Sometimes I Write

O.K. Betty. You asked for it…
My dictionary defines “Saint” in the following terms:

1. A person officially recognized esp. by canonization, as being entitled to public veneration and capable of interceding for people on earth.
2. A person who has died and gone to heaven.
3. A member of any various religious groups, esp. a Latter-Day Saint.
4. An extremely virtuous person.

Then I pulled out my Thesaurus. It had these words listed: angelic, godly, holy, righteous, upright, upstanding, virtuous, worthy, devout, God-fearing, pious, sainted, etc…

O.K. So Christians are some of these things. I am not Catholic, so I don’t really understand the whole sainthood thing although I am familiar with a few like St. Nicholas, St. Patrick, St. Valentine, and St. Francis. I know that some call Mary and the apostles saints. There are many men and women honored with that title, but I’ve never met one of them.

Enter the denomination I grew up in. As I mentioned in my last post, we have a big thick book that lists all of our “sister” churches, or as we like to put it, the churches in the brotherhood. It is titled, “Where The Saints Meet”. I have always thought that title smacked of indignation for any other “brotherhood” of believers. This title unnerves me. Since when do we have the right to think we are the remnant of true believers, and everyone else is just a bit left of center, or even way off the path. I have been a recovering legalist for several years now, and though I still get twinges of “but I know I’m right and the scripture REALLY says this”, I am disappointed that I was taught to think that way. I was actually chastised as a teen for visiting youth group with friends from school. Our church didn’t even have one! Instead of some of the adults in my life being grateful for me being friends with other Christian teens, it seemed they were worried that I was socializing with kids that were being led astray and would end up in hell. Do other denominations feel that way? Some of the above mentioned people would be upset by my even saying we are a denomination. (rolling my eyes)

I have really struggled with my feelings about my denomination and at times I’ve wanted to flee, and have. Then I was made aware of some “unusual” churches in our brotherhood. Churches that changed their name on their sign so they would attract those that are turned off by the reputation we have gained as know-it-alls and exclusionists. Churches that welcome unwed pregnant women. Churches that gave vast amounts of money to support not only their own ministries within the body, but ministries in their communities started by other churches and organizations. A church that placed ashtray cans outside of their doors so the street kids who attended would get the message that they are welcome and wanted. Churches that had ministers and elders that had experienced the horrors of divorce firsthand. A church that had a minister come forward to admit an affair, and instead of showing him the door, they are surrounding him and loving him and his wife. (The outcome is not yet decided.)I even attended a church that instead of splitting like I hear about all the time, they merged with another church because they knew they had a lot to gain by building those relationships and becoming one. I attended one of these unusual churches last Sunday…you can read about it in a few days in my next post.

Where the saints meet? I believe that’s heaven. No matter how holy, righteous, God-fearing, and virtuous we become, we are still sinners. Everyone of us. I don’t want to be a part of a group that calls themselves saints when I know I won’t be able to live up to the title. I guess I’ll continue to worship at the places where the sinners meet. It’s where I belong and where I’ll stay until God has perfected me or He comes to take me home.

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What is the point? Are they there to communicate to the public or the church members?

I have seen so many stupid church signs over the past few years, that I’ve started a list. I’ve even seen a few that almost prompted me to stop and go in so I could slap, I mean talk to the minister that allowed that crap to be posted on the front lawn. My number one pick is still this one,

“Try Jesus…if you don’t like him I’m sure Satan will take you back!

Boy, I’m sure that convicted everyone that was unfortunate enough to drive by that church. (insert sarcastic cough here) It stayed posted for a whole month! Do people just not get it???

There are signs that are informational, signs that are loving, and signs that are neither of those. I remember rolling my eyes at some of the clever little phrases on our own church signs in the different places we’ve lived. If I’m rolling my eyes at it, what is the average non-church going Joe thinking about it?

So my question is…Who is the church sign for? The world, or the church?
I think the answer is the world since most signs have the hours of worship and Sunday school printed on, or flashing across them. The church members already know that information. There is also (sometimes) the words, “Come worship with us”, or some other friendly invitation. So why then does the community have to read phrases like, “God likes knee mail” or “Keep it up and I’ll make rush hour longer – God”? Who are those messages for? Should we be trying to win souls with our wit and humor on a billboard? Are they posted to convict the backsliding Christians?

If you’re going to communicate a message using a huge sign that thousands of people are going to see each day, why not say something loving, encouraging, welcoming, and forgiving? Those signs are out there too. How about, “Come to me all who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest – Jesus” (an actual sign) No sarcasm, nothing cutsie, just loving on whoever reads it, Christian or not. What a concept!

Another thing that cracks me up is our denomination’s big fat guide to all of our sister churches across the nation. It’s entitled “Where the Saints Meet” Funny, I’ve never met one that I know of. Cocky aren’t we? But that’s a blog for another day.

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Three more weeks until Zenith, the summer camp for high schoolers that I’ve been doing for 13 years. I love this camp! It’s a part of me.

