Archived entries for Faith

ShePonders: Fasting

On Lent, fasting and what God requires of us.

“We are not able to substitute a forty-day fast for daily habits of justice.”

By Kelley Johnson-Nikondeha | Twitter: @keljnik

On the eve of Ash Wednesday, many of the faithful turn their thoughts to fasting. “What should I fast for the forty days of Lent?”  However, I imagine other questions circulating like: “What is the purpose of fasting? Does fasting even work?”

God seems to speak right into this very line of questioning in Isaiah 58. I’d like to imagine that He said these words right before a holy day or amid the preparations for a religious festival on the Jewish calendar. Right in the thick of the ritual fast, right as the people were questioning the efficacy of fasting … He spoke.

The people ask God why He does not give them His divine attention as they are fasting and sacrificing so much. And the response: “You call this a fast?  You might be denying yourself some little things but you continue to indulge in injustice by paying low wages, exploiting your workers, quarreling and getting into fist fights.”

God then outlined the kind of fast that would get His attention:

“ … to break the chains of injustice, get rid of exploitation in the workplace, free the oppressed, cancel debts.” (The Message)

He continued saying that when we share our food, our home, our clothes and our time with our neighbors, then we will have His attention.

When we participate in the work of justice–it is a holy and God-ordained enterprise. When we are advocating for land rights, refusing to purchase goods made with slave labor, securing identity cards for women at the margins and demanding better education in the ghetto, we work in tandem with God. When we engage in such work, we already have His proximity, His presence and His undivided attention. When we pay fair wages to our employees, create safe work environments, help a single mother with childcare or invite a famished friend to our table–we already have God’s attention.

God does not require a ritual fast, He asks for us to be good neighbors. We are not able to substitute a forty-day fast for daily habits of justice. So fasting does not work as a gimmick to garner God’s attention. We know that He is near to the broken-hearted and so when we draw near to them as well, we are all closer to Him as we move toward justice, abundance and goodness in the neighborhood.

But God is not done with His admonition. He tells the dissatisfied fasters that if they begin to feed the hungry and tend to the afflicted, amazing things will begin to happen around them! God promises to guide them, nourish and strengthen them. And then there is this:

“You’ll use the old rubble of past lives to build anew, rebuild the foundation from out of your past. You’ll be known as those who can fix anything, restore old ruins, rebuild, renovate, make the community livable again.” (The Message)

The image here is of a rundown neighborhood– a ghetto or slum. This broken-down place has been abandoned over the years, all those who could moved out to the suburbs where there were better schools and safer streets. Nothing works right in the ‘hood, just a tangle of people trying to get by on the crumbs of society. Sometimes they resort to violence and other vices–it is a hard place and nowhere you want to live. We drive a few extra miles in our air-conditioned cars to avoid this very place.

But when we care about neighbors and neighborhoods, we are drawn to these trouble spots.  We sit on the stoop and listen to the elderly speak, we watch the kids cut across the dilapidated playground and we see the women at the bus stop returning from the day shift.  And then we start to imagine something better for these neighbors.

We become known as “the fixers” who can come in and set things right and get things done!  We know how to take the old and repurpose it, to refurbish the run-down homes and renovate (dare we say innovate) schools.  We become those who carry God’s potential for newness into the neighborhood, transforming it into a livable community. Lives and landscapes transformed by neighborliness … this is what God had in mind all along.

And as neighborhoods are turned around, we are given new names:

“You shall be called the repairer of the breach, the restorer of streets to live in.”

God beckons us to be good neighbors, the kind of neighbors who little by little, one kindness at a time, reimagine and renovate entire neighborhoods. 

“Good neighbors, not good fasters.  This is what gets God’s attention.”

One thing that is clear in God’s comment on fasting is that He does not desire religious rituals in place of justice. He does not want fasting on holy days– but rather justice every day.  He does not want us to bring our offering to the temple if we have some unresolved matter with a friend. God wants us to be good neighbors–so justice and reconciliation always come before rituals, even before the spiritual practices of fasting and almsgiving.

I embrace the practice of fasting as a valuable spiritual discipline. I will be fasting for Lent. But I believe that fasting is about soul-shaping, not a means to get God’s attention and never a substitute for daily rhythms of neighborliness.

I want to have a new name – something along the lines of “the restorer of streets to live in.” In order to be that woman, the practice of fasting just might help me shave off some rough edges and reorient my heart. Fasting is a tool in my hand, not a gimmick or magic trick. For me, the practice of fasting will help shape me into a woman worthy of a name change!

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My dear SheLoves friends, I’d love to hear:

  • What has been your experience with fasting?
  • Are you planning on a fast for Lent?
  • Any other thoughts or comments?

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About Kelley:

Kelley Johnson Nikondeha is co-director of Amahoro Africa and international staff member of Community of Faith with her husband Claude. She’s a thinker, connector, advocate, avid reader and mother of two beautiful children. Kelley lives between Arizona and Burundi. She loves handwritten letters, homemade pesto and anything written by Walter Brueggemann.

Wellness Wednesday: Why Hide? My Journey of Hope, Faith and Overcoming

By Kerstin Knaack | Twitter: @KerstinKnaack

” If I don’t share my life and the difficult journey I have made, it will be harder for God to work through me.”

I am ten weeks pregnant. It takes courage for me to tell you that.

Why? This is my fourth pregnancy–my first three babies are in heaven.

I am from Germany. There, we don’t usually tell people we are pregnant until the fourth month of pregnancy. But several weeks ago, I went to Brazil and found out the women there announce their pregnancies as soon as they have a positive test in their hands. I asked why they do this, considering most miscarriages occur within the first three months. They said that in their culture, they celebrate and mourn together. If something happens to the baby, they come to the mother’s side, offering everything from a big hug to cooking for her or massaging her feet. Whatever she needs, they journey with her.

Loss

My first miscarriage was in 2009 in the eighth week; the second was in 2011 in the 33rd week and the third was at the end of 2011 in the 12th week. All these losses were difficult, but to give birth to a dead baby in the ninth month of pregnancy was definitely the most painful.

