to see where the Lord takes me in it.

In some ways, I feel like if King were alive today, his sermons and speeches and prayers would still make a profound impact on the world around him. While there have been so many victories in the realm of racial segregation and injustices, there are still so many to overcome. I am grateful for the opportunity to learn from such a great man and hope that some day I can more fully live out of the convictions in my heart, especially when it comes to social injustice.




Bibliography

Ansbro, John J. Martin Luther King, Jr.: Nonviolent Strategies and Tactics for Social Change. Lanham, MD: Madison Books, 2000.
Baldwin, Lewis V. Never to Leave Us Alone: The Prayer Life of Martin Luther King, Jr. Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 2010.



Carson, Clayborne, editor. The Autobiography of Martin Luther King, Jr. New York, NY: Warner Books, Inc., 1998.
King Institute Resources. Accessed January 28, 2018. http://kingencyclopedia.stanford.edu/primarydocuments/Vol2Intro.pdf.

King, Martin Luther. Strength to Love. Minneapolis, MN: Fortress, 2010.

King, Martin Luther. A Testament of Hope: The Essential Writings of Martin Luther King, Jr. Edited by James Melvin Washington. New York, NY: HarperCollins, 1986.

King, Martin Luther. “Thou, Dear God”: Prayers That Open Hearts and Spirits. Edited by Lewis V. Baldwin. New York, NY: Beacon Press, 2012.

King, Martin Luther. A Knock at Midnight. Edited by Clayborne Carson and Peter Holloran. New York: Warner Brooks, Inc., 1998.

Mitchell, Henry H. “The Awesome Meek.” Pulpit Digest, January 1991, 23-26.

Go

I have a love-hate relationship with my birthday.

In fact, I probably blog about it every year because of the inner turmoil I experience. To celebrate, or not celebrate? To take my birthday off of Facebook, or leave it up? To request anything special, or not?

Getting married added a new challenge. Poor Kel suffers on this day each year, trying to do the impossible: make his wife feel special, cared for, valued. As the dreaded day approached this year, we had a few conversations about it, especially given our pandemic-world we now live in. What could we do and what did I want to do. You’d be surprised to hear I changed my mind a million times. Mostly I wanted to be content with doing nothing… and I kind of wanted everyone else to be content with that, too. But, that type of answer never really flies…

But then last night, it hit me.
It was brilliant. Mostly because it wasn’t me.

Come to me.
Be with me. 

Kel”, I said minutes later, “If you don’t mind watching Baby K for a few hours tomorrow- I think I’d like to go get lost in the woods for a while”.

Hiking has become somewhat of a birthday tradition for us, but it’s always included people. In some ways, excluding my husband felt selfish. But, it also felt necessary. Even as I typed those words, I immediately remembered The Message version of Matthew 11:28-30 that a professor had brought into a seminar on Sabbath. Check it out:

“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”

On a day that I have wrestled with wanting to be celebrated versus wanting to live with humility, it had never once dawned on me that perhaps the most perfect way to celebrate was to go be with my Creator. That instead of seeking the accolades of others, of wanting to know what value I have contributed to the world in these 36 years… that maybe there was actually something more beautiful about escaping to be with my Father, being in relationship with Him, being reminded of who HE is and how that defines who I am.

These past weeks and months I’ve heard a lot about social distancing… a lot about how we were created to be in relationship with others. How, now that we can’t, we realize more than ever how much we truly do need community. But, I wonder how much we’ve remembered that we were, first and foremost, created to be in relationship with the Creator. To love God, then others.

I hiked. I hammocked. I worshipped. I dozed. I prayed. I cried. I laughed. You might have thought of me a crazy person.

But it was so good.
I’ve been so blessed by the many who have reached out to tell me kind things today. But, it will never compare to the love of a Savior, who redeems my darkest moments. He, who weeps with me, but reminds me that there is more in store. He, in whom there is eternal victory.

I feel compelled to tell you, friends, to go to Him… to recover your life… to learn the unforced rhythms of grace. Even if you never have. Even if it’s been years. Even if you did this morning.

Henri Nouwen’s book, Reaching Out, describes something that has stuck with me for a few years now. He pushes people to move from loneliness to solitude in the first section of his book. My basic take away is that when someone is lonely, our intuition is often to surround that person with people. Nouwen suggests, quite beautifully, something foreign-feeling. Instead, what if we pushed people toward solitude… with God. He writes, “No friend or lover, no husband or wife, no community or commune will be able to put to rest our deepest cravings for unity and wholeness.”

I have been convicted, on my birthday, of all days… how much I try to seek this wholeness from other humans. And I bet a lot of you do the same.

As a result, my challenge for you (and me) is this: Go. Get away with God. Go without an agenda, without a plan, without expectation.

Turn off the TV. Turn off your phone (or set “Do not disturb notifications” up). Set down the news. Escape into the wilderness. Disappear into a different room. Enjoy your porch at sunrise.

Be willing.
Be honest.
Be mad. Be lonely. Be sad. Be scared. Be sick. Be healthy. Be thankful. Be happy. Be worried.

