Lean In

Two weeks ago, I woke up in the middle of the night thinking about Arturo.  I was in a panic.  Something wasn't right.  As I lay in the darkness I searched for my Father to give me peace, to bring me understanding as to why I felt the way I did.  In silence, I heard a voice telling me to let him go.  That he would be leaving this Earth soon.  I resisted, I rebelled and told Him no.  I gave all the reasons why he needed to stay.  "My love," He said, "you need to let him come to Me."  I began praying to my little Arturo's spirit.  I don't even know if that's how it works but it's what I did.

"Sweet boy, stop fighting.  Stop struggling.  Stop suffering.  Baby boy it's ok.  Don't be afraid.  Jesus is waiting for you.  He has a place prepared for you."

I stayed up crying for hours.  Not the kind of crying that brings more pain but the kind of crying that brings peace and washes over your fears.  I fell asleep at some point faintly begging my Jesus to let him stay if it was possible.

Two days later I was on my way to the hospital and I felt a pit in my stomach.  I felt nauseous.  I had no idea what I was going to walk into - whether this baby boy I loved would still be with us.  To my surprise he was still there and the doctors said he was doing better.  He didn't have any tubes or wires hooked up to him.  He wasn't uncomfortable or crying.  He was just calm and peaceful.  I fed him a little of his bottle and I walked him over to the hospital window.  It was sunny and there was a warm breeze blowing.  He laid on my chest watching the sway of the trees with the rays of the sun cast on his face.  He fell asleep.

I now know just how good my Father is.  He gave me that day.  He let me see this baby boy pain-free, wire-free, tube-free, peaceful - because that's how he is now.

I have experienced loss before but not like this.  His death would be sad no matter what but the events surrounding his death are not only unjust, but tragic.  I have never felt so helpless in my life.  My mind replays the events every moment I have alone.  How lonely he must have felt.  How confused he must have felt.  How helpless he must have felt.  It's something I don't know I will ever get over - and I hope I never do.

Something important I have learned over the last two years can be summed up in two simple words: lean in.  When it hurts, lean in.  When you are suffering, lean in.  When you don't understand, lean in.  When the pain is unbearable, lean in.  So many times in my life when something has happened that I can't explain and that doesn't make any sense, I just ran from it.  I ran from the sadness and the confusion and the difficulty only to be knocked over by it years later.  I pushed anger and unforgiveness to the back corners of my heart instead of bringing it to the surface and letting myself feel it and be freed of it.

Our Father wrote us love letters in His Scripture preparing us for the trials we will face.  "In this world you will have trouble..." It's inevitable.  We can't avoid pain - it will always find us.  And if we don't prepare ourselves for it and lean into it and let ourselves feel it, one of two things will happen; we will either be knocked over by it when we least expect it or we will harden our hearts to it in order to protect ourselves.  Both scenarios have serious consequences.

For many of us, God has been working tirelessly to give us "hearts of flesh" - a heart like His.  A heart that breaks for this world's injustices.  A heart that longs to be part of His perfect plan for redemption.  That means feeling things the way His heart feels them.  A heart that experiences great joy is also one that knows deep pain.

I've been tempted this week, since losing Arturo, to keep myself busy.  To not talk about him.  To lose myself in distractions.  But God keeps whispering to me, "Lean in..."  Because he is not just God.  He is also a Father who knows deep pain.  A Father who watched His son suffer on a cross for people who didn't even know He was doing it for them.

So instead of busy and instead of avoidance and instead of distractions - I stop in the middle of my bedroom, a worship song blaring, my hands in the air and tears falling.  I talk about him with people who ask how I'm doing.  I scroll through his pictures on my phone.  I imagine him in the arms of Jesus, with a perfectly whole body.

Even when it hurts, I lean in.

(This is the song that will forever remind me of my little Arturo)

Brave, brave, Mamas

Over the course of the last year, I have held seven orphaned babies in my arms.  I have changed their diapers, fed them bottles and held them while they slept.  The first baby I ever cared for was named Regina.  She had the most beautiful eyes with the longest eyelashes I have ever seen on a child.  She was smiley and cuddly with a calm demeanor.  When I picked her up she wrapped her hands around my arm and nestled into my chest.  She was so confused in this place with unfamiliar faces where her Mama was no where to be found.  She closed her eyes and fell asleep almost immediately.  I just held her in that hospital chair and fought with all my strength not to lose it in front of the staff.  I was so angry at her mom.  How on EARTH could you leave your child in a hospital?  What kind of heartless human being would you have to be to abandon a helpless baby?  I cried the entire way home.

