Drawing The Line: A Little Clearer... I'm Often Misunderstood. (i'm working on it)

I know that the last post may have seemed a little out of character for me.... to those that don't know me very well. Those that do know me, totally nailed my character...ehem.  However, even they were a little confused. After I stepped off my soapbox, I realize that I may have been a little too vague out of fear for slandering any names. What tipped me off was when people kept asking me what article I was even talking about.

I'm an avid article/post reader... so..... when I read an article... I just assume that everyone else has too. I'm not sorry for writing the previous post, however, here's some clarification.

A post that irked me ----> HERE

A post that didn't irk me ----> HERE

Now that you are up to speed, my post here will make a little more sense to you... hopefully.

We may all have to agree to disagree on this one, but I couldn't help but share my feelings on this as I watch various leaders of the church turn into modern day Pharisee's. So many boisterous claims as to who gets into heaven if they are this, or do this, or stop doing this.

I'm a firm believer that you need to accept Jesus' hand in order to live in paradise with Him. But that's just it. It's simple. And so many people make it such a complex thing all because of the journey one takes to truly feel redemption. Everyone is walking a different path. Some have the seemingly smallest milestones that turn into the very things that make them stumble. While others have gaping holes, or better yet, those cliff edges like in Indiana Jones where he had to step out into the air, hoping that he was right about the fact that there's a secret hidden bridge. Some feel stuck, while some are vigorously grabbing at each rock to get through the mountains. All are unstoppable, but only a few actually realize it.

Jesus, to me, is just so beautiful. He's that best friend that I know I can say anything to. But at the same time, He's the guy that makes me want to reach for those higher standards, no matter how many times I fall short.... in front of His face. I'm sure His forehead hurts just from my doing.

I'm not saying I've got it nailed. But I do know Love when I see it. I was just very disappointed at the stand certain leaders were taking, held with very strong heavy accusations. I know this happens often, but it was like one of those moments where everyone had a stone in their hands, ready to start throwing as soon as the leader gave the orders. .... and the leaders were pretty much giving the orders. That's what it felt like to me anyway.

Drawing The Line: Smack My Head and Call Me An Ice Cream Truck

I think it took me 3 hours to calm down enough to go to sleep after I read an article written by a pretty "famous" christian in retaliation to World Vision's decision. It had me so furious because these are the types of behaviors that (rightfully) give Christians a bad name (or better yet, it gives Jesus Himself a bad rep). Can the ones that just want to love on people be called Lovetians. Christloves. Nobullhornians. Giveusachancians. You get my point...

It would be against my better principles to drop names of who I'm talking about (who wrote the article) , but if you've already read the article, than you may know who I'm talking about. This one doesn't mind using his bullhorn. And yes, I write bullhorn whilst rolling my eyes. My forehead hurts from smacking my head. You get the picture.

So why my frustration? (Lord help me to say the right words)

Jesus Himself said, (Mark 12:30-31) (NASB)

"and you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.’ The second is this, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these.”

 "Love God and Love others." period. There wasn't any clause in there that said, "love God, love others, but only if you guys agree on doctrinal views that almost have nothing to do with salvation, even if you think it may, let's just be safe and stay away from those people."

I understand that we all have our convictions of following the moral/spiritual laws of the Bible. But I truly am irritated with the words: tolerant and intolerant. I don't think those words are even in the Bible. I keep myself in check with my own personal convictions. I'll answer those that ask me how I feel about a particular subject. But to push my conviction on someone else, condemning them in the same breath and justifying it by calling it "intolerant of sin" or "I'm holding you accountable" just rubs me the wrong way. (unless I have asked a friend to hold me accountable, that's different)

I'm so sick of different doctrines dictating other's lifestyles. Condemnation instead of encouragement to serve in Love. Saying you're not enough because you are committing a particular sin instead of valuing a human being who is still ever so precious to God. Being so sure that they are going to bring down the masses, when ironically, your bullhorn may do just the trick on your end. (ok, that was jabby)

Mexico 2002

The picture above is me 10 years ago, in Mexico serving with a medical missions team. It's not World Vision, but it was the closest thing I could go back to, in my own experience, when I think of what World Vision does on the ground. Serving a community in need.

