two little men

Isn't it strange how God can use the most common things... things that may seem so insignificant to others... to speak directly to your heart?

He did that to me on Saturday night as I was scrolling through my Facebook wall on my phone. I came across this check in at Mi Pueblo, where a small group of us had gathered to discuss the Micah 6:8 Project...

Had she tagged us in a different order, I wonder if I would have even noticed. I wonder if I would have stopped. I wonder if I would have cried...

But tagged as we were, my heart was assaulted by the vision of two little boys, both on the water... 

One, my son. My very own profile picture. I love this picture of Zach, such JOY, such ABANDON, such FREEDOM. He was at the lake with friends, a place of recreation and fun and laughs and adventure. 

But not for the little boy in the next picture. Not for the little man captured by Christy Farhar. The lake for him... a place of bondage. Work. Pain. Enslaved in Lake Volta's fishing industry along with 7,000 other children. The joy of the little white boy next to him, surely a distant memory... if he has ever known it. 

And as I thought about this... 

Oh, how I wept. 

I wondered... what would I do, if it were my Zach enslaved on that lake?. What ends would I go to rescue him, to bring him home, to let him know that I love him... to make sure He is safe and secure? How much money would I spend? What sacrifice would I make? My very own son, the one whom I love from the depths of who I am... how far would I go?

But the truth is, friends, the little man in Christy's picture is no less our son. He is no less our flesh and blood. He is no less valuable. No less in need of a hope and a future. No less in the eyes of God. Just because I have not yet put my arms around his little brown body... He is no less mine to care for. 

He is no less yours.

Think about your own children, grandchildren, nieces, nephews... if they were trapped in slavery, forced to work fourteen hour days, fed one inadequate meal, uneducated... how far would you go? What sacrifice would you make?

I challenge you... to let your mind go there. Really rest in that pain for a moment. Because in the Kingdom, he is ours. And if you would go to the ends of the earth to rescue the one you love, should you not be willing to do the same for the one He loves? Should our hearts not break for the things that break His? How far would you go?

Yesterday in church, Seth shared the story of the Grapevine Faith football game against the Gainesville State School in Texas. How the whole town of Grapevine rallied around the boys from Gainesville- the boys brought in on a maximum security bus with twelve armed guards. How the parents of the Grapevine players sat behind the Gainesville boys, cheering them on to hit their very own sons. How the cheerleaders stood in a line and cheered on the Tornadoes, even though the front of their uniforms said "Lions". How they rooted for the Gainesville boys instead of their own kids... because that's what Jesus would have them to do. 

And the whole time he was talking, as the tears made their way down my cheeks, I thought of the picture of two little men on my Facebook wall. One I do not know, and one that I would die for... and the Lord challenged my heart... would you root for this little naked child over your own? Would you cause your own son to sacrifice from abundance, so that this one could have the most basic of necessities... food, clothing, freedom.

photo by Christopher Knopf, September 2012

That is my challenge for you today, friends. Look into these eyes... and see the one you love. Wrap your mind, even if just for a moment, around the kind of life these children in Ghana know. 

And then resolve in your heart to do something to help. Don't just look in his face and then closing your browser window, forget. What does the Lord require of you? But to act justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God. Micah 6:8 He requires us to look into this face... and then to reach down our very own hands to help. He requires it, friends. Acts of justice are not something the Lord takes lightly... and when He called us to be His hands and feet, sometimes it will look just like this.

I realize that not everyone will walk in this dusty African soil, take the broken by the hand and lead them into a new life. But there are ways you can help from right there, where you are... whether you are on your couch or at your kitchen table or sitting at your desk at work or in your car... There are ways that you can reach out a hand to the least of these. To the ones who can never repay you. To the ones whom, if you would bend your knee and look in their eyes you will realize look an awful lot like the ones you love the most. Wherever you are, whether you have much or little, there is something that YOU can do. 

You can partner with us at the Micah 6:8 Project to build a residential and vocational center so that more children can be brought home off the lake. Our partners promise a monthly gift of any amount, and will be the backbone of this project, sustaining it for years to come. Bringing a hope and a future.

Or you can join us in our first annual Prayer 5k. For gifts of $35 or $50, you can join us in our goal of raising $5000 and 5000 prayers for this project... making a way for a mission team to travel to Ghana in November to look at land that has been provided by the very hand of God, land that is ours for the taking if it meets our needs. Land that will allow us to build the orphanage to house kids who deserve the same education, freedom, love, hope that we desire for all of our own children to have.

