love encounter

i blogged this entry over on the 40 Days for Life blog today. Will you pray for us? God is moving - and i want to be so sensitive to His voice as i do my best to serve Him...

If you haven't checked out the blog yet, here's the link: www.calgary40dfl.blogspot.com We're on day 8!

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My midwife is over in the same corner of the city as the abortion clinic.
And so... knowing i had to make that trip, i made plans to go pray at the clinic after my appointment was over.
My midwife had another midwife assisting who is in the process of getting certified in Canada - she's fresh from Nigeria - and her long dark fingers palpated my tiny son in the womb. She wore a smile on her face as she told me with her thick accent, "He's wiggling..."
They took forever to find his heartbeat - and it took both of them - sighing over the inconvenience of my anterior placenta - and i couldn't help but grin at my tiny son, knowing he had nothing to do with it's placement but thinking it would be funny if he did. When finally they did find it, my midwife gave a wry laugh and said, "Oh! It's actually a girl!"
And i laughed too, "i won't cry either way..."
i grabbed my paperwork for my third trimester blood work and walked quickly to my car. i pulled on my gloves, scarf, toque and zipped my jacket to my chin... it was cloudy, and the cold felt like it wanted to seep through every possible route straight to my chilled flesh.
i pulled around the final bend - and found the sidewalk bare - like my Father had cleared the space for an intimate gathering of just us two. i parked my little car and grabbed my sign out of the back... it's my testimony and it reads, "i was scared too... she was worth it." And if i tuck a 40 Days for Life sign underneath it, i can hold them both at the same time...
i grabbed my earphones and plugged them in to my ears - i sometimes listen to worship music as i pray - to help keep me focussed and soft.
i don't know that i could describe what followed as anything other than a love encounter... Anyone familiar with Jesus Culture (the band) - or just my JESUS -  might understand what i'm talking about... i felt Him there and i spent time meditating on the scripture verse that had been given to me by two different people in as many days....

If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. ² If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. ³ If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.
⁴ Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. ⁵ It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. ⁶ Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. ⁷ It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. 1 Corinthians 13:1-8

And then the one that i am learning seems inextricably linked...

1 John 1:19
WE LOVE BECAUSE HE FIRST LOVED US.

(If that's too succinct for you, go look up the surrounding verses... powerful stuff...)

So, i'm standing there on the sidewalk... and i'm realizing that the only reason i'm capable of love at all... is because of Him... and He is faithfully showing me how... and i'm listening to Kim Walker belt out, "He loves us - oh how He loves us!!"
And i see women - dropped off - walking through those doors alone...
And i know that as much as i want to encounter God... God wants to encounter them...
And for this same reason, i must want to encounter them too, to love them, to reach out to them... because my presence here means nothing without love. My testimony is just ink on posterboard without love. My reason for love is inescapable, unchangeable, irrevocable - because that's how God is... He loved me first & His love never fails...
Just as i was finishing my hour, a man pulled up in a nice car. He parked by the curb instead of in the parking lot and fairly ran inside. He was well dressed, with a suit and tie - he looked to be at least my age - far beyond the typical "crisis pregnancy" age. Soon, he came out again, helping a woman who was as well dressed as her husband. Her pretty dress coat was buttoned to her neck and she looked as prim as any woman who sits beside me in our little white collar suburban church on a Sunday morning... except she was obviously in pain. It took them a while to make it to the car, and gently he opened the door and helped her lower herself carefully to the seat. And i watched - and ached - and loved from across that street.
Abortions happen all the time in our city - all for different reasons, and under different circumstances. The only thing that never changes is death. Abortion masquarades as a cure all for so many circumstances: a special needs child in the womb, a poverty stricken family, yet. another. female child, a single mother, a highschool pregnancy, an abusive relationship, a terrifying rape... But the secret is that abortion does nothing to cure the roots of these "problems"... the result of abortion is not a cure all, it's a dead child. That's all. An abortion doesn't change the circumstances or turn back time... it just kills.
And i ache as i watch woman after woman leave that clinic in 'hour one' of their new reality. There is no judgement - there is only mercy on our side of the street... As a mother myself, i know the incredible transformative, overwhelming love that a mother feels for her child. The day that the realization of what she has done hits - i can only imagine the agony, the remorse and the grief that these women bear... i've seen it on the faces of women who have told me their abortion stories... even decades after they happened. It's not a pain to be wished on anyone.
Yes, i want to be a sign of hope to the families that book appointments at the clinic. My dream is that they'll turn around and not go through with the scheduled abortion. But for the ones that do go through with it... i feel it deep in my soul... *we need to be there as a sign of mercy*. We need to be there even more for them. My Father loves them...
And so do i.

The desert and the parched land will be glad;
the wilderness will rejoice and blossom.
Like the crocus, ² it will burst into bloom;
it will rejoice greatly and shout for joy.
The glory of Lebanon will be given to it,
the splendor of Carmel and Sharon;
they will see the glory of the Lord,
the splendor of our God.

³ Strengthen the feeble hands,
steady the knees that give way;
⁴ say to those with fearful hearts,
“Be strong, do not fear;
your God will come,
he will come with vengeance;
with divine retribution
he will come to save you.”

⁵ Then will the eyes of the blind be opened
and the ears of the deaf unstopped.
⁶ Then will the lame leap like a deer,
and the mute tongue shout for joy.
Water will gush forth in the wilderness
and streams in the desert.
⁷ The burning sand will become a pool,
the thirsty ground bubbling springs.
In the haunts where jackals once lay,
grass and reeds and papyrus will grow.

Isaiah 35:1-7

 

Dear Lord, I pray these verses from Isaiah for women who have suffered an abortion. They know the desert. Their souls are parched, their knees give way, their hearts are fearful. Do for them, Lord what you have done for {others}. Open their eyes and ears, quench their thirst, fill them until they are bursting with your life and shouting for joy. Use me, Lord, in whatever way you will, to invite them to your streams in the desert. Amen. (prayer is an excerpt from book, 40 Days for Life, available on amazon)

so, i'm blogging...