Allowing us to sponsor children, having as much of a relationship as we desire, helping a community thrive and grow so it can stand on it's own legs. My husband and I have invested in World Vision for years now. There was once a boy we sponsored in the Philippines. After 2 years, we got a letter from WV stating that his community no longer needed the support, that they were able to thrive on their own. What a blessing it was to see this one to the end.

I only share this to bring us back to the bigger picture. The bigger picture here is helping the poor. Giving these children a chance to be these future leaders in their community in a big way. Giving these adults the esteem to provide for their families.

Why are Christians getting caught up in the details of exactly who ought to be serving such needs? Why are we stepping in the way of mouths being fed and fruitful work being created? Who are we to stop anyone from doing what God has laid on their hearts to do? Who the hell do we truly think we are when we take stands against something or someone that is doing good, and insist that it is, "in fact" evil?

For what cause? To spread God's love?

I'm not feelin' it.



Edit Update for clarity:
Here's a post that irked me: HERE
And here's one that didn't irk me: HERE

Thou Shalt Be Healed...or Not... whatever.....

My dad and I :) 

Hunched forward in pain, a man I've known as far back as I can remember, moves one step at a time. He humbly admits, "I really think I only have 6 months left. I hope this isn't a reflection on my faith." 

~
Miraculous healing is hard to hear for someone who's been in my shoes. Sure, the bullets could have stopped when my cousin pulled the trigger. The cancer could have dissipated before it took my dad's life. Or better yet, we could have caught it in time to avoid the suffering. My daughter could have started breathing finally after all my desperate pleading. The rope could have torn. The car could have stopped.

But alas, these things didn't happen. Everyone has to die someday. It's just the facts. I have faith. But my faith did not cure the situations mentioned.

I believe in miracles.
But I also believe in claiming miracles wherever I see them. Claiming to the world that all you have to do is believe, a miracle WILL happen, you WILL be healed and live, has it's different interpretations.

Some interpret this to mean very literally, that your life will be spared on this earth if you believe (enough).

Yep. I snuck in that word, enough, because that's pretty much what they are saying.

Then there's my personal interpretation: I believe that miracles are performed everyday by God, and sometimes, we get to be a part of that. I also believe it's our faith that re-frames our eyes to see the miracles. Whether they be miracles of physical healing or heart healing (eternal healing).

To me, there's a big difference between physical and heart healing.

Physical healing is obvious. The cancer is gone! You've made a full recovery from your car accident! You can walk!

There was once a girl in our youth group, in a wheel chair, and her only way of communicating was through typing on her small device. She was the sweetest. I sat next to her and the leader told us to talk about miracles and what kind of miracles there are. So I turned to her and asked her that question. She slowly typed the words, "Do you ever think God could make me walk?" I didn't know how to answer her. At that point, my dad (who was strong in his faith) died of cancer a few years back, and frankly, I became bitter with "miracles". I knew they happened, but not to me. So I responded to this girl who locked her eyes on me the best she could, "Maybe some day. You never know." I forced a smile, but wanted to hang my head low.

Years passed and I sat at a graduation ceremony. The names were endlessly called and I began to drown it out. But then, out of nowhere, the crowd started roaring! The role calling had ceased for this moment, and there she was. With walker in hand, that precious girl from youth group, walking across that stage and took her own diploma. I get teary just thinking about it.

The heart healing goes so much deeper. This is where "the Body" really comes into play in my life. I've seen miracles, but I've also seen suffering and death. This kind of healing is life long. People are put into your life that give you Jesus' love. It's those moments when things didn't go your way, but they turned out to be a blessing. It's the times when you meet someone and they share with you a story that was so encouraging to you, and now you can walk more confident that you are, indeed, loved. It's those times when that woman who was abused and dehumanized, realizes that she is so very precious. It's when a piece of heaven is brought to earth and the Body coming together as it should. That's a miracle.

And God knows I can't wait to find that ultimate healing that comes in the end. As Marcus Mumford wrote in his song,
"And there will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears.
And love will not break your heart, but release your fears.
Get over your hill and see what you find there
with Grace in your heart and flowers in your hair."