After the third miscarriage, I wasn’t able to pray or worship. My heart ached, but I had good friends who carried me through. When I was far from God, they spoke life and truth over me. My church gathered around and carried me. When I couldn’t pray, they prayed for me; when I couldn’t worship, they worshiped for me.

I knew that death doesn’t come from God — He is love and nothing bad comes from him—but He did allow this to happen.

Restoration

After several weeks, I reached a place where I was able to think about my situation in a different way. If God allowed this to happen, there must be something good within these situations. This was a turning point for me—I wanted to turn bad into good. It was a decision, not a feeling. I chose to no longer accept being bound by lies.

So many good things happened as a result of my miscarriages:

- my marriage to my husband Rainer became stronger and we decided to give 100 percent of our lives to God, stepping into His purpose for us

- the opportunity developed to do an internship at Relate Church, Canada, with Pastors John and Helen Burns

- my father returned to my life after 28 years of rejection

- friends put their lives into Jesus’ hands.

Overcoming

From now on, I will no longer hide. I have discovered that it is healthy for me to talk about how I feel and which thoughts and emotions have kept me away from God. If I don’t share my life and the difficult journey I have made, it will be harder for God to work through me. I want Him to use me to help other women and to fulfill His plan.

That’s why I am openly telling people that I am pregnant for the fourth time.

Is it easy for me to enjoy my pregnancy? Definitely not. Every day I am reminded of the past, the positive pregnancy tests; pictures of my big belly; the ultrasounds; the decorated nursery; the movements in my belly; memories of the day I was told our daughter had passed away; the pain of giving birth to a dead baby and the joy of having her in our arms; the invoice from the funeral parlor.

Stepping Forward in Faith

How do I deal with these images and the daily fear of possibly having the same pain again? There is no magic solution–it’s a journey every day. I think back to those Brazilian women, who understand what sisterhood means and I know that if I fall, my sisterhood will carry me. And I talk about it. If I am overwhelmed by fear, I ask my husband or a friend to help me.

The opposite of fear is faith. God holds my life in His hands. I trust Him.

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 About Kerstin

Kerstin Knaack was born and raised in the city of Kirchheim, Germany. She and her husband Rainer are currently involved in an internship at Relate Church in Surrey, BC, where they are learning to be leaders and teachers in the area of  marriage, family and sexuality.  Their long-term vision is to teach on these topics and to raise a large family of their own.

 

 

 

 

Mercy: A Daily Practice of Digging for Truth

A daily practice + shedding lies + seeing God’s unconditional Love = Journey to Freedom. 

By Musu Taylor-Lewis | Twitter: @mercycanada

Her voice is strong today, almost matter-of-fact as she explains where her journey started, trying to earn God’s love. A downward spiral that led to self-harm, despair and eventually an attempted suicide.

“I was nine years old when I was molested … It was around this time that I began to lose sight of God’s love for me. I began to feel like I was falling apart from the inside out. I began to believe the lies that there was something inherently wrong with me, something broken that could never be fixed and that no one cared.”

Who could blame her?  When it comes to deep and baffling pain, or even the tentacles of shame, any of us could lose sight of God’s unconditional love. Let alone a nine-year-old girl. We see the reflex to withdraw already in the Garden of Eden when the first pair of humans realized they had made a wrong choice.

“Losing sight of God’s love.” It’s a common theme we find with the young women who come through the doors of Mercy Ministries. Whatever the trigger–abuse, school pressure, a harsh word from a parent or even misunderstanding God’s love–the light of God’s love is dimmed each time a seemingly-logical lie gets repeated, whether in the privacy of the mind or out loud.

Thoughts like:

-“God wasn’t there when I was hurting.”

- “Nobody cares.”

- “If I do more, maybe He would love me.”

- “I’m too bad for God’s reach.”

That is why I’ve fallen in love with one particular daily exercise carried out by the residents at Mercy. I’ve watched how this exercise helps restore the ability to see God’s love. I’ve learned this: Seeing, grasping, knowing and understanding God’s love gives hope and strength to cooperate with what God wants to do in our lives. Seeing God’s love keeps us from being dragged down by hurt and failure, events that are inevitable in our world.

A Simple Ritual

Every day the residents get out their truth statements; statements they create based on their reading of scripture. Each girl reads her own statements in private, to counter the lies that have accumulated, trap her in self-destructive patterns and block her ability to see God’s love.

So, instead of “God wasn’t there when I was hurting” she states:

“God is near the broken-hearted.”

When she’s tempted to believe, “No one cares,” she is reminded:

“Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.”

When she wants to try and earn God’s love, her heart is stilled by the words:

“It is by grace you have been saved.”

When she thinks, “I’m too bad for God’s reach” that thought is counteracted by:

“Nothing can separate us from the love of God.”

Slowly but surely, over time, these truths bring God’s Love back into view. Eventually it becomes clear that God never left … not ever … not even for one moment. His love has been there all along, in every moment of despair and destruction. I have seen how this simple and powerful truth can transform a life lived with blurred vision from the age of nine.

Now I hear her tell the other side of the story:

“Mercy Ministries was God’s rescue mission. I have never felt so loved. God in His infinite, inexhaustible mercy delivered me from death. I now know beyond a shadow of a doubt that God is good, that He never abandoned me or let go of me once. He pursued me relentlessly, because I am of great value in His eyes, because He loves me, because He wants me. I am beautiful, inside and out, because He made me. I can stop striving for perfection because I already carry the seal of His approval–His Holy Spirit–within me.

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Dear SheLoves friends,

  • What practices–daily or otherwise–have you discovered that help you on your journey to Freedom?
  • Is there a lie that keeps repeating itself in your life?
  • What are some of your favourite Truth statements?

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About Musu:

My life is lived out of the calling “to advance Christ-centred work.” I am currently Director of Marketing and Development at Mercy Ministries, working to get the word out about the life-transforming work that takes place here. Prior to my work at Mercy, I directed a Crisis Pregnancy Centre, studied Christianity and Culture at Regent College and co-led women’s programs at my local church. I have four great children and am married to Steven, a gift to me from the Creator.

On An Honest Friday: Mustard Seed

“From me, he asks for a getting up. An invitation for the thaw. A lifting of this mustard seed faith of mine.”

