our journey in a minute... give or take 30 seconds... - BLOG

Conflicting Scenes

Thu, 31 Mar 2016 11:31:50 GMT

In the weekend our family made a trip into the city center. We met a friend from the States and decided to enjoy the spring weather for a walk. We wanted to see the memorials that have collected as well. After enjoying a walk in the sunshine, fresh, warm waffles and hugging our friend, we made our way to the square with the memorials. You may have seen Ty's pictures on Facebook. It was quite an experience of emotion and processing and awe. Gathering together with people from all over, the mood was quiet and reflective, and it was really almost holy.

People gathered around the candles and flowers in the middle of the square. Some held a single rose to add to the collection. Others prayed before candles. One little boy was lighting as many candles as he could right in front of him, while the wind kept blowing them out. He kept at the task with ferver, and it was quite a symbol of keeping hope alive. There are banners and flags from many languages and countries hanging from the columns and the statues and down the stairs. They all expressed messages of hope and solidarity and anger at the hate and fear that brought about the memorial in the first place. Chalk writing is everywhere on the steps and the sides of the building and sidewalks. Messages of love, hope, and even frustration at the system which fear and terror are bred into. It is really quite something to take in. Then there were people all over the steps. Many were sitting down just reflecting, taking in the scene in the sunshine. One man, near the side, was playing guitar and singing. People were nodding along and at one point spontaneously began clapping along. It is such a unique experience to grieve and process together with a group of strangers united by common emotions.

All wasn't nice and serene though. In stark contrast to the private, internal nature of the memorial, news vans packed the square. Pop-up tents, lights, microphones and cameras were everywhere. Anchors from major American stations to smaller global networks were all around. In order to get to sections of the candles and flowers we had to thread through cords and cables, news anchors and tents. It was hard not to feel imposed on by the reporting happening in the midst of such private emotion. Feelings of frustration gave way to anger as I watched the crowd enjoying the music. Suddenly a camerawoman and her assistant with a huge microphone rushed through the throngs of people on the steps to capture the guitar player and crowd participation. They stepped over and through the seas of people, pushing through without any care for the moment except the sell of the story. It was a harsh contrast to the pensive attitude of the crowd assembled. As we made our way back to the car we walked along the side of the square and all the emotion was swirling inside. How dare broadcasters keep selling pain and grief when there was no other "news" developing. Who invited them into the private solidarity that has sprung up as a symbol of hope after terror? How dare they invade such a sacred space? The photo above captured the contrast perfectly as my emotions collided.

I know the world has been at our back yard this last week. I understand, I too have been glued to the news, waiting for each and every piece of the story. In fact, I am as much at fault for the imposition of the news into that space as the big business that employs each station. That was a bit of a sobering reality to me. It has made me re-consider how and what I want to consume for news. It has made me set aside the phone and quit perusing every last update. It has made me stop looking at all the images, I purposely did not look into images of the weekend attacks for this reason. I understand telling the story is important. I have some very dear friends who are journalists. There is a huge difference in telling the story at the expense of human dignity though. That is what I see more and more. That is what I want to stop participating in. We have to stop consuming the sensationalism and fear that is being flaunted in our faces. Only then will the agencies change their approach. Of course, I know I cannot change the industry. But today, it matters enough to me that I will change my behavior. And when enough individuals change their behavior, culture changes. That is how I choose to let love win today. It is something I can do.

Selfless Support

Mon, 28 Mar 2016 15:34:24 GMT

With all the headlines from our neighborhood the last week, we've been having a roller coaster of emotions. Conversations and considerations with children, our families back in the States, and friends/colleagues here have been beyond what we'd ever imagined when we moved to Western Europe! After one particularly sobering discussion with family, Ty and I were talking and processing a bit. In the seriousness of it all, we had an amazing revelation.