It's that time again.
40 Days for Life is here again, and once more, my Father has so gently led me to be a part of this transformative journey. i'd love if you'd follow along over on the other blog!

Here is my blog post for today, (day 3):

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At our last organizational meeting, our campaign director asked a couple of new faces to introduce themselves and explain a little bit why they were involved in prolife. It's an interesting question - one that i ask myself constantly, 'Why this little bit of the battle, Father? Why the littlest ones? Why such an uncomfortable, controversial place for me to stand?'
These are common questions for most people involved in prolife work, i've found. Most of us understand the delicate place we've been asked to stand, and the vulnerability of all those involved in the battle. The scripture and prayer included in the book, 40 Days for Life for day three speak directly to that questioning of a gentle Father - who so tenderly leads us...

"For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways," declares the Lord. "As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts." Isaiah 55:8-9

"Father, never let me doubt your power to accomplish your will. And remind me to not try to limit the breadth and grandeur of your vision. My dreams and aspirations may be modest, but yours are sweeping, majestic, and awe-inspiring. Give me the courage to dream big along with you. Amen."

The stories that unfold from the question, "why are you involved in prolife work?" point to the obvious leading of a Holy God who has a plan, and a deep love for human kind. He longs to see the prolifers engaging in this issue changed by their involvement and prayers. He longs to see reconciliation, salvation, lives changed... lives saved.
We all have a part to do - if you listen carefully, He's giving you your instructions...

purpose

i blog because i like to write. i'm a stay at home mama with my nest full of chickies and i know this season is so short and so many of my memories are fleeting. My Father's lessons are coming thick and fast - and i want to try to capture some of the journey that He has brought me on... and will bring me through.
But during 40 Days for Life, i do let my little blog slip and slide as i blog over HERE.
During 40 Days for Life - i blog because i want to be obedient - and i feel burdened for my country and this culture that finds abortion acceptable. During 40 Days for Life, i blog for Caleb and Hope and Tiny - because my mama heart refuses to deny their value as tiny human persons who never got to live outside my womb. During 40 Days for Life - i facilitate others sharing their prolife stories on a public blog because i think that our community of prolife believers needs to grow - both in numbers and in courage.
If you have a prolife story to share (or you just want to be encouraged in your prolife journey), i invite you to come check out our Calgary 40 Days for Life blog.
i won't forget about my tiny bit of home turf here... i'll be 'round... :)
www.calgary40dfl.blogspot.com

sidelined

Neil and i went on a date the night before and i felt awesome, but at 4am - i woke up and my body was miserable.
Miserable.
When my alarm went off in the morning, i felt guilty for feeling awful - i was supposed to set up our 40 Days for Life table at church and i was ready to explain what we're doing *again and again and again* as many times as was necessary to get people to see that every single day in Calgary there are around 15 children whose lives are taken in their own mama's wombs. i wanted to tell them how our presence vigilling at the clinic is imperative because that's where abortions are happening. i wanted to tell them how we know we are a sign of hope for those little ones who are scheduled for death - and a sign of mercy to their mamas who are blinded by a moment of crisis. i wanted to point out the current trend in our culture to devalue all human life - and i wanted the chance to tell them that if we began to see value in the vulnerable - there would be a great awakening towards the Creator who so lovingly fashioned us all. i knew today was important, but i couldn't stand up without feeling violently dizzy. i tried to have a shower and ended up on the floor. i crawled to my closet and got on a skirt and top - and then collapsed on my bed and texted my friend who was doing the table with me and told her i couldn't make it.
The rest of the day is a blur - i slept, i drank apple cider vinegar, i drank water, took advil for my pounding head and didn't stand upright at all.
And i hate days like that... where i'm unable. Those days when i feel like i failed the important. The ones where i didn't even have one good mama conversation with one child, didn't make the bed, didn't clean anything other than my own sick. It feels wasted.
And at the end of the day - i still feel rotten.
But i know - that as frustrated as i am to be sidelined... that this battle against injustice isn't mine alone. My friends stood in my place and gave out information.
A meagre three - but still THREE - signed up to take time praying at the vigil.
God wasn't stuck sick in bed... only i was.
And that makes all the difference in the world.
He's got this and i trust Him.

Not what you do, what you are.

