A Different Kind of Love

Hello, friends.

As my daughter keeps reminding me, we're coming up on our second anniversary. She came to live with me on April 18th, 2016. She's much more of a planner than I am. "What are we going to do to celebrate?" Um, I don't know, that's still several months away, child...

Anyway, it's been about a year and a half since I first met my foster daughter. She's a joy and a terror, like I imagine most daughters are. (Pretty sure my parents would attest to that fact.) She's grown and matured an incredible amount since we met, but she's still, well, herself. And herself is enough to drive me mad at times.

Case in point: today, I asked her to clean her room. I managed to clean almost the entire rest of the house while she managed to clean almost nothing in her room. At about seven o'clock, I gave her two options: she could take the next hour and do some more work in her room, or she could have free time until it was time to shower, with the caveat that she would finish cleaning her room tomorrow AND help me clean the garage, thus having almost no free time at all tomorrow. She chose the latter, for reasons that I still don't really understand. Except I do, because I understand her. She can't see past the immediate future. She's just not ready for that kind of thinking yet.

Recently, a parent at church has been pushing me to discipline my daughter more. He's someone I know pretty well and have a lot of respect for, but it still irritates me, because he doesn't know our situation like I do. I feel like I discipline my daughter too much, that all I do is yell and give orders. She knows that I love her, but sometimes I feel like I don't show it very well. She requires a different kind of discipline and a different kind of love than this other parents' kids do. He means well, but he's irritating just the same.

At Midweek School this past Wednesday, I had three kids behave so badly in class that their teachers sent them to my office, saying they weren't allowed to come back that day. All three kids are related to one another. It's easy to get annoyed with them - this isn't the first time I've had them in my office, and no matter what we do or say to them, they just keep acting up. They're disrespectful. They don't listen. They think it's funny when their teachers send them out.

They drive me nuts, but my experience with my own daughter tells me that there's more to this story, and it's worth my time to learn it. These kids require a different kind of discipline and a different kind of love than the other Midweek kids do - and that's okay. It's my job as the DCE to work with their parents and figure out how to help these kids succeed. Despite everything, they're just kids. I won't give up on them just because they talk back to me. And I won't judge them without knowing them.

Public Service Announcement

Hello, friends. I'd like to make a public service announcement, so bear with me.

Unfortunately, but unsurprisingly, more sexual abuse/harassment allegations have come to light this week. I have no inside knowledge of any of these allegations, obviously, but I want to make something clear: just because something seems to be announced at a convenient time doesn't mean it's not true. It also doesn't mean that it is true. The important thing to remember here is that the majority of sexual assault cases go unreported. Approximately two out of every three victims don't report the crimes committed against them, and every time a victim comes forward and we accuse him or her of lying, another victim decides not to say anything, because they assume they won't be believed.

Some people lie about being assaulted. Far more people don't tell anyone, and their abusers have more opportunities to abuse other people. So no matter what the circumstances may look like, it's vital for us to give everyone who comes forward a fair hearing and a chance at justice.

This has become more personal for me in the past several years, first because of my short-lived position at a residential treatment center, then because of my involvement with the Children's Home Society in Tallahassee, and most recently, because of my vocation as a foster parent. In each of these situations I have encountered young people who have been abused. I can only imagine what the consequences would have been had those young people come forward with their stories and been shut down.

I suppose my point is this: don't assume, and show compassion.

Disney Reflections

Hello, friends. Today I was listening to "Reflection" from Mulan in the car. (I would lie and say I only listen to Disney music because of my daughter, but let's face it, none of you would believe me.) Part of the song goes like this:

"Who is that girl I see, staring straight back at me? Why is my reflection someone I don't know? Somehow I cannot hide who I am, though I've tried. When will my reflection show who I am inside?"

I've always related to this song because I've rarely felt comfortable in my own skin - at least, not for very long. Oh, I did for a bit in high school and a bit in college, but ever since, I've been searching for what I'm supposed to look like. What I want to see in myself isn't always what other people want or expect to see.

I think I've found it.

Here I am, in my (less messy than usual but still not clean) kitchen, wearing my Concordia cross country sweatshirt and a t-shirt from an Oklahoma state park, about to get dinner started for my foster daughter. If you'd asked me five years ago if this is what I would look like, or want to look like, I would've said no way. I wanted a husband by now, and maybe a baby, and a slightly bigger kitchen, and to be better at cooking and cleaning by now. But per the usual, God's plan trumped mine, and here I am. 