Over the course of a few months, I spent hours every week just holding sleeping babies.  They craved touch so badly.  Almost instantaneously, each one would fall asleep shortly after I picked them up.  The hospital staff thought I had some crazy gift - I knew it was just their deep need to feel love again.  During those hours I had absolutely nothing to do except think, pray and try to make sense of this beautiful tragedy in my arms.  What started out as a very condemning heart toward these birth moms, changed over time to one of love and compassion for them.

A few weeks ago, we had kind of had a dramatic morning involving my daughter.  She picked a hot pepper from our garden and touched her face with the oils that were on her hands.  She immediately had an intense reaction and a lot of pain.  After a lot of screaming, terrified looks and a container of yogurt rubbed on her face, she finally calmed and fell peacefully asleep on the couch in our living room.  As angry (and frightened) as I was a few minutes earlier because she had disobeyed and touched the pepper I told her not to touch - I was quickly filled with complete love and adoration of her as she lay there sleeping.  She was mine and I loved her with this intense feeling that is absolutely unexplainable in human terms.  I was suddenly reminded of the babies in the hospital and the birth Moms who left them there.

I could never imagine being so desperate that I would abandon my child in a hospital.  I could never imagine a situation so destitute that I would think my babies could be cared for better by someone else but me.  I could never imagine that my child would be better off without me.  But for hundreds of thousands of Mamas around this world - that is their reality.

So often, people that hear what we are trying to do (Dominicans, Haitians and Americans alike) respond by saying something along the lines of "How selfish is that Mom?"  "How horrible!"  "I can't even imagine!"  But let me tell you something; abandoning your child in a hospital is one of the least selfish things a mother could do.

Have you ever lived in such poverty that you eat pies made out of dirt?  Have you ever watched one of your children die from starvation?  Have you even been tricked into a life of prostitution that is dangerous, not only for you, but for your children too?  Have you ever been addicted to cocaine because that's how your pimp keeps you under his control?  Have you ever been sexually abused as a child to the point that, as an adult, you think you are worthless and can't climb out of a hole of depression?  Chances are, most people reading this have never and will never experience any of these circumstances.  But for a huge percentage of women here in the Dominican and in many countries around the world - that is their reality.

Do I think one day these women up and decided in order to live the life they want they need to kick their kids to the curb?  Not in a million years.  Do I think that some of them have fought and tried and prayed for a way to get out of the life they are living, but can't?  Absolutely.  Do I think that in one of the most unselfish moments of their lives they decide their children deserve better, even if that means giving them away?  Oh my goodness, yes.

In a perfect world we wouldn't need to care for other mothers' children.  But we know this is not a perfect world.  And whether you know it or not, Mamas, we see you.  We love you.  We wish we could have found a way to support and love you and help you take care of your own children but we promise we won't let them be alone.  We will take care of your children.  We won't let you down.  We won't let the toughest choice you have ever had to make, be made in vain.

Brave, brave, Mamas.

You Aren't Worth It

If you follow me on Instagram you know yesterday was a tough day.  And like most tough days, I seek out meaning in the hard things.  God has taught me a lot in the last two years about asking him questions that are hard.  Questions they didn't teach you to ask when you were growing up going to Sunday school.  Questions that most Christians avoid because they are afraid of the answers...or worse yet, no answer.

On my drive home from the hospital yesterday, I kept replaying the scene in my head over and over.  The sound of the hustle and bustle of doctors and nurses and moms going in and out of rooms.  Machines beeping.  The smell of bleach, as the cleaning lady had just finished mopping the floor.  A faint smell of coffee that one of the moms was drinking.  In my head, I was avoiding looking in his crib.  To feel the weight of that pain all over again.  To remember the heaviness in my stomach as I listened to the neurosurgeon talk us through his complications.  There were times during the conversation I tuned him out - I couldn't help but let my mind wander to the worst.  And as I held my little Baby A I asked myself the hard question: "Why am I even here?"

