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The rest of the story (or the beginning of the story...)

I had just had a slightly unordinary morning. It started with some routine car work, followed by a call to 911 for a sick neighbor. That commotion lead to a conversation with another neighbor that challenged my mind and my heart tremendously, reminding me that the mission field is basically in my backyard and not necessarily across the ocean. I'd been awake only a few hours and I already had plenty to think and pray on.

On days like that God seems to be heightening all my senses - physically and spiritually. I felt prickly all over with expectation that He was up to something.

It was labor day weekend and, after that eventful morning, I found myself enjoying a sunny afternoon with my friend Evelyn at the little coffeehouse in my neighborhood known as Cuppies and Joe.

Evelyn was telling me how God had laid it on her heart to foster - and eventually adopt - a little girl. I shared my excitement with her about this news. Foster and adoption care is something I had been asking God to allow me to play a part in for quite some time. Recently, I had done some mentoring and I had volunteered at a foster shelter. I had been wondering if becoming a foster parent was for me, but sensed it wasn't quite for me or at least not for me yet.

My friend is vibrant and beautiful. In many ways, she is wise beyond her years. She is also unmarried. By pursuing fostering/adoption she would, even if only for a season, be deliberately choosing single motherhood. Taking that into consideration, my response was excitement but also caution as I said, "Well I'm sure you would want to raise this little girl in close Christian community. You can't do this alone."

She agreed, having thought the same already, and said that ideally she would live with at least one other Christian woman.

I said I'd have a room available in November.

Have you ever desired and prayed for something so long that when the answer to that prayer comes there is no hesitation just an open door to walk through? That is the best way I can describe this.

I love reflecting on the stepping stones in my history that show how God had been placing this desire on my heart and providing the means to fulfill that desire:

Dec 2007- "The weeping child will find a home. You, Jessica, will be a home for a little one." (letter of prayers/prophecy from an assignment for a prophetic training group)

Feb 2012- "As long as I can remember I've wanted to take care of orphans/children. I hope and plan to do that in some way - through this trip or whatever God wills...The only specifics I sense a calling in is to children (especially the fatherless) and a call to discipleship. I have a desire to meet practical needs. But what makes me happiest and what I get energized the most in is connecting with people on a spiritual and personal level and seeing them grow in that area." (in an application for a mission trip to Kenya)

March 2012- "Then, this past August I did something incredibly scary/crazy for me - I bought a house. Ever since I was a kid I have dreamt of taking people in - orphans, people who are poor materially, or people who are broken emotionally or spiritually. I now have a physical place that can help fulfill that dream. The taking in will follow. God has totally provided and it is all so amazing and good! (Kenya support letter to friends and family)

I hope you read my previous post, because here is where it matters. When I say in that last paragraph "ever since I was a kid" I am actually remembering a 5 year old girl, on the other side of the Atlantic, in the midst of the gibberish of Italian kindergartners, talking to a good Father. It was there that I first prayed the kind of things mentioned above.

So.

Believe me when I say

                  

                  ...in hope and faith...

                                

                                that this next chapter has been a couple decades in the making.

The practical details: It's really only a room in my house that I'm giving. I will have no legal responsibility for this child, I just plan to be a supportive friend in all of this. I've completed 24 out of the 27 hours of parenting classes required for any adult in the home. Background checks are also complete. And, most of all, I want to ensure in whatever way I can that this home is a place of safety, grace, healing, and love.

Now, did I know what I was asking for when I was a kindergartner and I first started praying about these things?

No. Not a chance.

(Remember? Common theme in my prayer life?)

It's been a little over twenty years since those first prayers for this. I'd be lying if I said this is all looking exactly how I imagined it would look. Or if I said that I have all the same desires and prayers today that I had when I was 5. Like my prayer to go to school, these prayers could lead to desert or garden. More likely it will be something ordinary in between. Or all of the above.

What I do know for certain though is that what is coming to my house this summer in the form of a fatherless child is an answer to prayer.

