Oceans

"We did not select you to proceed to the next stages of the application process." 

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. 

The speedy actions of my fingers on the keyboard didn't tamp out the sting I still felt. 
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. 

But here I was, literally staring rejection in the face. Again. 

My new reality has stirred up a lot about identity, value, worth. 
I'm in an ocean of unknown territory. It's a new ocean, but it brings about familiar memories from days long ago. 

The waves come and, as they hit, they cause me to feel unwanted or inadequate. There is 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. 

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. Do 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". 

It's a silly lie. But it's a real one. 
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. 

Sometimes it makes me fear the ocean. 
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, safer. 

But here I am. 
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. 

And these are the conversations with God that remind me that my worth cannot be found in doing. 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. 

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 will fulfill His purpose for me (Psalm 138). 

All too often I can convince myself that I am capable... on my own. Able to achieve, conquer, do anything, be anything... 

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. 

I wish I could scream that I am strong, able, and resilient. 
But I must confess that I am weak, scared, and dependent. 

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 He 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. 

What kindness. 
What mercy. 
What love. 

Of this I am sure: I am not alone. 
This ocean will not swallow me. 

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Gratitude

The overarching feeling over the last week is: gratitude.

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.

Because life still goes on.
Babies still cry.
Kids still need to eat.
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.

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. Gratitude. 

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. Gratitude.

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.

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.

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. Gratitude. 

We have a lot to be thankful for. A lot that hasn’t been promised to us.

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.

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.

Not all is lost.
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.”

It cost Him everything.
For this broken humanity, God gave up everything. Even while we were His enemies. The gospel is unbelievable, unimaginable, unfathomable good news. How we respond means everything...

Thanks for reflecting Jesus to me/my family. For reminding me of the sacrifice, the cost, the selflessness that comes with love and the many different ways love can look. But love always costs something. Time. Words. Safety. Money. Pride. Comfort. Something. 

Hold your people closer tonight.
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.

Matt came home today. A miracle. A gift. Gratitude.

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.

Thank you, friends and family.
There are no other words.... but gratitude. 

A Heart to Heart

It's been a crazy year, to say the least. A lot of unimaginable things have happened. Probably most of us can say that.

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. 

So, that's what you get in this post. An update. 

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. 

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. 

It's a new way of life. 

With new rhythms and habits and freedoms. 

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! 

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 hear it directly from him, though (and also a way you can support 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. 

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. 

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. 

It's such a crazy season. 

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.

Waiting. 

Watching.

Anticipating. 

Praying. 

Eager to see what the Lord has in store, for such a time as this. 

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Martin Luther King, Jr.’s Most Powerful Weapon

Written in January 2018: 

“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.


Formative Years
“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.

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”.

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.

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.

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:

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.

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.


Prayer
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.

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.

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.

One particular story that King tells in his sermon, Our God is Able, 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.”

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.”



Understanding Scripture
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.

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:

…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.

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.


Non-violent Resistance
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.

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.”

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.”

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.”’


Conclusion
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.

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.

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.


Appendix: Reflection

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 Strength to Love 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 why he lived the way he did.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Bibliography

Ansbro, John J. Martin Luther King, Jr.: Nonviolent Strategies and Tactics for Social Change. Lanham, MD: Madison Books, 2000.

Baldwin, Lewis V. Never to Leave Us Alone: The Prayer Life of Martin Luther King, Jr. Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 2010.

Carson, Clayborne, editor. The Autobiography of Martin Luther King, Jr. New York, NY: Warner Books, Inc., 1998.

King Institute Resources. Accessed January 28, 2018. http://kingencyclopedia.stanford.edu/primarydocuments/Vol2Intro.pdf.

King, Martin Luther. Strength to Love. Minneapolis, MN: Fortress, 2010.

King, Martin Luther. A Testament of Hope: The Essential Writings of Martin Luther King, Jr. Edited by James Melvin Washington. New York, NY: HarperCollins, 1986.

King, Martin Luther. "Thou, Dear God": Prayers That Open Hearts and Spirits. Edited by Lewis V. Baldwin. New York, NY: Beacon Press, 2012.

King, Martin Luther. A Knock at Midnight. Edited by Clayborne Carson and Peter Holloran. New York: Warner Brooks, Inc., 1998.

Mitchell, Henry H. "The Awesome Meek." Pulpit Digest, January 1991, 23-26.

Go

I have a love-hate relationship with my birthday.

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?

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 could we do and what did I want 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...

But then last night, it hit me.
It was brilliant. Mostly because it wasn't me.

Come to me.
Be with me. 

"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".

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:

“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”

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 be 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.

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, then others.

I hiked. I hammocked. I worshipped. I dozed. I prayed. I cried. I laughed. You might have thought of me a crazy person.

But it was so good.
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.

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.

Henri Nouwen's book, Reaching Out, 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 lonely, 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... with God. 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."

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.

As a result, my challenge for you (and me) is this: Go. Get away with God. Go without an agenda, without a plan, without expectation.

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.

Be willing.
Be honest.
Be mad. Be lonely. Be sad. Be scared. Be sick. Be healthy. Be thankful. Be happy. Be worried.

But go.

He can handle all of it.
He is calling.
Will you follow?

Husbands/wives- watch the kids while the other takes some hours away.

We have the time. Maybe now, more than ever before. Be in relationship, yes. But with the Father, first and foremost.

Go.
Recover your life. 
Keep company with God. 

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.

Try it.
And then let me know how it goes.

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It is Time

Yesterday felt like "one for the books".
Final paycheck.
Cleaning out my office.
Saying goodbye to our laying hens in a rather sudden fashion.
Finding out that we can move with Baby K at any point.

