You Have Been Warned

Consider this your warning. If you ask me how my trip is it will most likely include the following things. Tears, photos, videos, stories (and a LOT of them) laughs and most likely a desperate plea to sponsor one of the many beautiful children in San Pedro Sula so they may attend school. Also please understand I recognize to fit in the social norms the answer to this question should only take 1-2 minutes but honestly prepare for hours, it will definitely take hours. I am in LOVE with Honduras.

There. Consider yourself warned.

That being said I am sure there will be many Honduran blog posts as I am only beginning to process through the wide myriad of emotions and experiences that happened in those ten days. But there was this ONE experience I simply must share.

When we arrived in Honduras I was simply ill prepared for the welcome we would receive there. Our church (not me personally) has supported a little school in San Pedro Sula for years and the people there are so grateful. SO GRATEFUL. When we walked through the doors of the school on our first day in Honduras there was an incredible crowd of people who cheered, loved and welcomed us with open arms (quite literally). They sat us at a head table.

It was raised up with a tent over us. We were given the best seats (again quite literally) in the house. Families, children, moms, dads, grandmas, grandpas, aunts uncles, friends all came up to greet us there. They took photos with us. I did not even know them and they wanted my photo with their loved one. Within minutes they delivered cold drinks which included the most delicious Coca-Colas. The tents were strung with lights it was literally one of the most beautiful sights I had laid my eyes on. (I am such a sucker for twinkle lights) We were then delivered HUGE plates of food. More food than I could eat in the ten days I would be there. It was all traditional Honduran food prepared especially for their “American brothers and sisters in Christ”. We sat and shared food and friendship which included drinks from a coconut. (by the way in my opinion coconut milk is way overrated and really not milk at all) It wasn’t long and the program began. The most talented amazing artists enthralled us with their traditional dances, poetry readings and even the most impressive mime I have ever seen which also starred Tim from our group and you can definitely say we saw a side of Tim none of us ever knew existed. Friends it was so beautiful and so amazing.

 So why was my heart feeling so broken? Why did I have this huge lump in my throat that prevented me from talking or even swallowing.

I saw all that was prepared before me and all I kept thinking was how unworthy I was. Why this big to do? I did not deserve this banquet set before me. Tears stream down my face even now as I recall the moment. What had I done? I flew on an airplane, which for the most part even my trip had been paid for by other hard working people. I did not deserve any of this.

 I am such a visual person. And I think this is such a cool thing about God. He knows us each so personally that He knows how to reveal Himself to each of us. He knows our triggers and how to get through to us. (even those of us who are harder to reach than others)

For many, many years I have known that “God loves me.” I know it. I teach it. I sit with little preschoolers once a month and I point to them and use their name and say “God loves Miles. God loves Greta. God loves _______.” I know this. In my head.

As I stared down at my plate of food not sure I could stand all this for one more second and God whispered to me “I love you like this Lisa.” Yes God I know. You love me. “No Lisa. Just like this. I wait for your arrival, I cheer you on. I welcome you with open arms. I seat you at my table. You are my precious child and I give you the best. Your hard work did not earn you a place at this table, all your good things fill me with joy but that is not why you are here. Your mistakes and failures they can’t remove your VIP status either, you did not earn your ticket Lisa, instead my son paid your cost. You are here simply because I love you.”

People the tears just started to flow and pretty much continued for the rest of the trip. I am loved not because I am perfect or because I have logged hours in a pew. Nope, simply because I am His child. My mind cannot even begin to understand this but the image of the Hondurans pure unadulterated unmerited love for me will never leave me.

Friends, God loves you. Seriously He loves you. He has prepared a table for you. He awaits your arrival with open arms. He will hug and kiss you. The food he has set for you will never run out. You have done nothing to deserve it nor nothing to remove you from it. As a parent waits for their child, He waits for you. All because He loves you.

