On Mistakes

This past weekend was the IF:Gathering, and I was able to watch with 39 friends and strangers at my church.  There were several good speakers, and a few moments that simply electrified me.  I want to talk about one of those moments, which happened when Rebecca Lyons interviewed Larissa and Katherine.  Larissa's husband suffered a traumatic brain injury before they were married, and Katherine had a stroke as a young wife and mother at age 26.  Their stories are exceptional and if you missed this special weekend, you should seriously consider finding a rewatch near you or downloading the weekend when it becomes available.

It lifted my spirits so much to see two women representing different aspects of disability on the stage at IF.  They were honest and gut-wrenching and challenging, and I wished I was there in person to hug them both for sharing themselves with hundreds of thousands of people.  The most poignant moment for me was when Rebecca asked them what had been their darkest moment in facing the new reality of life after disability.  Katherine shared a moment when she lay in the hospital, partially paralyzed and unable to speak, when she thought, God, did you make a mistake?

Do you ever have that feeling when another person says something that cuts straight to the core of who you are and what you've lived through, that you feel almost strapped to your seat, unable to move?  That's how I felt in that moment.  Because I remembered the day (or, more likely, days) when I asked that very same question.  When I looked at my very young son, recently diagnosed with an Autism Spectrum Disorder, and I wondered if God had actually meant to give that child to me.  It wasn't what I was expecting as a mother, but mostly I wondered if God realized how inadequate I was for the task.

I want to share with you one of my deepest beliefs, one that has been forged in the dark nights and long days, that came from my lowest moments and from my son's unexpected life.

God doesn't make mistakes.

It was easy to see why my mind would go there.  Nine years ago, traits like compassion and grace and selflessness were basically non-existent in my life.  I heard an expression that said "If you vote Republican when you are young, then you don't have a heart."  I proudly shared that, and went out to vote for George W. Bush.  (The saying continues "If you vote Democrat when you're old, then you don't have a brain."  If the choice was between having a heart and having a brain, then I chose brain.) I had goals and ambitions for myself, none of which involved other people, something that my husband pointed out to me while we were still dating.  I was unapologetic about all of it.

Then one day I peed on a stick and two lines popped up immediately, leaving no doubt that my life was going to change.  I had a hard time realizing how much.  The little life grew inside me and before he was even born, he had taken charge.  I ate hamburgers slathered in mayonnaise and apple after apple.  I ate kale.  Kale, people.  Long gone were the breakfasts of Snickers and Dr. Pepper, the late nights talking with friends, the size 6 jeans.  And when he came out and I held him in my arms, I knew I would do whatever it took to give him a good life.  I just had no idea how hard it would be to accomplish that.

So yeah, I questioned why God in His infinite wisdom wouldn't put this child in the home of a trained speech therapist or intervention specialist.  Or, at the very least, someone less selfish and cold-blooded.  Having a son on the autism spectrum wrecked me in the best possible way.  It's easy to see it now, when so many years have passed and I have changed so much.  It's easy to see what God was thinking when he lovingly and tenderly created a little life inside my body.  He wanted to help me become a better person, a better mom.

Tonight, the thoughts are swirling, as I think of my mom friends who face similar diagnoses and challenges.  And maybe it's because a lady from my Bible study died this week, but there doesn't seem to be a better time to tell each of you...

God doesn't make mistakes.

The child you are holding, or watching over, or struggling to get into bed, the child who is challenging every idea you ever had about motherhood or life or just everything...He is not a mistake.  And you are not parenting him by mistake.  You are both exactly where you are supposed to be, exactly how you are supposed to be.  There is a God in heaven who created each and every one of us and He wants you to give everything you have to this life.  He wants you to grow in the challenges and revel in the joys and be surprised and broken and restored.  He wants you to live.

He doesn't make mistakes, but we certainly do.  I don't know who originated this saying, but I heard it from Master Oogway in the movie Kung Fu Panda (I'm a mother of boys, after all).  "Yesterday is history.  Tomorrow is a mystery.  Today is a gift.  That's why it's called the present."  And what a mistake it would be to waste your gift.  To spend your gift thinking about what is history, or speculating about what is a mystery.  What about today?  Don't think about what you got wrong in the past or what scary unknowns wait in the future!  Focus on today.

