An Adventure that Comes with a Breath-Taking View

Today I am 37 years old! Every birthday I celebrate feels like a miracle and a victory, and is weighty proof of the Lord's mercy and faithfulness to me. I don't think he would allow me to see another year, another day, another hour or even another breath if he didn't have purpose in it - for me to learn and grow and see him more, and for me to get to play a role (no matter how big or small) in his kingdom work. 

I relate to the world and reflect on my experiences quite often through stories and songs - I make a playlist on Spotify each year to catalog my memories of what happened and how I felt, sort of a musical scrapbook or journal. There are so many songs - everything from Disney tunes to Switchfoot, to Drew Holcomb, to Kermit the Frog! But one song has been sticking around in the soundtrack of my life for the past couple years that I want to highlight today... 

From the first time I heard it in the movie, The Greatest Showman, the words to "Tightrope" jumped right out of the context of the movie and echoed the prayer of my heart to the Lord. You can hear the song and read the lyrics here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QmGJTtXE2Mo 

In the Christian community, we talk about our relationship with God like it's a "walk." And since I can't walk physically, I typically don't use that lingo because I can't relate. But oddly enough, I profoundly relate to this song's imagery of tightrope walking, when it comes to my faith journey! Over the past several years, I've found that life with God can be flat-out terrifying. 

I mean, it doesn't have to be... it can be pretty basic and calm, paved and level and (dare I say it?) boring - but only if that is all we want it to be. I believe God actually allows us to choose what that relationship looks like, to an extent. And if all we want is for him to bless our food, keep us safe, and get us through another day of our routine, then so be it... I believe this is true, because there was a time in my life when I begged him to back off and let me do things my own way, and He did. And I enjoyed it for about two minutes. I didn't feel free or in control at all - I felt weak, small and insignificant and so lonely without his hand in mine. 

He wants so much more for us - He wants to be so much more for us! And when I realized that, and said yes to him in a whole new way, my life was forever changed. 

So I said yes - yes to exploring new heights and depths of my faith, yes to discovering wild and amazing things about God and his heart, yes to true love and high adventure in whatever way he chose to give it. I wanted to experience a faith life that was on the excitement level of Indiana Jones! 

Except... have you seen what Indiana Jones went through?? Snakes, spiders, poison darts, cave-ins, exploding airplanes, and did I mention the snakes?? To have great adventure, I must accept the very real possibility of great risks... I may get hurt, I may fall, I may lose everything... I may not make it out alive. And I have to be ok with that, convinced that God's love is better than life, and that knowing Christ means becoming like him in his death. Giving him free range of the journey and committing to follow him into the Great Unknown means I literally have no idea where he'll take me, but it's probably not where I ever thought I'd go, and will very likely take me through places and seasons that I never wanted to see. 

But to experience adventure - the surpassing greatness of knowing Jesus as my Lord - requires courage to say yes. Not just an initial "yes" to receive forgiveness an salvation, but a daily yes - very often a "yes" for every new step I take. Because when He goes on an adventure, he takes my hand and invites me off the well-paved, fully-accessible path. He asks if I trust him with the road less traveled. And if I say yes to that, then he asks if I trust him in the dark where I cannot see. If I say yes to that, then he asks if I trust him on more perilous terrain, slippery rocks, sheer cliff faces, stormy seas, or a tightrope stretch out across the Grand Canyon. And every time I choose to trust him, he antis-up the risk, but also the pay-off - a breath-taking view of his grace and splendor that paralyzes me with wonder and awe and gives me the desire and courage to say yes to Him again. 

Just like every other year of my life, I have no idea what God has planned for the year ahead. I hope this year has more well-lit corridors and fewer snakes. I hope I experience more deep-breath victories on mountain tops and fewer moments of vertigo in looking down at the abyss below me. But whatever happens, I hope God will keep leading me by the hand and that I keep saying yes... Whatever happens, I want to continue this adventure with Him.

It's Your breath in my lungs...

I've written quite a bit over the years about breathing, and particularly my struggles to breathe. I've been reviewing some of my old posts, and I listed some of the links below, in case you want a review, too. The interesting thing to me is that most of these posts also include song lyrics - worshipful songs about air, breath, spirit and strength. Singing, to me, is a sort of joyful cry of victory against weakness and despair... it is the evidence of a Power deep inside me that is much greater than me.

Today I had my 6-month pulmonary check-up. I did the obligatory annual breathing test and let the doctor listen to my lungs. The conclusion was that my respiratory strength is the same as it was last year, and to me that was really wonderful news.  See, in the past year, I've had two surgeries in which I had to be intubated, and I was in the hospital with pneumonia only four months ago. I really expected that my strength would have weakened with all this drama.

When I originally talked with my neurologist about what Spinraza might do for me, she said, "At the very least, it should stop the progression of the disease." At the very least?? a disease that has slowly chipped away at my strength and health would be stopped?? Wow, what a miracle. I wonder if Spinraza is working to stabilize my lungs. I wonder how that happens, how protein injected in the spinal chord is able to do this, and I wonder what exactly "this" is that it's doing.

I wonder about science and research and medicine, and the mysterious role it might play in reversing bits and pieces of the curse of Sin... But I don't wonder about Jesus. If I am certain of anything, it is that He is my Strength and my Portion and my Song. He is the breath in my lungs, and I pour out my praise to him only.

Past posts about breathing:

Sept 15, 2011
Nov 1, 2011
Jan 25, 2012
April 8, 2012
April 27, 2012
June 21, 2013
Dec 5, 2017
Mar 2, 2018

I have this hope...

I had the privilege to go to a special luncheon last Saturday for local families of Spinraza patients. I met a man in his 50s who started taking Spinraza at about the same time I did, a mother whose 7-year-old daughter is on Spinraza, and a mother whose 3-year-old daughter was one of the earliest Spinraza patients. It was really wonderful to meet these people, hear their stories, and get to share my story with them.

