In the early days of the church, people would gather on the roof tops to talk and share their lives with one another. I hope this blog can serve the same purpose.
This blog is designed to serve as an Online Growth Group for The Bridge Church in Cleveland, Ga, but everyone is invited to join in on the discussions about how God is working in our lives. Please feel free to watch the podcasts and join us in our walk.
Luke 12:3
What you have said in the dark will be heard in the daylight, and what you have whispered in the ear in the inner rooms will be proclaimed from the roofs.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Jan 30th Sermon- Failing Forward
I thought this would be a good time for us to get to know each other a little bit. Share a time when you "failed forward" or your thoughts on failing forward.
Glad to see the group is up and running for those of us who live on the computer. I too enjoyed last weeks sermon with Jeff... and I have failed at few things through-out life from time to time. I tend to think of them as learning points of what not to do! Funny, some of those things were things my parents told me not to do growing up but, I was like any other kid and thought I knew everything and wasn't going to learn anything from my parents. Now, I can look back and be thankful I had a Heavenly Father who loved me even when I fell short and need to dust myself off and try again.
(Apparently my remarks exceed the character limit so I will post in parts) PART I:
I have always had a pretty vanilla life honestly and have lived a breezy mixture of God’s awesome plan and luck. Besides the universal experiences and coming of age epochs, I was gingerly walking through life, steering clear of any lifestyle or theological quagmires in fear of falling. And then 2010 happened.
My wife and I both felt that it was time to radically adjust our lifestyles and priorities to be the shadows of Christ. This was spawned through beyond-coincidence books we were reading, friends’ candid encouragement, and the Holy Spirit opening up our eyes. When my wife and I finally accepted the undeniable push to adopt, we had no money set aside for such an adventure. I was working two jobs and coaching two sports and finishing my PhD just to keep try to earn enough money to keep my wife at home with our two children; the last thing that made financial sense was a $30,000 plus endeavor and another mouth to feed thereafter.
After months of paperwork, physicals, home studies, being told our own children were too young for one international program and another program through Uganda changing course, we finally went to committee with a little boy from Ethiopia. He was on the waiting child list so we knew that he would have some type of health need. We had prepared ourselves for this and trusted that if our family wasn’t able to handle the needs of a child, we would not be matched with that child. When we received this little boy’s information, we found that he had a special physical need. After the initial brief shock abated, we felt a peace that confirmed in us that the need had not done any neurological damage to him and that we would be blessed with such a gift and story. However, after going to committee, we were not selected as the matching family. This was quite a melancholic turn of events for us because we were excited that he was matched with a family, but certainly dejected that it wasn’t us.
Shortly after we were sent a picture and profile of a little girl from Ethiopia. Her physical needs were both a special need and congenital talipes equinovarus (club feet). We knew the special need could be treated and the club feet would be operated on prior to us adopting her. We felt so close to this little girl. She was born on Easter Sunday and her Amharic name meant holy of holies. We prayed that she would see us in her dreams as she slept in her crib at the Durame care center, and that when she first saw us, she would recognize us if only in her infantile subconscious. We named her Harper after Harper Lee (it was, after all, the 50th year anniversary of To Kill A Mockingbird). After three weeks of being her all-but-legally-adopted parents, we got a phone call from the director of the African department of Holt International. She said that Harper was found in her crib over the weekend and had died. Was it SIDS? Was she in pain? Was she alone when it happened? Could it have been prevented? The agency was not sure but an investigation would be carried out. Unfortunately for us, because we had not gone to court, we were not her legal guardians and so we weren’t privilege to any answers…and none ever came.
My wife and I began to question our every action for the entire year. We had been faithful in our giving, our time, had hoped to use this adoption as a platform to show others how wonderful grafting in a child can be. Now, we felt our story was tainted, and possibly even over. Harper was born into poverty and neglect, physically disadvantaged, and lived most of her seven months in an orphanage. What is simply a sad story or another statistic, was the story of our daughter. I was in shock. It was such a strange juxtaposition. How was I supposed to grieve for this child that I never even met? I needed to place this pain on some sort of scale. There are no books about this and no one to empathize with. How do you find closure? How do you grieve appropriately without people removed from such a raw position thinking that you are milking an unfortunate situation?
