tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32379548476343319292024-03-05T14:09:03.005-08:00always second chancesa blog about being crazy, shattering cliches...and finding hope in second chancesdebbealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03738810557777390429noreply@blogger.comBlogger480125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3237954847634331929.post-18107457184621859672020-07-30T19:17:00.004-07:002020-07-30T19:50:47.782-07:00Oceans<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="background-color: white;">"</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">We did not select you to proceed to the next stages of the application process." </span></i></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I rushed through the rejection email, convincing myself that if I deleted the email quickly enough, I could pretend it hadn't happened. No one would have to know. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;">The speedy actions of my fingers on the keyboard didn't tamp out the sting I still felt. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;">It was a remote job I had applied to - sort of on a whim, sort of because I was curious about it. Once they saw my resume and application, I was certain that I would be the one interviewing them for the job. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;">But here I was, literally staring rejection in the face. Again. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;">My new reality has stirred up a lot about identity, value, worth. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;">I'm in an ocean of unknown territory. It's a new ocean, but it brings about familiar memories from days long ago. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;">The waves come and, as they hit, they cause me to feel unwanted or inadequate. There is</span></span><span style="color: #222222;"> reprieve as they settle, but I know looming in the distance more are on the horizon. Sometimes they will sweep me up, toss me around, and I struggle to find my way back to the top of the surface where I remember that I can breathe and that I'll have better perspective. In the cartwheel of no oxygen, I scrape the bottom and my eyes sting with saltwater. For a moment, I feel like I'm drowning. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;">In these moments, I often have gut-wrenching conversations with the Lord as I realize how easily I continue to equate my worth to productivity. Somewhere in me, I continue to believe that if I prove myself, I'll be more satisfied. <i>Do</i> this and you'll be something. You'll matter in this world. You'll have proven that you're capable, qualified, reliable. You'll have "arrived". </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;">It's a silly lie. But it's a real one. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;">One that my rational, mature, intellectual self can recognize and battle. But in my weaker moments, on my weaker days, I can slip into lapses of self-defeat, self-doubt, self-loathing. This is the collision where my stroke fails at the very instant the wave breaks and I find myself upside-down, gasping for air underwater, eyes burning, wondering if this time I'll make it out unscathed. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;">Sometimes it makes me fear the ocean. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;">Sometimes it causes me to want to stay on the shore. The satisfaction of the water doesn't always feel worth being violently tossed to and fro. Sometimes, in my most fragile state, I can't bear the thought of entering into the abyss of the unknown... not knowing where I will land at the end of it all. It feels easier to stay where I know I'm safe. Or, at least, saf<i>er</i>. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;">But here I am. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;">Facing a new ocean. A new reality. New fears. New dreams. And while I can generally be strong and courageous, there are instances where I really do wonder if I have enough in me to start over, to begin again, to make new friends, to find a new team, to face the chorus of rejection that generally comes when you put yourself out there. To come back to the surface after I eat sand at the bottom. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;">And these are the conversations with God that remind me that my worth cannot be found in <i>doing</i>. I have had a to take a good, hard look at the mirror the last several months as process through the events in my life and in the world around us lately. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;">There have been sporadic minutes between the baby's naps that I have chosen to avoid the mirror because I haven't wanted to give myself an honest look. Minutes where it's easier to scroll through social media and judge the myriad of opinions, comments, and controversy. Minutes where it's easier to stay up with the news -- learning about the latest coronavirus numbers, devastation, and impacts. But there are other minutes when I hop on the mower and I cannot escape. Here I realize that there is still pain and fear....there are still wounds that take time to heal. There are other minutes where I open Scripture and am ever-aware of God's promises, of His faithfulness throughout the entirety of mankind. Here I realize that I will be okay... this will be okay. That He <i>will</i> fulfill His purpose for me (Psalm 138). </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;">All too often I can convince myself that I am capable... on my own. Able to achieve, conquer, do anything, be anything... </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;">And then I am brought back to my knees, assured that my most vulnerable dependence brings a strength I cannot produce on my own. That the humiliation of the mirror transpires into a fortitude of faith that necessitates willingness, discipline, and courage. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;">I wish I could scream that I am strong, able, and resilient. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;">But I must confess that I am weak, scared, and dependent. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;">There are many more conversations to be had between God and I, as He gently reminds me about who I am and, more importantly, who <i>He</i> is. And as I stand on the shore, scared to jump back in again, waiting for the waves to calm down... I marvel that He is so patient with my fears, my wounds, my insecurities. I am in awe of how He takes care of me, no matter how big the waves have been, no matter how unsteady I have felt. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;">What kindness. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;">What mercy. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;">What <i>love</i>. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;">Of this I am sure: </span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">I am not alone. </span><br />
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;">This ocean will not swallow me. </span></span><br />
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debbealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03738810557777390429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3237954847634331929.post-36511031565961828232020-07-07T12:12:00.000-07:002020-07-07T18:11:11.455-07:00GratitudeThe overarching feeling over the last week is: <i>gratitude</i>.<br />
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It’s been a crazy but slow, surreal but real, terrifying but calm kind of week. And while there were moments of despair, there were many more moments of doing what is needed, despite the pit growing in your stomach as the hours slog on without word... there were still reasons to be thankful, still reasons to smile. Sometimes that feels insane to me.<br />
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Because life still goes on.<br />
Babies still cry.<br />
Kids still need to eat.<br />
And sometimes, somehow, the most significant thing in front of you isn’t whether your brother will live or die, but the diffusing of a brotherly quarrel. Or being present enough to be goofy and ridiculous and in the moment. To be safe and steady, so those around you don’t fall apart.<br />
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And as the clock ticked, as the waiting brought fear and the dread of the worst news possible... we were surrounded by a cloud of support and prayer. A local community who dropped everything to bring food, toys, wine... a kind neighbor with a miraculous bag of soccer balls... money coming in from faces of the past (sometimes even unknown faces - friends of family or friends)... texts, messages, notes of encouragement and thoughtfulness. A time when the world can feel so divided, but we have had the beautiful privilege of seeing and experiencing how united humanity can be. <i>Gratitude. </i><br />
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I’ve been ever aware of the things I don’t deserve. The things I’m not entitled to. The things that are a gift, each and every day. Breath. Life. Family. Health. Grace. Mercy. People who love, people who give... and ask for nothing in return. <i>Gratitude</i>.<br />
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When I was first considering coming to Massachusetts, I was plagued by a lot of uncertainty. While I wanted to be here to help, it initially meant leaving behind our baby, it meant risking coronavirus and potentially bringing it to my brother. But Kel requested to join me, along with our baby - which brought a set of more challenges. While it meant we would be together, it meant we would have 5 kids: a 7-year-old, two 6-year-olds, two babies (9 months and 10 months). It meant Kel couldn’t begin real estate and that a reliable income for us would get delayed. It meant my mom and dad would have to keep our giant dogs, the cat, and the plants alive while we were gone. It meant more people potentially more exposed, which meant a higher risk of bringing coronavirus with us. It meant disrupting barely established rhythms for Baby K.<br />
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But Kel said, “It’s better when we’re together”. We’re a team. He supports me, I support him. I’ve never been more grateful for his persistence in joining me... and maybe never been more humbled by his love for me. When you say your vows on your wedding day, you can’t possibly anticipate the bumps you’ll encounter along the journey. Kel has effectively loved me by loving my family in some of the most beautiful ways.<br />
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One of my brother’s biggest concerns was that his boys were going to have a miserable summer... dad with open heart surgery on top of a pandemic. Any chance of fun had been thrown out the window. But, introduce Uncle Kel and suddenly we have a Pokémon playmate, a superhero guru, a soccer coach, and man who laughs easily while also establishing boundaries. This uncle is also a man who graciously does the dishes, helps the boys make pancakes, changes the poopy diapers, sweeps the floors, plays with the babies— and uses the spare moments to complete assignments for his online college and do some onboarding for his new real estate job. A man who lets me weep in his arms, without trying to fix it or explain away the mysteries of life. A man who stepped instantly into fatherhood with love and selflessness. <i>Gratitude. </i><br />
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We have a lot to be thankful for. A lot that hasn’t been promised to us.<br />
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And the most striking part of this entire experience has been the way people love. True reflections of of Jesus in this world. I’m inspired to look more like Him because of the people around me lately... to be an unlikely giver, a selfless lover, a go-out-of-my-way caretaker, a postpone-my-plans to be present liver, a shut-up-and-listen speaker. A person who is moved by the Spirit in action, word, and prayer.<br />
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I know we’re all sifting through a lot right now. Processing grief. Responding to change. Defending what we believe is right and good. Searching for courage in the face of fear and the unknown. Clinging to the glimpses of hope in this world.<br />
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Not all is lost.<br />
In the midst of despair, there always remains a reason to be thankful. A reason to smile. A purpose to this life. At my brother’s house, there is a framed writing that I’ve spent a lot of time staring at. It simply reads, “If you gave your life to love them, so will I.”<br />
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It cost Him everything.<br />
For this broken humanity, God gave up everything. Even while we were His <i>enemies</i>. The gospel is unbelievable, unimaginable, unfathomable <i>good news</i>. How we respond means everything...<br />
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Thanks for reflecting Jesus to me/my family. For reminding me of the sacrifice, the cost, the selflessness that comes with love and the <i>many</i> different ways love can look. But love always costs something. Time. Words. Safety. Money. Pride. Comfort. <i>Something. </i><br />
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Hold your people closer tonight.<br />
Say the things you want to say, even if they sound too sappy or out of nowhere. Even if it means you might be left exposed and vulnerable. Forgive the people who have hurt you... in case you run out of time. Ask to be forgiven from those whom you have hurt... in case you run out of time. Give, when that little prompting tugs at your heart- maybe in words, maybe with your time, maybe with money. Listen to those that are different than you. Show up. Watch the dogs. Mow the lawn. Water the plants. Consider what love has cost you lately.<br />
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Matt came home today. A miracle. A gift. <i>Gratitude</i>.<br />
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We will be in MA one more week as Matt and Megan ease into a new normal for the foreseeable future. Pray for Matt’s recovery to be swift and for Megan, as she handles the rest of the houses’ needs - it’s a lot. The church and local community here has been incredible, and for that, I am once again grateful to leave them in good hands.<br />
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Thank you, friends and family.<br />
There are no other words.... but<i> gratitude. </i><br />
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<i><br /></i>debbealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03738810557777390429noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3237954847634331929.post-49402922788759872312020-06-25T12:00:00.002-07:002020-06-25T14:54:13.631-07:00A Heart to Heart<div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYKlvSioCyumTJUdCtAZ6_HLJC0E5VAeFz_JvfcQfWl101V0SBClYYEd79rFD3iZtaSO-ZHkg1I8LcX6EPJ49IZkLoLdPS2otEs5DV5ob3-Re__87tEA1cHxd0Eu1hNNFLIzh8Q67SrXM/s1600/IMG_4099.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYKlvSioCyumTJUdCtAZ6_HLJC0E5VAeFz_JvfcQfWl101V0SBClYYEd79rFD3iZtaSO-ZHkg1I8LcX6EPJ49IZkLoLdPS2otEs5DV5ob3-Re__87tEA1cHxd0Eu1hNNFLIzh8Q67SrXM/s320/IMG_4099.jpeg" width="320" /></a>It's been a crazy year, to say the least. A lot of unimaginable things have happened. Probably most of us can say that.<br />
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Sometimes it feels hard to reflect on or to process. And that's generally what writing is for me... a cathartic release, a chewing on, a musing. But sometimes it's just an update for the few that wonder what the Beals are up to, especially now that we've relocated. </div>
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So, that's what you get in this post. An update. </div>
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We moved to Columbia, Missouri on May 29th and 30th. I flew with Baby K and Kel followed the next day (with help from a good friend and his parents) with our two Great Pyrs, Archie (the split-toed cat), and all of my plants/seedlings (and almost all have survived!). They also brought a few of our belongings, too. </div>
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It's certainly a little weird to move home in the middle of a pandemic. It mostly feels like a really long vacation without a ton of freedom to move about and get to know new people or get "plugged in" to things in Columbia. I haven't been sad about that yet. I feel grateful to be able to soak in the time, my family, the sun, and watching our sweet baby grow. I don't feel as divided. I don't feel as rushed, as hurried...I don't feel a pressure to produce (unless we are talking about the plants I brought bearing fruit). I love that Baby K gets to be with Mumsy and Pops every day and that I can learn from them as I figured out this whole parenting business. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAK0AJx0RfDknRLUE8MEliJMDArNMAXyqdJrlSH9DP9T3jj3mDQD-4bDCAF4_nQ_xTKiD-Zovub6e5sQ_Yp6IdnnXZBBKzqUZX4ob4_FCG5U6QHu5NQTusX8RvCmTOpkT2qI2uMvh5Cr0/s1600/IMG_4303.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAK0AJx0RfDknRLUE8MEliJMDArNMAXyqdJrlSH9DP9T3jj3mDQD-4bDCAF4_nQ_xTKiD-Zovub6e5sQ_Yp6IdnnXZBBKzqUZX4ob4_FCG5U6QHu5NQTusX8RvCmTOpkT2qI2uMvh5Cr0/s320/IMG_4303.jpeg" width="240" /></a>It's a new way of life. </div>
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With new rhythms and habits and freedoms. </div>
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Since moving, we have witnessed some incredible sunsets, enjoyed warm summer nights on the porch, taken long walks with dogs or a baby in tow, eaten a 5 lb. bag of octopus sour gummies (thanks Jill), had our cat get somewhat mutilated by a raccoon, mowed acres of lawn, watched Baby K learn new tricks and talents every day, and enjoyed some quality time with family. We also bought a car (I think). Kel just passed his real estate exams and signed with a broker- so he will hopefully be selling houses in no time! </div>
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Since moving, we have also learned that my family appears to carry a genetic disorder called Loeys-Dietz syndrome. Although my youngest brother had been born with heart issues and had emergency open heart surgery when he was 19, we had never considered the possibility that more of us might be impacted. Due to a series of fortunate (God-sized, really) events, my oldest brother will undergo open heart surgery on July 2. It's really better if you <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IuiMe6JAuB0&feature=youtu.be">hear it directly</a> from him, though (and also <a href="https://www.gofundme.com/f/ad8r3d-Webels-BIG-Heart-Problem">a way you can support</a> them, if you feel led). Kel and I will fly out to Boston next week with Baby K to help be available for whatever needs arise for him and his family for two weeks during surgery and the first week of recovery at home. They have three boys and a little foster baby (who is only one month younger than K), so we are eager to spend some time with them! If you think of it, we would absolutely love prayer for safety and to remain COVID-free before/during our trip. The last thing we would want to do is bring the virus to my brother when he is in such a vulnerable state. </div>
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Because it's genetic, we are working to get more of our family tested and checked out. My mom and I got echocardiograms this week to see if our aortas were also enlarged, as that would be a very likely indicator that we carry the gene. While my heart looks relatively normal, our suspicions that the gene had come through my mom's side of the family appears to be confirmed, as her aorta is also slightly enlarged. She will need to have it monitored each year to check for rapid growth. There is still the chance that those of us who don't show the same heart symptoms could still be carriers for the genetic disorder. </div>
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No one wants to have open heart surgery... and no one wants to have it in the middle of a pandemic. My family is so grateful that we are on the front side of this and that we can learn more about this disorder for the generations that come after us. We trust the Lord with all of it- His timing, His plans, His sovereignty. We covet any and all prayers for my brother and his family as they go through this next season of recovery and transition. And also for more understanding of Loeys-Dietz and how it might impact more of our family members. </div>
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It's such a crazy season. </div>
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In the moments of quiet, I find myself listening, reading, trying to learn more about what I don't know... and also just being. It's a good place to be right now. In a lot of ways, it feels like the only place I can be.</div>
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debbealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03738810557777390429noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3237954847634331929.post-90793726265346558912020-06-02T07:50:00.000-07:002020-06-02T07:50:31.977-07:00Martin Luther King, Jr.’s Most Powerful Weapon<div>
<i>Written in January 2018: </i></div>
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“I have a dream…”. These four simple words trigger a reaction from almost every American as we immediately consider the man who boldly declared them and the impact of the Civil Rights Movement on our country. Martin Luther King, Jr. stands out in history as a figure who activated change and is uniquely known by all citizens, whether Christian or not, as a man who remained true to his personal convictions towards social justice and non-violent resistance. What most fail to realize are how deep these convictions ran and how much more to the man there was beyond these four simple words. While many have fought the battles of social injustice, what sets King apart from all the rest was his utter devotion to Jesus Christ. This paper will first reveal King’s growing passion for God and civil rights during his formative years, his deep roots in prayer and the understanding of Scripture, and how, as a result, social justice and non-violent resistance became non-negotiable components of his faith.<br /><br /><br /><b>Formative Years </b><br />“Of course I was religious. I grew up in the church. My father is a preacher, my grandfather was a preacher, my great-grandfather was a preacher, my only brother is a preacher, my daddy’s brother is a preacher. So I didn’t have much choice.” King’s journey with religion started at a young age as his childhood revolved in and around the church. While the core tenants of his faith would be shaped over the course of his life, especially during college and seminary, he traced his family as a strong influencer in his early years. It was in his youth that he would be introduced to the Lord, gain a very basic understanding of social injustices in America, and begin to learn how these two things needed to interact with each other in order to live out the Gospel more fully. <br /><br />King’s initial understanding of the Lord was sprung from his own experiences with his family—and since his family was filled with closeness and love, it was only expected that his view of the Lord would be that of a loving Father. However, King’s walk down the aisle as a five-year-old to join the church had more to do with keeping up with his sister than it did about what the Lord was doing in his heart and life. He would quickly grow out of this and begin to find a second home in the church. Both of King’s parents played a pivotal role in teaching and training him up to be a man that was not only devout in his relationship with God, but also in his quest for equality. King described in his autobiography how, as a young boy, his mother attempted to explain the injustices of racial segregation and, while the world may seem against them, he was to believe that he was “as good as anyone”. <br /><br />King’s father also taught him significant values when it came to equality, as he was a man driven by a deep sense of integrity and morals. He not only spoke with conviction and, oftentimes, bluntness, but he was a man who lived boldly out of this conviction. King recounts a story in his youth that was quite formative in his mind, telling readers of a time when his father chose to walk out of a shoe store rather than be moved to the back of the store, out of sight of the large windows in the front where anyone walking by could have spotted them. Instances like these would continue to shape and challenge King’s perspective on this interaction between his faith, the world around him and how he ought to live in the midst of a broken, fallen, and unequal world.<br /><br />Even as a 14-year-old, King was figuring out that the things he was discovering on his Christian journey were a sharp contrast to the reality that he was living. “We cannot be truly Christian people so long as we flout the central teachings of Jesus: Brotherly love and the Golden Rule,” King wrote in an oratory contest that he won. The more he learned about the Lord and Scripture, the more he was convinced that his reality (and America’s reality) needed to change. A trip to Connecticut right before college gave King a new and eye-opening perspective on America—not all of it was segregated. In the north, King was given freedoms that he had never had and this discrepancy contributed even more to the animosity toward racial inequality that was growing in his heart. <br /><br />King’s faith in the Lord was steadfast except for a short stint in college where he received opportunities to challenge the teachings of his youth and process through the inconsistencies he saw in the African American churches. To him, they were highly emotional and most of the pastors had no seminary education. As he began to wonder if religion could be “intellectually respectable” as well as “emotionally satisfying”, his skepticism would lead him deeper into his studies of Scripture and other philosophers and theologians. His discoveries, as well as his encounters and friendships with stand-up and respectable ministers in college, would free him to see that the two concepts were compatible and lead him to pursue a career in the ministry. King wrote: <br /><blockquote class="tr_bq">