But go.

He can handle all of it.
He is calling.
Will you follow?

Husbands/wives- watch the kids while the other takes some hours away.

We have the time. Maybe now, more than ever before. Be in relationship, yes. But with the Father, first and foremost.

Go.
Recover your life. 
Keep company with God. 

I have reason to believe that when we do this… that it (He) can change everything. I have reason to believe that it might be the best possible thing to do while in quarantine.

Try it.
And then let me know how it goes.

Your entries will remain anonymous 

It is Time

Yesterday felt like “one for the books”.
Final paycheck.
Cleaning out my office.
Saying goodbye to our laying hens in a rather sudden fashion.
Finding out that we can move with Baby K at any point.

There was a certain finality in yesterdays’ events.
The stark realization that I wasn’t being Punk’d, but that all the things that had unfolded in the last several weeks were, in fact, real. That our everyday was about to look very different. That my life for the last almost 7 years was actually ending. It’s not just the job… because, when you live and work at camp, losing your job means losing a lot more than losing an occupation.

In the finalities, however, there was also so much blessing and goodness.

As I rifled through the things in my office, it felt like a fitting departure. After all the office moves, I was ending where I started. Saying goodbye where I said hello. A perfect bookend to a season I didn’t anticipate ending in this way, but every ounce of me knows: It is time.

I don’t know how to describe the inner workings, or the thoughts, or the feelings… but I can assure you that even in the moments of the deepest pain, there also exists a deeper peace– a peace that resolutely knows it is time.

Time to move on.
Time to explore what’s next.
Time to discover new beginnings, new challenges, new (and maybe old) friendships. Time to trust God in the uncertainties, in the unknowns, in the anticipation and excitement of what could be. And there are a lot of those.

If you asked us today where we will go and what we will do, we would have some ideas. Our current plan is Columbia, Missouri (where I grew up). We’ll be boomerang-ing for a while, which I imagine my parents are both thrilled and terrified about. Kel is already working his way through a real-estate course and dreaming up non-profit start-ups.

I, on the other hand, have been slow to latch onto anything concrete to pursue. I think a lot about discipleship, spiritual formation, counseling, church ministry, etc. … but then feel content to just wait, to be, to see what happens. At least today. In the coming weeks, I imagine I’ll be fine-tuning my resume and casting it out to the masses in hopes that something catches….something that I can be passionate about.

It’s been both hard and good to watch the life we’ve built up for ourselves crumble around us. As we purge, clean, and sell so many of our possessions, there is a great reminder that this world is not our home. It’s a great reminder that so many of the things I store up, the things I place value in, the things that I hold onto… they only last for a finite time. It makes me reconsider what I want, what I buy, what I spend time on, what I value. Because, in a moment, everything in our world can change. Everything we found comfort in, security in, hope in. I’m so thankful that today, this only means our jobs, our house, our community… and that today I still have my husband, our baby, and our health. Today we are still a redeemed humanity, saved only by grace – even while we were sinners. How beautiful that this never changes. May we rejoice in this truth alone!

It is time to sing a new song on this earth.
While we’re not leaving today, or tomorrow, or the next day… our remaining time in New Mexico has an end in sight. We know it will fly by. We grieve, we mourn, but we rejoice in celebrating the end of an incredible season and the beginning of another. It is time for new beginnings, new routines, new dreams, a new way of life.

May our hope be resolutely found in the One who does not change, even when all around us can and does. May we rejoice in what is true, despite the hardest, saddest things that may be surrounding us. May we fix our eyes on what is unseen, may we be unified in our love for the Lord and others as we navigate through these “unprecedented times” and through the uncertainty of what lies ahead.

AND, if you have any great suggestions for next my career moves, I’ll happily add them to my list to consider 🙂

Baby K rolls!
Your entries will remain anonymous 

Upside Down

A few months ago, I had some hopes and dreams about what life “ought” to look like.

They involved slowing down.
Effectively, it had everything to do with actually turning life upside down.

Oh, the irony.

A dear friend had presented on Sabbath and it reminded me of this deeper longing within. A longing to be a person of God, first and foremost. Not a wife, a mother, an employee, a person people go to for solutions, etc. etc. etc. I can still be all of those things, but ideally, the first informs all the others. That being one of God’s people means that I know Him, love Him, spend time with Him, am changed by Him…and that drastically impacts the way that I then relate to my husband, my child, my co-workers, my community, the strangers I encounter…

I remember thinking, How do I even do that? 
How do I make my life so about Jesus, first, and fill in the rest of my life around that? How do daily and weekly habits, routines, and rhythms change to become centered on Him? How do I slow down, how do I stop doing all the things that I’m doing, how do I decide what is good and what needs to cease?

As a result, Kel and I decided to adopt some new habits. Ones, we hoped, that would center us back on Jesus each day. We were committed to slowly working them into our life, convinced that if we added them in at turtle-pace, we might be successful at developing new, lifelong habits. We invited others to journey with us, basing our “new habit” adventure on the book The Common Rule, by Justin Whitmel Early.