What do you need to learn today?  What can you do today to keep your family going?  What services do you need to investigate?  What is happening today, right now, that you will never get to experience again?  For me, it was hearing my son, the one with all the delays and the expressive communication difficulties calling my parents' dog to come sit in his lap, then giggling in delight when the dog licked his face.  It was disgusting but it was also huge.  It was something he couldn't do even six months ago, something I thought was impossible when he was 3 years old and crawling under tables during his assessments.  Today, when I showed his younger brother a gift I got for him to give his teacher tomorrow during the Valentine's party, he asked if he could take a gift to his teacher too.  I was surprised not just by his words, but that I had been so short-sighted that I didn't pick up two gifts.  (Apparently I have a ways to go in that whole "gracious, think of others" thing.)  Today, at bedtime, he asked me to come sleep in his bed.  I cuddled for a few minutes before excusing myself to my bigger, more comfortable bed.

What if I compared my life to other people I know?  What if I'd let that diagnosis dictate who my child was?  What if I'd resisted the changes developing in me?  What if it was fifty years ago and his doctors had advised me to leave him in a home and focus on my "normal" children? (Side note: I have two other kids, and none of them are normal.)  I would have missed the gifts that today held for me.

Friends (and strangers, if there are any of you reading this) DON'T MISS IT.  Don't miss the challenges of living your life.  Don't miss the trials and the changes they'll bring about in you.  Don't miss the joy to be found on the other side.

At Just the Right Time...

I'm on the left, 18 and ready to take the world by storm

Who has two thumbs and a 10 year plan?  THIS LADY.  I am a planner and a serial list-maker.  I like for everything to be prepped and laid out and ready to go well ahead of time.  (This is the point when Reality sticks its head in and asks, "How's that going for you?" To which I reply, "Shut up, Reality.  My lists and plans have nothing to do with you.")  I know my capabilities and I know my limits, and I have sought repeatedly to arrange my life accordingly.  It doesn't happen.

My plans leave no room for error.  My plans leave no room for other people.  (Just ask the man to whom I showed my 10 year plan, who gently pointed out that it left no room for him.  That man is now my husband.  Honey, I'm sorry it took me SO LONG to abandon that list.)  My plans are made to fit me, and me alone.

Prom 2001, Smiling because we are oblivious to the future

All my adult life, my plans have been disrupted and subsequently abandoned.  This used to throw me into a tailspin.  I would sit in the dust of my unfulfilled goal and wail.  At 22, as I was planning a wedding and preparing to marry the man who didn't fit into my plans, I was also returning to church.  I was coming back with fresh eyes and an open heart and the message I heard was one of surrender.  Stop trying to force my way and my vision (it wasn't working anyway), and join God's plan.  Connect in my time and place with the Way that has spanned all of human history.  Learn God's heart and see God's vision of what life is all about.

Romans 5:6 "When we were utterly helpless, Christ came at just the right time and died for us sinners."

This is one thing I've learned about God:  He's an "at just the right time" kind of guy.  He's not a "plan ahead" fellow.  He's not a "10 Steps to a Better You" list maker.  He is the Creator of the Universe and He reveals Himself along the way.  And for good reason.  If I could see my entire life played out at the age of 16 or 20 or even now, I would run and hide and scream and cry.  I wouldn't want to go through the hard times.  I wouldn't want to bury the loved ones.  I wouldn't want to open myself up.  The life I live now would have terrified me at 16.  Everything needed to happen at just the right time.

My plan: Family picture
Reality: Tears and Gnashing teeth

At just the right time...I opened up.

At just the right time...love came in.

At just the right time...I became a wife.

At just the right time...I became a mother.

At just the right time...I realized my purpose.

At just the right time...I was called out of the pew and into the front.

God's timing is NOT my timing.  But God's plan is becoming my plan.  God's heart is becoming my heart.  And He is calling not just me, but YOU.  He is ready if you are willing.  He will meet you...at just the right time.