I guess the influence of my father had a great deal to do with my going into the ministry. This is not to say that he ever spoke to me in terms of being a minister but that my admiration for him was the great moving factor. He set forth a noble example that I didn’t mind following. I still feel the effects of the noble moral and ethical ideals that I grew up under. They have been real and precious to me, and even in moments of theological doubt I could never turn away from them.</blockquote>
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Without these formative years being filled with truths about God’s character while also tackling the challenges of being heavily immersed in racial inequality at the time, it is unlikely that King would have developed the habits he did as he began to pursue his seminary degree, and then his doctorate, which would lead him to his pastoral job and eventually his central role in the Civil Rights Movement. His course of study would cause him to reflect on the teachings of Henry David Thoreau, Plato, Aristotle, Rousseau, Hobbes, Bentham, Mill, Locke and many more. He eventually encountered the teachings of Gandhi and his already developing ideas and passion for non-violent resistance were affirmed in a way that he had not yet studied. Gandhi’s words challenged King and allowed him to set his reform model into motion—with an emphasis on love and nonviolence rooted in the teachings of Christ. This model would be the driving force of King’s efforts throughout his life. <br /><br /><br /><b>Prayer</b><br />Now that we have seen how King’s youth shaped his spirituality, forming a steady foundation to his passion for social justice, this paper will show the large emphasis that King placed on the necessity of prayer, understanding Scripture, and his response to both of these foundations in such a way that resulted in action.<br /><br />Prayer was a vital component of King’s spiritual life and a source of strength throughout the many tribulations he experienced. It was not only something that King grew to be deeply committed to, but something that he was urged to engrain into his life by his father: “You see young man you are becoming very popular. As I told you you must be much in prayer. Persons like yourself are the ones the devil turns all of his forces aloose to destroy.” This exhortation to King may have produced seeds that caused him to rely on prayer in a way that not only affected his own spiritual life, but the lives of those around him. In fact, King referenced the importance of praying often and there is evidence of that sprinkled throughout his speeches, sermons, writings, and interviews.<br /><br />For King, this discipline did not arise from a few years in seminary, but out of the depths of the African traditions that were passed down to him through his family. These traditions taught that prayer for his ancestors was “…much more than the heart and soul of a religion, or an essential aspect of spirituality; it was a necessary ingredient in the total experience of living.” Prayer was a faith component that King relied on and he spurred others to do the same (although, of course, not without action to accompany it). He had a habit of a regular evening prayer and was committed to this time in conversation with the Lord. <br /><br />One particular story that King tells in his sermon, <i>Our God is Able</i>, reveals the impact that his relationship with the Lord had on him and his pursuit of non-violent resistance. He describes in great detail receiving a threatening phone call and being on the verge of quitting all of his efforts in the Civil Rights Movements. He did not feel like he had the strength to carry on and, in earnest, honest conversation with the Lord, he prayed: “I am here taking a stand for what I believe is right. But now I am afraid. The people are looking to me for leadership, and if I stand before them without strength and courage, they too will falter. I am at the end of my powers. I have nothing left. I’ve come to a point where I cannot face it alone.”<br /><br />He goes on to describe the divine interaction that took place that evening, as he experienced a sense of peace and resolution in God’s presence. This is just one example of many revealing how often King communed with the Lord and was encouraged, comforted and inspired to do even greater things for the Kingdom of God. One can see that these conversations were both honest and sincere and allowed for transformation to happen in King’s mind and heart as he perpetually pursued transformation in the world around him. These were the prayers of a man who insisted that, “…a dynamic prayer life is essential for any social movement.”<br /><br /><br /><br /><b>Understanding Scripture</b><br />In addition to prayer, it is necessary to realize that Martin Luther King, Jr. was not just a leader in the Civil Rights Movement, but also a reverend that preached many sermons that required him to be very familiar with Scripture. These encounters with the Bible shaped not only the words that he spoke and wrote, but also the philosophies that guided his life. He was directed by the teachings he found in the word of God and held them to be true, even in the midst of such inequality. During his interview at Dexter Avenue Baptist Church, before preaching, King found himself saying, “Keep Martin Luther King in the background and God in the foreground and everything will be all right. Remember you are a channel of the gospel and not the source.” King’s focus was always on God’s agenda, not his own and he knew it was necessary to be well-versed in Scripture in order to communicate that to others. <br /><br />If one reads or listens any of Martin Luther King, Jr.’s sermons, they will quickly notice how prevalent Scripture is in them. A lot of Scripture even directly influenced his prayer life, as many of his prayers are filled with Old and New Testament references. The more he studied the Bible, coupled with his quest after other great philosophers and reformers before him, the more his life was impacted and changed. King considered the Bible to be an authoritative source, although he primarily preached from the New Testament. One sermon King delivered was Paul’s Letter to the American Christians. Using Paul’s epistles as a reference, King molded a letter (in the form of a sermon) in modern day terms to speak to the American people in a way that would hopefully cause them to consider how their actions were reflecting those of the often-scorned recipients of Paul’s letters. Through this unique role, King not only addressed the negative idols that America had latched onto (capitalism, materialism, and sectarianism), but he also brought out the concept of nonviolence “using Christian symbols and imagery.” One particular witness, Henry H. Mitchell, of this speech wrote about the power of event and King’s impact on the audience:</div>
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…his delivery started slowly and never gained speed or volume, but it gripped and held this audience of ten thousand or more…We hung over the balcony rail and wept unashamedly. When he quietly announced the pro forma, ‘I must close now,’ the sea of black Baptists arose as one and protested.</blockquote>
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Not only were his sermons rooted in Scripture, but his speeches as a Civil Rights leader were also laced with Biblical text and they were captivating. Clayborne Carson, in his introduction to A Knock at Midnight writes that King’s speeches “combined spiritual inspiration and social analysis, careful preparation and extemporaneous insightfulness.” While King’s speeches were founded in the teachings of Christ and spoken through this Biblical basis, his voice was powerful among Christians and non-Christians alike. This gave him ample opportunity to live out his faith in a way that affected a large array of people not only across the entire country and but also many years after his death.<br /><br /><br /><b>Non-violent Resistance</b><br />Through King’s steadfast upbringing, dedication to prayer and involvement in Scripture, he knew that his life must also reflect the truths that were being realized within. His spirituality was founded in action, as he was deeply convicted that he must live out the very things he was claiming from the pulpit or podium. Non-violent resistance in the face of the Civil Rights Movement would not only become a reform strategy, but it would become an identifying factor of his personal faith in Jesus Christ and his convictions to live out of that fully. <br /><br />As already discussed, King’s progression in his faith and also his interactions with social injustice led him down a path of deep soul searching and researching the many had gone before him as he attempted to make sense of the world that didn’t seem quite right. The shame, humiliation and the feelings of being “less than” seemed contrary to the Scriptures he was growing more familiar with and, the more he learned, the more his findings would spur him into action. One of King’s first pushes for social change involved the Montgomery bus boycott in 1955. Coretta Scott King, King’s wife, wrote in the foreword of Strength to Love that this boycott is where King “first actively combined theology with social change.”<br /><br />In King’s sermon, “Love in Action”, he spent some time attempting to communicate the fullness of Luke 23:34, “Then said Jesus, Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.” In this sermon, King was encouraging the forgiveness of those who have wronged us, saying that this is “love at its best.” This mentality moved the sermon swiftly into loving our enemies and the power that can result when a person takes a nonviolent, loving stance over one of violent confrontation. His sermon on “Loving your Enemies” told a story about Abraham Lincoln who, rather than choosing to treat his arch-enemy with contempt, chose, instead, to appoint him as his Secretary of War. King stated, “If Lincoln had hated Stanton both men would have gone to their graves as bitter enemies. But through the power of love Lincoln transformed an enemy into a friend.” <br /><br />This attitude of love, even despite the opposition of hate, is one that drove King to his nonviolent methods. In his quest for eliminating social evil, King found himself adopting various positions and ideals from different philosophers. He landed in a place of allowing the “Christian doctrine of love” to be simultaneously operated with the “Gandhian method of nonviolence”, believing it to be “one of the most potent weapons available to an oppressed people in their struggle for freedom.” It was during the Montgomery bus boycott that King finally got to live out this intellectual concept and see how this was not just a nice sounding principle to talk about, but it was something he was committed to living his life by. In fact, if King had simply defined his spirituality by prayer and an understanding of Scripture, he would have been incomplete. Nonviolence resistance that moved him (and the world) forward in the fight for equality was something that was necessary to his spirituality—something that allowed him to truly live out the things he said he believed. “‘You must do more than pray and read the Bible’ to destroy segregation and second-class citizenship,’ the local newspaper reported [King] as saying; ‘you must do something about it.”’<br /><br /><br /><b>Conclusion</b><br />Martin Luther King, Jr. created many waves during the 1960s in the face of racial segregation and social injustice. While many Americans only know a limited (maybe even face value) version of the man who fought in the Civil Rights Movement and helped spur on the quest for equality, there is much more to the man than most realize. King was driven by a deep spirituality—a faith in Jesus Christ that moved him to action. His life was committed to prayer, understanding and teaching Scripture, and a commitment to nonviolent resistance in the form of love when faced with opposition. He taught from this, lived out of this, and impacted the lives of many, as a result. Carson remarks that, “King saw his religious identity as his ‘being’ and ‘heritage’…”, more than any type of Civil Rights’ leader. <br /><br />From the time King was a young boy, he found his home in the church, identified with the deep roots of African traditions that molded his own prayer rhythms throughout his life, and all of this gave him opportunity to examine Scripture in such a way that moved him toward radical action. These are the fundamentals of what drove Martin Luther King’s spirituality and, as a result, his way of life. The two are intrinsically connected, unable to be separated.<br /><br />The non-negotiable components of King’s faith (and life) were wrapped up in his upbringing, prayer-life, understanding of the Bible, and his nonviolent resistance methods. Without those fundamentals, he wouldn’t have been the man we remember, celebrate, and are challenged by today. Dr. Wyatt Tee Walker, King’s former Chief of Staff, wrote in the introduction to Rediscovering Lost Values, “Despite the now legendary oratorical gifts that King developed in his post-Montgomery career, first and foremost he was an unapologetic proclaimer of the Gospel of Jesus of Nazareth.” It seems that this would be the legacy King would have wanted to be remembered by: a man who not only challenged the status quo of his time, but did so because of Jesus Christ and what He stood for. King’s spirituality is worth knowing about and sharing with others as it can lead others back to Christ, as well as inspiring one to living a life of Christ-centered change in a fallen and broken world.<br /><br /><b><br />Appendix: Reflection</b></div>
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Researching Martin Luther King, Jr. was appealing to me, especially considering the stark contrast between he and I. Through this research, I hoped to learn, be challenged, be inspired, and be more aware of a man that I had grown up hearing and learning about. My initial curiosities about King arose from reading a few of the chapters in <i>Strength to Love</i> prior to our class. If I had reached into the recesses of my mind, I might have been able to recall certain facts about the Civil Rights leader that I had learned in elementary school. What I wouldn’t have ever recalled (perhaps because I had never learned it) was his faith and deep commitment to Scripture, prayer and living his life out of the fullness of that. The more I read, the more I learned, was challenged, inspired and more aware of who this man was and <i>why</i> he lived the way he did.</div>
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<br />King’s words are deeply convicting and the more I mulled through his sermons, prayers and got to learn about his story, I couldn’t help but wonder why I wasn’t living as radically as he. In his quest to abolish racial segregation and stand up for social justice, I couldn’t help but wonder how I could do similar things, especially with the state our world is in. What I think is most inspiring about the way King lived was how much it was based out of Scripture. He wasn’t doing it just for the sake of equality or because the personal struggle he had faced his entire life, but because of his deep convictions that this world wasn’t how the Lord intended for it to be. He was committed to living a life that enacted the very essence of the Gospel, truly seeking to live like Christ. <br /><br />I feel like I have spent the better part of my life pretty ignorant to the injustice in the world. I have been far removed from it and, as a result, been isolated from knowing how to respond or even feeling like I needed to respond. My journey through the Old Testament this last semester had already begun to plant some seeds that perhaps there was something that I needed to be doing about the injustice around me. This, coupled with a newly raging desire within to know how to respond to the heartache in this world, had my mind spinning. King’s response is a human’s response to the broken world, but I am deeply inspired by a tangible example in more modern times that we have through him as he attempted to live out of his understanding of the Bible (and the many others that he studied before him). I am inspired by the way he sought to embody Scripture in a way that not only shaped his actions, but helped pave the way for others to move into a new era of freedom and hope. <br /><br />I have been praying a lot more for wisdom and discernment on how to proceed from here. Praying a lot for opportunity and that, in the face of opportunity, I would be bold, courageous and willing to step into something that is potentially frightening but a cause worthy of fighting for. I long to be more intentional about the way I live out of the Gospel, and the way that I love others. What I also appreciate about King is that he didn’t step into any of it blindly. While he was passionate, he was also educated. He took the time to study and prepare and develop a mindset that he believed in before he was ever able to live it out. He took time to be equipped and prepared and, while this took effort, I think it also is in line with the example of others we have in Scripture. <br /><br />I have the tendency to want to rush into things, to want to do things and to make a difference. I don’t want to just sit around and talk about things, but I want to know how we can apply it and how we can put it to action. However, I do feel like there is wisdom to waiting, wisdom in being patient, wisdom in seeking to learn and know more about God’s word. I believe that I may be in this season and am eager to see where the Lord takes me in it. <br /><br />In some ways, I feel like if King were alive today, his sermons and speeches and prayers would still make a profound impact on the world around him. While there have been so many victories in the realm of racial segregation and injustices, there are still so many to overcome. I am grateful for the opportunity to learn from such a great man and hope that some day I can more fully live out of the convictions in my heart, especially when it comes to social injustice. <br /><div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ansbro, John J. </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Martin Luther King, Jr.: Nonviolent Strategies and Tactics for Social Change</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. Lanham, MD: Madison Books, 2000.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Baldwin, Lewis V. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Never to Leave Us Alone: The Prayer Life of Martin Luther King, Jr</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 2010.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Carson, Clayborne, editor. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Autobiography of Martin Luther King, Jr</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. New York, NY: Warner Books, Inc., 1998.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">King Institute Resources. Accessed January 28, 2018. http://kingencyclopedia.stanford.edu/primarydocuments/Vol2Intro.pdf.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">King, Martin Luther. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Strength to Love</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. Minneapolis, MN: Fortress, 2010.</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-right: 3.75pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 0pt 0pt 0pt 36pt; text-indent: -36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">King, Martin Luther. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A Testament of Hope: The Essential Writings of Martin Luther King, Jr</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. Edited by James Melvin Washington. New York, NY: HarperCollins, 1986.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-right: 3.75pt; margin-top: 0pt; padding: 0pt 0pt 0pt 36pt; text-indent: -36pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">King, Martin Luther. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"Thou, Dear God": Prayers That Open Hearts and Spirits</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. Edited by Lewis V. Baldwin. New York, NY: Beacon Press, 2012.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">King, Martin Luther. </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A Knock at Midnight</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. Edited by Clayborne Carson and Peter Holloran. New York: Warner Brooks, Inc., 1998.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mitchell, Henry H. "The Awesome Meek." </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pulpit Digest</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, January 1991, 23-26.</span></div>
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debbealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03738810557777390429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3237954847634331929.post-36745085246694131892020-05-06T20:11:00.000-07:002020-05-06T21:42:24.674-07:00GoI have a love-hate relationship with my birthday.<br />
<br />
In fact, I probably blog about it every year because of the inner turmoil I experience. To celebrate, or not celebrate? To take my birthday off of Facebook, or leave it up? To request anything special, or not?<br />
<br />
Getting married added a new challenge. Poor Kel suffers on this day each year, trying to do the impossible: make his wife feel special, cared for, valued. As the dreaded day approached this year, we had a few conversations about it, especially given our pandemic-world we now live in. What <i>could</i> we do and what did I <i>want</i> to do. You'd be surprised to hear I changed my mind a million times. Mostly I wanted to be content with doing nothing... and I kind of wanted everyone else to be content with that, too. But, that type of answer never really flies...<br />
<br />
But then last night, it hit me.<br />
It was <i>brilliant</i>. Mostly because it wasn't me.<br />
<br />
<i>Come to me</i>.<br />
<i>Be with me. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"</i>Kel", I said minutes later, "If you don't mind watching Baby K for a few hours tomorrow- I think I'd like to go get lost in the woods for a while".<br />
<br />
Hiking has become somewhat of a birthday tradition for us, but it's always included people. In some ways, excluding my husband felt selfish. But, it also felt necessary. Even as I typed those words, I immediately remembered The Message version of Matthew 11:28-30 that a professor had brought into a seminar on Sabbath. Check it out:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? <b>Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. </b>Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. <b>Learn the unforced rhythms of grace.</b> I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”</span></span></blockquote>
On a day that I have wrestled with wanting to be celebrated versus wanting to live with humility, it had never once dawned on me that perhaps the most perfect way to celebrate was to go <i>be</i> with my Creator. That instead of seeking the accolades of others, of wanting to know what value I have contributed to the world in these 36 years... that maybe there was actually something more beautiful about escaping to be with my Father, being in relationship with Him, being reminded of who HE is and how that defines who I am.<br />
<br />