The most penetrating question was "why?" Why were we supposed to accept her referral if this was going to be the outcome? Why was she given a second chance, a life with a family that would love her and care for her, only to have her life tragically end before she ever got that second chance?
The truth is that this is not an isolated incident. Children die every day, all over the world. Sometimes it is from diseases like, cancer, AIDS, or SIDS; things that cannot be cured. Sometimes it is from not having access to clean drinking water or from diseases, like malaria that are easily prevented and curable. The most heartbreaking part of this story, is the fact that there are thousands of children, just like Harper, who die in orphanages every day. Children who are every bit as special as Harper was, the only difference is that this time we have a picture and name to associate with this tragedy. I felt like Africa and God was laughing at me and Bono’s quote echoed through my mind all week, “Africa makes a fool of our idea of justice. It makes a farce of our idea of equality. It mocks our pieties. It doubts our concern. It questions our commitment.”
I tried, and at times still try to identify the purpose of her brief life. We knew this wasn't just some terrible accident on God’s part and that he knew Harper’s days before he formed her and that she was wonderfully made. We knew that in trying to live out our faith that God would challenge us. This was our “Dark Night of the Soul.”
My wife reminded me that we were not feeling anything that God himself had not felt for his own son and that we had so much to be thankful for in what He had opened our eyes to in the past year. This was no doubt a fall, but we were so confident that, even though we could not even imagine good coming from this, God’s purpose would be magnificent in such as way that only He could orchestrate. Not in a fatalistic Insha’ Allah manner such as: “It just wasn’t God’s will” or “He has a better plan.” I feel like surrendering to these types of mantras steals our biological and emotional need to grieve. I needed to ask questions, to ask God why, to NOT find comfort in people saying “His ways are higher than ours.” I didn’t want to swallow a panacea that we have developed that supports an idea that it is not okay to suffer and mourn, or that we should fake happiness through painful situations. Honestly, that is disgusting, and theologically unsound. I hope that I am getting my point across here. It isn’t that I didn’t think that God was in control, but that so often I think we expect others to move beyond grief because God has it in His hands. He is open to our grief and wants us to cry out to Him. I read this quote this past Saturday by Flannery O’Connor, “What people don't realize is how much religion costs. They think faith is a big electric blanket, when of course it is the cross. It is much harder to believe than not to believe. If you feel you can't believe, you must at least do this: keep an open mind. Keep it open toward faith, keep wanting it, keep asking for it, and leave the rest to God. "
The reason that my wife, children, and I are even at The Bridge now is because of this gut wrenching experience. Patrick allowed us to speak the Sunday after we found out about Harper. Honestly, I was not ready to talk about it, but from the outset of the adoption process, we knew that it wasn’t about us anyway. It actually turned out to be an incredible cathartic experience for us. After more conversations, coffee, and Zaxbys…Patrick and Jeff offered a ministry position that I had been seeking for almost a year! And it had nothing to do with adoption or our experience, but that was the “vehicle” that brought us in.
We were soon after matched with our son Micah. We love him just as dearly and cannot wait to meet him. I know this story isn’t over, in fact, we will be able to meet him on March 7 and then go back around May to bring him home…then comes the rest of his life as our son! I have been challenged to live life beyond the margins. "All around you, people will be tiptoeing through life, just to arrive at death safely. ... Run, hop, skip, or dance, just don't tiptoe." –Shane Claiborne
haha, thank you/sorry for the time you just invested in reading that, I didn't realize how enormous it was until I posted it all and then looked over it again.
