A Wedding You Won't Read about in People Magazine

These days weddings have taken on a life of their own. One only has to open a People magazine and see all the extravagance of the latest Kardashian wedding: horse-drawn carriages, private jets, lavish gowns and jewelry-all totaling over 28 million dollars! As a missionary who regularly witnesses the devastation of poverty, I can’t help but think what good a fraction of that money could have done if given to a charity or non-profit organization…but I digress. Of course, we know celebrity weddings tend to be over-the-top affairs. However, the average American wedding is quickly following suit. According to some stats, the average American wedding costs between 20 and 29 THOUSAND dollars! Um…my wedding was nowhere near that!

All of this was lodged in the back of my mind as Daren and I made our way to the Hutchinson Correctional Facility to attend a very different kind of wedding. Daren was about to officiate his first ceremony in a prison.The groom is a TUMI (The Urban Ministry Institute) student with a genuine desire to grow in his knowledge of the Lord.The bride is a Christian woman who also loves the Lord and is raising a teenaged boy. She has recently started coming to some of our church events (she lives in Hutchinson). Daren was honored do their premarital counseling. Both are excited and eager to serve the Lord together.

As we and the wedding party (a few family members and the bride) made our way into the prison (which is quite a long and complicated process of removing shoes, jewelry and getting visitors' passes- imagine going through security at the airport), I couldn't help but notice the glowing bride. Despite all the hassles and restrictions of having your wedding in a prison (no digital cameras, have to change into your gown in the bathroom) she could barely contain her excitement. She was minutes away from marrying the love of her life.

We proceeded through several gates, the prison common area and up a narrow flight of stairs to a row of classrooms. We arrived at the classroom where the ceremony would take place. There was no air conditioning and the only items in the room were a few mismatched plastic chairs, a folding table and an old wooden podium. There were no decorated pews, no beautiful candelabras or organ music. The only photographer was me and all I had was one disposable camera. Despite all this, the wedding was beautiful because it was centered on the love of two people who have dedicated themselves to God and each other. The bride was glowing and the groom was elated. During the ceremony, both bride and groom read aloud the stories of how God had drawn them together and to Himself. Many tears were shed as they recalled the broken road that led them together and ultimately to Christ.

As Daren pronounced them husband and wife, the small gathering of family let out a cheer. Both the bride and groom had looks of utter joy on their faces even though they would soon be separated. They only had 30 minutes following the ceremony before the groom had to be back in his cell.

During the ceremony, I couldn’t help but compare this simple wedding to so many others I had witnessed. While it may have lacked some of the niceties we typically take for granted (special music, candles, wedding cake), it had something so much more valuable: a wedding centered on Christ. The focus of the ceremony was so clear. It wasn’t a photo op or something that would make a cute Facebook post- it was about two people committed to one another and Jesus Christ. To me, that’s a wedding I want to read about in People magazine.

Parenting Inadequacies

On one of my many trips to our neighborhood Walmart, I witnessed a heart-wrenching and somewhat confusing scene. A father was yelling for his daughter to get out of the car. A stream of expletives flew out of his mouth as he demanded his daughter get out of the car. A little girl emerged. She was dressed in her Sunday best- a frilly white dress. She couldn't have been more than nine or ten. The look on her face was a mix of fear and utter humiliation. The father (also dressed in "church" clothes) drug her into the store. I continued to watch- I was bewildered and horrified at his behavior. It all came together when he (very loudly) forced his daughter to confess to a customer service representative that she has stolen an item from the store. The other customers, who had stopped what they were doing to watch the scene unfold, seemed to shrug their shoulders and return to their shopping. One man remarked, "She won't do that again." 

In my spirit, I wrestled with the morality of what had just happened. It seemed as if the other customers did not share my sense of outrage- that somehow, the punishment had fit the crime. As many of you know, I minister in a culture different than my own. The inner city has a different set of rules and values when it comes to disciplining children. While I don't always agree with or condone some of these values, I try not to judge too quickly or too harshly. Many of the parents we minister to love their children but because of the lack of parental role models and an understanding of the unconditional love of Christ, they are unable to discipline in a way that shows both love and firmness. 

My heart was burdened for this little girl who had to endure such harsh discipline that seemed devoid of love and compassion. My first instinct was judgement and hatred toward a father who would use such abuse to "teach his daughter a lesson." Then, I felt a burden for him. Part of me realized that he was trying to be a good parent (although the means he used were wrong and inexcusable). He was operating under the philosophy of "scaring her straight"- that by using such extreme measures she would be sure not to repeat the offense. What kind of parental role models did he have growing up? Was that the way he was disciplined as a child?

