Monthly Archives: March 2015

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See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God. 1 John 3:1

Yesterday afternoon I stood in my dirty kitchen with leftover fried eggs and sausage on a platter in front of me. I remembered an invitation I'd gotten the night before to go to the movies with a couple of gals. I'd turned it down earlier in the afternoon knowing I should go. Rylie's music class project, coffee cans turned tom-tom drums were complete besides the red and blue paint job that could dry on its own. Most of my reasons for not going had been crossed off the list. I stood before a left-out carton of strawberries when Michelle texted to make sure I couldn't go. Impulsively I asked her to pick me up. The kitchen would wait.

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We caught the last night of a three day viewing of a documentary called The Drop Box. As I found seats, I adjusted my fountain drink in its holder and began to assemble the nachos in my lap; happy with my jalapeños. I was ready to be filled; anxious to be entertained. Minutes in, my eyes fixed themselves on necessary English subtitles. The movie introduces Lee, a pastor from South Korea who built a box into a wall with his laundry room on one side and the outside on the other. The box is a place of rescue for the growing number of abandoned babies in South Korea.

I've shared the YouTube trailer on my Facebook page.

I laughed at the familiar way Pastor Lee and his wife Chun-ha teased one another as they share the story of their beginning together. I made a note to look up several of the songs in the film. The music was beautiful. As one would expect, the film was full of babies and sweet little ones playing in their cramped living space. But entertained isn't the word I'd choose to describe the experience. I was filled; not by purchased movie snacks, but with awe at this Christ follower.

Early in the film I felt my heart had been hijacked. I was forced to face the cold reality of not only what happens to babies in South Korea but around the world.

Writing about the babies is hard. Many of those abandoned are handicapped; some severely. These babies are given up because they prove to be too heavy a burden both financially and emotionally. Most of Pastor Lee's babies have physical deformities. Were we to see them in public, we might find ourselves looking away, not sure how to react, not wanting to stare.

But in this film you're forced to watch them; to know they exist. And through the eyes of Pastor Lee and his wife you learn not to pity them. You see each one for the blessing he is.

In true gracious fashion, Pastor Lee shares his love even for the women who give their babies up. He reads heart-wrenching letters of girls who are desperate and in great sorrow regarding their decision.

You watch Lee's 26 year old biological son, Eun-man, struggle to smile or blink his eyes as he is confined to bed for the third decade due to his cerebral palsy. At the beginning of the film you watch as Lee handles a tube that is inserted in his son's neck. A raw image, you wonder why they had to show that part. By the end of the film you wish you could jump onscreen and plant a kiss on the son, Eun-man's forehead. Eun-man's life is beautiful. Strangely that's made visible as you witness his pain.

His daddy, Pastor Lee became known for his undying love in the hospital where Eun-man resided for fourteen years. Having lost their home due to mounting medical bills, Lee and his family lived in a waiting room at the hospital. He was known there as the father with an unrelenting love for the "boy on his back". Not only was his love for Eun-man his son apparent, but Lee preached and sang songs to all he encountered. It was at the hospital that Lee was first asked to adopt an ailing child. He agreed.

Since that time Lee and his wife have saved the lives of more than 500 babies. They have raised over three dozen of them. Lee is in poor health being sleep deprived and having diabetes. He and his wife carry a heavy burden. This story is nowhere near a happy ending.

But it's a story of hope.

It's a story that begs to be heard; not because any of us can fix this ill. This story belongs to each of us. It's finds us where we are and calls us to rise up. What can we do?

We can pray. Each of us can commit to pray for Pastor Lee and "his family". We can pray for his health. We can pray for his ministry; that he receives support. We can pray that those who God is calling to come alongside him would answer that call.

We can pray that more resources would eventually be provided to mamas who feel the only option they have is to abandon their baby. We can pray that the message of Jesus gets out through these testimonies God has written.

We can give to Pastor Lee's ministry. Check out the website. thedropboxfilm.com

You can get involved locally. Buckners and other organizations are looking for volunteers. Fostering and adopting is an option. Find a local family in need of encouragement. Maybe you know of a family that fosters children who would be uplifted by a meal or a night out. If you know of a family struggling with the demands of caring for a child with disabilities, offer your support.

The film ended with a short testimony from the director of the film. Brian Ivie set about to use his talents to make the film that would attract attention. In brutal honesty he shares that his goal was to make a name for himself. But that's the thing about Jesus. His is the name above all names.

And there is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved." Acts 4:12

In Ivie's experience he came to realize what he and these adopted children have in common; something you and I have in common too. We are all in need of a holy father. We have a father who loves us unceasingly even when we are able to fully understand that love. He takes our filth and brokenness unto himself. He clothes us and makes us his own.

God decided in advance to adopt us into his own family by bringing us to himself through Jesus Christ. This is what he wanted to do, and it gave him great pleasure. Ephesians 1:5

If we could wake up every day living in light of that kind of love, we'd set the world on fire.

What are we waiting for?

The Drop Box has a Facebook page check it out. If you have any questions about this film or you'd like this film to be made a into a DVD let the powers that be know. Here's their email address.

filmquestions@fotf.org

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I walked out the front door this morning and wanted to stop in my tracks. I was suddenly inclined to cease my doing and my going and maybe even my being, right there on my sidewalk. I wanted to stretch my arms out to the left and the right like that Timothy Green kid, soaking up the sun that peeks today between gray dots of clouds in the sky.

I need the sun.