Are you willing? 

Are you willing to sacrifice from your own child's abundance, so that the children of Ghana may have the most basic of necessities? Is it worth $50 to look into the eyes of this little boy and know you have done something to help? Oh, if that were my Zachary wrapped in brown skin... oh, there is no sacrifice that would be too great... am I willing to open my eyes to the truth that this one I have never met, is no less mine? No less a part of my heart? 

I see it now. I see it in a whole new way. Two pictures of little men on lakes, lakes that are a world apart geographically and emotionally... a casual scroll down my Facebook wall... and my heart is wrecked. I can't stop crying. I can't stop wondering what more can I do? 

If you feel as helpless to help as I do, I would ask you to visit The Micah 6:8 Project to see how you CAN help. Give a financial gift of any amount. Join us in our Prayer 5k (a 5k that involves no walking or running, instead 3.5 days of prayer for this project and the lives it will touch). There are only five days left to register, and we are only a third of the way to our goal of one hundred people to participate... one hundred people. Surely there are one hundred of you whose hearts will break for the things that break His? Surely there are one hundred of you who are willing to sacrifice $35 or $50 to bring freedom to the lives of children... surely...surely there are.

I am willing. I have looked into those dark brown eyes and seen my own children. Are you willing to do the same? Are you willing to love on Jesus the way He really asked us to love on Him, not through arms raised or voices loud... but by loving the very least of these? Pray about it friends... and then do something...

Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress. James 1:27

Father, would you move our hearts? Lord would you break our hearts for what breaks yours? Will you bring each of us an individual revelation of that which you've required of us... what it really looks like to act justly? to love mercy? to walk humbly? Would you open our eyes to the needs of this world and show us, Father, that if we sacrifice for you, that if we give in the way you have asked us to give... that we will not have to worry about a thing. That you are the God who owns the cattle on a thousand hills, and that you have us covered? Move on hearts today! Father I ask that you bring abundant support for the Micah 6:8 Project, that you would continue to confirm your will for this home in Ghana by bringing the project exactly what it needs! Lord I thank you that you are a God who is able... a God who is able to humble my heart and show me where I have failed to break, a God who is able to do this incredible thing in Ghana, a God who is able to use something like a check in at a Mexican restaurant to challenge my heart and change my mindset... I love you so much... Let us do this for YOUR glory!

when normal becomes extraordinary

Last night I stayed up with most of America, much of the world, and all of Twitterdom to watch the Women’s Gymnastic Team take GOLD GOLD GOLD GOLD in the team all-around competition. Were you watching in amazement with the rest of us? Did you cry when the final scores hit the board?

Isn’t  it funny how year after year, we come to find ourselves on first name basis with the entire team?   I still remember routines by Mary Lou, Carly, Nastia, Shawn… and last night’s performances by Gabby, Jordan, Ally (and her parents), Kayla, and McKayla will go on the shelf of my Olympic memories with the others.  [What about THIS vault… seriously!?]

It was truly something to behold. The women… girls really… on the world’s stage.  A lifetime of training, sacrifice, and dreams come down to this moment.  Two minute routines on a spring floor. Fifteen second bursts of power from the vault.  A minute’s worth of gasps as they twirl around the uneven bars.  Three minutes of courage and poise atop that beam.

{to this day I can’t see a beam routine without thinking about THIS sermon illustration by Francis Chan, take a few minutes to watch it. I’ll wait.}

Last night as I questioned choices about hair [I'm a stickler for a proper pony tail or bun, folks], found myself wanting to meet the adorable little female coach, and marveled at one nearly flawless routine after another from the Fab Five… I was struck by one word they kept repeating to one another as each went up to do her part…

“Normal”.

Just do it normal. You don’t have to do anything supernatural or extraordinary or miraculous… because you have trained so hard, spent so much time in the gym, practiced this routine so many times that your normal has become extraordinary.

“Normal”… the word was comforting to the ears of this sixth member of the team (I cried like I was going to take the stand when they won, after all). “You don’t have to pull a trick out of your hat, Gabby… just do what you know how to do…”  Crazy release moves that look impossible to connect… that’s your normal. 

And I wondered…

If that isn’t what or faith walks should be like.