Parenting is hard. Knowing how to discipline your child with love, consistency and the appropriate amount of firmness is extremely difficult and often, emotionally exhausting. As I continued my shopping, I began to think of my own inadequacies in parenting. While I have never verbally abused my children, how many times (in the privacy of my home) have I responded in anger and lost my temper? How many times has my level of impatience and frustration overruled the need to show understanding and forgiveness? 

As parents we are charged with a daunting task: "Train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it" (Proverbs 22:6). The difficulty lies in knowing how to train up your children. Most Christians know the basics: Teach the your kids to love God and obey His Word. But how do you demand obedience from your kid without crushing their spirit? How much does their unique personality play a part in the type of discipline you administer? These are questions that have plagued me in the joyful and yet overwhelming task of parenting. How much more daunting is the task to unbelievers- especially unbelievers who have grown up amid poverty and dysfunction? How does one know how to be a loving parent if he or she was deprived of one as a child?

As an inner city missionary my passion is for every man, woman and child to know the ultimate parent: Our Abba Father- full of perfect love and no inadequacies. God can mend the brokenness and touch the scarred and wounded places of the heart. He is a father to the fatherless. Not only that, He gives each one of us the grace we need to be godly parents- despite our inadequacies.

I pray that the little girl in the white dress knows her Heavenly Father loves her dearly. I pray that her earthly father knows he is loved, too, and that knowledge can overflow onto his daughter.

A Year in Review...2013

Okay, so it's mid February and a little late for summarizing the past year, but here goes!

Family Highlights

Jackson played his first team sport- soccer at the YMCA!

Justus turned ONE!

Daren assumed a new position: Regional Director of Ministry!

Tina competed in 3 races this year!

We welcomed new niece, Evie, to our family!

Ministry Highlights

We have a new president of World Impact- Efrem Smith! (After our former president resigned after admitting to an adulterous affair- that was tough).

We had another successful Women's Retreat and Christmas ladies' craft time!

Started (and almost completed) the CTV guidebook!

Started a new church plant: CTV Antioch!

Milestones for the Boys

Jackson learns to write his name!

Justus can identify major body parts! :)

Jackson learns to ride a bike with training wheels!

Justus learned to wave "bye bye", sign "more" and can pick up his toys when asked!

Jackson recites (by memory) Robert Frost's poem, Nothing Gold Can Stay!

Most-Played Songs on my Ipod

"Thrift Shop"- Macklemore & Ryan Lewis

"Tik Tok"- Ke$ha

"Country Girl"- Luke Bryan

"Eye of the Tiger"- Survivor

"Too Close"- Alex Care

"Blurred Lines"- Robin Thicke

"Mama's Broken Heart"- Miranda Lambert

"Jessie's Girl"- Rick Springfield

Most-Watched Netflix Shows

The Office

Parks and Recreation

Dexter

Breaking Bad

Downton Abbey

The Walking Dead

Sister Wives

What Not to Wear

Thought-Provoking Books

"The Good and Beautiful God", James Bryan Smith

"How Eskimos Keep Their Babies Warm: And Other Adventures in Parenting", Mei-Ling Hopgood

"Growing Through Stress", Kath Donovan

"Same Kind of Different as Me", Ron Hall & Denver Moore

"Game of Thrones", George R. R. Martin

"Bossy Pants", Tina Fey

I Survived...

Gall bladder surgery and the recovery that followed (and the months prior when I experienced un-diagnosed pain and discomfort).

A crazy year of ministry transition and change as our president resigns.

The stress of Daren being overworked in role meant for two people not one. 

Raising 2 boys with 2 distinct and different personalities while tying to maintain a household, and serve in a variety of ministry roles!

Thankful to have endured and enjoyed another year- thanks to the lavish grace of our Lord Jesus Christ!

"You must speak my words to them..."

Last week I found out that Miss Milly passed away. This dear lady was one of our favorite persons to visit when the boys and I go on walks in our community. Even my mother-in-law would visit her when she took the boys for walks. She loved to see the Jackson and Justus. She would marvel at Justus' blue eyes and Jackson's large hands. In a firm (but loving) tone, she would ask Jackson if he was obeying me, and if he wasn't minding me during our impromptu visits, she would gently scold him. I knew she was struggling with her health, but I had no idea how serious it was. A month ago, I knocked on her door and no one answered. I continued to stop by her house in the coming weeks with the same results. I began to fear the worst.