The thing that brought us all together was Spinraza, and I know one of the main purposes for bringing us together was to talk about how great it is. And there is nothing wrong with that - I'm a big fan of this treatment, and I'm excited to see how it will help me and lots of other people. I am thrilled to know that young children with SMA now have the chance to develop their motor skills, and that adults with SMA can maintain and rebuild their strength. I am so thankful to know that Spinraza is just the beginning - it has opened doors and increased research opportunities for other treatments and possible cures to be discovered. It's a miracle, and it is changing lives all over the world.

But my hope is not in a drug called Spinraza. Long before an answer was found, long before the FDA approved it, long before doctors were able to conclude their diagnoses with: "...but a treatment is coming soon," I found peace and hope and joy. It came in the form of a relationship and a promise - and it didn't ignore my disease, but it also wasn't contingent upon it. I chose to take hold of it as a small child, but it's taken a lifetime to understand. I've wrestled with it, desperately clung to it, and almost lost it at times... it's stretched and grown and deepened, at about the same rate as my muscles have tightened, shrunk and atrophied.

No matter how small, weak, sick, or unable I am or become, Jesus is strong and constant and great and mighty to save me. He promised never to leave me and never to let me go, and after all the things we've been through together, I can't help but trust him. He promised that he knows and understands me fully, and when I read and remember all that he sacrificed and suffered for me, I know it is true. No matter what else changes in my life and my world, his promises stay the same. His love, mercy, and faithfulness to me has never, and will never fail - this is my hope! 

I'm thankful God has given me the chance to experience a treatment for my disease, and that I get to see his creativity, intelligence, and ingenuity through medicine and science. But whether or not Spinraza has any effect on my body, I know my life is purposeful and beautiful and valuable, because Jesus has saved me and made me whole.

Praying doctors

As usual, things were more complicated than expected with the surgery on Wednesday. The first big issue was getting an IV in me in pre-op. Historically, my little, unstable veins do cause problems with this, but very kind and skilled medical professionals with very high-tech equipment shouldn't be dealing with six failed attempts... and yet they did. I could almost swear my veins saw the needle coming and fled for shelter. 

So after all that, they decided to take me on back to the OR and give me some "laughing gas" - which at this point did not  make me laugh - and try again. As I faded in and out of semi-consciousness, I could tell they were still having trouble and I began to wonder what they would do if they couldn't get a vein. Then I heard the guy who was holding the mask on my face say, "Dear God, please let this work." And then another relieved voice said, "We got it! Guys, we're in!" That is the last thing I remember, and the last thought I had as I fell asleep was, I am so thankful for praying doctors. And I've been incredibly blessed to have quite a few of them this year. 

Apparently the tube had come completely out of the hole in my vertebrae, so I'm glad my neurologist had the good sense two weeks ago to not give me my next Spinraza dose. The surgeon did all he could think of to secure everything so we don't have to do this again - some sort of sealant, extra living tissue, and "tacked" the port in two places (whatever that means). The problem, it seems, is my muscles - they just aren't big enough and strong enough to create stability and provide support for this sort of thing. Ironic, since the point of all this is to be able to get a medicine that could change all that. 

I didn't have to spend the night at the hospital (yay!). I was there 12 hours, and after a cup of pudding and the doctor's approval, I got to come home and sleep in my own bed that night. So, I've been in bed most of the past three days, and plan to continue this until Monday. Praying for everything to heal as it should, and everything to stay in place!

A Decision to Live

I have been very disturbed this week, as I've read articles and watched interviews, regarding a lovely teen girl in Wisconsin who has chosen to end her own life... and thousands of people are praising her for being brave and strong. This girl has the same disease as I do - Spinal Muscular Atrophy, and has decided at the age of 14 that she doesn't want to deal with the pain and limitations anymore.

I don't know if this young lady has gotten wrong medical information, has poor role models, or is watching the wrong kinds of movies. But whatever has caused her to want to give up, it deeply breaks my heart. I want to sit with her, tell her my story - and Kevan's story, and Joni Eareckson Tada's story, and Nick Vujicic's story, for that matter! She is not alone in pain and weakness and weariness, and this is not the end of her story!

The crazy thing is, when I was 14, I was in the hospital with pneumonia and a collapsed lung, and the doctors told my parents I probably wouldn't make it. At that time, in the midst of incredible pain and weakness and feeling like I was slowly drowning, I could have very easily given up. The short term prognosis was bad, but the long term prognosis was worse - that it was very likely I would be hospitalized many times in my brief life. I had a critical decision to make then, and I chose to live. I was able to do it because of the hope and peace and strength Christ has given me.

I have had to make the decision between life and death countless times in the nearly 20 years that have passed since then - on hospital beds, on ventilators, and in my own bed at home. Choosing life is incredibly difficult sometimes. I wrestle with depression and frustration in my weakness and limits, and I battle with thoughts of being a burden on the people I love.

As a true follower of Jesus, that decision is more complicated than you might think! I often think about what heaven will be like - no more pain, no more weakness, no more limits! I'll get a new and improved body, and I can tell you right now that I will be unstoppable, making up for many years of missed-out activities like mountain climbing and scuba diving, and dancing - SO much dancing! Sometimes I get so homesick, its all I can do to not beg God to let me get there already.

But then... I remember that Jesus came so I could have life to the fullest (John 10:10), and that God commands me to choose life, that I and my family might live (Deut 30:19). He is the Author of Life, and the Giver of All Good Things. And he knows the good plans he has in store for me (Jeremiah 29:11). He knows the number of my days, and he has a perfect plan for each one. Why would I throw away his precious gift of life? Why would I give up and quit before his plan is fulfilled in me? That wouldn't be brave; that would be cowardly and selfish and the weakest thing I could do.