When you're a Jesus freak - life is pretty much constant wrestling.
i love that story in the bible in Genesis 32 where Jacob literally wrestles with God. When Cai chose the name "Israel" (meaning he who struggles with God) for Mollen's middle name, i loved the idea of her being a child who would wrestle with a Holy Father in ways that would bring her deeper in Truth. (There were other bits and pieces that went into picking that name, but that meaning was a wiggling piece on my conscience that filled me with a deep satisfaction).
And then there's that verse in Philippians that says, "Therefore, my dear friends, as you have always obeyed—not only in my presence, but now much more in my absence—continue to work out (or wrestle out) your salvation with fear and trembling," (and then because i can't quite stop there, verse 13 says, "for it is God who works in you to will and to act in order to fulfill his good purpose.")
There's also the verses in Ephesians that talk about wrestling not against flesh and blood, "but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms."
It has always seemed pretty clear to me that in seeing and accepting my Father's utter love for me - and responding to it with even just my tiniest bit of faith - i was inviting a lifetime of wrestling; waging war against darkness - and also wrestling in my own heart. Sometimes that's how i find the Truth He reveals as i refuse to turn away from the questions that seem hard, and i struggle to resist complacency and bitter resentment.
And so i feel like we walk along - (i'm not one of those super confident Christians who can say with certainty how my Wild Father will act; he has never seemed tame to me) - and i never know when, exactly, there's gonna be a tussle.
But i guess i've learned that there is this sameness between the One who seems to crush me on occasion - and the One who beckons softly like a mama.
And so it seems natural that even while i'm gasping for breath, brushing the grass off my pants, heart pounding in a furious 'fight or flight' rhythm - i hear Him whisper gently, "You're mine. This here? This uncertainty and this vulnerability? This never ending feeling of complete inability and failure... That's got an end.  i've got something for you... just watch."
And so timidly - i take some steps forward - waiting for Him to spring out of the bushes (which He might do too... you never know...)
i see a movement up ahead and i cock my head, "Is this it? Is this what we're waiting for?" i ask - full of hopeful trust.
"No. It's not... keep going..."
And so i do. Carefully. Intentionally... never sure where we're headed - but unwaveringly sure of the final outcome.
So i woke up this morning, quite honestly, a little undone. i missed a little sleep, i miss my husband who has been gone for two weeks, and i was feeling unable.
i got dressed in something presentable and choked down a piece of toast with my coffee, all the while allowing my mind to wander and be entertained by my tiny 2 year old buffoon.
Finally - i brushed the crumbs off my dress and pulled out the notes that i had written for my meeting with a pastor at one of those huge city churches - carefully scribing the details i didn't want to forget and printing off a few resources i knew i'd want at my finger tips. Then i crept upstairs and woke my teen and told her she was in charge and i climbed into my car.
i could feel a vaporizing inadequacy seeping from my pores and so i put on some of my favourite music - that soaks me in scripture and truth. Almost immediately i felt Him grab me from behind, and i spoke out loud all the vulnerability that almost incapacitates me in moments like this... We wrestled.
Finally my voice broke, and the sound came out in a cry, "Why do You even want me anyway?"
i let those words stand - as the music swept around me and my little car barrelled down the highway and i worshipped the God who wanted me - even though i couldn't fathom any good reason why.
At reception, i waited. i crossed and uncrossed my legs, pulling my dress down around my knees.Finally, warmly, the pastor invited me into a room so we could talk. i pulled out everything i had so carefully prepared - and she listened thoughtfully as i expressed to her how prayer had been transforming me.  i told her how when we stand and vigil at that abortion clinic - our mission is twofold; first to be a sign of hope for the little ones who have been sentenced to death. Our presence speaks the truth that their little lives have intrinsic value. Secondly, our presence is a sign of mercy to the mothers who are exiting that clinic having followed through with the appointment that brought death. We want to stand there and be the last ones they see before they enter the clinic - and we'll pray earnestly and fervently while they're inside - and then be the first ones they see when they come out out of the clinic too. Hope. Mercy. Book ends that will bring healing to a broken land.
"And what does your sign say?" she asked me.
"My sign? Well... i usually carry one that i made. It says, 'you are loved'. When people ask me why i chose that message, i tell them that i truly believe that if mothers and fathers could really understand their own value as a human person - that they are loved by their creator - then they would be unable to take the life of the little one they carry. Then they'd understand that it's nothing they *do* that makes them valuable... It's what they *are* that has set them apart."
Hey Daughter... i hear His voice... That's why I want you. It's not what you do that has made you valuable to me - it's what you are. You're mine, and I like you.
And i'm undone.
i feel a connection with the little ones i pray for. The words i speak on their behalf - are words of truth that cover me too.
So i'll keep taking steps in this wild adventure - i'll struggle and wrestle... i'll experience joy and sorrow... i'll not conform to the pattern of this world, but i'll be transformed by the renewing of my mind. Then i will be able to test and approve what God’s will is —his good, pleasing and perfect will. (romans 12:2)
And then by His grace, i'll follow through and do it.

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For more information on 40 Days for Life and to see if there is a campaign near you, click HERE.
To follow along on Calgary's vigil starting on September 26th, find, "like" and share our facebook page HERE. Check out our blog HERE.

SLED - LOCATION

A friend told me this illustration...
A woman is walking along a beach... she is smelling the sea salt air - and drinking in the beauty of the rippling waves on the water's surface.  There's just the barest breeze - and she decides - on a whim - to take out her row boat - escaping the confines of land to explore the vastness of the ocean. 
Out she rows from shore - until the trees swaying on the land are mere specks.  She leans back to enjoy the warmth of the sun - stretching her muscles after her long row and settling in to enjoy the fruit of her labour. 
That's when she first hears the baby cry. 
She's shocked to see the tiny pink corner of a baby blanket under the wooden seat.  How could she not have noticed that there's a baby on her boat?  The baby's whimper turns into a cry and the woman - in stunned amazement - picks up the child to comfort it.  But what is she to do?  She had planned on staying out in the row boat.  She owns the boat, and the hours of sunlight are limited.  The child has no claim on her - or her boat. 
She didn't ask for this responsibility. 
The land is so far away that it takes her a few minutes to pick out the outline of the dock that she left hours ago now...
She realizes in that moment that though the child has no claim on her... she has a responsibility to the child.  Even though her muscles ache, she must return the child to shore before she can continue her trip.  The thought of tossing the child over the side of the boat doesn't even occur to her - and if someone suggested it to her... the idea would revolt her. 
She realizes that the location of the baby doesn't impact the value of it's life.
& so
should
we.

what i'm learning from twitter...

1. There are quite a few unkind people in the world... & many of them are on twitter.  :)
2. Life is way too short to take offence at unkind people.  They're broken & hurting too.  Be gracious & gentle - even when others aren't.   (wwjd?)
3.  When people don't know how to respond to you - or they don't understand you - they'll often insult you.
4.  This doesn't mean you're wrong. 
5.  Be humble.  (it's true - i have only have 2 years of music school from a community college post secondary... it's not much.  & yes... i have in the past & will likely in the future, make mistakes that would allow me to earn the label, "ignorant fool"... i don't need to fight every insult.)
6.  But don't allow your *smallness* or lack of education keep you from speaking what truth you do know or have learned.  Our world desperately needs every who down in whoville... kwim? 
8.  Often those most guilty of elitism have the weakest arguments.  Worry only about truth - look for it, be shaped by it, share it... even if you're dismissed because you're nothing but a stay at home mama. 
9.  When you're too tender, take a step back - or choose not to step in.  We're only human... & twitter is the most optional thing in the universe.  :)
10.  You're not going to change everyone's mind (or anyone's?)  One piece of advice i was given about prolife discussions is that it's most often the people observing the conversation (or debate) that are changed by it rather than the people doing the talking... Truth sticks in our mind like little barbs... We need to keep putting pieces of truth out there - in our homes, in our congregations, with our friends & family; gently & with humility.  Daily speaking counter cultural truth will have a vast impact over the course of many years...  
11.  Finally... i'm learning that i still have so much to learn.  Tone and meaning are so often misunderstood when you're communicating with strangers in blips of 140 characters or less... i want to get better at it. 