I started volunteering at this camp while I was a college student, before I met Benny, and before I ever thought about doing youth ministry. I have watched it evolve over the years as youth ministers came and went, the location was moved, my husband got involved, and my responsibilities changed. I have seen hundreds of teens give their lives to the Lord, and hundreds recommit themselves to walking the walk. I have made friends with men and women that have had such a monumental impact on my life, whether they know it or not. I have agonized over some of the circumstances the teens have shown up at camp with, and counseled many girls about their worth as daughters of the King. I have cried as I saw men of faith fall to temptation and lose their ministries and their families because of it. I have suffered the loss of a woman I loved and worked under, the one who first brought me to this camp. Eight years ago she took her own life one month before camp. I have rejoiced with a man that had struggled in ministry finally being a part of a congregation that loved on him and his family. I have learned so many new songs and offered up so many prayers for the safety and growth of everyone who attends. I have learned valuable lessons from the most organized and detail-oriented man I know. He’d laugh if I ever called him a mentor. I have invited many friends to join me in this servant adventure, and I look forward to the day my children will experience this camp. I hope that I’ve loved and encouraged along the way as I have been by my brothers and sisters that are involved with this camp. May God meet us there once again this year!

As Nicole Nordeman says,

I want to leave a legacy
How will they remember me
Did I choose to love
Did I point to you enough to make a mark on things
I want to leave an offering
A child of mercy and grace who blessed your name unapologetically
And leave that kind of legacy.

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We got in touch with an old youth ministry friend this week. He was excited we had moved to town and asked where we live. When Benny told him, he said something like, “Man, I thought you were coming to do ministry…why are you living up there with all of the white people?” Benny told him that we don’t, we’re among the minority in our neighborhood. I know our friend was just teasing, but the more I’ve thought about his comment, the more disturbed I’ve gotten. (I’m probably taking this way too seriously.)

Denver, or atleast the area we live in, is predominantly Hispanic. I’m not sure why I never knew this, and not that it really matters to me. My sister-in-law is Hispanic and grew up here. I’ve heard her talk about Denver a lot and still this small fact eluded me. I have never been in the minority before and it is a strange, new experience. It reminds me of a conversation I once had with my friend Toine, my African American sister. She and I talked about what it’s like to be one of a few blacks in a predominantly white church. It also reminds me of our conversation with Max when we told him I was pregnant. We asked him what kind of baby he wanted us to have. We meant boy or girl, so we were shocked and laughed when he thought a minute and announced, “A black baby”.

The whole issue of race seems to be coming at me from several sources at once and I’m not sure why. It’s never been a big deal to me…Toine said that’s because I’m white. I’ve always had friends of different races and cultures and I’ve never had issues regarding that. I’m as white as they come, but I rest in the fact that God doesn’t care what color my skin is, yours either. It is strange that the race struggle is still around. I don’t get it, and I don’t like it. After Max’s announcement, we decided to buy him a black baby doll so we could begin teaching him how to care for his baby sister when she arrived (2 birds with 1 stone). I had a really hard time finding any baby dolls of color in the Indianapolis area. I asked a salesperson where I might find one, and she told me I’d have to drive to a certain section of Indy to find anything like that. I was shocked not by what she said, but by HOW she said it.

We get mixed reactions from people when we tell them we want to adopt from overseas. I’ve received much encouragement about it, but I’ve also received harsh criticism about it also. I’ve heard very loving Christian women I know tell me they thought it was a bad idea because my child would be an outsider in our family if their skin was a different color, and that it wouldn’t’ t be fair of me to remove a child from their culture and force them to be raised in a new one. One told me there are plenty of children right here in the U.S. that need adopting if my heart is set on adoption. Some people just don’t know when to shut up. We have thought it through and believe God has that in store for our future, and we are raising our children to know that it’s coming someday.

When we joined Compassion International, Max was so excited about Sabrina, our little girl from Brazil. He kept asking when we were going to get her and bring her home. He was very disappointed when we explained that even though she’s a part of our family now, she has a mommy and daddy already, and maybe someday we would visit her home, but we couldn’t bring her to live with us.

Back to our friend here in Denver. I was frustrated for a few reasons. 1. We live in a mobile home in a park, not a gated community. 2. We’re here to do ministry with anyone God places in our path, black, brown, white, or any other color. 3. The whole subject of race is frustrating to me on so many levels. I hope my Hispanic neighbors give me a chance and don’t just see me as a white girl in the neighborhood. I am raising my children to see people’s hearts and not the color of their skin. I’m thankful God is a God of variety and not everyone is as pasty as me. 🙂

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We have internet once again! Yeah! Boy do I have some updating to do on our website!

Life in Denver is good. I’m still a little overwhelmed by everything happening all at once, and I’m not organized at home yet – which is driving me a little crazy, but God is awesome and He is still speaking to my heart and keeping me pretty calm.

One year ago today I was at Children’s Mercy Hospital in Kansas City. Laurie was taking Max and Zoe back to MN for a week long visit and they had a car wreck in Missouri. Laurie and Max were released at the local hospital, but Zoe was air-lifted to K.C. with internal injuries. She had two fractured ribs and a laceration in her liver. I had never been that scared in my whole life. My 19 month old was laying in pain in a hospital bed that closely resembled a cage, and we were helpless. God was there and he gave me enough peace to know that she was going to be o.k., and the nursing staff was fantastic. I believe Zoe was healed before we left the hospital 4 days later. The doctor said it would take months for her little body to heal all the way, but she never complained about any pain after we got home, and I had everyone I know praying for her. I’m am thankful that a year later, I have Max, Zoe, and Laurie, healthy and well.

It’s amazing what can happen in a year! Where were you and what were you doing a year ago? I know my faith has grown tremendously in the past twelve months. God has stretched me and allowed my faith to be tested, and though it hasn’t been fun, I have grown. I’m thankful for that too!

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