When I found out she had passed, I was deeply grieved and disturbed. I was upset at myself for not knowing she was in the hospital. I was angry with myself for never giving her my phone number. But most of all, I was grieved that I never fully shared the gospel with her. Sure, I had asked her if I could pray for her and I did pray for her on many occasions. But I never asked her if she had a relationship with the Savior. I never clearly shared the gospel message with her. It pains me to think that she might have passed from this world without the saving knowledge of Jesus Christ.

Her death caused me to take a closer look at my presence in my neighborhood. I began to ask myself hard questions: Am I actively seeking out the lost and sharing Christ with them? Am I burdened by the reality that people in my community are living and dying without the hope that can only be found in our Lord?

I am a missionary but that does not mean I always live up to my calling. I realized I had become complacent. Not only that, but I think sometimes I refrained from sharing the gospel because I was afraid of rejection. I live in a neighborhood where there is much spiritual darkness- people who desperately need Christ but whose hearts have become hardened by misery, bitterness and doubt.

I recently read Ezekiel 2. This chapter both convicted and inspired me.

In this passage, God is instructing Ezekiel to proclaim His message to the rebellious Israelites- a people whose hearts were hard and unsubmissive.

"And you, son of man, do not be afraid of them or their words. Do not be afraid though briers and thorns are all around you and you live among scorpions. Do not be afraid of what they say or terrified by them...You must speak my words to them, whether they listen or fail to listen.." (Ezekiel 2:6,7).

Whether people listen to me or not- whether they accept the message of salvation or reject it does not change my mission. God has called me to preach to good news to those living in the inner city. He has called me to be faithful. One commentary said this about Ezekiel: "He was called to faithfulness of the task, not to success as the world conceived it...faithfulness is the primary requisite of service, not apparent accomplishment."

May I forever be faithful to the mission God has called me to.

Heaven's Gates Opened Wide

Last week, a dear friend of our family passed away. Although his health had been declining, Marlon's passing was sudden. I had been planning to visit him the following week (he lived a few hours away), but never got the chance. I left a somewhat tearful message on his phone a few days prior. Somehow, I knew I would never get to visit with him one last time.

Marlon grew up in Watts, California. Like many young people in our ministry, he came from a broken family. As a youth, he became involved with our ministry. As a young adult, he moved to Kansas to be a part of our training program at Morning Star Ranch. After graduating from the program, he made his home in Wichita. Marlon came to visit our family often. He had a tough exterior but he always had a soft spot for us kids. He was a deep thinker and often felt burdened by questions of a spiritual nature. He would spend a lot of time discussing (and at times, arguing) these things. But there was no doubt that he had saving knowledge of Christ.

Sadly, Marlon had no connection with his biological family. His only family was our World Impact family.

Several years ago, his health took a turn for the worse when he began to experience paralysis due to complications from spinal meningitis. My dad found him an excellent nursing home in Kansas City that would care for him. My mom and dad and fellow missionary Al Ewert were faithful in visiting Marlon and administrating aspects of his finances and medical care. Us kids would visit him when we got the chance and he was always very glad to see us.

A week ago, my mom was in Kansas City with a friend when Marlon's health went downhill. In God's sovereignty, He orchestrated it so she could be there to stand by his bed and hold his hand as he labored to breathe. He was experiencing congestive heart failure and would have attacks where he could hardly breathe. These attacks were very scary for him and so it was a blessing to know that my mom could be there to pray for him and speak words of love and encouragement.

He made it a few more days before passing peacefully in his sleep. My prayer for Marlon during those days was that he would not be scared or fearful about dying but that he would be comforted knowing his Maker would be welcoming him with open arms.

This whole experience has caused me to wonder in awe at the hope we have in Christ- that this life is not the end! Heavens gates are open wide to those who believe! Heaven's gates are open to the Marlons of this world- to those whose lives have been riddled with pain and tragedy. We minister to many  whose lives resemble our dear brother Marlon. They struggle with physical limitations, emotional baggage from shattered childhoods and pain and disappointment from broken relationships. They need loving Christians to walk alongside them and guide them in the truth. I have a renewed passion to spread this hope to those in my community.

"Death has been swallowed up in victory. 'Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?' The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory though our Lord Jesus Christ" (1 Corinthians 15:54-57).

Battle Stories

Last week, Daren and I took a short getaway to Tulsa (exciting, I know) to use up a quickly expiring living social voucher. During our time away, the Lord brought us into contact with a couple of people that had an impact on us. The first, was an former army soldier who was a part of the road crew. He came to our rescue when my dear husband overestimated his ability to get us to the next gas station while almost on empty. He graciously drove us to a gas station so we could get gas and then returned us to our vehicle.