Open your eyes to the miracles all around you. Embrace the now. Love on each other.
~
When I heard that once strong man say those words, I responded, "When Dad got sick, we prayed for 2 things: That he be healed. And that we would be prepared for the journey ahead. Our prayers were answered."
~
My dad is now healed as he sits in paradise. And we are still standing on our crippled legs. It's not a matter of having enough faith to be healed. It's a matter of having the faith that opens your eyes and reaches you further passed the physical healing into the heart healing. Both are real. Neither should be used against anyone, judging them on their own faith. Don't be defeated by any absence of physical healing, when heart healing is always happening.

Broken Over Broken Pieces

Trying to reach for better toys, my two year got a hold of my six year old's ceramic tea set. I became aware of this transfer when I heard the pieces crashing to the ground. Luckily most of it was salvaged, but many were broken. The owner of said tea set was in instant tears, leaving the guilty party confused and curious about what had just happened. I tried comforting my daughter by saying, "It's ok, it's ok. We'll be able to fix some of it." She continued to cry for a while, but had hope that her awesome, crafty, skillful momma would come to the rescue! 

But not all brokenness can be made right by us, yeah?

Most times, all the apologies of the world can't bring back what was lost or mend what is broken. Validation can only feel as good as that chocolate fix you eat once in a while.... (or if you're like me, everyday... ) Or better yet, it's like a pacifier made out of sugar, that dissolves over a short amount of time, leaving you to the inevitable crash later. (surely I'm not the only one with my hand raised for being guilty of this) 

Then you have the self pity. Oh Lord, the self pity! It's one thing to share your story to comfort others and let them in on all you've been through to show you've survived. It's quite another thing when you are in your closed quarters, feeling sorry for yourself, wallowing in "woe is me" attitude over all your trials and tribulations. 

Truth is self pity doesn't work. Why? Because everyone has something going on, right now, that weighs heavy. Everyone has some kind of turmoil around them, whether it be family, finances, marriages, kid problems, abuse, neglect, stresses from too many people depending on them. 

It's hard stepping outside of yourself, and look across the table and actually "see" the person in front of you. Do you see their tired eyes? Do you see the tears behind their smile? Have you even asked them how they are doing? 

If you've ever seen mosaic art, you know that these artists take all these broken pieces of all these different things and do something amazing with them. So many colors of the brokenness pieced together to design this beautiful picture. 

It's ok to feel broken. It's normal. It's human. But the beauty of it is that we are not broken alone. We are one big broken mess. We are being used in differently ways according to our broken unique selves. The Grand Designer is at work. 

I glued what I could to help fix my daughter's tea set. But some of it, I had to throw away. Thank God, it's not my responsibility to fix people. 

Little Red Book: Subway Is Good and So Are Old People

I'm realizing now that I haven't done a Little Red Book in a looooong time. So here's a "passage" from my little red notebook that I carry everywhere.

"I'm sitting at Subway in the van with the kids, as my husband is inside getting our food. There's a car with an old woman in the passenger seat next to me. She sits lonely as she waits, just like me. Her head is down as she examines the wrinkles of her frail hands.

All of the sudden, she perks up to see something from afar. In curiosity, I look to see what she's looking at. A man was escorting, who appeared to be, his very elderly mother across the sidewalk, arm in arm, heading into the Subway. 

I looked back at the older woman, the one sitting next to me in the car, to witness her sweet wrinkly cheeks being pushed up from the smile that beamed on her face from such a site." 

Overwhelmed Out Loud

Yesterday was heavy.

Ever have one of those days when everything seems to go down all at once? There were so many tears yesterday. Some I watched fall from others, some of my own, contributed. So many fears expressed in words that won't leave my head. So much spiritual warfare because you know that you're doing something right.

I'm sad to say it left me feeling like a zombie. I didn't even know how to express myself properly. I felt helpless to others, but also helpless to myself. I was so overwhelmed with grief for those close around me, remembering my own. The last 2 days, my 2 year old kept putting rubber bands on her wrists and her hands would turn blue. That made me flash back to some of the most traumatic memories in my whole life. I was crying and shaking with fear, trying to rip them off her hands. The images kept replaying over and over of how I found Sarah. I compare this best to PTSD.  I went from sitting there silent mulling over it, to crying my eyes out.

