Maundy Thursday.

Jesus washed their feet

Jesus served their meal.

Jesus shared His heart.

Knowing all along they would betray Him. 

He is the definition of unconditional love.

Love someone unconditionally today,

wash their feet,

serve them,

share your heart.

It's like saying we support the troops but not the war.

I knew there was a reason I was uncomfortable with the Jets' acquisition of Tim Tebow. This guy dimed me out. It was because I saw Tebow as a football player who was a Christian and not as a Christian football player who's primary purpose was as an evangelist/missionary. After all, isn't that who all of us are that claim Christ as our Lord? We are not moms who are Christians, we are Christian moms, Christian doctors, Christian lawyers, Christian FBI agents. THAT puts a different spin on who we are when we walk into the office, whether the office has a sink and a fridge or blood pressure cuffs, law libraries, or guns and ammo

Tim Tebow as a Jet

.

God, forgive me for forgetting what I think is one of the most important perspectives we, as American Christians fail to embrace. There is a difference between a Christian football player and one who is a football player and occasionally mentions some faith that he "doesn't wear on his sleeve".

We Christians need to take a look at those in the "lime-light" that carry our torch for us bravely and honorably. Sometimes we need to support the RIGHT guy regardless of what team he plays on or what we (in our self-made expert's mind) think about his "skill level". WE need to support a guy who is willing to undergo unbelievable persecution (or as much as American Christians know of persecution) because he is the best of who we say we are.

I was hoping for a nice transfer to Jacksonville, FL where it was always sunny and there was a church on every corner. Where, for some reason, it was easier to route for his team. The above mentioned article reminded me of why, if God wants to transform a bunch of pigskin throwers, He never intended Tebow to end up in FL. Tebow's job, his purpose on this earth, has less to do with winning football games (much less) than it does with providing the saving knowledge of Jesus Christ in a new and possibly more powerful way to people in a state that has been, as a whole, sadly in the dark for what seems like ever.

Zach Johnson

I have felt for a couple of years now that God is moving into New York. It's not a place I care to EVER go - even for a visit... EVER. (I better be careful - God loves it when I make comments like that). But there are a lot of Christians and Christian organizations who have been called to carry their shovels across the border and begin shoveling the mess that is New York (especially the city) out and set up the lamp stands that are missing to carry the Light of the World.

It behooves us to pray for the likes of Tebow, Jeremy Lin,  Zach Johnson to name just a few. These guys are continually undermined by those who hate the name of Christ whether it be fans of their team, commentators of their sport, or their own teammates purely because they force us all to look at ourselves in the mirror and evaluate ourselves in the eyes of our Creator God. these outspoken Christians are the ones that set US up for the applause or the spittle that comes at us from every corner.

Jeremy Linn

With the Manning/Tebow debacle (yes I view it as such) of late I have seen Facebook posts by some who I know claim Christ say "I like him as a guy but as a player - not at all". I view that as akin to "I support the troops but not the war." Candidly, I don't think either is possible. You cannot support men and women who spend their days (and even their very lives) immersed in something you don't approve of. There is just no way that is possible. If you really think it is then I am just not as compartmentalized as I have always believed I am - you have me beat - huge - and ask my friends... that is hard to do.

Equally, I think, if you are a Christian and tired of seeing Tebow's name everywhere and roll your eyes in the midst of discussion regarding him whether it's the trade or his faith, then maybe you need to reassess. After all, it's not like he stunk it up for Denver last season. Admit it, you may not like his throw but he saved their season. You may not like his "no-holds barred" attempt at running the ball when there's no chance to throw but he led them to a winning season AND he never took the credit for himself.

For those of us in the Jackson, MS area and especially those of you who love baseball, we have our own opportunity to support a guy coming to play with our own MBraves. His name is Todd Cunningham and he's a precious young man who loves the Lord and wants every young person to see his/her abundant life waiting for them should they just embrace it. I will be honest, I cannot stand baseball - I mean seriously, passionately dislike the game, but I will be attending a few games this year SOLELY because I want to support Todd. It will have nothing to do with his team or his performance (although if he has a good game I will be delighted) but because he needs all the emotional and physically present support that he can get as he tries to reach all of those around him for Christ.