It may surprise you that the question rolled around in my head; believe me, it surprised me too.  But as I looked at this precious baby sleeping in my arms I knew it was a question I have struggled with since I met him two months ago.

You see, I have no obligation to be there with him.  From a ministry standpoint, it doesn't even totally make sense.  Children's Services has already told us we can't take him home.  We aren't registered as a "disabled baby orphanage."  I am also not a nurse.  I have no training in caring for a child born with hydrocephaly.  Plus, it's an hour of driving to only be able to be with him for two hours.  Believe me, I've used these arguments with myself when I struggled to not want to go to the hospital.

But there is always this pull.  A thought in the back of my mind.  If I don't go see him, who will?  If I don't go hold him, who will?  If I don't change his diaper and change his sheets and feed him, who will?  If I don't pray over him, who will?  If I don't show him with my actions and my words that he is worth it, who will?

It changes everything...those two words.  Worth it.  Is it worth it?  Is he worth it?  Is he worth the sacrifice of time?  Is he worth the emotional turmoil I feel when I hold him and when I have to leave him?  Is he worth sleepless nights trying to figure out how to get him home?  Because ultimately, all of these things we face everyday, all of the opposition, all of the tough situations, all of the painful circumstances that involve people we love and people we don't even know, all come down to one thing:  Are they worth it?

I first learned about worthiness from my parents when they found out my Mom was pregnant with my sister, Abbey.  After a simple prenatal test, it was discovered that Abbey would be born with Down Syndrome.  That day the doctor asked my mom when she wanted to schedule the termination of pregnancy.  My mom politely told her that because of her belief in God and her belief that Abbey is not a mistake she would be continuing with her pregnancy.  For the first five years of Abbey's life, my mom practically had to hold her every night, propped up against the wall, so that Abbey could breathe to sleep.  She had many bouts with respiratory illness and we almost lost her an several occasions.  Countless hours in physical therapy, occupational therapy and doctors appointments.  We received ridicule from many people, our friends would call her a retard and kids made fun of her at school.  But for those that took the time, even though sometimes it was hard and often uncomfortable for them to get to know our Abbey, they showed her, and us, that they understood she was worth it.  That even though she was different than them, had to do things differently, saw things differently - it made her even more worth it, not less.

So as I asked myself the hard question sitting in a public hospital holding a sick baby that wasn't even mine, Jesus responded to my question with his own..."Is he worth it?"  Because ultimately, this question that Jesus is asking all of us is about much more than a sick baby in a hospital.  This is just as much about a drug addict, a Muslim, a struggling single mom, a refugee from Syria, a homosexual, a Trump supporter or a Sanders supporter, an autistic boy, a family on welfare, an illegal immigrant, an abortion doctor, a soldier or a missionary in a foreign country.  The thing that connects all of these types of people is that they are worth it.  They are worthy of your friendship.  They are worthy of you knowing their story.  They are worthy of a seat at your dinner table.  They are worthy of the sacrifice of your time to be with them.  They are worthy of a fair chance to be educated.  They are worthy of love, care and affection.  They are worthy to be told they are worthy, that they are worth it.

Somehow, as Believers, we have mixed up Jesus' message.  None of this is about us.  It's not about our schedule or our routine or our career or our ten-year plan.  It's about showing this hurting world that they are worthy to be loved and that they are treasured by a Savior who died for them before they were even born.

It took a sick little baby to show me exactly what Jesus has been trying to show me my entire life.  I am complicated and obsessive compulsive and selfish and irrational and sinful; but I am worth it.  And so is Baby A.  And so are you.

Let's stop telling people whom we may not understand, "You aren't worth it."  And lets start doing the uncomfortable and the seemingly impossible to show them that they are.

Does God Really Give You the Desires of Your Heart?

When I was in high school, and for a year after, I had a boyfriend.  He was a serious boyfriend, in that we talked about our future together which included marriage and kids.  I was convinced he was the one for me.  I was not a Christian at the time but I believed God existed and I did pray on a regular basis.  "God help me to score 15 points in the game," "God let me get an 'A' on my test (even though I didn't study)," "God let me get the solo I tried out for."  And during this particular relationship, I prayed A LOT.  Our relationship was pretty tumultuous and unhealthy for the most part and I was constantly asking God to "fix this" or "help him to love me" or "stop him from cheating on me again."  When I look back on it now, it makes me a little sick to my stomach to know the things I put up with all because I loved him but we all know that, generally speaking, teenagers + love = drama.