To My Pre-Autism Self:

Recently I had to bring my son in to have his testing done again. (testing for autism) As he and I sat chatting in the waiting room I noticed a mom in the waiting room with a very young son. She was filling out piles and piles of papers and had notebooks which I am sure were full of questions. She hardly looked up when we walked in she was so focused. Her son though he noticed us, staring at us he yelled “Mom, I don’t like those people and I don’t want them to look at me.”  He definitely said it loud enough for us to hear. I knew in a moment he was having similar testing done too. She had a look of determination on her face and a hint of fear in her eyes. I knew that look all too well. Sitting there I remembered like yesterday what it was like to sit in that chair, filling out evaluations, over-analyzing each question and reviewing my own list of questions and demands. I wanted so badly to hug her tight and tell her what I knew. But that would have been awkward and weird, even for me. It did however make me think about what I would tell my pre-autism self. There are so many things I wish someone would have told me. Below is just a few of the things that would have been helpful to know.

Dear Pre-Autism Self,

I know right now life feels out of control and hard to understand. So…

Take a deep breath. Do this often. Pray. A lot.

Feel what you feel. Feel relief if you are relieved. If you need to laugh, laugh. Do not for a minute feel guilty for feeling what you feel. It is okay to feel angry, to feel frustrated, to feel betrayed. Let tears fall as they may. If you feel as though you have experienced a loss give yourself permission to grieve. Just do not live there too long. For if you do you will miss so much joy and beauty. You will never find out how strong you are and how good God is. There are so many gifts in the journey, you don’t want to overlook them.

Do not be afraid of the label. Do not let the word autism hold you or your son back. Do not let it put limits on or define him. In the same sense do not be afraid to talk about it with him. He will adapt to your definition of autism. (He hasn’t seen Rain Man) If you act like autism is limiting and tragic he will believe he is incomplete and a mistake. If you teach him he is loved and has purpose, he will believe you.

Do not fear autism. Right now you think it is a life sentence but it is not. It will make things hard at times and honestly there will be moments you did not know your heart could hurt so much but in those same moments you will experience joy in the pain, strength in the adversity. You will advocate, you will educate, you will negotiate.  You will be wrong. You will make mistakes. You will try things and they won’t work but don’t let it stop you. Keep trying because one day it will work. And on that day, it will all me worth it.

Rely on your support system. Be real and let others help when you need it. That is not a sign of weakness but of strength. People are going to have a lot of opinions. I mean A. LOT. Listen. Remember most often people mean well. For those who don’t? Ignore them. Avoid the haters and cling to those who love you. You will meet so many amazing people who are on a similar journey as you, EMBRACE them. They will become your army, your family, your people.

You are not his parent on accident. It was planned. You were picked for him. He for you. Despite this you will feel ill equipped. Do not let that get you down. There will be times when you are not enough but there will never be a time when you and God are not enough. He will give you just what you need when you need it.

Love deeply. Live Fully. Enjoy the moment (even the hard ones). Hold on it is going to be an amazing ride!

You can do this!

Lisa

P.S. Your son is pretty much a rock star. He is caring and kind, full of compassion and a great sense of humor. And when a little kid makes it clear he does not want anyone to look at him in the doctor’s office, Ben will purposefully find a seat on the other side of the room and quietly whisper “Don’t take it personally mom he is probably just having a bad day.”

 

Divorce in the Church?????

“The rate of those divorced inside the church is the same as outside.” Tell me…Is this such a bad thing?

 Now before you stop reading and defriend me, go with me for a just a second will you? A couple years ago this statistic caused a lot of upheaval in the church. Since the church should look different from the world… right??? Here is the trouble with that thought at least from my perspective.  **

If 50% of the population divorced and we are reaching out to our world do you suppose our congregations might consist of those who are divorced? If they don’t might we be missing something? Do we create an atmosphere where the broken find healing? Where grace and mercy is abundantly distributed?

Shouldn’t the church be a place for the broken and hurting? When Jesus was asked why he chose to hang out with “sinners” he quickly answered them  “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.” (Luke 5:31) The question might be who is a sinner?

I am divorced. I am also a Christian woman who loves Jesus all the way to my toes. I have often felt the sting of judgment and shame, certain I must be wearing a shiny letter D to identify myself. My friend (who is also divorced) and I recently were comparing how many times we have been told by those inside the church “God hates divorce.” I won since I have been divorced longer, more people have had the opportunity to educate me. Can I just tell you? I know. I know He hates divorce. I do too. Divorce hurts. It a tool of Satan to rip apart families and inflict pain on all those involved. Not only the immediate parties either but extended families and beyond.  Yes God hates divorce. He hates to see His children hurting and broken.  So no I do not want to see one more family torn apart by divorce.

