I didn't want to go to church yesterday. I was tired from a busy weekend, and I just wanted to relax. Maybe you've felt that way at times. Your "To Do" list is longer than a CVS receipt. Your baby woke you up multiple times in the night. You're not feeling 100 percent. Most of your clothes are in the dirty laundry basket, and the rest are wrinkled.

And yet. I felt the Still Small Voice telling me to go. And I knew from previous experience to listen and obey.

It was the first Sunday of Advent, the day when we light the candle of Hope.

Sometimes hope is hard-fought for, especially if you've experienced profound disappointment. It's hard to  hope again, isn't it? We look forward to a day of healing and wholeness, when Love incarnate will reign. But during the in-between time, we grasp at hope, watch it slip through our fingers, and try desperately to hold on.

I've experienced deep, bottomless disappointment. Grief over dreams not realized. Maybe you have, too. Hoping again means making yourself vulnerable, letting down your guard, knocking down the wall that surrounds and protects your heart. There's a chance your hope won't be realized this side of heaven. That's the reality.

But in that church service yesterday, when the first candle of Advent was lit, I felt the seeds of hope within my weary heart. 

Hope shines brightest in the darkest night of the soul.

An infant in the row behind me was squealing in distress until she found comfort at her mother's breast.  I imagine she sucked greedily, without fear, filling her empty stomach and calming her cries.

Hope.

When the pastor prayed his "pastoral prayer,"  he prayed for a physician in the church who specializes in mental health care, and he prayed for all of us who suffer from mental illness. No stigma, no condemnation, just love and comfort.

Hope.

Our Bible reading was from Matthew Chapter 1, the genealogy of Jesus. Listed among the line of Jesus are cheaters, liars, murderers, prostitutes, the poor, the destitute, the long-forgotten. "The Bible is honest enough to show us the failures of Christ's genealogy," the pastor said.

And there are women. Women weren't normally listed in genealogies. They weren't highly regarded.

But in the family of God, nobody is excluded. 

That gives me hope.

At the end of the service, my friends Heather and Rick were serving communion. When Heather gave me the bread, she said, "Luann, this is Christ's body, sacrificed for you."  I've taken communion hundreds of times, but something about hearing her say my name was startling and refreshing. And I believed what she said.

Hope.

I returned to my seat, and just as I had taken the bread, my 8-year-old slid into the seat next to me. He had been downstairs at children's church, but he told the teacher he wanted to leave early so he could take communion. Disappointed clouded his face when he realized we'd already gone forward to receive the bread and cup...but I had my cup, still full. I looked into his sweet face and let him drink from my cup. He drank greedily, shaking the little cup until he got every last drop. 

Hope.

Today my dear friend starts treatment for liver cancer. I have been fearful of cancer for as long as I can remember. But when I talk to this friend, I see and hear in his voice the graciousness of God. He was scared at first--terrified, but God has ministered to his heart in a way that I can't describe. He speaks of the goodness of God, the presence of God, the comfort of God, and I have hope. For him, as he fights this terrible disease, and for me, as I lay my fears at the altar.

Hope shines brightest in the darkest of nights. Our hope is Emmanuel--God with us. He shall disperse the gloomy clouds of night, and death's dark shadows put to flight. He will come to us and cheer our spirits, comfort our fears, and give us hope in His unfailing love and goodness.

Rejoice. Hope has come.

Why I Got Angry Today

This is a re-post from September of last year. Still relevant, especially today.


Today, Ken and I attended a CPR and First Aid training class. The presenter was a firefighter/EMT from our community. And I liked her. She was funny. Really funny. Did I mention likeable? She made the training enjoyable...even at 8 am on a Saturday morning.

However, part way through the training, something was said that really upset me.The trainer was talking about CPR and the new recommendations for compressions and mouth-to-mouth. She said something to the effect of, "As a non-medical professional, you are considered a Good Samaritan, and you aren't legally bound to give mouth to mouth. And if I were you, I wouldn't. Why? Because people are gross. And you never know what gross diseases people have. They might have hepatitis, TB, or AIDS. And although the experts say you can't get AIDS from saliva, I don't believe it."

Whoa. Stop right there, lady.

I have several dear friends who are HIV-positive, and this stigma has got to stop. It's a lie. It's a fear-based lie. I was shocked and disappointed that this medical "authority" would disseminate false information. I was so stunned at the time that I didn't speak up. I wish I had. But now I will...for my friends with HIV, for children with HIV, for anyone touched by HIV. I have to speak up...as a Christian, as a promoter of the truth, as a human being.

First of all, people with Hepatitis, TB, and AIDS are not gross. Some of the symptoms of their disease may be gross, but they are not. They are human beings, dearly loved by God and created in His image.

Second, this woman appeared to have misspoke when she used the term AIDS. I believe she meant HIV. HIV is not AIDS. HIV is a virus, that if left untreated, can cause AIDS. Because of advancements in treatment and testing, it is uncommon for a person with HIV in the United States to progress to having AIDS. In fact, people who are being treated with antiretroviral drugs usually have an undetectable viral load, meaning the virus can not be detected in their blood. Therefore, transmission is very unlikely under any circumstances, and most of them live out normal life spans with minimal health issues. With regular treatment, they can marry, have babies, and do just about anything an HIV-negative person can do.

