Schizophrenic callings?

Have you ever felt somewhat schizophrenic? Apologies to my psychology friends for using this out of context, I know, but have you ever felt like you had ten different personalities? (I guess that would be more Multiple Personalities Disorder in the DSM-IV) I'm not talking about Paul's idea of sin versus living in the Spirit when he says, "When I want to do good, evil is right there with me." No. I'm talking about the fact that we have so many different interests. Since the freshman Christian Mind class in college, I have felt torn in about fifty different directions. We certainly have lots of callings in life, but which ones do we pursue?

Someone once told me that that is a normal feeling to have. The post-college graduate, twenties life is like a buffet table; you pick and choose the different interesting career options, try them out, and if you don't like them, discard them and move on to something else. Then you eventually settle on one career.

But what if you have a career, but you still have other callings that you could pursue? What happens when you're content with your calling, but see the need for other callings to be fulfilled? I guess I've been thinking about that recently, as I have to decide whether or not to make a three-year committment to my school. I've been encouraged, though, to see many godly women and men in my life make career changes throughout their lives as they pursued God's calling. My mom, for one, has truly inspired me as she's moved from dietition in a burn unit to pastor's wife/home school mom/choir director/Bible study leader to Kindermusic teacher/teen moms Kindermusic leader. As I tell many people, she's been singing wake-up songs and lullabies to us since we were young, so leading Little Hands workshops and classes is very much a natural for her.

I guess even with uncertainty, not knowing what is the next step, we have a lot of assurance. As I write this, I have to laugh at the seeming contradiction of assurance amidst uncertainty! But I remember Abraham and all of the Hall of Faith heroes in Herbrews 11 who stepped out in faith and obeyed and followed God "even though he did not know where he was going." Psalm 37:5-6, 23-23 says, "Commit your way to the Lord; trust in him and he will do this: He will make your righteousness shine like the dawn, the justice of your cause like the noonday sun....If the Lord delights in a man's ways, he makes his steps firm; though he stumble, he will not fall, for the Lord upholds him with his hand."

It's been awesome to look back and see how God has made my steps firm and given me some difficult, yet amazing opportunities. Recently, though, I reread a poem I wrote my freshman year in response to Dr. Pennington's Christian Mind class, and realized that I still feel the same confusion about which callings to pursue. Who knows what the future holds, but I know who holds my future. :-)

A Desperate Prayer by Kim Yagel

Lord, what would you have me do? What would you have me be?

A teacher, a writer, a messenger, a musician?

Like a farmer’s rooster I await your sun to enlighten my mind, that I might find a purpose, a meaning, a vocation.

I look at the sky so softly and delicately painted by your hand,

And I think,

“Could I not be an artist? Would I not love to paint your        
Masterpiece in words?”

Then sweet melody floats to my ears, the words touch my heart,

            And I think,

“Could I not worship you in joyful music? Could I not tickle the ivory for the rest of my years?”

I see your little image bearers looking for puzzle pieces to fit their minds,

            And I think,

“Would I not love to expand their creative thoughts? Would I not love to nurture the images in their heads?”

But then I see your people across the world, clothed as skeletons, hungry, homeless, helpless. Tears fill my eyes and my heart breaks for them,

            And I think,

“Would I not love to mother them? To love them, to heal them, to protect them?”

Yet I see those beside me, Lord, filled with distress, fitting the triangle shape to the heart, losing direction as a ship without a North Star.

            And I think,

“Could I not reach them? Show them the heart’s true shape? Could I not love them?”

I sit here and wonder—what is it that you’d have me do? What is it that you’d have me be?

Here I am, Lord, an unfinished chair in the hands of the carpenter.

Will I be a stool or a loveseat, a recliner or a throne?

Here I am, Lord. Fashion me to your use.

Amen.

My Eyes Were Opened

These past twenty-four hours have been some of the most eye-opening, tragic hours of my life. Oh, I’ve been familiar with the ProChoice side and how abortionists operate, but it’s different when you see it firsthand. And it’s different when you realize you’re not a political activist, but a protector of life, and even more different when you realize you can’t save every life. It’s different. My life is different.