status quo

 i saw a comment on an article about the abortion debate (i know, i know... i should never read the comments on the internet...) & it stated what i've seen *so* many comments state regarding the reopening of the abortion debate in Canada.  It suggested that most Canadians are moderates - and all those extremist, "anti-choicers" who would like to see abortion in Canada come to an end are never going to get what they want - so why bother debating it at all. 
Leave it as it is. 
The majority of Canadians are happy with the status quo. 
The thing that i don't think these commenters realize (& certainly not those who would label themselves, "moderates") - is that Canada's stance on abortion is anything but moderate.  We have the most extreme stance on abortion of any other developed country in the world - we're on par with North Korea and China in that we have *no abortion legislation*.  Canadians as a whole would like to see some legislation on abortion & i suspect that if more Canadians knew the truth about abortion in Canada the numbers would be even higher in favour of public debate and legislation.  (For more information, see We Need A Law HERE.)
Just because it has been the status quo since 1988 doesn't make it ok.  Just because the government refuses to debate it doesn't mean that a majority of Canadians are ok with it.  Just because a handful of extremists on the other side are happy with abortion being legal and tax funded at any stage of pregnancy for any reason... doesn't mean that the rest of Canada should be going along with them without resistance or debate. 
Sometimes i think we hate discomfort so much - that we'll do anything to continue with the status quo - even when our situation reeks of injustice.  i get that.  Change is uncomfortable.  We would be forced to reach in, to dig deep, to speak love into horrible, difficult situations. 
Oh, Jesus... do we have the courage to be Your hands and feet?
Certainly - to some it might seem preferable to turn our heads, avert our eyes and mutter, "Do whatever you want" - to the woman in crisis who is heading into the abortion clinic. 
But we can do better...
Can't we? 
Our children deserve a better Canada than this...
Don't they?

May 22, 2012

k, guys... there's something really big in the works for prolife in Canada.  There's a teaser clip on YouTube that's going around.  It has been shared on LifeSite news, (see their post HERE) and it's gathering steam in prolife circles everywhere.  May 22nd is right around the corner - i'm curious to see what it is.  They say on the clip, "It once signalled the coming of a great injustice.  Now it will make the invisible victims visible."
i'm going to be watching closely on May 22nd - and cheer for this new project that promises to rock the abortion debate forever.  Join the movement and repost!

old enough

My tiniest girlie is turning eight. 
i have honestly been soaking in these last sweet days of seven... letting her climb on my lap more, opening my arms a little more instead of pushing her away because she's getting too long... too heavy. 
Fourth daughter, some things we've figured out by now.  One has been a tentative time line for girls who want glitter in their ear lobes & their eighth birthday is when they're "allowed" to get them pierced. 
*ouch*! 
Two out of the previous three got their ears pierced, the third says, "not now, not ever..." but little Molls, my fourth, is chomping at the bit to get this little rite of passage passed. 
i went to the store to find out about getting them done & checked out the little baubly earrings - birth stones, hello kitty, tiny metal balls...
"& remember," the friendly lady's voice chimed at me, "If she's under 16, we'll need the parent's photo identification & a signature on a waiver form!"
"Sure." i smiled as i left the store...
& then it occurred to me. 
This is the country we live in.  Where children 15 & under need parental photo identification and a signature on a legally binding document to get their child's ears pierced (not that i think this is a bad idea....)
But that these same little girls - minors in Canada - can go to an abortion clinic and require no parental notification to abort their tiny babies...
Something is off here. 
We don't trust a child with a decision to poke holes in their ears, but when it comes to an invasive surgery that will kill their offspring in the womb... (the grandchild of the parents who needed to sign a waiver for an ear piercing appointment)... we put the burden entirely on her delicate shoulders? 
& i know that it's a reminder to mamas (& daddies)... know your child...
But i know too, the shame that hits when your pregnancy is unplanned.  i know the voices that come out of the woodwork to counsel death.  i know... that i know... that i know... that many, many, many little lives have been lost because an abortion seemed like an easier option than telling the truth to parents who would be disappointed.
i've said it before, but it hit me again: Canada's stance on abortion is extreme & nothing will change it until our hearts are softened...
Our daughters are being raised in a Canada that sees life as disposable.  They're being raised in a Canada that gives no rights to the unborn - at any stage of pregnancy.  Our daughters are being saturated in a culture that tells them that they have the right to end the life of another living human being... if that human being is unwanted.  & they're also being raised in a Canada that is ever shifting to a culture of death - embracing euthanasia, and allowing those among us who are weak... to come to see their lives as lives without value. 
It's up to us as parents to talk back to culture, to raise them to see Truth, and to love God.
Change our hearts, Father.
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& dear missy moo:
i love you.  i'm sorry for such a somber birthday post.  Maybe i will do better before your big day, but if not - know that your mama cares so deeply about the tiny woman that you are growing into.  i praise God for His faithfulness in raising you to be such a fabulous little lady.  You are a precious jewel. 
mama

He was despised and rejected

A facebook friend posted this on his wall:

A  Franciscan benediction

May God bless you with discomfort at easy answers, half-truths, and superficial relationships, so that you may live deep within your heart.
May God bless you with anger at injustice, oppression and exploitation of people, so that you may work for justice, freedom and peace.
May God bless you with tears to shed for those who suffer pain, rejection, hunger, and war, so that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and turn their pain into joy.
And may God bless you with enough foolishness to believe that you can make a difference in the world, so that you can do what others claim cannot be done to bring justice and kindness to all our children and the poor.
Amen

& i smiled & added my amen too.
 