Happy. 

That's not to say I still don't want those other things. I do, and someday I hope I'll have them. But for right now? This is who I am, and I'm comfortable with that. 

Learning from My Students

Hello, friends. I'm killing a bit of time before my weekly mentoring conversation with Pastor Jay, and I'm thinking about something he says occasionally: sometimes, the things we discuss for my benefit end up benefiting him as well.

I experienced the other side of that yesterday during Midweek school. One of my high school students is our first and second grade Midweek teacher. Yesterday, she taught her kids the difference between "porcupine words" and "puppy words." (Originally the book suggested the term "teddy bear words," but evidently she likes puppies better than teddy bears.) You can probably guess the difference: porcupine words are intended to hurt people and tear them down, while puppy words are intended to help people and build them up.

When I asked her how her class went, she said that the lesson went more quickly than she was expecting, so she had to improvise. She did this by asking her kids to think about someone at school that they don't like, and describe that person using puppy words instead of porcupine words. This proved to be pretty hard for them, so she used herself as an example and described someone she doesn't like using only puppy words.

Not only was I impressed with her on-the- fly idea, I was also convicted by her example, because that's not only hard for first and second graders - it's hard for me, too. It's no secret that there are people at church that I don't like. That's a fact of life at any congregation or workplace. So often, I find myself only thinking of those people in "porcupine words," and I find it nearly impossible to find anything good about them because I'm just so frustrated. But that's not what the Bible teaches, and that's not what the Catechism explains.

The Eighth Commandment:
"You shall not give false testimony against your neighbor."

What does this mean?
"We should fear and love God so that we do not tell lies about our neighbor, betray him, slander him, or hurt his reputation, but defend him, speak well of him, and explain everything in the kindest way."

Here's to a renewed understanding of the Eighth Commandment, taught to me by someone I'm supposed to be teaching. These kind of moments remind me why I love my job so much.

Quiet

Hello, friends.

I'm lying on my couch typing on my tablet in the dark. It's about as quiet as my house ever gets; usually my daughter has music turned up loud or I'm watching an episode of a tv show. Right now, all I can hear is the tapping of my fingers on the screen.

Quiet is something I've had a lot of recently. Quiet at work with only me in the office, quiet at home because I've felt too ill to do anything. But there is no quiet inside my head. Internally, I feel like I'm screaming all the time. The pressure to be perfect, to appear strong when there is so much turmoil everywhere I look, is overwhelming. I can't handle it on my own. But it often feels like I have nowhere to turn.

This past Monday, I realized that the pressure was getting to me. I wasn't eating or sleeping. I was constantly nauseous and exhausted. I couldn't concentrate on anything. Everything made me frustrated. I decided that there was no point to prolonging the inevitable, so I went to the doctor and he prescribed me some medicine to help control my stress. He said to give it ten days to start having an effect. I'll see if it does. Anything has to be better than how I still feel at the moment.

I didn't want to admit this. The fact that I need medical help to control my stress made me feel ashamed - at first. But the fact is that we all need help sometimes. It isn't a bad thing. And recognizing that is the first step.

There was one other thing that made me feel ashamed. What right did I have to be so stressed when so many people have it worse off than I do? But that's not a useful way to think, either. My problem may seem small in the grand scheme of things, but that doesn't make it any less legitimate.

I guess my point is this: it's okay to admit to not being okay.

Big News

Hello, friends. I have some big news for you - but said news isn't quite as exciting as the Big News of my call to Oklahoma. This big news is kind of scary. Pastor House, my supervisor from Redeemer and the alternative caregiver of my foster daughter, recently accepted a call to another church. He and his wife will be moving almost five hours away at the end of the month.

This situation is a weird combination of sadness and joy. The sadness, of course, comes from the fact that Pastor House has been a good supervisor and friend to me and a positive influence on my foster daughter. I will miss him and Audrey very much. The joy comes from the fact that God knows what he's doing, and clearly has a plan for both Pastor House and Redeemer. To use a cliche I usually avoid, when one door closes, another one opens.

I have a somewhat unusual prayer request during this time: please pray that Redeemer does not receive a new pastor soon.