I used to think that while the ProLife movement was often initiated by Christians, it was more of a political movement. People hold signs and try to convince people that their side is right. The more people honk, the more persuasive your argument is, and the more people agree with you, the stronger your party becomes. That’s certainly what our lovely ProChoice people think. Every honk is a victory for them. Every additional second they stand on the curb as ProLife people leave adds to their victory cry. Every opportunity to block the ProLife signs with their signs, mock the ProLifers, talk over those who witness to the incoming cars, every opportunity is a small victory.

But we’re not political activists. We’re not protesting in front of the government buildings to make them change their laws. We’re standing in front of a clinic of death, trying to convince mothers to not kill their young, trying to convince fathers to protect their own, trying to convince mothers to not let their daughters be scarred for life, trying to show women that they don’t have to resort to the culture’s standards, the culture’s “solution.”

But sometimes all we can do is watch helplessly. Last night, I watched as three generations of women, four if the baby is a girl, walked into the clinic, and came out with a solution for preventing the fourth generation from living. It’s so hard to grasp the concept that a grandmother and mother, who one would think, experienced joy at hearing that they would have a daughter or a granddaughter, would not experience that joy this time. What would have happened if they had each chosen abortion? But I’m sure it’s convenience and time. She’s too young, not married, has school or college, didn’t want to get pregnant. And maybe this is a family tradition for each one of them. Maybe all of them had abortions when it just wasn’t convenient to have a kid.

Sometimes, we just have to watch and be silent and grieve. “I had an abortion and I wasn’t ‘harmed,’” a college-age girl retorts. “Keep your rosaries away from my ovaries,” a high school girl’s sign says. “Coalition for Life’s an organization of murderers! Carhart’s a hero! He saves women!” A worker yells, drowning out a ProLifer’s plea to a client. “Good women get abortions” another sign says. “Ha! What do they think the abortionists do to women? Use a lawnmower? These crazy anti’s are acting like someone’s gonna die! Ha! Ha!” Oh yes, and the worst comment was in response to Grace’s urgent petition, as she said, “Pray! Pray for the lives of the ten women and their babies, whose lives might be ending right now!” The ProChoice response? “ Yes!!!!! Woo hoo! Awesome! Ten women!”

If hearing people cheer like this doesn’t make your stomach churn, I’m not sure what will. Ten tiny lives taken. Potentially ten women who will fall into deep depression, live dangerous lifestyles, hate themselves, live in guilt, or even have nightmares like Kelly Stauffer http://vimeo.com/27375713 .

As I stood on the street corner in almost disbelief at what I had just heard, and as I longed to engage in verbal altercations and violent sign-swinging karate moves, I was reminded of 2 Corinthians 4:1-4 that says, “Therefore, since through God’s mercy we have this ministry, we do not lose hope. Rather, we have renounced secret and shameful ways. We do not use deception, nor do we distort the word of God. On the contrary, by setting forth the truth plainly, we commend ourselves to every man’s conscience in the sight of God. And even if the gospel is veiled, it is veiled to those who are perishing. The god of this age has blinded the minds of unbelievers so that they cannot see the light of the gospel of the glory of God in the face of Christ.”

ProLife is not a political agenda, but a statement of truth. As Christians, we are agents of truth, light, and life. Sadly, many of the ProChoice people were either naively following someone else’s lead and so, are deceived by others, or, like many of the escorts, women, and workers, are in denial of the truth and so deceive themselves. Some young guys, maybe college students, who tried to cover my sign didn’t know how to respond when I said to them, “But a woman did die under Carhart’s care.” They did not realize that abortion is actually allowing parents in many countries to exterminate baby girls, thus severely decreasing the population of women in many Asian countries this day. And I’m sure that they have never seen a diagram of how Carhart finally takes the “fetus” out of the mother. They don’t understand what they’re fighting for.

