Refined by fire

(Roma has read and approved this message!)

My son just got his drivers license yesterday. Finally. I haven't been as eager as he, for I love the fine people of my community. I have been reluctant to put lives in danger by unleashing another teenage alpha male on the road! (If you know Roma, you are shaking your head with gratitude!)

Roma will be 19 soon. I postponed the inevitable as long as possible. Roma is my baby, and maybe I am a little overly protective of him. I need to let him go, even to make his own mistakes, but he has had a head start on practicing mistakes.

"Roma!" I am always saying (and always with an exclamation point!), "Learn from the mistakes of others! You cannot possibly live long enough to make them all yourself!" Big mistake on my part—so now he is doubling up, testing my assumption, accepting my dare!

I pray for his thoughts and actions, and his safety. I lay him down at the feet of God. I want him to linger there, for a nanosecond, or two, at least. But he keeps getting up and running off. Is it my job to keep dragging him back, thrashing in protest?

We adopted Roma eleven years ago from Russia. The story is documented in my book, But the Greatest of These is Love, published last fall. I wrote the book because I could not NOT write it—the book sort of wrote itself. This story is who I have become. It oozes out in my daily life, my conversations, and my on-going, pray-without-ceasing dialogues with God, which usually begin, "God, help me mother Roma." and sometimes include clinched-teeth bargaining with God, even wrestling with God.  (Hey, I am not the first!) My hope in sharing our story is so others will see God in the details of their lives, and be blessed. To recognize the miracles of God's grace is a blessing. To have eyes that have been opened to see the glory of God is a blessing. I hope my story gives hope to others who are wrestling with God about the plan He is revealing to them. God sees the big picture. We do not. God has mysteries that we cannot fathom with our little ant brains.

God doesn't want us to always be like ants. He wants to transform us. Often He refines us by fire. Not literal fire, but by trials, even suffering.  I do not mean to make it sound like raising Roma has been on par with some people's genuine suffering. The biggest trial in my life has not been raising Roma, but surrendering to Got when He revealed His plan for me of adoption when it was not my plan. Getting on board with God's plan was the challenge. And Roma has continued along that path, challenging me! Every day!

"Trials." Sure, trials bring with them many qualities like perseverance, character, and hope, but who signs up for trials?  We would rather be refined by a massage while meditating with a glass of wine. I guarantee more would be signing up for that! But as an old story goes, the process of purifying precious metals is complete only when the one doing the purifying can see his own image reflected in the metal. It is in the process that we are refined.

Is it easy? No! It was never meant to be easy. What do we learn from "easy"? I know I have learned a lot from "hard"!

Through the years, well-meaning friends have stopped just short of asking THE question. I have read it in their skepticism, in their careful comments. Only one person ever verbalized THE question—a middle school teacher who had previously taught my older, calmer children, and had her hands full with my charming, exuberant, bouncy Roma—"Do you ever regret adopting?"

Older adoptions are more complicated, when neglect has had time to complicate a young child's psyche. For a child to spend the first seven years of life in a setting we can not imagine, leaves an impression and an impact that have consequences.

But never for another nanosecond do I regret claiming the jackpot that is Roma. It would be like saying I wish I had never been born. Because of God's impact on my life through Roma, I have been born again. We thought we were saving a little boy from Russia, yet we were the ones who were saved!

Oh, there are moments (MANY) when Roma and I lock horns and my prayer is for Roma's protection from ME! But he is my son in every sense that matters. His love has changed me. For the better. I pray mine has done the same for him.

And as he drives away, I pray for his safety and decisions that come with his new freedom. I have to let him go.

Stop by Facebook, "like" to get updates, and scroll to the beginning, to see more photos of my delightful, exasperating boy! And if you live in the vicinity, keep your eyes peeled for a dark green, 2000 Chevy Impala. I would give you the tag number, but it will be moving too fast to read!

Has my life been blessed? Oh, yeah!

To continue with more "Roma Stories," go to The Hound Of Heaven Winks

HGTV NV

I do not watch much television. Days go by without me plopping in front of the "idiot box." "Idiot box" was coined in 1990 on MTV. I never thought I would agree with anything on  MTV!

I occasionally watch HGTV, also referred to as Home and Garden Television. Although I am not much into gardening, I enjoy do-it-yourself projects around my house. I am astonished watching dilapidated hovels transformed into relative mansions.

My own house is only seven years old, with the open concept that will need "updating" soon, in this age of fast, manipulated obsolescence. Picking appliance colors was tricky seven years ago, for sooner or later "stainless steel" will be the new "avocado." I chose "bisque," because I like "bisque." NO one on the show agrees with me. According to the experts, the new appliance color is "white ice," in other words, white. Everything old is new again.