Neil is often teasing me - that for someone so sensitive to rejection, i sure picked a tough topic to be passionate about, (in my compassion for the unborn).  It seems like being a Christian these days opens you up to all kinds of false accusations of intolerance, hatred, ignorance and fear... & it's hard to silence your desire to defend yourself, and to search only for Truth amidst  the anger and hurt that pervades our current cultural climate. 
The littles & i have been reading Job this past while... & it struck me this time through - how hard it must have been for Job to lose, (on top of everything else), his spotless reputation.  Before, he had been the kind of guy who was sought out for his opinions... he was the kind who cared for the fatherless and the poor, he was the kind of guy who offered sacrifices for his kids, "in case they sinned" while he wasn't watching... & suddenly - when he was afflicted - everyone was quick to believe that he must have done something wrong.  i don't think that part of the story had ever been impressed on me before... i thought of the disappointment of losing riches, the grief of losing children, the agony of the loss of physical health... but to lose your reputation too on top of it all, knowing that you had done nothing to deserve it - that must've stunk. 
Jesus was no stranger to false accusations either... &  He was perfect, sinless... a spotless sacrificial lamb...  & it wasn't by accident that he was attacked in every possible way - physically, spiritually, mentally - his reputation was scorned & even now, i hear people scoff at my King - & mock Him for claiming to be the son of God.  It was prophesied years before he was even born, that this was going to be his fate... It says in Isaiah 53,
³ 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.
⁴ Surely he took up our pain
and bore our suffering,
yet we considered him punished by God,
stricken by him, and afflicted.

& now... i know that sometimes the half-truths would be easier to swallow.  i see so many who, like me, are uncomfortable with rejection & false accusations.  We wanna bend - to say, "Yes well... maybe that's not sin then... for you... in your circumstance.  i don't want you to hurt so i'll give you a comforting half-truth and in return you'll not call me a bigot, misogynist, hateful, hurtful Christian..."
But no...
Our job is to gently, lovingly - humbly... speak truth... despite the labels, despite the rejection, despite the discomfort. 
i'm sure that's how God must feel when He corrects us.  It's humbling as a child to be taken out of a situation where you're making a little fool of yourself (i'm remembering my childhood more than my children's) - & corrected... & i know it has been embarrassing as an adult, to have my bad behaviour become so obvious when God has (in His great mercy) corrected me.  But God offers us direction & correction because He loves us and He wants to protect us.  He doesn't want a woman to live in grovelling fear & shame for the rest of her life over the heartbreaking decision of abortion, but He wants to bring her Home, to set her apart, He longs to protect us from our own selves & our own evil choices. 
So, today i took it as a tiny blessing when i read that Franciscan Benediction above,  that can i see that i *do* have that ounce of foolishness that would allow me to believe that maybe God can use me to make a small difference in this world... & so i'll take up my cross & follow.

"i had an abortion"

We've stood on that street corner dozens of times together.  We met on that street corner, visited, made friends, and kept each other warm.  She's a do-er... a woman of action, finding needs to be met, and meeting them.  i think she must vigil every day, because every time i come - she's already there... pacing that sidewalk faithfully - praying for the families that come looking for solutions in that clinic across the street. 
i arrive and am frustrated with myself for not dressing warmer.  You'd think i'd have learned my lesson by now, but no... constantly i'm arriving and thinking to myself... 'man, it's colder than i thought...'  But an hour's not too long to stand in the cold, so i make do.  i'm still gathering my scattered thoughts - and she's talking to me... she's telling me how someone yelled at her, "Go find something useful to do!"
i laugh - knowing there aren't a lot of 73 year old women who do as much as this one does - bringing meals to those who need them, vigilling in the cold hour after hour, translating encouraging books and messages into her first language for those back home who have never learned english...
"Yes," i say, "There are a lot of people who don't see the value in standing here and praying for those tiny lives aren't there?"
"i had an abortion."
i hear the words, but i'm sure i must not have heard correctly. i wasn't looking at her... but i am now... and her brown eyes are searching my face, watching my reaction... seeing the surprise that's registering there.  i feel my face crumble as it mirrors hers, and i grab her and wrap my arms around her. 
She's talking quickly now... and tears flow down her still-beautiful face - wetting the front of her warm jacket.  She was only twenty.  She had to pay for it herself out of her meagre paycheque.  She describes feeling robbed, lost, without hope or options. 
i'm crying with her - as we stand a stone's throw from the abortion clinic where our tax dollars pay for the same heartache thousands of times over every year. 
"If i would have seen people praying... outside that hospital, i would have run.  i never could have done it.  If i could only go in there, i know what's happening in there... i know how that life gets taken... i could tell them... " She breaks off sobbing. 
She tells me how she ran from her shame - threw herself away from family and immersed herself in labour... working constantly to dull the pain. 
Her voice rises and breaks into a cry, "i was dead inside.  i hate myself i HATE myself."
& in that moment, i hate abortion.  i do.  i hate the agony that it brings, i hate that it brought death to a child who should now be a 53 year old grandmother, i hate the pain that i see on my friend's face as she relives her agony.  i hate that this "solution" leaves ugly gaping wounds - and steals, kills and destroys. 
"God now... He's healing me."
& i see that He is - Redeemer, Healer, Father. 
i want to croon, to hold her like a mama holds her baby... i ask her if i can pray for her... because this sadness is too overwhelming.  It's too consuming.  It's too big - this ancient grief over a half a century borne on her shoulders. 
i pray... stumbling, quaking words - trusting that my Father in Heaven will one day make it all right... i pray that she will have faith that one day, she will meet this tiny one who didn't get the chance to live. 
Her shout interrupts my prayer and she adds, "Yes!  I believe it, i believe that!"
& i believe it too... i believe that there is healing for every broken hearted mama in Calgary who needs forgiveness and tastes the bitter regret of an abortion.  i believe that the God of the universe will do right - & there will be no more tears when we live with Him. 
My friend has to leave - i thank her for sharing her story with me.  i ask her if i can share it with all of you - & she says, "Yes, yes!!  If i can help even one woman..."
She's gone, and my eyes are closed in prayer...
i look up, and i see a man escorting a woman from that clinic to a waiting car. 
She's in her pyjamas... and she's shaky on her feet. 
The horror of the reality of abortion and the picture of the sorrow that could be this woman's future is too fresh in my mind - i'm undone. 
i hold my sign a little higher as their car pulls out of the parking lot. 
i see her face white in the window of the car.  She's looking right at me. 
"You are loved..." my sign proclaims.
i'm crying that horrible ugly cry... and i know i look like a lunatic - so overcome in that moment by what i know has happened... just like it happened 53 years ago.  i grieve for that little life... and the little life lost all those decades ago. 
"Oh, Father," i pray, "show her that truth."
The light changes, and the car pulls out of the parking lot - and becomes lost in the flow of traffic.

