We have a new runner!

We are so excited to WELCOME JENNIFER TO THE "I RUN FOR HOPE" RUNNING TEAM!!!!

"I am running for Hope house to help raise funds to get orphans the care they so desperately need sooner than later. This is a tangible way for me to make a commitment to Hope House and the orphans of the Dominican. I am not naturally a runner so I feel this is a way to for me to not only accomplish a 5k, but as I am training it is a way for me to remember the Braisteds and Hope house during my runs."

Jennifer will be running Capturing Hopes 5K in Winston Salem, NC, on May 8th, 2016.

If you are interested in joining our team, please e-mail Amanda at amanda@hopehouseintl.org or click on the "i Run for Hope" tab above for more information.

Bathroom Routine Checklist

On Saturdays, I like to skip the "home maintenance" stuff I do Monday-Friday and opt for creativity or completing projects that I don't have time to do during the week.

My children, God love them, become monsters at bedtime.  They also lose their ability to do anything on their own.

Enter the Bathroom Routine Checklist.

Each kid needs to check off their to-dos before they leave the bathroom.  I don't need to remind them.  They just read (or look at the images) and check it off as they complete it.  No parental intervention.  Just kids learning to be independent.  It's a win-win for everyone.

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.

Anxious, Fearful and Overwhelmed

Awhile back someone said that our family is "the perfect family."  Although they said this flippantly, not in a condemning way or anything, it really, really bothered me.  We have beautiful children whom we love dearly, we love each other dearly, and we have a feeling of purpose and fulfillment because we are living out God's calling on our lives.  All that to say, it makes us content and happy, but it doesn't make us perfect.  We struggle with the same things every other family, who is not living on the mission field, struggles with.  Sometimes Mike and I yell at the kids.  Sometimes we say unkind things to each other.  Sometimes, well a lot of times, our kids are disobedient.  We've struggled with limiting screen time, the proper way to discipline, ways to make our marriage a priority and finances.  If you struggle with it, we struggle with it, too.

About seven years ago, I struggled deeply with depression and anxiety.  It got so bad that I, literally, had a panic attack whenever anyone from our family had to leave the house.  And considering Landon went to school everyday and Mike went to work everyday and Emi went to the babysitter's everyday - you get my drift.  I was absolutely certain that one of us was going to die.  I hardly left our house.  I could barely complete menial tasks.  I was afraid of everything.  And I hid it from everybody.  I still had a job I had to get done, kids to raise, a marriage to uphold - but inside, every day was a struggle to keep from lying in bed all day, drowning in fear.

Somehow, I had it in my mind for awhile that once you became a Christian, you had this "hedge of protection" around you.  A free "get out of pain" card, a guarantee everything would always be alright.

The Christmas before, I was at my sister's house and was looking at all of the pictures on her fridge.  A Christmas card caught my eye that literally became the first domino in a chain reaction that caused me to question everything I had ever thought about how protected I actually was.  This card was from a missionary family my sister's church supported that had two happy parents and two happy kids on it.  In a picture off to the side, resting on a cloud, was a picture of another happy child.  I thought to myself, "That's strange," and asked Amy why the other boy was on a cloud.  "He died on the mission field.  He contracted some bacterial infection and was gone in 24 hours."  I kid you not, the entire room got very small, I started to breathe very shallowly and I excused myself the bathroom.  My family was on the mission field.  I have children on the mission field.  Missionaries aren't covered under "the hedge of protection?" I thought.  Anxiety was born.

When I really got a hold of what was going on, I sought wise counsel.  I began seeing a mentor once a week for about eight months.  It helped me to gain perspective, walk through my anxiety and also learn about the real heart of God.  I was eventually able to leave my house, and let my loved ones leave the house, without thinking about the worst case scenario.  They would leave.  They would come back.  Bye, bye anxiety.

Or so I thought.

A week ago, Mike nonchalantly tells me that he and Landon were going to Santo Domingo with the soccer teams to play some games there.  They would be taking a bus and would be gone most of the day.  Suddenly, visions of all the movies I have ever seen where foreigners take a rickety bus, over a winding road that has ravines on either side of it, went all crazy in my head.  I had a panic attack on the spot and for the three days leading up to the trip.  To top it off, the night before the trip, Landon starts having a panic attack about leaving, as well.  He was begging with everything in him to stay home and not go.  I was sure this was a "sign from God" that something bad was going to happen.  When Landon went to his room, I begged Mike not to go.