At no time the last few years have our families tried to talk us out of our life here. Never! In support raising, no one asked if Ty was sure about not providing securely for our family-in fact there were words of affirmation and pledges to be some of our ongoing financial donors. In moving overseas and choosing immersion for the kids into foreign schools, there was never questioning us if we were sure we weren't scarring them (or ourselves) for life. In fact, family stayed up late in their time zones to text us encouragements in our mornings for weeks as we wrestled through the emotions of actually living out immersion here. As targets got closer and closer and closer to home as terrorists continue to spread hate and fear, despite friends and relatives asking them when enough was enough, they have never once suggested maybe we should return to "safety." Even last week, amidst such emotions-there were no references to their own fears and worries (that I'm sure must exist). They encouraged us, prayed for us, were available at any hour to talk and let us talk and just listen. Yesterday in their Easter celebrations they stood up and presented how to pray for us to their communities, not acknowledging their own questions-perhaps even unvoiced. The closest perhaps to giving words to their fears was in a conversation talking logistics if crisis were to hit our family. Even then, the words were not fear-laden but rather realistic to the world we live in, and reassurance that they would be on the next flight over to whatever city they could get to and find a way to be here if the need arose.

As Ty and I sat talking late in the night, we marveled at what a gift our families are to us. To have parents and siblings and grandparents who love the Lord, who pray for us and encourage us and trust God with us...We have many friends and co-laborers who have little to no home support. We thank God for putting us right where we are, right at this time. The reality of that is also thankful hearts for the families he placed us into! Today, thank God with us for our incredible families and if you're close to any of them-maybe give them an extra hug or shoulder for support! I'm sure they can use it, even though they won't say it to us. So thanks moms and dads and our siblings-we love you and are so thankful for you all!!!!!

God Sightings in Surgery

Thu, 17 Mar 2016 14:36:23 GMT

First let me just say how relieved I am that surgery is over! I was surprised to wake up in recovery crying and explaining in Dutch that I was so relieved it was over and could I please have some kleenex. That was just one moment that made me smile about the whole thing. One big worry had been recovery, with a severe morphine allergy and a tendency to wake very slowly and groggily from anesthesia, I was concerned how recovery would go and if I could communicate my pain levels ok being so out of it. Not only did everyone speak English during my stay, I awoke speaking in Dutch just fine, and wasn't groggy in the least as I came out of anesthesia very well. Pain was minimal in the hospital and when it was a problem due to some of their standard procedures, I was listened to and they responded well. The surgeon met with me before the surgery (unusual here) to tell me that he had reviewed the case and all my scans. While the plan had been to do a laparoscopic investigation to look at the tumor and then decide the best approach at removal, he felt confident he couldn't tell by looking if it was benign. That made him want to skip the scope and just do the full incision so I only had one wound instead of both procedures to recover from. Our whole plan became about removing the tumor in one piece and in a way that ensured nothing was left to re-grow in case it is not benign. After surgery he came and said that while it was an ovarian tumor, it looked very regular and they were able to get it out very cleanly and easily. I am confident this specialist they brought in was the best option for the surgery and I was so thankful for how much information he shared-again, not very usual in this culture.

Another fun God-moment was with the anesthesia. Due to my morphine allergy I was really hoping to communicate well with the anesthesia team as they are the ones who take me to recovery and make sure pain is managed after surgery. I also was worried I would feel a bit of panic at going to sleep. Well, the team came into the operating room where about 8 others were prepping the room already. The intern mentioned I was English speaking and the dr. said "no problem, I lived in England for 6 years and the US for 6 months." I asked where in the US and he said Lake Tahoe. That is very near where I was born and a family favorite! Then he asked where I lived now in Belgium and when I told him our village he said that's where he grew up and his da was the pharmacist here for 30 years! The other anesthesiologist also explained other drug options since I can't do morphine and I knew they had a good handle on it all. Needless to say, there was no worry at all as I went to sleep thinking about Lake Tahoe with my aunt and sister last summer!

I am also convinced of the timing of the surgery in a great new friend-my roommate! When we compared stories and shared life the days after surgery, it was clear to us both that something bigger than ourselves was orchestrating this all! I am sure God put us both there at that time. Even with Ty gone, my friend who came and spent the first day and all day of the surgery there was part of it. She lives in the community and perhaps has some common acquaintances in the music scene. Since she was there so much she also befriended my roommate and when we are all recovered we plan to go to a concert all together. She was such a blessing to me as she spoke perfect English and helped in the night hours when I had pain and the nurses were not quite so good with English. We also laughed together a lot and it was so nice to know I wasn't there alone, I think she felt the same!

Since returning home I have to move very slowly. Recovery is like a C-section minus the baby. Friends and teachers from school have generously picked up the kids before and after school. Friends from work and church have brought meals and groceries for us. Others are coming to help clean the house. Even the timing of a cousin coming to visit is perfect as it's when Ty has some work commitments and I needed company and a helping hand.