We had just begun when coronavirus hit.
Slowing down became a new way of life for us. Work from home. Eat at home. Video calls by day and by night.

And then we lost our jobs.
Staring into the face of our first week without 40+ hours of work brought up a lot of thoughts and emotions: anxiety, worry, fear, sorrow…questions about how we would fill the time, if our life would lack purpose.

And then I remembered…
Just a few months ago I had wanted to somehow, miraculously, turn life upside down.
And here I was, with my life turned upside down.
Living in a bit of a nightmare, but also living in one of my dreams.

Here before us was a chance to be.
For the first time, and maybe the last time.

What a gift.
We are literally “stuck” in New Mexico as we figure things out with Baby K- for weeks, if not months.
We are literally “stuck” in our home, as the pandemic rages on – for weeks, if not months.

I have hours each day to choose how I will spend my time.

I wish I could say that this week has been filled with pure joy and adoration of the Father. I wish I could say that every waking moment was marked by prayer, gratitude, and a seeking to know Jesus, even in the uncertainty.

There’s been some of that, for sure. Some of it has come about through grief, as I work through the pain and loss only to be reminded of God’s generosity and kindness. Some of it has come about through confession, as I am ever-aware of my sinful state that demands to know, that seeks to be right, that pridefully believes I am “better than” while simultaneously believing I am nothing. In these moments, I humbly encounter the Savior who washes His betrayers’ feet…the Savior who restores, redeems, and places faith again in those who deny Him. In these moments, I beg that the Spirit would be strong when my flesh is so weak.

In this upside down world, we have new habits.
Kneeling prayer – morning, midday, and evening.
Lunchtime walks.
Times of solitude. Time that I’ve resumed journaling.
Time to talk…time to dream…time to think about what could be and where the Lord might lead us next.
Time for projects, for clean-up, for packing.
Time for egg-collecting, plant-watching, and baby giggles.
Time for making more new habits – ones we pray will stick with us in this lifetime. Ones that we pray will center us as people of God, first and foremost, so that everything else is rooted in that.

Before us, each day, we have hours. Hours of opportunity. Hours I do not want to waste.

In this upside down world, life looks different.
And, as we move and find new careers and a new community… I hope and pray that our new “normal” looks a bit more like our current upside down world (coronavirus-free, of course). Slower. Rhythmic. Centered. Purposed and overflowing.

We have an opportunity press pause. To start over. To establish a new way of life. To create a new normal.

To be instead of being consumed by what I do. Because, I (sooooo easily) get consumed by doing and finding worth, value, and purpose in that alone.

What a sweet, hard opportunity before us.
It is one that we are painfully thankful for.

A few things we would covet prayers for, if you think of it:

  • Figuring things out with Baby K and (hopefully!) the adoption process. 
  • Jobs: Kel and I are both excited about what COULD be with our next careers, but pray that we would seek, listen, and be willing to go where the Lord leads. We have loved being a part of camp ministry and would love to love our next jobs, as well. 
  • That we would be able to mourn, but also rejoice – even in a hard, sad season. 
  • That we would invest in our community while we are still here and wouldn’t withhold or draw back (we have continued to be blown away by the love they have shown us during all of this). 

Thanks, friends.
We are forever grateful for friends/family near and far who rally around us through all the seasons – good and bad.

(Also – if you want to join in on the new habits, let me know!)

Your entries will remain anonymous 

Purpose in Pandemic

There aren’t great words in the midst of a pandemic.

Sometimes you want magical words to fix things.
To provide certainty in the midst of absolute uncertainty.
To assure you that there will be enough jobs, enough money, enough time to figure out the next steps. That there will be full healing and restoration. That life will go back to how it used to be.

These are imagined promises that might never be fulfilled. Perhaps they’re never meant to be. We get to figure out the reality of being okay in a new world. A post-pandemic world. If we even make it that far.

This weekend, Kel and I joined the 22 million people who have filed for unemployment in the past month. The last 144 hours of our lives have been filled with grief, pain, anticipation, hope, gratitude, and a million other things in between. Our last day of work was Friday. I sent the following email to our staff and, rather than try to recreate it, I feel like it continues to sum up the cry of our hearts right now. So… here you go. 

_________________________________

I was putting Baby K (our foster baby of almost 8 months) to bed the other night, processing through the weeks’ events. Through the tears, I looked into the bright blue eyes of this miraculous gift and found myself choking out the words of the catechisms we sing to her often. 


How and why did God create us? 
There was a purpose statement in the question that seemed meant for me in the moment. Debbie- why were you created? 

My heart ran through the list of possible answers: 
To be heard?
To be known? 
To be valued? 
To be right? 
To be wanted? 
To work at camp? 
To be a wife? A mom? 
To be healthy? Safe? 
To live in the mountains? 
To be comfortable? 

Quickly, the catechism responded: 
God created us male and female in his own image to know him, love him, live with him, and glorify him. And it is right that we who were created by God should live to his glory.