Todd Cunningham

I know that your sport is important to you and you like to see it played the way YOU want it played. I am just asking you to think about REthinking your perspective. If you have a chance to support a guy (or gal) who is "all in" with their Christian walk and just happens to be a pretty decent player, maybe, just maybe, you might consider supporting him, her, or their team ONLY because you want to see the evangelist/missionary who throws the football, dribbles the basketball, and/or swings the club or bat see some success and I'm not talking about points on a scoreboard.

To live is Christ, To die is gain.

In Philippians 1:21 Paul told the church that for him "To live was Christ and to die was gain". It wasn't really hard for me to understand what he meant once I understood what the abundant life in Christ was and then even more-so grasped the joy of Heaven. It took on another face to me when I stepped foot into God's Acre, a Moravian graveyard, one of the first in this country in Winston-Salem, NC just last week. (you can read more about them here ).  

The entrance to "God's Acre" Old Salem.



Michael and I were surprised to see a grave yard with acres and acres of white marble (or granite) stones. All the same, nothing different except the names on the stones. 
Actually, there is more to it than that. The Moravians believe their cemetary should reflect heaven. In that case there is nothing to show rich or poor, white or black, and the only separation is the separation that took place in their Sunday School "choir". A Choir in a Moravian church is a set apart group of people. The women from the men, the married from the unmarried, the children from the adults. That is how they are buried. Each "acre" has a group of people segregated not by their family but by their choir.

They understood clearly that in Heaven there is no need for marriage. Family units will not hold the level of importance that they do here.

I have to admit though, I almost gasped when I realized that families weren't buried together. 

I first fell in love with cemeteries after Rebekah died. Yes, I said I was in love with them. I used to walk around her cemetery for hours just reading the head stones trying to put pieces together. Who belonged to whom and what may have happened to cause their death.  Never once did I ask myself "I wonder what their life was like?"

Walking through God's Acre that is really the only question that you want to ask. The reason is that almost all the headstones have Scripture verses on them. Most of them aren't the typical verses that you would see on a headstone. I found a couple young married men who died before their 30th birthday. One of their stones had Job 1:21 on it. Typical, really, for a family to put atop the stone of a young father leaving behind a grieving wife and parents. I would suppose the wife chose that verse. It probably helped her as much as anything else would have to stand up under her circumstances. 

I loved the one of  Mrs. Ivory Ayers. She must have been a very simple woman who put her faith into practice in very obvious and practical ways. After all, what is more simple and practical than

 "Only Sleeping"

And how much more correct could she be?

John Oakley's stone had a bit more information. His told us that he was a Father. Of course the Moravians would have known that by where he was buried. I found it interesting that some of the other headstones of women not only mentioned the woman's name but stated under it "the wife of:" and gave her husband's name as well. 

Mr. Oakley's scripture verse is Isa 26:3. He knew that not only HE would be kept in perfect peace but so would that of his loved ones as he waited for them in paradise. 

BUT...

Here's my question. What was it about their lives that prompted the verses or words that were placed on their headstones? 

I don't know if they instructed their families in what was to be put on their stones or if their wives or children or parents chose the verses for them. Surely, though, the verses on their headstones must have some reflection on the lives they led. 

At least, I am convinced that is true. One stone that I am sad I didn't have a picture of was of a woman with three very Gospel spreading verses. I knew she HAD to have been on fire for the Lord and MUST have shared Him with everyone she knew in life, she certainly was insistant upon continuing to share in her death. 

I didn't really want to leave. There were more stones to read. More images to plant in my mind of who all these people were and how all these people lived. 