if you don't like abortion...

i couldn't tell you how many times i have read that phrase from those who advocate unlimited access to abortions, "If you don't like abortion, don't have one..."
& i get what they're trying to say. 
i totally understand that an unplanned pregnancy can be a tender thing - full of shame and uncertainty.  Watching women going in & out of that abortion clinic has solidified this view for me.  These aren't liberated, confident women... these are fear-filled women; many of them are coerced - and i'm willing to bet that none of them feel like they have any "choice" in the matter. 
The reason i feel like i can't be silent about abortion isn't because i want a hand too, in manipulating these vulnerable women... it's because there is another life at stake.  There is a little one in danger of being torn from the safety of his mother's womb. 
A baby. 
To say that i should only consider my own children borne of my own body when i consider the world-wide epidemic of abortion, seems rather short sighted.  That's like saying that if i don't like child abuse, i shouldn't abuse my own children....
Should i not speak out on behalf of the little ones who are battered and wounded at the hands of their parents?  Or is it enough that i don't lay a hand on my own, since child abuse is such a personal matter, between a parent and child. 
Should we not seek to protect the vulnerable ones... both born, and unborn?  Whether they're ours, or not?
Standing at the abortion clinic and praying - is the most effective thing that we can do to change hearts and lives.  We often hold signs to remind those mama's of the tender life they carry - not in judgement - but in compassionate mercy. 
Hey, mama... you have other choices.  We love you - and are here because you and your little one are precious in His sight... i know it hurts to see us here.  i don't want to cause pain, but i do want to save you from the permanence of abortion... 

If you don't like abortion... join us & pray.

i miss

We got home from swimming on Saturday & i threw my hair into a sloppy pony tail 'cause i had to hurry to to get to our last 40 Days for Life planning meeting on time.  i asked Neil if i could take his spanking new work truck to my meeting and he looked at me like i gave him a sucker punch, so i quickly amended, "Oh, actually, i'd rather just take the big van.  i'm used to it."  Relief flooded his features & i laughed, grabbed my keys and ran. 
i wasn't even down the block before it hit me like a sucker punch. 
i miss Fawne. 
How many times have Fawne and i driven this exact road from McKenzie Towne to our city's large, free-standing abortion clinic?  She moved to Phoenix how many months ago now?  i miss how she could always speak my language... We are a funny little set of friends.  She's a teacher and prophet... at least... that's how i see her... & even though i have no idea what my "spiritual gifts" are... i'm fairly certain that teacher and prophet are the farthest things from them.  She's a warrior with a burning desire for justice.  Me?  i'm weeping mercy.  She's brown hair, brown eyed beauty.  i'm blonde & blue eyed... She's the first born leader, i'm the baby, a born people pleaser... and yet our conversations seemed to always leave me just a little more ready, a little more willing, a little more open to following through on those ideas and truths we so often talked about. 
One time, i remember praying on that corner by the Kensington abortion clinic.  It was so busy that day - with cars going in and out of that packed little parking lot.  i was the only one there during the hour that i prayed and at the end of my time, knowing that i needed to get home for my children and family, i hated to leave, so i lingered...i begged God to send someone in my stead, and reluctantly loaded my kids back in the van for the drive home.  Later i found out that minutes after i left, Fawne had arrived and continued to watch and pray - after listening to that still small voice that bid her to come - and obeying. 
But now she's gone, and we won't share rides, keep each other company or spell each other off on that lonely sidewalk anymore.  i flicked off the radio that was filling the van with noise.  And then i started to pray.  & i didn't pray quietly in my head either - i took advantage of my solitude and i prayed louder than i was comfortable with.  i told Him that i wanted to choose to do right, no matter what... no matter if i'm in my big van by myself, or surrounded by believers who think i'm doing the right thing.  i don't want to be influenced by loneliness - because my mom taught me a long time ago that loneliness is only the invitation of God - & Oh, Father, i wanna enter in to that invitation to follow you...  
Even if i ache with the knowledge that the truth is going to bring pain to so many... i want to speak it.  Even if i burn with embarrassment to stand on the street corner and plead with my Father for the unborn... i want to stand and pray.  Even if i get lonely and wish that there were more who shared my calling... i want to hear His voice and follow.  Even if i feel uncomfortable siding with the unpopular truth - the side that is mocked, judged and distanced by believers and non... i want to stand and be counted.

¹ Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship. ² Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will. (romans 12:1-3)

Health Care Charities

Wow. 
Quite the week with all the uproar on the web about the Susan G. Komen Foundations supposed pull, then not pull - of funds to Planned Parenthood. 
i'll be honest here:  i'm obviously not a fan of Planned Parenthood - but here's the naked truth... i'm also not usually a fan of health care charities either.  Neil & i made a decision several years ago to be extremely careful about donating funds to health care charities in light of their overwhelming support & lobbying of government for embryonic stem cell research. 
Don't get me wrong... i want to see a cure for cancer, for diabetes, for kidney disease... i don't want to see my family or friends suffer with illness and death... but i think the creation and destruction of tiny innocent lives is too great a cost. 
i do. 
& i'm sorry if that seems cruel or sanctimonious... i know that a lot of people would roll their eyes at a statement like that, but when we begin to weigh the value of one human life against another, we've just gone too far. 
Apparently, the SGK Foundation had decided this past November to stop funding embryonic stem cell research centers too - & this seems to me to be an indication that there are more people like Neil & i - who are choosing to be careful about health care charities until health care charities are willing to be more careful about created life. 
This isn't political, it's a discussion about who we want to be as a society - and what kind of culture we're creating to pass down to our little ones. 
Each life is precious.  The little girl battling cancer, the unwanted child in the womb, the elderly man who has lost his will to live, and the teenager who is so depressed that he's begging to die.  Let's not become a culture that applauds killing in the name of comforts or cures... It's shameful to be so passionate about the pain of one human being that we advocate the destruction of another...

on having the baby...

