When Parenting and the Police Collide

Proverbs 19:18 says, "Discipline your son, for in that there is hope; do not be a willing party to his death."

My mom read this verse to me the other day as we were sitting on the deck of our condo while vacationing in Colorado. I had just finished battling it out with Jackson after he decided to throw a tantrum over something ridiculous. My morning coffee was now cold and my patience was dangerously thin. I felt exhausted. No amount of parenting books can prepare you for what it takes to raise a strong-willed child.

I was somewhat encouraged knowing that the battles we fight now will hopefully shape Jackson into a young man who has an obedient heart.

However, our battles for the day were not over- not by a long-shot. Later on, we all decided to take a hike along Boreas Pass. The beginning of the trail wasn't too steep, so we let Jackson walk.  At a certain point the trail began to get rockier and we decided he needed to ride in our backpack carrier. Well, Jackson did not want to get in the carrier.  He continued kicking and screaming the entire time we wedged his body into the pack. Thinking he would eventually calm down, we kept him in there. But he kept on yelling and lunging side to side. At this point, Daren and I decide the hike was over for us. We took Jackson out and told everyone else to go on. This made Jackson throw an even bigger fit. He wanted to continue on with everyone else, but we told him that was not an option. We knew it was important for him to realize the consequence of his actions.

As we headed down the trail, Daren had to carry the screaming and writhing Jackson. After an intense five minutes of this drama, Jackson finally calmed down. He apologized and we managed to make it back in relative peace.

Thirty minutes later, we all loaded up and pulled out of the parking lot. At that moment, we see four police vehicles pull up, one of them was an SUV with a trailer containing 4-wheelers. We all wondered what had happened and if someone on the trail was in danger. Daren, Jackson and I were riding with my parents. The rest of our group was in the vehicle behind us. We slowed down when we noticed the police stop their car. All of a sudden two police officers approach our car. They ask my dad, "Is there a Daren and Tina in there?"  I roll down my window and identify myself and Daren. At this point, I am feeling anxious. What could they possibly want with us? He asks us for our identification and asks us if Jackson is our son. He says they received a call from a lady on the trail who reported hearing a child screaming, "Let me go! Help me!" The lady was very shaken up and thought the child might be in danger. The officer asked me if Jackson had been screaming on the trail and if he had said those things. My heart rate accelerated and my mouth went dry. I explained the whole incident on the trail as best as I could saying that he wanted Daren to let him go, but we didn't trust him to walk along the trail until he had calmed down. We didn't want him to injure himself. The officer asked if this was normal behavior for him. I replied, "He's two- he has tantrums! Most 2 year-olds do!" I was beginning to panic. Did they suspect us of child abuse? A sudden bolt of fear shot through me as I pictured them taking my son from me. When the officer asked me if Jackson got the scratch on his knee from the hike, I was on the verge of telling them I wouldn't answer any more questions until my lawyer was present.

Then they explained that the lady who called thought that a child was being kidnapped- that was the reason they were questioning us.  I assured them that Jackson was my son! The fact that they were just trying to make sure a child hadn't been kidnapped relaxed me a little, but they still wouldn't let us go. I had to tell my story again and we had to wait for a senior office to clear us to leave. I was still very tense and on the verge of tears. After what seemed like an eternity, they let us go. They were quite jovial at this point- joking with Jackson and telling us to have a good vacation. Well, this was definitely not the high point of our vacation!

Later on that evening, we could all laugh about it, but I was still a little shaken up. My child actually threw a tantrum so loud someone thought he was being abducted! I wondered if there was something we could have done differently. How could we have avoided this?

As parents, we are hardest on ourselves. We constantly compare our children or our parenting styles to other parents. We wonder if we are "doing it right" or if we are damaging our children for life. All I know is that Lord commands us to discipline our children in love. We love Jackson and know that the battles we fight now are shaping his character. Though sometimes it still feels like all our efforts are for naught, we are beginning to see the fruits of our labor.