We hope to have a clear pathology report early next week. In the process though, we have continued to walk with God who is faithful and we trust him and he has provided so graciously every step. We know he will continue to do so!

Thoughts on worldview and My kids' education

Tue, 23 Feb 2016 20:43:30 GMT

I have spent a lot of time thinking about how much our worldview and values are intertwined with our educational systems this year. As we begin to research and visit secondary schools for our son I am confronted with this and must think about it. It is fascinating to me to live in a western context where so much is the same as our home culture, and yet have so much be so different! Trying to choose a good path for our son with educational choices is balanced with the desire to see other values and thought processes developed. However, that may not be possible in this setting, in this system. It's a funny thing, worldview. It shapes how we think and how we perceive the world. It shapes how we understand and how we engage with information. Some days I don't feel any differences and then other days it's a huge gap between my own experience and that which I see around me.

I find myself trying to imagine how J will think as he grows up. I want him to understand critical thinking and individualistic goals from our passport culture. I also love how he is learning to consider the whole above the individual here. Those things don't exactly all fit together nice and neat. It's a bit like direct/indirect culture which we see clash in our home. Ty and I are direct-we come from an upbringing and culture that values direct communication. We have learned to approach God this way as well. We read scripture such as where we are told to approach God with confidence for he is a loving father who delights in giving his children good gifts. So we teach this to our children. And yet, our kids are learning through their culture here in school, how to approach and ask for things much less directly. I struggle to know how to best parent. Direct isn't right and indirect isn't wrong. However, I do not know how to confidently approach God indirectly. So at home, we continue to shape our kids' thinking with teaching them the value of being direct sometimes in situations. We don't know how to disciple them in this area other than our own experiences. We can learn from them however. It is fascinating to watch indirect approaches play out and we study and observe and try to understand their viewpoint. We try to teach and lead and guide without assigning value or worth to the differences in culture.

Back to thinking about how J will think from his education I find myself wondering if we should keep him in this system the whole time. If we stay here through his school years, there is so much benefit to him going through this local system. He will be trilingual if he works hard to use the various local languages. He will have a huge headstart to his peers back home in math and sciences. It is a great system here. We are thankful that he can attend free public school and know it is a good education. Sometimes though I am sad for what it isn't. He will not learn how to write a good story. He won't read the great literary works I grew up loving (unless I keep reading with them at home!) He won't have the amazing Literature teachers I had that are still some of my favorite teachers ever, and the ones with the longest impact on my life. He won't have the innate drive to the American dream and the unspoken promise of "if you try hard enough you can do/be anything." However, he probably will value family and relationships above money and possessions. Hopefully he will love a pace of life that has a rhythm to is, one which slows at certain paces and really rests. He will know what true vacation is from summer holidays where life changes from work to rest and relationship.

Just when I think things get easier, in terms of understanding more and more of the culture we have chosen as home, things also get harder. Deeper things come up to be wrestled with. Often, only being put back on the shelf because they are not easily categorized into where they should be placed otherwise. They will come out and grapple from time to time. Each time, I understand myself a little more and see the world a little more clearly. And yet, each time, I also am changed a little bit more from who I was raised to be, into a new mix of all experiences mashing up into who I am becoming.

What a ride this is! What an adventure and still I have no idea what we are doing in this whole parenting thing and if it will all turn out ok or not. That pushes me back into the arms of the One who I know is the perfect Father. And once again I am so thankful to know Him, and to know He is also there for our kids!

Bone Tired? Nope-Brain Tired!

Sun, 07 Feb 2016 15:16:03 GMT

I am still surprised just how tired I am here. All. the. time.
I keep thinking it will get less so, and moments of great joy and laughter with friends make me forget it, but there it lingers, in the background always ready to pounce. Thinking in another language is hard work! It's not just the other words and grammar structure though...

It's thinking in another form of communication, different social cues and nonverbal communication.
It's thinking in a completely different system that is sometimes so far from my own upbringing.
It's constantly observing, taking note, copying and trying to imprint for future reference.
It's learning to be present but also always a little on alert to make sure I really am understanding and don't get too off track and make a big mistake.