I've been thinking this week about all the incredible, beautiful moments I have experienced since I was 14 years old. In choosing to live, I rejected my own self-pity and all the easy excuses I could use to be worthless. I found true joy in life by doing hard things, taking risks, trusting people, and researching the best ways to care for this frail little body I've been given. Every morning, I chose to get out of bed and keep breathing, keep smiling, and keep moving. I choose to not let my disability rule over me, but defy every limitation in the name of Jesus, and with the help of amazing friends and family who love and support my choice, not just to exist but to truly live. My relationships have been so rich and full, because they've taught me to trust others and receive help, and they've taught my friends a whole new level of creativity, selflessness, strength of character, and love.

Choosing to live is a hard thing to do, but it is the very best thing. It is the only truly brave, amazing, praise-worthy thing to do. Every day is a new adventure, when I remember that I am not alone. Jesus is with me, to give me strength to live, and to carry me through my weakness. In him, I am limitless and strong.

Fountain of Life and Justice

"Look back therefore, rise to the heights, go to that place where once God hath spoken, and there thou wilt find the fountain of justice, where is the fountain of life. 'For with thee is the fountain of life' [Psalm 36:9]." - St Augustine

I love that St. Augustine says here that the fountain of life is found at the fountain of justice, which is found with God. That is very full of hope, when you really consider it. I look to God as the only true giver of justice and life - and he gives both perfectly and fully.

I've been thinking about this quote a lot this week, because it is used in a book by Elisabeth Elliott that Mom and I have been reading together on our road trip to Florida...

We drove to St. Augustine, FL, on Saturday. For all the times we've come to Florida, I've never visited "the oldest city in America." So, we did this time. We had an amazing dinner at The Columbia, an absolutely beautiful (and romantic!) Spanish restaurant in historic downtown. The next day, we did a trolley tour, bought some souvenirs, admired the peacocks, and visited the legendary Fountain of Youth, which Ponce de Leon is said to have discovered. It was rather anticlimactic, as the "Fountain" was merely a fresh water spring enclosed in a hut, which we drank from in little plastic cups. Not that I really thought it was magical, but I thought they'd at least try to make the experience more magical. At any rate, I decided I'd much rather drink from the Fountain of Life and Justice, than be forever young.

We went on down to Jupiter after that... which has been different, strange, and a bit sad, since it's the first time we've been here since Grandpa Jack passed away in October. But we know he drank from the Fountain of Life and Justice, so we choose to live fully and joyfully. We are staying in a hotel by the bridge, and spend most of our time on the beach, soaking in the sun. When we're not on the beach, we're eating the best seafood ever! We realized that we've been coming here so often (and it's Mom's hometown) that we can comfortably and confidently do things that the locals do - hang out at Dubois Park, eat at the Dune Dog, and wear our bathing suits everywhere. But since we don't live here, we can also have fun doing things that tourists do! We went on a boat tour around Jupiter Island, visited Palm Beach Gardens, and had conch fritters and pina coladas on the boat dock at the Rustic Inn Crab House. Our hotel is pet-friendly, so we've met a lot of really cute dogs here... and apparently it's the beginning of spring training in the baseball world, so we're surrounded by plenty of St. Louis Cardinals fans!

Tuesday we went down to Fort Lauderdale to visit the Perrys... our dear friends whom I've known my whole life and who have always lived out loving ministry in a very authentic way. We had a charming tea party of M&M cookies and tea (Sprite, for the kids), and I got to be the honorary "auntie" to Rachel and Linda's kids - seven little ones, and counting! A few hours at the Perry house is refreshing and restorative to the soul. I really believe the Fountain of Life and Justice flows freely and generously there.

That evening, my wheelchair hit its 1700 mile marker. When it happened, I was talking to a friend from Indiana who had just attended the funeral of a boy that was in our youth program. Such a tragic story, full of so much in-justice and un-life. It's hard to find joy and hope in those moments. Even in the midst of such a fun and memorable week, this has been a shadow over my heart, as I grieved for the families and wished I could be there to comfort and offer ...something. But what could I say or do?

Remember that book I mentioned earlier, that Mom and I were reading? The one with the cool St. Augustine quote? Well, the title of the book is, "Trusting God in a Twisted World." She talks a lot about death and other things that cause us to ask God "Why?". Really good thoughts and reflections, but I just keep coming back to that St. Augustine quote... and there's a fountain right outside of our hotel that brings it to mind too. Fountains are refreshing springs that never run dry, never get tired, never stop giving. And when I find myself again and again faced with tragedies in this world that is so twisted by injustice and the curse of death, the only thing I can do is trust the Lord, and run back to that Fountain that sustains me. And he is my joy, my life, my strength forever.

The Superfruit of the Spirit

Recently at my home church, we've been studying the "Fruit of the Spirit," as it is laid out in Galatians 5:22-23 - love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. We've been learning how Christ is the perfect example of all of these attributes, and how our lives will bear this good fruit in an authentic way when we abide in Him, and submit ourselves to the leading of the Holy Spirit.

In my personal Bible study time, I've been doing a word study, with the term "grace." I decided I wanted to really understand this word on a deeper and richer level than ever before. I could tell you what grace is not. Grace is not an afterthought, and it is not a free pass. And I could tell you the definition of grace - getting something good that we don't deserve. But I want to become more knowledgeable and more passionate about what grace is - its essence and significance. 

In the Old Testament, it seems like grace is something that is asked for, found, and bestowed. (Yes! There is amazing grace in the Old Testament!) In John 1, grace is embodied in Jesus himself. In Acts, grace is the evidence of the powerful work of the Holy Spirit in the evangelists and early believers.

But this week, I was reading the mentions of grace in Romans 5, and it hit me: Grace is the Superfruit of the Spirit! Check this out:

"But the gift is not like the trespass. For if the many died by the trespass of the one man, how much more did God’s grace and the gift that came by the grace of the one man, Jesus Christ, overflow to the many! Nor can the gift of God be compared with the result of one man’s sin: The judgment followed one sin and brought condemnation, but the gift followed many trespasses and brought justification. For if, by the trespass of the one man, death reigned through that one man, how much more will those who receive God’s abundant provision of grace and of the gift of righteousness reign in life through the one man, Jesus Christ!