I suddenly wanted to stay. Just for about six months. I knew there were grandchildren and great grandchildren and maybe even great - great grandchildren that had memories of these people buried in God's Acre. There must have been stories told even records kept that I could get some insight from. Can you imagine reading a story about M. Rosco Sigeloff and to learn that he had a personal impact on every person he knew. That the message he left on his stone was powerful because no one that knew him came away from an encounter with him the same. 

I do have a writer's heart, I really do. I don't have the time to be one, unfortunately, but this time, more than ever, I am pulled by a desire to meet these families and know these men and women and to learn what it was about their lives that are reflected in their death. These words are the ONLY thing these people have left to speak. There are powerful reasons why these are the words that they want associated with them. 

Of course, I'd be remiss if I didn't reflect myself. 

I will tell you a secret - I have planned my funeral. Well, most of it. And I've planned Michael's too (only he doesn't know it and may be a bit creeped out by that fact... or maybe he'll begin to sleep with one eye open). When Rebekah died I realized what a vulnerable state almost everyone is in that sit in a funeral home or church sanctuary or grave side. Even those who don't believe in God or refuse to acknowledge him, while looking at the casket of someone they have some semblance of relationship with, contemplate their own eternity. It's imperative that in death, we leave something behind. Something of meaning, something of ourselves for those who are left behind to grasp on to and to run with. Every person who loved one of these in God's Acre have that. A Bible verse, a wise saying, a written memory. They have a statement from that person that confirms for their loved one that IT is not over. Life goes on, not just for those left behind but for those who are no longer greeting them at the door or kissing them goodnight. That death is just a temporary thing and through Jesus Christ they will all, one day, be rejoicing together in Heaven. What better gift can a dying father, mother, husband, wife, or child give to those they leave behind. 

And then I saw it. Revelation 21:4 "He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain for the old order of things has passed away." That is Rebekah Joy's verse. It's on her headstone in Mt. Pleasant, SC. Very far from her mommy and daddy and yet with just a flip of a few pages she's right there with us. It is so, the verses, the sayings, the words on that block of stone. They reflect the lives of those who have gone on but just as Rev 21:4 brings warmth to our hearts and loving tears to our eyes, those words on the stones do just the same for those who are left behind in Winston-Salem, NC. 

Shhhh, it's ok to yell....

Wow, it's been a long time since I've posted. I have actually wanted to post several times over the last couple of weeks but between starting a new blog here and all the paperwork we have been doing for Elli's adoption I've sorta not felt like writing much.

But after our Wednesday night worship service I've been doing a lot of thinking. And being the lucky folks that you are, you get to read about those thoughts. Wow, isn't technology great?

I don't like to be yelled at, ever. But especially by someone behind the pulpit who is trying to share, teach, encourage, etc. me in my walk with Christ. I have some really favorite pastors, none of them are yellers. Most of them are my favorites because of something they have said at one time or another that have impressed me.

John MacArthur

Take John MacArthur for instance. He's really an amazing teacher. I will bet another pastor would be hard pressed to honestly say they spend more time in the Word than he does on any given day. I love to hear him preach, I love to read his books, I have almost all of them and I have years of CD's that line my shelves since I've been a partner with Grace To You (MacArthur's audio ministry) for almost 20 years. What is it that makes me love him besides his preaching/teaching style? It's the fact that he is willing to admit that he can't always explain what he studies and concludes from God's word and yet it's undeniably there. He's not all about saying what HE THINKS, he's all about teaching what CHRIST SAYS. I respect that about him.

John Piper

I also love John Piper. I don't always agree with him as often as I do with MacArthur. He's a very different kind of man. He and MacArthur are friends but very different personalities. If I was a man, a pastor/teacher, I'd be John MacArthur. Piper is very emotional and yet, I've never heard him actually raise his voice, actually YELL at those he's speaking to. I hopped on the Piper bandwagon the day I heard him talk about "invitations". I am not an invitation person. I don't like them (MacArthur doesn't give them). I do, however, understand the logic behind them. One day I heard a message Piper gave and at the end he gave an invitation but he told his congregation that they are NOT to close their eyes and bow their heads. He told them that there is no shame and embarrassment in walking forward with the encouragement and enthusiasm of those in the crowd. He put it much more eloquently than that but you have the gist of it. He sold me that day.