How is HIV transmitted? A person can contract HIV through mutual blood or semen contact. This most often occurs during unprotected sex or by sharing needles during injection drug use. There are also cases where a mother passes the virus on to her newborn or transmits the virus via breastfeeding. These instances usually occur with people who are not receiving ongoing antiretroviral medications.

If you aren't having sex with an HIV+ person, sharing needles, or being breastfed by a person with HIV, the risk of becoming infected is virtually non-existent.  

 

Can HIV be transmitted by saliva? No. In some persons living with HIV, the virus has been detected in saliva, but in extremely low quantities. Contact with saliva alone has never been shown to result in transmission of HIV, and there is no documented case of transmission from an HIV-infected person spitting on another person. 

Can a person get HIV from casual contact with an infected person?
No. HIV is not transmitted by day-to-day contact in the workplace, schools, church, or social settings. HIV is not transmitted through shaking hands, hugging, or a casual kiss. You cannot become infected from a toilet seat, a drinking fountain, a door knob, dishes, drinking glasses, food, or pets. HIV is not an airborne or food-borne virus, and it does not live long outside the body.

Let me repeat: HIV does not survive well outside the human body. You cannot catch HIV through saliva. You cannot catch HIV by touching HIV+ blood unless you have a gaping wound or open sore and it enters your blood stream. If you do have open wounds, you should be using gloves when dealing with anyone's blood.

Friends, PLEASE end the stigma. If the Church is not proclaiming the truth, showing love, and giving compassion to those affected by HIV, who will?

I got this information from the CDC.gov, TheStigmaProject.org, and TheBody.com. Some of it I copied and pasted; some I paraphrased. For more information, visit any of their sites or gather your own research from reputable sources.

Doubting in the Dark

When we tell people we're adopting a sibling group of three, we get a few different responses.

"That's awesome! So excited for you! How can we help?" (Our favorite response, of course.)

"Wow." Followed by an awkward silence. (Yah, that's awkward.)

"Oh my. Do you think you're ready for this?" (As a matter of fact, no we are not. I mean, who is ever prepared for parenthood?"

"How many bedrooms does your house have?" (Still has three, last I checked.) "Well, where will you put all those kids?" (Gee, I don't know. In a dresser drawer? Or maybe, (gasp), they could share bedrooms?)

And my favorite, and by favorite I mean not my favorite, "You're so brave!" Implications include: What if these adopted kids turn into drug-crazed serial killers? What if your husband loses his job and you have FOUR children to support? Etc. Etc.

I admit I read into things a lot, and my own fears, doubts and insecurities play a major role in how I interpret things.

So here's the truth: I'm not brave. Ken's not brave (although braver than me). We're just doing what we think God wants us to do. He has opened so many doors and made it so obvious that we are to walk down this path ... that to not walk down this path would be outright sin. For us.

Some days I feel downright scared. You see, when we started this process, our finanical situation was a bit different. And now instead of the cost of adopting one child, we have the cost of adopting three.

But this is life. We all have unexpected things happen that alter the landscape.
And we have willingly chosen to do this.

My point is that sometimes we look like we're taking a big leap of faith--like adopting a child from Ethiopia--when in fact it's not faith at all. When we started this process, we had the desire to adopt; it wasn't like God was asking us to do something we felt averse to. We had the support of friends and family. And we had almost all the funds we needed, so there was little faith involved. It seemed right, doable.

And God laughed.

Apparently He wanted to stretch us. He wanted us to see that this was His doing, not ours.

He has blessed us in so many unexpected ways. Our garage sale last month generated more than a thousand dollars. Then our church's Vacation Bible School kids raised money for us as their special project. They raised more than $1,100!  And my sisters organized an adoption shower, and tons of friends gave us gift cards to help us feather our expanding nest. And did I mention that I totally furnished our girls' bedroom for $66? Adorable matching dressers, a nightstand, twin beds, and two mattresses. $66! That's God right there.

It's humbling to be given so much. You guys, it is humbling to be given so much. 

We prayed that our community (church, friends, family) would be involved in this adoption. We know that it takes a village to raise a kid, and a church to raise a Christian. And that prayer has been answered.

But it's still scary. Because now we are operating on faith. We don't know how we will manage going from a family of three to a family of six. We don't know what it will take to transition three children into a new family in a new country with a new language and new food.

But we know that God is able. And He is good. And He loves D, M, and L way more than we do.

These children have spent a long time in an orphanage. Too long. But we believe God will redeem those years. In the Bible God promises that He will repay for the years "the locusts have stolen." And we hang on to this promise for our kids. All of them. We want, more than anything, to bear witness to their redemption story. We want to see the goodness of God gloriously displayed in their lives. We want to be a part of their next chapter--and all the subsequent chapters of their lives.

So if you think we're brave, think again. Crazy might be closer to reality.

One of my favorite quotes says, "Don't doubt in the dark what God has shown you in the light." So that's what we're doing. Or rather what we're not doing.

Some days feel dark and confusing and scary. Other days feel light and hopeful and exciting. But every day is good, because God is good.

The Lord says, “I will give you back what you lost
    to the swarming locusts, the hopping locusts,
the stripping locusts, and the cutting locusts....
    Once again you will have all the food you want,
    and you will praise the Lord your God,
who does these miracles for you.
    Never again will my people be disgraced.

Then you will know that I am among my people...
    that I am the Lord your God, and there is no other.   Joel 2:25-27