The vacancy and call process will undoubtedly be stressful and busy for me, and selfishly, I want a new pastor ASAP. However, I don't think that's a good idea for Redeemer at this time. Our church, just like any other, needs time to regroup before it is ready to call another pastor. So please, pray that the leaders of Redeemer will be willing to take the time to do what is best for the congregation.

Sibling Story Time

Hello, friends. Gather around, for it is story time.

Ten years and a few months ago, my brother and I got into a big fight. This came as a surprise to exactly no one who knew us. Zach and I had a love-hate relationship that often leaned heavily towards the hate side. I have no idea what the fight was about, but I do distinctly remember that I was so mad that I decided to count down the days until he was going to move to college. I kept it up for over a hundred days. (I was recently reminded of this because it keeps popping up as a memory on Facebook!)

Fast-forward to this past Monday and Tuesday. My foster daughter and I made the trek to Marion to visit Zach, Lindsey, and Kylen. I emphasized to many people before we left that we were going to see Kylen, and there would probably be other people there, but my adorable two-year-old nephew was the priority. It's true, I did spend a disproportionate amount of time spoiling the little guy, but I also spent a lot of time talking with Zach. This has led me to a shocking conclusion:

I actually like my brother a lot.

There, I said it.

There's something unique about the bond between brother and sister. Like I said earlier, we used to argue constantly, but despite all that, there was never a time that we didn't love each other. I think it's only in the last several years that we've honestly started liking each other. I'm glad for the change, big bro. Thanks for being a role model for me. Thanks for talking through everything from taxes to parenting with me. You're an incredible father and husband and yes, brother - as much as the me of ten years ago would never believe it. Now, instead of counting down the days until you leave, I'm counting down the days until I can see you again.

And Kylen. Because he's cuter than you.

A Sort-Of Psalm

Hello, friends.

I once had an assignment in which I had to write a story of sorts in the style of an Old Testament book. If I'm remembering correctly, I chose Jonah. It was an interesting exercise - using biblical language to describe something in the modern day. Well, today was a rather long and frustrating day for me. When I first day down to write a blog post, I entirely intended to do nothing but complain. But I think it would be helpful for me to write about my day in the style of a book of the Bible again, and once I get to the end, you'll see why. Here goes nothing, kind of in the style of one of the Psalms of lament.

O Lord, today I felt alone,
    exhausted, and betrayed.
I did all that I could do
    and still, it was not enough.
My best of intentions
    amounted to nothing at all.

Those supposed to help
    were absent and unashamed.
When I needed them the most,
    they were elsewhere.
And I wondered, Lord God,
    where were You?

But when I looked around,
    I found You everywhere.
You were there in my daughter;
    You were there in my pastor;
You were in the kindness of friends
    and the sympathy of family.
I did not want to see You,
    But You were still there.

Lord, Forgiver and Redeemer,
    convict me with Your presence
and help me to be the person
    You created me to be.

Everything Is an Experiment

Hello, friends. Today, instead of going to work, I'm sitting at home eating small amounts of cereal and trying not to throw up. So far, so good.

I did have to leave at some point to drive my daughter to and from the library, where she had been volunteering. I say "had been" because today, the teen librarian told me that she wasn't a good fit for the program. It was an uncomfortable conversation. Basically, she said that my daughter didn't want to help - all she wanted to do was play.

This didn't come as a great shock to me, and if you've spent any time with my daughter, I doubt you're shocked either. But if that conversation was uncomfortable, it was nothing compared to the conversation I then had to have with my daughter. I spent the drive home thinking, "How on earth do I break this to her?"

In the end, I kept it simple. I asked her some questions about what she did at the library versus what she was supposed to do, and she was able to acknowledge that she didn't always listen to the librarian. I then told her about one of my mottos in life: everything is an experiment. If one thing doesn't work, we try something else. And that's okay. Not everything is going to work. Sometimes things will work for awhile and then stop working. When one experiment fails, we move on to the next. That's how life works.

I'm glad she was able to volunteer, even if only for a few weeks. Now we find our next experiment.

What Is the Church (Softball Team)

Hello, friends. Tonight, during our first church softball game, the opposing team needed some extra players.  Our team had so many players that I hadn't even put myself on our line-up, so I volunteered myself. This gave me the unique opportunity to watch my team govern themselves.

The other team put me in right field. I was in the perfect position to observe my team's dugout. They were laughing and joking and cheering each other on and helping each other out and I thought to myself, this is the church. This is what I want to see. This beautiful sight reminded me of 1st Thessalonians 5:11 - "Therefore encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing."