IF: LoveCanton

On Life-Changing Moments

"Don't think for a moment that because you're in the palace 

you will escape when all other Jews are killed.

If you keep quiet at a time like this, deliverance and relief 

for the Jews will arise from some other place, 

but you and your relatives will die.

Who knows if perhaps you were made queen

for just such a time as this?"    

Esther 4:13-14

Life is full of moments, of decisions that will change our lives.  Movies convince us they are easy to spot, like that magical first kiss when you realize you have found the one who completes your heart.  I wouldn't know about that.  The word that comes to mind when I think of my first kiss with the man who became my husband is awkward.  Two 18 year olds tentatively looking out opposite windows of an old Buick, wanting to move forward and yet terrified of messing it up somehow.  And yet, for all the fear, there is an underlying certainty.  This is it...this is what comes next.  There was fear when I held that pregnancy test in my hand one early Saturday morning, there was fear as I considered turning in my notice and becoming a full-time at home mother.  But there was also a sense of rightness.  And as we became licensed foster parents, fear was never far away, wondering what the future would hold for us all.  But we did it, we kept completing the steps, because we knew, in some inexplicable way, we knew it was the right thing for us, for just such a time as this.

A year ago, I had a conversation that once again marked a life change for me.  I didn't know it at the time, as it was shrouded in that familiar cover of fear.  See, I was talking to my pastor's wife, a pastor in her own right if we're being totally honest.  I was telling her about a women's conference I had heard about, a conference that we could host in our very own town, in our very own church!  For once, I wouldn't have to miss out on something new and exciting, because it would be right down the street.  And she listened and she nodded, and she said yes, we could host this conference.  But only if I did the work.  Her life was entering a big transition, and she wouldn't be able to do any of the preparation.  So if I wanted to have the event, I needed to make it happen.  In about 6 weeks.  With no experience in planning such an event.  With no confidence in myself as a leader, as someone who could put her name on something and accept full responsibility for the outcome.  The fear was bountiful, but so was the belief that I had to try.  If not me, then who?  If not now, then when?

IF: Local February 2014

On the advice of my pastor's wife (again, she is just as much a pastor herself, I should really drop the wife part), I gathered a team, just a few women who also said yes with little information but with a great desire to be part of it.  There wasn't time for advertising, for decorations, for all that I would have liked to do.  I was worried that no one would come; I was worried that many would come.  I had  to admit often that I just didn't know.  I didn't know what to expect, I didn't know how it would turn out, I didn't know if I was getting it all wrong.  But I followed through, and the weekend came, and...women showed up!  Women I'd never met had heard about it online or through word of mouth.  The live stream worked.  The speakers were powerful, the message clear.  We are all like Esther, in our places, in our communities, in the lives of others for just such a time as this.  It's scary to leave that comfortable seat, that well-situated status quo.  After all, no one would blame me for not opening my home to traumatized children.  No one would ever know the burdensome secrets that I carried.  No one, not even myself, would be aware of wasted potential as I sat quietly, week after week, year after year, letting others lead.  When the time has come for me, over and over, I have only been able to see it all clearly in retrospect.  The moments are a jumble of emotions, of deliberation.

This past week, I experienced two clear moments.  The first came on Wednesday, as I was in the midst of getting the children off to school and meeting with my Bible study ladies.  A phone call, in many ways so similar to that one we received three years ago.  Another baby, in need of a home.  It could change our lives again, the way Michael changed everything.  And yet, amidst the deliberations, the hurried texts between my husband and I, one thing was lacking.  That sense of rightness and certainty.  The fear was there, only in a new form.  What if we say no?  Are we the only ones who can help this baby?  What if we say no?  Will we be missing out?  Will another opportunity come, one that better fits our situation, our family schedule?  Is this our last chance?  We decided to decline.  We passed on the opportunity that didn't feel quite right, and prayed that it would be right for someone else.  Then Thursday came.  I met with a group of women, all gathered by that same pastor's wife.  You see, the conference is coming again in just 8 weeks.  I am hosting again this year, with much more confidence and excitement than last time, because I've seen what God can do through me, with all that I lack, that He can more than make up for it.  And these other women, they are hosting too.  Five of them came to my church for that weekend, and when they left, they vowed to be a part of it next time.  Not to just sit in the seats, but to open the doors.  Instead of just one conference in a small church in Northeast Ohio, this February there will be several.  Our whole state is lit up with locations offering the same opportunity to many more women.

