In our first year of marriage, we started supporting International Justice Mission. IJM fights sex trafficking, forced labor, and corruption across the globe, all with the perspective that if God is a God of justice, then as His people we need to work towards justice.
We also started supporting four children with Compassion International. We picked four countries, four children. And we tithe. I don't say these things to appear good or right or even generous--- really this post just illustrates my distrusting heart. When Tom and I looked at the cost of adoption, the thought crossed my mind that since we were using our money towards a good cause, maybe we were justified in stopping all our other giving--- IJM, Compassion, and tithing-- in order to completely cover the cost of adoption. We would save a lot of money if we just stopped giving. AND, I further justified, our motive and purpose for halting our outflow was actually "right" and "noble" as well. If we did that, no one would blame us. I entertained that thought for about 30 seconds before I realized what was at the heart of my thought process: control and a lack of trust. Just because something appears "good" or "justified" does not mean that it is acceptable. We are very good at dressing up the white-washed parts of hearts to make them look presentable. Here's the problem with my thinking: first, I assumed the money we were giving away ever BELONGED to me to make a decision with. That money, in fact all of my possessions, are not mine-- they are just passing through my hands as the Lord entrusts them to me. So for me to direct those funds for my own preferences--EVEN GOOD PREFERENCES-- was prideful. Second, using that money to have more assurance in our own ability to pay for this adoption shows a lack of trust in God's promise to accomplish in us what He has called us to do. By keeping that money, I was trying to cover my doubts. I was trying to eliminate the unknowns and uncertainties of fundraising and also, to eliminate any pain of lifestyle cuts. Of course, He could at any time direct us to use that money for adoption-- that isn't the point. The point was the sneakiness of my heart, the subtlety of distrust, and my hesitation to sacrifice. In our two income, middle-class suburban world where risk is minimized, sacrifice is minimal, and security is a coveted illusion, how often does our faith suffer because we never lack any material provision? We never NEED because we never extend ourselves to the point of dependency on Him. Seeing God's faithfulness to us in this adoption process has challenged me to give generously and to sacrifice until it should hurt. The beautiful thing about sacrifice is that when it is done in love, it doesn't hurt. Losing your life doesn't hurt. You think it will, but that is just fear. Losing your life because of love-- that is partaking of Divinity. "He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain that which he cannot lose." Jim Elliot Here are links to the charities Tom and I support, in case you are interested too: International Justice Mission Compassion
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One of the easiest parts of our adoption process for me has been a lengthy, essay-question packet that asks me in depth questions about my life, my personality, my views on parenting, my extended family, my marriage, and my faith.
For Tom, this has been the most difficult part. I finished my packet in four hours. He could take four months. To be fair, they are very difficult, introspective questions, but what is more-- several of these questions are nearly impossible to answer if you haven't already had parenting experience (which of course, we have not). This brings up fears and doubts for him, and in turn, fears and doubts for me. One question asks "What will your discipline strategy be? How will you establish boundaries and consequences for your children?" Tom asked, jokingly, "Can I just put 'I don't know, I've never been a parent before? I'll just wing it and make it up as I go along?'" "No," I said. "I don't think that will fly with the adoption agency." I reminded Tom that when we first got married, he didn't know how to be a husband, but he is a great husband (the best, in my opinion). How did he suddenly learn how to be an amazing husband when he had no prior experience? It wasn't his wisdom or strength he relied on. It was Christ working in him. Without reliance on Christ to step in for our inadequacies and weaknesses, I have no doubt our marriage would be a wreck. For example, take our disagreements. I grew up in a house with three brothers. So in a disagreement, in order to have your voice heard or win a "battle," you have to dig your heels in, raise your voice, and refuse to give an inch. Compromise equates to losing. In early disagreements, I tried this strategy with Tom and took up a firm stance of defiance. But one thing Tom quickly did in our early disagreements was he reminded me he was on my side, he was for my good, and all of his decisions were made thinking of my best interest in front of his own. I didn't need to fight him because he was already fighting for me. Whew. That shut me up and humbled me pretty quickly. How could I dig my heels in against someone who so humbly showed me love? It didn't take me long to realize this was an example of Christ's love for me and my relationship with Him. I don't have to spend my quiet times making my case to God. I don't have to dig in my heels against Him. I don't have to have a stance of defiance. Because even more so than my husband, God is for my good. He has plans to prosper me, not to harm me. I don't have to fight my own battles. I don't have to raise my voice and state my case because He sees me and furthermore, He can see the path before. God used Tom to reveal an aspect of Himself. This example of Christ in our marriage serves as a very real promise to me: in my moments of weakness as a parent, He can use me to reveal Himself to my children. Furthermore, in this specific example I see the powerful ability of love to disarm our built up defenses and erase the harm of our past. I no longer try to defend an individual position in a disagreement because I've learned from Tom's example. My past bad habits have been disarmed by love. My children will most definitely arrive with harm, with a past, and with a wall of defenses. Playing tug of war or a battle of the wills is not the solution; disarming them with love--- showing them we are for their good--- is what we need to do. While I have thought of the power of disarming children's defenses with love, I have found myself thinking about how this applies to people I come across every day. Isn't every gruff response, every insult, every hurtful action a defense to protect one's self, an act of self-preservation? We are all walking around trying to save ourselves, trying to look out for our best interests. But what if we were freed from that burden because we have someone who is already fighting for us? Freed because our life here is temporary. Freed because our inheritance cannot be taken. Freed because our identities are clearly defined and valued. Freed to love because we are loved. I really like to judge the Israelites from the Old Testament. They are idiots. How could you worship a golden calf when God is clearly working among you and has shown you His rescue and redemption? How could you make demands and feel insecure when He has worked miracles in your midst?