I prayed almost every night for God to let us be together forever.  Somehow, in the middle of all the turmoil, I could still imagine this beautiful life, in a beautiful house, with beautiful jobs and beautiful kids.  Love is soooooooooooo blind.  After about our fourth break-up and reunion, I started to realize that this was probably not going to last forever.  When our final break-up happened, I was beyond furious with God.  I told Him I hated Him and would never, ever, talk to Him again.  I decided that God hated me and that I was obviously just going to have to live this life on my own.  Which doesn't generally turn out well.

I hit rock bottom.  I rebelled quite a bit.  I would do things that I knew were destructive just because they were destructive.  God could care less about my desires, so why should I care about His?

Fast forward about fifteen years and I can't believe that was my desire.  I can't know for sure what would have happened if God had given me the desires of my heart back then but I can almost bet it would have ended in infidelity, divorce, depression, children stuck in the middle of a custody battle and deep pain.  Not only that, but I would have robbed myself of the chance to meet my husband.  A man who loves me unconditionally, edifies and encourages me and never makes me feel insecure or unworthy.

If you are like me, you have seen many instances and circumstances in your life that you were sure was the best thing for you, only to have God either not answer your prayers or seemingly slam the door in your face.  And if you're like me, at the time you feel angry, frustrated and confused only to walk a little ways down the road and find a rainbow at the end of the storm.  The clouds lifted, the sun came out and that unanswered prayer became a blessing - not a disaster.

I'm always cautious when people post things on Facebook or preachers preach on the subject of God answering prayer.  Our society has become one that makes God look like a "genie in a bottle," here to give us our every desire.  Step right up.  Tell me your request.  Your wish is my command.  And when things don't go our way, suddenly the Genie you were praying to is nothing more than a heartless, vengeful God.

Too many people turn to these popular passages in the Bible when asking God for a favorable answer to prayer:

"...ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you." -John 15:7

"...so that whatever you ask of the Father in My name He may give you." -John 15:16

You know why these passages make me cringe?  Because they are incomplete.  They are just an afterthought to the main point of the passage.  Unfortunately, they are the only parts that people memorize and ultimately throw in God's face when He doesn't comply.

"If you abide in Me, and My words abide in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you." - John 15:7 

"You did not choose Me but I chose you, and appointed you that you would go and bear fruit, and that your fruit would remain, so that whatever you ask of the Father in My name He may give you." - John 15:16

The key word that struck me this morning was the word abide.  To abide in the terms mentioned by Jesus is to rest or dwell.  To be firm and unmovable.  To wait for.  To endure or sustain.  Believers that abide in Jesus are not shaken or thwarted when a prayer is not answered in the way they expected.  But also, Believers that abide in Jesus have a transformation of their prayers as well.  Their prayers move from a selfish and inward approach to a selfless and outward approach.  When someone really abides in Jesus, and are not just seeking Him for personal gain, their relationship with Him is solidified.  What He wants becomes what we want.  His desires become our desires.  Prayer becomes a way to communicate instead of a way to manipulate.

Does God answer outlandish prayers, make miracles happen and bless the socks off His people?  ABSOLUTELY!  But He does it within the confines of His will and what he knows is best for us, not as a reward withheld for only really good Christians.

God's purpose for prayer was never to ensure that His followers were successful, secure, safe, healthy or comfortable in this life - as hard as that is to hear.  God's divine purpose for prayer is to give us successful (and intimate) relationship with Him, a secure truth to stand on, a safe place to go when life is difficult, a healthy spiritual life that withstands trials of any kind and comfort in knowing that this is not all there is - that eternity awaits.