Because life is full of moments, ones that will change us forever, creating new paths that we will follow into a great unknown.  We must recall Esther, her fearful crossroads, her life or the lives of her people?  The potential loss of reputation, of position versus the potential extermination of an entire race of innocent people.  The stakes may not be as high in our modern culture...or maybe they are.  These choices we make, they have the power to change us, to touch our souls, to echo through eternity.  Most likely, we will not have books written about us, there won't be festivals celebrating our bravery each year around the world.  But our obedience to do what is right...it matters.  It matters to the child who is no longer an orphan, to the homeless man who is offered shelter, to the person whose hope is renewed by an act of kindness, to the prisoner who is set free.  So do as Esther did.  Use all that you have in the place God has given you.  Remember that He is sufficient for all that you lack.  Remember that deliverance and relief can come from anywhere, but you will miss it if stay silent.

"If God is real, then we want more than anything to live like it."  Jennie Allen, founder of IF

Calling

Lately, our church has been focused on callings.  Our pastor distributed wood blocks and told us to place the blocks in our place of calling, or with the people we are called to, and take a picture.  This is where we are to serve.  This is where we are to behave as Jesus.  This is where we are ministers and mentors and mothers.

What strikes me about callings is that we all have them.  Yes, even YOU...you sitting at the computer late at night, you who identifies as atheist or agnostic or secular humanist, you who wonders if you have any purpose at all.  God is calling YOU.  Because you have worth.  You have a unique perspective.  Your calling is the sum total of your life experiences.

When you see injustice and your heart burns...God is calling you.

When you see people hurting and your heart breaks...God is calling you.

When you see what COULD BE and your heart races...God is calling you.

God is calling you to do what?  Sometimes God calls you to stand.  He says, "GET UP!"  He makes a path and he asks you to walk it with Him.  The church can spend all day talking, but God wants action.  He wants you to be uncomfortable.  He wants you to do something new.  He wants your skills and your passion and your potential.

Sometimes God calls you to sit.  Yes, really.  The human body was not made to stand indefinitely.  At some point we all need to take a rest.  So SIT DOWN.  Let someone take their turn to stand.  Pass the baton.  We mistake sitting as something to be ashamed of.  God wants you to sit with your children and color a picture.  God wants you to sit at a table and feed His people.  God wants you to sit and rest for the next season.

Sometimes God calls you to kneel.  At some point, we all must bow before Him.  Before you can sit, before you can stand, you have to KNEEL.  You have to surrender your right to be right, your selfishness, your comfortable hole in the ground.  You have to give it all up to answer the call.  God doesn't ask us to kneel to humiliate us.  On our knees, we don't find degredation.  No, we find a Father who loves us, who lifts us off the ground and seats us at the place of honor.  Once we kneel, we find celebration, a glimpse of what the world can be when all of us are living our calling. 

Imagine if we all lived our purpose.  Imagine if we all acted on the calling and set the world right.  What would you be doing?

On Dreaming

A few years ago, as our Family Village was beginning and we were getting to know our leaders, Joe and Mandy, better, I began to read her blog.  It was a great way to learn more about her and her family, because she writes about funny things her kids say, her relationships, the crazy things she does at home (like throwing water on her husband or wearing underwear on her head), and most frequently, about following Jesus.  I remember one post in particular, in which she said that she and Joe were up late dreaming big dreams.  This post struck me because I realized I've lost the ability to dream.  I don't stay up late talking about my dreams because I don't have any.  When did that stop?  When did limits and shortcomings replace the "We Girls Can Do Anything Like Barbie" mentality that I was raised on?