HGTV has turned me into an amateur house designer, decorator, architect, and re-modeler. When I am in older homes of friends or relatives, I am constantly looking over their shoulder for the possible location of the support beams and ways to expand that kitchen. Can that wall come down? What if we open up that staircase on both sides. What was the homeowner thinking when selecting that fabric? Could I live with this orange paint?

I am presently in the middle of a few home improvements of my own.  I tell myself that because I am an artist, I love "beauty," for the sake of beauty.  I have bought travertine tile for the back splash in my kitchen. I have a small kitchen in my lower level too, so, of course, that has to be tiled too.  And I will install it myself, naturally, with my newly-purchased wet saw. I have become discontent with my new, lovely home. And with what I have spent "updating," I could have funded a clean-water well in Africa! Maybe two.

I am experiencing house envy from HGTV.  I never thought I was materialistic, but I am quickly crossing that line.

I was humbled by a recent episode in which a young single mother had a $100,000 house budget. She was so glass-is-two-thirds-full enthusiastic with each disgusting shanty she toured–disgusting in my humble opinion, which, by the way, got humbler as the show progressed.  By the end of the show, I almost wept in rapture for the joy she was expressing for the opportunity for her first starter home. She literally looked more angelic and lovely as the show evolved. I remembered how I had adored our starter home, a little cape cod with rotted  window frames, no heat other than wood, and the back porch that was barely still fastened to the house. Ah, those were happy days!

A few months back I saw a different episode in which another single mother also had a $100,000 budget. I was as shocked as the Realtor when the buyer criticized every room. "I was hoping for granite counter tops . . .  hardwood floors , , , nice master suite . . . upgraded bath . . ." And, as you can guess, the young woman's face became more distorted with each bitter pronouncement of dissatisfaction. The show ended awkwardly, with no sale.

I am examining myself as to whose attitude of these two mothers mine mimics. As an adoptive mother (read But the Greatest of These is Love!) I often quote James 1:27, at least the first part: "Religion that God accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress," PERIOD. I don't  often want to drag my guilty self into the next part of that verse: "and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world."

I promise, publicly, after this last (expensive) piece of travertine is stuck to the wall, and grouted, and sealed, I am done upgrading myself out of dissatisfaction. I want an angelic face of gratitude! I have so much to be thankful for!

"Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication," was coined by another expert in beauty, Leonardo Divinci!

Be thankful in all things!

 

The Dark Matter of Love

Perhaps you have, in anticipation, lovingly prepared a nursery, peeked in from time to time, sometimes lingering to sit in a rocking chair, hugging a bear, and imagining . . .

I carried three babies to term, and one who didn't make it in the complicated gestational process. Although I was thankful for the healthy ones, it is devastating to lose a child for whom you have longed.

My forth child came to us through adoption. As soon as I saw his pictures, I was in love, again, and the "nesting" began anew. I obsessed about Roma, prayed for him, shared his photo with anyone nice enough to take a peek. This feisty seven-year-old was my boy. Now, if you experienced our adoption process, or read my book, But the Greatest of These is Love, you might be saying, "But Debbie, that is not how I remember it." True, at first I did  wrestle with God for planning my life without consulting with me, but even so, something happened when  I saw Roma's photos. If you have adopted, you probably understand this! I think the same thing happens when you see the new, detailed ultrasound photos of your baby.

We hosted Roma when he visited with a group of older Russian orphans for a week in November, 2001. As soon as he returned to Russia, I counted down the days until I could go retrieve him from half a world away. I stubbornly willed him to look often at the family photo album I filled of Roma's visit that fall. I wanted him to have hope. Someone loved him; he had a family.

Now I image that longing to reconnect playing out in 300 families who were scheduled to return to get their children in Russia when the adoption ban in January shattered their dreams.

It is devastating to lose a child for whom you have longed.

It is one thing to lose a child through miscarriage, and another, through forbidden access when grown, powerful men use vulnerable, orphaned, children of their own country as political pawns to avenge a perceived insult. Originally, the ban in December, 2012, was said to be in retaliation for restrictions against Russia for human rights violations. Now it is supposedly because Russian officials worry about the safety of their orphans after 20 children have died after being adopted by American families. Sixty-thousand Russian children have been adopted by Americans in the past two decades. The United States is the most common destination for adopted Russian children.

This morning, June 20, 2013, this article appeared in the Washington Post. One family's fight for one of the 300 is over because their chosen two-year-old girl with Downs Syndrome died in her orphanage. But the fight continues for many others.