It was long, but worth it. What a story. I think the fact that you guys never stopped searching, never turned away, never lost the vision to help is a Win. I agree with you about the mourning. Just because we know it's in God's hands and his will doesn't and shouldn't change our emotional attachment to each other. Excitingly enough, it is our love for one another that answers Jesus’ prayers. Our caring and compassion of our fellow man (and WOman) is what sets us apart as Christians. Thanks for sharing.
Glad to see the group is up and running for those of us who live on the computer. I too enjoyed last weeks sermon with Jeff... and I have failed at few things through-out life from time to time. I tend to think of them as learning points of what not to do! Funny, some of those things were things my parents told me not to do growing up but, I was like any other kid and thought I knew everything and wasn't going to learn anything from my parents. Now, I can look back and be thankful I had a Heavenly Father who loved me even when I fell short and need to dust myself off and try again.
ReplyDelete(Apparently my remarks exceed the character limit so I will post in parts)
ReplyDeletePART I:
I have always had a pretty vanilla life honestly and have lived a breezy mixture of God’s awesome plan and luck. Besides the universal experiences and coming of age epochs, I was gingerly walking through life, steering clear of any lifestyle or theological quagmires in fear of falling. And then 2010 happened.
My wife and I both felt that it was time to radically adjust our lifestyles and priorities to be the shadows of Christ. This was spawned through beyond-coincidence books we were reading, friends’ candid encouragement, and the Holy Spirit opening up our eyes. When my wife and I finally accepted the undeniable push to adopt, we had no money set aside for such an adventure. I was working two jobs and coaching two sports and finishing my PhD just to keep try to earn enough money to keep my wife at home with our two children; the last thing that made financial sense was a $30,000 plus endeavor and another mouth to feed thereafter.
After months of paperwork, physicals, home studies, being told our own children were too young for one international program and another program through Uganda changing course, we finally went to committee with a little boy from Ethiopia. He was on the waiting child list so we knew that he would have some type of health need. We had prepared ourselves for this and trusted that if our family wasn’t able to handle the needs of a child, we would not be matched with that child. When we received this little boy’s information, we found that he had a special physical need. After the initial brief shock abated, we felt a peace that confirmed in us that the need had not done any neurological damage to him and that we would be blessed with such a gift and story. However, after going to committee, we were not selected as the matching family. This was quite a melancholic turn of events for us because we were excited that he was matched with a family, but certainly dejected that it wasn’t us.
Shortly after we were sent a picture and profile of a little girl from Ethiopia. Her physical needs were both a special need and congenital talipes equinovarus (club feet). We knew the special need could be treated and the club feet would be operated on prior to us adopting her. We felt so close to this little girl. She was born on Easter Sunday and her Amharic name meant holy of holies. We prayed that she would see us in her dreams as she slept in her crib at the Durame care center, and that when she first saw us, she would recognize us if only in her infantile subconscious. We named her Harper after Harper Lee (it was, after all, the 50th year anniversary of To Kill A Mockingbird). After three weeks of being her all-but-legally-adopted parents, we got a phone call from the director of the African department of Holt International. She said that Harper was found in her crib over the weekend and had died. Was it SIDS? Was she in pain? Was she alone when it happened? Could it have been prevented? The agency was not sure but an investigation would be carried out. Unfortunately for us, because we had not gone to court, we were not her legal guardians and so we weren’t privilege to any answers…and none ever came.
PART II:
ReplyDeleteMy wife and I began to question our every action for the entire year. We had been faithful in our giving, our time, had hoped to use this adoption as a platform to show others how wonderful grafting in a child can be. Now, we felt our story was tainted, and possibly even over.
Harper was born into poverty and neglect, physically disadvantaged, and lived most of her seven months in an orphanage. What is simply a sad story or another statistic, was the story of our daughter. I was in shock. It was such a strange juxtaposition. How was I supposed to grieve for this child that I never even met? I needed to place this pain on some sort of scale. There are no books about this and no one to empathize with. How do you find closure? How do you grieve appropriately without people removed from such a raw position thinking that you are milking an unfortunate situation?