Too easily I forget the purpose for which I was created. 
In a broken world, with a broken heart, and the uncertainty of what will unfold next… we tend to think we were created for something other than which we were. 

The false narrative causes us to worry, to fear, to believe lies about our worth and our value. It causes us to think that this is all that matters. This present circumstance before us– it’s all-consuming. Our normals have been wrecked by a pandemic, causing us to lose jobs, communities, neighbors, camp, a way of life… causing us to worry about our health, our families, our finances, our futures… 

But here we can remember the purpose for which we were created. 
To know Him.
To love Him.
To live with Him. 
To glorify Him

Through anything, in anything… because of who God is and what He has done. Immanuel… God with us. 

I don’t know what category you stand in today… worried, broken-hearted, angry, confused, lonely, wanting to run, scared, wishing away our realities, relieved… 

But I do know one thing.
We are people created with purpose.
Don’t forget that.

Even in the hardest, most unimaginable circumstances…. even when our April, normally brimming with campers and the crazy anticipation of summer staff arriving, is now filled with good-byes and unknowns and closed gates…
Our purpose remains the same.

How and why did God create us?
To glorify Him.

In all things. All seasons. All circumstances. No.matter.what.

Let us declare it and live it loudly, courageously, and with steadfastness– even if it’s through tears and brokenness, even if we have to beg the Lord for the strength to do so. There is a beautiful simplicity about our purpose that surpasses our circumstances, that surpasses all time… and reminds us that we serve the King in whom there is victory over death, sin, and pain– the King who is making all things new

Not to us, but to God be all glory and honor and praise. 

“Worthy are you, our Lord and God,  
to receive glory and honor and power,
for you created all things,
    and by your will they existed and were created.”
 Revelation 4:11

____________________________________________


And He is so worthy. My little human mind can’t even begin to really comprehend it. But I am humbled that He calls me daughter. Relieved that He takes care of His children. 

We don’t know what is next. 
And that’s okay. At least today. 

More musings will come, as we will have ample time to process, to reflect, and to share. 

For a little while, we will remain in New Mexico as we figure out the adoption process with Baby K. And for the foreseeable future, we will wait. We will pray. We will trust. And we will seek to glorify the Lord however we can, in the midst of something only the Lord knew was coming.

Your entries will remain anonymous 


Unpredictable Events

If you would have told me a year ago that in 2019 my mom would break her hip, that we’d work on a farm in Costa Rica, that I’d have a new job in Human Resources, that we’d have 22 chickens and take in a stray kitten, that a homeless woman would live with us, that my 2-year-old niece would be diagnosed with Leukemia (and that I’d work remotely from California for over a month as a result), that we’d be given a newborn to take care of for a third of the year, and that I’d finish my Master’s degree…

I would have only partially believed you.  
But here we are… entering 2020 with an entire year of unpredictable events behind us, unsure of what this next year might hold. 
I’ve probably cried more in 2019 than I have in a while. 
I’ve definitely slept less. 
I’ve learned a lot. 
About God, but also about motherhood… and state laws, 401(k)s, health insurance, and leadership development.

I’ve learned that, in general, I still like cats more than dogs, that collecting eggs can be a highlight of my day, that the chuckle of a baby’s new laugh can bring irrational tears to my eyes.

I’ve learned that I don’t currently feel called to overseas’ missions, that time spent and lived with family is indescribably valuable, and that I am the type of mom who, while perhaps unlikely, prefers to dress her baby girl up with bows and dresses. I’ve learned that breaking away from the grind of social media and the tendency to binge-watch television shows can be one of the most freeing things to commit oneself to… and that the time gained back can be spent in other, more life-giving ways. I’ve learned that admitting weakness is a necessary part of parenting and that I can’t always juggle all the things- despite how much I try.


I’ve learned that the Triune God repeatedly shows up for His people… in His timing and in His way, of course…and that He is making Himself known through things that seem too hard, too heartbreaking, too confusing, too broken, too unjust, and even too good to be true.

I might boldly declare that the Beals who existed on January 1, 2019 are now very different versions of ourselves on January 1, 2020. Perhaps better in some ways, perhaps worse in others. But, definitely different. Our eyes are a little more open, but also a little more weary.

Our circumstances have changed significantly this year. Our day-to-day is entirely different. The potential of what-could-be raps on the doors of our hearts daily. We dream a lot. Our world is full of possibilities marred only slightly by the broken realities. We aspire to deeper. Better. Different. It’s a steady mantra in our marriage. To grow, to learn, to love God more wholly and to learn to love others selflessly — to know God and to know others more deeply.  It takes time, which is something else we are learning how to manage in new ways.

Baby K is still with us–  smiling often, finding her voice, rolling over (as of literally minutes ago), unwilling to sleep through the night. We love her a lot and while it seems quite plausible that this might become a forever-in-this-world arrangement, we know not what precarious events might unexpectedly alter the process. And so we love fiercely and hold the future loosely. 2020 may bring Baby K permanently into our home, but it also may take her away from it. (We covet any prayers the Spirit leads you to pray surrounding this situation!)