Then it came time for them to go into the field. Despite the clearly-displayed lineup that I had done and redone five times to the best of my ability, people got confused and went to the wrong positions and started yelling at each other and getting frustrated. At first I was discouraged as I watched them from the other dugout, but then I realized: this is the church, too. We're not perfect. We make mistakes. We get angry. We get annoyed. We're just people, after all.

The game went on, and there were ups and downs in both dugouts. But in the end, we all came out as friends, and that's what the church truly is - a place of forgiveness.

Lessons from Lizzie McGuire

Hello, friends.

"No one person can save the whole world." That's a familiar phrase from my blog, but I want to share with you where I first learned it. It's not where you might think.

When I was younger, I was a big Disney Channel girl. One of my favorite shows was Lizzie McGuire. I vividly remember an episode in which Lizzie and her friend ran a successful food drive at their school. Because of their success, Lizzie became obsessed with volunteering and other noble pursuits - she started forcefully collecting items for the homeless shelter and sorting out trash and recycling at home, and she even became a vegetarian. She yelled at her mother for leaving the water running, her friends for making paper airplanes, and her teacher for not printing a pop quiz double-sided.

Lizzie's parents sat her down to talk about her behavior. They pointed out that she was taking on too much and running herself into the ground - she couldn't save the world by herself. If she really wanted to make a difference, they said, what she needed to do was pick one thing and go for it. Her heart was in the right place, but she needed to calm down and allow herself to rest.

Lizzie tried to do too much. She wanted to support the food pantry and homeless shelter. She wanted to recycle more and help animals and save the earth's resources. None of those things were bad, but she was only one person, and she couldn't do all of those things at once.

When I was in college, boy, did I make a Lizzie mistake. I tried to be a key leader in Students for Life, Puppet Ministry, and Small Groups all at once while still participating in other activities and taking a full course load. Everything suffered for lack of time and energy until I realized that I had tried to do too much. All of the things I was doing were good things, but I was only one person, and I just couldn't do all of them at once. I had to give some of them up in order to give my best effort.

It's easy to fall into that trap. We can become "yes-people," always agreeing to do anything that sounds good. That is a mistake. It's better to do one or two things, and do them very well, than to do five or six things poorly. It doesn't matter if all five or six things are good and important if you can't do them well.

Right now, in my life, I've picked my things. I'm a foster mother. I adopted a dog from a rescue. I donate money to my friends who are missionaries overseas. And when an important cause comes up, such as the recent tragedy in Manchester, I give a one-time donation. I can't afford to give my money to every charity, although there are many charities that I believe in. If I did give my money and my time and my energy to every worthy cause, I'd be broke and exhausted and unable to help any new causes in the future. I have to pick and choose. That's the choice that I have, and it's a good one. By picking my things, I'm able to help more people in the long run.

I can't save the whole world. But I can make a difference, one person and one cause at a time. And so can you.

Church Workers Are People Too

Hello, friends.

My heart hurts today. I'm not going to share all of the details, because they're not mine to tell, but here's the gist: a pastor I know was ousted by his congregation.

On behalf of church workers everywhere, please remember that church workers are people too. We are sinners and saints, just like you. We aren't perfect - and God knew that when He called us to our churches. He called us there anyway. So if you have an issue with a church worker, keep these three things in mind:

1) Go talk to them. That sounds obvious, but in a conflict, our first reaction is often to talk about it to someone else. I'm guilty of that. Go talk to the church worker and be willing to work things out. Don't charge into their office and yell at them until they agree with you. Go into the conversation with an open mind and the desire to find a solution that works for both of you.

2) Know that church workers cannot read minds. Something that seems obvious to you might not be obvious to them. And then there's the other side of the coin - something that seems obvious to them might not be obvious to you. Church workers generally have reasons for the things they do. If you're concerned about something, ask about their reasoning before you judge.

3) Have compassion. When the aforementioned congregation ousted their pastor, they also ousted that pastor's wife and children from their home and school. Before the situation got to this point, the congregation had reduced the pastor's salary so much that the family was living on food stamps. It baffles me that a church could have so little compassion for those kids, if nothing else.

Please, please, please. Don't let this happen anywhere else. Stand up for your church workers, imperfect as they may be. They are people too, and they deserve your kindness and respect.