After i posted this on facebook this past sunday:

Today is 'sanctity of life Sunday' - the 39th anniversary of Roe vs. Wade in the States... It's time for a new generation that knows better - to do better. (Anyone looked at 3D ultrasounds - or a furiously beating heart in a baby just weeks in the womb?) - All life is precious...

i noticed that some of my "pro-choice" friends had responded by posting harrowing articles about the rates of maternal deaths in the years before abortion was legalized in America.
Those articles didn't change my mind. 
& it's not because i closed my eyes and refused to read them, it's not 'cause the numbers have been found to be fudged on the other side of this debate, it's not even because the picture of a mother, lying dead in a pool of blood after an illegal abortion didn't break my heart, nor is it because i didn't feel for those girls who thought they had no other alternative than to visit a crack pot doctor for an illegal abortion when they had already been abused, sometimes raped - or found themselves in one of life's many 'corners'...
It's because in each and every case cited... there was another person involved.  That little person always lost it's life - in each and every story... the ones where the mother died, the babe died too - first torn limb from limb... the ones where there was a creepy doctor who performed what they paid him to do with horrible bedside manner - the babe died too.  The stories of young girls scraping together the money and convincing friends to help her out of her jam?  The baby was killed in those stories too...
i want to argue something in naivete, if you'll allow me today.  So often the things we want to say aren't culturally acceptable, are they?  You're not allowed to impose your beliefs on another.  If someone wants to dye their hair purple, they can, if someone wants to abort their child, who should tell them to carry it?  If someone wants to drive drunk... we should let them... right?  It's all about free choice, isn't it?  Um... maybe not... But today, i want to ignore that cultural acceptance & i want to naively offer up a suggestion that i think would make the world a better place. 
Pregnancy is 9 months... give or take.  Ladies, mamas, women... would it be so hard to give that?  Yes, there's nausea, exhaustion, hormones... there are vitamins to take, risks to be avoided and weight to be gained, but in all honesty, according to statistics, most women who have an abortion want to have a baby some day, so those things are obstacles they're willing to tackle at some date in the future... What if it was now?  Now i'll admit... i love being pregnant.  i love the feeling of life inside... i know my baby hears the sound of my voice, the beating of my heart... & responds.  i don't like being tired & homely & achey... but i sure do love the miracle unfolding on the inside...
Right now... those little ones growing inside... they have no human rights, they're unprotected, naked, vulnerable.  Those same creepy doctors who were performing illegal abortions before roe vs. wade, just continued doing them after... that horrible situation that you were in before your abortion?   You'll still be in it after, only you'll know... you'll know... that you didn't protect someone who was worthy of their mama's protection....
It's 9 months...
Give or take...
9 months till that little person can be independent, crying and naked and wet from the womb.... into the arms of someone who would weep with gratitude if you still thought you couldn't parent after all that... 9 months of growth, and development... 9 months till baby can live in this new environment... Only 9.
Sure, there would be childbirth, one of the most amazing things the human body can do... there would be the embarrassment of being pregnant when you didn't intend to be, there might be increased vulnerability because of your state...
But there's another life at stake...
You can be a hero... to that little person.  Give them a chance at a gasping breath & allow the life that has already begun - to continue...?

Can you see the future?

The year is 2012. 

This past week, i called Ephraim my, "Sugar baby, honey, honey..." and tickled and kissed him till he squealed.  He drooled all over me and waged war with his big brother to find a spot on my lap.  All seven of you kids crowded into my room and snuggled under blankets laughing and talking and making movie watching virtually impossible.  This is the scene in our home these days... a family, in varying degrees of maturity and growth.  We live in the prairie city of Calgary in the wide expanse of land that is the country of Canada. 

Abortion is legal and rampant here.  i understand there are 5000 little lives lost every year at the Kensington abortion clinic that isn't too far from our house.  There are no limits on abortion right now in this land... a baby can be aborted while it is half delivered from its mama's body... There is no protection for the unborn at any stage of pregnancy... Nor is there any protection for the mamas of these little ones (even minors, children themselves), who find themselves facing a crisis.  In a season of vulnerability - they are invited to make a choice that no mother has the right to make. 

Oh, little ones.  i sigh that this is my generation...

But...

For the first time, i see a kind of a light...

i think things are changing....

i do. 

i used to say things like, "Future generations will be shocked at what was legal and government funded in our day..."  Thinking that the day that abortion was no longer acceptable to the general public was far, far in the future...

But i'm starting to change my mind.  i don't think that the change is as far off as i had imagined.  Could it be that my daughters will never take their little ones to pray for an end to abortion outside of the local clinic because abortion will have become something that our nation has rejected?  Could it be that the children born to my grandchildren will be safe from genetic or sexual discrimination - and that there will be an acceptance and a sheltering for all human life - no matter the size, level of dependence or development?  Could it be that classrooms of children will cringe as they look at photos of the killing that took place in the year 2012, and will ask the adult teaching them..."But why didn't anyone stop them.  Weren't people shocked at the injustice?  Wasn't it obvious that it was human life being taken?"  & i wonder what the teacher will answer as they look together at the evidence, the photographic proof that is before them, just like my socials class asked our teacher those same questions while we watched Schindler's List in highschool... We were blind then to the double standard that condemned Hitler's killing spree... and condoned abortion in our own cities. 