About seven years ago, I was in a very dark place full of anxiety and fear.  Every day I was worried that someone I loved would die.  I didn't want to leave the house.  I didn't want to be separated from my husband and kids.  I decided I needed to seek help and I started seeing a counselor.  Nine long months into counseling and I was beginning to see the light at the end of a dark tunnel.  And then we got a phone call.  My father-in-law passed away very suddenly.  A man that I loved like my own father.  A man who was everything to our family.  A man who was loved by so many.  It could have been crippling.  I could have fallen apart.  Someone reading this may think, "How cruel is God to let that happen when He knew that was her biggest fear?"  And trust me, for a time, that was how I felt, too.  But after some time of grieving, a rainbow appeared and the sun came out and I realized...God didn't do that to me, he prepared me - through counseling - for what He knew was coming.  I prayed for months, even years, that no one I loved would die.  God knew He couldn't answer that prayer the way I wanted Him to, so instead He allowed me to stand firmly on His truths, to heal from things in my past that were affecting my ability to trust Him and to continually seek wise counsel from someone when I couldn't figure things out on my own.  It was the gentle hands of a loving Father that carried me through one of the darkest times of my life, not the harsh hands of a vengeful God who didn't want to answer my prayers.

When we received salvation, we didn't sign a document that provided a checklist of problems that go away and a resolution to every task or difficulty.  We did, however, have a Savior who paid a serious price so that we could have continual communion with a God who knows all, sees all and desires that His people partner with Him in the restoration of this beautifully complicated world.  Even if its just our own beautifully complicated world that needs the restoration.

Grief in Comparison

I was having a conversation with a friend of mine the other day.  She has been going through a few rough things in the last couple of months and it all seemingly has just finally taken its toll on her.  After the last event, the final straw, she mentioned that she had sat in bed trying to coax herself by saying, "be tough," and "suck it up," and "stop feeling this way."  After she gave me the list of things that have been tipping her over the edge, she says something along the lines of, "I know that people are starving and horrible things are happening all over the world, but today, I just can't take all of this."  I, too, have gone through many of the same things she is going through and felt genuine sympathy for her feelings.  But what if I hadn't?  What if I couldn't sympathize because I had no idea what she was going through?

Almost three years ago, I lost a baby to miscarriage.  Up until that point, I had many friends who had experienced miscarriage.  In fact,  some had experienced many miscarriages.  I foolishly thought to myself on a number of occasions, "the baby was hardly developed, at least the baby didn't die during birth or something when they could actually see it and hold it."  Don't judge me please, it makes cringe to think that I actually had that mindset.

But until I lost my baby, I just couldn't understand completely the agony one goes through and the hope and expectation that is lost.  Which, I guess, was the beginning of a transformation of thought that I have come to adopt as a personal belief.

We often throw expressions around like, "I'm sorry you lost your job but there are starving children in Africa right now!"  Or maybe, "Your Uncle died...well at least it wasn't your Mom or something."  (Yes, I actually had someone say that)  Or how about something a little more difficult to swallow; "I'm so sorry your husband died...but at least he's going to heaven!"  Maybe that last one makes you question my sanity, but hear me out.

The Bible is not riddled with passages telling us NOT to compare our own experiences with others' but it does give us someone to compare to.

³³ When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come along with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in spirit and troubled.  ³⁴ “Where have you laid him?” he asked.   “Come and see, Lord,” they replied.

³⁵ Jesus wept.

In John 11, a friend of Jesus, Lazarus, had just died.  Jesus knew he was going to die.  He also knew that he was going to bring him back to life.  Yet, he cried.  Why?  Why would the Savior, who already knew the outcome, cry over a dead man who was about to be raised back to life? 

I think it was because Jesus allowed himself to grieve with others.  He allowed Himself to be "deeply moved in spirit and troubled" by what others were going through.  Notice that Jesus didn't say, "At least he wasn't your own son," or "thank goodness he's not suffering from illness anymore."  And you know what Jesus also didn't say?  "At least he's going to heaven."  No.  He wept.  He cried for Lazarus because he felt deeply for him but he wept because he ALSO felt deeply for those who were grieving for Lazarus, too.

Jesus knew that if Lazarus was going to die, he was going to Heaven.  Just like most of us know that there are other people who have it worse in the world than we do.  We have to start realizing that it doesn't do anyone any good to remind them that their situation could be worse.  Even if theoretically it could be, it's not how I think Jesus handles people who are grieving.  And I don't think that's how we should either.

Yes, there is sometimes a need for some perspective, but grief is funny in that it isn't logical.  Perspective will eventually come back, but not in the middle of grief.  And guess what?  It's really ok.  It's ok that we grieve.  It's ok that we cry.  It's ok that we question.  It's ok that we lose sight of reality for a little while.  Because one of the things that God does care about is that we have a softened heart, a heart of flesh.