These past weeks and months I've heard a lot about social distancing... a lot about how we were created to be in relationship with others. How, now that we can't, we realize more than ever how much we truly do need community. But, I wonder how much we've remembered that we were, first and foremost, created to be in relationship with the Creator. To love God, <i>then</i> others.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJZnPjkQuHVzhst7oXrnUCdxO1nNpiMO9QX0fbfWACVXL7nf7257yc76UcpYE8x7usj2hpvEMLP5WnPLUUpmSwvCJuRXIUrph44rYVAFzGEBgCQ8GYbip3cEzzoQhj3Ou5-gAoBzICsFM/s1600/IMG_3508.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJZnPjkQuHVzhst7oXrnUCdxO1nNpiMO9QX0fbfWACVXL7nf7257yc76UcpYE8x7usj2hpvEMLP5WnPLUUpmSwvCJuRXIUrph44rYVAFzGEBgCQ8GYbip3cEzzoQhj3Ou5-gAoBzICsFM/s320/IMG_3508.jpeg" width="320" /></a>I hiked. I hammocked. I worshipped. I dozed. I prayed. I cried. I laughed. You might have thought of me a crazy person.<br />
<br />
But it was so good.<br />
I've been so blessed by the many who have reached out to tell me kind things today. But, it will never compare to the love of a Savior, who redeems my darkest moments. He, who weeps with me, but reminds me that there is more in store. He, in whom there is eternal victory.<br />
<br />
I feel compelled to tell you, friends, to go to Him... to recover your life... to learn the unforced rhythms of grace. Even if you never have. Even if it's been years. Even if you did this morning.<br />
<br />
Henri Nouwen's book, <i>Reaching Out</i>, describes something that has stuck with me for a few years now. He pushes people to move from loneliness to solitude in the first section of his book. My basic take away is that when someone is <i>lonely</i>, our intuition is often to surround that person with people. Nouwen suggests, quite beautifully, something foreign-feeling. Instead, what if we pushed people toward solitude... <i>with God</i>. He writes, "No friend or lover, no husband or
wife, no community or commune will be able to put to rest our deepest cravings for unity and
wholeness."<br />
<br />
I have been convicted, on my birthday, of all days... how much I try to seek this wholeness from other humans. And I bet a lot of you do the same.<br />
<br />
As a result, my challenge for you (and me) is this: <i>Go</i>. Get away with God. Go without an agenda, without a plan, without expectation.<br />
<br />
Turn off the TV. Turn off your phone (or set "Do not disturb notifications" up). Set down the news. Escape into the wilderness. Disappear into a different room. Enjoy your porch at sunrise.<br />
<br />
Be willing.<br />
Be honest.<br />
Be mad. Be lonely. Be sad. Be scared. Be sick. Be healthy. Be thankful. Be happy. Be worried.<br />
<br />
<i>But go</i>.<br />
<br />
He can handle <i>all</i> of it.<br />
He is calling.<br />
Will you follow?<br />
<br />
Husbands/wives- watch the kids while the other takes some hours away.<br />
<br />
We have the time. Maybe now, more than ever before. Be in relationship, <i>yes</i>. But with the Father, first and foremost.<br />
<br />
<i>Go.</i><br />
<i>Recover your life. </i><br />
<i>Keep company with God. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
I have reason to believe that when we do this... that it (He) can change everything. I have reason to believe that it might be the best possible thing to do while in quarantine.<br />
<br />
Try it.<br />
And then let me know how it goes.<br />
<br />
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<br />debbealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03738810557777390429noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3237954847634331929.post-25581022335481538202020-05-02T13:15:00.000-07:002020-05-02T13:37:56.085-07:00It is Time<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
Yesterday felt like "one for the books".<br />
Final paycheck.<br />
Cleaning out my office.<br />
Saying goodbye to our laying hens in a rather sudden fashion.<br />
Finding out that we can move with Baby K at any point.<br />
<br />
There was a certain finality in yesterdays' events.<br />
The stark realization that I wasn't being <i>Punk'd</i>, but that all the things that had unfolded in the last several weeks were, in fact, real. That our everyday was about to look very different. That my life for the last almost 7 years was actually ending. It's not just the job... because, when you live and work at camp, losing your job means losing a lot more than losing an occupation.<br />
<br />
In the finalities, however, there was also so much blessing and goodness.<br />
<br />
As I rifled through the things in my office, it felt like a fitting departure. After all the office moves, I was ending where I started. Saying goodbye where I said hello. A perfect bookend to a season I didn't anticipate ending in this way, but every ounce of me knows: <i>It is time</i>.<br />
<br />
I don't know how to describe the inner workings, or the thoughts, or the feelings... but I can assure you that <i>even</i> in the moments of the deepest pain, there also exists a deeper peace-- a peace that resolutely knows <i>it is time</i>.<br />
<br />
Time to move on.<br />
Time to explore what's next.<br />
Time to discover new beginnings, new challenges, new (and maybe old) friendships. Time to trust God in the uncertainties, in the unknowns, in the anticipation and excitement of what could be. And there are a lot of those.<br />
<br />
If you asked us today where we will go and what we will do, we would have some ideas. Our current plan is Columbia, Missouri (where I grew up). We'll be boomerang-ing for a while, which I imagine my parents are both thrilled and terrified about. Kel is already working his way through a real-estate course and dreaming up non-profit start-ups.<br />
<br />
I, on the other hand, have been slow to latch onto anything concrete to pursue. I think a lot about discipleship, spiritual formation, counseling, church ministry, etc. ... but then feel content to just wait, <i>to be</i>, to see what happens. At least today. In the coming weeks, I imagine I'll be fine-tuning my resume and casting it out to the masses in hopes that something catches....something that I can be passionate about.<br />
<br />
It's been both hard and good to watch the life we've built up for ourselves crumble around us. As we purge, clean, and sell so many of our possessions, there is a great reminder that this world is not our home. It's a great reminder that so many of the things I store up, the things I place value in, the things that I hold onto... they only last for a finite time. It makes me reconsider what I want, what I buy, what I spend time on, what I value. Because, in a <i>moment</i>, everything in our world can change. Everything we found comfort in, security in, hope in. I'm so thankful that today, this only means our jobs, our house, our community... and that today I still have my husband, our baby, and our health. Today we are still a redeemed humanity, saved only by grace - even while we were sinners. How beautiful that <i>this never changes</i>. May we rejoice in this truth alone!<br />
<br />
It is time to sing a new song on this earth.<br />
While we're not leaving today, or tomorrow, or the next day... our remaining time in New Mexico has an end in sight. We know it will fly by. We grieve, we mourn, but we rejoice in celebrating the end of an incredible season and the beginning of another. It is time for new beginnings, new routines, new dreams, a new way of life.<br />
<br />
May our hope be resolutely found in the One who does not change, even when all around us can and does. May we rejoice in what is true, despite the hardest, saddest things that may be surrounding us. May we fix our eyes on what is unseen, may we be unified in our love for the Lord and others as we navigate through these "unprecedented times" and through the uncertainty of what lies ahead.<br />
<br />
AND, if you have any great suggestions for next my career moves, I'll happily add them to my list to consider :)<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJh3op0cRkAM0tNk6zvPEAm8A3KVtzjvyCYaqkLFeImW21EnyNZRf5BUXjJCN4mKkpmoiHPN4Nby39Fu-hi-ovDLRzxfFZECqRgBZUq47jluBckidurcDqcEXRvDcf02D1fOT1BuFX0M8/s1600/IMG_3351.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJh3op0cRkAM0tNk6zvPEAm8A3KVtzjvyCYaqkLFeImW21EnyNZRf5BUXjJCN4mKkpmoiHPN4Nby39Fu-hi-ovDLRzxfFZECqRgBZUq47jluBckidurcDqcEXRvDcf02D1fOT1BuFX0M8/s320/IMG_3351.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baby K rolls!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />debbealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03738810557777390429noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3237954847634331929.post-47901251696521885192020-04-24T19:55:00.001-07:002020-04-24T20:10:25.334-07:00Upside Down A few months ago, I had some hopes and dreams about what life "ought" to look like.<br />
<br />
They involved slowing down.<br />
Effectively, it had everything to do with actually turning life upside down.<br />
<br />
Oh, the irony.<br />
<br />
A dear friend had presented on Sabbath and it reminded me of this deeper longing within. A longing to be a person of God, first and foremost. <i>Not</i> a wife, a mother, an employee, a person people go to for solutions, etc. etc. etc. I can still be all of those things, but ideally, the first informs all the others. That being one of God's people means that I know Him, love Him, spend time with Him, am changed by Him...and that drastically impacts the way that I then relate to my husband, my child, my co-workers, my community, the strangers I encounter...<br />
<br />
I remember thinking, <i>How do I even do that? </i><br />
How do I make my life <i>so</i> about Jesus, <i>first</i>, and fill in the rest of my life around that? How do daily and weekly habits, routines, and rhythms change to become centered on Him? How do I slow down, how do I stop doing all the things that I'm doing, how do I decide what is good and what needs to cease?<br />
<br />
As a result, Kel and I decided to adopt some new habits. Ones, we hoped, that would center us back on Jesus each day. We were committed to slowly working them into our life, convinced that if we added them in at turtle-pace, we might be successful at developing new, lifelong habits. We invited others to journey with us, basing our "new habit" adventure on the book <i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Common-Rule-Habits-Purpose-Distraction-ebook/dp/B07N7QYLKB/ref=sr_1_2?crid=EB9HETS312TK&dchild=1&keywords=the+common+rule&qid=1587782947&sprefix=the+common+rule%2Caps%2C194&sr=8-2">The Common Rule</a></i>, by Justin Whitmel Early.<br />
<br />
We had just begun when coronavirus hit.<br />
Slowing down became a new way of life for us. Work from home. Eat at home. Video calls by day and by night.<br />
<br />
And then we lost our jobs.<br />
Staring into the face of our first week without 40+ hours of work brought up a lot of thoughts and emotions: anxiety, worry, fear, sorrow...questions about how we would fill the time, if our life would lack purpose.<br />
<br />
And then I remembered...<br />
Just a few months ago I had wanted to somehow, miraculously, turn life upside down.<br />
And here I was, with my life turned upside down.<br />
Living in a bit of a nightmare, but also living in one of my dreams.<br />
<br />
Here before us was a chance to <i>be</i>.<br />
For the first time, and maybe the last time.<br />
<br />
What a gift.<br />
We are literally "stuck" in New Mexico as we figure things out with Baby K- for weeks, if not months.<br />
We are literally "stuck" in our home, as the pandemic rages on - for weeks, if not months.<br />
<br />
I have hours each day to choose how I will spend my time.<br />
<br />
I wish I could say that this week has been filled with pure joy and adoration of the Father. I wish I could say that every waking moment was marked by prayer, gratitude, and a seeking to know Jesus, even in the uncertainty.<br />
<br />
There's been some of that, for sure. Some of it has come about through grief, as I work through the pain and loss only to be reminded of God's generosity and kindness. Some of it has come about through confession, as I am ever-aware of my sinful state that demands to know, that seeks to be right, that pridefully believes I am "better than" while simultaneously believing I am nothing. In these moments, I humbly encounter the Savior who washes His betrayers' feet...the Savior who restores, redeems, and places faith again in those who deny Him. In these moments, I beg that the Spirit would be strong when my flesh is so weak.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVUEV4t9rCb9O8l93oQWlrMtqmzPjOTWiB2CWnHgQwB3HwFbhnBqCCdYlNobGYjxx6_TSjxEoRzW07C04-wkguSAGZkwly9eMTKNZDyCICJJjaoPrbJjyLfQoWFSOWmnulRpCHYJ5gAfg/s1600/IMG_2822.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVUEV4t9rCb9O8l93oQWlrMtqmzPjOTWiB2CWnHgQwB3HwFbhnBqCCdYlNobGYjxx6_TSjxEoRzW07C04-wkguSAGZkwly9eMTKNZDyCICJJjaoPrbJjyLfQoWFSOWmnulRpCHYJ5gAfg/s320/IMG_2822.jpeg" width="240" /></a>In this upside down world, we have new habits.<br />
Kneeling prayer - morning, midday, and evening.<br />
Lunchtime walks.<br />
Times of solitude. Time that I've resumed journaling.<br />
Time to talk...time to dream...time to think about what could be and where the Lord might lead us next.<br />
Time for projects, for clean-up, for packing.<br />
Time for egg-collecting, plant-watching, and baby giggles.<br />
Time for making more new habits - ones we pray will stick with us in this lifetime. Ones that we pray will center us as people of God, first and foremost, so that everything else is rooted in that.<br />
<br />
Before us, each day, we have hours. Hours of opportunity. Hours I do not want to waste.<br />
<br />
In this upside down world, life looks different.<br />
And, as we move and find new careers and a new community... I hope and pray that our new "normal" looks a bit more like our current upside down world (coronavirus-free, of course). Slower. Rhythmic. Centered. Purposed and overflowing.<br />
<br />
We have an opportunity press pause. To start over. To establish a new way of life. To create a new normal.<br />
<br />
To <i>be</i> instead of being consumed by what I <i>do</i>. Because, I (sooooo easily) get consumed by <i>doing </i>and finding worth, value, and purpose in that alone.<br />
<br />
What a sweet, <i>hard</i> opportunity before us.<br />
It is one that we are painfully thankful for.<br />
<br />
A few things we would covet prayers for, if you think of it:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Figuring things out with Baby K and (hopefully!) the adoption process. </li>
<li>Jobs: Kel and I are both excited about what COULD be with our next careers, but pray that we would seek, listen, and be willing to go where the Lord leads. We have loved being a part of camp ministry and would love to <i>love</i> our next jobs, as well. </li>
<li>That we would be able to mourn, but also rejoice - even in a hard, sad season. </li>
<li>That we would invest in our community while we are still here and wouldn't withhold or draw back (we have continued to be blown away by the love they have shown us during all of this). </li>
</ul>
<br />
Thanks, friends.<br />
We are forever grateful for friends/family near and far who rally around us through all the seasons - good and bad.<br />
<br />
(Also - if you want to join in on the new habits, let me know!)<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />debbealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03738810557777390429noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3237954847634331929.post-29389577795632259612020-04-19T14:03:00.001-07:002020-04-19T14:14:47.491-07:00Purpose in Pandemic<span style="font-family: inherit;">There aren't great words in the midst of a pandemic.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Sometimes you want magical words to fix things.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">To provide certainty in the midst of absolute uncertainty.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">To assure you that there will be enough jobs, enough money, enough time to figure out the next steps. That there will be full healing and restoration. That life will go back to how it used to be.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">These are imagined promises that might never be fulfilled. Perhaps they're never meant to be. We get to figure out the reality of being okay in a new world. A post-pandemic world. If we even make it that far.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">This weekend, Kel and I joined the 22 million people who have filed for unemployment in the past month. The last 144 hours of our lives have been filled with grief, pain, anticipation, hope, gratitude, and a million other things in between. Our last day of work was Friday. I sent the following email to our staff and, rather than try to recreate it, I feel like it continues to sum up the cry of our hearts right now. So... here you go. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">_________________________________</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPHluqgLxwpEsE06Vz3MJPQ3T810UkJYHPTjk0pm6rn6rjbxCqaSnQMHVGC6-aPY4dx1nAncG16L5YVr3RA4bAIOzAvQ2ffDD_yJapnQKtSREPITq8IFramBAwjxrk3nA9pPqRHW59MsE/s1600/IMG_2787.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPHluqgLxwpEsE06Vz3MJPQ3T810UkJYHPTjk0pm6rn6rjbxCqaSnQMHVGC6-aPY4dx1nAncG16L5YVr3RA4bAIOzAvQ2ffDD_yJapnQKtSREPITq8IFramBAwjxrk3nA9pPqRHW59MsE/s320/IMG_2787.jpeg" width="240" /></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">I was putting Baby K (our foster baby of almost 8 months) to bed the other night, processing through the weeks' events. Through the tears, I looked into the bright blue eyes of this miraculous gift and found myself choking out the words of the catechisms we sing to her often. </span><br />
<div style="background-color: white; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div>
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.25px;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<b><i>How and why did God create us? </i></b></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">There was a purpose statement in the question that seemed meant for me in the moment. </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">Debbie- why were you created? </i></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">My heart ran through the list of possible answers: </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">To be heard?</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">To be known? </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">To be valued? </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">To be right? </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">To be wanted? </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">To work at camp? </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">To be a wife? A mom? </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">To be healthy? Safe? </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">To live in the mountains? </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">To be comfortable? </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Quickly, the catechism responded: </span></div>
<div>
<b style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.25px;"><i>God created us male and female in his own image <u>to know him, love him, live with him, and glorify him. And it is right that we who were created by God should live to his glory.</u></i></b></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Too easily I forget the purpose for which I was created. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">In a broken world, with a broken heart, and the uncertainty of what will unfold next... we tend to think we were created for something other than which we were. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The false narrative causes us to worry, to fear, to believe lies about our worth and our value. It causes us to think that </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">this</i><span style="font-family: inherit;"> is all that matters. </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">This </i><span style="font-family: inherit;">present circumstance before us-- it's all-consuming. Our normals have been wrecked by a pandemic, causing us to lose jobs, communities, neighbors, camp, a way of life... causing us to worry about our health, our families, our finances, our futures... </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">But here we can remember the purpose for which we were created. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">To know Him.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.25px;">To love Him.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.25px;">To live with Him. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.25px;">To </span><i style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.25px;">glorify Him</i><span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.25px;">. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.25px;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.25px;">Through anything, in anything... </span><i style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.25px;">because</i><span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.25px;"> of who God is and what He has done. </span><i style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.25px;">Immanuel... God with us. </i></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.25px;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.25px;">I don't know what category you stand in today... worried, broken-hearted, angry, confused, lonely, wanting to run, scared, wishing away our realities, relieved... </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.25px;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.25px;">But I do know one thing.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.25px;">We are people created with purpose.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.25px;">Don't forget that.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.25px;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.25px;">Even in the hardest, most unimaginable circumstances.... even when our April, normally brimming with campers and the crazy anticipation of summer staff arriving, is now filled with good-byes and unknowns and closed gates...</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.25px;">Our purpose remains the same.</span></div>
<div>
<i style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.25px;"><b><br /></b></i></div>
<div>
<i style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.25px;"><b>How and why did God create us?</b></i></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.25px;">To glorify Him.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.25px;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.25px;">In </span><i style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.25px;">all </i><span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.25px;">things. All seasons. All circumstances. No.matter.what.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.25px;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.25px;">Let us declare it and live it loudly, courageously, and with steadfastness-- even if it's through tears and brokenness, even if we have to beg the Lord for the strength to do so. There is a beautiful simplicity about our purpose that surpasses our circumstances, that surpasses all time... and reminds us that we serve the King in whom there is victory over death, sin, and pain-- the King who is making </span><i style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.25px;">all things new</i><span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.25px;">. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.25px;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.25px;">Not to us, but to God be all glory and honor and praise. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.25px;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“Worthy are you, our Lord and God,</span><span style="line-height: 0;"> </span><br />
to receive glory and honor and power,<br />
for you created all things,<br />
<span style="line-height: 0;"> </span>and by your will they existed and were created.”<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">-</span><i style="font-family: inherit;"> Revelation 4:11</i><span style="font-family: inherit;">-</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">____________________________________________</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And He is <i>so </i>worthy. My little human mind can't even begin to really comprehend it. But I am humbled that He calls me daughter. Relieved that He takes care of His children. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">We don't know what is next. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And that's okay. At least today. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">More musings will come, as we will have ample time to process, to reflect, and to share. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