I also know that God hears us. And He does have better ways for us than our own ways.

I know that He is faithful.

I know that He uses all things for my good.

He uses an "accident" like colliding cars to intersect lives from opposite sides of the world to bring about His purposes.

He takes desert times and transforms them into precious intimacy and growth.

He uses His answers to our prayers - even unwitting and childishly motivated prayers - to bring about good.

He takes the small and simple desires of a little girl and He transforms her heart again and again to make her more and more His very own.

He has done it before.

He will do it again.

He is faithful. He is faithful. He is faithful.

When prayers come true

God answers prayer. I can share more than a few good stories to support that statement. But what I want to share right now is the very first time I can remember experiencing this truth.

I was 5 years old. I had just learned I wouldn't be going to the kindergarten I wanted to go to. My family lived in Italy at the time and my parents had decided they wanted me to go to an Italian school. They had one requirement though. They were only looking for a school that would let me attend for half the day.

We visited a school within walking distance of our home. I walked the halls with my parents and played on the monkey bars and swings of the school playground. That was really all I needed to arrive at the conclusion that this school was the right place for me. The head teacher told my parents they only accepted students full-time. Half-days were not an option. My parents wouldn't be sending me to this school. I was crestfallen and my mom knew it. She told me I could pray about it though.

I remember praying.

Now hear this: I don't think the concept of God's sovereignty was much comprehended by my 5 year old brain. It didn't occur to me that maybe it didn't matter what I prayed because God was going to do whatever He wanted anyway. I didn't include in my prayer the acceptable number of "God's will be done" clauses knowing it's what every good Christian does. Pretty much my only motivations to pray at the time were that I liked the playground and I really wanted to go to school instead of being at home all day. But I didn't wonder and worry over how right or wrong my motivations were. I just prayed.

So. I was 5 years old. I had just learned I wouldn't be going to the kindergarten I wanted to go to. And I prayed.

Shortly after, my mom and I were running errands in the family car and my mom pulled into a gas station. I was sitting in the front passenger seat. The car had manual drive, so when my mom accidentally put the car into neutral instead of park we began to roll slowly forward, hitting the car ahead of us. My mom didn't know Italian and the Italian woman whose car we'd just collided with didn't speak English. So that conversation was interesting. Fortunately numbers cross the language barrier more easily than words. My mom and her victim exchanged phone numbers and home addresses. The next day the Italian woman showed up on our doorstep. She invited my parents to dinner. They went, wisely bringing a friend along who knew the language well enough to help translate.

My parents and their friend enjoyed wine, food, and genuine Italian hospitality. The Del Mascios didn't really care about their car much at all - they were just excited to get to know some Americans! Over the course of the meal the conversation turned to kids. My parents told the Del Mascio's about finding a school for my sister in nearby Sacile. Then they told the Del Mascios how they had looked at a school for me but that the school wouldn't accept me on my parent's terms. The Del Mascios asked what school my parents had visited. My parents told them. Mr. Del Mascio began to laugh. "I am the principal of that school! Of course your daughter can attend for half the day!"

My parents were amazed.

I was beyond excited.

God had heard the prayer of a little girl.

I actually didn't know what I was asking for.

(Oh what a common theme this would become for me).  

You see, I don't know about anyone else, but for me it was definitely hard to be away from my parents when I was 5. And not just to be away from them, but to be surrounded by strangers who didn't speak the same language as me. And not just to be surrounded by funny talking strangers but to have teachers whose rigidness and roughness needed no translation for me to understand I was not an absolute delight to them at all times. (Go figure - dramatic emotionalism isn't popular with Italian kindergarten teachers). Even though it was hard - or, you know, probably because it was hard -  it was at this school that I began to experience God as my friend. There's something about being constantly in a crowd of people who cannot understand you that leads you to talk to the only Person who can.