(And if you know of a vacant congregation, let me know.)

Joy in Judo

Hello, friends! My daughter and I had Judo class tonight. It was delightful. Let me tell you a few reasons why.

1) Self-defense, man. It's so important for me and my daughter to learn how to defend ourselves.

2) Judo teaches discipline and patience - something that me and my daughter both struggle with.

3) There are people my daughter's age and people my age in the class. You might know that I've struggled to make friends in Enid. Tonight I spent maybe ten minutes talking to an adult who was not a member of my church. That's so rare; I value the friendships I'm building so much!

4) I think it's wonderful that my daughter and I are able to do this together. It allows us to encourage each other. She sees that I'm not automatically good at this, that I fail (often), and that it's okay to fail. She sees me practicing and learning, and it inspires her to do the same.

5) I seriously love learning new skills, and this is completely new.

That about sums it up, I think. I'm really hoping that taking this class and sticking with it (at least for a while) will give my daughter confidence. And I'm not gonna lie, I could use some confidence too. :)

My Starfish

Hello, friends.

The other day, I wrote a blog post entitled "The Little Boy and the Starfish." I'd recommend you read that one before you read this one, because I'm going to talk about my starfish, and if you haven't read the previous post, you'll be confused.

Okay, here we go.

My starfish wears a lot of pink. She is a My Little Pony fanatic who can tell you everything there is to know about the Mane Six (and everyone else). Whenever someone enters the house, she instantly wants to play My Little Pony with them, and she will gladly play it for hours or even days at a time. Just ask Melissa or Lindsey about their recent visits to my house.

My starfish does not like homework. She doesn't mind school, but she does mind schoolwork. When she's decided that she's done for the day, that's it, and nothing her teachers say can change her mind. I seem to be the only one capable of getting her to finish her homework, and it's not exactly easy for me. She lies about it frequently and only tells the truth when I threaten to take away swimming privileges at the Y.

My starfish loves my dog, and my dog loves her. My starfish also loves little kids. She helps in the nursery on Sunday mornings and is slowly but surely learning that taking care of kids is different from being friends with them. She likes being in charge. When she plays with other kids, she sets the tone of the games.

My starfish doesn't act her age. She chews with her mouth open, shouts and screams when she gets excited or frustrated, cries to garner sympathy when things don't go her way, only uses proper hygiene techniques when forced, and has trouble thinking outside the box. When she could pick anywhere to eat, she wants McDonald's. When I ask where she wants to go to celebrate a special event, she says Wal-Mart. Those are the places she knows she likes, and she would be content to never go anywhere but those two places ever again.

My starfish is creative. She doesn't just watch movies; she watches movies, listens to the songs in the movies, creates dances for the songs, and then performs them for anyone who will watch. My starfish likes to read; her favorite series is "Pony Pals," an old favorite of mine when I was younger. My starfish can make pancakes and sew pony dresses and play a mean game of Skee Ball.

A year ago yesterday was the day I met my starfish, and I wouldn't have things any other way.

The Little Boy and the Starfish

Hello, friends.

We live in a scary world. Every day we hear about new tragedies, here in the US and around the world. Just last week here in Enid a newborn baby was found dead in a dumpster. It's still unclear how the poor child ended up there.

I often find myself feeling overwhelmed. There is so much wrong in the world. How can we have hope?

Have you ever heard the story of the little boy and the starfish? It goes something like this:

A man was walking along the seashore. Hundreds of starfish had been washed up on the sand. As he walked, the man saw a little boy picking up the starfish one by one and throwing them back into the ocean. 

Walking up to the boy, the man asked, "Why are you throwing them back? Look at how many there are. It won't make any difference."

The little boy thought for a moment, then shrugged and threw another starfish into the ocean. "It made a difference to that one," he replied.

We can't solve all of the world's problems, but that doesn't mean we can't make a difference. I don't know how that poor baby ended up in a dumpster last week, but can you imagine the difference just one person could have made?

The story of the little boy and the starfish is one that foster parents often refer to; there are so many foster children, and we can't possibly help them all - but that doesn't mean we shouldn't help the ones we can.

However, this story isn't just meaningful to foster parents. I challenge you, as we enter the Easter season, to look for the people you can help. You can make a difference. Don't lose hope.