As hopeless as the situation seems to most, there are some people who cannot sit by and wait. Sarah McCarthy, a British filmmaker has inspired a petition to congress insisting the President Obama negotiate with Putin about the ban. Her recent video was not originally intended to highlight the plight of the 300 families left in limbo, but  it might become a vehicle to do just that. The Dark Matter of Love began before the ban took effect and does not mention the ban. The video instead looks at human development and the critical need for love and bonding, and the challenges of adoption due to the lack of love. But a project of this magnitude, and hopeful consequences, takes time and money. Russians will be able to see the film June 25 for the first time at the Moscow International Film Festival. In the spotlight of the Russian press, American families fighting to bring their children home will be able to appeal directly to the Russian officials involved in the ban.  McCarthy is trying to raise money to take the film across all of Russia and the U.S. to raise awareness. Here is McCarthy's recent update on the progress of the video.

Please consider donating to the Kickstarter campaign during the next two weeks only. God is in the business of adopting. If you have been affected by adoption, please donate to this cause. And as a matter of fact, we have ALL been effected by adoption.

Ephesians 1:5 tells us "God decided in advance to adopt us into his own family by bringing us to himself through Jesus Christ. That is what he wanted to do, and it gave him great pleasure." NLT

Is it not our duty to do the same for the least of these? 

9/10/2013 Update! The documentary was funded and is now available. See the trailer and learn more here.

9/19/2013 update! I received a complimentary copy of the DVD  and watched all 90 minutes in one sitting. I would recommend this documentary to anyone who has adopted a child, considered adopting a child, or just interested in the effects of love, having it taken away, and having it restored. The Dark Matter of Love is not a story told through rose-colored glasses, yet there is HOPE!

Face to Facebook

I joined Facebook last fall for the sole purpose of promoting my new book, But the Greatest of These is Love. I had resisted earlier suggestions to join because I know myself well enough to know that I might spend too much time checking out the lives of my friends, acquaintances, friends of friends, etc. I have indeed had fun connecting with friends and reconnecting with friends who I last knew when we were literally kids.

At first I  timidly garnered enough courage to "like" someone's status. Then I inched out into new territory and posted a comment on someone's status. Still, I was tentative, posting, then immediately deleting, then posting same post again. Who cares what I think?, I would ask myself.  But I am over that now! Nobody cares what I think, but it doesn't matter!  That is not part of the rules. We just care about those little red numbers tallying our "likes" and comments.indicating that we are special.

And it isn't just Facebook. It is Twitter, online video games, instagram, constant texting, even when it seems rude. Technology! The savior and downfall of civilization. Finding and dissemination information has never been easier. I have discovered that I love to research, now that the capability is at my fingertips! The capacity for quick information may often be helpful," but as Einstein said, "information is not knowledge."

I've had to learn a whole new language with all initials, "new speak" I call it, reminiscent of George Orwell's 1984, where the totalitarian state reduced language to simplistic terms to limit free thought. (Watch for that blog that is ruminating as I write this one.) I had to learn "lol" did not mean "lots of love" as I was tempted to post to convey my compassion, when "laugh out loud" would have been grossly insensitive! There are several other letter combinations I haven't figured out, so I dare not use them!

I am over my early trepidation, and now I am confidently posting all the time, "all" being the operative word here. I am becoming a Facebook junkie. Now when I post something, I am eagerly awaiting someone to "like" or comment on my status. I have to step back. Sometimes after an out-of-control session lasting too long, I feel icky. Hours of my life gone for nothing. Has anyone else experienced this? I had to turn the "chat" feature off—I envisioned all the names scrolling down,  people liking, and becoming friends with, and commenting, sitting in front of the new idiot box in an alternate universe, along with me, instead of talking face to face with a flesh-and-blood friend. How alien this concept would have been only a decade ago, except to Rod Serling/Twilight Zone aficionados.

The Twilight Zone, young ones, was a science-fiction (or, in "new speak," Sci-Fi) television show that

aired on CBS from 1959-1964. Its paranormal, futuristic, and disturbing events inspired a few reoccurring nightmares during my lifetime. It always opened with the creator, Rod Serling cryptically inviting, "Imagine if you will . . ."

"Imagine if you will . . . one humanoid posts a "status update" on his hand-held device, the other, often sitting beside the other, comments on said status update by typing on his own hand-held device. No audible words are spoken between the two . . ."

In all of our "connectedness," we have isolated ourselves. So here we sit, face to Facebook. Welcome to the Twilight Zone.