That’s why we love them, pray for them, and reach out to them. We don’t hate them. We calmly share with them the truth, knowing that only God can peel the scales from their eyes and allow them to see the truth. It’s sad and sickening at the same time to think about the reality of this life-and-death battle and the flippant attitude Pro-Aborts have. As I reflect, though, I think this type battle is everywhere. It may not be life-and-death, but it’s certainly truth versus lies. We see this in our workplaces, schools, communities, etc. We hear that it’s okay to cheat on a test, it’s good and normal to sleep around, it’s beneficial to lie in order to get an edge on our competitor. These are lies.

I think I’ve realized that while I may not be actively involved in the ProLife movement for the rest of my life, I more fully understand what “good fight” I’m supposed to participate in. It’s not a fight against flesh and blood, but it’s a spiritual battle against the deception of the “god of this age.” While I have fought blatant lies at work (e.i. my former co-teacher), I more often must confront covert, insidious lies that my students believe, such as the ideas that they cannot learn, are doomed to repeat their father’s history, are worth nothing if they’re not pretty.

Fighting this battle can be tiring and discouraging, as I’m learning this week. Not everyone sees the truth, and but by the grace of God, I would not see the truth. But I’ll end with a few promises. “We’re hard-pressed on every side, but not crushed. Persecuted, but not abandoned; perplexed, but not in despair, struck down, but not destroyed” (2 Cor. 4). “Do not be deceived; God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows…Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up” (Galatians 6:7,9).

And my favorite verse in this battle of truth: “For the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea” (Habakkuk 2:14). That knowledge of God, who is Truth, will eventually reach every single person, and when it does,  we won’t have weep over lost lives.

It All Started Thanks to Carhart...

Something incredibly beautiful is occuring in Germantown, Maryland. No, I'm not talking about the fact that no lives have been lost to abortion this week, though that is a huge cause for celebration. Nor am I talking about the number of women who have learned about abortion alternatives. I'm not even talking about the many answers to prayers we've experienced or the amount of people in the community who are opening their eyes to this abortion issue. No. What I am talking is about is something Jesus prayed for in John 17; what I am talking about is the beautiful unity of brothers and sisters in Christ.

When I first read and even memorized a portion of John 17, I used to think that Jesus was prayng that the churches would be unified in doctrine, and often would grieve at the fact that there are so many factions of the church today. There are so many different churches and denominations today, we almost have a salad bar of options; pick and choose what you want in a church. A little speaking in tongues here, some cutsie kids ministries there, a little liturgy there, and viola! Your personalized church! But I'm not sure that doctrine was what Jesus was soley speaking of when he prayed, "I pray that they would be one..."

John 17:23b says, speaking of the future believers: "May they be brought to complete unity to let the world know that you sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me." Jesus' focus, here, is not on doctrine but on the love of the Father, and further, that the world would know through Christian witness the Father's love. If we extrapolate this, we might say that, though denominations may differ, the significant issue is that the churches unitedly reveal God's love to others, and that is what is happening at Summer of Mercy 2.0.

Last night was a great example of this! We had a Catholic praise leader and a Catholic priest who led worship and spoke against abortion. Then, we had a charimatic episcopal pastor preach! Many local parishes and churches have banded together--Catholic, Presbyterian, Episcopal, and non-denominational--to celebrate our Lord in prayer and praise and pray to our Lord to end abortion. We've laughed together at the humorous comments the ProChoice people have yelled ("Stop following what someone else tells you to do!"), prayed in earnest together for Carhart's heart to change, praised God together, and been so blown away at God's incredible answers to prayer that all we can do is smile (ask me about it!). I've had the privalege to work alongside an amazing, godly, dedicated Catholic woman who has the same incredible faith in God that I only aspire to have. Together, we've seen incredible answers to specific prayers. And while saying the rosary and praying and singing to Mary make me uncomfortable, we've been able to overlook those differences in order to focus on saving lives. We've been loving on our ProChoice friends, sharing kind words and water, and we've been turning the other cheek when they've hated us.