Super DCE to the Rescue

Not all heroes wear capes. Some of us wear dress pants and nice shirts. Or sometimes jeans and nice shirts. Occasionally shorts and t-shirts. I don't have a uniform, okay? I just don't wear a cape. I'm Super DCE, and I can do anything! The acolyte hasn't shown up yet? It's Super DCE with the save, recruiting another likely young person. The sound system isn't working? Not a problem for Super DCE – I'll just shout my children's message. There's a dog loose in the parking lot? Don't worry, I'll... wait, that's my dog. That's embarrassing.

It's not all fun and games for Super DCE, despite what most people think. Just to clear the air: Super DCE does not play with kids all day long, although I would probably enjoy that. At least for a week or so. Yeah, actually, Vacation Bible School once a year is enough to play with kids all the time. Have you ever led a Vacation Bible School? Can you say exhausting?

Speaking of exhausting, have you ever been to a National Youth Gathering? Let me tell you, Super DCE rocked that last National Youth Gathering. And then, after I got home, I immediately crashed. All of that counting was a struggle. I'm not good at math, you see, and I had to count my students constantly. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve... where's Alex??

Vacation Bible Schools and National Youth Gatherings are in my call documents, but Super DCE is actually in charge of all kinds of things. I am the guardian of the basketballs, the locker of doors, the fixer of computers, the organizer of the pantry, and the maker of the Sacrament of Coffee. The Pre-K Sunday school teacher doesn't show? Super DCE steps in with a storybook and crayons. The storage closet is a mess? Super DCE takes a day to go through every. single. bottle. of paint. Why do we have 75 bottles of paint? That is beyond the grasp of even Super DCE.

It often seems like it's always Super DCE to the rescue. No matter what the problem is, I end up trying to address it. There's infighting among the leaders of the church? Super DCE to the rescue! A building project is trying to get off the ground? Super DCE to the rescue! Someone is trying to pass a flawed budget? Super DCE to the rescue!

At the end of the day, though, I know that I'm not really the rescuer. Super DCE is great, but even heroes need a hero, and not one that wears a cape. My hero wears a crown of thorns. When Super DCE loses her temper, Jesus is there. When Super DCE is tired, Jesus is there. When Super DCE is out of ideas, Jesus is there. No matter how hard I try, Super DCE can't save the whole world – and that's okay. Jesus already did.

Addendum to Learning through "Beauty and the Beast"

Hello, friends.

Near the end of my time in Tallahassee, Pastor Jay had me come up with a personal meaning statement. It is (drum roll please) "helping others find their place in God's story."

This statement has many facets to it, but the one I want to focus on tonight is the word "story." I believe two things: first, everyone has a story, and second, everyone is part of a bigger story - God's story.

Everyone has a story. As a DCE, I hear people's stories all the time. It is both the best and the worst part of my job. I hear all the happy things (I got a job; I'm dating someone) and all the sad things (My parents are divorcing; I'm depressed). No matter what your story is, part of my calling as a DCE is to respect and love you enough to listen to it.

Everyone is part of a bigger story - God's story. Yes, I hear the sad things. My story has sad things in it, too, and as a foster parent, I'm learning about the sad things more and more. But our stories, the happy and the sad, fit into the greater plan of God. I am able to look back at my life and say, "That's why God had me go through that - so I would be helpful to this person here today." Knowing that God is in control gives me a new perspective.

You may wonder why I'm writing about this tonight. I'm still thinking about the controversy surrounding the new "Beauty and the Beast." Maybe I'm biased because I've been excited about this movie for so long, but here's what I think: if I am truly called to help others find their place in God's story, I have to be willing to listen to theirs. If I reject the opportunity to listen and learn, how am I supposed to do that?

One of my favorite Bible stories is found in Matthew chapter 9. It reads,

As Jesus passed on from there, he saw a man named Matthew sitting at the tax booth, and he said to him, 'Follow me.' And he rose and followed him.

And as Jesus reclined at table in his house, behold, many tax collectors and sinners came and were reclining with Jesus and his disciples. And when the Pharisees saw this, they said to his disciples, "Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?" But when he heard it, he said, "Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. Go and learn what this means: 'I desire mercy, and not sacrifice.' For I came not to call the righteous, but sinners.