The law was brought in so that the trespass might increase. But where sin increased, grace increased all the more, so that, just as sin reigned in death,so also grace might reign through righteousness to bring eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord."
In the "health and nutrition" realm, basically all fruit is good for you in some way. But some fruits are labeled "superfruits," because they are abundant with many really great things your body needs, like antioxidants, vitamins, and minerals... things that will help you live a longer, stronger, healthier, happier life. You may not even realize that some of your favorite fruits are considered superfruits - like apples and bananas! 

With that in mind, I realized that even though "grace" is not listed in the famous Fruit of the Spirit list, it is all over that list! Grace happens through and because of love, it brings joy and peace, it is so often synonymous with patience and kindness, it is given out of goodness and gentleness, it is a discipline that is produced from faithfulness and self-control. 

It is so powerful that it conquers the curse of sin! It is the key to salvation! It is a gift that God freely and abundantly gives to us. It fills us and empowers us to do amazing things. It is meant to overflow from our lives to others, in our speech, attitudes, and actions. 

When we bear the fruit of grace in our lives, it is the greatest, most powerful testimony of salvation, redemption, and transformation that others can see. And it is so crazy, so supernatural, that it cannot be credited to anyone or anything but Jesus. 

Making upside-downers, Part 2: Greatness

Some laws of nature seem upside-down to me: 

What goes up, must come down. 

For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. 

Opposites attract. 

So it should make sense that the Creator of these laws of nature would be consistent in the laws of Life-As-It-Was-Meant-To-Be. To us, Jesus' teachings seem upside-down... but what if he is teaching was it right-side-up, and we're the ones who are living upside-down? 

Here's another teaching that is hard to grasp - Matthew 20:26-27: "But whoever would be great among you must be your servant, and whoever would be first among you must be your slave." 

Upside-down philosophy #2: If you want true greatness, become the least.

Jesus made a point of lifting up the humble and bringing down the proud, during his whole ministry. And in Philippians 2, we read about how Jesus stepped down from greatness and "made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant." So I think that once again, He meant what he said, and seriously wants his disciples to obey.

Confession: I want to be great. I want to be special, and I want my life to matter. I don't care about being a queen or president or award winner, but I want to go down in the history books as someone who did something exciting and significant to change the world. But when I read the stories of the people in history who I respect the most, I don't think "greatness" was a priority for them. In fact, many of them walked away from greatness or chose against greatness, to become servants and risk being anonymous forever. And frankly, I don't like that idea! I don't mind serving people, but I want it to mean something - I want people to see it and remember it.

It seems like, lately, all my attempts to pursue my own dreams of greatness have been squashed by God. I think, "Surely this isn't where I'll stay, this isn't what I'll do, this isn't my life's work forever, is it?" It's not dreadful, but it certainly isn't glamorous or exciting either. But I think every time I feel sorry for myself, and look around and try to find my own great story, God is reminding me that this is where he wants me right now; this is where I'm learning to be a servant, the last, the anonymous faithful disciple that he calls me to be. And until I surrender and submit to that, I will not experience true greatness.

Jesus' teaching is not just about my actions, but about my whole mindset - I need my mind to be transformed and renewed, so that I serve people because I love Jesus, not because I'm seeking praise or recognition. If I have nothing but Jesus (refer to philosophy #1), then he is the only one I should be seeking to please. He's slowly cutting down my field of vision when it comes to my motives - it is not about history or the future, it is not about what my friends think, or the general public, or scholars, or my posterity. It is all about Him - following him, obeying him, and serving and loving those He loves. It is about choosing Him in this moment, for the sake of eternity.

True greatness goes beyond the history books, and can only be found in Christ. As John the Baptist said, "He must increase, and I must decrease." More of you, and less of me, Lord. Teach me how to be a servant today, and to put myself last, so that you are the first in my life. 

Making upside-downers, Part 1: Treasures

Have you ever thought about how hard the Great Commission is to obey? Jesus told us to "make disciples." Disciples are actually students and apprentices, people who learn the teachings and study closely the ways of someone whom they want to be more like.

It's easy to make converts - walk someone through the ABCs of salvation and a "sinner's prayer" and congratulate them on knowing their sins are forgiven and that they will go to heaven some day, and send them on their light-hearted way. But to make disciples, you've got to walk through the details of the time between that prayer and their last breath... and the more I study Jesus' life, and the lives of people who were truly his disciples throughout history, the more I find pain, persecution, loneliness, and loss. And that is hard to convince people to willingly step into! Except... these difficult lives are the most powerful, beautiful, inspiring, adventurous, passionate, remarkable lives ever lived.

Because Jesus' teachings and his life are dizzyingly and terrifyingly upside-down.

Let's consider just one of his teachings: Mark 10:17-21. "Go and sell all your possessions and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me." 
Upside-down philosophy #1: If you want true treasure, sell everything you have.

This goes against everything we learn in this world! To give away your valuables makes you look foolish and weak. The more you have, the more power and respect and success you have. And the more of that you have, the happier you will be.

It's easy to dismiss this philosophy as being Jesus' call to just one person. But I notice that it was a pattern in his ministry: some left their nets, some left their tax collecting booths, some left their families. Jesus was poor himself. And his disciples throughout history have all had to give up the things that were valuable and precious to them in this life.

And what I've experienced in my own life is that this is a constant refining process - a daily sacrifice. Here's how it goes: I tell God that I want more of him, that I want his treasure above all else. So he points out something in my life that I value too much, and he tells me to let it go - in fact, to sell it so I can't take it back - in fact, to sell it and use whatever I gain in its place to benefit others. So I naturally have a temper-tantrum and say that I don't want to, and he reminds me that I already said I did want to, and after much whining and fighting, I do what he asks, because he is right. Then just as I start to feel good about what a great disciple I am, he points out something else. And the struggle happens all over again, as he slowly chisels and burns away my earthy treasures.