By Laura Parker | Twitter: @LauraParkerblog

If my spiritual life were a dashboard in a flight cockpit, I’m pretty sure the red lights screaming, Danger! Crash-and-burn-imminent! would be angrily blinking.

Because my faith has taken a beating this year; a battering.

There’s been disappointments in ministry and a confusion of jobs. There’s been several house moves and enough goodbyes said that would make a grown man cry. There’s been money struggles and kid struggles and a community that seems awfully elusive. And then, there’s been this discussion of new theology that has rocked me to my core, driving me to ask questions and seek answers.

Which I haven’t really found.

And the result is that my faith finds itself laid-out on the mat of some cosmic boxing ring.

Battered, down, and staying that way, I’m afraid.

The past months have seen a slow chill creep in to my heart, and the voice of God has become a whisper that I haven’t taken time to strain an ear for. My cynicism–my “intelligent” wanderings–have ushered in more head than soul, and down on the mat I have wallowed.

And, this, I have discovered, is not a good thing. Especially as a homeschooling mom to three small children. Especially as a wife to a man, overwhelmed. Especially as a {gulp} Christian missionary.

But, here’s the thing I am {re}learning about this God I started following 25 years ago: He doesn’t ask for mountainous faith; doesn’t demand on-fire-perfection.

Instead, he asks for mustard seeds. And five loaves. And water in jugs where the wine’s already run out.

And from me? From me, he asks for a getting up. An invitation for the thaw. A lifting of this mustard seed faith of mine.

Case in point. My husband needed to travel to Bangkok from our home in Thailand in January. He had lined up several meetings that were crucial to our work here in Asia, and he felt like it was a trip God was asking him to step out in faith for–even though we didn’t have the money to buy the plane tickets or the funds for a hotel or a traveling partner to go with him.

But, he made calls and scheduled meetings, anyway. And then, over the next few weeks, I saw the mustard seed grow:

1. His plane ticket was paid for by another family here who heard about his meetings and wanted to encourage us.

2. Another friend has a brother who redeemed hotel points to get him to stay at a four-star hotel in Bangkok. He was planning on staying in hostels, but now will be spending the weekend in one of the nicest hotels in the entire city.

3. A friend from another city in Thailand has agreed to travel with him, attend meetings and be another ear to process with.

4. He has been able to schedule meetings with some key leaders which, honestly, were a long shot at even getting to the table with.

5. My heart is in a fresh place– expectant for the trip, hopeful for the outcomes. And ready to manage the kids as a solo-parent for the next several days, sans the typical woe-is-me syndrome I typically spout when he travels.

And, this, friends, for me is God in Action, God in the Boxing Ring who ushers me again to wobbly feet. And this Friday, as we celebrate things to be grateful for here at SheLoves, my husband works and dreams and prays, from a cushy hotel in Bangkok.

And his wife, at home with the three kids, finds her heart a little less cold, her faith a little made stronger, the red indicator lights not blinking with quite such panic as before.

And maybe both are more a miracle than I usually give credit for.

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My dear SheLoves friends, I’d love to hear:

  • What mustard seed have you seen growing in your life more recently?
  • If your spiritual life were a dashboard in a cockpit, what would yours say today?
  • Any other thoughts?

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About Laura:

Laura Parker is a freelance writer and homeschooling mom who currently lives in Thailand with her family. She and her husband run a travel ministry which seeks to mentor young adults and provide a greater awareness of human trafficking. She blogs honestly about a life in Asia, squatty-potties and all, at http://www.aLifeOverseas.com . She is also the founding editor for an inspirational website for educators, InspiredTeacher.net . She tweets from @LauraParkerBlog .

On the Other Side of Abortion: When Grace Tells Another Story

“I saw words that spoke of my potential, not my mistakes.”

By Daniela Schwartz | Twitter: @dannyschwartz

 ”He forgives your sins—every one.

He heals your diseases—every one.

He redeems you from hell—saves your life!

He crowns you with love and mercy—a paradise crown.

He wraps you in goodness—beauty eternal.

He renews your youth—you’re always young in his presence.” - Psalm 103:3-5 (The Message)

I wish I could come up with a story sad enough to justify my actions. A story that would tug at your heart and somehow make what I did, seem okay. Something that would justify my actions.

That’s not going to happen.

Here’s what I’ve learned:

We can’t rewrite our past; we only have today.

My hope is that in telling this story, it could change someone else’s story. That a woman held in bondage from her past would be set free. Or maybe change the way someone thinks about another person who has made the choices I have made.

I am talking about abortion.

When I was 15 and found myself pregnant, I was scared out of my mind. I was one step away from homeless and I wondered if there was a way I could keep the baby. In my ignorance I thought that because I drank alcohol one night, I had ruined the baby anyhow. So even if I had him, he would be damaged and how would I take care of him? At that time, I couldn’t even put a roof over my own head. I got the money for the abortion and ended the pregnancy at 15 weeks.

I wish my story ended there.

When I was 17, I was having unprotected sex with my boyfriend. At this point in my life, my heart was hard. I knew what the consequences could be, and didn’t care. The people in my world had let me down and I refused to love or be loved. I got pregnant, again. This time I did not hesitate to choose abortion. I did not want to end up a single mother. I definitely did not want to be tied to my current boyfriend for the rest of my life. So I ended the pregnancy at 19 weeks. Refusing to acknowledge the life that was in me.

When I was 20 years old, I found Jesus. I was told I was a new creation, cleaned from all sin, but there were choices I had made in my life that fired a war on my soul. I felt like certain things I had done in my life were too big for God. I was covered in guilt and shame. After two years I backslid from God and walked away for seven years.

Looking back, I still see God was working in my life. The very fact that I can write this today is proof of that.

I married when I was 27 to a wonderful man, and we were expecting our first child by our first anniversary.

Any mom, when you hold your baby for the first time, knows the wonder of the miracle that has taken place. The child that grew in your body. A life full of future.

When Owen was four, I wanted him in Christian school. Why this was so important, I can’t tell you; particularly when I was only attending church at Christmas and Easter. I requested a reference letter from my church and it was completed by an Associate Pastor who has known me since the beginning of my journey. She filled out my application and when she got to the part about my involvement at church, she talked about what she saw in me and what she believed for me. In that moment, I had hope. I really wanted God and needed him in my life.