The morning of the trip, I was a mess but was keeping strong so Landon didn't freak out.  Mike said he cried in the car the whole way to school.  I decided to get my devos out.  I knew I couldn't go back to sleep so I might as well try and keep my mind busy on something else.

I've gotten to the point in my spiritual walk to know when things like this come up - it is a spiritual attack.  A way for The Enemy to paralyze me, to steal away my joy.  A lot of people would like to believe that it's just part of being human, it's normal, it's expected.  If you are one of these people, let me just stop you right there:  There is a REAL Enemy.  He knows you.  He knows your weakness.  He knows everything about you.  And he uses this information for your destruction.  Panic attacks aren't normal.  It's not part of being human.  It's not expected.

So before I read anything in my Bible or devotional, I decided to just write in my journal about how I was feeling.  And what I wrote completely took me by surprise:

"Right now I'm thinking, 'Is this God trying to warn us?' or 'Is Satan trying to rob Landon of a great experience?'  I know the determining factor in all of this is fear.  I feel afraid, anxious, nervous, overwhelmed...but here's the thing: none of these emotions are things God "puts on" His beloved.  Those are weapons of The Enemy.  Satan is constantly trying to steal the joy from God's people.  Paralyzing people with fear is his most powerful weapon.  So today I will CHOOSE joy, not fear."

My struggle with anxiety has always been deciphering between if God was trying to speak to me or if Satan was trying to deceive me.  And for the first time I saw the Word of God come to life and comfort me in a real way.  We all know that the Bible tells us "Do Not Be Afraid" and "Don't be anxious." So if that's what God's Word says than that's how we know when HE is speaking rather than the Enemy deceiving.

It changed everything for me.

Whenever I had an anxious feeling that day, I would recite to myself as a reminder,

"So do not fear, for I am with you;
    do not be dismayed, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you and help you;    I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." -Isaiah 41:10

Or,

"Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God." -Philippians 4:6

Almost everyone knows those verses.  Heck, I skip over them whenever people put them in their blogs because I know them by heart.  But this time was different -- I didn't just know them by heart, I knew them in my heart.  Those words helped me decipher that Satan was speaking to me, not God.  The loudest voice was fear-ridden, anxiety-stricken and overwhelming.  

It was the still, quiet voice echoed in Scripture that helped me focus on my God, not my perceived problem.

Baby Luis

 

I've avoided writing this post for a week and a half.  Partly because I was really hoping the circumstances would suddenly change.  And partly because I'm still just kind of in disbelief.

I showed up a week ago Sunday afternoon to the hospital to care for this sweet little bundle.  Life events with our family kept me from visiting him on Friday like I had planned, Saturday was Emi's birthday so the earliest I could go was that Sunday. 

I walked into his room so ready to squeeze his little body and give him kisses - only to find his crib empty.  To say I was shocked is a vast understatement.  At first I looked at his little cabinet to see if his stuff was still there and maybe the nurses had taken him to run tests or to bathe him.  But everything was gone.  Some of the other moms saw my discombobulated demeanor and began to tell me the story.

Conani had found his birth mother after three weeks of searching for her.  The other mothers said she walked in the room, visibly pregnant with yet another baby, like a toddler throwing a fit because they had to do something they didn't want to do.  She started bagging up his belongings (which weren't even his, they were all donated items) and complaining that Conani "made" her come get him because she has a responsibility to uphold.  She slung him over her shoulder, grabbed the plastic bag and marched out of the room.  Not a word to anyone.  The moms said she didn't even say a single "thank you" to any of them who have helped care for him over the past month after she abandoned him there.

As you could imagine, I was angry.  I was sad.  I was disappointed.  I walked out to my van and cried.  That sweet baby boy, so many confusing things have happened to him in his 10 weeks of life.  And now, I couldn't even ensure his safety from here on out.  I yelled at God.  I mean, goodness, how could THIS be in your plans?

My anger has subsided but I think of him every morning.  There's an empty corner in our room where we prepared a place for his crib to go.  And it dawns on me heavily that this is the life we have committed to.  The beautiful stories of redemption that are yet to come -- but also the stories and heartaches that make absolutely no sense to my human heart.

Last night, I read in Jesus Calling:

"During times of severe testing, even the best theology can fail you if it isn't accompanied by experiential knowledge of Me (God)."

I am grateful that God has taken us on this journey that has often been lonely, trying, heart-breaking, and difficult.  It has solidified our beliefs in a just God but more than that He has allowed these tough situations to give us first-hand knowledge of his faithfulness.

Luis and Gilverson and Regina and Sara -- they may be our first encounters of an unjust world but they most certainly won't be the last.  We have seen the mighty works of our Father.  We know His heart for children.  Therefore we trust in His faithfulness even when we don't understand the outcome.