Funny thing, James Dobson never mentions a scenario like this in any of his books. Maybe 15 years from now,  Daren and I will write a book...mostly full of stories how we didn't quite know what we were doing but made it through anyhow. :)

My Personal Mt. Everest

Sometimes I think I make ministry more complicated than it has to be. Don't get me wrong, planting churches in the inner city is hard and often frustrating work. In fact, it might be the most difficult task I'v ever encountered (with the exception of rearing a child, of course!).
But at times, I make it more complicated because I make it about me. I worry about how I am going to reach all these lost and hurting people. I get overwhelmed by the enormity of it all and this mission begins to seem like Mt. Everest- an insurmountable peak looming in the distance, filled with jagged rocks and hidden crevasses. And dare I mention, the path to the summit is lined with bodies?? (Daren has been watching Everest documentaries lately-interesting but somewhat disturbing).
Then, I stop myself and remember this: I am not responsible for the salvation of my neighbors. I am not the one who will birth a church in my community. The Lord will do these things in His timing- not mine. My responsibility is to be obedient to what He calls me to do. Right now, He is calling me to be faithful and wait on him. For someone who is a doer to the core, this is a discipline that is definitely stretching me. Unless I am actively "doing" something in my neighborhood, I feel like a bad missionary (whatever that means).
But lately, the "doing" has looked different. Currently, Daren and I are between church plants. We are waiting on the Lord's timing for our next church planting assignment. In the mean time, I am up to my elbows in other ministry projects. Because of that, my time in the community has decreased some and I have been feeling guilty. Once again, I felt that I should be doing something meaningful. Then I realized I already was. Three-four mornings a week, Jackson and I take a walk through our neighborhood. During those walks, I pray. I say prayers for those living in our community. Some I know by name, some I don't. I pray that the Lord will break down strongholds of addictions and abuse. I pray for His miraculous love and His all-encompassing light to penetrate the darkness. Jackson and I wave and say "hello" to those we meet. He is quite popular with most the neighbors and kids. :) I am also available for the many kids who stop by our house to hang out or play in the backyard.
I know these simple things do not seem like much, but there is a season for everything. Right now, I am in a season of simply showing love to those God brings along my path and praying fervently for my community.  The Lord, not me, will bring change and hope to this neighborhood. He will establish His church- I am just a willing vessel to be used for His purposes. My responsibility is to let Him guide me up this humanly insurmountable mountain- placing one foot in front of the other- knowing that with Christ all things are possible.

Living in Community

As Daren, Jackson and I sat in our basement last Saturday night wondering if the tornado would come our way, a flood of questions suddenly gripped me: What about our neighbors? Did they have basements? Did they know they could come to our home? Had I told them that? Here we are, missionaries to this inner-city community, and I felt like I somehow missed a huge witnessing opportunity. Sure, I knew that our closest neighbors and community friends had basements, but what about the others I didn't know as well? I still had a responsibility to reach out to them. That's what it means to live in community with one another.

Daren and I have lived in this neighborhood for almost six years. During that time, we have come to know many individuals and families and our lives have truly been blessed by their friendships. But it's easy for me to become complacent and even lazy. I put off visiting people because I'm too busy, because taking care of a two and a half year old drains my energy, because I'm consumed with other ministry responsibilities...the list goes on. After our tornado scare, I realized I need to do better at connecting with those in my community.

After supper on Monday, we took a stroll around our neighborhood. First, we stopped by Carl's house. Daren has gotten to know Carl over the years and is currently working with him on our community garden. While chatting with him outside his home, we learned that he has served in the national guard and was even a personal body guard for one of Kansas's former governors. Carl also has a love for gardening and for animals. I dub him the "Urban Dr. Dolittle" because he is known to feed ducks that wander into his yard- they even knock on his door with their beaks! Jackson loves to go visit him and he and Carl always share a fist bump before departing. Jackson's life will be made all the fuller for knowing individuals like Carl- just as mine was when I was a missionary kid.

Next, we visited a family we have know for years. The girls have been in my Bible clubs and will stop by and visit me after school sometimes. It had been awhile since they dropped by, so it was good to re-connect with them. This family has a little girl Jackson's age. We have pictures of them both as babies laying side-by-side. The high point of this particular visit was watching them both swing on a colorful hammock in their yard. Later that week, the girls came over to hang out and eat waffles with us for dinner (Yes, when I don't feel like cooking, I make a super healthy meal like waffles and bacon!) My hope is that these two will be able to become friends and enjoy living a block a part. Some of my earliest friendships were with kids from the neighborhoods my parents ministered in. I look forward to Jackson being shaped and molded into a person who comes to love people from all different cultures and backgrounds.

Living in community with one another is sometimes tough. It requires time and effort and sometimes it requires you to sacrifice your to-do lists and even your standards of hygiene (while talking with Carl, Jackson manages to find and play with a cigarette butt as well as dig up other "curious items" in the dirt). But the rewards far outweigh any of the hardships! My life and ministry is fuller and more complete because of these wonderfully unique and diverse people.