Because I no longer have school filling up every ounce of my free time, I am considering the ways in which I might spend it (as if a full-time job and child-rearing isn’t enough). Cooking or pie-making seems fun right now. Learning new things, without the intensity of writing papers and reading hundreds of pages each week. Learning new things that can bless others (because who doesn’t love to eat?). Maybe I’ll blog more. We’ll see.

All I know is that no year ever turns out how we think or hope it might.
But, all I can ask for this year…all I can hope for… is that I know God a little more at the end of it, no matter what events unfold. That I would know Him and proclaim Him more faithfully, more boldly, more truthfully… whether or not we have a baby, or if I can lose ten pounds, or accomplish all I want to in my job, or if I feel known or cared for by humans on this earth…

My goal and resolution is to press on to know the Lord, no matter what the future holds.

May I look different as a result. 

Your entries will remain anonymous 

Amazing Grace

I should be writing a paper, but instead I’m blogging. Typical.

We’ve had Baby K for 5 weeks yesterday– which means she’s 6 weeks old today. Crazy. Time is flying.  We have a heavier lump to carry around now. She’s fattening up from 5 lbs 7oz (the day we got her) to right around 10 lbs now.

She eats. She sleeps. She poops. She cries. She refuses to sleep when she’s clearly exhausted. She stares at us with wide eyes and I can’t help but wonder if she’s actually looking at me or looking into a blurry abyss. She’s really cute. I’m thankful for that, especially on her fussy afternoons.


We’re tired.
Our words are little sharper. Our patience a little less abounding. But, we’re making it.
I’d like to think if I had 9 months to prepare for a newborn joining our family that we would have a little more figured out by now. Like, what we’ll do about childcare. Or our jobs. Or school. Or our social life (what’s that?).

It feels like a lot sometimes. But, lots of times, it just kind of feels normal. Why not get a stork-delivered baby dropped in your lap and just figure it all out on the fly? (If storks were real, I bet it would feel a lot like this).

I get a lot of my steps inside now instead of on the walk to the office. My left arm is getting stronger as I’m figuring out how to be an ambidextrous baby-holder. It’s insane how she can sleep for hours…and then cry for hours. The dietician at the WIC office told us this week that with babies, “…nothing is normal”.  Great.

The other night I was walking, rocking, swaying, singing baby girl to sleep (anything that might work), and found myself digging up some old songs from the recesses of my mind (Waterdeep, anyone?). One of the oldies was straight from Isaiah 43:

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you…
And the waves, they will not overcome you.  

Do not fear, for I have redeemed you.
I have called you by name, you are Mine.   

For I am the Lord, your God
For I am the Holy One of Israel
Your savior  

Do not fear, for I have redeemed you…

It’s one of those moments where the Lord quietly reminds me that this fussy baby isn’t mine… but His.  One of those moments where I’m tearing up in a dark room remembering the Lord’s goodness, His faithfulness, and how He redeems even the darkest of nights. One of those moments where I remember my place in the grand scheme of all of this. I’m a steward of this life. What an honor. Will you pray that I remember that?

Many days later, I’m shedding tears for a different reason. Maybe it’s exhaustion. But mostly I’m so frustrated at my inability to be like Jesus. Impatient, quickly frustrated, accusatory…broken. I imagine all of you parents are laughing right now as we experience this depravity of the soul for the first time. You know this song.

But man. How much I’m reminded that I need grace.
I told my small group last night that I still have the tendency toward self-righteousness… but having Baby K reminds me just how sinful I can be. Oh, amazing grace…how can it be? Jesus is really, really good. To love me, to want me, to take me in… when I am such a fussy little baby. Isn’t it ironic?

Kel and I just celebrated our 5-year anniversary last weekend, too. We had, what I’m calling, an “Awkward Anniversary” gathering. We invited friends and family in… and asked them to challenge us with things they have seen in our marriage that need to be refined, to encourage us with things that embody Christ, to hold us accountable to our vows and the things we want to improve on, to pray for us. But mostly, to remind us that we can’t do anything of that without first running to the Lord.

How hard we try to be all the things we think we’re supposed to be and all the things we want to be without first going to Him… as if we could muster up any of it on our own.

Having a baby has been awesome (really, truly).
Easy? No.
As hard as I thought it would be? No.
We love her a lot (probably a whole lot more than we are frustrated with her).

Would you pray that every day we have her that we could be like Jesus to her?
To extend grace upon grace, to love selflessly, to serve joyfully… even when she’s a fussy little baby.
Pray that we remember that our time with her might be so limited, to embrace the moments we have left, no matter how few they may be. If there were ever a time to live in the present, it is now… for we really do not know what tomorrow may bring. Pray that we would be stewards of this baby girl, and remember to Whom she truly belongs.

Also…
We have continually been blown away by the generosity of people during this season. Strangers, even. God takes care of our every possible need. Amazing grace…how can it be?

Thanks for loving us.

Your entries will remain anonymous 

A Whirlwind

It’s been a whirlwind.