"I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh." -Ezekiel 36:26

When we tell ourselves, or others, "Be tough!" "Suck it up!" "Stop Feeling this way!" or "It could be worse!" we change our hearts of flesh, and others' hearts, little by little back to stone.  Those same hearts that God has worked so hard to make more flesh-like and soft.  Our world is full of hard-hearted people who have "sucked it up" - do we really want to be that way too?

I, for one, want to feel deeply for others.  I don't ever want to encourage someone to get over "something" when I have no idea how God plans to use that "something" to work in them.  I want to meet them in their pain and disappointment and struggle because that's exactly what Jesus did for me.  I may not understand it, or have been through it myself, but I know what it's like to lose someone I love or worry about paying a bill or wonder what the blood test will reveal.  If you've experienced any kind of grief in your life, you already have the capability to grieve deeply with someone who really just needs you to be there for them.  We don't need grief in comparison; with its wise words of perspective and promise of a better tomorrow (even though we know that to be true).  We need to find a place where grief is acceptable, struggle is a reality and disappointment is a place for us to connect and be in communion with one another and Christ.

Thanksgiving

My posts have been heavy lately.  I know.  Some riddled with politics.  Others with opinions.  Others with things God is teaching me.  Deep things.  Although it has not been hard for me to find the joy in life or be grateful, there have just been other pressing matters, things I have felt prompted to say, in the hope's of encouraging, edifying, sharpening, challenging or reminding whoever may read this blog or follow me on social media.

God is taking me to this new place.  I believe there is a reason for this season.  I believe he is preparing me for something.  I believe I am preparing for battle.  But today is Thanksgiving.  And even wars stop for a time when reflection and gratitude is needed.


Today, I am thankful for...

{My Jesus}

I know, cliché right?  Most of you don't know my story, my testimony.  And right now isn't really the place that I will share all of that.  But when the Bible says things like, "...rescued from the muck and mire," it was talking specifically about me.  He rescued me.  I don't really know how it happened.  Or why He pursued me like He did but my entire life changed because of Him.  I am who I am because of his radical love for me.  I do what I do because of His example written in the pages of the New Testament in The Bible.  I am compassionate toward this world because he was compassionate toward me.  He changed me.  He's still changing me.  And if you don't know Him, I would highly recommend you start your investigation.

{My husband}

If there ever were an Earthly example of unconditional love it is wrapped up in the bodily form of Michael Anthony.  I believe with everything in me that God created Him specifically for me.  When he gave Mike the parents he did, He was thinking of me.  When he formed him in his mother's womb, he was thinking of me.    When He was preparing Him to be the man he would become, He was preparing him to be my partner in this life.  There is no one who puts up with my crazy like him.  There is no one who points me to Jesus like him.  There is no better father in this world than him.  He has loved me in sickness and in health, in good times and bad, in times of plenty and of want and I hope that our 12 years together is only the appetizer to another 70.  (Yes, I plan on us living to be over a hundred and Jesus will return before either of us die.)  I love you, Michael-y.

{My first-born}

Landon Joseph introduced me to the one thing in life I aspired to experience: motherhood.  When they handed him to me, it was as if I had never experienced deep love before that moment.  There is no way to describe the things that happen inside a mother when she lay her eyes on her child for the first time.  He has grown to be a sweet, compassionate, tender-hearted young man.  He is constantly concerned for other people's well-being.  He prays for the hurting, the sick, the lonely...all.  the.  time.  He prays for Hope House every night and thanks God he gets to help little kids have a home one day.  He calls them his "brothers and sisters."  God has given this boy a special purpose.  And I am blessed to take a front row seat to his extraordinary life.

{My middle}

Nohemi Ruth is our healing baby.  She came into this world at a time when our family was drowning in grief from losing Mike's father, Joe.  From her very first moment in this world she has had the ability to light up a room.  Her smile is infectious.  Her laugh is contagious.  She is a fighter, and stubborn and hard-headed which is difficult to parent at times, but I know without a doubt, that those same qualities God will use to change the world.  She doesn't give up.  She never settles.  She will argue the color of the sky just to see if she can change your mind.  And amidst all of that, which can be exhausting at times, she has this ability to curl up in your lap, nestle herself in and completely change whatever the mood you are currently feeling.  She has my heart and I can't wait to see the ways God will use that spunky little thing.