Walks where extraordinary leaps… are our normal. Where trusting God instead of clinging to the beam {did you watch that Francis Chan video? If not, go back and watch, we’ll pause the programming for ya} is our natural. Where we don’t have to pull any rabbits out of our hats because we have spent so much time in the Word, are so prayed up, and have practiced His presence enough that the supernatural becomes our normal and our normal has become extraordinary.

Where stopping to pray with a friend, right then and there is just what we do. Where laying hands on the sick and healing is the norm. Where God says “go” and we go. Or “wait” and we wait. When He asks us to give until it hurts and we actually do it. And then we see Malachi’s word come to pass in ourlives as glory and power pour out into us.

Where extraordinary ministries like Paul’s are birthed. He laid hands on people and they were healed. He was imprisoned and the chains just fell off. People would run home with bits of cloth he had prayed for because there was power and healing in them.

Ministries marked by obedience.  Ministries marked by having met God face to face. Ministries marked by changed lives. Ministries marked by being completely and 100% sold out to the cause of Christ.

You and I can have that too.  We can have lives where the extraordinary becomes our normal.

When we are willing to obey.

When we are willing to sacrifice.

When we are willing to really turn from sin.

When we are willing to be sold out for Him.

When we are willing to be in our Word. Every day.

When we are willing to pray without ceasing.

When we are willing to trust that He is enough. Our Divine spotter. And that even if we try, and fail… He will use that to grow and refine us.

I want that kind of ministry. I want that kind of life. I want signs and wonders and miracles and supernatural and extraordinary to become my normal.

But I am not  going to become an Olympian by sitting on my couch and wanting. And I’ve been doing a lot of that lately. I’ve been doing a lot of settling. And selfish living. And distraction.  It’s time to get this boat back on course.

It’s going to take work and sacrifice and obedience on my part. Like Gabby Douglas, it may mean leaving the comfort of everything I know to go deep into training for a year and a half (not seeing her mother a single time except for at meets…) 

Am I willing to give it all for Him?

Are you?

It may look differently than we expected, as little Jordan Weber discovered when cut from the Women’s All-Around Finals (which seems so, so, unfair…)

Am I willing to wipe the tears of disappointment from my cheeks and go to work for the team, the Body, the Bride… anyway?

Are you?

I want to live a life where “normal” looks a little like double lay out dismounts with a twist. Or aerials as high as my head. Or vaults that defy logic.  Where enormous leaps of faith are normal. Where miracles are normal. Where really TRUSTING Him is normal. Where normal has become extraordinary. 

Where normal is anything BUT normal.

[What about you? If you want to enter a season of training, of praying and seeking, with me... would you drop me a line? We'll figure out a way to set up a group... to hold one another accountable to deeper reliance on Him, bigger leaps, more extraordinary normals.] 

Father, help us to redefine our normal. Help us to have a faith that expects the extraordinary, and that trusts your will for our lives. Father… I confess that I have become distracted. I confess that I have not spent time with you, and Lord I long to change that. Would you help me? Would you send the conviction of your Holy Spirit to right my path? To turn my face toward you? Will you send along fellow athletes, Father, to work toward taking amazing leaps for you? I thank you for who you are, and for the way you can use one little word to refocus my life and my heart. I love you so much, Jesus… it’s in your name I pray… Amen.

now that you have seen...

Few song lyrics have infiltrated my soul in the way that Brooke Fraser's "Albertine" has... the words of the chorus ring in my heart... "Now that I have seen, I am responsible..." 

Click. Listen. Be challenged.

Now that I have seen, I am responsible. Now that I know of the pain of a child, the hurt of a woman, the loneliness of a senior, the cold of the homeless.... Now that I have seen, I am responsible.

As I type this, there is a video that has gone beyond viral... it's become a pandemic. A pandemic of awareness and knowledge, opening the eyes of those blinded by the comfort of the American dream to atrocities occurring a world away.  As of this moment, 52,591,704 of you have clicked, likely on a facebook post, and watched the "Kony 2012" video on YouTube. [If you have not seen it, you can find it here.]

52,591,704 of you have seen. 52,591,704 of you are responsible. 

Children are being forced into slavery... and it is not okay to turn a blind eye. It is not okay to pretend we haven't seen. It is not enough to click "share" beneath a video link and hope that the next person will do something.

Now that you have seen, you are responsible. It's up to you to do something.