A New Type of Woman Warrior

Maybe some of your remember the TV show Xena Warrior Princess.  Each episode centered on Xena's adventures and her ability to defeat any nemesis with her fit, muscular body which was always clad in a leather mini skirt.  I'm sure many young girls looked up to this heroine. I, on the other hand, was always mystified at how she could execute her martial arts moves in her leather attire. Fashion does not always equal practicality, but I digress...

At our Regional Women's Retreat a couple weeks ago, I discovered a different kind of woman warrior.  Women who live and work in our inner cities. Women who serve their families and their churches despite personal and economic difficulties.  During our retreat I had the privilege of getting to know some of these women and hearing their stories.

Sandy is battling an untreatable form of cancer.  She bears physical scars from her illness and struggles with extreme fatigue from her chemo pills.  But Sandy remains optimistic, even joyful.  She is a part of a Bible study one of our former church plants is doing in a low income trailer park. Sandy eagerly talks about the upcoming arrival of another grandchild. She is friendly and outgoing- always looking for ways to serve. After our craft time, Sandy worked to clean up supplies, scraps of paper and even swept the floor-all without being asked.  It's hard for me to imagine having such a positive attitude if I had to deal with her reality.  I feel almost ashamed when I think about the "burdens" I complain about.

Gloria is a grandmother trying to become a foster parent to her two grandsons.  Her husband left her years ago.  Her grown children are struggling. She is trying to create a loving and stable environment for her grandsons.  She proudly shows me their pictures.  I look at their grinning faces and thank God they have a grandmother like Gloria to take care of them.  During our testimony time, she shares that one of her grandsons has ADHD and the other suffers from re-attachment disorder.  She is trying her best to take classes and become more educated on how to best care for them.  She tearfully shares that this weekend has given her the strength she needs to get through this difficult time.  I am relatively young and, at times, child-rearing can leave me utterly exhausted. I have so much respect for the many grandmas in the inner city who have not only raised their own children, but are now raising their grandchildren.

Linda is a wife, mother, grandmother, and works almost full-time at a local grocery store.  She also serves on her church's leadership team.  I have had the honor of knowing and becoming friends with Linda. Her generous spirit never ceases to astound me.  Despite her difficult financial situation, she always helps those in need.  She constantly helps out her adult children, who continue to struggle to make ends meet.  She is always willing to give a word or encouragement to her customers at the store or her neighbors. She is known to take care of the elderly living in her community.  The other day, she asked the pastor if she could have a box of food from our pantry.  Times were hard and her last paycheck barely covered the rent.  That same afternoon she spoke to a nearby neighbor. This young woman had a house full of children and not enough food stamps to provide a meal for her family.  Linda went straight to her car and pulled out the box of food she had received.  Without a second thought, she gave the box to her neighbor.  This is what Christ meant when He said, "Love your neighbor as yourself."  I ask myself, "Would I have done that?"  I marvel at her generosity and realize I have much to learn from her.

These women may not be warriors in the traditional sense. They don't stand out in a crowd.  You won't see their heroic deeds in a newspaper or TV interview.  But like any good warrior, they stand strong in spite of overwhelming opposition.  The walk boldly in the grace and power of our Lord.  These are the women I admire. These are true warrior princesses.

Working with Teens...Never a Dull Moment

It's been a few years since I've worked with teenagers. Memories include everything from the heart-warming to the heart-wrenching. Watching my kids struggle in horribly dysfunctional homes in the midst of being made fun of at school to watching them commit themselves to Christ and succeed beyond all odds. I've broken up fights, traveled cross-country in a van with teenage boys with body odor, hugged away tears, clapped and cheered at high school graduations, laughed as I watched someone say "chubby bunny" with a mouthful of marshmallows, but my greatest joy was discipling young girls who would become women who follow the Lord and serve in His Church.

Now, I am again privileged to work with young people. Each Thursday I help with a homework and Bible club for highschoolers.  Last Thursday was my first day. I began by picking up a young woman ("Alisha") I have known since she was in middle school. She comes from a large family that struggles to make ends meet. I walk into her home - a small, dimly-lit house that barely seems big enough to house the eleven individuals who live there. I talk to the mom while Alisha gets ready. She tells me Alisha is pregnant. She sighs when she says this. Her face betrays the hopelessness and  despair of the situation. Her daughter is fifteen.

When we get in the car, I talk with Alisha about her pregnancy. She tells me she is confused about what to do. There has been talk of abortion and adoption. Alisha is adamant that she does not want to kill her baby. I struggle with how to encourage this girl. I tell her we will pray about it and ask the Lord to help her.

Ironically, our babies are due around the same time. I can't help but think about the two lives yet to be born. By God's grace, my baby will be born to two parents who love each other and the Lord and who are equipped to provide for him or her. Alisha has none of these resources. What will happen to her little one? All I know is that God is sovereign and He loves her baby just as much as He loves mine.