I saw words that spoke of my potential, not my mistakes.

I got involved in serving and planted myself in the house and about eight months later, I recommitted my heart to Jesus. I learned that I could go through the motions, but until I opened my heart, it was impossible to grow. In my willingness to serve and be obedient to God, however, walking through the doors that were opening, I believe it allowed God to begin a work in me. The actions of trusting God with my life allowed my heart to soften enough to put my hope in Him.

So now Israel, what do you think God expects from you? Just this: Live in his presence in holy reverence, follow the road he sets out for you, love him, serve God, your God, with everything you have in you, obey the commandments and regulations of God that I’m commanding you today—live a good life. - Deuteronomy 10:12-13 (The Message)

Ryan and I had been trying to have another child since our eldest turned two. After several failed fertility attempts, we were diagnosed with “unexplained infertility.” I began to think of my abortions. The lives I had ended and the one I was trying to begin.

Condemnation and guilt entered into my heart and I was tormented by what I had done.

I began to feel like a con-artist. The life I was living, stolen. “I should be a single struggling mother,” I thought to myself. “I should have never met Ryan, and had my beautiful Owen. I should not have this beautiful life. It was my horrible choices that brought me here and I am a living fraud.”

I believed those words and they robbed my joy.

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, (s)he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new. – 2 Corinthians 5:17 (New King James Version) (gender included)

By the grace of God, I got pregnant at 35, seven years after my first born. I had my first ultrasound at seven weeks and saw that miraculous little heartbeat. At 20 weeks, I saw the miracle of our little baby in a 3D ultrasound.

I felt that tug at my heart, for my unborn children.

Grace.

We had a guest speaker come to our church, and it’s not that I hadn’t heard amazing sermons on grace, but I felt like this message was about me and my abortions and my life that God gave me. God spoke to my heart and truth resonated in me.

The hardest part of Grace, for me, was understanding it. When we truly understand the Grace we live under when Jesus enters our lives, we are not pushed to our knees by guilt and condemnation, but instead we gratefully fall to our knees in worship to the One who paid for it all. Jesus.

I don’t deserve this life I have. None of us deserve our lives. It’s by Gods grace we have a second chance (sometimes a third and a fourth). God saw across the oceans of time and saw me at 15, 17, 27 and 35 and loved me the same. The blood of Jesus covers my sins.

It is not that my heart doesn’t ache when I think of those babies; I sit here in tears thinking of them. It will always hurt, but I don’t live under condemnation. I have a new life by the grace of God. I know some of you may not understand and maybe have the urge to hurl a few stones my way, but I would bear the scorn of a thousand to help one person learn what it took me 15 years to learn.

Here’s more of what I learned: If you are recovering from an abortion, God knows your story and is still smiling on you; your child is in heaven with Him. God still loves you and always will. Your child still loves you. Jesus’ blood covered all of your sins. He covered every, single, sin.

And then he told me,

My grace is enough; it’s all you need.

My strength comes into its own in your weakness. -2 Corinthians 7: 10

If you can stand nowhere else today, let’s stand here: God’s grace is enough. Maybe it is not an abortion that keeps you tied up. Maybe it is something else you have made bigger than Jesus. Let’s know this together: nothing is BIGGER than God. In our weakness, God makes us strong. I love that.

God looks at us and loves us, just as we are.

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About Daniela:
Daniela is loving her role as stay-at-home mom. She loves Jesus, her husband and kids and jumps feet first into opportunities to serve in her community. Daniela lives by this statement, “Preach the gospel always, use words when necessary.” She loves to live life big and laughs a lot. She blogs with her twin sister Trinity at Lime in the coconuts.

When Presents Don’t Look Like Gifts

For me? Really? You shouldn’t have!

By Ashley Mandanici | Twitter: @ashleymandanici
Illustrations by Katelyn Szekeres
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“This is a joke, right?”

I shuffled around the bottom of the box, attempting to find the “real” gift.

“What are you talking about, sweetie?” my mom responded. She said it with so much sincerity, I realized it was no joke. This was actually what she and her husband had got me for Christmas.

I could feel all the manners my mother had spent years instilling in me, slipping from me, replaced by my shock, disgust and the fact that I was a hormonal 16-year-old girl.

“What inspired this purchase? Seriously? What made you both walk into a store, look at this and think, ‘Yes, Ashley would love this’?”

Now, I know that this sounds bad, but you need to understand my confusion. For all the Christmases of my life, my Mom and extended family had been great gift givers.

Every year my Auntie would get me a pretty new Christmas dress–each year a prettier one than the last!
Then of course there was the year of the colourful, light-up microphone. That microphone was treasured and loved until it could not take anymore treasuring–or loving. From then on, I would not say or sing anything unless my voice was somehow amplified.

After all those years of Christmas gift joy, imagine my astonishment when I opened my gift that year.

Yes, that is correct. This slightly emo teenager who only wore black received this beautiful tie-dyed shirt. But it was not just tie-dyed, oh no.

“This shirt looks like it was made for a five-year-old!” I cried.

“No, no! It is supposed to look like that,” my mom attempted to explain.

“It looks like egg cartons tied to each other. Tell me why it looks like a science project?”

“Well, you see, it starts out small and then when you put it on, it stretches to fit your body perfectly. Go try it on! It will fit, and it will be cute.”

It neither fit, nor was it cute. I stood in front of my full-length mirror in tears as my belly protruded between my new shirt and my pajama pants.

At this point, not only was I mad about my dumb gift, but I also felt bad about being a jerk. I placed the shirt back into the box, thanked my mom and her husband and spent the rest of Christmas locked in my room, listening to the Backstreet Boys.

After that year, I am unsure exactly how it happened, but things just went downhill.

- There was the bedazzled-light-up-jean-jacket year.

- The cat-kettle-and-matching-lightswitch-cover year.

- And I am on my third consecutive wrinkle-cream-year.

“I want a refund.”

I saw this video–I Gave My Kids a Terrible Present–floating around the other day and it’s what got me thinking about this whole “gifts” thing. Jimmy Kimmel (one of those late night show guys) put out a challenge to parents to let their kids open one present before Christmas, but to give them a terrible present and film their responses.