But… it happens. Even Godly, Christian men and women get divorced. People who love Jesus get divorced for a whole slew of reasons. Some God has identified as justified and others not so much. I will not even attempt to touch the topic of justified and unjustified reasons for divorce.  I am here to simply say we are hurting.  We understand God hates divorce. We know we have made mistakes and trust me we have experienced regret. For many of our dreams have been broken and our hopes shattered.

So… Wouldn’t church be a good place for us?

Please hear me. This is about so much more than divorce.

If 15% of the population struggles with alcoholism I do hope our churches reflect this number. I pray alcoholics and drug addicts find solace in Jesus. If 0.5% of our women turn to prostitution I pray they find unconditional love in the arms of our Father.  If 50% of the men and women in our church are divorced I pray they find grace and forgiveness on the inside of our church walls.

I have to be honest here- churches that are clean, pretty and full of perfect people scare me. I much prefer a church that consists of messy and broken people who practice honesty, unconditional love and make it a habit to display forgiveness and mercy to one another.

Let us encourage each other, turn and heal from our mistakes, be better people. Hold one another accountable and love each other. Let us not focus on where we have been but instead where we are going. Then when others see us they will see something different from the world. Something more. Something better.

Romans 5:8 but God shows His love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

** Yes I get that we do not want people in the church getting divorced. Hopefully church can be a place of healing for families.

My Most Powerful Parenting Lesson Yet May Have Just Come From "I Love Lucy"

I never know what to get my mom for Christmas or birthday or any gift giving holiday. She has everything she needs and when you ask her what she wants you never get a straight answer. The typical sappy "You are gift enough honey" is the usual reply. This last Christmas I became acutely aware that life in our house had been crazy chaos. Yes, even more crazy chaos than usual. As a result I had not been able to spend much quality time with my mom. Considering this I decided to give her play tickets to see "I Love Lucy" on stage. The benefit was two-fold. My mom has always loved "Lucy" and for me I would get some much needed time with mom.

Us making complete fools of ourselves

Our seats were not the best. Honestly we sat in the last possible row of seats but my mom reassured me that she had her contacts in so it was "all good." As we sat laughing and enjoying a great theater production this feeling started to well up inside of me. I was taken back to 35 years ago when my brothers would leave for school in the morning and mom and I would lay on the couch and laugh till our bellies hurt as Lucy would stomp grapes and stuff her face with chocolates. Ricky would yell "Lucy" and I would try to mimic his exotic accent. These are some of the best times of my entire life. We would snuggle and cuddle and in those moments I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt I was loved.

I started thinking about the fact that some of my most meaningful moments consisted of my mom and I laying on a couch watching a thirty minute sitcom. I consider all the things my mom did for me over the years. She volunteered at my school, she sat on the soccer board (which if you knew my mom you would know how hilarious that is), she brought me and my friends places, she took me swimming and shopping. We have many wonderful memories together but some of the best took place on the couch with Lucy.

As I stared out into the dark theater my eyes filled with tears. I constantly feel so much pressure to be the best mom. Not better than another, just the best mom for my kids. I volunteer but then feel guilt when another field trip arises and I am not able to attend. I plan parties and purchase tickets to the next best thing the trouble is there is always the next best thing. I often feel that I am letting them down when I am not able to live up to my own expectations. And then it occurs to me...

Could my most meaningful mom moments be snuggling with Grace watching Love It or List It? Could I be making a bigger impact when I stop with my over-committing and stop and watch The Bachelor with my 17 year old? (no judgement please) Or just maybe even sitting with Ben while he explains to me for zillionth time how Yu Gi Oh is played?

Could I have complicated this whole motherhood thing?

Please Lord in my busyness and attempts to be the "best mom" please don't let me miss it. Do not let me spend another moment comparing Pinterest parties or committing to things that will only result in more frazzled stress. Slow me down, remind me to rest and see what you have placed right smack dab in front of me. 

Thank you Lucy and thank you Mom. I love you.

7 Ways Youth Group Saved My Life

The church has been under quite a bit of fire lately. In a culture that has sadly come to pair church with judgment, hypocrisy, lies, greed and abuse I thought it would be especially timely to explain how it is that a youth group (well the whole church really) saved my life. I was an angry teen with the weight of the whole world on my shoulders. I was on the hunt for revenge against my father, against my teachers, against the whole world really. That is until a bunch of imperfect people crazy in love with Jesus stepped in and saved my life.
7 Ways Youth Group Saved My LIFE!