For a little while, we will remain in New Mexico as we figure out the adoption process with Baby K. And for the foreseeable future, we will wait. We will pray. We will trust. And we will seek to glorify the Lord however we can, in the midst of something only the Lord knew was coming.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
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debbealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03738810557777390429noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3237954847634331929.post-91204324076491818562020-01-01T14:46:00.001-08:002020-01-02T06:52:54.831-08:00Unpredictable EventsIf you would have told me a year ago that in 2019 my <a href="https://alwayssecondchances.blogspot.com/2019/01/brave.html">mom would break her hip</a>, that <a href="https://alwayssecondchances.blogspot.com/2019/02/wish-you-were-here.html">we'd work on a farm</a> in Costa Rica, that I'd have <a href="https://alwayssecondchances.blogspot.com/2019/03/all-in.html">a new job</a> in Human Resources, that we'd have 22 chickens and take in a stray kitten, that a <a href="https://alwayssecondchances.blogspot.com/2019/06/let-them-come-in.html">homeless woman would live with us</a>, that my 2-year-old niece would be diagnosed with Leukemia (and that <a href="https://alwayssecondchances.blogspot.com/2019/08/showing-up.html">I'd work remotely from California for over a month as a result</a>), that we'd be <a href="https://alwayssecondchances.blogspot.com/2019/09/a-whirlwind.html">given a newborn</a> to take care of for a third of the year, and that I'd finish my Master's degree...<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-bGCWR-Kot3u3Ph2Kb25ePhgvKc1j1E68U_M16IRtDXaldti19_QzaL_QxswlOo-PlxSGwlf60Elcsw5lahJ1t3XqxNHi9YVsXvbjmMM57o8w7oWJ5m6GTfhXkf8HAj0Ncb5Tv0-sYaQ/s1600/931C6475-1B74-4DF7-8000-06089B5FBA8C_1_201_a.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1320" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-bGCWR-Kot3u3Ph2Kb25ePhgvKc1j1E68U_M16IRtDXaldti19_QzaL_QxswlOo-PlxSGwlf60Elcsw5lahJ1t3XqxNHi9YVsXvbjmMM57o8w7oWJ5m6GTfhXkf8HAj0Ncb5Tv0-sYaQ/s320/931C6475-1B74-4DF7-8000-06089B5FBA8C_1_201_a.jpeg" width="264" /></a>I would have only partially believed you. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But here we are... entering 2020 with an entire year of unpredictable events behind us, unsure of what this next year might hold. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I've probably cried more in 2019 than I have in a while. </div>
<div>
I've definitely slept less. </div>
<div>
I've learned a lot. </div>
<div>
About God, but also about motherhood... and state laws, 401(k)s, health insurance, and leadership development.<br />
<br />
I've learned that, in general, I still like cats more than dogs, that collecting eggs can be a highlight of my day, that the chuckle of a baby's new laugh can bring irrational tears to my eyes.<br />
<br />
I've learned that I don't currently feel called to overseas' missions, that time spent and lived with family is indescribably valuable, and that I am the type of mom who, while perhaps unlikely, prefers to dress her baby girl up with bows and dresses. I've learned that breaking away from the grind of social media and the tendency to binge-watch television shows can be one of the most freeing things to commit oneself to... and that the time gained back can be spent in other, more life-giving ways. I've learned that admitting weakness is a necessary part of parenting and that I can't always juggle all the things- despite how much I try.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwhGt2vbjNUFelMj0h2XtzDBahwpB1EmlEn4t0iW4Y8XNFn_MsBq3ZjFJ3g7oPGdPSXpDAC-NZpyOO3XsFC0vMHsxx6IhTGqod6N7oQKxrMU_0DCP9Y70gFxyrjSDpQt66OMX0aWeoQ8U/s1600/A29C5A8A-F246-4C29-88D7-EA9618BA8A04_1_201_a.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwhGt2vbjNUFelMj0h2XtzDBahwpB1EmlEn4t0iW4Y8XNFn_MsBq3ZjFJ3g7oPGdPSXpDAC-NZpyOO3XsFC0vMHsxx6IhTGqod6N7oQKxrMU_0DCP9Y70gFxyrjSDpQt66OMX0aWeoQ8U/s320/A29C5A8A-F246-4C29-88D7-EA9618BA8A04_1_201_a.jpeg" width="240" /></a><br />
I've learned that the Triune God repeatedly shows up for His people... in His timing and in His way, of course...and that He is making Himself known through things that seem too hard, too heartbreaking, too confusing, too broken, too unjust, and even too good to be true.<br />
<br />
I might boldly declare that the Beals who existed on January 1, 2019 are now very different versions of ourselves on January 1, 2020. Perhaps better in some ways, perhaps worse in others. But, definitely different. Our eyes are a little more open, but also a little more weary.<br />
<br />
Our circumstances have changed significantly this year. Our day-to-day is entirely different. The potential of what-could-be raps on the doors of our hearts daily. We dream a lot. Our world is full of possibilities marred only slightly by the broken realities. We aspire to deeper. Better. Different. It's a steady mantra in our marriage. To grow, to learn, to love God more wholly and to learn to love others selflessly -- to <i>know </i>God and to know others more deeply. It takes time, which is something else we are learning how to manage in new ways.<br />
<br />
Baby K is still with us-- smiling often, finding her voice, rolling over (as of literally minutes ago), unwilling to sleep through the night. We love her a lot and while it seems quite plausible that this might become a forever-in-this-world arrangement, we know not what precarious events might unexpectedly alter the process. And so we love fiercely and hold the future loosely. 2020 may bring Baby K permanently into our home, but it also may take her away from it. (We covet any prayers the Spirit leads you to pray surrounding this situation!)<br />
<br />
Because I no longer have school filling up every ounce of my free time, I am considering the ways in which I might spend it (as if a full-time job and child-rearing isn't enough). Cooking or pie-making seems fun right now. Learning new things, without the intensity of writing papers and reading hundreds of pages each week. Learning new things that can bless others (because who doesn't love to eat?). Maybe I'll blog more. We'll see.<br />
<br />
All I know is that no year ever turns out how we think or hope it might.<br />
But, all I can ask for this year...all I can hope for... is that I know God a little more at the end of it, no matter what events unfold. That I would know Him and proclaim Him more faithfully, more boldly, more truthfully... whether or not we have a baby, or if I can lose ten pounds, or accomplish all I want to in my job, or if I feel known or cared for by humans on this earth...<br />
<br />
My goal and resolution is to press on to know the Lord, no matter what the future holds.<br />
<br />
May I look different as a result. </div>
<div>
<br />
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debbealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03738810557777390429noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3237954847634331929.post-43939797338991489872019-10-04T20:55:00.000-07:002019-10-05T07:22:19.094-07:00Amazing GraceI should be writing a paper, but instead I'm blogging. Typical.<br />
<br />
We've had Baby K for 5 weeks yesterday-- which means she's 6 weeks old today. Crazy. Time is flying. We have a heavier lump to carry around now. She's fattening up from 5 lbs 7oz (the day we got her) to right around 10 lbs now.<br />
<br />
She eats. She sleeps. She poops. She cries. She refuses to sleep when she's clearly exhausted. She stares at us with wide eyes and I can't help but wonder if she's actually looking at me or looking into a blurry abyss. She's really cute. I'm thankful for that, especially on her fussy afternoons.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiwT2DONYU_VZJWJSxC7KUNAjM92uv-vokVQzbaMH6XaJKF8rp8tIv3wOnxoW-Eo1PI9XeQwbc0EH8TDYMLLbDk6Y_u6ZsHdSewfy4FgNyL3wof6dspOD55B7N1mzgllnc4zU_LctKi6c/s1600/IMG_0749.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiwT2DONYU_VZJWJSxC7KUNAjM92uv-vokVQzbaMH6XaJKF8rp8tIv3wOnxoW-Eo1PI9XeQwbc0EH8TDYMLLbDk6Y_u6ZsHdSewfy4FgNyL3wof6dspOD55B7N1mzgllnc4zU_LctKi6c/s320/IMG_0749.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
We're tired.<br />
Our words are little sharper. Our patience a little less abounding. But, we're making it.<br />
I'd like to think if I had 9 months to prepare for a newborn joining our family that we would have a little more figured out by now. Like, what we'll do about childcare. Or our jobs. Or school. Or our social life (what's that?).<br />
<br />
It feels like a lot sometimes. But, lots of times, it just kind of feels normal. Why not get a stork-delivered baby dropped in your lap and just figure it all out on the fly? (If storks were real, I bet it would feel a lot like this).<br />
<br />
I get a lot of my steps inside now instead of on the walk to the office. My left arm is getting stronger as I'm figuring out how to be an ambidextrous baby-holder. It's insane how she can sleep for hours...and then cry for hours. The dietician at the WIC office told us this week that with babies, "...nothing is normal". Great.<br />
<br />
The other night I was walking, rocking, swaying, singing baby girl to sleep (anything that might work), and found myself digging up some old songs from the recesses of my mind (Waterdeep, anyone?). One of the oldies was straight from Isaiah 43:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
When you pass through the waters, I will be with you...<br />
And the waves, they will not overcome you. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Do not fear, for I have redeemed you.<br />
I have called you by name, you are Mine. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
For I am the Lord, your God<br />
For I am the Holy One of Israel<br />
Your savior </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Do not fear, for I have redeemed you...</blockquote>
It's one of those moments where the Lord quietly reminds me that this fussy baby isn't mine... but His. One of those moments where I'm tearing up in a dark room remembering the Lord's goodness, His faithfulness, and how He redeems even the darkest of nights. One of those moments where I remember my place in the grand scheme of all of this. I'm a steward of this life. <i>What an honor</i>. Will you pray that I remember that?<br />
<br />
Many days later, I'm shedding tears for a different reason. Maybe it's exhaustion. But mostly I'm so frustrated at my inability to be like Jesus. Impatient, quickly frustrated, accusatory...broken. I imagine all of you parents are laughing right now as we experience this depravity of the soul for the first time. You know this song.<br />
<br />
But man. How much I'm reminded that I need grace.<br />
I told my small group last night that I still have the tendency toward self-righteousness... but having Baby K reminds me just how sinful I can be. Oh, <i>amazing grace...how can it be</i>? Jesus is really, really good. To love me, to want me, to take me in... when I am such a fussy little baby. Isn't it ironic?<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgh2ff5g9ZVopyqOA6oRAeBL5iDY-u6huFTIu_fJ1nSnJDX6Z-9p_JJHzfSoG3JNUVuq9K6KMLSw6amJgENE9Wt1kRemOu8lMgzwGyORzMJIzZpn27rusX8U8ApYnzPNkozsj5KRhXsv0/s1600/IMG_0805.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgh2ff5g9ZVopyqOA6oRAeBL5iDY-u6huFTIu_fJ1nSnJDX6Z-9p_JJHzfSoG3JNUVuq9K6KMLSw6amJgENE9Wt1kRemOu8lMgzwGyORzMJIzZpn27rusX8U8ApYnzPNkozsj5KRhXsv0/s320/IMG_0805.JPG" width="240" /></a>Kel and I just celebrated our 5-year anniversary last weekend, too. We had, what I'm calling, an "Awkward Anniversary" gathering. We invited friends and family in... and asked them to challenge us with things they have seen in our marriage that need to be refined, to encourage us with things that embody Christ, to hold us accountable to our vows and the things we want to improve on, to pray for us. But mostly, to remind us that we can't do anything of that without first running to the Lord.<br />
<br />
How hard we try to be all the things we think we're supposed to be and all the things we want to be without first going to Him... as if we could muster up any of it on our own.<br />
<br />
Having a baby has been awesome (really, truly).<br />
Easy? No.<br />
As hard as I thought it would be? No.<br />
We love her a lot (probably a whole lot more than we are frustrated with her).<br />
<br />
Would you pray that every day we have her that we could be like Jesus to her?<br />
To extend grace upon grace, to love selflessly, to serve joyfully... even when she's a fussy little baby.<br />
Pray that we remember that our time with her might be so limited, to embrace the moments we have left, no matter how few they may be. If there were ever a time to live in the present, it is now... for we really do not know what tomorrow may bring. Pray that we would be stewards of this baby girl, and remember to Whom she truly belongs.<br />
<br />
Also...<br />
We have continually been blown away by the generosity of people during this season. <i>Strangers</i>, even. God takes care of our every possible need. <i>Amazing grace...how can it be?</i><br />
<br />
Thanks for loving us.<br />
<br />
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debbealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03738810557777390429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3237954847634331929.post-4687088892203795502019-09-03T19:23:00.000-07:002019-09-03T20:14:26.427-07:00A Whirlwind It's been a whirlwind.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Like a...get a text at 6:30 in the morning and come home with a week-old baby 8 hours later type of whirlwind. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It was last Thursday, and I was gearing up to leave on Saturday for another 3.5 week trip out to California to help with my brother's family. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I tapped Kel to wake him up. "Kel...". </div>
<div>
"I know, I know, it's time to get up." </div>
<div>
"No... listen to the text we just got." </div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">I am sorry to be texting you so early but we have a 10 month old child that we have been unable to find placement for- it is a boy, and we also have a newborn baby girl that will released from the hospital today. I was wondering if you all would be interested in placement of one of these babies?<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></i></blockquote>
Imagine our surprise to find out that we were actually officially licensed and certified foster parents in this way!<br />
<br />
I don't know if you can ever really prepare for this type of moment and the things that you'll think, or the feelings that you'll have. My immediate reaction was that it felt impossible. We had <a href="https://alwayssecondchances.blogspot.com/2019/08/showing-up.html">committed to be there</a> for my family during my niece's leukemia treatments. How could we possibly take in a foster child? Truthfully, it had been so long since we had heard anything, I had personally taken it off the table as a possibility. It was starting to feel like we were weren't ever "supposed" to have kids.<br />
<br />
But here we were - faced with some choices.<br />
So we (...I mean I...) freaked out. We prayed. And then we went to work.<br />
<br />
We felt like we needed to see if we could make it work out, so we told the placement worker we were interested in the newborn and that we were going to try to adjust some stuff (since Kel was also supposed to be traveling the following week).<br />
<br />
My family was the most gracious and excited. When I called my sister-in-law to see what she thought, she reminded me that Berit's treatment had been deescalated to standard risk instead of very high risk, and it felt like the Lord's timing that we had just received that news a few days prior this unexpected text. They weren't even sure they would need someone there full-time.<br />
<br />
So we kept moving forward.<br />
Text after text, a knot growing in the pit of my stomach-- angsty about the unknowns and the possibilities.<br />
<br />
We drove into town that afternoon to pick up a few baby things from the county that they were able to provide us (a bassinet, a boppy, some size 1 diapers...). We ate lunch at Chick-Fil-A. We drove to Target, to get a car seat... and some newborn diapers, wipes, a cat litter box (the essentials). We waited in Target, cart packed and ready to check-out... waiting for the text that told us that it was time to pick her up (and IF it was time to pick her up-- it was only 98% likely to happen).<br />
<br />
We got the text.<br />
We checked out.<br />
We struggled through putting the car seat in correctly in the Target parking lot (which took far longer than we anticipated).<br />
<br />
She was a lot smaller than I could have ever imagined: 5 lbs 7 oz - no idea how long. Healthy. Helpless. Ours... at least for a little while.<br />
<br />
Before we knew it, we were driving home with the tiniest of humans on board.<br />
<br />
We have had five nights with Baby K.<br />
We've learned about diapers and Butt Paste.<br />
We've learned how to stick tiny appendages through tiny sleeves.<br />
We've learned about sleepless nights and constant worry that we've probably done something wrong.<br />
We've learned about laundry needing to be done every single day.<br />
<br />
We've learned that we are surrounded by family and friends who are generous, kind, and <i>so</i> willing to help us out during this crazy time. Within hours, we had baby girl clothes on our counter, baby swings in our living room, swaddles in our arms. We were given baby bathtubs, burp cloths, nose suckers, tiny gloves and socks, bottles. A meal train was set-up for us and we have eaten like royalty without having to prepare a thing. We have been so, so humbled by our community.<br />
<br />
Kel's parents made a last minute Labor Day weekend trip to meet Baby K. Lee Lee taught us how to keep her clean. B worked hard on our chicken coop (because yes, chickens...). They held this new baby like she was their own granddaughter, loving her as such until she is not.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqgBuoW3mAIOGQ1vJhYqQ6-iU1T-RIjKin1qSohMMXU3DEUszvMQceQbCVLa23GqsQAd7bjF7fuEoGZFbpIzJjNpeCXxvvcbN-oJFnoU1Bbz5HuS4HRdDmU_QMxdb5x3p0ZIMwjHWu8HQ/s1600/IMG_3198.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqgBuoW3mAIOGQ1vJhYqQ6-iU1T-RIjKin1qSohMMXU3DEUszvMQceQbCVLa23GqsQAd7bjF7fuEoGZFbpIzJjNpeCXxvvcbN-oJFnoU1Bbz5HuS4HRdDmU_QMxdb5x3p0ZIMwjHWu8HQ/s320/IMG_3198.jpeg" width="240" /></a>We have talked and FaceTimed with my family often. Sweet Berit loves to see Baby K, encouraging her use of the binky. We have heard from countless friends who are excited and supporting us in this endeavor, whatever it may bring. <br />
<br />
What a beautiful picture of the Gospel.<br />
A beautiful picture of giving and sharing with one another when they are need.<br />
<br />
We literally had nothing prepared for an infant.<br />
Now, I can barely think of anything else we could need.<br />
<br />
We don't know what the future holds for us and Baby K-- or how long we might have her. But we know that we love her a lot and are thankful for the time that we do get with her. Pray that we would be good stewards of this little one that has been entrusted to us during this season. That we would love her well, that we would keep her safe, that her future would be one filled with hope and joy.<br />
<br />
Pray also for Kel and I as we figure out the balance between newborn life, full-time jobs, and both of us being in school (not to mention tending of the Beal farm). Pray that we would trust the Lord in His timing, in His ways, and in His goodness.<br />
<br />
It's been a whirlwind... but the best kind of whirlwind.<br />
<br />
(Also- this is NO surprise, but my husband makes the best daddy).<br />
<br />
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</style>debbealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03738810557777390429noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3237954847634331929.post-17171881081503067872019-08-11T14:58:00.000-07:002019-08-11T15:05:13.112-07:00Showing Up<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgob9oP13wGAIh051_dtOuliFznxEFXWWoo7pYi2iQXEKGETNpSa3-cXMoRcgikzUjlCZ9RPlEC_BnPHkbrwxFe_bFA1-6xCk4hMFqr41KYY_quwdDzHBmhmL9WqsgR8UromZ6-KH_hiG4/s1600/IMG_0075.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgob9oP13wGAIh051_dtOuliFznxEFXWWoo7pYi2iQXEKGETNpSa3-cXMoRcgikzUjlCZ9RPlEC_BnPHkbrwxFe_bFA1-6xCk4hMFqr41KYY_quwdDzHBmhmL9WqsgR8UromZ6-KH_hiG4/s400/IMG_0075.jpeg" width="300" /></a>I've been living in Cupertino, California for the last 4 weeks.<br />
Because life never turns out the way you think it will.<br />
<br />
If you had told me a year ago that Kel and I would have legitimately contemplated moving to Costa Rica, that I would be working a job in Human Resources, and that my two-year-old niece would be diagnosed with leukemia... I probably wouldn't have believed you.<br />
<br />
But, here we are. Another year under our belt and a whole new set of challenges before us.<br />
<br />
The last several months have felt like a "stripping down". A getting rid of the excess. Of having to set aside the things that just don't matter as much. A necessary living out of Colossians 3 (and if you've talked to me in the last few months, I may have already told how this passage has been rocking my world). <i>Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth</i>.<br />
<br />
It all started when our full-time staff was encouraged to fast for 40 days from something as we prayed through some organizational changes. Because of some of the books I had been assigned to read from seminary, I was readily aware of how social media was impacting me in negative ways and so I chose to give it up for a while.<br />
<br />
This was the beginning of learning more tangibly what it means to show up.<br />
It meant that I was no longer on my phone swiping or scrolling to see what was going on in someone else's life halfway across the country that I hadn't talked to in a decade. Instead, I was present with the people physically in front of me. Instead of only taking pictures because of how "post-worthy" they might be, I was taking them for my own personal enjoyment or to send to one or two people. Instead of being on my phone because there was nothing else to do, I was showing up in my own thoughts, forcing myself to deal with the silence. Instead of judging a neighbor because of something they said or posted on social media, I learned how to love them in person because I have to take the time to <i>actually</i> know them and not just assume that I already do.<br />
<br />
While the 40 days passed months ago, I am still an infrequent visitor to any social media platform. The changes that giving up the habit have caused in my life have been so rewarding, it is hard to imagine going back.<br />
<br />
Not too long after, I felt that there was something else I needed to give up that I had been avoiding for a long time. Every time the thought surfaced, I didn't want to acknowledge the harm it was causing in my life and I justified its existence. The truth is, I think that sometimes our habits turn into addictions and oftentimes, these addictions become so acceptable in society. My addiction? Binge-watching TV shows. In a lot of ways, it felt like my reward after a long week of school and work. I justified hours of episode after episode because it wasn't my "norm". It was a way to disengage with my reality. A way to calm my restless mind from thinking about all the things going on, without actually dealing with those things.<br />
<br />
I had felt this prodding before-- the demand to give it up. And, every time, I had talked myself out of it. It felt too hard. Which, I know, sounds silly. Mostly I just didn't want to. But I knew that sometimes I was anxious to get home from somewhere so I could escape into an alternative universe for an hour or two before bed. I knew that sometimes it could too easily become a way for Kel and I to co-exist, without actually engaging in conversation with one another. I knew sometimes that I was avoiding time (or drastically reducing) with the Lord because the weekend only has a limited number of hours in it and, if I'm being honest, Netflix got far more of those hours than Jesus ever did.<br />
<br />
So, I quit. Because I wanted to be different than that. I wanted to show up for people. I wanted to show up for Jesus, for my husband, for the people in my life. I didn't want to leave early because I <i>really</i> wanted to watch something. In fact, my priorities were all wrong. <i>Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth</i>. The verse continually pounds into my brain. <i>Put on compassionate, kind, humble, meek, patient hearts. Forgive, put on love. Let the Word of Christ dwell in you richly... </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Cold turkey, I stopped watching TV shows, right in the middle of a season.<br />
Because suddenly, they didn't matter. I didn't want to look back and consider the hours and hours (and days and weeks) that I had spent thinking about and caring about fictional characters' lives. I wanted to care about the <i>real</i> lives of the <i>real</i> people around me. To care about <i>real</i> souls. To show up.<br />