And that's just for me. Then there's helping our team understand and walk through this. There's doing it as a family. There's the various levels of relationship that take different kinds of navigating. And while most days I wouldn't trade life over here for another option, I am seeing that it is ok to be tired and take down time for me. It's funny how I used to be 99% extrovert. The more people in our lives and the more brain tired I am, I think that's down to 65% or so. I still love people, but now actually have the need to be still and be alone sometimes to re-energize.

And it's good. I'm learning to put boundaries in place-both on myself and with others. I'm learning to prioritize what is really important to me and to the Kingdom. I am also learning to be still with myself and God and just listen. That's been one of the best things from all this! I also am seeking to raise others up so I will not be always in this same position-to pass on to others and let others take things farther, that should be our goal always.

But for today, I think I will go take a little rest and not feel guilty in the slightest! Of course, that's before we have friends coming over for lasagna...I couldn't spend too much time alone, now could I?!

Dedicating our precious ones

Sun, 29 Nov 2015 13:06:48 GMT

When our oldest was a little over a year old I had a very interesting conversation with a friend. We were talking about dedicating our kids in church. We come from the tradition where parents do this, publicly committing to raising our kids in our faith and with the help of our faith community. My friend's daughter was some months old and she was explaining how she finally felt ready to dedicate her. I remember feeling it quite a solemn moment but I wasn't sure I had never been ready. I asked her to explain herself. She told how it was really a struggle for control and that she wasn't ready to dedicate her little girl until she knew she could fully give her back to the Lord. It was more than just committing to raise her to know the love of Jesus, for my friend, it was acknowledging that her daughter was the Lord's and she was just privileged to be the one raising her. I thought about this for some weeks, searching my own heart to see if I had fully released my son or not. After a time, I really did give him to the Lord in my heart-come what may in his life. When our daughter was born, I felt the seriousness of it all again but this time it was easier. Over the years there have been moments of recommitment. Sometimes they are by choice, and other times circumstances have hit that make me wrestle with the choice again. Each time I find such peace when I trust my kids to God though. When our daughter had her big fall and we didn't know if she was rushing to brain surgery or what the outcome would be, I had peace knowing I had put her in God's hands and I couldn't do anything more. Thinking of moving our kids overseas with all the issues that can cause for them, Ty and I wrestled again with how much we are to shelter and protect them (or even how much we can) and how much we were to lay them in God's hands and trust him for their best-even when it was hard for us to watch.

This past week I have again wrestled hard with this letting go. As we live in a major European city that has been at the centre of international headlines, you can imagine life has looked a bit unusual the past 2 weeks. This last week in particular we played a waiting game. As public events were canceled and officials were seeking to make things as safe as possible, we found ourselves with a couple unexpected days off school. It was a bit emotionally exhausting, all the waiting and trying to normalize life for the kids while being so unsure of what was really happening and what was to come. However, I found myself at a breaking point late one night when we knew schools were re-opened the next day for the morning. I crumpled as I realized how out of control I was of ensuring their well-being both physically and emotionally. I wanted to freeze time while they were safely and peacefully asleep in their beds. I didn't want the uncertainty of the morning to come. It was a little funny as I look back. I wasn't afraid of attacks or even death for the kids or our family. I was afraid for their hearts with all the weight of knowledge and emotions this whole situation brings for them. Not knowing how the safety situation would look I worried it would cause some anxiety in them. Hearing reports of bomb threats and other schools evacuated the previous day, and knowing how on edge the country is made me unsure what sort of situation might arise in their school. What if they had to evacuate and my daughter was afraid? What if something happened and we couldn't get to them in a timely manner and they were afraid something had happened to us? What will their friends talk about? How will this affect their sleep at night? The reality is, Even if I kept the kids at home with us, bad things can happen. Sweet friends have just celebrated the homecoming from their grandson's 100+ day hospital visit with an infection that caused swelling in the brain. That came out of nowhere. They couldn't have sheltered him, or their family from it all by avoiding living. In the same way, I can't be sure of how things will go. I cannot fully protect these little ones' hearts, even though at times I'm almost desperate to do so. Once again, I was faced with choosing to trust God with our kids, even though it might mean something bad does happen.