As I type, the anguish of these children is welling up with in me. Tears streaming down my cheeks as the faces of the enslaved flash before my eyes. I have seen them. I have seen the pictures of enslaved children, the vacancy in their eyes. Vacancy where hope once resided.

Kony is a terrible man. A horror. But he is not the only one.  Uganda, Sudan, Rwanda... these are not the only places darkened by the cloud of human trafficking... It is happening everywhere, even here in quiet Indiana [the I70 corridor is a known pipeline for traffickers. believe it].  It's happening on a Lake in Ghana.

I have seen their faces. I am responsible. 52 million of you have seen. You are responsible.

Children as young as 4 are sold into slavery
in Ghana for as little as $20. Their families think
that they will be fed, cared for, and educated.
Instead they are forced to work 14-16 hr
days, abused, and neglected.

I think about a conversation I had with my daughter and some friends last August. Telling them about friends going to Africa to rescue children from slavery... the look of horror on those little girls faces as they said "slavery still exists???". I imagine that same look of horror darkening faces of millions of Americans as they sat in shock watching the Kony 2012 video. Not only does it still exist, there are more people enslaved today than there were when Abraham Lincoln fought to abolish it.

Little girls who saw... and within their souls knew that they had become responsible. They had to do something. They started Kidz 4 Freedom ... and have since raised about $2000 toward the cause of ending slavery in Ghana. If two little girls can do that with duct tape... what more can YOU do? What more can WE do, banded together, hearts toward the cause of ending this horror!? 


It is not good enough to watch the video and be moved. It is not good enough to share the video. You have to do something. As Kidz 4 Freedom would say... Refuse to do nothing. Refuse to be the person who wipes the tears from her cheeks, and then goes on to giggle at a funny picture on Facebook, or update her status about dinner plans later that night. Refuse to be the person who lives in the very lap of luxury and so quickly forgets the desperate look of a child forced to fight as a child soldier, or work as a sex slave, or dive into the murky depths of a man-made lake to free nets beneath a boat. Refuse to be the person who hopes and prays that someone else will do something.

The next line of Brooke Fraser's song says.. "Faith without deeds is dead". Church, we have to do something.

I am so thankful for the makers of the Kony 2012 video... for the way they have used their gifts in filmmaking to raise awareness of these atrocities! But I want you to know that Invisible Children is NOT the only organization helping free children. In fact, some of my best friends have had their hearts turned toward this cause and are actively working toward caring for former slaves from their homes right here in Southern Indiana.

There are an estimated 7,000 children enslaved on Lake Volta
today. It costs less than $100 to buy a child back out of
slavery, but there is no where for the children to go. They
can't go back to families, that may sell them again... schools
are desperately needed so more children can be freed.

These women have walked the shores of Lake Volta... looking out on the children trapped there by poverty and slave masters who beat them with oars if they disobey. My friends have visited the schools that house these children. They have seen with their own eyes the good work being done there by Touch a Life Foundation.  They came back to the States forever changed. A passion in their hearts to do something, to do more. They partnered with Touch a Life Foundation [For the record, we did some research and found that only 13% of Touch a Life's funds are set aside for administrative costs, the rest go to direct programming. This is exceptional in the world of not-for-profits!], starting a "Find Your Mark" chapter which raises funds to support children who have been freed from slavery.

William and the woman he calls "Mom"... my friend Christy

Yet my friends were not satisfied with supporting a few children. Looking out on the Lake, they know the need. They have heard the desperation of child workers there who say "There are so many more children... but no where to take them". Children that must be left out on the lake, because there is no place to care for them. To teach them. To house them.

And so, friends... it's up to us. Now that we have seen, we are responsible.

We will be joining my friends Christy & Stephanie at Matthew 25 Ministries in building a vocational center in Ghana that will house and educate former child slaves. Children who right now are working up to 16 hours a day, fed one meal, denied an education. In this moment, they sit on a lonely lake, wondering if they have been forgotten by the world.


Don't be the one that forgets.


Since she returned from Ghana in October, Christy has worked tirelessly to get partners to join with her to support William, a Touch a Life Kid she met while in Ghana. A few have come along with her (this is where Kidz 4 Freedom money goes), but how many more Williams could be helped if each of you reading this now would commit to sending Matthew 25 Ministries $10 a month? I know how many of you read... I know how many of you are responsible... and I know the faces of the children that can walk in FREEDOM if you would commit even at this level!

