Where it began

Chan.
I fully blame him.
It all started with a pretty red book with a catchy title.
Guessed it?
Yup, Crazy Love.
Sheesh.

If you haven't read it, don't.
That is unless you want to stay awake at night asking yourself the big questions.
Well, I don't know if they're big or not, but it sounded right.
Stay up at night looking around you and wondering why, where and what.
Why do you have so much? Where to begin? And what do you need?

And then more...how on earth do we truly show love for our Savior, the One who shows us a seriously CRAZY LOVE?

So yeah, Francis Chan, this is all on you.

After I read that book, I really started to feel God convicting me about my lifestyle and whether it is a reflection of a loving God and my relationship with Him. I know that it was conviction and not condemnation because the thought of making changes in my life was like a weight lifted. I didn't feel depressed or guilty, although I did kick myself for taking so long to start to see these things.

But it really gave me new eyes, seeing people and the world a tiny bit more the way Jesus must see people. To Him all of my success, wealth, prosperity, it means nothing. In fact, it is rarely ever more than a distraction. How much time have I spent wrapped up in those things when I could have been hanging out with Jesus, showing others His love? Ugh...hopeless I tell you. truly I am hopeless.

So I was on a roll for all of two weeks and then I realized it was just too hard. So I distracted myself with other things. I started getting really into Bible theology and studying different denominations and beliefs, learning the differences and scouring the scriptures for the "Right" answer. I found answers to some things and others remained a mystery. And man oh man, the "right fighter" in me just couldn't stand it. I was pestering pastors and elders with my questions, my arguments, my confusion....something just wasn't fitting. There was still some little piece missing. As many questions as I had answered, I was still not content. I thought I needed to know more. I downloaded about three billion theology books, stayed up reading websites from various seminaries, devoured creeds and confessions. I was learning a lot. My knowledge bank was getting fuller and fuller.

But somehow, I still felt called to more. SOMETHING was missing.

And then by some crazy turn of events, my husband and I moved our family to Colorado to take advantage of a great job opportunity. Even though we were moving for a job, I kept telling myself and friends that God had some big plans for us and I just didn't know what they were yet. I kept having this sneaking feeling that God was taking me there for a very particular reason, other than my husband's job and the gloriously fresh air.

And in just over a month, we were off on our adventure. The first thing I noticed about Colorado was the beauty of it. Everything was just breathtaking. The Rocky Mountains on one side and the Great Plains on the other. The incredible blue skies and giant white clouds. Snow here and there. It was just gorgeous. Then, once we entered the city limits of Colorado Springs, I started to see signs of poor and homeless communities. I've talked a little bit about the demographics here so I won't bore you with that, but within the first week or two of being here I was completely overcome with this burden for the marginalized here in Colorado Springs. It was just so close, impossible to ignore. And I knew, clear as day I heard God tell me, this is why I was brought here. To learn how to live my life serving the least, loving the least as God does, sacrificing my own ridiculous luxuries and giving of myself. I started to see that God may have meant what He said literally, to serve the poor. Hmmm...what an idea.

I shared this tug on my heart with some close friends and they all suggested different books and directions, reaching out to churches, toys for tots, etc. One of the books suggested, I had waiting on my Kindle. Downloaded two years earlier. Literally. Sad, huh? Shane Claiborne's Irresistible Revolution.
Yeah. Thanks a lot Shane. I know you get this a lot, but you seriously messed up my mojo here in my little bubble. I thought that I just needed to learn more, really dissect the Bible and tear up theology. Maybe go to seminary. True story, I really looked into it. But I think I've realized that what has been missing is not knowledge, but actually living Christ's love. Living the Christian life that He showed us in His word. Wha??!!
I know. Tough stuff.

So there it is, there's the beginning. This journey is gonna get crazy, I'm pretty sure. Bear with me, or don't. It's okay.

Here goes nothing....wait, no, that's not right.

Here goes EVERYTHING!

Learning grace

After I found out about my father, I just kinda shook it off. I talked with a couple friends at the time, but I was in high school and I really didn't know how to deal with it or the feelings that the news had created. I remember telling my friend that I didn't know how to feel because even though it seemed like major life-changing news, it didn't change my life at all, so now what?

I went quite a few years telling myself I felt that way, but always secretly wondering so many things. A few months after my parents told me, I asked my mom some questions. What my biological father's name was, what he looked like, what he was like, where was he now, etc. The questions seemed to make my mother uneasy. She told me his first name but never told me his last. She said that he looked like Clint Eastwood when Clint Eastwood was younger and she said that she had a photograph of him and I, but had misplaced it. And then she told me that I had a dad and had no reason to want to know my biological father. After that conversation, I knew that it would hurt her and my dad if I brought up these questions any more, so I dismissed them and moved on.

But it has never left my thoughts for a single day. I just can't help but wonder so many things. I wonder if he's ever tried to find me. Or if he has children, do they know about me? I wonder why he never came back? I wonder if any of my kids look like him. I wonder if he is still living in Australia? Or New Zealand near his mother? Is she still alive? Does he love Jesus? Will I ever see him? It feels like a half of me is not there. Nothing is known about half of me. A mystery.

As I got a little older it started to become more and more real to me. More of something that kinda hurt my heart. I felt guilty for feeling that because there are so many children who don't have parents at all. I pray every day for God to be the one to fill that void. But for quite a few years I was not seeking God and in those years it really hurt that someone, my father, wanted nothing to do with me. It was hard for me to reconcile. It made me feel inferior somehow.

I have learned that people will always let us down. We are a lonely and selfish existence. There is nothing good in any of us and without God's hands around our hearts and His spirit in our lives, we are incapable of loving anyone or making any choices towards righteousness. It has made me look at people differently also. If they have not been filled with God's righteousness, then they are not capable of doing anything "good." Everything will be sinful, selfish and wrong. It is literally impossible apart from God. And so I am learning to forgive. And to pray for the people in my life who have hurt me. But it is hard...so very hard. Because I am still battling my flesh, still dying to self to live for Him. But the glimpses I get of His righteousness make me know that it is perfect. This grace that I have received is to be shared.

I forgive my father for leaving. I forgive him for rejecting me. I am so thankful that God has given me this grace and love to share and continue to pray that this work in me will be completed and that I may serve Him in every moment of my days.