And so they went to school the next morning. And so we continue to have conversations around the dinner table that I never dreamed possible when we moved to western europe. We continue to wrestle with hard questions alongside our kids, pointing them not to simple easy answers, for there aren't any to these kinds of questions. Instead, we point them to the truth of who God says He is. We play our "no fear" playlist of worship songs often and loudly. We speak God's Words of love and no fear over them and over each other. We reassure that we too have moments of fear of another attack. We demonstrate compassion to our friends of other faiths who are suffering much more than us in this and we listen to our children wonder at a world where this must be the case.

The truth is: we are not safe. Pain and suffering and death are very real in this life. The truth is also this: That God loved this hurting and broken world so much that He gave up his only son to take the punishment for all of the hurt and pain we all cause so that we could know God's love in our lives. With this truth we know we have a future with God for ever and ever in a new world without pain and without suffering that is so evident today. That is the only way I slept this week. That is the only way I took my children to school and left them there in the midst of world events. What hope that gives, what peace! This is why we've dedicated the kids and continue to do so, to God's care and his plan for all of eternity!

Wed, Sep 16, 2015

Wed, 16 Sep 2015 20:53:35 GMT

There's something about being a parent that is gut wrenching. I can't believe the intensity of emotions that come with this relationship-far more than I imagined! Some days it's the suck-in-your breath awe-filled wonder that those little people who you've transplanted into a foreign land where they've already had to learn 1 new language are willingly conversing in their 2nd new language as they study for a test. Other days it is the anger in your gut at the unfairness of a system that no matter how hard he tries, just won't accept your boy-the same boy who lives and breathes soccer but just can't get a break with the local team. It's the roller coaster of a heart swollen in admiration at the perseverance to finish a very hard season and actually be willing to try again, the joy of laughing and practicing together in the back yard and the despair at watching your tween drop his shoulders as he holds back tears and says it's fine. Some nights I lay awake desperately hoping for a way forward to avoid this little man's love for the game from extinguishing. Amazement at her curiosity, delight in her humor, sometimes overshadowed by the pain of her fierce emotions exploding all over. Or worse still, held deep within where confusion is all I feel as I watch her struggle to understand her own self. These little people are absolutely amazing. They drive me to pray so much more than I would otherwise. They help me see my own self in a new and deeper way. They pull me out of worry into the here and now. They love so deeply-I'm only 1 of the recipients of their love and it's such a joy to watch with others too. Today, as we are settled into our 3rd new start to the school year here overseas, I'm having to lay them in God's hands once again. They are loving school and I rejoice at that! I want to protect from the many other struggles of growing up-some made more obvious from our unique situation in a different culture. I can't be it all or do it all for them though. Honestly, they give me so much too. It's a good start to the year. It's a hard start to soccer. We will see how French turns out. Today we have danced, laughed, and sat silently together when words couldn't fix the hurt. That's about an average day. As I just tucked in the girl after she got up not feeling well, I'm in awe again at these precious gifts. What an awesome role we have been given. Tonight, I'm thanking God for the kids and also that he's right in this with me!

Imposters Galore

Wed, 20 May 2015 20:36:25 GMT

The other day I read a blog post about being an imposter. Today as I checked out at the local grocery store I totally felt it. I have confidence as I shop now, am familiar with strange ingredients and things that look almost-but-not-quite what I'm looking for. I ask other shoppers questions when I notice something they found that I haven't seen before. I overhear conversations and understand them. I know about bringing my own shopping bags or using empty boxes from the store and I have the timing down to a science when to go so it's not too busy. Then I get to the checkout. I listen to the clerk's conversations with other customers. I understand them. I have my own conversations and responses in my head. When it's my turn I return the greeting with confidence. Then as I put my items into my bag/box I freeze and am silent. As I choke out "bancontact" to pay I feel invisible and publicly exposed all at the same time. I smile and return the farewell as the clerk finishes the transaction and I walk out feeling disappointed in myself that this same scenario happened yet again. It certainly makes me feel like an imposter. What am doing pretending here? The feeling of not belonging comes at the weirdest times (like my grocery store situation-which sadly is quite frequent). This has made me think a lot about belonging, and identity. It makes me critically think through the difference between acting as though I belong in order to learn to belong, or acting as though I belong to hide that I don't belong. Is one really worse than the other? Are there moments that call for those situations? In a world-and frankly, as part of a generation-that values authenticity so highly, I struggle with this one. There's a difference I think, between living as an imposter in order to fool others, and living as an imposter because I am something from somewhere else living incarnational in a place that really isn't my home. Jesus did this. He wasn't trying to sneak past humanity, hiding his God-ness, just to pull a fast one on them. However, he wasn't completely one of us, he didn't completely belong. I mean, he was fully one of us (while still being God...try to wrap your head around that one!) but he didn't belong to humanity. He didn't belong to the fallen world he was constrained by. I feel the lack of belonging so acutely in a foreign culture. But honestly, it's living as a human created in God's image yet living in a world that's not-as-it-was intended that makes me feel the most out of place. I guess this discomfort is a good sign-a sign I do belong indeed to another kingdom. I'll be honest though, it doesn't make suffering any easier here. It doesn't feel any better to experience loss and disappointment. Pain and injustice are not made less crushing because its not what was supposed to be.