{My baby}

Levi Frank may be little but he holds a very big role in this family.  He is absolutely hilarious and lives to make people laugh.  He is the definition of the word mischievous and in the middle of eating dog food, or coloring on the floor, or standing on our office desk, he will turn around, bat his eyelashes, smile and say "Te Amo" (I love you).  He reminds me how quickly this life flies by, how quickly they change, how quickly they grow up.  He has these enchanting blue eyes (that i prayed for for 9 months, by the way) that can say everything you need to hear with just a glance.  He adores his brother and sister and wants to be big just like them.  He loves big...will give you a huge hug and then slap you across the face just to make someone else laugh :)  Oh, his teenage years will be fun.

{My parents}

You may think you have the best parents in the world but you would be wrong.  Frank and Rita are the best there ever was, ever is or ever will be.  They supported me, encouraged me, challenged me, prayed for me and loved me despite all the hell I put them through.  Even when things were difficult, between bills and kids and marriage and jobs, they never, ever stopped making us girls a priority.  And they never, ever stopped pointing us to Jesus.  Their marriage is an example of how, although not perfect, is a beautiful reflection of Christ and the Church.  There are no two people in this world I miss more on this day than them.  Sitting around their table, watching football, holding my Daddy's hand...if you get to be with your parents today, hug them.  There is nothing I would want to do more than hug Frank and Rita right this moment.

{My sisters}

There is no one I took for granted in my life more than my sisters.  It is just one of my biggest regrets.  When I look back and think I could of had four best friends when I was growing up during all the tumultuous middle and high school years, it makes me so incredibly sad.  We were all SOOOO different.  And we lived in very tight quarters.  And we had hormones.  So we fought A LOT.  But I am so thankful that Jesus brings redemption and second chances because I love those four girls more than the air I breathe.  I am happiest when we are all together - our crazy kids running around us.  They are the most beautiful women I have ever known.  The strongest, kindest, most loving women and I am blessed to call them my own.

{My Family}

There's a WHOLE LOT of people missing from this photo but we are all hardly ever together at the same time.  But let me just tell you, the Jensen/Goodwin clan are an incredible bunch.  We have endured some very difficult times over the years and a lot of really amazing ones but this group of people, this family, there is no way to say Thank You sufficiently for how you guys love me and one another.  We all have different careers, different beliefs, different genes - but when we are together - my heart is completely full.

{My friends} 

The only problem I have - that's not really a problem - is that I have too many friends to name in one post.  I.  Am.  Blessed.  From childhood to college to adulthood, God has brought the most amazing people into my life to pour into me during different seasons.  You know who you are.  You know how you have shaped me into the person I am today.  I can only hope I have blessed you the way you have blessed me.

{My In-laws}

You all have made me feel like I grew up in the Basham/Braisted clan.  From the first visit to Grandma and Grandpa B's house, you accepted me as one of your own.  I know so many people can't even stand to be in a room with their spouse's family and I can't relate even one bit.  Debbie, you are like a second mom.  I can't even tell you how much I love you.  Josh and Tim, you are the brothers I have always longed for.  Grandma, Grandpa, Aunts, Uncles, Cousins - Man, you guys are seriously the awesomest!

{My/Our Supporters}

Mike and I have been missionaries for 9 1/2 years.  We are lucky if we get to see our supporters once a year.  And we even have supporters we have never met!  You guys have been the driving force behind this journey God has us on.  We LITERALLY could not being doing this without you.  Financially, spiritually, emotionally - we have survived and thrived because of your love and wise counsel.  The future is about to get completely awesome, buckle up, we are all in for a wild ride and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Happy Thanksgiving, Everyone.  Thank you for letting me be a part of your life.

One Syrian Refugee's Hour of Need

Copyright - Magnus Wennman / Aftonbladet / REX Shutterstock

I was running this morning.  It's generally a brainless activity.  I think about the events of the day just starting.  I think through to make sure I sent the kids off to school with everything they needed.  I send up a few prayers.  But this morning was completely different.

Syria was on my mind.  And not just ON my mind, it took OVER my mind.  There is no question that this topic is a hot one.  It's a difficult one, a complicated one.  What's even harder is the difference of opinion between Christians.  We expect the "lines to be drawn" between Believers and Non-Believers but this is a whole new ballgame.  I don't take sides.  At least not public ones.  I NEVER say my way or the highway.  I am just not wired like that.  But God has been stirring me to have a voice.  Not to tell anyone that they are wrong and I am right, but to maybe help us seek out wisdom on how to respond.