Francis Chan and David Platt

Then there's almost everyone's current favorites, Francis Chan and David Platt. There is too much to say and if you don't know who these guys are you are missing out on incredible teaching, amazing writing, and a renewed hope for the future of the American Church. Both of these men have put their "money where there mouth is" by sacrificing thriving ministries to help young women in the Asian sex trade, as Chan did last year, as well as putting money, time, and safety on the line by helping grow the underground churches all over the world as Platt does with his Secret Church Seminars. They are young, honest, and Biblical. There is no "Christianity Lite" coming from their taps. I've listen and watched and have yet to be yelled at by either of them. And still they manage to enable me to dig deep into my soul and ask myself the hard questions.

My list for God

But Wednesday a man whom is known and beloved by many came to church and yelled at me. His name is Johnny Hunt. He is no stranger to Southern Baptists and may even be easily recognized and beloved by Georgia Christians especially in the Atlanta, GA area not far from where his church in Woodstock, GA is located. He, too, is a wildly passionate man, much like Piper is. He puts his whole being into his preaching and as far as I can tell walks every word of his talk. He gets his audience fired up and leaves them wanting more. That's an awesome thing for a motivational speaker but I don't want one of those, I want a Bible teacher. He did share scripture and his thoughts on many, many verses, after all, he knows his Bible. But instead of just sitting back and enjoying the evening (which is not always a bad thing to do, I'd just rather be LEARNING something if I'm sitting in the sanctuary) I was abruptly taken aback when he asked us if we made lists. LISTS???? What was he talking about? He was talking about the way we make lists of things that sound good, look good, and even feel like they are nudges from the Holy Spirit. We write them down on paper, and we pray: "Dear Lord, here is my future, here is what I want to do for you, here is what I want to do for my family, here is where I want to live, who I want to marry, what I want to devote my life to. Please bless it. Amen"  Most of us just looked around with inquisitive stares all along knowing that he was about to yell at us again. The veins were beginning to protrude from his neck.

God's list for me.

This was the list he wanted us to make. He wanted us to sit down in a quiet place. He wanted us to just be still and listen. He wanted us to take a blank sheet of paper and at the bottom, sign our name. Then he wanted us to pray this: "Dear Lord, Here is my life, it is yours, make YOUR list for me, do with it as you please. I am here to glorify you in any and every way you choose. I love you. Amen."

...and the place erupted. I hated that #2 son wasn't there to hear from someone other than his father and I that it's OK to just "let go and let God" (tired old saying but more true the older I get). I snapped my head to the right to see if son #3 was paying attention. He's just beginning to dream big dreams and I wanted him to understand to make sure to leave those dreams loose enough to let go of them if those weren't the dreams that God was dreaming for him. Then I looked deep within my soul, and sighed. I thought about all the stuff I'd "written down" for God to bless. Never once spending the time to really ASK Him if they were things He wanted from the life He created to do His will and bring Him glory.

I still don't like to be yelled at. Thinking back to Wednesday night though, I wonder if he could have really spoken to our guts the way he did without raising his voice, without most of us worrying that he was going to have a coronary right there on our stage. I am pretty sure he had the attention of everyone over the age of 5 in that room. With what he had to say, maybe yelling was the best way to do it. So, in spite of his loud bursts of enthusiasm that regularly come from Pastor Johnny Hunt, I think that just for those thoughts he goes on my favorites list.