Your auntie posted a video to facebook a couple of months ago... a tiny second long movie of her ultrasound... a glimpse of her unborn child around 9 weeks into her pregnancy.  Even i was shocked - mama of 7 and staunch prolifer - at this tiny niece or nephew... waving arms and legs and heart beating wildly in that moment that was captured.  A tiny masterpiece; the workmanship of God Himself.

Seeing life like that... makes me believe that change is inevitable. 

Honestly, little ones, maybe none of us will remember the night i'm writing this. i'm tired, i'm kind of grumpy... i started 3 or 4 blogposts & decided i was such a hopelessly bad writer that i should just quit blogging altogether.  (Dramatic much?) Daddy travels a lot & i miss him & i feel sometimes that there are too many areas of my life where i'm banging my head against a wall... i'm frustrated, a little miserable and kinda defeated - and very much afraid...

But tonight... instead of this current painful place, i'm lifting my chin just a smidge.... i'm fixing my gaze just a tiny bit into the future...

Maybe we will manage to educate you all...

Maybe ephraim will someday sleep in his own bed... (little honey, honey sugar baby...)

Maybe i will learn to make myself understood...

Maybe there will be reconciliation and peace...

One day...

& maybe one day...

One day not too far away - the tide will turn on abortion too...

i hope i get to see it. 

New Year's Resolutions

1. 40 Days for Life begins at the end of February... i want to go at least 10 times during the 40 days.  Wanna join me?  Check it out HERE or follow our blog HERE. 

2.  i need to be more intentional with some areas of our homeschool... This January, i hope to build on the good habits we've already formed & beef up our homeschool day just a little. 

3.  i'm not gonna quit bugging God about that whole, "unloved" thing... i had this dream - & i was walking, making my way along in a city?  the country?  through a town?  i was walking, walking... thinking to myself, "How'm i ever gonna get there?" (wherever "there" was...) when suddenly, WHOOOSH... i was picked up by something like a great cloud... It was so mighty and thick, that my face was squished right into it, and i couldn't see where or how i was carried to wherever it was i was going...

i'm hoping that my healing is something like that dream... where God picks me up & we cover a vast distance that i never could have navigated in my own strength... He's able.

There are some nameless, faceless ideas for resolutions too... i would like to run a bit this spring, i have an idea for nanowrimo that is a possibility, the sweetness of my marriage is on my mind - i'd like to be intentional about my relationship with my husband, neil is gonna be travelling a lot this year... i want to do this part of life *well* - even when it's hard...

i love the freshness of a new year - the opportunity to glance around, wake up a little, shake off the weariness, change direction, choose better....

The picture that i am carrying into the New Year is of soil being tilled and made ready.  Hosea 10:12 says, "Sow righteousness for yourselves, reap the fruit of unfailing love, and break up your unplowed ground; for it is time to seek the LORD, until he comes and showers his righteousness on you."  i like that... 'break up your unplowed ground..'  There's gonna be work this year - & i'm ready for it.

prolife is not my passion part 2

Last week, i posted one of those posts that sits in my drafts box for a week before i gather up the courage to press "publish".  i always worry that i'll misrepresent my heart - or that i'll choose my words badly, and hurt people in the process. 
There wasn't a flood of comments, but the ones that did come in were thoughtful and thought provoking.  You can read them HERE. 
What my sister steph posted near the end was what most resonated with me - & was perhaps more "what i meant" - in the original post. 

She said:
Pro- Life isn't just about abortion. It's family planning, teen STDs, divorce, fatherlessness, poverty, IVF, custody battles over embryos that are biologically the result of more than two DNA lines, immunization cultivated in a stew of materials resulting from abortion(to try to phrase it delicately). Abortion is the defining issue of our age, and we have lost, but that doesn't mean the tide can't turn and justice can reign one day for our culture just as it did for the black slaves, or the Jews at Auschwitz. I love this quote by Elizabeth Rundle Charles:

If I profess with the loudest voice and the clearest exposition, every portion of the truth of God except precisely that little point which the world and the devil are at that moment attacking, I am not confessing Christ, however boldly I may be professing Christianity. Where the battle rages, the loyalty of the soldier is proved; and to be steady on all the battlefield besides is mere flight and disgrace to him if he flinches at that one point."

Saying that prolife is the 'defining issue of our age'? - This is a sentiment i agree with. 
& that's why i'll keep plugging away - with whatever work He puts before me - praying for courage to speak truth and taking courage from my brothers and sisters who choose to do the same.   
Yeh, it's gonna look different for each one of us - but i'm going to cheer when i see God's people praying and fasting - listening - and taking action where they are able. 

prolife is not my passion...

it's kinda horrifying. 
Painted in oil on canvas with rich, vivid colours... capturing the accepted inhumanity of the day...
The eighteenth century slave ships would throw over the dead and dying mid-voyage so they could collect the insurance for loss of "cargo".  If those shackled ones made it to shore alive, and then died - the cost would have been just. too. much.

"Prolife isn't my passion."

It needs to be... this is where the battle is for us - in this country - in this decade of this century.  Our humanity cries out for justice - and science backs up that cry...
Life - a person from the moment of conception with it's own unique DNA - someone worthy of protection. 
& there have been times in my life where i have done less - or more - for life.  There's no guilt, or condemnation - there's just the challenge, "right now... this season... today... what could you do?"  (Men, don't leave this to women.  We need you too.  Take courage, speak with gentleness and love.) 
i imagine there were many who murmured to the abolitionists, "The freedom of those slaves... it's not my passion..." or during the Holocaust, "i'm not even part Jewish..."  It's easy for us now to look back, and cry to the ones who should have spoken up against injustice, "it's so clear!"
When my grandchildren look at what our culture currently deems acceptable - and it's as revolting to them as the thought of throwing sold, half starved, abused, sick and dying human beings overboard mid-voyage is to me.... i want to tell them this loss of life broke my very heart too.
(*for those wondering, this is another jmw turner print _the slave ship_)

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