The most penetrating question was "why?" Why were we supposed to accept her referral if this was going to be the outcome? Why was she given a second chance, a life with a family that would love her and care for her, only to have her life tragically end before she ever got that second chance?
The truth is that this is not an isolated incident. Children die every day, all over the world. Sometimes it is from diseases like, cancer, AIDS, or SIDS; things that cannot be cured. Sometimes it is from not having access to clean drinking water or from diseases, like malaria that are easily prevented and curable. The most heartbreaking part of this story, is the fact that there are thousands of children, just like Harper, who die in orphanages every day. Children who are every bit as special as Harper was, the only difference is that this time we have a picture and name to associate with this tragedy. I felt like Africa and God was laughing at me and Bono’s quote echoed through my mind all week, “Africa makes a fool of our idea of justice. It makes a farce of our idea of equality. It mocks our pieties. It doubts our concern. It questions our commitment.”
I tried, and at times still try to identify the purpose of her brief life. We knew this wasn't just some terrible accident on God’s part and that he knew Harper’s days before he formed her and that she was wonderfully made. We knew that in trying to live out our faith that God would challenge us. This was our “Dark Night of the Soul.”
PART III:
ReplyDeleteMy wife reminded me that we were not feeling anything that God himself had not felt for his own son and that we had so much to be thankful for in what He had opened our eyes to in the past year. This was no doubt a fall, but we were so confident that, even though we could not even imagine good coming from this, God’s purpose would be magnificent in such as way that only He could orchestrate. Not in a fatalistic Insha’ Allah manner such as: “It just wasn’t God’s will” or “He has a better plan.” I feel like surrendering to these types of mantras steals our biological and emotional need to grieve. I needed to ask questions, to ask God why, to NOT find comfort in people saying “His ways are higher than ours.” I didn’t want to swallow a panacea that we have developed that supports an idea that it is not okay to suffer and mourn, or that we should fake happiness through painful situations. Honestly, that is disgusting, and theologically unsound. I hope that I am getting my point across here. It isn’t that I didn’t think that God was in control, but that so often I think we expect others to move beyond grief because God has it in His hands. He is open to our grief and wants us to cry out to Him. I read this quote this past Saturday by Flannery O’Connor, “What people don't realize is how much religion costs. They think faith is a big electric blanket, when of course it is the cross. It is much harder to believe than not to believe. If you feel you can't believe, you must at least do this: keep an open mind. Keep it open toward faith, keep wanting it, keep asking for it, and leave the rest to God. "
The reason that my wife, children, and I are even at The Bridge now is because of this gut wrenching experience. Patrick allowed us to speak the Sunday after we found out about Harper. Honestly, I was not ready to talk about it, but from the outset of the adoption process, we knew that it wasn’t about us anyway. It actually turned out to be an incredible cathartic experience for us. After more conversations, coffee, and Zaxbys…Patrick and Jeff offered a ministry position that I had been seeking for almost a year! And it had nothing to do with adoption or our experience, but that was the “vehicle” that brought us in.
We were soon after matched with our son Micah. We love him just as dearly and cannot wait to meet him. I know this story isn’t over, in fact, we will be able to meet him on March 7 and then go back around May to bring him home…then comes the rest of his life as our son! I have been challenged to live life beyond the margins. "All around you, people will be tiptoeing through life, just to arrive at death safely. ... Run, hop, skip, or dance, just don't tiptoe." –Shane Claiborne
haha, thank you/sorry for the time you just invested in reading that, I didn't realize how enormous it was until I posted it all and then looked over it again.
ReplyDeleteIt was long, but worth it. What a story. I think the fact that you guys never stopped searching, never turned away, never lost the vision to help is a Win. I agree with you about the mourning. Just because we know it's in God's hands and his will doesn't and shouldn't change our emotional attachment to each other. Excitingly enough, it is our love for one another that answers Jesus’ prayers. Our caring and compassion of our fellow man (and WOman) is what sets us apart as Christians. Thanks for sharing.
ReplyDelete