God was very near and real to me there. He taught me to trust Him with whatever I was thinking or feeling. He taught me to listen to Him. He taught me in class. He taught me on that dearly loved playground. He had answered the prayer of a little girl.  He knew full well it would lead to that little girl being lonely and sad and frustrated. But He taught me and led me. He loved me. He came in close - so very, very close.

I eventually learned the language some and enjoyed playing with my school friends. But it was not before learning that God knew me and heard me best.

God's answer to my prayer led to a time and place that was not always easy for me. Regardless, it was still an answer to prayer. We all face difficulties in our life. This experience was a big deal to a 5 year old but it's small fries now and not anything at all when compared to what many others have gone through. But what we can all know and trust about God is that He truly uses difficulties for good. For me He used this time to begin to teach me how to talk to Him and how to hear His voice. And I am so grateful.

continued in next post

The Foolishness of God

     I was struck by something someone said the other day. It was this: "Of the three persons of the Trinity, Jesus is the one I most relate to." I scoffed a little under my breath thinking "typical Gentile thing to say - of course Jesus is your favorite. You wouldn't be part of this whole thing at all if it weren't for Him".

     I scoffed because I believe that we should strive to relate well to every person of the supernatural, mind-blowing Being that is God.* Not just the part of God that we are comfortable with. If you notice that there is One of this mysterious Three that you have difficulty relating to, pray to God you don't stay such a stranger to Him forever. This was my train of thought: "How can this guy say he relates less well to some of the persons of the Godhead???!!!"

     Don't get me wrong, I understood where this guy was coming from {I think}. He expressed that Jesus was personal and relatable as a human being just like we are. He went on to say that the Holy Spirit has that whole "ghost"/elusive thing going on so that's hard to relate to, and then I think maybe said something about the Father feeling more distant/less relatable. {Difficult though it may be, let's try not to draw freudian conclusions from this statement..haha}.

     Still riding this train of thought, I suddenly found myself on the receiving end of my own judgement I was so swiftly passing on him {Holy Spirit much?}.
   
     I realized that I, personally, relate least well to the person of Jesus Christ. {Kettle caller = me.}
 
     The Father I know well.  I think for many people the Father is an easy concept and person to know. His will is supreme. He is to be prayed to. I think even people who don't believe in God have this general idea who God is and what they tend to picture is actually characteristic of who the Father is. For me, He has always provided, always protected. He looks after me. He directs. Jesus said He came not to do His own will but the will of the Father's. The Father is who I submit and surrender to. But He is oh-so-loving as well. He is safety. He is security. Like studies of children with involved fathers certainly testify, it is the involvement of my loving Father who provides for me so well that enables me to be independent, motivated, and free.

     The Holy Spirit I also know well. That is because I have tasted and seen. Experience is the best teacher and the Holy Spirit knows how to teach well. The experiences He has taken me through are unexplainable except by experience. If one has not experienced the power, presence, and fruit of the Holy Spirit, it is not likely that one would find the Holy Spirit relatable. So if that is you pray to God for more of the Holy Spirit's presence! The remarkable thing about God - and I think this thing is marvelously displayed in the Holy Spirit - is that there is always, always, always more. So you ask for more today, but remember, even as He answers with Himself there is still more to ask for. For me the Holy Spirit has been the most fun, the most mysterious, the most powerful, the most transforming presence I have ever known or ever will know.

     Then there is Jesus. He has existed eternally, yes. But He also appeared in bodily form in a specific point in history. That point in history was a little before my time. He feels a little distant. I believe in my heart that He exists and that He walked this earth and was who He said He was. But I definitely have a hard time wrapping my mind around Him and what He did. I thought how easy it must be for many to understand the "Father" idea of God  - provider, protector, providential guidance and in control of all things. I thought of how accessible and personal the Holy Spirit is to those who accept Him (And even to those who don't. I have heard of and know personally people who have had crazy experiences with the supernatural power that is God's Spirit and yet don't accept God on the whole.).  As I thought on these things, I realized the truth of what Jesus said about Himself. He is "the stone that the builders rejected".  Jesus makes the audacious claim that He is the bread of life, that his bread is His flesh, and that He will give it for the life of the world. Jesus goes on to say that anyone who feeds on and drinks of Him will live forever. (John ch 6 beginning in verses 35 and following).