But, what if you committed to $100 a month? A little more than $3 a day. A Starbucks sacrifice... that would result in a children being offered a hope and a future. What if you had a fundraiser, and offered a one time gift of $1000... or more. What if you share this challenge with your Facebook friends? Include them in the call to save the lost and free the captives!? Think about the mark that we can leave on the face of eternity. Children lost... now found.

It costs $1800 a year to fully support a former child slave in Ghana. That's school, clothes, food, therapy, training. $1800. The average American family spends about that much on Christmas. [Stop. Think about that.]

Now that you have seen, you are responsible. Faith without deeds is dead.

How many of your friends would it take, committing to a monthly giving program, to raise $1800 a year to support a child in a far off country? Ten friends, willing to give $15 a month... would support a child, a real child, for a year. Will you step up to the challenge?

What will you do?


There are countless organizations out there doing this same kind of work. Invisible Children, the force behind the Kony 2012 video, receives millions of dollars in donations a year. Their mission is three fold, movie making, movement, and mission- which means that 32% of the funds given to them go to direct programming... goes to freeing children. This is not a criticism of this organization at all. I am so thankful for the powerful work their movie making (which is supported by another third of the funds donated) has done to raise awareness. The final third of donations goes to cover overhead costs including salaries, advertisement, websites, accountants, etc which are necessary to sustain the movement. If you are led to give to Invisible Children, do it. If you click "see more" beneath the YouTube video, there is a direct link for donations.

But if you are led to give to people who saw with their own eyes, and felt the seed of responsibility growing within them... look into Matthew 25 Ministries (website coming soon). It is a young organization, with God-sized dreams. And we need your help. You can earmark funds to go to  Find Your Mark, which is sent to Touch a Life to support William, and if enough funds are garnered, other children.   Or if you are interested in building a place so that even more children can be brought home from the Lake, earmark your funds for the Micah 6:8 project. This is an enormous undertaking, and your help is desperately needed. If you are interested in acts of social justice here within the States, Matthew 25 also does regular outreaches in local prisons, homeless shelters, etc and your funds can go to support these causes as well. They are also prayerfully considering how to impact human trafficking that happens outside our own front doors, with a project coming soon to address this need as well. This is an inter-denominational organization, seeking to unite the Body of Christ and meet the needs of His children, locally, nationally, and world-wide.

There are a lot of child sponsorship organizations.  Many of them are extraordinary in the care they provide for children and communities. But my friend got to talk to William last night. She spoke with him, heard his voice! I know that the money that Tali and Grace raise with their duct tape projects is going to a real child, walking in real freedom. I know that he is being cared for physically and emotionally. And that is so important to me.

A few days ago I blogged about Mary Magdalene, how she found freedom in Christ, and out of that abundance of freedom came an abundance of love and devotion. Friends, do not take the freedom you walk in for granted... use it to bring freedom for others. Don't let your love of Christ be one of words, but one of action. One of being His hands and feet. One of sacrifice. One of going wherever He leads. Scripture reminds us that of whom much is given, much is required. We have been given much. So much more than we could ever possibly need. We have new iPads while others have no food. Extra bedrooms while others have no home. The finest of clothes while others sit in a boat in underwear. We have been given much, friends, do not ignore the fact that  much is required. Now that you have seen, you are responsible. Faith without deeds is dead.

Won't you join Matthew 25 Ministries? Won't you help them in their dream of building a vocational center in Ghana to house other Williams. To make a place for kids who are trapped on a lonely Lake? Won't you get with your Bible Study group, and covenant together to raise $1800 a year to support one of William's friends? Won't you donate toward their mission trip to Appalachia in June?  Won't you make blankets for them to take to the homeless next winter? Won't you share this challenge with your friends?

Won't you do something?


Find out how you can help by emailing Christy and Stephanie at matthewtwentyfiveministries@gmail.com.

If I can stop one heart from breaking,

I shall not live in vain;

If I can ease one life the aching,

Or cool one pain,

Or help one fainting robin

Unto his nest again,

I shall not live in vain.