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.

Surrender

Photo Credit: Hillsong Church Facebook Page

I sat, arms crossed, body language closed.  I wasn't waiting in expectation.  I wasn't tuned in.  I was going through the motions.  Outwardly, playing it cool - inwardly completely destroyed by weariness.

It's amazing how you can sit in a room, surrounded by 10,000 other people, and feel like you are the only one.  The only one that struggles.  The only one that questions.  The only one that doubts.  I am living a life that more than half this world would only dream of living - yet, I sit, wondering if God still sees me.

That morning, I went through the motions of worship, maybe one measly hand up, maybe my eyes closed once or twice - searching for connection.  Wondering if He would meet me in my brokenness.  When the last note played I knew I was the one standing between He and I, between the unified Spirit I was longing for.  He whispered, "Surrender," I screamed, "No."  "My child, my daughter - Surrender."  I, with my sarcastic tone and my defiant spirit unfurled, "I will surrender only if he, the speaker, Brian Houston, lays his hands on me and anoints me himself."  You see, it wasn't a challenge.  It wasn't even a test.  It was a statement made in complete and utter brokenness and unbelief.  I threw my words out with no anticipation that it may even happen.  Because, really, that would mean that God - the Creator of the Universe - actually heard me.  I was beyond believing that.

Within minutes, as he stood on stage and began to speak of God's goodness...he stopped.  His head bowed, his eyes closed, his voice spoke.  "Are there people here tonight, people in ministry, who are weary..."  My head dropped, my eyes closed, my tears fell.  "Are you tired, worn down, jaded..."  The flood gates opened.  My shoulders shook, my eyes formed rivers, my body felt weak.  "If you are weary, and worn down and jaded would you make your way up to the stage..."  I felt gentle hands from friends push me forward, no idea how I would even be able to take steps.

I stood in front of 10,000 people, with many other weary, worn out and jaded travelers beside me, completely broken.  The depths of my brokenness poured out in physical form.  I could hardly stand.  I certainly couldn't stop sobbing.  I fought hard to control it all, not really wanting anyone to see the real, broken me standing there.  But my spirit made way to surrender.  And in that moment, I felt the biggest, most gentle, loving hands placed on my head.  It startled me at first, wondering if it was God himself in human form touching me but instead, it was he.  Brian.  Brian Houston.  The one person I mocked God in delivering an anointing I was sure wouldn't come.  But God - the Creator of the Universe - even in all of my defiant rambling and unbelieving words - pierced the Heavenly atmosphere to lay hands on a broken girl needing to know that her Father sees her still.  That even in my weariness, my worn out-ness, my jadedness - He sees me still.  "You were not meant to carry this burden, child...it is mine to bear." "But you called me to this place, how could you have picked me?  I am so, so broken."  "That is why I have called you, my daughter.  I work best through broken things."

In a world filled with billions of people, you can still feel alone.  Unseen.  That is the Enemy's plan, you see.  Isolate.  Separate.  Deceive.  Destroy.  How many of us walk this road anticipating trials but never anticipate loneliness or weariness?  We begin believing his lies, wondering if we are, in fact, walking this alone - forgetting the footsteps walking right beside us.

"In this world you will have trouble..." it says, "...but take heart."  TAKE HEART!  Keep going.  Don't look back.  Don't sit down.  Don't take a break.  TAKE HEART.  Rest in Me.  Wait on Me.  Find peace in Me.

Surrender.
Not my plan, Father, Yours.
Believe in the unbelievable.
See the invisable.
Walk the narrow.
Love the unloveable.

Surrender.  Something happened when I surrendered.  I danced.  My hands have never lifted higher.  My eyes have never cried harder.  My smile has never been bigger.  I wasn't going through the motions.  I saw my God.  He saw me.  I praised Him.  I thanked Him.  I worshipped Him.  I surrendered.

"The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me,
    because the Lord has anointed me
    to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
    to proclaim freedom for the captives
    and release from darkness for the prisoners,
²to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor
    and the day of vengeance of our God,
to comfort all who mourn,
³     and provide for those who grieve in Zion—
to bestow on them a crown of beauty
    instead of ashes,
the oil of joy
    instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
    instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called oaks of righteousness,
    a planting of the Lord
    for the display of his splendor."   -Isaiah 61:1-3

In this world, surrender leads to bondage and imprisonment.
In His world, Surrender leads to freedom.

Are you really Pro-Life?

