An Eye for an Eye

There is sad news today out of Wichita.  Dr. George Tiller was shot and killed at his church this morning while attending services.  I’m sickened.

Don’t know Dr. Tiller?  Read on from CNN.com:

“Tiller was one of the few U.S. physicians who still performed late-term abortions. In 1993, he was shot and wounded through both arms outside his Wichita clinic. Shelley Shannon, an ardent foe of abortion, was convicted of attempted murder in the shooting and is currently serving a 20-year sentence in federal prison.”

“”He was continually harassed by abortion opponents for much of his career — his clinic was burned down, he was shot by a health center protester, and he was recently targeted for investigation only to be acquitted by a jury just a few months ago,” Planned Parenthood Federation President Cecile Richards said in a written statement.”

“In March, Tiller was acquitted of 19 counts of performing procedures unlawfully at his clinic. In 2008, a probe initiated by abortion opponents who petitioned state authorities to convene a grand jury ended without charges.”

I qualify myself as pro-life.  My own life experiences have shown me the value of human life to such a degree that I cannot and will not    support abortion for any reason.  But to kill the abortionist?  I don’t understand that.

So many pro-life advocates will claim that the bible says “An eye for an eye”.  Yup.  It does.  In the old testament.  Under the old law.  As a Christian, I believe that when Jesus died on the cross the veil was torn, the old law was torn with it and the new covenant was firmly in place.

I’m sorry for the loss of this man.  He, too, was made in God’s image and as such, is and was worthy of the love of Christ from all who count themselves among believers.  I don’t know where he will spend eternity.  God have mercy.

Something that came to me today

2 Peter 1:3

“His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness.”

You give us life to live abundantly,
You give us strength to fight the enemy.
You give us grace to love immeasurably,
You give us hope of life eternally.

It is only through You,
Who called us to You
By Your glory and goodness.
It is only though You
That old life is made new,
and all the hopes of man can be fulfilled.

You give us peace to trust completely,
You give us joy to see things clearly.
You give us faith to follow you wholly,
You give us eyes to see your mercy.

It is only through You
Who called us to You
By Your glory and goodness.
It is only though You
That old life is made new,
and all the hopes of man can be fulfilled.

Where is Middle Ground?

I’ve been noticing a trend with our new president.  He likes the term ‘middle ground’ and he likes the concept of it.  Apparently for everything.

He would like to find middle ground as it relates to abortion.  At his recent Notre Dame commencement speech:

“…I do not suggest that the debate surrounding abortion can or should go away. Because no matter how much we may want to fudge it — indeed, while we know that the views of most Americans on the subject are complex and even contradictory — … But surely we can do so without reducing those with differing views to caricature.”

He would like to find middle ground as it relates to Guantanamo prisoners.  In a Wall Street Journal report:

“…to whom Mr. Obama offered assurances that he is searching for a sensible middle ground that will keep terror suspects out of circulation while also honoring American values.”

And again, back in January, he was hunting for middle ground as it related to the country’s economic crisis:

In a Wall Street Journal opinion blog headline:  “Obama Seeks Middle Ground With Republicans on Economic Package”

Now, I’m not a politician, and I don’t claim to be one of those arm chair political analysts.  But I’m thinking we need some more pointed, level headed, clearly planned and thought out leadership.  I want a leader with a clear moral compass…

In the mean time, I just wish the leader that we had would just make a decision already on some of these issues.  Maybe it’s too much to ask, but pleasing everyone all the time is just not possible.  I don’t know what the answers are to the many questions he faces, but I can pray that some how he will become the decisive president we need and not continue to be the wishy-washy on the moral issues that are tearing us apart.

Ok.  Off my soap box.

Journey to Family part 8

So a few moments later I snatched an opportunity and asked her, “You know what that means?”  She looked up at me again and asked “what?” and then went back to playing Cats in the Cradle.  I said, “It means forever” with a big smile on my face.  She abruptly looked up at me and with a very surprised look on her face she said “No, Mom.  Remember you said my mom and dad can’t take care of me for now.”

I took her hands in mine, and said, “Sweety, your birth mom and birth dad can’t take care of you, now or ever.  They don’t know how.  They love you very much, but they just don’t know how to take care of a little girl.  They agreed that the best thing was for you to come and be our daughter, forever.”  Her big blue eyes started to fill with tears, just a little.  “Will I ever get to see them at least?”  I wanted so much in that moment for her to reject them, but at the same time, I knew that was an impossibility.  “Of course you will!  We have agreed that you will get to see them sometimes and even talk to them on the phone.”  She looked bravely at me and asked, “Can I have a sleepover with them?”  My stomach turned at the thought of it.  “No, that you can’t do.”  “How come?” she wanted to know.  I explained to her that they didn’t live in a place that would be appropriate for her to have a sleepover.  Those were words she understood.  I didn’t need to elaborate, it was as if she knew exactly what I meant.  How could she not?  She’d lived with them before, she knew the turmoil and the inability…now that she had had an experience of a normal home and family it was clear to her what was wrong with the past.