<br />
I went most of the summer without watching TV, and have yet to enter back into a place where I feel like I should (or want to) watch shows on my personal device, alone.<br />
<br />
The craziest part about all of it was that I never really missed it.<br />
I had gained back time. And space. And conversation. And probably some sleep.<br />
<br />
I was learning how to show up again with Jesus. The quiet space, where I might normally have thrown on a show while I cooked, or cleaned the house, forced me to be more present with where I was really at, and what I was really going through. I pray more. Listen to music more. Exist in silence more. I tended to the new plants, the chickens, the dogs, the cat.<br />
<br />
I show up more.<br />
For the Lord, for others, for myself.<br />
<br />
Don't misunderstand: I'm not saying that social media or TV shows are bad or wrong. I know there are so many benefits for social media and the connectivity we have through it. I know that I have missed big life events of people I legitimately care about because I am not perusing these platforms daily (text me, if that's you!). I just know that right now, in this season, being more removed from it allows me to be more fully present with those I am physically with. And, I have not been legalistic about television shows and also believe this can be a communal, fun, enjoyable thing to do with others. What I am actively staying away from currently is the binge-watching, by myself activity that can become entirely too addicting for me as I get carried away in a new storyline and new characters.<br />
<br />
Not long after all of these decisions were made, we found out that <a href="https://www.gofundme.com/f/vq7ncb-berit">my 2-year-old niece, Berit, has leukemia</a>. After a lot of conversation and prayer, Kel and I felt like I should come to California to help my brother and sister-in-law out while they navigate living in a completely new area (they just moved from Florida a few weeks ago) and figuring out what treatment will look like for Berit. They need someone to watch Alta, their 4-year-old, while they are at the hospital a few times each week, and while my brother gets his new job figured out.<br />
<br />
My new HR job allows me to work remotely and camp has been so, so incredibly gracious in allowing me to do so. In a lot ways, the saddest parts to me about coming to CA for an extended period of time was not being able to see how all of my time with the plants and the chickens would pan out. And not getting to see Archie, our new kitten, grow into a cat. And, once again, the verses pounded within: <i>Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth</i>.<br />
<br />
<i>Show up for <u><b>people</b></u></i>.<br />
In even the silliest ways, I had shifted my TV-watching addictions into a more "fruitful" activity-- watching and tending to things as they grow. But, even this, I was reminded, <i>doesn't really matter</i>. It doesn't have eternal significance.<br />
<br />
So I left on July 13 for California.<br />
I will get to see my husband again on August 13- it's the longest we have been a part. At this juncture, I am planning to be in California for most of the fall, minus 5.5 weeks total (where I'll be back at camp and with my husband!).<br />
<br />
At every turn, I'm learning more about what it means to show up.<br />
Learning more about what it means to be stripped of the things that don't matter, and to consider how I let the things that <i>do</i> matter become a priority. <i>Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth</i>. It's like the Lord is saying:<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Show up, Debbie.<br />
Show up, in even the littlest ways.<br />
Show up for people.<br />
Show up for Me.<br />
Press into the hard things.<br />
Seek Me, and find Me.<br />
Don't forsake your <i>True</i> <i>Love</i>.<br />
Don't let the opinions of others matter, it is I whom you should please. </blockquote>
<br />
Will I give up <i>all </i>things for the sake of knowing Christ?<br />
<br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span class="text Phil-3-7" id="en-ESV-29412" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box;">But <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-ESV-29412R" data-link="(<a href="#cen-ESV-29412R" title="See cross-reference R">R</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>whatever gain I had, <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-ESV-29412S" data-link="(<a href="#cen-ESV-29412S" title="See cross-reference S">S</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>I counted as loss for the sake of Christ.<b> </b></span><span class="text Phil-3-8" id="en-ESV-29413" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box;">Indeed, I count everything as loss because of <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-ESV-29413T" data-link="(<a href="#cen-ESV-29413T" title="See cross-reference T">T</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>the surpassing worth of <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-ESV-29413U" data-link="(<a href="#cen-ESV-29413U" title="See cross-reference U">U</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-ESV-29413V" data-link="(<a href="#cen-ESV-29413V" title="See cross-reference V">V</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ. </span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span class="text Phil-3-8" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box;">- Philippians 3:7-8-</span></i></span></div>
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I have so much yet to learn... </div>
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But I know that taking steps towards the abandoning of <i>anything </i>that gets in the way of Christ (even the things that can seem good), teaches me more about His goodness, His love, and the indescribable ways that the Triune God shows up for us. </div>
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(Also- I can't even begin to describe the joy it has been to be a regular part of my nieces' lives, as well as getting to spend ample time with my brother and sister-in-law. It's like God knows the things our souls actually need, or something...). </div>
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<br />debbealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03738810557777390429noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3237954847634331929.post-45212128307164002342019-06-03T20:01:00.001-07:002019-06-03T20:01:32.208-07:00Let Them Come InI met her about a year ago.<br />
<br />
We were serving together at a homeless shelter. As we talked, I began to piece together that her and I were pretty different. She wasn't just coming to serve because it seemed like the right thing to do. This place, in fact, was her current home. She was serving her friends and her roommates, some that she interacted with on a daily basis. I was serving strangers that I might see once a month, if I made the time for it.<br />
<br />
I saw her at church a few times after that.<br />
I tried to make it a point to talk to her each time.<br />
When it was time for our church to serve again at the homeless shelter, she apologetically told me that she wasn't going to help serve because last time she hadn't gotten a chance to eat.<br />
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Months went by without seeing her. I would often wonder where she was and how she was doing.<br />
<br />
But then, in January, she came back to church. I began talking to her before the service started, but we were quickly interrupted by the music beginning. I found my way to my husband, with a ludicrous thought bubbling up from within. <i>Kel</i>, I whispered. <i>I think we need to invite her to live with us</i>. He graciously nodded his approval and the second the benediction ended, I scurried over to her. I hadn't thought through much about what words were coming out of my mouth or how I ought to say them, but I found myself asking questions and eventually inviting this woman into our home.<br />
<br />
I never saw her again.<br />
We went to Costa Rica, came back, got busy with work and school, went to church, served at the homeless shelter...and she wasn't anywhere.<br />
<br />
On May 5th, she reappeared at church. We pulled up into the parking lot and saw her immediately. We hugged and throughout the course of the morning (before and after the service), we had ample time to talk. She was still at the homeless shelter, still not able to find a job... but she was interested in coming out to our community group on Monday nights. I told her she could stay the night afterward, if she needed a place. We drew her a map and wondered if we'd see her again.<br />
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On May 6th, she appeared at our house.<br />
On May 29th, she left.<br />
<br />
There's been a vacancy since she left that I'm not quite sure how to describe.<br />
I learned a lot in those 3+ weeks of having a stranger live in our home.<br />
I learned a lot about generosity. Not just with our <i>things</i> or our money... but with my time. With my ears. With my space. I learned that maybe those things aren't really <i>mine</i> at all.<br />
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I learned that I can't control outcomes, or people, or that maybe what <i>I</i> think is best is not actually was is best. I learned about letting go, about trusting, about simply not knowing.<br />
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I learned that sometimes when I think I'm the one who is supposed to be giving or offering...that maybe I'm supposed to be receiving. That maybe the Lord wanted me to learn from her much more than He wanted her to learn from me. I learned the beauty of listening, of paying attention, of being present...even when I had a million other things that I would have rather been doing.<br />
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It's been a lesson on getting over self.<br />
Of recognizing pride.<br />
Of walking faithfully, even when I don't know what that actually accomplishes.<br />
Of opening our home, even when we don't know the outcome (or even the person).<br />
Of redefining "ours" and "mine"... and learning how to replace those pronouns with "His".<br />
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I don't know who the Lord might bring into our lives next, but I do know that I am more convinced than ever that my job is to let them come in. Into "our" home, into "our" space and allow them to take up "our" time, and eat "our" food and use "our" things. To let them come into our <i>lives</i>. And to do what we can to love them, no matter how long or how short that season may be.<br />
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In a world that is pressing more than ever for us to take care of "our"selves, I'm quite convinced that Biblically we are called to do quite the opposite. To consider others as better than ourselves (Phil 2), to outdo one another in showing honor (Romans 12), to bandage up wounds and to take care of others--<i>even</i> those whom we might despise, or might be completely opposite of us (Luke 10).<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHvSXZ38djmcP11K42prf2qBFuP96xq8zv16zqhG6VEABUaa2Eactunvr9ZJXwfmTgSDrGCnEzSCnMBjP773kjrhZXPpIe6Mzll1KoEqK31-qh3qEVeAXKtdoA_qjQ3m_2dz900Ny80nY/s1600/IMG_9508.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHvSXZ38djmcP11K42prf2qBFuP96xq8zv16zqhG6VEABUaa2Eactunvr9ZJXwfmTgSDrGCnEzSCnMBjP773kjrhZXPpIe6Mzll1KoEqK31-qh3qEVeAXKtdoA_qjQ3m_2dz900Ny80nY/s320/IMG_9508.jpeg" width="320" /></a>I don't know where my new friend will go or if I will ever see her or hear from her again. I don't know if her short stay in our home did anything positive for her or made any sort of lasting impact in her life.<br />
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But I do know that it has affected me.<br />
And I think God is ironic in that way. Reminding me that I know so little and have so much to learn. Reminding me that <i>He</i> is King of my <i>whole</i> life, not just some aspects of it. Reminding me that He is God...and that He brings about growth and change in His timing and in His way.<br />
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"Our" home feels more open now. Less like it's mine to control or protect. More like it's His to bring in whomever He will, for however long He will.<br />
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And it's hard.<br />
And sad.<br />
And heartbreaking.<br />
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But it's good. Worth it.<br />
A reminder that this life is meant to be lived not for <i>my</i> glory or <i>my </i>benefit... but for His.<br />
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<br />debbealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03738810557777390429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3237954847634331929.post-25744192923409029902019-03-24T20:00:00.000-07:002019-03-24T20:11:07.577-07:00Why Me? <i>Why me? </i><br />
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It's a question I have asked a lot in my life.<br />
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Sometimes, the question is in response to the hard things.<br />
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Sometimes, the question beckons a different type of answer. Too many times in my life, I have felt like I needed to know the answer because the answer held the secret to all my security.<br />
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<i>Why do you like me</i>?<br />
The voice of a 4th grade Debbie asks her admirer.<br />
The answer speaks value to my little blonde self. Because I'm pretty. Or smart. Or fun. These become the critical components of likability. These are the answers I need to know...because I need to know how to do more/be more of these characteristics so more people will like me.<br />
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<i>Why do you want to date me</i>?<br />
This is the voice of high school Debbie. I know now that puberty has changed me and looks only go so far. Because you love the Lord. Because you're the type of girl I would want to marry. Because you have faith. My legalistic heart checks these off the list. Do more things like this, and more people will like you.<br />
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<i>Why me? </i><br />
It's a question I have asked a lot in my life. Sometimes audibly. Sometimes in the deepest places of my heart. It's a question that points to my insecurities, my fears, and my worries. It's a question that's hidden motive is more about wondering if I'm actually enough or how much the person in front of me <i>really</i> wants me.<br />
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I had the privilege of getting to stare at this painting in the chapel of Gordon-Conwell's Charlotte campus the other morning.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_9Sx1bhD7MAzd6koTsUCrWSVF1QJf_grjlIg-YVjzxM2OiQ4RptDJjRb2PwW0TcMYX6fGKVsou9wSTGnLgGpwhrF5hCjp2TEXIhAQo4Gv0F0Fz1zbLK6Xd-Q9Iu7qxYyJ9Bb9HY3JK1w/s1600/RFG+Fresco.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="737" data-original-width="940" height="500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_9Sx1bhD7MAzd6koTsUCrWSVF1QJf_grjlIg-YVjzxM2OiQ4RptDJjRb2PwW0TcMYX6fGKVsou9wSTGnLgGpwhrF5hCjp2TEXIhAQo4Gv0F0Fz1zbLK6Xd-Q9Iu7qxYyJ9Bb9HY3JK1w/s640/RFG+Fresco.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><em style="color: #362f23; font-family: ff-tisa-web-pro, ff-tisa-web-pro-1, ff-tisa-web-pro-2, serif; padding-bottom: 0px; text-align: start;">The Parable of the Sower</em><span style="color: #362f23; font-family: , , , serif; text-align: start;">, at Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary in Charlotte, North Carolina. Painted by artist Gerald Steinmeyer.</span></span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #362f23; font-family: , , , serif; font-size: 17px;"> </span></td></tr>
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As I stared, this haunted question of my past resurfaced again. </div>
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<i>Why me, Lord</i>? </div>
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Because as I gazed at everything going on in this painting-- the one thing that captivated me <i>most</i> about it is that Jesus is coming for me. Out of His world and into mine. Coming, because of a great love. The Greatest Love. </div>
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<i>Why do you love me</i>? </div>
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This is the pleading voice of 34-year-old Debbie who often seems to think she has life figured out. But sometimes, in the deepest places of her heart...she knows the truth. She knows that she is weak and broken. She knows that she is tired and desperate. She knows that she is not enough. </div>
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The answer to this question feels weighty.</div>
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But the answer to this question is also simple. </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Because I do</i>. </div>
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There's this part of my soul that wants the Lord to affirm <i>why</i> He loves me. To commend my faithfulness, my willingness, my obedience. To lift up my efforts to be a "good" Christian, to be one in which He is well-pleased. </div>
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But in the quiet moments of this chapel, the Lord reminds me that none of that actually matters. He loves me the same, no matter what I do or don't do. No matter what I look like or how I dress. Even when I say the wrong thing at the wrong time or when I play my part perfectly. I cannot earn it. </div>
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The Lord doesn't give me the answer I hope for, but His answer is better. It always is it. </div>
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It's an answer that simultaneously puts me in my place while also restoring my identity in Him. He will not give me the false praises and accolades that we so often seek from men. But He will remind me that He loves me because I am His. He will remind me that <i>that</i> is enough. </div>
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He has come for me. </div>
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I don't have to question it.</div>
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I don't have to even understand it. </div>
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He loves me. </div>
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I just get to live in the certainty of that. </div>
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The certainty of knowing that while I was a sinner, Jesus Christ came to save me. Through <i>nothing</i> that I have done, I am His. </div>
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It truly is <i>amazing grace</i>. </div>
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That saved a wretch like me... </div>
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debbealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03738810557777390429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3237954847634331929.post-40636343445920969762019-03-17T17:50:00.000-07:002019-03-17T17:50:06.585-07:00Saving FaceSome of the most ludicrous fights I have are with myself. <div>
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They are these crazy battles of the mind, where I want so desperately to be <i>right</i>, to be <i>justified</i>, to <i>defend my honor</i>. These are the pre-fights I often have when I am in conflict with someone else. The moment someone offends me, or accuses me, or bruises my ego.... I'm immediately in the throes of an inner battle. </div>
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I don't mean to, but it's where I automatically go. </div>
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I'm quickly trying to prove my point to myself, to rationalize my behavior, to make sure that my course of thought is logical. I think through the argument at every angle, certain that despite whichever vantage point you approach the situation from, you will find me in the <i>right</i>. </div>
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The situation could be with my husband, or with a co-worker, sibling, friend, or someone I barely know. But before I can have the conversation with them, I need to rationalize my position internally first. </div>
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<i>Save Face, Debbie</i>. </div>
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My inner pride goads me on. It cheers for me to win, to keep up the appearance of happy, good, intelligent, logical, able to juggle a million things without dropping one ball... dare I say... perfection?</div>
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Last night, I was in the middle of one of these internal battles. I had just received an email that caused me to feel slightly wronged and very much entitled. My mind, within seconds, had already collected a list of the reasons why I was in the right and why I also was deserving. I was ready to go to bat in my defense. </div>
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But something slowed me. </div>
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<i>What if you're wrong, Debbie? </i> </div>
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It's a baffling thought, I know. Me... wrong? </div>
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The thought kept prodding at me. And so I did my usual subconscious pre-work-- proving my point to myself, considering the situation from other perspectives, seeking to use logical discourse to make sure I wasn't too emotionally charged. </div>
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I was in the clear. All good. I felt reasonably sound in my defense.</div>
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But the thought came again, only this time it felt different. </div>
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<i>You don't have to anything to prove</i>. </div>
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But... I do, I argued back. I have to prove that I am right. I have to prove that I deserve this. I have to prove that I didn't screw up. </div>
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These are the moments that the internal arguments feel the most insane. These are the wars that are waged between flesh and spirit, sometimes over the most minute things. Sometimes these moments feel like the truest pulses of our humanity clashing with this newness that the Lord is longing to cloak us in. </div>
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In some ways, I felt like I was finger jousting with someone-- pointing away from myself and doing everything I can to make sure my finger doesn't get turned around to point the blame back at me. But I'm not always strong enough--sometimes it feels like my opponent is winning, and other times I gain my strength and momentum for another burst of energy. It's a back and forth until one of us concedes. </div>
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But, then I realize that this exactly what the Lord is asking me to do-- to point my finger at myself, to concede. To stop fighting to prove how <i>right</i> I am, and consider how <i>wrong</i> I might actually be. Wrong and defenseless, instead of right and defensive. </div>
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It's a call to forget saving face, and consider my own need to be saved by grace. </div>
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A reminder that I <i>need</i> the Lord and my response ought not to so quickly be about keeping up appearances and defending my "honor". It's a call to surrender. To let go. To give up. To take the blame. To look at the log in my own eye, instead of the self-righteous tendency to examine the speck in another's. </div>
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It's a call to be reminded of the Gospel. </div>
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That literally <i>all the time</i> I need to remember who God is and what He has done. That's something I get to stand in awe of instead of so desperately trying to prove who <i>I </i>am and what <i>I</i> have done. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpdltM0I0l7Kg5UrIKeey-OUPIVTPdLnMQlPYaEgckjBnCcDU4QyFk-YNRgO_ojKZ1PlfBfQUZgtVk0ecWCBbuQsO4LIfSgxAO5xx_n6Hkze3eIUVjKH-KQ2hFeoVDqbt7FNomk1WGhsE/s1600/IMG_9021.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="922" data-original-width="1600" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpdltM0I0l7Kg5UrIKeey-OUPIVTPdLnMQlPYaEgckjBnCcDU4QyFk-YNRgO_ojKZ1PlfBfQUZgtVk0ecWCBbuQsO4LIfSgxAO5xx_n6Hkze3eIUVjKH-KQ2hFeoVDqbt7FNomk1WGhsE/s400/IMG_9021.jpeg" width="400" /></a>It's a shift of perspective. </div>