Unpopular Christian virtues

The last time I mentioned sex in a post was when I compared my book, But the Greatest of These is Love, to the best seller, Fifty Shades of Gray. The two books share quite a few similarities, except maybe the "best seller" part . . . and, the sexual content. I've never read Fifty Shades of Gray, so there might be a few other differences. If you missed Fifty Shades of Red, go back and read it.

In the last couple of weeks, I have witnessed dramatic examples illustrating why illicit, forbidden, casual, uncommitted, recreational sex is not a great idea, regardless of what at least one participant was thinking at the time. Rarely does either party say, "this one act could adversely alter the course of my life, it might cause me to go to jail, lose my job, devastate my family, lose the trust of my spouse, BUT, it is going to be SO worth it!" No sex is that good. Some may disagree. 

At the risk of sounding like a prude, I will continue. My 18 year-old-son reminds me daily that we live in the 21st Century and none of this pertains to modern times. But I am curious why the obsessive distraction, often to our ruin, about the mysterious enigma of sex. 

We live in a culture where we are led to believe that sexual freedom is a birthright. Why else would people in authority insist that girls of any age have access to the "morning after" pill without parental consent, when that same child would be denied an aspirin at school without her parent's permission. The age of  consent in the U.S. is 16 in most states. In some countries it is as young as 12. To view "Mature" rated movies, one must be 17.  By that time, the horse is usually out of the barn, so to speak! 

 A hundred years ago, coming out of the long Victorian Era,  Sigmund Freud was concluding and teaching that sexual repression was the major psychological problem of mankind, and the indirect cause of much of Western society's woes, illnesses, and crime. Those Victorians were to blame, for being a prudish and uptight bunch!

The Victorian era, the reign of Queen Victoria (1837-1901), is considered by historians to be a period of peace and prosperity, refined sensibilities, and national confidence in Britain. (I consider it a period of beautiful architecture and furniture, since that is about all that remains from that period!) A recent Discovery.com article suggested that people from the Victorian era, which was marked by "an explosion of innovation and genius," had higher I.Q.s than people today. Interesting. So, are we getting dumber? (one mind-numbing episode of most prime-time TV should provide evidence!)

"Chastity is the most unpopular of the Christian virtues," writes C.S. Lewis in Mere Christianity. Mere Christianity was adapted from a series of radio talks on the BBC during World War II, much like Roosevelt's Fireside Chats in this country, meant to sooth an anxious populace. 

Today, Christians' chastity, or lack of, virtually mirrors that of the world's, even though Christians are called to sexual purity. Even Saint Augustine, fourth century church father confessed that, as a young man, he prayed constantly for chastity, but while his lips were saying "Lord make me chaste," his heart was adding, "but please don't do it just yet."

I am remembering the messes in our families, communities, and government that promiscuity has caused that sexual purity, or self-control, chastity, temperance–words we don't often use anymore–would have prevented. Gone are the days when we hold self control and delayed gratification, or "refinement" of any kind to a high ideal. We have now achieved Freud's goal, complete sexual freedom. We now have cozy terms like "friends with benefits" describing mutually satisfying sexual relationships that don't involve, well, relationship. We seem to be devolving. 

Today we are free of sexual repression, and for that matter most "repression," in any area of life. Has that reversal improved our race? We have one of the highest teen pregnancy rate in the western, industrialized world, pedophilia, abortion as birth control, high divorce rate, children growing up without fathers, orphans, a growing prison population, rampant STDs, high suicide rates, high numbers medicated for depression. We teach the young people in health class to "wait until they are ready for sex." Ask most teens who think they are in love (which is often, with many) if they are ready. They are ready!


C.S Lewis opined, "the sexual appetite, like our other appetites, grows by indulgence . . . Perversions of the food appetite are rare. But perversions of the sex instinct are numerous, hard to cure, and frightful." 

I wonder what Freud would think today if he studied the cause of society's woes, illnesses, and crime. It certainly isn't repressed sexuality!

"Virtue," (another word we rarely use anymore) "–even attempted virtue–brings light; indulgence brings fog."  C.S. Lewis

Celebrating mediocrity

I have served (in "mission field" sense) as a high school substitute teacher the past thirteen years. As an observer of people, I have an abundance of blog topics supplied on any given day. A recent lesson plan began, "These are all excellent students . . . They will be taking a test . . .  Watch closely for cheating."  Excellent students will cheat? Really? Why do we call them "excellent"?  