Since the beginning of time The Enemy - not ISIS or Terrorists - The Enemy of God and mankind, has launched a campaign with a very large army to do one thing...kill, devour, destroy.  Do you want to know what his number one weapon is?  Fear.  There is no other weapon in his armory that has as much power.  There is no other tactic that is as effective.  Fear is a game-changer, whether you are a Believer or Not.  The only difference between a Believer and a Non-Believer who is fighting the war against fear is that we, The Church, are called repeatedly to NOT fear.  The Bible mentions the phrase "Fear Not" or "Do not be afraid" more than 300 times.  The only phrase that is used more than that, is "Love" which is used more than 2,000 times.

This road is narrow.  It's crooked, it's scary, it's unmarked.  Does it sound like another road we all know well?

“Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it." -Matthew 7:13-14

Maybe you are hoping I will take a stance.  I will say they should come or they shouldn't.  Sorry to disappoint you.  Church, you may not know this but you are not really fighting over what is right or wrong.  The reason there is so much unrest is because none of us really know what the right answer is.  There is conflict in our hearts between protecting what we hold sacred and showing compassion toward hurting people.  So let me tell you the conclusion I have come to--

Stop debating and prepare to respond.

We can all think we have a say in this, but in reality we do not.  Ultimately, our government is going to do what they think is best.  And as we submit, yes submit, to their authority we need to prepare to respond the way Jesus would if he were confronted with this same issue.

My words and my actions are not governed by Obama.  Or by Ben Carson.  Or by the Constitution of the United States of America.  The only thing that governs my daily decisions BASED on sovereign wisdom is God's Word.  And do you want to know what The Bible says?  It says love God, love your neighbor, love your spouse, love your children, love the unlovable, love the homeless, love the orphan, love the widow, love the sick, love the naked, love the addicted, love the prisoner, love the hurting, love the refugee, LOVE OTHERS -- more than 2,000 times.

If it happens - if the government begins the process of shipping Syrian refugees to our borders, the debate stops.  We can stop ranting on social media.  We can stop unfriending those "liberal Christians."  We can stop filling up our Newsfeeds with articles trumping our co-workers beliefs.  The debate is over.  They are here.  What you do next is what matters.  How you respond is what the world is waiting to witness.

I'm not pretending that this is an easy response to a complicated situation.  But I know one thing that I keep coming back to when how I feel in the moment conflicts with what i know to be true - when I was in the pit, running from all the hurt, running from the war waging inside of me, Jesus loved me.  A radical love.  A life-altering love.  And I will NEVER, EVER withhold that same love He lavished on me, from another person.  Whether they arrived through the womb of a home-grown American or on a rubber boat.

I realize this is messy.  We want there to be a lot of grey area.  There's lots of questions about funding, and taxes and economical effect.  And there's a real, legitimate concern that some of the refugees are coming with plans to hurt our country.  But, honestly, I refuse to turn my cheek from the 99% of INNOCENT people OUT OF FEAR of the 1% of them that have plans that may or may not come to fruition.  And if this 1% really strikes fear in your heart, then you better not go to work tomorrow.   A disgruntled, AMERICAN, ex-employee might come to shoot up your workplace.  And you better not send your kids to school either because a mentally unstable student might come and massacre their classmates.  And actually, you should probably find a new home, too, because when you come down to get your morning cup of coffee an intruder might take you out without hesitation, over your TV and your iPhone.  Do you see what Fear does?  It gives POWER to The Enemy.  It strengthens his cause.  It robs us of life and our purpose during our short stay on Earth.  That is what ISIS wants.  That is what Satan wants.

I would suffice it to say, that across history, the people that go from a loving, nurturing, thriving human being to a destructive, hateful and vengeful one, have one difference between the rest of us -- ONE PERSON who was there for us during our desperate hour of need.  A grandma, a friend, a parent, a coach, a dance instructor, an army sergeant -- one person showed us love, attention and worth and it changed our whole world.

This is one Syrian refugees' hour of need.  The world is watching WHO you will represent and HOW you will respond.