There was a certain finality in yesterdays' events.
The stark realization that I wasn't being Punk'd, 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.

In the finalities, however, there was also so much blessing and goodness.

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: It is time.

I don't know how to describe the inner workings, or the thoughts, or the feelings... but I can assure you that even in the moments of the deepest pain, there also exists a deeper peace-- a peace that resolutely knows it is time.

Time to move on.
Time to explore what's next.
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.

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.

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, to be, 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.

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 moment, 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 this never changes. May we rejoice in this truth alone!

It is time to sing a new song on this earth.
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.

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.

AND, if you have any great suggestions for next my career moves, I'll happily add them to my list to consider :)

Baby K rolls!

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Upside Down

A few months ago, I had some hopes and dreams about what life "ought" to look like.

They involved slowing down.
Effectively, it had everything to do with actually turning life upside down.

Oh, the irony.

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. Not 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...

I remember thinking, How do I even do that? 
How do I make my life so about Jesus, first, 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?

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 The Common Rule, by Justin Whitmel Early.

We had just begun when coronavirus hit.
Slowing down became a new way of life for us. Work from home. Eat at home. Video calls by day and by night.

And then we lost our jobs.
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.

And then I remembered...
Just a few months ago I had wanted to somehow, miraculously, turn life upside down.
And here I was, with my life turned upside down.
Living in a bit of a nightmare, but also living in one of my dreams.

Here before us was a chance to be.
For the first time, and maybe the last time.

What a gift.
We are literally "stuck" in New Mexico as we figure things out with Baby K- for weeks, if not months.
We are literally "stuck" in our home, as the pandemic rages on - for weeks, if not months.

I have hours each day to choose how I will spend my time.

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.

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.

In this upside down world, we have new habits.
Kneeling prayer - morning, midday, and evening.
Lunchtime walks.
Times of solitude. Time that I've resumed journaling.
Time to talk...time to dream...time to think about what could be and where the Lord might lead us next.
Time for projects, for clean-up, for packing.
Time for egg-collecting, plant-watching, and baby giggles.
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.

Before us, each day, we have hours. Hours of opportunity. Hours I do not want to waste.

In this upside down world, life looks different.
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.

We have an opportunity press pause. To start over. To establish a new way of life. To create a new normal.

To be instead of being consumed by what I do. Because, I (sooooo easily) get consumed by doing and finding worth, value, and purpose in that alone.

What a sweet, hard opportunity before us.
It is one that we are painfully thankful for.

A few things we would covet prayers for, if you think of it:

• Figuring things out with Baby K and (hopefully!) the adoption process. 
• 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 love our next jobs, as well. 
• That we would be able to mourn, but also rejoice - even in a hard, sad season. 
• 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). 

Thanks, friends.
We are forever grateful for friends/family near and far who rally around us through all the seasons - good and bad.

(Also - if you want to join in on the new habits, let me know!)

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Purpose in Pandemic

There aren't great words in the midst of a pandemic.

Sometimes you want magical words to fix things.
To provide certainty in the midst of absolute uncertainty.
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.

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.

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. 

_________________________________

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. 

How and why did God create us? 

There was a purpose statement in the question that seemed meant for me in the moment. Debbie- why were you created? 

My heart ran through the list of possible answers: 

To be heard?

To be known? 

To be valued? 

To be right? 

To be wanted? 

To work at camp? 

To be a wife? A mom? 

To be healthy? Safe? 

To live in the mountains? 

To be comfortable? 

Quickly, the catechism responded: 

God created us male and female in his own image 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.

Too easily I forget the purpose for which I was created. 

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. 

The false narrative causes us to worry, to fear, to believe lies about our worth and our value. It causes us to think that this is all that matters. This 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... 

But here we can remember the purpose for which we were created. 

To know Him.

To love Him.

To live with Him. 

To glorify Him. 

Through anything, in anything... because of who God is and what He has done. Immanuel... God with us. 

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... 

But I do know one thing.

We are people created with purpose.

Don't forget that.

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...

Our purpose remains the same.

How and why did God create us?

To glorify Him.

In all things. All seasons. All circumstances. No.matter.what.

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 all things new. 

Not to us, but to God be all glory and honor and praise. 

“Worthy are you, our Lord and God,  
to receive glory and honor and power,
for you created all things,
    and by your will they existed and were created.”
- Revelation 4:11-

____________________________________________

And He is so 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. 

We don't know what is next. 
And that's okay. At least today. 

More musings will come, as we will have ample time to process, to reflect, and to share. 

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.

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Unpredictable Events

If you would have told me a year ago that in 2019 my mom would break her hip, that we'd work on a farm in Costa Rica, that I'd have a new job in Human Resources, that we'd have 22 chickens and take in a stray kitten, that a homeless woman would live with us, that my 2-year-old niece would be diagnosed with Leukemia (and that I'd work remotely from California for over a month as a result), that we'd be given a newborn to take care of for a third of the year, and that I'd finish my Master's degree...

I would have only partially believed you.  

But here we are... entering 2020 with an entire year of unpredictable events behind us, unsure of what this next year might hold. 

I've probably cried more in 2019 than I have in a while. 

I've definitely slept less. 

I've learned a lot. 

About God, but also about motherhood... and state laws, 401(k)s, health insurance, and leadership development.

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.

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.


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.

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.

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 know God and to know others more deeply.  It takes time, which is something else we are learning how to manage in new ways.

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!)

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.

All I know is that no year ever turns out how we think or hope it might.
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...

My goal and resolution is to press on to know the Lord, no matter what the future holds.

May I look different as a result. 

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