I'm pretty sure I didn't take Jesus seriously in the beginning of our relationship when he said, "sell EVERYTHING." But he did mean it, and if I am committed to being his disciple - his upside-downer - then he will make sure I sell everything I have, even if it is only one thing at a time and takes my whole life to accomplish. He is so patient with me. He knows this is a difficult teaching to carry out, a mission not for the faint of heart. And he knows I cannot possibly do it without his help.

The Bible says that the poor "rich" man went away from Jesus, and he was sad. He had so much to lose, and when he counted the cost, he decided the price was too steep. Other people walked away from Jesus, too, when his upside-down philosophies became too much. And many people still do. And when I think of some of the things He has asked me to give up, my heart still aches and sometimes I wonder why I continue to follow and sell and sacrifice... But my soul reminds me, through those beautiful words of Peter, of the truth that I know beyond anything else:

Lord, to whom could I possibly go? Only You have the words of life. If I have nothing else in the world - when you have taken everything away, and it is all sold - You are sufficient. You are my treasure.

Special, but the same

The past few posts are some thoughts I've had and insights I've gained over the past few years regarding ministry with international people. As you can read about, there are some special details to consider and be sensitive to as you seek to relate to people from other countries, other cultures, other world views. There are special ways to approach these relationships, and ways to train and equip yourself to respond well and have effective communication.

The same is true in any ministry you invest in. Youth workers know that each new generation of teens and pre-teens comes with its own unique basket of issues that need to be researched, studied, and committed to prayer. People who serve in disability ministry develop a heightened sense of awareness when it comes to physical and social accessibility and care. Those who choose to live in community with people in poverty learn a different perspective on money, opportunity, and social justice. You may be in prison ministry, college ministry, gang ministry, or pre-school ministry. Wherever you are, whatever your "niche" is, there are special realities, special dialects, special approaches to building bridges with the people who you want to love and serve for Christ's sake.

But here's something I've realized: Wherever you serve, people are people, and at our core (where it matters most), we are all the same. We all desire dignity, purpose, and to know that we are loved unconditionally. We should treat every human life as valuable, and we should seek to learn and understand beyond our own assumptions and agendas.

Consider Jesus' ministry. He connected with people who were poor and rich, young and old, the outcasts and the in-crowd, wise and foolish, religious and criminal, men and women, foreigners and hometown boys, the sick, the disabled, even the dead. He didn't have a "niche" - he just saw people as people who were starving for hope and thirsty for life.

Now, he didn't ignore their distinctions; he addressed them directly, and on more than one occasion waited for the person to own up to it themselves (consider the bleeding woman, the Samaritan woman, the blind man, etc.), because what made them different DID matter. It mattered where and how the bridges were built. He never rejected the opportunity to connect with someone, but he wouldn't put mud on the eyes of the paralyzed man on the stretcher, or tell the poor widow to go away and sell all she had!

But in every single situation, a custom-made bridge was built, and wherever the bridge began, it ended at the same place: Jesus met the person where they were, and led them to the Father.

So build bridges. Seek to understand, humble your attitude, find a common ground, extend a hand of true compassion, wash some dusty feet. And continue to walk along that bridge in the direction of the God who loves us all - who made us all special, and yet the same.

The Doubtful One

I was listening to the new album by The Collection - "Ars Moriendi" - today... it's probably one of the most powerful albums I have ever listened to, lyrically and musically... the kind that only comes out of a lot of pain and brokenness and healing and joy and peace. One of my favorite songs on it is "The Doubtful One," and I wanted to share some of the lyrics with you today on my blog. I hope you will download the song (or the whole album) to get the full effect, but this is just a sample of the honesty and heart that reminds me so much of the psalmist, King David...

"Oh brother Thomas, did you walk away from Jesus,
wondering if it was all a dream?
Did all your doubts creep back and tell you that your fingers
hadn't ever touched a single thing?

'Cause I have read that story so many times,
when You healed that man and he could see perfectly again.
But in between, it reads that all he saw were men as trees
and that's all that seems to cloud my vision...

'Cause all the friends I know, have never ever heard You speak,
and I know that when You speak it brings up Life.
So would You, pretty please, come speak to all of them and me,
Growing us collectively into Your wife?

So lead me to the mountain, write it out on the stone tablets,
What it is that You decide is Truth.
But I think I want my hands to bleed from loving, not from condemning
Isn't Love what He would have us do?

Cuz all my friends and I, we have stolen, we have lied, and
We have looked upon each other full of lust.
But You carried Your cross when You knew that I was lost,
So I know that You can carry all of us."

Disability is not the end!

I learned some things about myself this year, and one of them is that I have a physical disability that greatly affects the way I live. Some of you who know me are probably pretty confused right now. You're thinking, "Connie, you've been in a wheelchair for most of your life... You were diagnosed with Spinal Muscular Atrophy when you were a baby. What are you talking about?" 

But see, I haven't lived like I have a disability. I went to a public school and a liberal arts college and got a regular job for a while... then I became a missionary, moved away from home, traveled the country, and did everything I possibly could without much thought of my limits. Sure, I had to hire some people to do some things for me along the way, I've had to use ramps to get in places, and a wheelchair to move around; I've also had the wretched inconvenience of hospital stays and breathing equipment. But these things all were strangely detached, like they didn't have anything in common. I can't walk, I can't cook, I can't breathe all that well, and I can't fix my hair. But I am a pretty optimistic person, and I'm quick to list off all the things I can do - like write stories and teach and play games and go for long rides by myself on the river greenway. And I was convinced that God would use me to his glory, in spite of my weakness, not because of it. 

But at 30 years old, it suddenly hit me that I was disabled - that I had an incurable, progressive disease that would keep taking and taking my strength and independence from me, making my life harder and harder to bear, and that it was not going to get easier or better. I would need more medicine, more equipment, more personal care... I also realized that doctors look at my disease and expect that my life will be shorter than the average American woman... and all this affects my relationships, the urgency I feel in ministry, and my hopes and dreams for my future. And while these are things I probably should have slowly digested over 30 years of life, I kind of just swallowed it all whole, and the weight of it crippled my spirit. 