Like a…get a text at 6:30 in the morning and come home with a week-old baby 8 hours later type of whirlwind. 
It was last Thursday, and I was gearing up to leave on Saturday for another 3.5 week trip out to California to help with my brother’s family. 
I tapped Kel to wake him up. “Kel…”. 
“I know, I know, it’s time to get up.” 
“No… listen to the text we just got.” 

I am sorry to be texting you so early but we have a 10 month old child that we have been unable to find placement for- it is a boy, and we also have a newborn baby girl that will released from the hospital today. I was wondering if you all would be interested in placement of one of these babies? 

Imagine our surprise to find out that we were actually officially licensed and certified foster parents in this way!

I don’t know if you can ever really prepare for this type of moment and the things that you’ll think, or the feelings that you’ll have. My immediate reaction was that it felt impossible. We had committed to be there for my family during my niece’s leukemia treatments.  How could we possibly take in a foster child? Truthfully, it had been so long since we had heard anything, I had personally taken it off the table as a possibility. It was starting to feel like we were weren’t ever “supposed” to have kids.

But here we were – faced with some choices.
So we (…I mean I…) freaked out. We prayed. And then we went to work.

We felt like we needed to see if we could make it work out, so we told the placement worker we were interested in the newborn and that we were going to try to adjust some stuff (since Kel was also supposed to be traveling the following week).

My family was the most gracious and excited. When I called my sister-in-law to see what she thought, she reminded me that Berit’s treatment had been deescalated to standard risk instead of very high risk, and it felt like the Lord’s timing that we had just received that news a few days prior this unexpected text. They weren’t even sure they would need someone there full-time.

So we kept moving forward.
Text after text, a knot growing in the pit of my stomach– angsty about the unknowns and the possibilities.

We drove into town that afternoon to pick up a few baby things from the county that they were able to provide us (a bassinet, a boppy, some size 1 diapers…). We ate lunch at Chick-Fil-A. We drove to Target, to get a car seat… and some newborn diapers, wipes, a cat litter box (the essentials). We waited in Target, cart packed and ready to check-out… waiting for the text that told us that it was time to pick her up (and IF it was time to pick her up– it was only 98% likely to happen).

We got the text.
We checked out.
We struggled through putting the car seat in correctly in the Target parking lot (which took far longer than we anticipated).

She was a lot smaller than I could have ever imagined:  5 lbs 7 oz – no idea how long. Healthy. Helpless. Ours… at least for a little while.

Before we knew it, we were driving home with the tiniest of humans on board.

We have had five nights with Baby K.
We’ve learned about diapers and Butt Paste.
We’ve learned how to stick tiny appendages through tiny sleeves.
We’ve learned about sleepless nights and constant worry that we’ve probably done something wrong.
We’ve learned about laundry needing to be done every single day.

We’ve learned that we are surrounded by family and friends who are generous, kind, and so willing to help us out during this crazy time. Within hours, we had baby girl clothes on our counter, baby swings in our living room, swaddles in our arms. We were given baby bathtubs, burp cloths, nose suckers, tiny gloves and socks, bottles. A meal train was set-up for us and we have eaten like royalty without having to prepare a thing. We have been so, so humbled by our community.

Kel’s parents made a last minute Labor Day weekend trip to meet Baby K. Lee Lee taught us how to  keep her clean. B worked hard on our chicken coop (because yes, chickens…). They held this new baby like she was their own granddaughter, loving her as such until she is not.

We have talked and FaceTimed with my family often. Sweet Berit loves to see Baby K, encouraging her use of the binky. We have heard from countless friends who are excited and supporting us in this endeavor, whatever it may bring. 

What a beautiful picture of the Gospel.
A beautiful picture of giving and sharing with one another when they are need.

We literally had nothing prepared for an infant.
Now, I can barely think of anything else we could need.

We don’t know what the future holds for us and Baby K– or how long we might have her. But we know that we love her a lot and are thankful for the time that we do get with her. Pray that we would be good stewards of this little one that has been entrusted to us during this season. That we would love her well, that we would keep her safe, that her future would be one filled with hope and joy.

Pray also for Kel and I as we figure out the balance between newborn life, full-time jobs, and both of us being in school (not to mention tending of the Beal farm). Pray that we would trust the Lord in His timing, in His ways, and in His goodness.

It’s been a whirlwind… but the best kind of whirlwind.

(Also- this is NO surprise, but my husband makes the best daddy).

Your entries will remain anonymous

Showing Up

I’ve been living in Cupertino, California for the last 4 weeks.
Because life never turns out the way you think it will.

If you had told me a year ago that Kel and I would have legitimately contemplated moving to Costa Rica, that I would be working a job in Human Resources, and that my two-year-old niece would be diagnosed with leukemia… I probably wouldn’t have believed you.

But, here we are. Another year under our belt and a whole new set of challenges before us.

The last several months have felt like a “stripping down”. A getting rid of the excess. Of having to set aside the things that just don’t matter as much. A necessary living out of Colossians 3 (and if you’ve talked to me in the last few months, I may have already told how this passage has been rocking my world). Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth.