[*Disclaimer: There is one child at the very end of the video that has a much- less-than-polite response to his gift. Don't watch if you get offended easily.]

Some things don’t look like gifts.

I know that Christmas is not about presents, but about the presence of our Saviour Jesus coming to this earth to give us new life. I also know that when a gift is given, it is about the heart of the one who gave it. But let’s face it, whenever anyone opens a gift (Christmas, birthday or otherwise), we hope it’s something good!

“I appreciate her getting us a present, but I didn’t know it would be like this.”

That’s a true statement beyond just the little girl’s terrible Christmas gift, isn’t it? Some things in life just don’t look like gifts.

If I were to have a sitdown with God and discuss the past couple of years, I can imagine my response being similar to that of the little girl’s in the video:

“God, I appreciate that you’ve given me these presents, but I didn’t know it would be like this.”

James 1:2-4 “Dear brothers and sisters, when troubles come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy. For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow. So let it grow, for when your endurance is fully developed, you will be perfect and complete, needing nothing.

Some of the things that happened to me over the past two years have not looked like gifts–the two primary events being losing my dad and the ending of a serious relationship which didn’t leave me high-fiving my friends about what I got that year. It left me frustrated, sad, and confused; probably the same way the kid who got the onion for Christmas felt.

Katelyn (the wonderful illustrator of all the pictures) sent me one last picture (that I hadn’t really asked for) along with the others. She kindly said, “I added one I thought you could add to the end of your article.” Unbeknownst to her, it actually wrapped up what I want to say quite beautifully.

Just as I have had to learn about accepting gifts–the good and the bad–graciously, I need to do the same with all that life gives me. As Sarah Kay articulates so beautifully in her “If I Should Have a Daughter” TED Talk, I want to:

” … walk through life with my hands open. Which means catching every misery and hurt but it also means when beautiful, amazing things just fall out of the sky, I’m ready to catch them.”

I need to learn how to embrace the troubles that come and consider them a great joy—seeing beyond the trouble to the endurance and faith these produce.

My dear SheLoves sistas, in the spirit of great Gratitude, but honesty:

  • What are some of the more “special” presents you’ve received?
  • What have you learned about receiving and giving gifts?]
  • Any other thoughts?

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About Ashley:

My name is Ashley and I am the Children’s Ministry Coordinator at Relate Church in Surrey, B.C. My mission is to develop the God-given potential in every child who crosses my path *Insert Whitney Houston’s “Greatest Love of All” here*. I love all things jazzy, particularly music, and I tend to break into song throughout the day for no apparent reason. I blog here and tweet @AshleyMandanici

About Katelyn:

Katelyn Szekeres is the writer of the blog, oddbutnice.com where she details her neurotic childhood, marriage and sometimes-evil cat, Gizmo. When she’s not doing that, she works as a Mental Health Worker, makes weird crafts, takes lots of photos and plans where she will be traveling next!

I Can’t Wait.

“We know that in the waiting He is preparing us for what He’s prepared for us.”

By Angela Doell | Twitter: @adoell

The year I was 11, I knew exactly what was in the boxes I unwrapped on Christmas Day even before the wrapping paper flew.

I knew because I’d already snuck into the living room days before and carefully pried the tape from the paper, delicately opening and examining the gifts with my name on it. My sisters and I got Swatch watches that year. It was 1986 and those Swatches were unforgettably rad. (We’d had a hunch there might be watches under the tree–the boxes were quietly ticking–and my curiousity got the best of me.) I then repackaged and placed the presents back under the tree to wait for the ceremony of Christmas Day.

Waiting has always been difficult for me.

Waiting for the kids to get out the door, for my Americano at Starbucks, for a file to render, for the workday to end, for dinner to be ready, for sleep to come …

And then there’s the waiting my heart does:

- Waiting for clarity.

- Waiting for opportunity.

- Waiting for truth to win.

- Waiting for dreams fulfilled.

This Christmas my mind has been on Mary. When I read in Luke 2:19 that she “kept all these things and pondered them in her heart,” I think I kind of get how she felt, in a small way. I imagine that, as a new mom, her heart burst with unspeakable awe and love on that holy night … And yet she must have pondered the future with uncertainty. She’d just given birth to the forever-anticipated Saviour in a seriously perilous and precarious time. While the shepherds ran around making lots of noise about Jesus’ birth, she kept her thoughts dear and deep within herself.

She waited, and she pondered. 

The promise of Christmas is rich. Our future as recipients of God’s gift is stunning. And still we wait in the shadow of eternity’s radiance, in Earth’s weary brokenness.

We hold our breath and wait.

Here’s the thing: I can’t wait for the future. My insides are full of dreams of what will be. There are hopes I can’t express and desires I couldn’t wrap words around if I tried, but in my heart, there is so much more than I see with my eyes.

And the good news is: In Him, I have all the strength I need. As do you. We wait, rely on Him, trust in Him … and know that in the waiting He is preparing us for what He’s prepared for us.

“Those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles. They shall run and not be weary. They shall walk and not faint” (Isaiah 40:31)

Merry Christmas, dear friends. This Christmas I’m celebrating what God has done here through SheLoves Magazine in the last year, and expectantly and patiently anticipating what He has in store for 2012. xo

About Angela:

Angela and her husband Rod have been married for 18 years and they have two children, Madison (15) and Miller (12). Angela works with the creative & media teams at Relate Church in Surrey, BC where she oversees art direction and communications. She loves finding beauty in everyday life and is passionate about communicating hope and the reality of a living Jesus through media and design.

ShePonders: Christmas

“He, and not the Caesars of this age, is the Light of the World, the Messiah, the Savior.”

By Kelley Johnson-Nikondeha
________________________________________

Audio: ShePonders: Christmas

Click on the link above for an audio experience of Kelley’s post.

“Jesus is the reason for the season.”

Growing up in the church and a series of other concentric Christian circles over the years, this is an oft-quoted truism during this season. Jesus is the reason for Christmas; the reason we celebrate. He is the reason we carve out this holy time on our annual calendar. Christmas is about Jesus, not about lavish consumption and consumerism.