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A necessary moment that forces me to take my eyes off of <i>me. </i></div>
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<i>This too shall pass</i>. </div>
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There is this undeserved promise for me that is always waiting for me as I am urged to look at the Promise Giver, as I am urged to let go of the petty entitlement that I too easily cling to. </div>
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There's a freedom that is found when I surrender the jousting. The struggle stops. The conceding brings an internal peace. </div>
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The shift in my gaze changes <i>everything</i>. </div>
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Suddenly the fight seems ludicrous and I am ashamed to admit the passion in which fought so hard for something so fleeting. </div>
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There's something bigger at hand. There is Someone bigger wanting our attention. </div>
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I'm learning.</div>
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Every day.... still learning. </div>
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<i>May He become greater, and I become less. </i></div>
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debbealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03738810557777390429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3237954847634331929.post-39222091491231688622019-03-11T13:58:00.000-07:002019-03-11T14:58:37.656-07:00All In <span style="font-family: inherit;">There are certainly seasons of life where the DFW airport feels a bit like home. In and out. Stay for a meal or two.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I'm currently on my way to North Carolina for 10 days. Attending some classes for (hopefully) the last time. While sitting in class all day certainly isn't cause for giddy excitement, I am always thankful for the opportunity. To learn. And to be reminded that there are countless individuals across the country who are like-minded in their desire to see God's Kingdom grow.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I read something the other day that felt profound. <span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">“[Christian worship] marks us out as and trains us to be a peculiar people who are citizens of another city and subjects of a coming King” (<i>Desiring the Kingdom</i>, James K.A. Smith). </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Peculiar people. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">Citizens of another city.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">Subjects of a coming King. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">I love that. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">I love being reminded of that as I sit in trendy DFW wearing would-be joggers, tennis shoes and sport<span style="font-family: inherit;">ing my frizzy hair and make-up-less face. Peculiar. A citizen of a city that is not in <i>this </i>country. A servant to the <i>King</i>. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">What a relief. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Life has been a bit of a whirlwind lately. We got back from Costa Rica and tried to catch up on all that we had missed. In some ways, leaving the farm feels like it happened years ago.</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWMVCHkBKkAzqcrresAVQv8bMYE-m09BQfchNkJDj3Paj8UwmIdbnT3Z5T5beav967Wa0cUNkHyb92Mq9duLR-RlZN4_dksPkGB-NelgDUIfmOfagwI6n6i_JoY8U7mw7QbbWEQXRFzoc/s1600/IMG_8248.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></a><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Just a few days after our return we bought 12 chicks. And I took a new job (at camp). I actually start tomorrow-- while I'm in class. It's pretty fitting for my life.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">When we realized Costa Rica wasn't for us, I felt like I had to do some deep soul-searching. A part of me was hoping that we would go and realize that this was our calling. Most of me knew that wasn't going to be our reality. But, when our answer was a clear <i>no</i>, that left me wondering: <i>what does that mean for me</i>? It had been 6 months of not really knowing where I belonged and I was beginning to question what I was even good at.<i> What could I possibly have to offer</i>?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">These are the lies we believe in some of the darkest of nights.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">These are the words that too quickly become our reality.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">In just a moment, the thief steals, kills, and destroys. And we let him.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I'm ashamed to admit that I spent too much of my 3.5 weeks in Costa Rica halfheartedly battling the attacks. I felt like the things I was most passionate about were the very things that I believed I was worst at. Insecurity rose in my throat often, fear gripped the corners of my eyes. Tears threatened my conversations and I found myself retreating to a place that is all too familiar. A place of self-sabotage. It's easier to believe that I can't do anything than to believe that I might be able to and then fail.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Today I am reminded that any talent I have been given isn't <i>mine</i> to hoard or to waste. It isn't mine to determine where, or when, or how it ought to be used. It is only mine to steward wisely, to hold loosely, and to trust freely. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">We started the New Year off with a Dunk Tank.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It was a symbolic gesture to communicate that we were <i>all in. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Willing to take a plunge into unknown territory, to devote ourselves to the leading and teaching and training up of our staff to being disciples of Jesus Christ. Willing to do something crazy (and potentially stupid, since it was dead winter and the water sure wasn't warm). Willing to do something with others who aren't afraid to take the same risks.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">These are just a few reasons that I have loved working at camp. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And so, as I step into new role, I'm <i>all in</i>. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">All in, despite my fears of failure or inadequacy... I'm reminded over and over again that I am a part of a ministry that <b>proclaims</b><i style="font-weight: bold;"> </i>the Gospel of Jesus Christ. In this, there doesn't need to be fear, or worry, or failure. There only needs to be the constant reminder to lean into Jesus. To trust Him in all my brokenness, that <b>He</b> is sufficient. That He is the the King whom I serve with delight. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I get to live <i>all in</i> because of what He has done. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">May I not forget it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">May I be the most peculiar of the people, a citizen of a world that is <i>not</i> the one in which I physically dwell, a subject of The King<i>. </i>And may the way we live radically transform the world in which we<i> do</i> reside. May we bring hope. And joy. And peace. And light.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">May we be <i>all in</i>.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">No matter where we are, or what we do... because of what He has done for us. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Because, <i>together</i>, we serve The King.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="text Rev-7-9" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box;"><br /></span></span>
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="text Rev-7-9" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box;">After this I looked, and behold, <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-ESV-30804H" data-link="(<a href="#cen-ESV-30804H" title="See cross-reference H">H</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>a great multitude that no one could number, <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-ESV-30804I" data-link="(<a href="#cen-ESV-30804I" title="See cross-reference I">I</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-ESV-30804J" data-link="(<a href="#cen-ESV-30804J" title="See cross-reference J">J</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>clothed in white robes, with <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-ESV-30804K" data-link="(<a href="#cen-ESV-30804K" title="See cross-reference K">K</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>palm branches in their hands,</span><span style="background-color: white;"> </span><span class="text Rev-7-10" id="en-ESV-30805" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box;">and crying out with a loud voice, <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-ESV-30805L" data-link="(<a href="#cen-ESV-30805L" title="See cross-reference L">L</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>“Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!”</span> </span> </i></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">--Revelation 7:9-10--</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 12pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>debbealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03738810557777390429noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3237954847634331929.post-31578758956608893902019-02-10T14:32:00.000-08:002019-02-10T15:01:06.748-08:00Rough Around the EdgesKel said the other day... "If I were writing a blog about Costa Rica I would title it: When I was called Cal, the Man, Cow, Kyel, and sometimes Kel for three weeks".<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Poling" Across the River</td></tr>
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Apparently "Kel" is a <i>really </i>hard name to say in the Spanish language. And sometimes even in the English language. </div>
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It's been a week. </div>
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A week where I can be perfectly content and at peace with my surroundings and circumstances and then ten minutes later be looking up what it would cost to change our flight to come home earlier. I'm ashamed by my lack of patience and the amount of pride I can have (sometimes over the smallest things). I'm ashamed by how selfish I can be. </div>
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We came here to know if moving here was our calling. But we also came to serve. And we have definitely done that, but perhaps not in the ways I would have imagined. Our interaction with locals has been limited and our service has been primarily in farm work. We have also helped organize and assemble Bible lessons for children in schools along the river. And, after "poling" across the river on Thursday, we were able to go to a school and be a part of one of these hour-long programs.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the School</td></tr>
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I am convinced that the work being done here matters. The woman (who is close to 80) we are working with has been sharing the Gospel with the people who live along the river for the last 27 years. Churches exist because of her willingness to <i>go</i>. And these schools invite her to come and share. To sing songs that might stick with them for a lifetime. To teach them about the Bible through story and craft. It's actually really incredible. I wish that we were more geared toward young children or farming, but our strengths and passions are not the things that are needed here. </div>
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And, as with probably many mission opportunities, this life is hard. It is without the comforts of running water, or air condition, or any kind of food you want whenever you want it. It is without recliners and televisions and a certain standard of cleanliness. It is without mirrors and bug spray (although those could easily be remedied). </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Toucans we see daily</td></tr>
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But- it's mostly hard because people can be hard to work with. They can be hard to understand. They can be hard to see eye-to-eye with. They can be hard to respect. They can be hard to talk to or listen to. They can be hard to not get frustrated with. They can be hard to trust. Granted, this is the challenge that is universal. It happens no matter where we go or what ministry we might find ourselves working in. People are different from us and they do things differently than us and, in that, we often find ourselves in conflict. </div>
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These are the moments where I believe the Lord is refining us. The moments where I have to beg that the Lord would give me patience...and that I would be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry. But there are also moments where I have to discern when (and how) to speak up. Moments where I have an opportunity, as the Spirit leads, to say something to someone that maybe no one else has been willing to. Moments that refine us because none of us are perfect and we all have blind spots. We <i>need each other </i>to grow in our weaknesses. But sometimes we're too quiet. Sometimes we're too scared. Sometimes we don't think it's our place. </div>
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I'm learning to appreciate being rough around the edges. Because, even though I can spot the flaws easily, there's something continually beautiful to me about being a work in progress. A work that <i>has</i> to point to God working through us because we are too imperfect for us to have done any of it without Him. It's a life that points to Jesus... because there's really no other explanation for the work that gets done. </div>
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I get to experience that in Costa Rica. But I also get to experience that in America. We <i>need</i> Jesus. No matter where we are. </div>
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I hate that I forget that sometimes. </div>
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Someday I'll write about the supposed murderer we were living next to, or the time our boat almost flipped, or all the other moments of crazy we have encountered. Someday, but not today. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunrise on the River!</td></tr>
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Today I'm thankful for new mercies every morning.</div>
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For a grace that covers me, even when I am the ugliest of humans in my heart. </div>
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For a bed to sleep in and plenty of food to eat.</div>
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For the hospitality and generosity of a woman who loves the Lord and is doing her best to give her life to Him. </div>
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For a husband who continually amazes me and is willing to count my 100 bug bites for me. </div>
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For new friends who patiently help me learn Spanish so we can communicate. </div>
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For all the new knowledge we have gained about life on the farm and along the river. </div>
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For internet that allows me to connect to family, friends, work, and school. </div>
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For funny little animals that we have gotten to take care of. </div>
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It's a good life.</div>
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A hard life. </div>
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But a life where God is moving and working. </div>
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debbealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03738810557777390429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3237954847634331929.post-46477867887063528522019-02-05T19:50:00.000-08:002019-02-05T19:50:16.248-08:00Wish You Were HereI wish you all could be here.<br />
<br />
I wish you all could experience the cockroach that's underneath our bed. Or the giant frog that comes out at night in the kitchen...but you only catch sight of him moving out of the corner of your eye and you're sure, instead of a frog, that there are snakes or roaches or alligators that are going to eat you. Or the thousands of chigger bites that you try to soothe with Vicks vapor rub or some homemade substance that smells of sulfur but you'll try just about anything at this point.<br />
<br />
I wish you could experience the dogs barking in the middle of the night, alerting you to a newly captured raccoon, or a wandering heifer that you'll have to herd back to its pasture while rubbing the sleepies out of your eyes.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8kiLugZ79w1eHwbJI6HVT_8f4m1mVK2YhyAjfZ8fTEkU29Tico1uGtCDTsAcHNw79q1ca0CJrJcnJ1qdYwKeUY2EkOBG0irc6hJ3xu3GNBKW6QD4KzZIym9OyLt6qgi9R9ldaQhIa-OE/s1600/IMG_8495.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8kiLugZ79w1eHwbJI6HVT_8f4m1mVK2YhyAjfZ8fTEkU29Tico1uGtCDTsAcHNw79q1ca0CJrJcnJ1qdYwKeUY2EkOBG0irc6hJ3xu3GNBKW6QD4KzZIym9OyLt6qgi9R9ldaQhIa-OE/s320/IMG_8495.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Judith</td></tr>
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I wish you could experience Eduardo, the duck (who we forgot to lock up last night...but he survived). Or taking the baby chicks to and fro every morning and every night as they molt and grow-- looking sweaty and ugly. I wish you could meet Judith, the new calf who wobbles around with gangly knees. I wish you could collect the eggs each afternoon with us, getting as excited as we do when we find one more day than the day before. Or, when we count the hens and discover one missing. See ya, lady hen...(we never found her).<br />
<br />
I wish you could experience making cheese. We're basically professionals now...every day trying to perfect our craft to make more cheese with the same amount of milk. We've increased by almost 3 kilos since our first attempt (that's like 6.5 lbs!). I wish you could cut down banana trees with us. Or feed Wheela (the baby pig) and listen to the disgusting sounds of pigs eating slop.<br />
<br />
I wish you all could wash your hair in the sink (we're up to one wash since we got here...), or attempt to shave some portion of your legs. Or try to remember to put your toilet paper in the trash every time you pee, instead of the toilet. Or let throwing some water on yourself at night be sufficient enough for being "clean".<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDYFRY_OCt_YWV4nds1Vcomb3wR2DQNq33h6ZiWbeR_P9SgCp4OfAFCcQKY4FYMVVKyE5cVE1tPx8wHVq0FmPatpIfl0ZYuoRvqgOxP1PxTuoBmO90p8HyIPtiaUcwc7ByJg4ekLCChYE/s1600/IMG_8506.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDYFRY_OCt_YWV4nds1Vcomb3wR2DQNq33h6ZiWbeR_P9SgCp4OfAFCcQKY4FYMVVKyE5cVE1tPx8wHVq0FmPatpIfl0ZYuoRvqgOxP1PxTuoBmO90p8HyIPtiaUcwc7ByJg4ekLCChYE/s320/IMG_8506.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sophia, the cat, comes to every meal.</td></tr>
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I wish you could all throw your chicken bones into the river after lunch, or feed the begging cat your scraps. I wish you all could drink maracuya juice with us, or cut down fresh papaya, or pluck a fresh pineapple from the plant between where you sleep and where you eat. <br />
<br />
But most of all, I wish you could be here and meet the people... because without <i>that</i>, there's no real picture of what our time here has been like.<br />
<br />
It's been unpredictable. But predictable. Chicks, cheese, hens, cheese, chicks, chicks, cheese, hens, chicks. It's all the hours in-between that leave you wondering: <i>what will today bring</i>?<br />
<br />
And while we've actually really enjoyed our time here and know that we COULD be here long-term, we made a decision. Neither of us feel like we SHOULD be here or that we have been called to move here. We still think we can help this ministry though, and we aim to do so.<br />
<br />
Finding quality people who can handle the adventure and lack of comfort, but desire to share the Gospel with this part of the world? We want to help do that. We want to help find someone to manage the farm, and another person to go to the local schools and teach young kids about Jesus and, simultaneously, a little English. We want to find people who are willing to learn new things (or new languages), and bring their skills to a little ministry in Costa Rica that desperately needs it.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmXcWeBYzrJlic8pwB1IN-PkRZu3l-239eoKmzr6L6SnxxCGafgKS3t2jiHlB5BtiT_K6s0OipvQ62obigBrePfEUtkCncImvQaZ_YTR-EfZ_uLZRoKd4XjGcLPArxJpWEBmN2ydUlFv4/s1600/IMG_8442.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmXcWeBYzrJlic8pwB1IN-PkRZu3l-239eoKmzr6L6SnxxCGafgKS3t2jiHlB5BtiT_K6s0OipvQ62obigBrePfEUtkCncImvQaZ_YTR-EfZ_uLZRoKd4XjGcLPArxJpWEBmN2ydUlFv4/s320/IMG_8442.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">19 baby chicks (this is only half of them)</td></tr>
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There's a little part of me that's sad about that. Mostly because, when someone is in need, I want to fix it. But, I'm realizing over and over again that I can't be the person who fixes any of it (nor do I always need to feel like I'm the one who has to).<br />
<br />
It's where faith comes in. Trusting the Lord that He'll take care of His people and His ministries...and we get to be faithful where we are, excited about what opportunities are before us.<br />
<br />
And tonight?<br />
Tonight there's a rifle outside the door so when the dogs bark and the raccoons come... Kel has a job to do.<br />
<br />
It's been a crazy day.<br />
I'll tell you more about it sometime.<br />
<br />
But, really.<br />
I wish you could all be here.<br />
(and maybe, someday, some of you will actually come!)<br />
<br />
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debbealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03738810557777390429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3237954847634331929.post-79145249287239696192019-02-01T17:21:00.001-08:002019-02-01T17:21:42.892-08:00CHEEEEESE....! I told Kel today that I don't have words to describe our experience in Costa Rica so far...other than just literally telling you what our life is currently like.<br />
<br />
But even that is hard to describe.<br />
<br />
In Costa Rica, plans are mostly impossible to make. A car breaks down, an appointment was never made, the car's tags are expired, the boat's motor gets flooded, it doesn't rain so you have no water (and therefore don't take showers for days and days), things take longer than anticipated, 17 people you're growing accustomed to living alongside leave within minutes. But somehow, through all of that, the internet has been reliable. Technology is amazing, friends.<br />
<br />
Today we made cheese.<br />
It wasn't supposed to happen that way.<br />
I was going to feed the chickens and meet up with Nelson, the farmhand, so he could walk me through the process. I had sort of helped two young women two days ago make it...fumbling through Spanish to ask questions and understand what was happening, and mostly considering how to make the process more efficient.<br />
<br />
The thing about a language barrier is that when you show up to make the cheese and Nelson never shows up (except to show you how much Caujo to add and that the cheese will be ready to make in treinta minutos) is that eventually you realize that maybe he's thinking <i>you're</i> making the cheese. By now it's been an hour, because you fed the chickens and the pigs and tried to knock some coconuts down (for the chickens) and walked around looking for Nelson...and so it's time to just try to mimic what I saw my new friends do a few days ago. And I wouldn't normally care about messing something like this up, but the fact that it gives the farm much-needed dollars feels a little like pressure.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB_wdkqYyOewgyglvqPdNRRHh9Z6ctTUFwU26DwzRUdJYFHKF90bA6OhpnVjSXQcGD1MILw1557RHmujCKEGwqQAn382bkbtNzwnVhCSNNE9LZUStjYgXYy0la03tJrNXzi4yYwJac_3s/s1600/FullSizeRender-5.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1203" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB_wdkqYyOewgyglvqPdNRRHh9Z6ctTUFwU26DwzRUdJYFHKF90bA6OhpnVjSXQcGD1MILw1557RHmujCKEGwqQAn382bkbtNzwnVhCSNNE9LZUStjYgXYy0la03tJrNXzi4yYwJac_3s/s320/FullSizeRender-5.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">our first attempt at cheese!</td></tr>