The only thing that makes me hope, makes me sit up a bit straighter and not let the enemy whisper "imposter" into my thinking as I mess up yet again, is the reality that one day I will indeed belong. All will be as it was intended. I will be fully at home (and it won't be in the States or Belgium!). I will be at peace with who I am created to be and who I am and where I am. Thank God for his enormous grace which gives me the identity of his daughter and a joint heir of his kingdom. Thank God it doesn't matter how often I feel differently about myself or make mistakes or stupidly hurt others, he still loves me and it doesn't change who I am. Thank God that he created us with humor and that I can laugh at moments like at the checkout when the reality of how much I don't "fit" in this world is right in my face! Thank God that he loves me through the questioning of how this other kingdom reality plays out in this world that isn't quite as intended. As I quit looking at the disparity in my own being, may I look upon the one who perfected living in a world where he truly was an outsider but not an imposter. May my life reflect that kind of entering into and being with those around me. And hopefully, as I carry his light inside, bits of it will shine out around to those who see me and they will see me for who and what I really am. And then, they will see Him for who He really is.

Reflections on Being An Outsider

Wed, 25 Mar 2015 21:19:46 GMT

My heart has been tender the past couple months. It is hard to put all the feelings into words, and sometimes I don't even realize how big and messy all the feelings are until I have a moment of different feelings. This happened recently on a Saturday morning.

We showed up like other Saturday mornings, to the field where J's soccer game was. This one doesn't have a clubhouse overlooking the field so E was with us playing legos on a blanket while we all tried to stay warm. Most weeks we've really lucked out with decent weather and even sun but this morning was actually a pretty cold and a bit wet. We were playing an away game against a team who mostly speak French and even Arabic. They are older and a stronger club and with the grey clouds, cold temps and predictable outcome, I wasn't thinking it was going to be a very enjoyable morning. We went and stood by the other parents, as usual. The mom and I (whom I didn't recognize) began to talk. We started talking about players we didn't recognize (we have a couple floating onto our team as we have need). Then I introduced myself and she did the same. She has a stepson on the team and is usually at his brothers' games and I that's why we hadn't met yet. We talked for the entire game. She was so friendly and warm and interested. She told me of some wonderful local events we need to check out. After the game we went to the clubhouse to get a snack and drink while the boys showered. Before we left she gave me her number and said to call anytime and if we want to go to a certain festival together with the kids to let her know and we can go a weekend they have the boys. I left feeling so filled up.

While this probably sounds quite normal for a Saturday morning, this is not at all a usual experience for us. People here are polite. If I initiate conversation people politely respond. However, we haven't made friends from those moments. In fact, we have felt pretty aware of how much we are outsiders weekly with soccer. Again, people are polite, but we just aren't one of them. We aren't from here. We don't know the ins and it's quite obvious to everyone. We feel this acutely and some days (or weeks) it just feels...well, that's why I don't write. I can't fill in what exactly it feels like.

We do have to say, these moments make us really thankful for our school community here. There people have invited us in. There are still plenty of moments we recognize how still outside we are, but we are grateful for the community that continually invites us in. We also are really thankful for our church family who do the same. We are thankful for the local grocery store clerk who recognizes us and always starts conversation. We are thankful for new friends from school who invite us over for dinner just to get to know us (that is NOT usual for here). I'm reflecting on these things and trying to remember them on the days I'm painfully reminded how much of an "outside lander" as they say here, I am. This whole experience definitely gives me such a different appreciation for others who come from other experiences and backgrounds than me. I find myself noticing others and really trying to engage with them in a new way. It also makes me wonder how I'll feel this summer when we're back in the US...and still feel a bit like outsiders. I'm not going to worry about that for now!