I was in such despair about the heartache of this world, that I must confess I didn't even want to read scripture. Any amount of spiritual words I was convinced would not help these present situations. The scriptures wouldn't make it so someone doesn't die, or that someone might not suffer.

I don't know if any of this is making sense. Maybe it'll only make sense to those that have had these very situations happen.

I have a very close friend that kept encouraging me to read "out loud" scripture (through a message she sent me, of course, I didn't want to actually be around anyone that day). She pointed me to the Psalms. I was in such a frozen and weak state that I didn't want to get up to fetch the very book full of Psalm. In jest, I said to myself (almost with contempt), "Well, I only know one by heart out of the Psalms and that's gonna have to be good enough for now!" So I continued out of obedience to my own conscience, "out loud." (because you can only fight spiritual warfare out loud)  So the words flowed out of my mouth,

"When my heart is overwhelmed, lead me to the rock that is higher than I. " Psalm 61:2

As soon as I said it, I realized that was going to be enough for now because that's all I had the energy for and it was perfect for what I sought.

The day dragged on, but when my husband got home, I instantly rested my head on his chest and he held me so willingly. I explained to him everything that was going on and confessed my attitude about the scriptures. He said, "Kailan, the scriptures don't change the situation that you're in, they change your heart. It changes the perspective on how you look at the situation."

I missed that step.

I woke up this morning feeling much lighter. Fresh day for continued healing.

Just Breathe

Oh, my heart. It hurts!

I was just reading a caringbridge post from a friend of mine from church. Her adult son has cancer and is told he has only a few months left to live. I've been following their story and it hits home.

When I read her talking about their journey of all the triumphs and trials, I remember my teenage-hood clouded with anxiety and grief as I watched my own father die from cancer as well.

There's nothing like waiting for someone close to you to pass. There's nothing like watching them and taking care of them in the years, months, and days before they pass. There's immediate shock when one dies so suddenly, taking every strength you have just to catch your breath. Not having a chance to say "good bye". Your heart being ripped out of you so fast, you're not sure if you're going to survive. But when you have to watch and wait and talk to them, knowing that they are not going to be here anymore very soon. It's like the oxygen is getting slowly sucked out of the air. You panic. You hold your breath. You are left helpless.

Both are just as traumatizing, but so very different.

It takes it's toll on you when you watch and wait. I call it "pre-grieving". You are already grieving them, with no release, no "moving forward" with that point. You just are. You're stuck. Some for days, some for months, and some for years. Stuck in this "pre-grieving" state.

As their health deteriorates, your prayer starts to change. You go from "Lord, please, give us time!" to "Lord, please, give them mercy and bring them home to You where there is no pain, no suffering, and no tears."

Only when they have passed, can you even start any amount of the healing process. You find solace in the fact that they are no longer suffering any more. You look as if you've been drug through dirt and you have. You have been stuck in this "pre-grieving" phase and now... it's done. The fear of their absence is finally upon you.

And you breathe.

"You are so strong" they say.

No, I'm not strong. I'm crumbled into a pile of ashes that feel stomped on by every person who brings up what kind of fork to use for their pasta that arrived so late! Everything seems so futile at that point. But you keep breathing.

"You are so strong" they say.

No, I'm not strong. I'm mad. I'm angry. Why? Why did this have to happen? Why can't I have him anymore? What have I done to deserve this? Why does anyone have to die? Why, Lord?! Yeah, I'm talking to You, WHY?!   .... more tears. more groaning. more breathing.

"You are so strong" they say.

No, I'm not strong. It is He who is strong. He who made the heavens and the Earth. And now He has my loved one, sitting next to Him, at home where we all belong.

with no more suffering. no more tears. no more pain.

and you breathe.

You breathe in the promise that you will one day be reunited.

You breathe in the memories.

My heart still aches from this pain. It depends on the hour whether the ache is at it's greatest, or it's least. But it's always there. Faithfully always there.

But I try not to let it haunt me anymore. I let it remind me of the bigger picture.

I honor his life by standing on my crippled legs and singing "Blessed Be Your Name".

Why?

Because I am a child of the Most High God.

I am His bondservant.




You can read my friend's story here. Join us in prayer for the Bickford family.