Absolutely true.

And yet … it rings incomplete for me. Jesus is the reason for what? Is He the reason for gift-giving, cookie-baking, stocking-hanging, tree-lighting and hall-decking? Is He the reason for family gatherings; the reason we give to the poor at home and abroad? While the commemoration of His advent provokes celebration and charity, I still feel the message of Christmas is a bit muddled.

What is the Christmas story really about? What did Matthew and Luke intend as they wrote down their distinctive birth narratives we now blend together seamlessly into Christmas pageants? Why did the wise men bring gifts?  Why did the angels fill the celestial amphitheatre with song? Why did the shepherds run to see the baby?  What did the words of Elizabeth, Simeon and Anna mean to the first hearers in the ancient world? What is the rhyme and reason behind these cherished stories we read our children during the 12 days of Christmas?

Poetic Genealogies

Matthew begins with a long genealogy that travels from Abraham through David and Solomon, arriving at Jesus. The lineage demonstrates that Jesus is the new Messiah, arriving on the scene at the appropriate time. Luke’s genealogy begins with Jesus tracing His line back through Nathan, David, Boaz and finally to Adam in the garden. We learn from Luke that Jesus is the new Adam. In the poetry of genealogy we learn that Jesus is Messiah, that He is our new beginning. But we discover something else as well. In the ancient world, genealogies were spun to showcase the lineage of Caesar, to make manifest that he is the Son of God descended from Heaven. Both Matthew and Luke use the rhetoric of the day to say something different–there is a new ruler and here are His credentials. These were both counter-genealogies announcing the bone fides of Jesus. He is the true Messiah, He is the true beginning of a new era … not Caesar.

Divine Conception

Next, both Matthew and Luke tell the story of the divine conception of Jesus. The Angel Gabriel had several conversations with Joseph, according to Matthew, about the nature of his wife’s pregnancy.  As Luke tells it, Gabriel spoke to Mary directly about the goodness she was gestating within.  We are told that she received these words with an open heart and, I imagine, an awareness that her life had just been set on an irreversible trajectory.

While these stories of God-breathed conception sound novel to our ears, we must re-frame our understanding. Such tales were commonplace in the days of the ancient Mediterranean. You would hear stories like this all the time–about the birth of Caesar. Everyone knew He descended from the gods and was genetically inclined to rule the empire. Now we are told there is Another on the scene … another divine Son with the capacity and mandate to reign. We learn that the birth stories have less to do with the biology of the mother and more to do with the destiny of the child–destined to rule.  Matthew and Luke tell us that Caesar has a challenger for the throne.  Jesus, the true child of God, is destined to rule the Kingdom.

Heavy Titles

Scattered within these birth narratives are many heavy titles. ”King of the Jews” was a title ascribed to Herod the Great, but applied to Jesus. ”Son of God,” “Lord,” “Savior of the world”–all used to speak exclusively of Caesar, the one who descends from the gods and saves the world. He brings the Pax Romana through victory, employing violence to suppress rivals. Included in his peace is an economic policy that rewards the elites and exploits the poor, but keeps the roads open and commerce flowing. When Matthew and Luke call Jesus the Son of God, Messiah, Savior, Lord … they are dancing on the edge of treason. But they are naming a new reality–the light of the world has come, and it is not the emperor seated in Rome, but the babe in the stable. The gospel writers are, in effect, advertizing a better Son of God. Jesus will bring peace through justice and His peace will come through non-violent means. His Kingdom will bring about prosperity for all–even those at the margins and on the underbelly of the economy–and it will have no end.

Once we read these poetic genealogies, divine conception stories loaded with heavy titles we should all be chanting:

Jesus, not Caesar! Jesus, not Caesar! Jesus, not Caesar!

What the stories of Christmas say, then and now, is that peace cannot come through Caesar. The gospel writers wanted us all to see that there is another way to govern the world–peace through justice, not violence. There is another way to administer the Kingdom–through justice, love and goodness. We have been entrusted with very subversive stories that invite us to see differently, believe differently and act differently. The way the world operates now is not the only way it can ever be. Jesus comes as a new kind of President, a different kind of Prime Minister, a better General Secretary of the United Nations and more skilled Managing Director of the International Monetary Fund … with another Way to bring about a lasting peace and an equitable economy for all.

Jesus is the reason for the season … a reason that upends the status quo of the world as we know it. He is the beginning of deep transformation the world over and the savior for all who suffer under current empires and economies. He offers another way forward, a rationale that confronts all we have come to know and believe about the way the world works.

- Jesus is the reason to rethink the status quo of our empires and economies.

- Jesus is the reason to imagine peace and prosperity without war.

- Jesus is the reason to live differently in this season and every other season–

Because He, and not the Caesars of this age, is the Light of the World, the Messiah, the Savior. This is why we sing: Glory to God in the Highest!

___________________________________

About Kelley:

Kelley Johnson Nikondeha is co-director of Amahoro Africa and international staff member of Community of Faith with her husband Claude. She’s a thinker, connector, advocate, avid reader and mother of two beautiful children. Kelley lives between Arizona and Burundi. She loves handwritten letters, homemade pesto and anything written by Walter Brueggemann.

Image credit: Merry Christmas, by The Meadowbrook blog

Seeking Eve Monday: When Being is Enough

“Being with others is Gloria’s pastime and, I would argue, her calling.”

By Christina Crook
She said, “What I do is the least interesting thing about me.”

I thought, I wish we’d all have guts like that.

There Gloria Iu and I sat talking over sushi in the foyer of CBC Toronto asking each other the question that’s been nagging me for years.

Why is the first question we always ask each other: WHAT DO YOU DO?

Why are we …

DOERS. DOING. DO. DO. DO.

Why is the compulsion to accomplish so central to our culture? So core to our being? So tied to our identity? What about BEING? What about asking people what they LOVE? What they CARE about? What about asking people about their PASSION?

You could say that in a world of out-doing one another, Gloria is a professional BE-ER.

I visited her downtown Toronto apartment, dubbed “the kibbutz,” a few weeks ago for a knit/make stuff get together. There sat seven trendy Toronto chicks knitting and purling, and at the head of the coffee table sat Gloria, holding court.