Still, I am thankful for the guy that I see regularly on our stage each Sunday. He tells it like it is, he steps on
toes and makes us squirm. He reaches for the souls of everyone sitting in front of him and desires that each of us know Christ intimately and fully. He challenges me every week and I am sure sometimes he wonders what I am thinking if he glances my way. Most of the time my wheels are turning, grinding, screeching, as I ponder just how my life compares to the life that Christ wants for me and died for. He does it all and I don't remember him ever yelling. It'd be ok if he did but I just don't think that's the way he rolls.

Jimmy Meek
Senior Pastor Colonial Heights Baptist Church

Johnny Hunt said something else Wednesday night that has me thinking. He said that if we spend more on anything in any given month than we've spent on the church we need to question it. THAT my friends is a whole other blog post.

May the Merriest of Christmases be YOURS!

Today is the big day... big is so many respects. Big because it's arguably the best Holiday of the year. Big because for some retail chains this holiday puts them in the black after months of seeing red. Big because some families are spending time together for the first time in years. Big because some families are not together for the first time in years. For almost everyone in the world, today is the Big Day.

Except for some it's not. I have to admit that I am a little sad when I walk the dog in my neighborhood and I see the houses with absolutely no decorations announcing their commitment to Christmastime. Those are the houses that belong to the Muslims and Hindu's of our neighborhood. I know that they have their own celebrations that in their country, when the time comes, they get very enthusiastic over but all the celebrating in the world won't hide the fact that they celebrate in vain. Whatever it is they celebrate, whomever it is they celebrate does not promise Eternal Life with the Almighty Creator. It does not celebrate His coming to Earth to be LIKE US... YUCK! Seriously? What Almighty King and Lord and Creator would do that? Why, a King would never stoop so low as to BECOME like his creation, His peasants, His underlings.

When was the last time that thought entered YOUR mind?


Possibly NEVER? It's ok, After all we live in a Representative Republic (hate to break it to you but we really aren't a democracy and really, it's better that way) we have no real understanding, as citizens of a young country but old enough not to have members still alive that remember the origins of our great nation. It's a bit of a shame though because we cannot fully understand what it means to call Christ our Lord and King. There are people all over the world who wake up every morning to face life as citizens of Monarchies and Dictatorships. Some with leadership more benevolent than others. Regardless of how kind and gracious their King or Queen or Despot is they are completely aware of how confined and manipulated their lives are compared to ours. That is why most who live under those political systems want desperately to come live under ours.

In reality, those who become believers in those foreign lands - openly or secretly - have a far better understanding and grasp on who Christ is and what it meant for him to give up

"His divine privileges; He took the humble position as a slave and was born as a human being"


Much of Philippians 2 tells us about exactly WHO this Jesus Christ is. If you are living in a Monarchy or Dictatorship you marvel at what you read about Him. If you are a Monarch or Dictator you shake your head in disgust and assume Jesus is a lie or just insane. Maybe that is why the predominant religions of those types of political systems are not Christianity.

We have seen movies that show us story lines of princes or princesses that reject (in theory) their opulent lifestyle and by chance find someone to take their place in the palace in order that they can "live like the common man". Their reasons are always completely selfish and know that their experiment will end upon the slightest whisper of disappointment or disgust. In the end they learn lessons they need to learn about being humane leaders when their time comes but end up continuing to bask in their riches usually being a bit more gracious to their peasants and leave everyone feeling better about their futures. Awwwww.

But our King and Lord knew exactly what He was getting into when He CHOSE to be obedient to His Father and walk away from an existence He was perfectly happy with. There was no selfishness in His desire to come to earth and give up everything to experience a lifestyle He thought might be more fulfilling. Just typing those words makes me laugh at the idea of it. It's preposterous. I, for one, would NEVER do that, EVER!

That is because I am selfish, self-centered, and self-absorbed. Even when I think I'm not, I am. Even when I'm at my most altruistic I am not so. There is never a time when thoughts about myself, in one way or another, don't enter my mind. Even if at some point I were to be someone who could appear to give up everything for those less fortunate than I... blah, blah, blah. I would still, in the back of my mind be thinking about what a great person I am to do that. But you better believe the moment the whole "crucify Him" thing would rear it's ugly head I'd be calling on my "king daddy" to rescue me from the idiots that live in our Kingdom who obviously don't know a good thing when they see it.