-Emily Dickenson

offering

"Oh that you would shut the temple doors so that you would not light useless fires on my altar! I am not pleased with you" says the LORD Almighty. [Malachi 1:10]

How these words pierced my heart the first time I read them. Throughout the Old Testament we read the story of a loving Father who has called, provided for, delivered, protected, disciplined, encouraged, and loved a people. A nation. When they cried for food in the desert, He sent manna. When they cried for meat, He sent meat. When they cried for a king, He provided a king. When they cried for deliverance, He delivered. When they cried for His presence, He filled the temple. When they cried for mercy, He was merciful.

And yet, at the close of these thirty nine sacred texts it has come to this.

A Father saying "I would rather you not visit me at all, than bring the detestable sacrifices you are bringing". Does it pierce your heart?

"When you bring injured, crippled, or diseased animals and offer them as sacrifices, should I accept them from your hands?" says the LORD. "Cursed is the cheat who has an acceptable male in his flock and vows to give it, but then sacrifices a blemished animal to the Lord." [Malachi 1:13-14a]

A people reduced to offering their second (or third, or fourth...) best to a Father who had always loved them well. And after centuries of disobedience and idolatry, He was finally fed up.

"Oh that you would shut the temple doors so that you would not light useless fires on my altar!" There it is, the exclamation point that draws my attention. They are rare in Scripture and so demand a closer look. I hear such pain in these words. Heartbreak. It is a Father saying to His son "if you can't treat me with any more respect than this... just go!"

And in case we did not yet understand, our Father spells it out... "I am not pleased with you".

I remember days with two year old Zachary, always full of energy and curiosity, figuring out his world and often times finding himself in trouble. Except in his exuberance and childlike ignorance... he never seemed to realize that he was being disciplined until I sat him in a chair, dropped to my knees, looked him right in the eye and said sternly "you are in TROUBLE". He literally didn't know until he was told. Then his little face would crumble, tears welling in his eyes...

That is what this passage of scripture makes me feel like. Because I read it, and I look into my life... and I see so many areas that I offer God my second, or third, or fourth best... Times I spend watching trash on television that I could be meditating on His word. Times I spend saying things that should not be said, when I could be using my words to edify and encourage others. Times I put my desire for that pretty new thing over His call to live generously. Times I have stopped short of saying the things He has put in my heart to say.

And then, a mere 1000 or so words later, God falls silent. After a millennium of near constant contact with the Father through His prophets, His words cease falling to earth. Four hundred long years of... silence.

"I am not pleased with you"...

Had these been the last words heard from Heaven, where would our hope be?

But His plan was not to leave us in our sin. He looked upon our detestable sacrifices, our second and third and fourth best... and answered with His own Son. Like any fine Father, He led by example, offering His very best. Himself. God-Man. A perfect, unblemished sacrifice. Once for All. What we were unable to do, He accomplished for us.

I think of those moments when my children were born. The time between birth and hearing their first feeble cries... the air heavy in the room with the wait. Unable to see what the doctors and nurses were doing, these cries were the reassurance that all was okay. The wait over, new life begun.

To think... of the babe Jesus... his first cries echoing from the stone walls of a crude stable... after four hundred years of the wait.

The reassurance that all was okay.

New life begun.

Not just for this extraordinary child. But for all. This baby, born to die. It's hard to grasp. Impossible to get our minds around... Baby with fists pumping in the air that would one day carry the nails. For you. For me.

How all of creation must have craned to hear those cries. How all of heaven must have leaned in to see this moment of Light entering the darkness. A collective sigh of comfort and hope and knowledge that all was okay.

Jesus, showing us the way.

This is what sacrifice looks like. This is an offering pleasing to God. The One who gave Himself. The One who led by example. Bearing the weight of our sin and our shame, fulfilling the law... no longer are rams and sheep carried into the temple. He paid the price. He was wrapped in swaddling clothes, so that we may someday wear robes of righteousness.

He came as a babe, offering of Self, so that we may know this overwhelming love of the Father. So that we may be able to offer of self. Offer our heart. Offer our will. Offer our minds. All to the One who is worthy. All to the One who made a way for us to approach the throne of grace without bloodstained hands.

When we were unable to reconcile ourselves to God. He reconciled Himself to us.

Don't lose your wonder this Christmas season. We celebrate so much more than the birth of a baby... we celebrate the birth of a Savior. A baby, born to die. A baby who came so that we would know the way. That we would know the path of humility. Servanthood. Love. Boldness. Hope. Relationship. Sacrifice.

Don't lose your wonder at what this babe came to accomplish. What He DID accomplish. Piercing the silence with the cries of an infant, cries that brought hope and life and light.

