Four-Year Old Faith

There's nothing as beautiful as the simple faith of a child.

I read this post from my cousin on Facebook about her 4 year old at bedtime. My cousin is headed to Haiti soon on a missions trip.

At bedtime Koen hands me his old piggy (fishy) bank and says, "Here mom you can bring this to the kids in Haiti. They would like it." Then he hands me a stuffed animal that plays music and says, "And you can give this to one of the kids in Haiti. It will help them sleep good." Then he says, "Is that a good thing mom?" "Yes Koen that's a very good thing." Then we prayed for the people in Haiti that they will have food and not be sick. Koen prays that they will have a car. I told him that most of them don't have cars. He says, "They all have to walk to Rite Aid?" I had to laugh, so cute! Koen also told me he wants to go Haiti and build houses like his Uncle Jay. (And bring his tool belt.)

What if we all embraced opportunities like little Koen? Koen has no idea how terrible the situation in Haiti is, or that most are homeless, jobless, and unsure of where their next meal is coming from. He isn't overwhelmed with the situations in third world countries. He isn't convinced that one person cannot change the world. To him, it's simple. In Koen's world, a stuffed animal will make things better. Or a piggy bank. So he wants to give them to the children in Haiti.

I think too often we adults are overwhelmed at the "big picture": world hunger, poverty, sex-trafficking, homelessness. We see the big issues and convince ourselves we can't change the world.

Well, you can't change the entire world.
At least not in this very moment.
And definitely not on your own.

But a stuffed animal? A sweatshirt? A pair of shoes?

You can give that, right?

And that can change someone's world.

And changing someone's world is making a difference.


What can YOU do to change someone's world today?

But Moses' Hands Got Tired...

"But Moses' hands got tired. So they got a stone and set it under him. He sat on it and Aaron and Hur held up his hands, one on each side. So his hands remained steady until the sun went down."
Exodus 17:12, The Message

If you don't know this particular story in the Bible, let me give you a brief overview:

The Israelites went out to fight the Amalekites and, as long as Moses held up his hands, the Israelites were winning the battle. As soon as he lowered his hands, the Amalekites began to win. (see Exodus 17:9-11)

That's where we picked up the story. Aaron and Hur, who were with Moses, realized this and did everything in their power to assist Moses. They knew Moses could not do it alone. So they did it with him.

--

Let's rewind in my life about fourteen years to a time in my life maybe only a handful of you have ever heard about. I was raised in a Christian home, a loving family, and was surrounded by people of faith on a constant basis. Being as young as I was, I loved God mainly because the people around me did. To most people we were the perfect family: loving parents, two kids, and an unbelievable extended family that all lived next door.

On the outside, it was bright.
On the inside, we were stuck in an extremely dark, confusing time.

My mom had just been taken to the state hospital, where she was undergoing treatment for "chronic mental depression due to uncontrollable chemical imbalances."

At the time, I knew mom was sick and couldn't live with us.

The truth? She, completely outside of her control, sank into a depression that drove her into a state of confusion, sadness, and suicidal tendencies. She literally had lost her mind.

And it all happened out of nowhere. Mom had a great business, had just completed a playground project for my school, and was there every afternoon to pick us up from school.

Until one day, she didn't.

All I remember is Mom crying. A lot.
Dad slept in the doorway of their bedroom. Too often Mom would try to get up at night and "end the pain." So there he slept...
I just remember him being tired. Always tired.
Women from the church started staying at our house.
And then Mom closed her bakery.

Fast forward three months.
Mom's gone.
In the state hospital.
We had to walk those white walled halls and go through multiple locked doors just to see her.

I remember wondering who she was. She looked like my mom, but it wasn't her. My mom was never sad. My mom didn't cry. My mom laughed, a lot. I get my personality from her... she was always the light in a room. But she just sat there, wanting to hold my hand, and always spoke of how she was going to miss me when she was gone. I was nine, I didn't understand what she meant.

For months I ate homemade meals from church families, stayed with friends after school, and visited Mom in the place with white walls.

I can only imagine how tired Dad was.

Our house was covered with Bible verses, two in particular. He always told my brother and I to cling to them. Little did I know how desperately he was clinging to them himself.

Those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength...
(Isaiah 40:31)

And we know all things work together for good for those that love God...
(Romans 8:28)

Dad was tired.
Knowing what I know now, tired doesn't even begin to cover it.
Dad was weary, weak, and in need of strength.

We went to church every Sunday with Dad, and, although I couldn't tell you a single thing that was preached from the pulpit during these times, one Sunday is permanently etched into my memory.

I was watching my Dad as he worshiped, and he raised his hands. Halfway through the song, Ronnie, our Evangelism pastor, came up behind him and helped hold his hands up. I remember wondering what Ronnie was doing, then later my dad told me the story of Moses, Aaron, and Hur. It was like God was saying, "You can't do this alone. Let me help. I know that you're weak. But you don't have to be."

The image is still alive in my mind.
And it came flooding back at church yesterday when Pete revisited this story.

Community is the way God confronts and redeems our desire to give up.

I have no idea how many times Dad wanted to give up. Personally? I never heard him say it once. But maybe he was ready to give up. Maybe his will, energy, and strength were all but gone.

But on that day, God confronted my dad and wouldn't let him.

Community was in the form of Ronnie, helping him hold his hands up.

--

Most of this I learned to understand later, due to several relapses my mom had throughout my childhood. Medically, I understood why Mom wasn't around each time a relapse occurred. Spiritually, all I knew was that we weren't alone.

All because of one moment.

My dad, too tired to hold up his hands.
And Ronnie, helping him hold them up.

--


*In case you were wondering, Mom is back to laughing, smiling, & is healthy now, and has been for 7 years.*

One Word.

One word.

It really can't do much, right?

In a culture where verbose resolutions are made to be broken, maybe one word is all we need.

In case you haven't heard, several people have ditched their pattern of broken resolutions and picked up something simple. One word.

You can read about where it all began below.

Over the past couple of days I've tossed several words around trying to decide on what would not only fit what needs to be changed in my life, but what would also stretch and challenge me in ways I don't yet know.

Then, about five minutes ago, I realized none of those words completely encompassed all that I hope for and fear when I think about 2011. My word is an unknown secret to most and a lifelong quest for all.

My word?

Purpose.

Defined both as a noun and a verb indicates not only a static, tangible thing but also a dynamic, moving action.

Noun:
the reason for which something exists

an intended or desired result; end; aim; goal

determination; resoluteness

the subject in hand; the point at issue

Verb:

to set as an aim, intention, or goal for oneself

to intend; design

to resolve (to do something)

on purpose: by design; intentionally
to the purpose: relevant; to the point

Purpose and I have a history.

It's taunted me in my failings.
Covered its face in my searching.
Shown me glimpses of its shadow in the light.

But purpose still doesn't have a name.

To be honest, the word terrifies me. The definition alone screams my past failings and whispers my unknown future. To live the definition requires something beyond myself. Actually, it requires getting rid of myself completely. It requires me to live as I was intended to, resolutely and determined, and find the thing for which I was created.

No pressure, Christina.

And isn't it ironic my personal verse for 2011 falls into the exact same category.

I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received.
Ephesians 4:1

Live a life worthy of your calling.

Talk about a new year's resolution.

So here's to 2011, a year in which I will resolve to do nothing but find my purpose, live with a purpose, and have a purpose in all I do.

Who knew one word could change so much.