We're not going to get into the "Is a Catholic really a Christian?" debate.  I will add, thought, that the local Catholic churches, priests, and people have been the most faithful attenders of Summer of Mercy 2.0. But picture it for a moment, will you? An episcopal charismatic preacher and his wife sing and stand next to a Presbyterian minister, a Catholic priest, and a preacher from a non-denokinational church. People from many congregations and parishes in the area come together and sing one song together. I wish the press saw this. This abortion issue is doing so much more than drawing out the prolife people; it's drawing out all of the churches and unifying the local church. Something big is going on in Germantown, and it all started thanks to Carhart.

The Other Side of the Sidewalk

Heart pounding, hands shaking, I made my way to the sidewalk, large box in hand (or, rather, arms). No, I wasn't shaking because the ten-pound box, filled with bottled water, crackers, and candy was too heavy. I admit I was a little nervous. How would they react to us? Would they know we were from the other side? If so, would they yell accusations at us? Give us the cold shoulder? Would they spit the water in our faces? Would they cuss us out? Or would they assume we were with them and rant and rave about the other side? Somehow, I thought the people on the other side of the sidewalk would be drastically different from me, from us, but I was wrong in some ways!

The group we met on Wisteria, 17 in all, were mostly younger, early to mid-twenties, and they welcomed us with warmth. They smiled. A few of them said that they had just bought water, but after a little coercing, they gladly took more for later. They smiled. There was laughter. It was obvious they were enjoying the comraderie of working for a purpose and mission, volunteering together to stand for what they believed in. And I thought it ironic that they were having similar conversations that we, on the other end of the sidewalk, had had. "Hey, you know there was one guy in a red pickup truck, American flag bumper stickers, and we didn't expect anything from him, but he suddennly smiled and gave us two thumbs up!" An excited young man was telling some of his comrades.

We walked away feeling a great sense of joy. I also experienced a sheer sense of gratefulness that we successfully dodged any conflict. They didn't ask why we were sharing water with them or where we were from. Let a blessing stay a blessing, without being tainted. Had they known we were from the other side, we would have seen the claws come out, or recieved the silent treatment, like I did when I attempted to speak with one of them on our end of the sidewalk later that evening. But the whole event was very enlightening.

I can't agree more with UnPlanned author and former Planned Parenthood director Abby Johnson when she says that BOTH sides of the "fence," pro-choice and pro-life activists, tend to demonize the other side. Oh yes, the media also tends to side with Pro-choice in demonizing us, but we are very guilty of making false assumptions and treating the other side as our enemies. Yet, when we take a step back from the debate and the protests, we should realize that our tactics should be different from the other side. They insult us, but doesn't scripture say, "Blessed are you when men insult you, persecute you, and say all kinds of evil against you."? They stalk our Catholics as they say the rosary and they take pictures, but doesn't the Lord see all things, even what's in their and our hearts? And can't we sic the Holy Spirit on them, in a sense, to reveal the truth to them (something they can't avoid). They may stay out chanting all day long, longer than us, but doesn't scripture say, "The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective?" While we're fighting the battle with prayer and praise, something that I'm sure is foreign to them, they, sadly, only have their signs, their voices, and their many intimidation tactics. I actually feel sorry for them.

We need to remember that our fight is not against the people--the workers, the pro-choice protestors, even Leroy Carhart himself. The fight is against Satan and the demons in this world. It's a spiritual battle. When we view this as a spiritual battle, we really have no room in our hearts to hate the workers or Carhart or the people on the other side of the sidewalk. They, afterall, are Satan's pawns. They're decieved. And like Jesus, who says, "Oh Jerusalem...How often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were unwilling," we should pitty them.

So what makes the "other side" come around? Does telling them statistics? Giving them the thumbs down sign as we drive past them? Frowning at them? Graphic pictures? Yelling at them? Abby Johnson would say it was Pro-Lifers' consistent kind acts and prayer that led to see she was decieved. What is more, it was their love and acceptance of her and willingness to help that helped her successfully leave Planned Parenthood. She really cared for women, and still does today, but it was through prayer that her eyes were finally opened to the truth. And it is through similar witness and prayer that we pray our Pro-Choice friends from the other side of the sidewalk come to see the truth, too!