October 10, 2008 is a day I won’t ever forget.  I imagine it’s the same as when a mother gives birth; you just don’t forget the details of such an important day.  We rented a mini van so that 6 of us could travel together to the court house for the event.  We rode together with Mary’s maternal grandmother who had traveled from Florida, and my in-laws, (who had been surrogate grandparents all along.)  We were to meet our priest and his wife at the courthouse as well.

As we entered the court house, Mary started to show some signs of nervousness.  I’m sure she had no idea what to expect, and neither did we.  Court houses are scary places when you’re little.  There are lots of people milling around, and a few explatives here and there as well.  As you look around a courthouse, you can see all kinds of emotion from fear, to anger, sadness, and  joy.  We soon met up with our priest and his wife, made the necessary introductions and started the waiting process.  Eventually we were joined by our attorney and the adoption case worker. (Ironically, this would be her last case as she was set to retire in just 2 weeks time!)

Finally the time came to enter into the courtroom.  We were directed where to sit, while our friends and family were ushered to appropriate seats.  The court officer approached and sat across from Mary, leaned back in his chair and turned to one direction, and placed one arm on the table.

“Hi” he said in a comforting tone.  “What’s your name?”  Mary looked at me shyly and I nodded for her to answer.  “Mary” she said, quite sheepishly.  “Do you know what’s going to happen here today?” he asked.  “I’m going to be adopted?” she replied, unsure if this was the right response.  “That’s right!” he said.  “I have a few questions for you.  Are you ready?”  She shook her head in response.  He proceeded to ask her full name, what school she attended, who her teacher was, what town she lived in, what her favorite color is.  She answered each one confidently.  The he told her that in a few minutes the judge would be coming into the room and was going to ask her a few questions.  “Do you know what she will ask you?” he inquired.  “No” said Mary.  “What’s your name?”  Mary looked at me, grinned, and turned back to him, “Mary.”  He continued, “What school do you go to?”  She responded with a giggle.  “Who is your teacher?”  Mary continued to answer the questions with a huge smile on her face, indicating that she figured out what he was doing.  He ended by telling her she was going to do just fine, and that she had nothing to worry about.

Shortly after he left, he entered the room again and the formal court process was started.  The judge entered and came over to the table where we were sitting and assumed the chair that the officer had used.  The judge greeted Mary with a handshake, and proceeded with her few questions.  She asked Mary her name, her age and where she lived.  She asked if Mary liked her school.  Then she gently explained to Mary that today was the day that her adoption would be finalized.  She took out of her folder a very colorful document that read, “Certificate of Adoption   To:  Mary [her middle and our last name] of [our town and state] In accordance with G.L c 210 and s6A, I certify that [our names] of [our town and state] were adopted by you on October 10, 2008 by decree of this court, and the parents’ name following the adoption will be MOM and DAD.  Signed this 10th day of October, 2008 “  There was a line for Mary to sign, and a line for the judge to sign. Mary got to use a special light up pen for the occasion that was later presented to her by the judge.

The rest of the business was taken care of in short order, with a document for my husband and I to sign.  Mary was then presented with a teddy bear, and a lollipop to finish it off!  We took several pictures with the judge behind the bench, and headed out for a brunch.  We were now offically a family.  It was done.

Contemplative Offering

Offering:  An act of offering; That which has been offered; a sacrifice

I’ve been noticing that the time for offering at our church is sometimes seeming a bit chaotic.  It’s not supposed to be, but somehow, this time of sacrifice has become a little social.  Not that social is bad, but I’m wondering, shouldn’t this be a time of contemplation?

In the old testament, the types of sacrifices that God required of His people are spelled out;  Not only what the offering was to be, but how it was to be prepared, or how it was to be offered.  There were all kinds of offerings from those to reconcile with God over sin, to those of praise and worship of Him.  But those offerings were not what God wanted.  He doesn’t want the bull or the lamb.  Those days of sacrifice ended with the perfect sacrifice of His son, Jesus, on the cross.  Once for all.  So then, what is offering today?

The act of tithe is one of obedience to God.  It is a moment in time when each of us can pray or meditate on how the offering we bring each week can be best used to further the Kingdom of God here on earth.  Now, I’m not trying to get into a deliberation of whether one should tithe or not…that’s not what this is about.  It’s about HOW you bring your offering to God each week.  Do you simply toss it in the basket and forget it?  Do you pray about how it will be used?  Do you prayerfully thank God for the blessings He’s given you that allow you to put anything in that basket?

Luke 21:¹As he looked up, Jesus saw the rich putting their gifts into the temple treasury. ²He also saw a poor widow put in two very small copper coins. ³“I tell you the truth,” he said, “this poor widow has put in more than all the others. ⁴All these people gave their gifts out of their wealth; but she out of her poverty put in all she had to live on.”