When He said this, many people who had been following Him up to this point turn away.

After saying these things, after making claims that He is providing the way the only way to eternal life and that He is doing this all in accordance with the Father's will...
...people leave. It is too much.

God is a man?

Sacrilege.

You are just a man. You look just like us. You wear dirty, human skin. Our God is too holy for that. You blasphemer.

Yet God Himself promised it would happen this way**

"He grew up before him like a tender shoot,

and like a root out of dry ground.

He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him,

nothing in his appearance that we should desire him.

He was despised and rejected by mankind,

a man of suffering, and familiar with pain.

Like one from whom people hide their faces

he was despised, and we held him in low esteem.

Surely he took up our pain and bore our suffering,

yet we considered him punished by God,

stricken by him, and afflicted.

But he was pierced for our transgressions,

he was crushed for our iniquities;

the punishment that brought us peace was on him,

and by his wounds we are healed."

I may never comprehend this ludicrousness with my mind alone. I hope I may begin to comprehend it though if my heart, soul, and strength join in the task. And maybe through your eyes too I might begin to know Jesus better.

"Jews demand signs and Greeks look for wisdom, but we preach Christ crucified: a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, but to those whom God has called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. For the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than human strength."

bunnytrails: 

*"strive" is maybe not the best word to use- Holy Spirit works in us to grow us in relationship to Himself - but I didn't know how else to form that sentence.

**about 600 years before Jesus appeared on the scene. (Isaiah 53)

You are patient and loving. You are slow to anger and so full of mercy. You don't desire that any would be lost but that all would come to repentance. You are perfect and holy. You are limitless. How can I understand You? How can I possibly. Ever. Understand You.

But I confess that instead of even trying at all in the face of that daunting task of knowing You, I turn in fear. I give up. I give so little. I give so little effort. I know my inadequacy. I'm scared. I'm scared I can't know You. Because I have tried, but there is so much to know. And not just of You but of everything in creation. And I could spend my entire life studying one portion of that creation - be it the planets and stars, one of the any 8.7 ish million species on earth, the psychology of humans, the weather, archeology, geology. And there could still be many things I do not know. 

I am selfish. It is easier to not know. To not try. To not keep seeking, learning, growing, asking, knocking.

Thank You. Oh dear God, thank You that I don't have to do this alone. I don't have to dedicate a career to becoming an expert in who You are. I will do all that I can, to the best of my ability, with the mind You have given me. I will do this with all of my heart. With all of my soul.

But what I know in part, You are revealing, in Your timing, to the whole. Let me learn with the whole. Let me comprehend You with every sinew and ligament. With every bone and muscle. With the follower of Jesus who is so similar to me. And with the follower of Jesus that is so different. With the follower of Jesus who is so easy and the one who is so hard. With the one I always agree with. And with the one who always seems to disagree with me.  If only they could see what I see and know what I know than we would be just the same and it would be so simple! {And we would know You so much less}. 

I know that Your way is what I actually need. This stretching and growing. I do not want to be blind like the men in the old Indian story who all feel a different part of the same elephant and think they know how to describe what it looks like. You, Father, cannot possibly ever be understood if those who are in Christ hold to our own opinion stronger than the truth that is the whole. You are doing the forming and growing of Your Bride. You are doing it. And I want to be part of this perfect unity. I want to be part of this bigger thing that You are doing. Thank you for choosing a way that forces humility on me. {It is not for me to know if there is any other way I could have learned it.}

Father put Your will inside of me  -  of us -  may we together share Your desires. May we see what You see, weep for that which You weep for. May we truly hear each other. May we truly listen. May we learn from our weaknesses and grow in our strengths.