When Fear Reigned

Fri, 30 Jan 2015 22:21:18 GMT

If I read 20 of the top headlines each day I think I would hardly be able to go outside my home, let alone let my children do anything! We live in a time when things seem very scary and everything we read about is a major threat to our very existence...at least according to the media. If it's not infectious diseases that will potentially kill us then it's the result of damage from a vaccine against them that will harm us. We are in danger from being too supportive on other countries for oil or is it that we are in danger of producing too much here creating the price to fall and then shutting down most of our new production? We are in danger of being too narrow-minded and intolerant and yet we are afraid if we tolerate extremism our very lives could be at risk. It's the conservatives, it's the liberals, it's evangelical Christians, it's extreme Muslim terrorists. My head goes round and round trying to figure out who and what to be most afraid of and what to do instead.

Isn't anyone else tired of the merry-go-round that constantly spins faster and faster with fear as the fuel and accusation as the handles to hold onto? When did we lose the ability to have a conversation, express opinions? When did we have to start to fear that our very thinking would be challenged while we are maybe still trying to work out exactly what to believe, sometimes even legally?

I had a fantastic statistics teacher. I was terrible at statistics as I didn't understand them. I always saw different patterns and outcomes and it wasn't until later in the course that we learned a lot about how to really manipulate data using different mathematical means to present the image that we wanted people to see from the numbers. This didn't make me a conspiracy theorist but it did teach me to really look at published research and see how they used data and what kind of data was used. I worked as a TA at university and was helping my psych professor with a research project that was to be published. This process again highlighted how data isn't so black and white. The same raw information that is factual can be presented in different manners to support various angles. This isn't to point fingers at any one group but to say, statistics are not always as they seem. We all (usually) agree that we already see things biased from media of different sources. This opens up an interesting conversation then in my mind.

If numbers aren't quite so black and white (on any side of any issue anywhere) and the media is not unbiased how can mere bloggers and average Americans understand so clearly what researchers don't even agree on?

My heart has been so sad lately as I see post after post ranting and raving against all of the "uneducated, ignorant, selfish parents who irrationally fear autism and don't vaccinate their children." These posts break my heart as dear sisters in Christ promote their own views by what they post. These same ladies are some of the gentlest most Jesus-loving women I know. And yet, they are agreeing and even promoting incredibly damaging viewpoints against other dear sisters in Christ. I'm not sad because I'm anti-vaccine (I'm not). I'm sad because the articles they are agreeing with and promoting do nothing to build up the body. I know incredibly educated, intelligent, professional people who have given up a secure life of corporate success to serve others who choose not to vaccinate their children. I also know parents who choose to vaccinate and whom many would call incredibly ignorant, selfish and irrationally afraid parents. The damage comes when we point fingers out of fear and judgement instead of conversing and seeking to understand each other. When we don't actually talk about the issue but promote posts that use inflammatory language on either side of an issue, we are doing more damage and causing more division than helping. When we post articles where the author is so angry at the other side that she/he is wishing terrible evil and harm befall the other side, what does this say about our own hearts? Once again as followers of Christ, we are sucked into a brutally ugly cultural clash and that is what the world sees. They don't see Christ in staking your place far from the grid, far from vaccines, far from big government. They see crazy and judge accordingly. They also don't see Christ in promoting hate-filled language against others just because of different choices, different data usage, different experiences. They just see angry judgmental people. Neither of these inspire people to follow Christ. They inspire followers of fear and hatred.

I'm sure there are men who post on these topics as well. However, I notice the mommy wars and how ugly they have gotten and how far beyond just comparing kids these wars have gone. So to my dear sisters, please, let's engage in intelligent conversation where we seek to understand and hear each other. We will not agree on a lot of points but we can disagree with passion and grace if we allow Christ to reign instead of fear. And we can still love each other and pray for each other fiercely. Our battle shouldn't be against each other but against the evil powers of darkness. Other people are not the enemy so let's collectively gather our weapons and stand side by side instead of massacring our own, our sisters, our friends, our family. Lay down fear and pick up compassion!