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<br />
So, we made cheese.<br />
And it doesn't taste half bad.<br />
<br />
We wake up around 6:00AM.<br />
Today Kel immediately was asked down to the river with a bucket so there would be water to flush the toilets with. And then he went to help milk the cows, but got there in time to see one of the pigs slaughtered and taken away. I recently got assigned chicken duty-- so I put the baby chicks out each morning and make sure they have food and water all day long. They have to get fat. Fat, so they can be eaten.<br />
<br />
There were 17 refugees here when we arrived. A family from El Salvador who had gone through some really tragic things and needed a place to stay. We became friends through pointing at objects, asking questions by using the wrong conjugations, trying out Google translate (which is actually hard because if I ask a question I didn't know how to ask, they'll usually answer the question in a way that I'll never be able to understand). They cooked El Salvadorian food for us...blended beans that you dip your fried banana into. I didn't love it. But I was thankful for their generosity and kindness. One day, the police showed up asking for passports. A few hours later, they were packing their bags, praying for us, and walking down the dirt road with rolling suitcases. I still don't really know what happened or why it happened. But, I'm thankful for them and our time together with them.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1SHinhy4dBKHNQsuKiHH_jEMQSrHkF3Kf6T5_vbTH2ty0ZwUd5xyt4uu2V_VwHPEQbM78B9MmyezSLxn0-jemXzkQRtZL_KcWXO9GHDToFgDl8g7VEK-M7_HkkmAWMEfA_cw79e91CvI/s1600/IMG_8461.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1SHinhy4dBKHNQsuKiHH_jEMQSrHkF3Kf6T5_vbTH2ty0ZwUd5xyt4uu2V_VwHPEQbM78B9MmyezSLxn0-jemXzkQRtZL_KcWXO9GHDToFgDl8g7VEK-M7_HkkmAWMEfA_cw79e91CvI/s320/IMG_8461.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kel getting coconuts for las gallinas (hens)</td></tr>
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It's a little lonelier on the farm now.<br />
(And part of why we made cheese).<br />
<br />
But, the <i>really</i> pressing question is the one I don't have words for.<br />
<br />
There's a part of my soul that could be quite content with barefeet, hairy armpits, fresh-grown fruit at my fingertips, being in the middle-of-nowhere, learning a language fluently, interacting with the local community in the various ways that this mission does--through schools, churches, business on the farm. Basically, the farm sustains the ministry.<br />
<br />
We talk a lot about the dreams and ideas we have. Starting up a discipleship program, bringing people out to learn about hard, manual labor through farm work while also learning what it means to follow Jesus more wholeheartedly. Continuing the sharing the Gospel in local schools, helping out local church plants, being a resource, building relationships with people internationally. So much has already happened here for the sake of the Gospel...and there's so much more that could be done.<br />
<br />
But there are a lot of dreams we would be leaving behind. A lot of ideas that haven't come to fruition. A lot of relationships we are in the midst of. A lot of people we get to walk through life with and learn more about the Lord alongside. Foster Care. Camp ministry. Family. Community. Church. Things (and people) we are passionate about and things we believe in.<br />
<br />
So we're here.<br />
We made it.<br />
We're learning about life on a farm.<br />
We laugh a lot and sweat a lot.<br />
<br />
Keep praying for discernment.<br />
(and for it to rain!)<br />
(and for us to make better cheese tomorrow!)<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />debbealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03738810557777390429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3237954847634331929.post-71307667197652134462019-01-27T14:33:00.000-08:002019-01-27T14:33:29.354-08:00Adios.Exactly one week later and I'm back in the DFW airport.<br />
<br />
Only this time I'm not alone.<br />
And this time, my husband and I are heading to Costa Rica.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgI-R1U-2swjM4KXTOgPoScFUklUAg3vH729GrC7laA1sQXl33QVIk4FDaSXuM2gElf3C9TtQNjVrWUFIqwfNiwk28ouo8Ow4U0pDXUmxTCTHLlIrnC6zMz1PJ10GuxgDxCLPuVOFrdr0/s1600/Screen+Shot+2019-01-26+at+8.25.34+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="628" data-original-width="923" height="427" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgI-R1U-2swjM4KXTOgPoScFUklUAg3vH729GrC7laA1sQXl33QVIk4FDaSXuM2gElf3C9TtQNjVrWUFIqwfNiwk28ouo8Ow4U0pDXUmxTCTHLlIrnC6zMz1PJ10GuxgDxCLPuVOFrdr0/s640/Screen+Shot+2019-01-26+at+8.25.34+PM.png" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
In a whirlwind of a week of surprises, we pushed back our trip by 5 days so I could be in Missouri to help my mom with her recovery from <a href="http://alwayssecondchances.blogspot.com/2019/01/brave.html">a broken hip</a>. It was the right decision. And while she's on the road to rehab, we're now on our way out of the country.<br />
<br />
I've <a href="http://alwayssecondchances.blogspot.com/2019/01/lots-of-doors.html">alluded to this trip</a> before, but haven't exactly talked about why we are going or what we are doing. It's mostly because I'm not entirely sure.<br />
<br />
Ever since August, Kel and I have been in a place of wondering if we were where we needed to be. Events out of nowhere sent us on a quest of prayerfully considering if camp was where we were meant to be. And, in the midst of our questions, we received a "cry for help" from a longtime connection I had in Costa Rica from when I had gone in 2010:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span lang="EN-US">Presently I´m teaching the Bible in 4 schools and an additional community without a school every week. There are 5 more schools asking me to teach, but I can´t get to more places as well as teach Bible classes to adults some 4 times a week, plus administrate the farm, and the other branches and churches we have around the river.</span><span style="background-color: transparent;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent;"> </span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent;"></span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span lang="EN-US">It breaks my heart to have people asking me to come share the gospel and in fact I can´t get there.</span><span style="background-color: transparent;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent;"> </span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent;"></span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span lang="EN-US">The national representative to the foundation of Las <span class="il">Palmas</span> de <span class="il">Mamre</span> suggested that he and I visit some mission conferences to recruit for the school of mission and for another missionary who would be able to adapt to a rugged life, to come take over some of these burdens. My problem is that I can´t be here running things as well as be up there sharing.</span><span style="background-color: transparent;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent;"> </span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent;"></span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span lang="EN-US">The farm as also been recognized as a model organic farm and I have been sent to several trainings in organic farming as well 4 different projects on a national level. All of this takes time and I just can´t get to everything.</span></span></blockquote>
<i>We'll help.</i><br />
It was our immediate reaction to the email.<br />
Within weeks we had talked to our supervisors, families, friends, and booked tickets for four weeks to Costa Rica.<br />
<br />
When I married Kel, one of his "things" was <i>simple obedience</i>. A desire to be willing to do whatever the Lord asked, whenever He asked it, with whoever needed it. It's one of the reasons I love him...he pushes me to do what's uncomfortable and what sometimes feels seemingly impossible.<br />
<br />
So, if the Lord were calling us to move our entire lives to help our friend in Costa Rica and the ministry that is happening there...? I believe that we would go.<br />
<br />
Although sitting in this airport, months after all the initial excitement has waned, and my mom is recovering from hip surgery, and our jobs are filled with things we are truly passionate about, and we're in our last stages of Foster Care training... I can't help but wonder... <i> is this actually what's next? </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Because I want to go when I'm asked to go. </i><br />
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<br />
But I also want to stay when I need to stay.<br />
<i><br /></i>
So, faithful friends...<br />
We need your prayers.<br />
Prayers that our hearts would be open to the Spirit's leading in our lives. I'm not convinced that there's a "right" or "wrong" decision in any of this, either. I am, however, convinced that we have been made in the image of God and that we have various giftings and passions that can be used for His glory and I want mine to be used to the fullest. So that people would know Him. So that people would <i>follow</i> Him with their whole lives.<br />
<br />
Pray that we would be obedient.<br />
Obedient in our day-to-day, as we spend the next 3.5 weeks serving in whatever capacity is asked of us. Obedient with our entire lives, with how we invest in those around us. Pray that we would not allow the lack of comforts or the unfamiliarity of culture and language to dissuade us if <i>going</i> is what is best. But pray that we wouldn't be swept up in the romantic notions that doing something seemingly grand for the Kingdom is better than staying with what we have known. Pray for discernment and wisdom.<br />
<br />
I don't know what our days will look like. Traveling? Farm work? Time in the schools or Bible classes?<br />
<br />
We will try to keep you posted often, pending our internet situation.<br />
<br />
Above all, pray that we would be able to share Jesus with those we encounter and be a true help to those who need it. Pray that we can love well, despite the language barriers (or pray that we can miraculously remember all of our Spanish classes from high school and college). Pray that we (mostly me) wouldn't worry about all the things I cannot control back home, or at work, or with school assignments that are due every Monday... and that we could let go and really be present where we are at.<br />
<br />
Thanks for being a community of people, near and far, who support us and love us. We couldn't do this without you.<br />
<br />
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debbealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03738810557777390429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3237954847634331929.post-80518813948936772252019-01-21T09:50:00.001-08:002019-01-21T09:50:48.499-08:00Brave "Who is your hero and why?"<br />
<br />
I feel like I had to answer this question a lot growing up--whether it was a school assignment or on an application, it seemed to cross my path often. I never really knew how to answer it. I never really felt like I had a hero. A hero (to me) implied that there was someone that I wanted to be exactly like...but I never really wanted that. At least, not in <i>every</i> way.<br />
<br />
I remember putting my mom down as the answer to this question. For a long list of reasons, I felt like she was the person I <i>most</i> wanted to be like--even if not in every way. I have the tendency to see all the ways people are imperfect and why I actually wouldn't <i>want</i> to be like them, even if they have a million incredible qualities. My mom probably got the brunt of this criticism more than most. In fact, she'd be the first to tell you that I was one of the most difficult children (of four) to raise. Believe it or not, I'm stubborn. And opinionated. And strong-willed. And selfish. And direct. But for whatever reason (mostly because it was so long ago and I can't recall why) I wrote my mom into that blank almost every time.<br />
<br />
I haven't encountered the "hero" question much lately. But, I have encountered my mom more. And, the more I get to spend time with her, the more I'd be willing to write her name down over and over again to answer this question.<br />
<br />
"You can't teach an old dog new tricks."<br />
These are the type of sentiments we tend to believe about the people who are older than us. We're convinced that people are "stuck in their ways" and "unwilling to change".<br />
<br />
These are the exact reasons why my mom inspires me. In the last several years, I have watched my mom change. I have watched her open her mind, her heart, her life up to new people, experiences, and challenges. I have watched her love generously, give selflessly, live more uncomfortably, and wrestle with hard things.<br />
<br />
When I grow up, I hope I'm as willing to embrace change as much as she has. I hope that I'm willing to admit that I'm wrong. I hope that I'm willing to live my life differently than I have (for maybe even decades) as I wrestle with what is true and good and how that can affect my everyday actions. I hope that I'm willing to learn "new tricks".<br />
__________________________________<br />
<br />
I wrote this a few months back, knowing I'd eventually finish it. I didn't imagine, however, finishing it in the DFW airport on my way to Missouri because my mom is in the hospital with a broken hip.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEholmI6OY52sbwET9o7H_RN3prndk9QL9AObpZxzWtwWTD1T_MsLIgCKzriud1Sd1uY8SUgIe9doG8TMTPtUl4mHJeDfdENwxLzhy-d1qdQN2WcXhIbE2INU6bUv3_c-E2jrAX5k3XltoE/s1600/IMG_8310.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEholmI6OY52sbwET9o7H_RN3prndk9QL9AObpZxzWtwWTD1T_MsLIgCKzriud1Sd1uY8SUgIe9doG8TMTPtUl4mHJeDfdENwxLzhy-d1qdQN2WcXhIbE2INU6bUv3_c-E2jrAX5k3XltoE/s320/IMG_8310.jpeg" width="240" /></a>But, here we are. In the midst of the constant reminder that nothing ever goes according to our plans. A simple morning routine, one that you've done every day for <i>years. </i>A routine that leaves you on your back, on the ice, calling for help for an hour in twenty-degree weather. A routine that leads to surgery and a long recovery.<br />
<br />
Life is crazy.<br />
And unexpected.<br />
And hard.<br />
And, somehow in spite of all of that, still beautiful.<br />
<br />
And my mom, my hero of a mom, fights through it all.<br />
A kid with a heart defect who survives emergency open-heart surgery at 19.<br />
Kid(s) who come close to abandoning their faith or marrying addicts.<br />
The loss of her good friend.<br />
The loss of her parents.<br />
The loss of her first grandchild.<br />
Breast Cancer.<br />
And now this: a broken hip.<br />
<br />
She asked us to pray that she would be brave.<br />
I don't know if she realizes that this is exactly who she's been her whole life. Brave enough to be different. Brave enough to be more like Jesus. Brave enough to invite a stranger to live with them. Brave enough to fight through all the sickness, the brokenness, the death and to remember that she has purpose in the life she has left to live.<br />
<br />
Brave enough to see the people who are serving her in her incapacitated state as <i>people </i>and desire to know and love them.<br />
<br />
I get to see my mom tomorrow.<br />
I get to watch her be brave. To face the pain. To start to recover.<br />
<br />
Because my hero of a mom <i>is</i> brave.<br />
Brave and broken.<br />
Brave and willing.<br />
Brave and seeking for her entire life to still reflect the image of God.<br />
<br />
Maybe all of us have something to learn from my mom.<br />
Maybe all of us need to be a little more brave.<br />
A little more willing. A little more open to how our brokenness can give us opportunities to be brave.<br />
<br />
Brave enough to fight, to speak up, to love, to open our hearts up to the things and people who are different from us. Brave enough to change. Brave enough to be Jesus in the midst of a world that hates Him (John 15:18-21). <br />
<br />
Pray for my mom to continue to be brave.<br />
For her to fight through this physical recovery so that she can have more opportunities to be brave in how she pursues the Lord and loves His people.<br />
<br />
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debbealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03738810557777390429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3237954847634331929.post-44700031039629244272019-01-07T16:32:00.000-08:002019-01-07T16:32:30.102-08:00Lots of Doors"You're opening lots of doors!"<br />
<br />
Lately I've been seeing our next steps through a lens of chaos and uncertainty, so the above response was generous to my soul.<br />
<br />
So what if we're heading to Costa Rica for four weeks while also working our way through Foster Care training while also trying to do our jobs while also entering my final year of graduate school...<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Lots of open doors</i>.<br />
I like that. Maybe I need that. Maybe it helps the crazy feeling feel a little less crazy.<br />
<br />
I was frantically getting ready for church yesterday morning because I was, of course, running behind. I began thinking about Foster Care and what it would look like to have a four-year-old living in our house that we would also have to get ready for church. And while that might be a perfectly normal thing for most 34-year-olds in the world, the thought hurled me into a: <i>what are we doing</i> moment. I don't know how to be a mom.<br />
<br />
I decided recently that I need to react more quickly to the urgings that are pressed upon my heart. The times when I think, "I wonder how ___________ is doing-- I really ought to reach out." Or, "I should probably give that homeless man something". Or, "We should invite that couple out for lunch." <br />
<br />
These are the types of thoughts I think often and then, almost as soon as I think them, they are gone. I haven't actually <i>done</i> anything. My good intentions vanish into thin air and I'm immediately consumed by another thought that's, most likely, self-absorbed.<br />
<br />
But what if I didn't move on?<br />
What if I paused and sent the text message? What if I stopped the car and found a way to reach out? What if I went out of my way to extend the invite? <br />
<br />
It's crazy how quickly I can talk myself out of doing something.<br />
It's crazy how much my own insecurities and fears send me into the spiral of self-focus and how quickly a situation becomes about me instead of the person I was just thinking about.<br />
<br />
I get scared that I'll be rejected. Or that I'm too much. Or that I'm not enough. Or that no one really wants (or needs) <i>me. </i><br />
<br />
Or, that I don't know how to be a mom and have never been a mom and that I'm much too selfish to really handle bringing a child into our home. How much earlier would I have to wake up, anyway? <br />
<br />
They're never good reasons. Even the best-sounding ones aren't actually good. They're just selfish. Fearful of change. Fearful of the unknown. Fearful of my world not revolving around me and what I want, when I want it.<br />
<br />
I didn't <i>mean</i> to make a New Year's resolution. I just meant to do something different...to live differently. It just happened to be right around the start of 2019. It's not about being "my best self" or living my "best life". It's just about responding. Responding to the urgings to ask, to call, to text, to show up, to care, to go. It's about not talking myself <i>out </i>of things, but talking myself into following through with the initial thoughts. It's about kindness and generosity and hospitality and hope. It's about letting go of me.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzISCp1FShYAjuaq5ZvKT30fdyqJNltQ4ttAgbaJ8aqClcQTvSZjzkMAg7HqdFAYEAe3wUGNWs-OgXTqj2-fVjG6GccuAjMevFvEoDe-9KkW9kNktjYEOUtCmMZrPzfx5eBjz2mntJjoQ/s1600/IMG_8242.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="746" data-original-width="750" height="316" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzISCp1FShYAjuaq5ZvKT30fdyqJNltQ4ttAgbaJ8aqClcQTvSZjzkMAg7HqdFAYEAe3wUGNWs-OgXTqj2-fVjG6GccuAjMevFvEoDe-9KkW9kNktjYEOUtCmMZrPzfx5eBjz2mntJjoQ/s320/IMG_8242.jpeg" width="320" /></a>In some ways, this is like the "<a href="http://alwayssecondchances.blogspot.com/2013/06/saying-yes.html">summer of yes</a>" for me. Only, instead of saying "YES" to things people are asking me to do, I'm saying YES to (what I think is) the Holy Spirit moving me toward people. Saying YES to getting over myself, my fears, my worries, my selfishness...and going towards others.<br />
<br />
<br />
Saying yes to opening up more doors.<br />
Even doors that might lead me to other countries. Or doors that involve us inviting kids in who need a safe place for a little while. Or catching up with someone from a long time ago. Or doors that remind me that God cares deeply for others and He wants me to learn to do the same, regardless of what it might cost me (after all, just look at what it cost Him).<br />
<br />
We're opening up doors. Asking God to show us which ones to walk through.<br />
And I'm also resolved to respond to the promptings.<br />
To say yes.<br />
<br />
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debbealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03738810557777390429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3237954847634331929.post-7181930620835025992018-12-27T05:10:00.001-08:002018-12-27T05:29:30.339-08:00Good Morning<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgauKhSpn5A5dvYefVERiwMQJEeQEtkCYk0wgppiXPn0JpCXcP0r5R6CSbgHMmMUA02Yi4hY2zHUcHe5lqNrcbaWq44SBkwBInkgo2PrqZaKQTj6i-dYxNZwhA-ftv3-QYTH5c1JzzXuAQ/s1600/IMG_8067.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1203" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgauKhSpn5A5dvYefVERiwMQJEeQEtkCYk0wgppiXPn0JpCXcP0r5R6CSbgHMmMUA02Yi4hY2zHUcHe5lqNrcbaWq44SBkwBInkgo2PrqZaKQTj6i-dYxNZwhA-ftv3-QYTH5c1JzzXuAQ/s320/IMG_8067.jpeg" width="320" /></a>It's been one of those nights/mornings where I can't turn off my mind.<br />
<br />
My husband and I are currently trekking our way across Texas, working our way up to Missouri -- spending time with our families for the holidays. We generally like to start these 13-hour jaunts in the wee hours of the morning. And when we wake up early, it means deep sleep is usually impossible for me.<br />
<br />
Rather than sleep, my mind soars through a seemingly endless list of things.<br />
Work.<br />
Family.<br />
School.<br />
Mission.<br />
Costa Rica.<br />
Foster Care.<br />
Babies.<br />
Jesus.<br />
Living more radically.<br />
People.<br />
<br />
I've <a href="http://alwayssecondchances.blogspot.com/2018/10/cereal-and-dishes.html">written somewhat recently</a> about some of the happenings in the Beal family, but what you don't know yet is that in the two months since that blog post, a few things have happened.<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>I wrapped up the fall semester of grad school and my mind is still reeling from all the information and how to practically apply it in my life. </li>
<li>We filled out and submitted our application for Foster Care and attended our first RAFT training (Relative Adoptive Foster parent Training). </li>
<li>We booked tickets to Costa Rica for 4 weeks to see if the Lord might be leading us to a permanent move there. </li>
<li>We found renters for our second rental home! </li>
</ul>
<div>
Wait wait wait, back up... </div>
<div>
How does Foster Care coincide with Costa Rica? </div>
<div>
We aren't sure yet. </div>
<div>
But we're taking steps forward because, regardless of where we land, we know we have to do more. We know we want to do better. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And as my mind spins in the dark hours of the morning, I'm still pondering Christmas in the midst of all of this. Jesus <i>came</i>. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I don't know if I fully grasp the significance of this yet, but I think I learn it more and more, the older I get and more I learn about God's character. These are the truths that zoom me out of my limited, earthly perspective and remind me that God is faithful. That God comes to us. It's actually quite unbelievable...when you <i>really</i> think about it. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And despite my list of worries and wonderings, there's a steadiness attached to the unknowns. It's an assuredness that it'll all work out. Whether we stay or go, whether we have kids or never do, when we mess up and when we fail. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I'm scared of failing. </div>
<div>
Probably more than I've ever admitted. </div>
<div>
But somewhere, in these wee hours of the morning, there are the reminders that even when I fail people, or mess up at work, or can't have kids, or say the wrong thing at the wrong time or in the wrong tone... that God has me. And, because of that, there's a call on my life to reflect His image more fully. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