It all started when our full-time staff was encouraged to fast for 40 days from something as we prayed through some organizational changes. Because of some of the books I had been assigned to read from seminary, I was readily aware of how social media was impacting me in negative ways and so I chose to give it up for a while.

This was the beginning of learning more tangibly what it means to show up.
It meant that I was no longer on my phone swiping or scrolling to see what was going on in someone else’s life halfway across the country that I hadn’t talked to in a decade. Instead, I was present with the people physically in front of me. Instead of only taking pictures because of how “post-worthy” they might be, I was taking them for my own personal enjoyment or to send to one or two people. Instead of being on my phone because there was nothing else to do, I was showing up in my own thoughts, forcing myself to deal with the silence. Instead of judging a neighbor because of something they said or posted on social media, I learned how to love them in person because I have to take the time to actually know them and not just assume that I already do.

While the 40 days passed months ago, I am still an infrequent visitor to any social media platform. The changes that giving up the habit have caused in my life have been so rewarding, it is hard to imagine going back.

Not too long after, I felt that there was something else I needed to give up that I had been avoiding for a long time. Every time the thought surfaced, I didn’t want to acknowledge the harm it was causing in my life and I justified its existence. The truth is, I think that sometimes our habits turn into addictions and oftentimes, these addictions become so acceptable in society. My addiction? Binge-watching TV shows. In a lot of ways, it felt like my reward after a long week of school and work. I justified hours of episode after episode because it wasn’t my “norm”. It was a way to disengage with my reality. A way to calm my restless mind from thinking about all the things going on, without actually dealing with those things.

I had felt this prodding before– the demand to give it up. And, every time, I had talked myself out of it. It felt too hard. Which, I know, sounds silly. Mostly I just didn’t want to. But I knew that sometimes I was anxious to get home from somewhere so I could escape into an alternative universe for an hour or two before bed. I knew that sometimes it could too easily become a way for Kel and I to co-exist, without actually engaging in conversation with one another. I knew sometimes that I was avoiding time (or drastically reducing) with the Lord because the weekend only has a limited number of hours in it and, if I’m being honest, Netflix got far more of those hours than Jesus ever did.

So, I quit. Because I wanted to be different than that. I wanted to show up for people. I wanted to show up for Jesus, for my husband, for the people in my life. I didn’t want to leave early because I really wanted to watch something. In fact, my priorities were all wrong. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. The verse continually pounds into my brain. Put on compassionate, kind, humble, meek, patient hearts. Forgive, put on love. Let the Word of Christ dwell in you richly… 

Cold turkey, I stopped watching TV shows, right in the middle of a season.
Because suddenly, they didn’t matter. I didn’t want to look back and consider the hours and hours (and days and weeks) that I had spent thinking about and caring about fictional characters’ lives. I wanted to care about the real lives of the real people around me. To care about real souls. To show up.

I went most of the summer without watching TV, and have yet to enter back into a place where I feel like I should (or want to) watch shows on my personal device, alone.

The craziest part about all of it was that I never really missed it.
I had gained back time. And space. And conversation. And probably some sleep.

I was learning how to show up again with Jesus. The quiet space, where I might normally have thrown on a show while I cooked, or cleaned the house, forced me to be more present with where I was really at, and what I was really going through. I pray more. Listen to music more. Exist in silence more. I tended to the new plants, the chickens, the dogs, the cat.

I show up more.
For the Lord, for others, for myself.

Don’t misunderstand: I’m not saying that social media or TV shows are bad or wrong. I know there are so many benefits for social media and the connectivity we have through it. I know that I have missed big life events of people I legitimately care about because I am not perusing these platforms daily (text me, if that’s you!). I just know that right now, in this season, being more removed from it allows me to be more fully present with those I am physically with. And, I have not been legalistic about television shows and also believe this can be a communal, fun, enjoyable thing to do with others. What I am actively staying away from currently is the binge-watching, by myself activity that can become entirely too addicting for me as I get carried away in a new storyline and new characters.

Not long after all of these decisions were made, we found out that my 2-year-old niece, Berit, has leukemia. After a lot of conversation and prayer, Kel and I felt like I should come to California to help my brother and sister-in-law out while they navigate living in a completely new area (they just moved from Florida a few weeks ago) and figuring out what treatment will look like for Berit. They need someone to watch Alta, their 4-year-old, while they are at the hospital a few times each week, and while my brother gets his new job figured out.

My new HR job allows me to work remotely and camp has been so, so incredibly gracious in allowing me to do so. In a lot ways, the saddest parts to me about coming to CA for an extended period of time was not being able to see how all of my time with the plants and the chickens would pan out. And not getting to see Archie, our new kitten, grow into a cat. And, once again, the verses pounded within: Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth.

Show up for people.
In even the silliest ways, I had shifted my TV-watching addictions into a more “fruitful” activity– watching and tending to things as they grow. But, even this, I was reminded, doesn’t really matter. It doesn’t have eternal significance.