I had the opportunity to go out to California this summer, and decided that while I was there, I wanted to try to meet Joni Eareckson Tada. She has been someone who I have admired since I was a little girl, and I've always been excited to read her books, hear her speak, and follow the growth of her ministry, Joni and Friends. But now things were different. All I really wanted to do was sit next to her and ask, "Joni, how do you do it?" Not in rhetorical awe, but as a genuine question that begs for a real answer. How do you live with such passion and hope in the midst of such a maddening disability that only gets worse? How do you hang on faithfully in this life when you know heaven is going to be infinitely better?  

I didn't get to meet Joni. I didn't get to ask her my question. But I did get to visit Joni and Friends, and sit in the chapel room where she sings, and read the Scriptures on the walls, and shake hands with her husband, Ken. I got to hear and see how Joni's disability has given her a new perspective on God's kingdom, and how He has done great and mighty things in this world because she is disabled. Paul's words have new meaning when I put them in the context of all I experienced that day in California - "Now I am glad to boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may work through me." 

Disability is not the end of hope - it is the beginning. If I was whole and healthy and perfect, I would have no need for hope. But when I realize my weakness, my helplessness, and my need, it must lead me to look up and see that the fullness of my strength, power, and ever-present help is in Jesus. And he will not fail me, and his work is not finished in me yet.

Balloons

Inspired by a conversation with my good friend Mandy...

Balloons
So beautiful in color
So magical and
Full of joy and hope.

And I try to hold on
But one by one
They pull away
And float out of reach
I grasp and clutch
But can't keep them here.

"Let them go," my Father says.
"They are beautiful but
They are not eternal,
They are magical but
They are just full of air.

"Don't hold on so tight
Don't try so hard.
I am the balloon you need!
I am bigger and stronger
And I will hold you -
I will lift you up
And carry you by my grace.
Watch and see where we will go together!"

Do you believe that Jesus loves you?

I got to see the Ragamuffin movie this weekend. It's the story of Rich Mullins life - a life that I was too young to remember or appreciate in real time, but also a life that has strongly impacted me in the past 15 years. I highly recommend the movie to... yeah, everyone. It's gonna be on DVD in Walmart for a limited time next month. 

I basically cried through the whole movie, not because it was sad, but because so much of it resonated with me. My friend Pam and I were talking about it last night, and wondering about the paradox of his message that was so simple and so difficult: Believe that Jesus really does love you - he even likes you. If that is all the gospel is, then it sounds really simple. Just believe he loves you! But "knowing" and "believing" are two different things, and when you zoom in and look closely at how that belief plays itself out in life, it is so difficult. Confession: it is amazingly, ridiculously hard to believe Jesus loves me when I face each day with pain and weakness and dependency on people for tedious and critical things all day long, and lies constantly trying to attack my mind about loneliness and the limits and conditions of love.  And I'm sure you have things in your life too that make it hard to believe He loves you. It would be easier to believe if everything was perfect and right in the world, but I think He wants us to believe it regardless of what happens to us and around us. His love isn't contingent on anything except His steadfast, unchanging character. It's a truth that is slippery - hard to hold on to, hard to really grasp. But in the workout it is to try to grasp it, I think we become stronger and steadier in our identity as his children. 

Pam asked, "If it is so hard for us to believe in His love, what hope do we have of helping others believe it?" And I have been struggling with that question today. It certainly changes the concept of evangelism for me. "Just believe Jesus loves you" starts to sound in my head like a munchkin voice saying "Follow the yellow brick road!" At first, the yellow brick road is obvious and simple, so confidence rises as the traveller repeats the instructions - oh I can do this! And then the road gets confusing and dangerous, and things off the path are distracting and more exciting, and before you know it, the basic instructions are difficult to remember and follow and believe in.  But the instructions haven't changed - the truth stays the same. 

I don't think anyone who initially chooses to believe in Christ's love has any idea how hard it will be to keep believing. But the incredible thing is that at the same time, no one has any idea how beautiful and powerful and overwhelming it is when we do. We just need to choose to take that first step of belief, and then the next, and then the next... and let Him take us deeper and deeper into the understanding of his love for us.

The Opposite of Fear

Week 4 of fasting from my plans, and today the message from Ruth 3:18 and Philippians 3:20 for me is "wait." Wait for what? What for the Lord. To do what? Just... wait for him. But what am I waiting on him for? Nothing but himself. He's all I need, so my waiting, hoping, and expecting needs to simply be for him... Ok, Father, today I'll wait...

I've been thinking about fear this week... and how my sin is often rooted in fear. And do you know that the Bible commands - commands - me to not fear, not be afraid, and fear not, over 100 times? So, fear is a sin, and apparently one that is common enough and serious enough that God reminds us over and over again to just not do it. And I think one reason for that is that fear has a lot of power to cut us down, cripple us, and make us forget who we are. It's a stronghold that has a very... strong hold.

So what's the opposite of fear? If I choose not to fear, if I give my fears to God and sacrifice them on the altar of my heart, what will replace it? One of my craziest fears is that if I let go of my fear, I'll not have anything left... but I know this is a lie, because God never leaves a void in us. Emptiness is meant to be filled by him. So... how does he fill the newly-vacant throne of fear? Crazy enough, the words that came to my mind were the titles of the stories I recently posted: Joy, Trust, Hope, Grace, and Peace. Aren't each of these the opposite of Fear? I also think of Courage and Freedom (so maybe I should write a couple more stories?).