I think of Father God looking me directly in the eye. The intensity of His gaze... but the words... the words have changed.  No longer those words that pierce my heart with condemnation...

a different set of heart-piercing words... "well done, good and faithful servant..." Ah, to hear those words some day!

All because of a baby, crying out from a manger. Because of His sacrifice. His example. His Spirit indwelling and guiding. Because He has shown us the way to the Father... this babe. This babe the way.  Because of this baby, we may hear these beautiful words from the Father who only knows how to love well.

Don't lose your wonder this Christmas Season! Four hundred years of silence shattered by the cries of a newborn. 


What a difference a baby makes....!

How to wrap Christmas JOY

The sky still black with night, my brother makes his way to my bedroom. Though his voice is hushed, it is electric with excitement "Becky! It's Christmas!" He did not have to wake me, as I had already taken my own silent trek to the living room to see for myself.

There are few things that compare to that time of excitement. Laying in bed with my little brother, watching the clock and waiting for it to be less night and more morning so we could finally wake up a mom who we now know was laying in her own bed, listening to our excited giggles and speculation the whole time. 

Now that I am grown, little has changed. There have been many Christmases where Jim and I have laid in bed, excitedly waiting for the moment that Tali and Zach would make their way into the living room... Listening as they peek into stockings, evaluate the gifts and who they were for, eventually making their way to our bedroom. Their hushed voices ringing with a joy that seems unique to Christmas morning.

It's a simple thing, yet that time-before-the-chaos of wrapping paper and bows and gifts are my favorite moments.

And so, as I talked to my friend (and cousin, and coworker- yes, she's all three) the other day about a project she has taken on at work... my heart broke.

Last year, Generations & 211 coordinated with other local agencies such as the United Way, the Salvation Army, local schools, businesses, and charitable organizations to create a "Christmas Clearinghouse". The goal was to be able to serve more families by eliminating duplication of services during this holiday season. So over the last month, Angela has been taking in calls from families who, for one reason or another, have no means to provide Christmas for their children this year. She has also spoken to many, many businesses and agencies who have offered to sponsor hundreds of children.

But the need is great. 

And at this moment, the need is outpacing the sponsorship.

As of a week ago, there were about 200 children that will not have Christmas, if we don't act. These are not kids in some far off land... these are kids that you pass on the street as they play outside in their yards. These   are kids that go to school with your own children. They play together at recess. Ride together on the bus. 

According to the American Consumer Credit Counsel, the average American will spend $935 on Christmas this year, the vast majority of that on gifts to family and friends. And there are children in our own communities that will wake up to nothing. It's hard to imagine, friends, but it is true. 

Our priority has become lavishing more and more and more on those who already have much, while we pretend that there aren't children going without. Kids who need to know that they are loved, and valued, and appreciated. Kids who need to know that they are not forgotten.

Tonight I am challenging you to be the one who remembers. To mobilize a group of friends and sponsor one or two or ten children. Talk to your Sunday School class, Bible Study group, spouse, best friend, coworkers... and do something.  As you buy and wrap gifts for these little ones, you will be doing more than filling their house with toys and clothes... you will be filling it with the hushed excitement and electricity of a Christmas morning. And that, friends, is how you can buy, wrap, and give Christmas joy this season.

You will give parents in desperate circumstances peace. And the knowledge that someone cares. 

Helping is easy... contact Angela Dobbs at 888-4279 or email her at adobbs@vinu.edu. We have had several calls this last week, children taken off the waiting list... but we have also had more applications submitted. The need is great, and you can help.

This isn't about playing Santa to a group of children, it's about being Jesus to them.

22: getting real

I speak words that I have never heard out loud before. I share a part of my story that I have kept in the secret place for a very, very long time. I look into eyes of compassion. Eyes that say 'yes, it is hard... but don't stop short...'

I reflect. The Lord has brought me so far. From darkness to light. Sin to righteousness. Death to life. 

I am thankful for the journey. I am so thankful to be in a place that I can take off the veil that has covered my shame and stand exposed before the Lord... before His people. I don't do so on my own strength. I could not. But His strength pours over me, into me, through me. A voice calls out "I love you"... she sits the second pew yet the voice sings to my heart from the throne room... "I love you, Becky... I love you" 

I continue. Words tumbling out. Truth exposed. Veil gone. 