The older I get, the more of life I live, the more time I accumulate in the Word, the more I realize I cannot fathom who Jesus Christ really is. Until the last couple of years MJF and I worked consistently to help our kids understand what really should be focused on this date every year. But until the last couple of years I never really felt the reading of Philippians 2:5-11 might need to be read on one side or the other of the Christmas story we insist upon reading before diving under a tree decorated with lights and baubles and littered underneath with packages wrapped in delightfully colored paper.

Christmas 1994

Now that my kids are older, there wouldn't be much arguing if I added a couple of verses to our Christmas morning scripture reading. I'm just not sure they'd appreciate it any more than they ever truly appreciate the Word of God. What I mean to say is this - they cannot truly appreciate Philippians 2:5-11 because they have no idea what it means to be a king and shed his royalty nor do they understand what it's like to live under the headship of a king/despot who chooses to shed his royalty on behalf of his citizens.

Here we live, in a country, I believe, was ordained and blessed by God, yet we understand less of who He really is and what He really did because of our system of government. Ironic.

So next time you imagine Jesus Christ try to imagine his walking away from all His riches, and power, and strength, and might, and walking into the womb of a poor Jewish girl knowing FULL WELL what was ahead of Him. It's a powerful picture. Makes you wish you could start all over with your kids and put a whole new spin on Christmas, doesn't it?

The reality of WHO that little baby was - who as an infant He knew He was and yet submitted to be - that's a powerful thing to celebrate...

Merry Christmas my friends. Rejoice, the Lord has come! Praise His Holy Name.

Happy Christmas Eve...

The day before... that is an amazing thought. The day before brings so much excitement and anticipation. It's all in your head. You have no real idea of what is coming. Such is true with Christmas Eve. #2 son says he likes Christmas Eve better than Christmas Day. Even in his 18 year old mind and body lurks a little boy who each year is disappointed by what is opened on the big day. He's the only one that I could never really get to grasp fully why what sat under the tree wasn't really important and even less so was whether it met his expectations. I pray that as he ages and begins his own family that he will embrace what Christmas is all about, always has been, always will be. It's funny though, because we never thought our kids would be "one of those kids". After all, Santa was not a part of our lives - his name is not even allowed to be mentioned in front of dad. Dad can't stand Santa. Not because the man who existed first was anything bad but because of what he has become. Something I am sure he would recoil at and tear up over.

Santa or no Santa, it's our job to instill the level of anticipation in our kids. They always play off our lead and when we work hard at helping them to understand all that Christmas is, especially that without Easter, Christmas is meaningless (another reason we don't invite the Easter Bunny over on Resurrection Day). So here we are, up incredibly late and well into the morning of Christmas Eve. A big day for us because for #2 Son and I... well, it is our favorite. Why we love our stockings and Christmas Eve PJ's so much is beyond me but even as a child I adored my stocking stuffers more even than the presents that greeted me the next day.

It will be very different for us this year, though. We will be Skyping with #1 Son instead of opening presents together in the same room. He is so self controlled... really he is. I sent him a little tree and some presents to put under it and they are just sitting there until we unwrap them tonight and some more tomorrow. We will have church tonight as well. An evening of singing glorious songs to our Lord and Savior with thanksgiving in our hearts for His submission to His Father in setting aside his glorious body to reduce Himself to becoming a man. The humiliation is something I cannot fathom and frankly, I try not to think about it. It's something I'd never love many people enough to do. He loved a world of people that didn't even acknowledge Him.

The reality of my rescue, the hope I have in heaven has never been more real to me than it has in the past several weeks.

But when the fullness of the time had come, God sent forth His Son, born of a woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, that we might receive the adoption as sons.