I don't expect people who aren't Christians to act Christian. I do expect them to want to be heard, and I intend to listen to and learn from them, just as Jesus did. I'm not saying that I agree with them. I'm not saying that I'm going to change my opinions and beliefs for them. I am saying that I believe they have a story, just as all of us do, and I want to hear it. Yes, for me, part of that comes through watching movies like "Beauty and the Beast" and tv shows like "Supergirl" with values that I don't necessarily align myself with.

I don't expect the entertainment industry to act Christian. I expect them to tell the stories that matter to them. And if my goal is truly to help them find their place in God's story, I have to listen to their stories, first.

Learning through "Beauty and the Beast"

Hello, friends. If there are any spelling errors in this blog, please excuse them. Someone insisted on playing fetch while I was writing.

The news came out recently that there will be an openly gay character in the new live-action "Beauty and the Beast." I know that there are many people outraged by this. They don't want to watch a movie with a gay character. They don't want their kids to be influenced by a gay character. And believe me, I get that.

I also get that the movie industry is not a Christian conservative one, and I don't expect them to echo my Christian conservative views. In fact, I expect the complete opposite - and I find that to be useful. On a day-to-day basis, I mostly interact with people who share my values. Watching movies and TV shows where the characters don't share my values gives me opportunities for learning and growth that I don't get elsewhere.

So I probably will go see "Beauty and the Beast." Will the part with the openly gay character be my favorite? No, it won't - but it will be the most educational.

Personal Mottos

Hello, friends.

I have a few sayings that I live my life by. For example...

Everything is an experiment.
Every day is a new adventure.
People matter more than numbers.

Recently, the one that's on my mind the most is this:

No one person can save the whole world.

I am just one person. No matter how hard I try, I cannot save the whole world. I can't solve the refugee crisis or abolish abortion or fix our public schools or end hunger - on my own, I can't do anything.

Two things remind me that I can do something.

1) No one person can save the whole world... and that's okay. I'm not meant to save the whole world. I am meant to be a positive force in my circle of influence. I can't save the whole world, but I can be there for my foster daughter, for the young people at church, for my family, for my friends. I can't save the whole world - but I can do good in my own little corner of it.

2) No one person can save the whole world... but one did. Jesus saved the whole world. I don't have to, because it's already been done. Jesus now walks beside me, leading me into the places where I can do some good for the world.

One person saved the whole world. Now, it's our turn. Let's see what we can do, one person at a time.

Big Dreams

Hello, friends. Question: did you have big dreams when you were growing up? I know I did. First, I wanted to be a Drake cheerleader, then a Drake basketball player. (Did I think past college? No, no I did not.) I recall at some point wanting to be an Olympic gymnast. I also wanted to be a teacher and a famous author.

Obviously, I haven't exactly achieved those dreams. I stopped wanting to be a cheerleader when I started liking basketball more. I stopped dreaming of being a basketball player when I looked at the roster one day and saw that the shortest person on it was 5'6". I lost interest in gymnastics after about fifth grade. I'm a teacher of sorts today, but not in the way that I desired to be when I was a kid. As for the last one, well, writing a blog wasn't what I had in mind. (Although I am famous - just ask the random people in Ukraine who read my blog.)

My foster daughter has some equally interesting dreams. In the last nine months, she has expressed interest in becoming a dog groomer at PetSmart, a teacher, a DCE like me, and the director of Leonardo's Children's Museum here in town. I think she would also accept becoming a My Little Pony or a Disney princess.

Just like most of us, I'm sure my foster daughter will go through many more dreams before she settles on a career. What's important to me is that she is able to dream. Despite everything that she's gone through, she is able to look at the future and say "Someday, I will do great things." Whether she becomes a dog groomer or a teacher or a Disney princess or something entirely different, my foster daughter is going to grow up and show the world what she's made of.

I can't wait.

Why the March for Life Matters

Hello, friends. Typing with one finger slightly immobilized by a band-aid is difficult (note to self: get a cut glove), but I'm feeling passionate today. If there are spelling errors, blame it on my finger.

The March for Life was today. This meant a lot to me before, because babies dying should mean a lot to everyone. But it means a lot more to me today, because I'm a foster mother.

My foster daughter would have been a prime candidate for abortion. She was born into a low-income family, her older siblings had previously been in foster care, her father wasn't in the picture, and her mother had some mental health issues and couldn't keep a steady job. Any abortion advocate would have said that abortion was the right option, that her life would be too hard, that it would be better if she was never born.