On Saturday, two young men - ages 18 and 19 - were executed in an area nearby.  Our community was a hive of activity following the shooting.  People came from all around to go look at the bodies.  Police vehicles came and went.  Mike was questioned a couple of times on his account. There weren't people screaming or crying.  Just two kids, laying in a field, being made into a mockery.

Later in the week we found an article in an online newspaper that stated people from the surrounding communities were celebrating the deaths of the boys.  These two "delinquents" were wanted in several murders that occurred during robberies to obtain weapons and motorcycles.  Many had been living in fear of these boys.  They seemingly had no conscience and only thought selfishly about themselves.

When the murders initially occurred, I had a seriously heavy heart for them.  We didn't know the background of the boys and I couldn't help but think of their mothers - what heartache.  When Mike was reading me the article I felt a sense of relief.  A relief that later struck me in a strange way.  Why was I feeling relief that two teenagers were executed?

I struggled for a time that day - not completely sure why I couldn't get them off of my mind.  I didn't feel fear or danger.  I didn't know them so I didn't feel a deep sense of loss.  Yet, I struggled.

It wasn't until this morning in my devotions that I felt God ask me a question and I knew it was pertaining to my struggle: "Are you really Pro-Life?" 

Let me start by saying, I am NOT going into politics here.  In fact, I do what I can to stay away from some really taboo subjects, but this question struck me so surprisingly that I knew God was really drawing my attention to it.

It is probably not a surprise to many people that I am Pro-Life.  I mean, I am dedicating the rest of my life to fighting for kids who are cast out, lost and abandoned.  I will be waiting expectantly to swoop in and care deeply for babies whose mother's have abandoned them.  In some respects, this work is a no-brainer for me.  I love children.  I think every child is a gift from God (despite the circumstances surrounding their conception or birth).  It doesn't take a lot of effort on my part to feel compassion for these children from the moment I meet them.

But what struck me this week, and about the question God proposed, was how I began to feel about the boys after I had learned of their delinquent activity.  I have felt a similar way when I heard of some child-molesting criminal being killed on death row.  I have caught myself saying in my head, "You got what you deserved."  And just now, reading that, it really, really disgusts me.

These two boys, although I will never condone their behavior, did not deserve death at the hands of someone playing High Judge.  Me saying that their life was only worth the horrible mess they got themselves into is a complete disgrace to the Living Gospel that I base my faith and life on.

"Then Jesus told them this parable: 'Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Doesn’t he leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it?  And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders  and goes home. Then he calls his friends and neighbors together and says, ‘Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep.’  I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent." -Luke 15:3-7 

We claim as Christians that Christ's love is for everyone but we rarely live that way.  Something happens to many of us once we begin our lives as a Christ follower; we forget the former road that led us to the Cross.  I was a sinner (and still am).  I was selfish and rebellious.  I was a very, very lost sheep.  But Christ found me.  He pursued me.  He won me over with His radical love for me.

This isn't a simple road.  We aren't going to wake up one morning and say, "I feel so much compassion for the man who killed my father."  We aren't going to be driving down the road and decide, "I've changed my mind.  I don't believe pedophiles deserve the death penalty."  Believe me, if there is any circumstance where I wrestle with God on who deserves death, it's with people that harm children.  We may have to plead with God to change our hearts to reflect His.  We will have to fight every fiber of our flesh because forgiveness and acceptance and unconditional love do not come easily to us.  But we have to understand that the Gospel is for all, not just those we think deserve it.  Because in reality, not a single one of us deserves the ransom Christ paid for us.

Jonathan Rafael Henríquez Bola and Junior de Jesús Rodríguez Pérez were lost sheep.  Our prisons are full of lost sheep.  Our workplaces are full of lost sheep.  Our families are full of lost sheep.  Sheep, that are of utmost importance to our Heavenly Father.  As Christ-followers, people are watching to see how we respond to all of these situations in our lives.  But you know what circumstances they are watching most?  The hard ones.  The struggles.  The difficult decisions.  The unpopular stances.  If we think Unbelievers are basing their opinion of Jesus on how we behave at birthday parties or at the gym or on work outings, we are sorely misguided.  They won't find Jesus while we are on our high-horses, or our condemning rants or our self-righteous proclamations.  They will find Him when we act like Him.  When we treat His precious children with compassion and love.

So I ask, "Are we really Pro-Life?"  Do we really believe every human life matters?  Because if we check our hearts and our hearts have conditions and rules about who deserves forgiveness and freedom - then we are showing this broken world a cheap version of the Gospel.

Not the Gospel that was paid for by our Savior's blood.