It's times like now when I've hardly seen it's warm face that I miss it so. I find myself wishing to be a bird or bear so I could migrate or hibernate and just avoid the cold.

winter

The lack of sun in January and February has depressed my mood. The forecast of more winter has my soul groaning. I know, "You'll be whining in the July heat ," you say. I won't. Well, maybe I'll complain a little by midsummer. My upper lip will be beaded with what I've come to call a SETX sweat-stache. That will be after days and days of sun and heat. That will be when the sun has come out of hiding and it's face becomes so familiar that I forget to appreciate its warm rays.

There might be the one thing that makes winter bearable. The gray and the cold makes the uncloudy days seem brilliant; the rain, the sun so fine.

Maybe I need winter too.

If sun is the reality of all things bright and beautiful, then surely the dark days are where hope is made.

Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul-and sings the tunes without the words-and never stops at all. -Emily Dickinson

Tomorrow I've been told the cold will come back to pay a visit. It's chill will attempt to invade not only the uncovered parts of my skin, but my soul. But I'll be that bird. Not flown away to a warmer land, but singing a hope tune.

And today, when the sun is to be found, I'll be a glow stick positioning myself to take in all the light and warmth I know how. I'll carry the sun within me into the cold of tomorrow. I'll be wrapped in warm feathers; thoughts of sunny days past and bright days to come.

I'll remember that the sun, wouldn't be fully known as the sun without the clouds.

And I'll be thankful for the sun

and for the clouds and cold too.

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To bring up a child in the way he should go-travel that way yourself. -Josh Billings

I probably shouldn't be writing about this on a Monday morning. The kids just left for school and there's a shower curtain and rod in a big jumbled mess on the bathroom floor that nobody knew was there. The girls were shrieking in frustration this morning indicating that the brother who has felt too bad to antagonize them is returning to good health and good pranks. Someone's eyeglasses are lost again. Their last known whereabouts is Hico (in Central Texas) at the visitation for Jason's grandmother who passed away last week. We have a picture to confirm this lasting sighting of the glasses. So. The lost eyeglasses are somewhere within a three-hundred and fifty mile radius. Since we usually have a great deal of difficulty finding them when they're lost in the house, this should be fun.

kids1

I've been thinking a few days about a phrase we hear every now and then.

"You have good kids."

I've had a few people say this to me through the years.  The opposite has been thought as well, but we know most people won't say your kids are bad until they know you're out of earshot.

When I've been told my kids are good, my response is varied.

  1.  I say something like "You should have seen them this morning"  countering the compliment with information that they're typical children with typical behavior that's not always good.
  2. Very rarely, do I say thank you. Here are the reasons.

Saying thank you feels like I'm taking credit for such goodness.  I am in a constant state of awareness of how difficult parenting can be.  I know I make mistakes.  And I make mistakes that I don't even know I make. It's a tough gig. Not to say that parenting is without reward and joy; parenting is full of both. But, this parenting path is one I walk blindly on; depending completely on God's grace to see me and my children through. Neither my parent's path or my neighbor's is just like mine.

Hearing from someone that my kids "are good" feels like too flat a description.  It doesn't quite describe their complicated nature which is at times opposed to good. My kids do good things like the one who spent her own money at the bookfair to buy an overpriced cat poster for her sister when I know she would very much like the cat poster for herself.  Or like the brother who rescued a lost dog this past weekend and then found the owners returning the dog to them.  I'm reminded of a time or two the dishwasher was unloaded without my asking.  These kindnesses are counterbalanced with episodes of fighting over things like the DS game charger and chores left undone. My kids do good things.  They misbehave too.

Saying thank you scares me frankly. In my own experience, the moment I brag on my kids, they go and ruin it.  I remark how nice they're being to each other only to hear them fight over feeding the dogs.  I listen to one of them tell the life story of Winston Churchill and swell with pride over their depth of knowledge only to check their grades online hours later to find a zero and a two terrible test grades.  Saying, even thinking that my children are doing good seems to have a jinxing effect.  How much more, if I accept a compliment suggesting that they're GOOD kids.

As parents, I think we all appreciate that person who takes notice of our family.  We're thankful for a kind word saying that we, or our kids, or both are doing a good job.  We're likewise thankful for people who encourage even though "good" is not how they see our kids present behavior (or our attempt to manage it). Our world is made brighter by kind words with encouraging intentions.

We also know as parents, that there are inevitably times that our parenting is questioned.  Our kids cop an attitude in public or act like hooligans in a restaurant.  Maybe they forget what we taught them about responding to an adult with maam and sir. We can be sure that our kid's name may go home with another kid, mentioned in a story that's anything but good.  Maybe our kid will act bullyish at one time or another, even if they have the kindest of hearts.  They'll probably be rude, deal with jealousy and say things that aren't true. Beyond bad behavior, even the hardest praying, most loving parents may find themselves and their children in a dark season where trouble seems to never leave. Regardless of our kids' behavior, misbehavior, or the severity thereof; all parents find themselves in the same boat.

We believe we are doing the best we know how.

There are times we are proud, and times we are dog-tired and our efforts seem fruitless.

We have room to improve and room to rely on God more than we already are.

We want people to love our children without regard to their behavior.

More worth mentioning than any of these things is the truth that we have a God who is good, loves our children unconditionally and a God whose behavior doesn't change.

We have a Father who promises:

His grace is sufficient for the parent who feels they're not getting it right and whose children aren't following their instructions.

But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness. 2 Corinthians 12:9

He will guide us and He will guide our children.

I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you with my loving eye on you. Psalm 32:8

We ought to be diligent to pray for each other as parents.  Let's pray for each other's children, keeping at the front of our mind that righteousness is only found in God. Pray that our encouragement to others would be rooted in truth and love.

Kids are a precious gift, wrapped in mystery, given by a good Father who leads us all along.

Email your thoughts, your wisdom or a request for prayer.

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