Our second acquaintance was also a veteran- he served our country in the Vietnam war. We met him while hanging out by the pool. We got into a conversation and he tells us that he is in town for his daughter's funeral. She died unexpectedly two weeks prior. He proceeds to express how his faith in God has been challenged more than any other time in his life.

One thing he says sticks in my mind: "You know, being a Christian is a lot harder than being a soldier."

A few days later I am still mulling this over. The scripture that keeps coming to mind is Ephesians 6:12: "For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places."

The spiritual battles we face can be tougher and more daunting than any earthly battle. I am reminded of this truth as I walk through our neighborhood. There is so much spiritual darkness in our community. There are strongholds of addiction, depression, abuse, violence and fear. It is a battle. At times, I struggle to feel equipped to fight against the powers of Satan in our community. And then I remember that the Lord will fight the battle for me. All I need to do is be a faithful soldier. For me, that means praying on a regular basis for the people in my community. I take the boys on walks through our neighborhood and we pray. Along the way, we stop and visit with folks sitting on their porches.

Last week, we visited with Roy. Roy is an older gentleman who has lived in our community since 1965. He and his 16 siblings moved from Mississippi to Kansas in the early sixties. Roy’s house is the center for much activity in the neighborhood. He has weekly barbecues with many of his friends and family members. Our prayer is that we will get to know Roy and his family better so we can minister God’s love to them.

We also visited Miss Milly. Miss Milly loves to be visited by Jackson and Justus. She used to be a maid and took care of children in her younger years. She doesn’t leave her house often, so our visits are a highlight to her. I am reminded that Christ has called us to minister to the “least of these.” To those who have no one else- to those who desperately need Christ’s love and salvation.

I know these don't exactly sound like battle stories- there is nothing glamorous and awe-inspiring. But the battle to win the lost for Christ doesn't always involve brandishing shining swords or heroic acts. Sometimes, fighting the battle is being a loving and caring presence in a dark and hurting neighborhood.

Despite the fact that there will be times we feel we are losing the battle, we can rest assured on this truth: Christ has won the war! Christus Victor!

Women with "True Grit"

"Mommy, you have no bumps on your arms."

"What do you mean, bumps?"

"Daddy has big bumps on his arms."

"Oh, you mean muscles."

"Yes. You don’t have any muscles."

While it’s true that my arms cannot compare to my husband's (or to that of First Lady Michelle Obama), I am not completely without “bumps” as my three year old would claim. I have birthed two hefty boys and have carried them up and down stairs, lifted them in and out of car seats and have paced back in forth with them in my arms during the long watches of the night. I do, indeed, have muscles (in addition to back and shoulder problems).

Yet, my true strength as a woman does not come from my muscle definition alone. I come for a long line of strong women who defy the notion that woman is the weaker sex. My grandma on my dad’s side was a farmer’s wife and mother to six children (four of those boys). A sweet woman full of love and compassion, one might not see the strength in this soft-spoken woman. She survived breast cancer as a younger woman, reared six children, and made several trips to the emergency room with sons with broken ribs, collar bones, poisoning from insecticide, a lacerated hand, and more. Farming isn’t for the faint of heart. When her youngest wandered into the pen with steers, she boldly ran in, getting kicked in the head, so she could rescue her little boy. She passed away two years ago and I still miss her sweet smile. I will always remember that she carried herself with strength, grace and dignity.

My own mother has raised four children in the mission field of the inner city. She managed to take care of all of us as well as lead a dynamic ministry among women in the city. I've watched her hold her own in dangerous neighborhoods where people questioned her right to be there spreading the Word of God. She never let fear deter her from what God called her to do. 

Whenever I feel overwhelmed and I think, “Life is too hard. I just don’t have the strength to do what needs to be done”, I remember the women who came before me. The hardy pioneer women who gave birth in leaky wagons on the Oregon Trail, the intrepid women who stepped up during WWII and did a “man’s job” working in aircraft and munitions factories, and the uncompromising women who fought for equality so I can vote. And then I think of the women whose faces I know well- my own mother and grandmothers. And I think, if they were strong, I can be strong.

"I have enjoyed riches and suffered the pangs of poverty. I have seen U.S. Grant when he was little known. I have baked bread for General Fremont and talked to Kit Carson. I have run from bear and killed most all other kinds of smaller game."

~ Nancy Kelsey, pioneer and mother of 11 children, 1841 (America's Women, Gail Collins, 209).