“I like to hang out with people,” she explains. “I host a knitting club, but I don’t knit. I go to book club, but I don’t read the books.” Being with others is Gloria’s pastime and, I would argue, her calling.

By day, Gloria inputs data. She likes it because of the people, the fact that she can listen to things that interest her and that it gives her space to create outside of work. By night, Gloria is a court jester and full-time friend. She also loves architecture, rearranging furniture, and her collection of ten ergonomically sublime kitchen chairs. Her design aesthetic is: “Asian, Zen, Fun!”

Art-trained at the Ontario School of Art & Design, Iu finished her studies at British Columbia’s Trinity Western University.

“It was never my goal to be an artist,” she says. “I was floundering in art college and one day I passed by a homeless person and thought: ‘There’s more than this.’” She dropped out and headed West to study psychology, because someone told her she shouldn’t enter university undeclared.

After school she worked at a job finding centre in Toronto and, while she was good at it, was finding it stressful. Her dad suggested a job and she thought: “For once I am going to be the obedient daughter” and she applied.

On the brink of the financial crisis and with one dollar in her bank account, Gloria landed the job, promising God her first paycheck. Her prayer at the time was this:

“God, I am a bit of a gong show–I need some help.”

It was the only job she applied for, and after many lay-offs and a two-year hiring freeze, she has maintained her position. It was during that time that she listened to a series on faith and work at her church, Grace Toronto.

Work Ethic

“Those faith and work sermons by Dan (MacDonald) changed my life. They gave me a sense of gratitude. I realized God gave me this job and I should be grateful for it and work hard.”

“Dan said: “THE GRASS IS GREEN ENOUGH.”

Whoever we are. Whatever we do. Wherever we work. However we play.

THE GRASS IS GREEN ENOUGH.

Gloria’s perspective on work is inspiring. Data entry isn’t her dream job, but she cares about the people there.

Volunteer

In her spare time, Gloria volunteers with the Toronto City Mission, hanging out (of course!) with senior high immigrant teens. “It’s hard to engage these kids,” she shares during her lunch hour. “Beyond the trust issue, it’s the technology–they’re all on smartphones, regardless of their socio-economic situation.”

Some people would rather stand in the soup kitchen with a ladle. Sitting alongside strangers is hard, but it’s Gloria’s first choice.

When I first met Gloria she said that what she does is the least interesting thing about her. I would beg to disagree. In a world of compulsive doers, she is a breath of fresh air, and in this–the busiest season of the year–there is no greater reminder than to BE.

__________________________

Christmas is less than one week away.

Everywhere we see picture and icons of Jesus–God of the Universe–simply being. Lying, helpless in a manger.

There is only one way we can find ourselves face-to-face with the Christ child.

By BEING. Still.

Turning off the jingles, dimming down the lights, looking fast and hard into the story of the One who came close. The One who invaded human history to hang out with sinners, to remind us to be grateful, to throw open wide our arms and confess to the ears of an infant:

“Dear God, I am a bit of a gong show–I need some help.”

__________________________________

About Christina:

“Like you, my faith is strengthened by the confession of others. The breath of release that comes when honesty flows and you exhale with the truth that I am not alone.”

Christina recently traded the seaside views of Bowen Island, BC for the banks of Toronto’s Humber River where she, her husband and two young children attend Grace Toronto Church. Her writing has recently appeared in UPPERCASE, Geez and the Literary Review of Canada. She is the founder of SeekingEve.ca and blogs at www.christinacrook.com.

Photo credit: Gloria Iu, by  Stephanie Hung

My Christmas Miracle: On Friendship, Faith and Fertility

By Daniela Schwartz | Twitter: @dannyschwartz

Every Christmas I believe for a miracle. Sometimes it’s silly like the year we got an espresso machine. The miracle was the guy working at Starbucks offering me his staff discount, because we could not have afforded it otherwise. It has brought years of joy.

Another year it was a Wii when they were a hot item. Two years ago Disneyland. (That was truly magical). I try to create memories for my family–each Christmas a special memory, so that as time passes, it will not be forgotten.

Last year’s miracle changed my family forever. We welcomed Oliver. The biggest Christmas miracle ever.

My story:

A women’s cycle is on average 28 day. Here’s my CliffsNotes version:

Day One: Your period.

Day 7-14: Sanity Days. No PMS, cramping, bloating or irrational demands.

Day 14: Ovulation

Day 15 – 28: Varying degrees of craziness, moodiness, overheating, overeating and slow gradual transformation to your fat clothes. A.k.a. comfy pants and your husband’s old T-shirt with the grease stain from last month’s chips ‘n dip.

This is the natural course of a woman. OK, I am speaking for myself. Then there comes a time, where you decide to do something productive with these cycles, liiiike … for example, make a baby. When Ryan and I were first married we decided to try for Owen and two weeks later, the bun was in the oven.

Two years after Owen, we decided to add one more child to the mix. I decided I would get pregnant in August, so the baby could be born in the spring, I’d then have time to de-fat for summer and BAM I’d be lounging on the beach, my babe napping beside me–Ryan and Owen chasing each other around in the distance.

August passed. Negative. Oh, well, late spring is good too. Negative. Summer? Negative. Fall? Winter? Negative.

Two years passed.

Here ‘s what the cycle of a women with infertility looks like:

Day 25: Obsessing over every twinge your body makes. Am I nauseous? I feel sick, yes I am going to throw up! Oh joy, could this be it? My boobs? Definitely sore. And tired? Yes, exhausted. Thank God for those early response tests. Negative. OK, it’s too early.

Day 26: Negative. Still too early. Definitely feeling something, though.

Day 26 evening: Negative. Darn it. I should have waited til the morning; that’s when there’s the most hormones.

Day 27: Racing back to the house with pregnancy test still holding first morning urine. Negative. It’s OK. Tomorrow it will show up.

Day 28: I’m holding the pregnancy test up to the light. Maybe the line is so faint I can’t see it? (I did that a lot.)

Day 1: Oh.

Day 15: Cleansing breath. Maybe …

I was so glad the day I found pregnancy tests could be purchased in bulk online, since store-bought ones were costing a fortune. I literally ordered a hundred at a time. I think I felt that if I took enough tests, I could somehow stop my period from coming.