And yet if I were to analyze the timeline of my life and then examine my own heart, I am an Israelite. I have seen God's hand move in my life and I have seen His provision, rescue, and redemption over and over and over. Why, then, do I wrestle and negotiate to hold on to my idols? My idols are NOT inherently evil and thus, easily extracted from my life. They are actually good things meant to be blessings, but I continually allow them to dethrone Christ in my heart and become all-encompassing and consuming with my thoughts and time. To rid myself of these idols, I would have to physically lose my life; therefore, I must wrestle each day to place my idols in their proper place-- there is no easy fix of avoidance or extraction. And there is no one time "placement" of my idols-- it must be a daily choice. I have learned I will fail if I try to stay away from my idols-- that will only fixate me more on holding onto them with a tight fist-- how stupid my heart is. I know these idols are fleeting, temporary representations of the Creator-- nothing worthy of being worshipped. And yet stiff-necked sinner that I am, I often give them all of my time, energy, thoughts, and affections. Willingly and gladly. Time and again. Like the idiot Israelites. Rather than trying to loosen my grip on my idols on my own, the solution is this: Stand at the foot of the cross with my tight-fisted claim on my idols. Just spend time at the foot of the cross. Forget about trying to put those idols down-- just go spend time with Christ. Just worship Him. Remember all His provision and promises. Be in awe. It has never failed-- when I stand in awe, I cannot resist opening my hands to worship Him. I cannot resist putting down those idols-- it is suddenly not even a choice, but an overwhelming compulsion that stems from my awe and gratitude. Those idols are still there, but they are in their proper place-- below me and below Christ--not between us. Thus, they are no longer idols. And I am no longer exhausted and spent from wrestling over futile things. Today I am thankful that His greatness overwhelms any frivolity of this temporal life that would seek to gain our affections. Just like the stiff-necked Israelites, we have the grandness of God in our presence. We can choose to focus on it or continue wandering in our futile efforts. At the beginning of every year, Tom and I set goals. Monthly and annual goals for our spiritual, professional, physical, and financial lives. In light of the expense of our adoption, I suggested we each pick something to forgo. While this decision is indeed practical in the sense that we are saving money, it also addresses the spirit of what we want to accomplish--- adoption should cost us something in a very tangible and uncomfortable way. We cannot raise support for our adoption if we have not first gone out of our way to give until it hurts.
You guys, I am so embarrassed at what I gave up. When I think about it, I can't help but laugh. It's just so ridiculous and petty. If you think I'm writing this post to impress people with my "sacrificing," my next sentence will assure you that I am in no way impressive. I gave up pedicures. It is ok if you scoff or laugh or roll your eyes. Because yes, that is such an absurd frivolity-- the definition of a first world sacrifice. I think about it and I am almost embarrassed at how spoiled I am. Also, in writing this post, I've discovered that I can't really spell the word "embarrassed" without spell check. Anyway, I should explain that in my superficiality, pedicures became my monthly retreat on weekends when I had a lot of grading or studying to do. I would get a stack of papers or essays to read, go to my favorite nail salon, pick out a color and then sit back and relax for an hour while Tina (yes, I was on a first name basis with her), made all of this runner's calluses go away. Cause as a runner, my feet get pretty bad. So pedicures, for me, were considered essential. Cue the violin strings. It wasn't until I verbalized what I was giving up that I heard how trivial and pathetic my choice was. And how removed from reality and necessity my perspective has become. Now, if you get pedicures on a regular basis, I'm not judging because girl (or...guy), I am right there with you. We can spend money on ourselves and still have an eternal perspective. And we can still make a sacrifice, and regardless of how big or small it is, the actual gesture is not what God is pleased with. It is the heart. Yesterday, Tom and I started "7." I am praying it postures our heart to be sensitive to God and His plans for our lives. We are at so many crossroads. And yet, the extras of our life-- the excesses-- can make it seem like the crossroads are more convoluted than they really are. Our choices should be simple because God's commands are simple-- Love Him, love others. Giving up things should be really easy when we have the right perspective--- all the excesses of this life are fleeting pleasures. When we narrow our focus on Christ-- on who He truly, truly is-- the things of this life fade away. They are no longer things we reluctantly sacrifice, but merely temporary shadows that are peripheral. Our running internal dialogue of concern with ourselves (Our appearance, our next meal, our achievements, our social status, our security, our comfort) all fade away when are thoughts are consumed with the greatness of Christ. |
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