I don’t think she did this without thought, or without reverence to the act of offering.  I don’t think I will do it without thought or reverence to the offering either.

Bottle of Wine

There is a bottle of wine in my fridge.  It doesn’t quite fit, and frankly, I don’t want it there.  It annoys me.  Honestly, I hate it.  I despise it.  I resent it.

Yeah, I know, I’m talking about a bottle of wine. But it’s what it represents to me.  There are alcoholics in my family.  I’m not one of them.  As a matter of fact, I don’t drink.  (And it has NOTHING to do with my feelings about alcohol, it’s simply because I don’t like it.)  But seriously, to me it represents dysfunction.  It represents sadness. It represents the demolition of a family.  It represents horror.  These are the things it represents to ME.

Disclaimer:  I do not believe that alcohol should be banned or that it is the cause of every bad thing that happens.  This is just MY view.  End Disclaimer.

Every time I open the fridge, this awkward bottle stored in the door wobbles to one side or the other and makes it’s presence known.  I sneer at it, threaten to toss it out and then slam the fridge door closed behind me.  It’s not mine.  I can’t just toss it out.  I have to continue to store it.

So, like the bottle of wine, there are things in my life that I just don’t want to store anymore.  Things I despise and resent.  Things that represent dysfunction, sadness and horror.  Difference is, they are mine, and I can just toss them out.  But I don’t.  They wobble around in my life because they just don’t fit anymore.  I sneer at them and then slam the door closed behind me, leaving them right where they are.  In some ways, it seems like if I get rid of them, there will be something missing from my life.  There is a bizarre sense of comfort that comes from having them there.

For a long time, I didn’t know that I could get rid of them.  I thought that since they were a part of my past, that I had to carry them around with me forever.  But I don’t.  I know that I can, at any point, simply put them down and walk away.  I don’t have to look back.  I don’t have to worry that I have “illegally dumped” them because in the Kingdom of heaven, there is no wrong place to dump things.  You just do it.  And mysteriously, God makes the trash disappear.  But then He does something even more profound.  He replaces them with things that I need; love, compassion, mercy, acceptance.  Things that fit perfectly into my life.  Beautiful things that I want to look at over and over; things that I would NEVER slam a door on!

Every day is trash day.  One by one I’m going to take things out and dump them.  I’ve done a lot of that already, but I have more to do.  Anyone care to join me in de-cluttering?

Divisions?

I spent my morning today learning a little…and I emphasize A LITTLE about early church history and how our denomination came to be.  I learned that there are hefty divisions within the “church” communities, and there still are today.

Not too long ago I wrote about some of these divisions, and how the cracks start even within families.  You can read it here.

Well, I’ve just learned that the family cracks are far deeper than I ever imagined.  It hurts.  It hurts to be offended by what’s said and not feel empowered to defend your beliefs.  It hurts when the laws of civil discussions are ignored when one launches into the what’s and why’s of what they believe and then end the discussion when the rebuttal offends them.

Here’s the thing:  I know what I know.  I know what God has revealed to ME and the work He’s done in ME.  I can’t speak on what I don’t know and won’t attempt to do so.  But I’m hurt that it’s stuff like this that rubs soot on the eggshell and highlights the cracks.  I can live with the cracks.  I can even live with divisions.  But why do they have to be made so clear and so evident that it hurts to look at them?

Lord, thank you for the mind you have given me, and the words You have spoken into my heart.  I know that nothing can separate me from You and your love.  Help me, Jesus, to embrace those who offend me, and love those who hurt me.  Help me to release the offense to You, and to recognize the human nature of my own mind as well as the minds of the ones who offend me.  In Jesus’ name, I pray…Amen.

Mature Faith

Listening to Joyce Meyer talking about mature faith.  Her point resonates with me.

• I, as a Christian, have not been given the job of explaining the why and why not’s of God’s decisions. (That’s a relief!)
• Do I love God only for the things He does for me or for who He is? (I think sometimes that is true.)
• Can I, as a Christian, continue to love Him even when things don’t go the way I want, or in a way that I understand?  (I think I do)
• Will I, as a Christian continue to trust Him, knowing that all things will work out for the best? (Hard as it is, I think I do this)
• Am I offended by God?  And is that offense at God causing me to stumble in my walk? (Wow.  That’s a tough one.  I think sometimes I am offended.)
• Can I stop being offended at God, and work again to trust Him?  (With His help, yup.  I can do this.)

I have been taught that it’s ok to be angry at God; He is big enough to handle it.  But, to be offended is different.  It’s easy to be offended by Him.  Really, it is.  I see all around me people who are blessed by the the things He has done for them.  And they don’t even know it.  I feel offended when I think about the fact that God KNOWS my hearts desires and yet still, those desires are left unfufilled.  In my offense, I become stuck in my faith journey.  Rather than focus on the things that God has done for me, often I’m looking only at what He hasn’t done.  Today, I’m goning to make an effort to get over it, to stop being a spoiled child and become the mature child that He desires me to be.