And I find freedom. Others find freedom. Women share their heart with me, and in doing so remove the veil over their shame. Soft voices saying, I have been there too. Courageous hearts saying, I refuse to live in darkness anymore.

And freedom reigns.

The words the Enemy has spoken... broken and revealed as lies. Bondage gone. 

Freedom REIGNS.

There are places I wish I had not walked. Yet I rejoice in a God who can work all things to the good. I rejoice in a God that will cause me to get real because He loves me enough that He will not be satisfied with anything less than complete freedom. For me. For others.

Freedom reigns in His heart. And today, it also reigns in mine. 

friday flashback

Tonight as I was picking up the living room I decided to actually sort through one of my infamous piles o' stuff rather than just move it to a secondary location (which is my preferred method for managing my many piles o' stuff). There were magazines, a few pieces of the kids school work, a card Jim gave me for Valentines day a year or two ago... just a bunch of hodge podge things that haven't found a home yet. As I discarded, sorted, and put away, I came across a folded envelope that I initially put in the discard file, til it landed with a "thud" and I realized it was not empty. Opening it, I found an eclectic group of pictures, some of Zach as a baby, one of me on my first birthday, Easter pics of the kids from two different years, a picture of me and my mom (I may or may not be organizationally challenged....) and among them this picture...

That's five year old me holding my six week old baby brother, Christopher. Sweet Chris was born on October 12, 1981 and we soon learned that he had Werdnig-Hoffman Disease. Even as a child, I remember that term carrying great weight. I recall my mom explaining to others that it was a kind of Muscular Dystrophy (it is also known as Spinal Muscular Atrophy, Type I). I recall her explaining to us that Baby Chris would not be with us for long, but that we were going to love him with everything we had for every moment of his life. 

I am not sure how a child is supposed to process this kind of information, but it seems that for me it just became a natural part of our life. Our dining room table was moved to make room for his special crib and all of the machines he had to be hooked up to. Our daily routine included home health aides and nurses coming in to help with his care. At times, mom had to be gone with Chris to the hospital, but most of the time he got to be home with us. I am not sure how my parents managed to balance the strain of a terminally ill child with the needs of two other children... but they did. They allowed our life to feel "normal" even in the midst of such chaos. We sat out on the porch swing. We colored pictures. We hunted Easter Eggs. And we loved each other. 

And then, when he was only eleven months old, mom had the terrible job of coming home and telling us that Baby Chris had passed away. I wanted to comfort my mom, and so I said "it's okay Mommy, he is with Jesus now!" I don't want you to misunderstand... I missed my little brother. I still do. I wonder what a 20 year old Christopher Talley would have looked like. I wonder what it would have been like to grow up with yet another little brother. But, in that moment, all I could think was he is with Jesus. He wins! No more pain, no more needles, no more feeding tubes, no more trache care... he is with Jesus. 

I think about my own life. I think about how Paul struggled with whether it was better to be here, doing God's work, or in eternity standing in awe of the One who is our all in all. No matter what... we win. Chris was such a special person, that he was able to accomplish his purpose in just eleven months (it takes most of us a little longer than that to figure it out). Today as I think about him... I'm sure he's hanging out with my Daddy, worshiping Jesus with all that they have in them. And some day I will get to stand along side them... but until then, I will just keep putting one foot in front of the other on this crazy path God is calling me down. 

Baby Chris was only here a short while, but he had a big, big impact on a lot of lives. Because of him, my family began going to church, and my daddy came to know Jesus. Because of him, I have always held my own kids a little tighter and tried to raise them in the light of eternity- knowing that regardless of what this life may bring, we who are in Christ Jesus can trust in our happily-ever-after. 

If God could use a baby to effect so much change in eleven short months... what can He do with you, if only you would say "yes"? Trust Him. Trust the crazy path He is calling you down...if you are here, He has  something He has purposed for you to do since before the foundation of this world was laid (mind-boggling, isn't it?!) Follow Him! You can't go wrong! If you trust Jesus... you win.

For me to, to live is Christ and to die is gain. If I am to go on living in the body, this will mean fruitful labor for me. Yet what shall I choose? I do not know! I am torn between the two: I desire to depart and be with Christ, which is better by far; but it is more necessary for you that I remain in the body. Convinced of this, I know that I will remain, and I will continue with all of you for your progress and joy in the faith... Philippians 1:21-25