So I left on July 13 for California.
I will get to see my husband again on August 13- it’s the longest we have been a part. At this juncture, I am planning to be in California for most of the fall, minus 5.5 weeks total (where I’ll be back at camp and with my husband!).

At every turn, I’m learning more about what it means to show up.
Learning more about what it means to be stripped of the things that don’t matter, and to consider how I let the things that do matter become a priority. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. It’s like the Lord is saying:

Show up, Debbie.
Show up, in even the littlest ways.
Show up for people.
Show up for Me.
Press into the hard things.
Seek Me, and find Me.
Don’t forsake your True Love.
Don’t let the opinions of others matter, it is I whom you should please. 

Will I give up all things for the sake of knowing Christ?

But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ. 
– Philippians 3:7-8-

I have so much yet to learn… 
But I know that taking steps towards the abandoning of anything that gets in the way of Christ (even the things that can seem good), teaches me more about His goodness, His love, and the indescribable ways that the Triune God shows up for us. 
(Also- I can’t even begin to describe the joy it has been to be a regular part of my nieces’ lives, as well as getting to spend ample time with my brother and sister-in-law. It’s like God knows the things our souls actually need, or something…). 

Your entries will remain anonymous

Let Them Come In

I met her about a year ago.

We were serving together at a homeless shelter. As we talked, I began to piece together that her and I were pretty different. She wasn’t just coming to serve because it seemed like the right thing to do. This place, in fact, was her current home. She was serving her friends and her roommates, some that she interacted with on a daily basis. I was serving strangers that I might see once a month, if I made the time for it.

I saw her at church a few times after that.
I tried to make it a point to talk to her each time.
When it was time for our church to serve again at the homeless shelter, she apologetically told me that she wasn’t going to help serve because last time she hadn’t gotten a chance to eat.

Months went by without seeing her. I would often wonder where she was and how she was doing.

But then, in January, she came back to church. I began talking to her before the service started, but we were quickly interrupted by the music beginning. I found my way to my husband, with a ludicrous thought bubbling up from within. Kel, I whispered. I think we need to invite her to live with us. He graciously nodded his approval and the second the benediction ended, I scurried over to her. I hadn’t thought through much about what words were coming out of my mouth or how I ought to say them, but I found myself asking questions and eventually inviting this woman into our home.

I never saw her again.
We went to Costa Rica, came back, got busy with work and school, went to church, served at the homeless shelter…and she wasn’t anywhere.

On May 5th, she reappeared at church. We pulled up into the parking lot and saw her immediately. We hugged and throughout the course of the morning (before and after the service), we had ample time to talk. She was still at the homeless shelter, still not able to find a job… but she was interested in coming out to our community group on Monday nights. I told her she could stay the night afterward, if she needed a place. We drew her a map and wondered if we’d see her again.

On May 6th, she appeared at our house.
On May 29th, she left.

There’s been a vacancy since she left that I’m not quite sure how to describe.
I learned a lot in those 3+ weeks of having a stranger live in our home.
I learned a lot about generosity. Not just with our things or our money… but with my time. With my ears. With my space. I learned that maybe those things aren’t really mine at all.

I learned that I can’t control outcomes, or people, or that maybe what I think is best is not actually was is best. I learned about letting go, about trusting, about simply not knowing.

I learned that sometimes when I think I’m the one who is supposed to be giving or offering…that maybe I’m supposed to be receiving. That maybe the Lord wanted me to learn from her much more than He wanted her to learn from me. I learned the beauty of listening, of paying attention, of being present…even when I had a million other things that I would have rather been doing.

It’s been a lesson on getting over self.
Of recognizing pride.
Of walking faithfully, even when I don’t know what that actually accomplishes.
Of opening our home, even when we don’t know the outcome (or even the person).
Of redefining “ours” and “mine”… and learning how to replace those pronouns with “His”.

I don’t know who the Lord might bring into our lives next, but I do know that I am more convinced than ever that my job is to let them come in. Into “our” home, into “our” space and allow them to take up “our” time, and eat “our” food and use “our” things. To let them come into our lives. And to do what we can to love them, no matter how long or how short that season may be.

In a world that is pressing more than ever for us to take care of “our”selves, I’m quite convinced that Biblically we are called to do quite the opposite. To consider others as better than ourselves (Phil 2), to outdo one another in showing honor (Romans 12), to bandage up wounds and to take care of others–even those whom we might despise, or might be completely opposite of us (Luke 10).

I don’t know where my new friend will go or if I will ever see her or hear from her again. I don’t know if her short stay in our home did anything positive for her or made any sort of lasting impact in her life.

But I do know that it has affected me.
And I think God is ironic in that way. Reminding me that I know so little and have so much to learn. Reminding me that He is King of my whole life, not just some aspects of it. Reminding me that He is God…and that He brings about growth and change in His timing and in His way.

“Our” home feels more open now. Less like it’s mine to control or protect. More like it’s His to bring in whomever He will, for however long He will.

And it’s hard.
And sad.
And heartbreaking.

But it’s good. Worth it.
A reminder that this life is meant to be lived not for my glory or my benefit… but for His.

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