I think its that I used to dream for me, my imagination running wild with what I would do, where I would go, how I would matter.  And some of those dreams came true, and some didn't, and I learned that I can't do everything.  I will never win American Idol or pilot a plane around the world (although I did fly one for about 15 minutes).  Some of my dreams were cast aside to make room for a new reality, and at this point in my life, I'm happy to be the mom of three beautiful boys instead of US Ambassador to France.  But there were no new dreams, no goals to reach.  I didn't think much of the future beyond what the weather would be like the next day or if we would be able to afford a vacation the next summer.  My life and my focus became so...narrow.  When I heard terms like "vision-casting", I just rolled my eyes and cynically thought, If it hasn't happened before, its not likely to happen now either.  Feeding the hungry, eradicating poverty, changing the world...it sounded like a children's story, with an ending wrapped in a nice little bow.

At this same time, as I was losing faith in myself and life became monotonous, a new hope was also taking root in my heart.  A hope in Someone greater than myself.  A Someone who wasn't limited by time, space, or ability.  And its that same Someone who enables Joe and Mandy to dream big about their mission, the people they lead and the way they live.  And I was reminded this past weekend at the IF: Gathering that following God (the One True God, the God of the Universe, the Alpha and Omega) means living with a purpose, a calling that is from Him.  "Your calling is where your talents and your burden collide," Rebecca Lyons declared.

Last night, I lay in bed with my husband, and we dreamed big dreams.  We talked about our burdens, the people that are never far from our thoughts, the ones we are broken-hearted for.  We talked about actually doing something, acting soon (immediately even) to reach them.  We talked about real things we can do by the end of this month to follow through.  And maybe those small steps, those quiet little Yes's will grow and blossom and become formal programs or big events.  But when we ask God to show us where we fit in His plan, instead of trying to get Him to show up in the ways we think best, it doesn't matter.  We dream, and He turns it into a beautiful reality.

In the Wilderness

A few weeks ago, I sent this message to the women of my Village, inviting them to join me at our IF: Local this weekend....

"Lately, I've been reading the gospels, and for the first time, I've been identifying with John the Baptist.  (Usually I am put off by the eating-locusts-living-in-the-wilderness-crazy-eyes part of his story)  He is described as "a voice shouting in the wilderness, 'Prepare the way for the Lord's coming!'" (Luke 3:4)  And this made me think, we are still living in the wilderness.  There are predators and dangers all around us, and some of us go for such a long time without a proper spiritual meal, existing on whatever we can find along the way.  God has been working on my heart to come out of the wilderness, to eat and drink from his word and to stop walking that fine line between good and evil.  And I want other women to experience this refuge that I've found, which is why IF has become so important to me.  I see the same heart for women in the speakers and planners of this event, and that's why I hope you'll find some time to join me.  If you can only come for one session, please do.  Even three hours of encouragement and community can go a long way in the wilderness of our souls."

Friday night, the conference began.  We were ready.  We came in, not knowing what to expect, hoping for the best.  And the women in Austin DELIVERED.  One after another, they spoke, they shared, they preached.  When Christine Caine came on the stage, I thought surely there is no way she can top what has already come.  I didn't know anything about her.  But she began to speak, and she directed us to Joshua 5, to the story about Joshua circumcising all the men because a generation had DIED in the wilderness, and the new generation had to rise up to take their place.  The previous generation had been delivered from slavery, but never made it to the full life, the freedom promised, the land flowing with milk and honey.  "Why settle for deliverance when we could be free?" Christine asked.  And so the next generation entered the Promised Land when all their parents had died.  Even Moses died in the wilderness; Joshua took over and finished the journey.  I'm not going down like that.  I AM NOT DYING IN THE WILDERNESS.  I am ready for something new, in my life, in my church, in this world.  I'm grabbing freedom, because free people free people.  "Let go of the weights and sin that entangle you," she said.  "Usher in the Second Coming," she proclaimed.

We weren't meant to wander in the wilderness, and we weren't meant to stay up on the mountain.  Those places are glimpses that we are to take with us into real life, into the endless cycle of laundry and dishes and hugs and crying eyes and REAL PEOPLE.  Come out and come down, but not the same.  Bring a changed heart and a new life to the world.  Abide in the truth of God's word, because the Truth sets you free.

If God is real, then what?
Then I believe.  I believe that I have a unique place in his Body, that I'm not redundant or unnecessary, like an appendix or a male nipple.