In Screwtape Proposes a Toast, C.S. Lewis wrote, "What I want to fix your attention on is the vast overall movement towards the discrediting, and finally the elimination, of every kind of human excellence—moral, cultural, social or intellectual . . . 'Democracy' . . .  is now doing for us the work that was once done by the most ancient dictatorships and by the same methods. The basic proposal of the new education is to be that dunces and idlers must not be made to feel inferior to intelligent and industrious pupils . . . All incentives to learn and all penalties for not learning will vanish . . . the teachers—or should I say nurses?—will be far too busy reassuring the dunces and patting them on the back to waste any time on real teaching. We shall no longer have to plan and toil to spread imperturbable conceit and incurable ignorance among men."

These chilling, prophetic words were first published in the Saturday Evening Post in 1959. The essay was an indictment against certain trends in public education. The short essay is often included as an addendum to Lewis' The Screwtape Letters, first published in 1942. That popular book takes the form of a series of letters from "Screwtape," a senior Demon, to his nephew "Wormwood," a tempter-in-training, learning the methods of securing the damnation of man, referred to only as "the Patient." In the upside down world of Screwtape and Wormwood, the goal is to guide the Patient toward "Our Father Below" (Devil/Satan) and away from "the Enemy" (God). 

The "self-esteem" movement has been tracked back to the 1960's. (It probably was conceived as early as the Enlightenment and the philosophy of Rousseau, but that is another very interesting story for another day.) The modern movement hit full speed in the 1980's. Experts in education reasoned that if we, parents and teachers, made children feel good about themselves, their school achievement and behavior would improve. Teachers would no longer write corrective comments on students' papers for fear of damaging the budding psyches of young students. They would allow the students to "invent" new spellings of words. They would no longer teach them what was right and wrong, but let the students come to their own conclusions. Parents would give their children a voice in all decisions, and explain their motives ("because I said so!" was no longer a valid response) so the autonomous Self of the children could fully develop. And they would no longer give out ribbons to reward excellence, but instead give everyone a certificate of participation, so no one's feelings would be hurt. 

As early as the mid 1990's, there were rumblings that the Self-Esteem movement was not producing the desired affect. Rewarding mediocre work was not only NOT helping the students study skills and behavior, but by inflating their out-of-control egos with unearned, or even false praise, we were creating entitled, self-absorbed, apathetic youth. Even with evidence mounting against the self-esteem initiatives, no change was made to eliminate or modify them.

Let me be perfectly clear here—I sub at a public high school because I love the students. We adults are the ones who have created this alternate universe; the kids are just trying to survive in it! And many are having a difficult time maneuvering through the fog. Suicide is rampant among teens. In my 13 years as a sub, at least TEN students or former students have taken their own lives.  

The dad in the 2004 children's movie, The Incredibles, classically lamented, "They keep inventing ways to celebrate mediocrity." Research that same year exposed, contrary to expectations, that higher self-esteem was not linked to better learning or better behavior. An international math test found that although American students ranked low on skills, they ranked number one in believing they were good at math. They were also most likely to report receiving good grades in math. But inflated grades are necessary in order to match inflated egos. Today's B was yesterday's C. 

One educator opined that we have taught them to think so highly of themselves, they hardly think of anyone else. They are becoming unteachable, so certain are they of their own worth and correctness.  

Self esteem for hard work and accomplishments is a powerful motivator. But praise for the sake of praise doesn't make any sense. The kids are smart enough to get it! No one values a "certificate of participation."

Praise, like money, doesn't mean much to us humans, unless it is earned. 

Love your neighbor

If you read my book, But the Greatest of These is Love, (if you haven't, you should!) you know that I fell in love with the Russian people while we were on our journey to bring our youngest son home from Russian. They are warm, loving, and generous people. When I saw the following video, I was not surprised by the kindness I saw expressed in a "love your neighbor as yourself" sort of way. 

Apparently many Russian drivers have video cameras attached to their dashboards called "dashcams." Because the country has an epidemic of insurance fraud, like our own, drivers need proof of their innocence. Sure, there were many strange accidents and pedestrians throwing themselves into the paths of cars, faking injury that were cut from this heartwarming compilation. But many acts of kindness were surprisingly caught on tape. (Maybe I am surprised because so many despicable acts have been caught on camera lately.)

This video is very touching, and the music is beautiful. I am now committed to do an act of kindness every day for the next week that is not in my comfort zone. Maybe it will become a habit. Game on? Imagine such a world!

Did these people act kindly because they knew they were being watched and recorded? It is my firm belief that we are all being Watched. No deed, good or bad, goes unnoticed. Does that fact change the way we behave? I can tell you that I much prefer the personal joy I experience in my  good deeds than the wretched feeling left by my unkind ones. I want my "Video" to play back scenes of me loving my neighbor as myself. 

Now enjoy the video.