God comes to be with His people. </div>
<div>
Jesus came as a baby, and dwelt with His people. </div>
<div>
The Holy Spirit lives <i>in</i> us. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So despite my best efforts to distance myself from people, I keep getting slapped in the face with the need to come back. If I am to be like Jesus.... if I am to be the image-bearer of God that Genesis declares that I am... I need to <i>go to people. </i></div>
<div>
<i><br /></i></div>
<div>
All people. </div>
<div>
The ones who have hurt me. </div>
<div>
The ones who are hurting. </div>
<div>
The ones who I have hurt. </div>
<div>
The ones who are lonely. </div>
<div>
The ones who are in need. </div>
<div>
The ones who are not like me. </div>
<div>
The ones who have lost their husbands. </div>
<div>
The ones who have lost their family. </div>
<div>
The ones who are broken. </div>
<div>
The ones who have no voice. </div>
<div>
The ones who are defenseless. </div>
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The ones who have sinned "greatly". </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
This is what I mean by doing more. </div>
<div>
Because the more I learn about the Lord...the more I learn that He is a God who cares deeply for <i>all</i> people. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We aren't sure what "more" needs to look like for us yet. </div>
<div>
But we're praying that our hearts would be willing, ready, obedient to whatever the call my be. Even if it means moving away from our comforts and our community. Even it means inviting children to come to live with us for a day, a month, or forever. Even if it means becoming more involved, more aware, more vocal, more uncomfortable exactly where we are. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<i>We have to do more. </i></div>
<div>
We have to love more. </div>
<div>
The self-sacrificing type of love. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I sat with Kel's grandmother this past week a few different times. She lost her husband a few years ago. Sitting with her wasn't exhilarating. But as I listened to her stories and asked her questions, I thought to myself: <i>this is what love can look like</i>. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Just showing up. Listening. Asking. Paying attention to the needs of those around us. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I want to hear more. </div>
<div>
And I want to respond.</div>
<div>
I want to do more. </div>
<div>
I want to love more...even if it means being inconvienced. </div>
<div>
Because of what God has done. </div>
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<br /></div>
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We can have no other response. </div>
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<br />debbealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03738810557777390429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3237954847634331929.post-54221031472770037812018-11-05T11:44:00.000-08:002018-11-05T11:44:05.963-08:00Pursuer of Purpose<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I took scissors to my hair in 9<sup>th</sup> grade. It wasn’t a good decision, but something needed to change. The blonde locks of my youth had turned into a mousy brown that no amount of <i>Sun-In</i> could remedy. I was officially a brunette—an acne-faced, frizzy-haired, and (now) unevenly ear-length bobbed adolescent brunette. I had been denying the effects of puberty for a few years, but I couldn’t live in the ignorance any longer. The self-cut was a bold move, a regrettable move. It was a move that spoke to that stage in my life. Independent. Able. Willing. Strong. And probably, in reality, it was an attempt to hide a whole lot of insecurity.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>You matter. </i><br />It's a statement I struggled to believe for much of my life. I constantly wanted affirmation that these words were, in fact, true.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><br />
</i><i>Prove it</i>. I would typically spit back. Because (I was sure) if I <i>really</i> mattered, then my life would be different. People would treat me different. God would have pulled through on the array of different requests I had thrown up to Him.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: inherit;">So, naturally, it's easy to go through life believing the opposite is true: <i>you don't matter</i>.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: inherit;">I'm finding more and more that I'm not the only one who has walked in the wake of this lie. I'm not the only one who has suffered through it, who has agonized over the rejection, who has desperately attempted to prove to herself that maybe it's not true. Because, when you believe the lie--it's not really a lie. It's your reality, it's the voice you hear on repeat in your head: <i>You don't matter</i>.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: inherit;">When you live your life believing somewhere at the core of who you are that you don't actually matter, it seems to play out in a variety of different ways. Some people self-harm. Some people try to fight the lie, trying to prove that they do matter to someone or to something. Some people try to pretend it's not really there.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: inherit;">I think I did a lot of fighting and a lot of pretending. I tried to find validation in boys. Or sports. Or grades. Or being a "good Christian". Or having a sweet haircut. Because, if I was loved by someone, or if I was MVP, or if I was an A-student, or a really great Christian who read my Bible and prayed, or if I was hot... wouldn't I matter? Wouldn't that amount to something? Wouldn't that mean that I had done something right?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: inherit;">For one of my classes this past year, we had to detail out our entire life story in such a way that caused us to examine our strengths, our passions, our purpose. At the same time, we were asked to walk through the events where we had face opposition and look for the commonalities in them. As I made my list, I began to see a core lie emerge: <i>You don't matter</i>.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: inherit;">In so many instances throughout my life, I could see the devil at work in his attempt to persuade me with this blatant attack. <i>You don't matter</i>. For so long, I believed it. For so long, I pretended to be an upbeat, happy-go-lucky girl that was winning at life. In fact, I think I was so good at pretending that I actually started to believe that the facade was true. I started to believe that the success mattered significantly more than whatever was going on inside. Avoidance and pretending seemed to be working. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: inherit;">But, on one harrowing Thanksgiving break in college--all my walls collapsed. I remember sitting at the table and after an awful statement (made by yours truly) caused quite the commotion among the family... being <i>broken</i>. Like, fall on your face, weeping type of broken. Broken because there was this flood of all the things I had pushed back for years suddenly surfacing in the mind of my 20-year-old self. Words that had been said. Things that had been done. Every single one of them communicated the same thing: <i>You don't matter</i>. <i>You <b>never</b> have</i>. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: inherit;">I ran that night. Out of my parent's house and into the arms of my oldest brother who had chased me out the door. He held me tight and wouldn't let me go, despite my every attempt to escape his grip. <i>You matter. You are loved</i>. He proclaimed truth. His direct opposition to the words I had unknowingly believed for so long felt like a bright light suddenly shining in my dark world. It hurt. It made me mad. I wanted to fight it. But it was exactly what I needed to hear in that moment. </span><br />
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</span> <span style="font-family: inherit;">I wish I could say that from that moment on, I've never believed the lie. But, I think that moment was only a step toward a necessary healing that would take years and years to be complete. In fact, I would have to admit that at any moment of opposition I encounter, it's hard for me to not immediately jump to a place of thinking I don't matter. </span><br />
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</span> <span style="font-family: inherit;">This same class assignment required a re-naming of ourselves as we begin to embrace more of our giftings and strengths. As I processed through all the life events, both the good and the bad, I ended up with this "new name": <i>Pursuer of Purpose</i>. It speaks to the way I interact with people and the way I long for things to be in my relationship with the Lord: <i>purposeful</i>. I want Scripture to have purpose, to move me toward action. I want my actions and life to reflect the purpose that I believe Scripture calls me to. I want to overcome the challenges, but allow them to have a deeper significance, for there to be purpose to them. I want to learn from the past and to know how I can use the elements of my story for the Lord’s glory.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: normal;">This lie that I keep coming back to seems to counter this passion and desire of mine in a way that attempts to strip me of purpose. <i>You don’t matter</i>. And if I don’t matter, how can I do anything good? How can there be purpose in anything that I do? It seems that if the enemy can convince me to believe the lies, it can easily veer me off on a course to be self-absorbed, especially in a way that doesn’t reflect forward-propelling purpose. Instead, I’m debilitated, feeling sorry for myself and wrapped up in my own sob stories and heartaches. Instead of asking how the Lord can use what I’m going through to impact the Kingdom, I’m caught up solely in what I’m going through and how it makes me feel about myself and the Lord. I’m void of purpose. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: normal;">When I believe the lie that I don't matter, it becomes more about what the Lord can do <i>for </i>me, instead of what He is doing in me and how I can live more intentionally with those around me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: normal;">Now that I am more aware of the connections, I am able to see how I might be better able to recognize the lies and be more equipped to resist and act in such a manner that is true to my design. This involves stepping back, being aware of what is <i>really</i> going on and how it may be an attack and a deterrent from my calling. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: normal;">In fact, awareness of this allows me to react to the lies differently, in a way that can bring me back into a place of better understanding that sometimes the opposition is there <i>to</i> distract me from what I am meant to do. I love what Charles Spurgeon wrote in his sermon, <i>Satanic Hindrances</i>:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: normal;">If Satan hinders you, I have already said that this <i>opposition should cheer you</i>. If you can trace the opposition distinctly to Satan, do not sit down and fret. It is a great thing that you can actually trouble the great prince of darkness and win his hate. …Stand out against him because <i>you have an opportunity of making a greater gain than you could have had had he been quiet</i>. You could never have had victory over him had you not engaged in conflict with him. …Press on then; the more opposition, the more honor.<a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?tab=mj&blogID=3237954847634331929#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference" style="vertical-align: super;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference" style="vertical-align: super;">[1]</span></span></a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: normal;">If I can approach the hardships and challenges in a way that still enables to me to live out my name, my design—to pursue purpose—I think there is greater victory to be found in this story that I am living as I quest after the things the Lord would have for me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: normal;"><i>I matter</i>. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: normal;">Not because of anything I have done or haven't done. Not because of how I look or because of what I have to offer. Simply because the Creator of the universe calls me daughter.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuNkhGENFp8Lx50zPTpmhOklXvAAbKnCZeSIklhrQZrB3q4I_WCsLhdAsZAT7Ba2VBC5zhFsLgfT4WAnnw5Tdp5RL-8XdMdsnsDGCavluYPK8LkQKLvAm0Akcq0ZpljBIE21ULWBdGkyU/s1600/IMG_7483.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuNkhGENFp8Lx50zPTpmhOklXvAAbKnCZeSIklhrQZrB3q4I_WCsLhdAsZAT7Ba2VBC5zhFsLgfT4WAnnw5Tdp5RL-8XdMdsnsDGCavluYPK8LkQKLvAm0Akcq0ZpljBIE21ULWBdGkyU/s320/IMG_7483.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">There’s a consistency of the Lord reminding me of who <i>He</i> is and of His love for me. He is constantly addressing the core lies, the doubts, the hurts, the worries—and reminding me that He is God and He is good. It isn’t always the speediest process or when I think I need it to happen, but it happens exactly when I <i>actually </i>need it to happen. God remains faithful, unchanging, and steadfast and the patterns of His appearance in each of these scenarios in my life prove that. Not only is He communicating that I am <i>His</i>, but He is communicating that He wants good for me. The process isn’t just about salvation, but it’s also about being His daughter and a co-heir with Christ. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It is always humbling, always beautiful, and always Him coming to me, exactly where I am, and being exactly what I need Him to be. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">He's coming to you, too. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?tab=mj&blogID=3237954847634331929#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference" style="vertical-align: super;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference" style="vertical-align: super;">[1]</span></span></a> <span style="background: white;">Charles Spurgeon, <i>Spiritual Warfare in a Believer's Life</i>, ed. Robert Hall (Lynnwood, WA: Emerald Books, 1993), 123.</span></span></div>
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debbealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03738810557777390429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3237954847634331929.post-28435087784026150152018-10-27T20:03:00.002-07:002018-10-27T20:46:15.745-07:00Cereal and DishesI've made it a habit the last few years to do a mushy gushy anniversary post....and while our 4th anniversary came and went this year, and while I had every intention to sit down and write about how great marriage still is...<br />
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I never got around to it.<br />
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Sometimes that feels like a theme of life: Never getting around to things. Like cleaning my house. Or actually preparing real meals. Or brushing our dogs. Or looking like a presentable human being. So life just becomes about priorities and getting through the things that matter more when they matter more. And then you sleep. And then you wake up. And then you do it all over again... still thinking, "I really ought to...."<br />
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So here I am a month later, still reflecting on our last year of life together. And, rather than pages and pages of all the crazy, here are some paragraphs about what our life has entailed for us in our third full year of marriage. And mostly, you'll learn, that this is basically just a list of all the ways my husband supports me and how blessed I am by our marriage.<br />
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<li><b>School.</b> Distance learning at its finest--including a trip to Charlotte, NC and Boston, MA and lots of pages to read and write in the meantime. If my calculations are correct, my master's degree <i>could</i> be complete by next December. None of this would be possible without the endless amounts of support from my husband. This is a man who selflessly lets me read every paper and post aloud to him before submitting, who lets me disappear into my books every Saturday, who dialogues with me constantly about all the things I am learning, who doesn't complain about eating cereal because I'm too behind to cook, and who has washed more than his fair share of dishes as a result of my studies. Resuming classes is, hands down, one of the best decisions I have made in a while and I could not have done it without him by my side. </li>
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<li><b>Children</b>. In the last year we went through some basic testing to determine <i>why</i> we were not able to have children. While we weren't provided with any clear answers, there's been some peace in knowing that there's not anything "wrong" with us. There's been some peace in knowing that we can let it go and trust the Lord more fully in this area of our lives. In fact, the past month or so we've been in the process of considering what foster care could look like for us and if that's something we want to pursue. Foster Care hasn't ever been something on my radar, but for whatever reason on a random Sunday (with probably a whole lot of other factors influencing us) we felt the urging to open our hearts and home up to children (or even teenagers) in Santa Fe who may need a safe space for even just a short amount of time. Your prayers in this process would actually be awesome... </li>
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<li><b>Trips. </b>In addition to our school and work travels, we've found ourselves back Hawaii this fall (we just l-o-v-e Kauai and can't seem to get enough of it). We also worked our way to Florida to meet our newest niece who was already a year old! The ocean and the sun have held a special significance in our hearts during this last season which also led us to...</li>
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<li><b>New Tattoos</b>. Of suns (no, not turtles and not matching). Because the sun always rises. Because the sun rises on all people-- both evil and good--and it reminds us constantly to pray for those who have hurt us, for those who are harder for us to love, and to help us not show partiality to others (Matthew 5, James 2). And also, because... <i>from the rising of the sun, to the going down of the same, the name of the Lord shall be praised</i> (I can always hear my friend, Lyndi, singing this song based on Psalm 113:3). Basically the sun is awesome and it holds a lot of good reminders for us as a couple, but also us as individuals. </li>
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<li><b>Houses. </b>We just closed on another house in Columbia, MO that we hope to be another rental property. Have we seen it yet? No. Do we own it? Yes. Basically we're crazy. Pray that we can find renters quickly! </li>
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<li><b>Pottery</b>. In addition to supporting me fully in my school workload, Kel encouraged me to take another round of pottery lessons. I just wrapped up a 7-week stint that involved me being gone for hours and hours twice a week. Just the clay and me, fighting with each other until it decides that I'm actually in charge and it <i>will</i> be a bowl. Or a plate. Or a mug. Or something that will look cooler once it is glazed. And even though I was kind of dreading the time commitment the class would require, this time has been good for my soul. </li>
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<li><b>Church.</b> Our church involvement throughout our marriage has gone from zero to nil. This last year, however, we have realized the importance, the beauty, and the richness of caring more and giving more. Through church, we've been more actively involved in serving at a homeless shelter once a month. Through church, we have begun hosting and leading a Bible Study that challenges us to, together, reach up, reach in, and reach out. I've been proud of Kel's desire and commitment to being a part of growth, in not only our camp community, but also our local church community (and eventually beyond)!</li>
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<ul><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgym67CgZMSiVVtphxOYrmk_L2vaUhSAdKcEbUEjgKCmO0Ewla6ynJOTsICJ-tggGf5NcKNgb9Sfp5NDcwCJExwJyPO0qp9yv1D1pFju1m_5lb1PMF3nRNFN7gabwCzQgDZk7WlaWGOsec/s1600/IMG_7692.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1237" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgym67CgZMSiVVtphxOYrmk_L2vaUhSAdKcEbUEjgKCmO0Ewla6ynJOTsICJ-tggGf5NcKNgb9Sfp5NDcwCJExwJyPO0qp9yv1D1pFju1m_5lb1PMF3nRNFN7gabwCzQgDZk7WlaWGOsec/s320/IMG_7692.jpeg" width="246" /></a>
<li><b>Pain</b>. We have gone through a more painful season in our marriage this year than we ever have before. In it, we have learned, through brokenness and tears, what it looks like to lean on the Lord and also each other. We have been supported by a community of friends and family (both near and far) who have believed in us, prayed for us, fought for us, and reminded us that God is good, <i>all of the time</i>. We have been humbled by an outpouring of kindness and grace, we have been humbled that God's plans are not our plans, and we have been forced to open our eyes a bit wider to the world around us and asked to consider where and to whom the Lord might be calling us. </li>
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<li><b>Rhythms</b>. It's also been a year of learning more about rhythms--the need to rest and the need to lay down other responsibilities and commit ourselves to spiritual rhythms that lead us to the foot of the cross more consistently. We learn over and over how we cannot do much of anything good if we are not centered more wholly on the Lord and allowing the Spirit to move in and through us (vs. us always trying to do things on our own). This has involved a greater commitment to Sabbath-- to planning our lives around things that focus us on Christ and allow us to be more intentionally connected to Him, each other, and those we care about. Our Sabbath often involves corporate worship, solitude, time in creation, time with each other, and "family dinners"....and it definitely doesn't involve work or school! </li>
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<li><b>Discipleship</b><i style="font-weight: bold;">. </i>It is one of our greatest pleasures in life to journey alongside others in the quest to be more like Jesus. Both Kel and I have a deep passion to see other grow in their relationship with the Lord and are tremendously humbled when we are asked to be a part of this. When we get these opportunities, we try our best to support each other to love and serve others in ways that encourage growth, change, and more disciples of Jesus. This last year has been challenging to both of us in different aspects of discipleship, but also exciting and hopeful in other aspects. We have gotten to launch a new discipleship program at camp that is pretty sweet, too! </li>
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So maybe that's more of a Christmas letter on the Beals... but, in my absentee from the blog-o-sphere, there's been more going on in our lives that my quick response "life is busy" can really attest to. </div>
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The short of it? </div>
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Marriage is still awesome. </div>
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I'm blown away that I have a husband who I can talk to about anything and everything, who I can laugh with, who I can pray with, who I can be the ugliest in front of (physically and emotionally and spiritually and in every other way you can possibly imagine), and who loves me despite all of that. </div>
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Perhaps we're still newlyweds in the grand scheme of marriage. But, I'm still <i>so</i> blessed. The Lord has been so, so good to us. </div>
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Maybe I'll write more later. </div>
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Or maybe I'll never get around to it. </div>
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I guess we'll see. </div>
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Thanks for tuning in. </div>
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(Free free to shoot me over any questions you may have about any of that, too.) </div>
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debbealhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03738810557777390429noreply@blogger.com1