Just one of the many.....

7) These people were REAL! Teenagers can see right through phoniness. These people never tried to pretend to be something they were not. The never once acted like they had all the answers. They made mistakes and apologized, they got sad and happy, found joy and knew how to genuinely love one another. They never tried to be something they were not to gain my friendship instead they were real and honest. (mostly honest, see below for the one disclaimer)

6) They looked for the best in me. Encouraged me, built me up, supported me. I (as most teenagers) suffered from poor self esteem and wanted desperately to be liked/valued. I remember when I was first asked to help with VBS (Vacation Bible School) to help with the children. They trusted me, they saw something in me and built that up. They would point out my strengths and remind me of my talents. I was even asked to play my saxophone. People please listen I was TERRIBLE. I never made it out of last chair. Yet there they would have me in the front as "special music." It was special alright. And afterwords I promise every member of the church would come up and tell me how beautiful it was and how much they enjoyed it. Okay so maybe they were not always honest.

5) They paid for me. Yep they did. They paid for camp, retreats and even employed me to clean bathrooms to help me pay for mission trips. Many gave sacrificially even when I was too young and selfish to understand that kind of giving. They gave meaning to "Put your money where your mouth is." They did not just speak it but they did it.

4) They did life with me. One mom of young children would invite me over since I lived close. She would feed her kids, do laundry, watch Sesame Street and LISTEN. She would listen to my ideas, to my thoughts. She NEVER made me feel like I was a bother. She told me her door was always open and it WAS! Other families would invite me over for movie nights and pancake breakfast. No it was not flashy and hip (yes I know using the word hip is not hip anymore) it was however meaningful and made a difference it my life.

3) They did not judge me. (but did hold me accountable) Often I said words that were not appropriate church words. (I was a rebellious 14 year old give me a break) I lied. I broke things.I laughed hysterically in the middle of a prayer when my Clearly Canadian (remember those?) blew up all over me and my best friend.  I once painted my initials with those of a boy I liked on the side of the church building. Yes. I did. Are you understanding the saints these people were? I am positive I would not have liked me. I am positive it would have taken a miracle from God for me to have the kind of patience these amazing people had with me. But they did it. They found ways of letting me know that did not like my behavior but they loved me anyway. I did have to clean the side of the church but last time I was there if you squinted a little you could still make out the pale white letters. I eventually learned appropriate language. I also learned there was no need to lie when people loved you just as you were.
2) Did not let age stop them. The grandmas and grandpas were role models to me. The moms and dads supported me. The single, the married, the honeymooners they all spent time with me. One of the older ladies in the church (whom I love, love, love) did the special programs in church and she always included me and made sure I could participate. She would tell me after everything I did (sing, play the saxophone, read verses) "Lisa you were just lovely." I smile today as I hear her sweet words replaying in my head. A simple statement I was so desperate to hear. I was lovely.

1) They never ever gave up on me. If you were sitting next to me you as I type this you would see the tears rolling down my face. They never quit on me. I was sassy and bratty. They had every right in the world to say "I have had enough. She is not my problem." But they didn't. When I was most un-loveable they put their arm around my and pulled me closer. I guess if I imagine Jesus in a youth group it is exactly what I see him doing. Loving the un-loveable.

It was not flashy or attention getting. I do not think any of those people received an award or trophy for what they did. (though I am pretty sure when they get to Heaven they will have earned quite a few gems in their crowns) Most of the time I am guessing it was not pretty but instead incredibly messy and dirty. It is not quick or easy instead in was an investment. And now I have children of my own and often they are messy, sassy and oh boy have I earned a few gems of my own. Our kids have their own group of wonderfully imperfect people who love Jesus all the way to their toes. People who love them, forgive them, do life with them, support them. I am grateful and thankful for all who invest in the lives of teenagers. For those of you who do....
Thank you. Thank you with all my heart. Keep doing what you are doing. Keep it up even when you think all hope is lost. You are changing lives. And even more that that? You (with God's graciousness) are saving lives, people. You are saving LIVES!

Our kids cheerleaders!

Faith's "graduation"

Celebrating Ben's Birthday!