So this week I feel like my prayers are stronger... instead of just asking God to wrench fear from my hands, I've been asking him for an exchange - my fears for his hope; my fears for his joy, my fears for his peace... It seems like an unfair trade, but his resources are endless and he is so generous, I don't think he minds. In fact, I get the feeling he is pleased... And guess what is starting to fill up my heart?!

coffee pots, broken spells, and fasting from my plans

It's a classic rainy day in Fort Wayne. The raindrops pattering on the windowsill sound to me like a percolating coffee pot, and the swish of water under the tires of cars passing my house on Columbia Ave sounds to me like the magic sound effects on "Once Upon a Time" - the sound of a curse being lifted... sounds of everyday enchantment. Today is Thursday, my day to be alone at home and do things that are quiet. I want to sit by the window and write poetry, or curl up in a blanket on the couch and take a long catnap. But I need to grade papers today. But not quite yet... right now, I need a minute to listen to coffee percolating and spells breaking. And I need a minute to be still and quiet before the LORD.

I am trying out this discipline of going six weeks without trying to figure out my life - sort of a fast from making my own plans. I'm on week three, day 18, and it's tough. It seems backward, I know - normally people will take a set amount of time to pray and fast to seek direction and guidance. But I'm a planner by nature, and am much happier when I know what is happening and what to expect and what I should do... and I've been restless and anxious for the past eight months because I have no idea. I've been given some suggestions, and have some ideas of my own, but haven't been able to make any decisions or received any solid answers. And it is driving. me. crazy.

And I realized how much this reveals about my lack of faith in God. I want him to tell me things and show me things, and he really just wants me to sit in the backseat, enjoy the ride, and let him drive. So that's what this six weeks is about - just practicing the discipline of trusting God. That means when I read the Bible, I'm not combing the text for clues to answers I want; it means when I pray, I worship instead of complaining about how confused I am; it means I spend my personal reflection time on all the ways he has been faithful and trustworthy in my life so far, instead of worrying about how he'll be faithful tomorrow and six months from now.

It's hard to not plan and not know - it's a part of my brain I have become so aware of because I have to keep going back and telling it to calm down and take a break. But I think this is what is necessary in this season of my life... and I'd be so grateful for your prayers during this time.

"Wait for the LORD; be strong and take heart, and wait for the LORD." - Psalm 27:14

"Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your path straight." - Proverbs 3:5-6

"This is not dead!"

"If thou could'st empty all thyself of self,
Like to a shell, dishabited,
Then might He find thee on the ocean shelf, 
And say, 'This is not dead,'
And fill thee with Himself instead..." 

I read this in a book recently, and have been pondering it most of today. I find it hard to empty all of myself of self... just when I think I have accomplished it, I find more "self" that has to go. And the wrestling match begins again. Because getting rid of self is so very unnatural, and it feels like if I throw it out, there will be nothing left of me, and I will die. Self-preservation instincts kick in, and my mind and heart strain against the truth that there will be nothing left of me, and that is the point. That is the point! If I want Jesus to be the Lord of my life, then I need to get out of the way; He must increase into everything, and I must decrease into nothingness.

And that is not just a one-time prayer deal, when I can say some magic words and be done with all of me and filled with all of him in the blink of an eye. It's a commitment to a daily journey... it's giving permission to God himself to recreate me. But I'm such a sinful mess, that for him to recreate me, he has to break me first - weed out bad roots and demolish strongholds. I can't empty myself of my self. All I can do is release control while He digs deep and pries self out of me, like a bad tooth or like rusty nails out of a plank of wood. It's hard - it hurts, and it is not fun, to say the least. And sometimes I wonder why I gave Him permission to do this in my life... it doesn't make for a great sales pitch for a missionary girl to give to those she loves.

And then I remember what he is doing in me: He's cleaning me out, making me new, making me more like himself, preparing me to be able to know him more and deeper. When I am empty, I will not be dead, because He doesn't leave me as a dishabited shell - He fills me with His grace, mercy, peace, joy, and hope. The truth that he is taking all this time and attention to set me free and bring us closer together is amazingly profound... His love is amazingly profound! I know that he doesn't delight in making me bleed... I think he cries as much as I cry. But He can also see what lies beyond the pain, and he squeezes my hand and tells me to hold on, because something really beautiful is ahead. I don't know what it is, but I trust him.

Grace (Part 5)

Violet rested that night at the wizard’s cottage, and the next day, after he had supplied her with provisions and instructions for her journey, she set out to return to the Great Castle. The road did not seem so long, for Violet’s curiosity and hope quickened her pace and gave her new energy. Before she knew it, she was being ushered in to the throne room, where she saw before her, in all his glory and splendor, the Great King.

“Lady Violet, I am glad you have come. Welcome home,” he said, his voice soft with emotion.

“Your Majesty,” she bowed, but could think of nothing to say. So she stayed bent low and silent.

“You have been very busy, I hear!” he continued gently. “You have been a nanny, barber, cook, gardener, baker, librarian, and teacher, and have filled a number of civil service roles that have made my kingdom a better place.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” she replied, still bowed down.

“And though it is all good, you still feel an emptiness inside.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“That is because you were not asking the right question. Your life is not about who you are, but whose you are. You have lived in my castle for many years, and you have not caused any trouble, and kept your room clean and orderly, and been a very proper lady. But you have never come down to feast at my table, or attended any of my balls, which I have held in honor of you. My dear, you are my daughter – the Princess Violet Grace. You are the fairest maiden in all the land and heiress of the Great Kingdom and all the realms beyond.”

Violet’s heart nearly stopped at these words, declared over her so powerfully and with such confidence. She knew she was of noble blood, but a princess- the princess? The daughter of the Great King? And the Heiress? What could it possibly mean?

As though he knew her heart, the Great King laughed out loud, and said, “It means that you are my little girl! All I have is yours – freely and forever! You can do anything and everything that fills your heart with joy, but now you know that you have my blessing and authority in those things: You can plant seeds and design gardens, rather than just water them; you can write books, rather than just read them; you can adopt orphans and bring them home, rather than just feed them. And you can do so much more! – proclaim freedom for captives, bind up the brokenhearted, carry light into dark places! Go everywhere you desire, and always tell whoever you meet whose you are – you are my daughter. And who am I?” He smiled a huge smile that lit up his face, and he leaned over to touch Violet’s cheek and lift her head. “Now, that is a much better question to ask! For if you know who I am, you will come to know who you are. Spend time with me, sit beside me at my table to eat, dance with me at my balls, and you will learn more of me – and in so doing, you will become more and more who you were created to be.”