At year three we sought help at a fertility clinic. Tests, tests and more tests. Only to discover that Ryan and I had unexplained infertility. Factoring our age and the time we had gone without conceiving without medical intervention, our chances were five percent. Awesome. We began to discuss treatments and decided to try IUI’s and drugs. Night sweats, hormone-induced rages, awkward fertility treatment with a nurse (shouldn’t Ryan be here?) produced a Negative.

My twin sister became pregnant. My best friend became pregnant. I went for another IUI. Negative.

There was I moment with I was standing with my sister and friend in my kitchen one day, trying not to stare at their swollen bellies and I felt my uterus physically RECOIL. It took my breath away and I wanted to lay down and go to sleep forever.

Let’s pause here for a moment. Please don’t think that for one moment I wasn’t grateful for my Owen. I treasure that boy. This was something I was dealing with on the sidelines of being his mom.

We stopped our fertility treatments. We went back once to explore in vitro,  but because we had Owen already,  we decided we would use the money to adopt eventually. At that visit we discovered that due to time and increasing age, our chances were now 1.7 percent.

It had been 3.5 years. Every time I sat in church, I cried. Every time someone near to me conceived, I’d smile, shut down my heart so I could get through the next five minutes without screaming, WHY???? WHY???? And then say, I’m so happy for you. (If you are one those friends, I’m sorry.)

What changed?

We had been back to church for about a year, mostly to have Owen there. I had a wall around me, because I felt so fragile and broken in my disappointment and hurt. One month, my very close girlfriend told me she was expecting. For some reason I got it in my head, This is it. This is God’s timing for me. We were meant to have babies together and to boot, it’s Christmas! God knows how much I love Christmas. It is His perfect timing. I had been praying for this. I was smug in my confidence of knowing God’s will for my life.

Day 1: I felt the color leave my face. Ryan must have taken Owen to school that day. I was home by myself getting ready for work  and listening to music. Numb. “A Bridge Over Trouble Water” came on. It was being sung by a Christian singer. These words stopped me:

“Your time has come to shine

All your dreams are on their way.”

God speaks to us in so many different ways. In that moment I knew God knew my heart. There were a lot of tears that day. I gave my burden to Him (although for the next year and half, I tried to take it back a few times.)

I turned my heart back to God that day.  I took my eyes off what I didn’t have and put them on Him.

I went on birth control eventually to help my hormones. They were a mess from the fertility treatments and it felt good to close the door, to know that I did not have to have Day 1 that month. When a close friend (let’s call her Linda) approached me one day and asked if I would go off the pill and try again, I looked at her like she was insane. If she knew what she was asking me, she would not be asking me this. I was doing well, and I did not want to reopen that door.  She committed to praying for me for three months. I loved and trusted her, so I committed to having unprotected whoopy with my husband for three months.

Negative.

Negative.

Negative.

I did not hop back on the pill once the three months had passed. Partly cause I did not get to my doctor’s; partly because I knew Linda was still believing. At month four my hormones were raging and I told her I was done. I was turning into a hormonal lunatic. She was disappointed, but understood.

Day 29. No Day 1? Weird. I went to Walmart and bought the cheapest test possible. Peed on it and walked straight to the trash to chuck it. Hold the phone. What’s that? I took a picture and sent it to my friend.

“Is that two lines?”

I called Ryan and he said: “Why did you buy the cheapest test?” (To date, Ryan has NO idea just how many tests I took over the years and how much it cost.)

Please don’t be an illusion, I prayed. Please don’t let this be a mental break down. I drove straight from Walmart to my girlfriend’s. I needed an extra set of eyes. I went straight to her toilet. Instantly there were two bright pink lines. I flew out of the bathroom: *JOY*  “It’s positive! It’s positive!!!” My friend, her friend who I had never met and I started jumping up and down, hugging and shouting like lunatics.

I called my husband. Speechless.

Then I called Linda.

Me: “You don’t have to pray for me to get pregnant anymore.”

Linda: “Why?”

Me (giant lump in my throat):  “’Cause I’m pregnant.”

Linda cried for two days.

December 18th, 2010.

I’m in labour, and Oh-Martha-Something-Stewart it hurts. We are driving to the hospital and it starts to snow. In between the waves of contractions I know this is a gift from God. He knows how much I love the snow. This is God’s perfect timing. I soak in the sereneness of the star-kissed night, soft white flakes covering the earth in a blanket of white brilliance.

_______________________

One week before Christmas we welcomed Oliver. When I saw him, he took my breath away. When I saw his big brother holding him, it stopped my heart.

“Your time has come to shine

All your dreams are on their way.”

When God told me He knew my dreams, He did not answer MY dreams right away. He worked in my life, fixing things that needed fixing; healing where healing was needed. When I gave Him back my life, God transformed it and then He topped it off with Oliver.

He never forgot.

Linda and Oliver just recently.

For those of you who have a friend walking through infertility, here are four things never to say to her. EVER:

  1. Stop trying so hard.
  2. Stop thinking about it so much.
  3. When you stop trying, it will happen. It happened to my friend.
  4. If you decide to adopt, you’ll get pregnant. That happened to so and so.

[Insert applause from infertile women.)

Here's what you can say to her:

I am sorry you are here. It sucks. Big time.  You are doing everything right. Have faith and if you don’t right now, I have enough for you.

[Insert tears and hugs.]

“God answers in three ways: He says yes and gives you what you want, He says no and gives you something better and He says wait and gives you the best.”

____________________________

My dear SheLoves sisters, I’d love to hear your thoughts:

  • Do you have a Christmas miracle?
  • How has God met you in a special way at Christmas?
  • Do you have an experience with infertility?
  • Or a friend who has believed for you when you stopped having faith?

____________________________

About Daniela:
Daniela is stepping into the role of stay-at-home mom. She loves Jesus, her husband and kids and jumps feet first into opportunities to serve in her community. Daniela lives by this statement, “Preach the gospel always, use words when necessary.” She loves to live life big and laughs a lot. She blogs with her twin sister Trinity at Lime in the coconuts.

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