At our next stop, I pick up two Hispanic boys. I know their parents through our ministry. They invite me inside and we talk while the boys get ready. Their warmth and hospitality reminds me how much I love working among Latino people. I hope to get to know them more as the club progresses.

After we arrive, each teen is partnered with a volunteer who helps them with their homework. I help one teen with his French- a little difficult since I know no French!

During the lesson time, I am reminded why I love working with teens. They eagerly engage in the lesson and pepper the teacher (one of our missionaries) with questions. Some are on topic, others are not. We are studying the creation story. We talk about how God created each person uniquely and with a purpose. We look at Psalm 139. We read verses 13 and 14: "For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made..." During this discussion, one of the boys asks if abortion is a sin. I look at Alisha. She thinks about this and then replies that abortion is wrong because killing is a sin.  I can't help thinking about her baby- knowing that the circumstances involving her pregnancy were not God's perfect will, but that the little baby has a purpose and is uniquely gifted for that purpose.

As I ponder this, one of the boys asks, "Is it a sin to date older women?" We all laugh- this question was  definitely NOT on topic! But as he was serious, the teacher gave him a biblical answer.  Even amidst the humor, I am glad that these teens are asking questions and seeking biblical answers. Some questions are more serious than others, but there is an obvious quest for knowledge. My hope and prayer is that I can help these youth as theymake their way through these formative (and sometimes difficult) years.

Practice Hospitality

One of my favorite Scripture passages is found in Romans 12:9-13. In a few short verses, it sums up how we should live. The last verse is simple and to the point: "Practice hospitality."  As a missionary, this is kind of part of my job description. I am called to open my home to others. And while I do enjoy doing this, there are times when I just don't feel like it. Yesterday was one of those times.
One of the women I have been ministering to and who also has become a friend, asked if she could stop by. I was right in the middle of making dinner and it had been a LONG day and I was tired. But I politely invited her over for dinner. She mentioned her nephew would be coming along, too. Mentally, I prepared myself for a long evening. However, despite my misgivings, the evening turned out well. Jackson and her nephew hit it off great. As I watched them play, I was thankful that Jackson had the opportunity to play with a little boy from a different background, just like I did when I was little. As a young child, my closest friends were usually the children of the parents my parents ministered to. Those experiences helped shape who I am today.  It is neat to see how the Lord will use similar experiences in Jackson's life.
And as my friend and her nephew prepared to leave, Jackson gave the little boy a big bear hug.
When we step out in obedience (even when we don't feel like it), we reap the rewards.

How Did I Get Here?

Anyone who knows me, knows that I am terrible at directions- both at giving them and receiving them!  There have been times, when hopelessly lost, I have pulled over and thought, "Where the heck am I?" (Although to be completely honest, I wasn't saying "heck"- yes, I admit I may let a few bad words slip once in awhile under extreme duress).
Likewise, there have been times in my life when I ask myself, "How did I get here?" As an missionary kid raised in the inner city, I had no intentions of following in my parents' footsteps. I had my eyes set on a much more glamorous career: journalist. I would start in print journalism and work my up to television journalism, eventually becoming the next Barbara Walters. Yes, I was a little delusional. But funny thing, God had completely different plans for me. When bemoaning missionary life as a kid and declaring that I would never become a missionary, my mom would smile and say, "Just wait until you meet a handsome missionary one day and he changes your mind!" Well, most of you know the story. I, indeed, did meet a handsome missionary who I married and we now live and work in the inner-city of Wichita with our two-year old son, Jackson.
In retrospect, I know exactly how I got here. The Lord was preparing me form an early age for a life of ministry. Being a part of my parents' ministry allowed me to learn about other cultures and people from different backgrounds. I enjoyed making friends from different ethnic groups. I also developed a heart for hurting people.  No matter what I did, I couldn't escape this calling. Even in college when I was working, taking a full load, and serving on student government, I still made time to volunteer with an inner-city youth group. It was in my blood.
Another thing I never thought I would do is study a foreign language while living in the foreign country! Daren and I had the opportunity to learn Spanish in Costa Rica for three months. Talk about a learning experience! But even during the hard times when I'd ask myself, "How did I get here?" The Lord would remind me that he had been preparing me for this. My time in LA as a kid introduced me to the Latino culture and gave me a love for the people and culture which helped make the adjustment easier.
I imagine that ten years from now, I will be asking the same question. But I take comfort in knowing that the Lord is preparing for whatever the future holds.