Galatians 4:4-6

Many of you read this blog post. I was honestly in despair and had no real idea of how I would possibly come out of it apart from a miraculous intervention from God. And as many of you know, He did intervene. In HIS way - a typical BIG, GOD way. He sent a precious sister in Christ who with her husbands consent, brought us a check for $8,000.00. It didn't take more than a nanosecond to realize that God didn't want us to back off of the adoption hopes and dreams, He wanted us to back off of our personal control of those hopes and dreams. Yes, He could have made my jewelry worth thousands more than what we were eventually offered but honestly, would we have hit our knees praising God? Not really, we would have been thankful that what MJF had so graciously gifted me with over the years ended up being a big helping of what we needed to bring home a little lost and hopeless girl. A little girl who needed rescuing. But when He speaks to the heart of a young couple with hopes and dreams of their own. Who have their own desires to save for necessities in order to be debt free and obedient to God with their finances. And yet, this is what they say... "We can get a new car later, there's a little girl in this world that can't wait until later."

Today, we are celebrating having finished a required Hague adoption course on line and diving into required reading. All of this and more to make positively sure we are the best family for one very special, precious little girl who has no idea what awaits her. But more than a warm bed and a loving family, toys and a dog and the opportunities she never could have had elsewhere - she will hear about a King who chose to reduce Himself to a man in order to walk amidst the worst of this world and then die for those of us, the worst, in order that we could be given eternal life in Heaven with God our Father. This little girl who has never known the love of a Father will not only bask in the love of an earthly father but will learn all about her Heavenly Father as well.

So, although today is the day before ... the day before He made His entrance into this dirty world in a dirty cave, to rest in a dirty manger, in some ways it's the day before for us as well. Although it will take months to accomplish the paperwork and other requirements that come with an International Adoption, it will feel like "the day before" the whole time. Each experience in the process will be new and we will be uncertain and yet excited. We will know that each time another expectation of us comes up we may be disappointed but it's ok because God's got it. This is HIS deal in every way, shape, and form. It has to be. None of us who embark upon this journey go into it with a savings account to handle the expenses. For most, someone handing them a check like we had handed to us would be a miracle of proportions they cannot fathom, however, it is not unfathomable to God. Psalm 50:10 says  He owns the cattle on a thousand hills... He owns it all. To speak to the hearts of His own adopted children to help provide $30,000.00 dollars to adopt a precious child in China is nothing to Him. That is true. But THAT is not what convinced me to put aside my wonder at just HOW that money was going to arrive. What convinced me that I needed to dive headfirst into this was that I completely trust Him with my Salvation. Which is harder to grant, Salvation or $30,000.00? Easy answer... we all know; yet we so rarely step out on financial faith.

Because MJF speaks Mandarin we are hoping
we can adopt from a province that speaks
Mandarin.

So, our 2012 journey is one that is more meaningful than any journey we've ever taken. We are embarking on an adventure to find our daughter. That little girl who God knew the day she was conceived - and even before - that she belonged to us - even if for just awhile. We believe she lives as an orphan in China. We believe, actually, that we have found her. It will be sometime in January before we are sure if that is so. In the meantime, please pray for us this year. We all have so much to learn about stepping out in faith and trusting in God for everything. We have two grown sons who, for the first time in their lives, may see the hand of God do incredibly more than they have ever imagined and for them, bringing this little sister home will signify their submission in totality to all that God wants them to be. For two younger siblings, they may find the joy of adoption to be one that will forever be etched into their being and may prove to shape the look and feel of their own families one day. For MJF and I, we are just amazed at how God works individually in our family. He knows us infinitely well. He knows that we still have years of service and that He continues to mold and to shape us into the people He wants and needs us to be. This experience will do that in the same way  Rebekah Joy's death did so many years ago. We will not return from China the same family that left. Besides adding a daughter and sister He will have added supernatural changes to who we all are and who we will become.