And so every day, Violet spent time with her Father. They ate together and danced together and hosted the most marvelous parties at the Great Castle together. And he went with her to the nursery, the kitchen, and the gardens to work alongside her and teach her more. He made bread with her at the bakery, read books with her at the library, and visited the children she’d met at the school house. They traveled together to the Elvish colony, the Great Forest, the Realms Beyond, and the cottage of old Uncle Judd. And in the evenings, they had tea together with Loyala on that favorite window seat and watched the magnificent sunsets.

Everything that Violet did became more beautiful, more graceful, and more powerful than before. The more she knew the King, the more she knew herself, and as a reflection of him and the daughter of him, she was made complete.

And she lived fully, ever after. 

Grace (Part 4)

“Are you a wizard?” Violet asked in wonder.

The old man smiled as he poured the tea. “I certainly am… the Good Wizard, in fact, and friend and faithful servant of the Great King. But-” he handed a steaming cup to his guest, “you may call me Judson – no! Uncle Judd. Because no one else does.”

“Uncle… Judd?” she tried out the name cautiously as she studied the cup that fit so comfortably in her hand. “You have the very same tea set that I had back at the castle.”

“Oh, really?” the wizard tried to act surprised, but used a tone that revealed that he was not surprised at all. “I collect tea cups on all my travels, and the Great King gave that one to me as a gift long ago. I thought it might comfort you to hold a little reminder of home, my lady.”

“Home…” Violet murmured as she breathed in the familiar scent of jasmine. “I’m not sure what that really means. I don’t really know where I belong, though I have been trying- wait, how do you know who I am? And why were you expecting me?”

“Why, the Great King told me about you! He said you were heading my way and could use a place to rest. Sugar or honey?”

“The Great King! He knows me and where I am… and even what I need? But I have been gone for so long, and I am nothing really special, so I don’t know why he would miss me…”

“Nothing special! Oh dear, this is more serious than I thought…” the wizard’s eyebrows knitted together and he frowned with concern into his cup of tea. “You really don’t know who you are, do you?”

Violet blinked back tears and took a sip of tea. “I’m working through that… trying to figure it out… processing it all, you see?”

“I see,” said the wizard carefully. “And how is it coming along?”

Violet’s tears splashed into her tea and she sniffled. “I’m so tired… and I feel so alone, and I want to go home, but I don’t know where that is or what I will do with myself when I get there.”

“But my lady, your home is the Great Castle-”

“But for years I have lived at the castle, and sewed, knitted, read books, drank tea, and kept my private rooms in order, because that is what a good girl of noble blood does – I acted like a Lady because that was what I was supposed to do. And everything I do makes me happy, but I never feel fulfilled. And I don’t want to just live happily – I want to live fully. But I have been everywhere and seen everything and tried everything, and nothing truly satisfies, so I am afraid that ‘happily ever after’ is all I will ever know…”

Uncle Judd cleared his throat and rubbed his bald head nervously, as he was not accustomed to comforting weeping young women. But he reached into his pocket and drew out a small envelope. “This is for you,” he said and handed the card to Violet.

She opened it and found a card inside that simply said:

Violet,

Please come home and see me.

~ Your loving King

“I think,” Uncle Judd said slowly, “that if you obey the King, all your questions will be answered.”

Grace (Part 3)

Over the next few days, Violet learned how to weed the vegetable garden, harvest the fruit from the orchards, and prune the King’s famous golden roses. Every plant she tended grew and blossomed, and what she didn’t realize was that she was inching further and further away from the castle every day.

“Maybe this is who I am?” she pondered with Loyala one evening. They were sitting on her favorite window seat, admiring the sunset over the kingdom in crimson, lemon, and golden hues.

“Maybe…” Loyala said thoughtfully, “but the world is a very big place. Maybe you should explore it more, and seek who you are in the Great Kingdom Beyond.”

And so, the next morning, Violet took a small bag of belongings and left the castle. She found a job in the village nearby at a bakery, where she learned all about how to bake bread and craft delicious pastries. Then she spent some time helping the local librarian organize and catalogue a mound of musty ancient books. Then she substituted for the school master while he went on a six-week quest of research, assigned by the Great King.

Violet became more brave and adventurous, and as time passed, she went even further away – caring for orphans in the Elvish colony, clearing paths in the Great Forest, and making dresses for duchesses in other realms. Even then, everything she put her hand to brought delight to Violet’s heart and blessings to others. But when she was alone at night, she would drink her tea and search the dim eastern horizon for a glimpse of the Great Castle, and wondered, “Is any of this who I am meant to be? Who am I?”

After weeks and months of traveling, working, trying, and wondering about her identity and purpose, Violet was weary and frustrated. She could not understand how she could enjoy so many things but at the same time feel like she didn’t belong in any of it. She came upon a cottage in the forest, and decided maybe it was time for her to stop searching and rest a while.

As she approached the door and before she could knock, an elderly man with a bald head and long, white beard opened the door and exclaimed, “There you are, Violet! And not a moment too soon! The kettle has just started to whistle. Come in, come in, for a cup of tea!”

Violet did not know what to think of this greeting. She was sure she had never met this person before, and was nearly as certain that she had never planned or been invited to have tea at his house. But he was so warm and welcoming, and the idea of tea time was so pleasing, that it seemed very natural to go inside the wide open door. The room was rather dim, lit by several tall candles on stands and shelves, because there were no windows at all. There were cabinets full of crystal bottles that were corked and carefully labeled, and when Violet looked closer, she saw that they were everything from “Raspberry Cordial,” to “Iocane Powder,” to “Pixie Dust.” Beside the cabinet was a bookcase stuffed with fat textbooks, the titles of which were as peculiar to Violet as the labels on the bottles: How to Transform Bad into Good, The Joy of Potion-Making, and The Particular Recipes of the Great King.