But let me tell you, this girl loves life. She's had a hard one, to be sure, but she is smart and funny and kind. She loves animals and little kids and she will go on for days about Disney movies and cocker spaniels. Has her life been a cakewalk? Of course not, but there is no possible scenario in which it would have been better for her to die.

So don't talk to me about how abortion helps women. Abortion would have killed my foster daughter without a second thought.

My Awesome Cousin in the Galapagos Islands

Hello, friends!

My cousin Alison (some people call her Ali, but to me she'll always be Alison) is going on a volunteering trip to the Galapagos Islands in May and June. How awesome is that? She needs some help to get her there, so please take a minute to check out her GoFundMe page. Thank you! :)

Me and Elijah

Hello, friends.

In 1st Kings 18, Elijah had a great victory. He challenged the prophets of Baal to a showdown.

"I am the only one of the Lord's prophets left," he said. "But Baal has four hundred and fifty prophets. Get two bulls for us. Let Baal's prophets choose one for themselves, and let them cut it into pieces and put it on the wood but not set fire to it. I will prepare the other bull and put it on the wood and not set fire to it. Then you call on the name of your god, and I will call on the name of the Lord. The god who answers by fire - he is God."

Long story short, the prophets of Baal called to their god from morning until night, with no response. Then Elijah built his altar, poured jars and jars of water over it, and called on his God, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Israel. "Then the fire of the Lord fell and burned up the sacrifice, the wood, the stones and the soil, and also licked up the water in the trench. When all the people saw this, they fell prostrate and cried, 'The Lord - he is God! The Lord - he is God!'"

Amazing, right? Elijah had faith in God, and God provided the sign that Elijah needed. All was well. It was a great victory.

The next day, Elijah ran for his life.

Why, you ask? He was afraid. He received a death threat and he ran. "He himself went a day's journey into the wilderness. He came to a broom bush, sat under it, and prayed that he might die. 'I have had enough, Lord,' he said. 'Take my life; I am no better than my ancestors.' Then he lay down under the bush and fell asleep."

Today I feel like Elijah under the broom bush. I'm tired; I want to give up; I feel worthless, beaten down from all sides. Despite all of the great victories that God has given me, all I want to do is run for my life. I'm afraid. And I'm sure I'm not alone.

Elijah wasn't alone, either. Though he fled to the wilderness and lay down to die, he was not alone. "All at once an angel touched him and said, 'Get up and eat.' He looked around, and there by his head was some bread baked over hot coals, and a jar of water. He ate and drank and then lay down again.

"The angel of the Lord came back a second time and touched him and said, 'Get up and eat, for the journey is too much for you.' So he got up and ate and drank."

Isn't that incredible? God knew what Elijah needed, and it wasn't a pep talk. It was rest. God gave Elijah time for recovery. Later, after Elijah was recovered, "the word of the Lord came to him: 'What are you doing here, Elijah?'

"He replied, 'I have been very zealous for the Lord God Almighty. The Israelites have rejected your covenant, torn down your altars, and put your prophets to death with the sword. I am the only one left, and now they are trying to kill me too.'"

If God asked me this question today, I would probably sound just like Elijah. "I have been very zealous for the Lord God Almighty," I would say. "I have dedicated my life to Christian education, I have moved hundreds of miles away from home, family, and friends, and I have become a foster parent. No matter what I do, it is never enough, and people are tearing me down from every side."

"The Lord said, 'Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by.'"

"Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper. When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave.

"Then a voice said to him, 'What are you doing here, Elijah?'

Elijah repeated his complaints. He had been zealous for so long, with so few results. God replied with two main reassurances. One, that although Elijah might not see them, there would be results. Good would come of what Elijah had done. And two, Elijah was not alone. God was with him, and God would appoint helpers and successors for him.

Then God told Elijah to go and continue his work.

I often feel isolated and alone. I wonder every day if this is really where God wants me to be. "If it is," I wonder, "why did x, y, and x happen to me and those around me? What is it that God wants me to do here?" The story of Elijah gives me four sources of hope.

1) God will give me rest when I need it. My well-being is a priority of his.
2) God listens to my woes. He truly hears and understands me.
3) God is always with me, and I am not expected to do any of this alone.
4) Although I may not see it now, good things will come of what I do in this place.

It's hard to be a church worker. It's hard to be so far from friends and family. It's hard to be a foster parent. Sometimes it's just hard to be.

But I have hope.