We wait in expectation as He leads us to the daughter only HE knew lived on the other side of the world.

Merry Christmas Eve.

May your hearts be tender toward the things of God as you reflect on the sacrifice a King made for you and for me and for a little China doll in an orphanage on the other side of the world.

Memories...

What memories do holidays bring? I hope they are all good though I suppose for some they aren't all good. For me, I have specific memories that rise to the surface every holiday. Thanksgiving is always the same, it includes my family and I with all my Aunts, Uncles, and many cousins all crammed into my Gramma and Grampa Anderson's home. The heat is on because we were in a little town called Sharon in Pennsylvania. The heat always seemed to be on, Gramma was itty bitty tiny and always freezing. The heat was never below 80 degrees - E.V.E.R.

Except for Thanksgiving day, the gathering place for the women was always in the kitchen and for the men, either in the living room or in the small TV room where there would be some football game playing constantly. THAT was long before cable TV and still it seemed the football never stopped that day. Gramma's house seemed to me, then, to be huge. I swear her dining room was 15 feet long and her dining room table was close to that I was sure. I know she could fit 20 people at her table - 20 adults that is.

 The worst part of the day was dinner - I always had to sit at the "children's table".

Until I was about 11 or 12, the children's table was fine. Most of the children were my age or just a tad older or younger and we had fun. Usually it was just a card table or two to fit the cousins who weren't yet older teens. Or the children the adults (meaning my Grampa) didn't feel like hearing from or speaking to during the meal. Don't get me wrong, my Grampa Anderson was awesome, at least as Grampas go. But he was tough and intimidating and unless you KNEW he was joking with you, you always wondered if you were in trouble. I don't ever remember getting in trouble with my Grampa so either I didn't or I have repressed it due to PTSD.

The only problem is that I never, ever, ever left the children's table. The older cousins - those older than I as well as one my age moved away and rarely returned for Thanksgiving. My father's younger siblings began having children and before I knew it my younger brother and I were the only "older" cousins left. No one would consider asking a boy to watch the little cousins at the children's table so I was it. And as the little cousins grew in number my brother was even promoted to the "adult" table.

Unlike my daughter who would have been honored to be the one to watch the little cousins during dinner, I was completely resentful. I detested every minute of time with the little cousins BUT I am not sure anyone ever knew it. I had good parents and they taught me how to behave. I had great grandparents who also taught me how to behave and I had plenty of aunts and uncles and much older cousins who were more than happy to help with my behavior instruction if necessary. We have lost a lot with all the moving our society has done over the past many years.

 I can't remember if we have ever eaten Thanksgiving dinner with our whole immediate family in 28 years of marriage. There are actual cousins and aunts and uncles that I ate Thanksgiving dinner with every year as a child that my husband doesn't even know.

I miss those days, sort of. I have fond memories - memories that flood my mind on Thanksgiving day every year but a lot has changed. Gramma and Grampa have both died. Aunts and Uncles have since divorced and remarried. Older and younger cousins have since gotten married and had children of their own and are eating Thanksgiving dinners at other homes with other family.

Kate, Sam, MJF, and Josh
Thanksgiving 2011
sans Drew

Things have changed for us as well. This Thanksgiving we are one short as we sit around our little kitchen table to eat Thanksgiving dinner. Drew is happily having Thanksgiving dinner on Beale AFB with a whole bunch of Airmen and NCOs courtesy of one of the Staff Sgt's. Apparently this is not uncommon. There are quite a few NCOs who foot the bill and invite all the young, unmarried and away from family Airmen to their homes to enjoy some form of family, even if it's their Air Force Family.

Before I know it, Sam too will be gone and behind him Josh and Kate. It seems that it will be awhile but I have learned how fast time flies. I am just hoping that as Josh and Kate grow up and leave home Drew and Sam will be returning with their own little ones and my role will change. I will be the one being called Gramma.

I guess I better start saving for a 15 foot long dining room table.

Happy Thanksgiving.