It's HOW you Say It

This is scary. For the first time ever I am starting to type with absolutely no idea how this is going to end. In my earliest writing years my High School English teachers taught me the importance of an outline before you being to write. It's to easy to lose focus, or jump around and not make any sense if you write without a plan. Not that I typically write out an outline before each blog post, but I do generally know the theme or point I'm trying to make before I start to write. Just like other posts, this topic has been brewing in my mind for a while, the problem is, I'm still not sure what the solution is. Or maybe what the lesson I need to learn yet is? But I'm feeling called to write about it, so praying, God, that you teach me while we go here.
You see, I'm struggling with the way evil works within our church. I love the Catholic Church and the beautiful gifts the church has to offer. I believe none of us would know about Christ if it weren't for organized religion. I also believe our God knows that we need each other, we need structure, and we need guidance. I could go on and on for the reasons I know that we need the global church. BUT, a church made up of sinful people is a scary thing, because it means that within such a beautiful thing is also a lot of ugly. I have been blessed in my working with and for the church to see church in it's most glorious forms: reaching out and serving as the body of Christ, lifting our voices to heaven in unison, healing, teaching, bringing hearts closer to Christ. But I have also seen it at it's worst. Pride, anger, jealousy, gossip, selfishness....I've often said there is more conflict than ever when it comes to things concerning the church because when someone passionately believes they are doing the work of Christ they will often stop at nothing to follow through. Sadly, that often can mean they are blind to the hurt they are causing as they focus on their end goal. Do bad people work in the church? Probably. (although, that brings up a whole other topic of "is anyone truly "bad") So its probably safer to say, there are most likely people working for the church for the wrong reasons. But most of time, there are well intentioned people who have just let a sin that they struggle with get in the way of doing the work of God, and they don't see it because they see that they are doing the work of God they think they're supposed to be doing.
So, what's the answer then, because it's this dysfunction in church that causes so many people to run the other direction. The smallest conflict or the really big ones can feel so completely opposite of the real true love we are seeking when we seek out church, it's easy to want to distance ourselves from it. I'm often tempted to throw in the towel, despite my intense love for the Catholic Church and my church family. And I find myself thinking, if I am this tempted to give up the fight, then what can I say to those on the edges, to keep them from walking away too?
Recently, we've been talking a lot about how you say things. As we discipline our kids, as we argue with our spouses, that the actual words you say are so much less important as the WAY that you say them. You can say the exact same phrases, but say them with love and they are 100 times more effective. We always want our kids to know that we love them, even when they make the worst decisions. Just like we always want our spouses to know we love them, even when we completely disagree on an important issue. Because once there is fear that love isn't there anymore, whatever the real issue was is no longer being worked on. Instead, fear and hurt take center stage. They'll be no communicating your point after that, you now need to earn back their trust before you can go any further.
I know when I find myself in the midst of the "ugly" of church, there's a reason the words "Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things" 1 Cor 13:7 have been echoing in my mind. Love is the only answer. If we want church to work, we have to step aside and just love. That means we have to admit that "our way" isn't the "only way" and that it's more important to speak words of love than to be right. Can I still disagree? Yes, but I have to do it with love. And just like in my marriage I have to pick my battles, realize I'm not the only one this is about, and be willing to change as much as I'm asking someone else to.
I can easily look back in my life and see where my focus on the end result caused me to completely miss the opportunities God was giving me to love someone. As my faith matures, I know no matter how important I deem the fight for Christ, never does it justify the hurt of another person. If I can ask myself, "am I acting with kindness and love?" and the answer is "no" then I have to step back. Because then, I've become the problem with church. 
"Love is patient, love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth." 1 Cor 13:4-6.
I know, it probably seems like whatever issues you are facing are too big for this to work. That's kind of how I felt this morning. Discouraged. I'm only one person and I feel called to a problem that's so much bigger than I am. How can a tiny bit of love possibly fix it? Because this morning he showed me that a tiny bit of love is all He needs to work with:

My 4 year old son really wanted to blow bubbles. Since there was a snowstorm going outside and since I'm running for mom-of-the-year :) I decided we'd give it a try in the bathroom. It's multi-tasking because then once the suds get all over the floor, I'll wipe it up and ...ta-da! Clean floors! Anyway, we had fun blowing bubbles in the bathroom but I noticed quickly that the fun was short lived with each bubble as gravity quickly pulled them down to pop on the ground. Inside, in this enclosed bathroom, without the gentle breeze to take them up into the air, they fall as soon as they begin. Just like our efforts when we try to do it on our own. Without the Holy Spirit, we fail as soon as we start. But ask Him to enter in, and He takes us farther than we'd ever imagined possible.

God, I know you care more than we do about your church and about the people the church serves. Bless our work. Help us see when we are hurting instead of helping. Above all, help us to love in every situation, that truly we can share the light of Christ.

P.S. that was pretty awesome watching you pull that blog post together. You are good. :)

*A little disclaimer: While this post was spurred by a recent church meeting I attended, it's the result of many conversations and experiences over multiple years and not that meeting. If you would, please join me praying for our church community as we face some changes and work to better carry out the mission of the gospel. I'd love to pray for your church as well if you share the name in the comments.

Adopted through Christ

This Lent is extra special to me, because it started the day after our son Samuel's adoption day. I've been anxiously awaiting the day when I can share his photos with all of our friends and family. But it's interesting, as the day came and went, I realized that I wasn't as emotional as I thought I would be about it. I've heard so many stories about adoption days being a very big deal and expected to feel the same elation, but it really felt like just another day. I guess, to me, Samuel has been my son since the very minute I saw him. Holding him in my arms just solidified it. After we brought him home from the hospital, there were so few doubts that his birth mom or the social workers would change their mind, I was able to just let myself fall completely in love with him. So, honestly, it's a little odd going to court for them to say he's mine now when he's always been mine.
Now that it's "official" we are able to present him for baptism. And as we prepare for that event this Sunday, everywhere God has been reminding me that Lent is all about baptism. One of the things I love so much about our Catholic faith is that we believe we spend our whole lives continually committing ourselves to Christ. It's a great feeling, baptism. Knowing you love this God so much you are willing to give Him the only give of value that you have: yourself. Giving all, the good, the bad, the ugly no one else knows. And meeting Him in the grace that gives us the life we crave. Most of all, staying focused on the destination: union with Him in Heaven. No, we don't re-baptize ourselves, but think of the power of my commitment if each time I dip my fingers into the holy water and mark myself with the cross it is an outward sign of my hearts commitment: "this body belongs to Christ". When I genuflect before the blessed sacrament, how beautiful if each time my knee hits the floor my soul cries "I am yours, use me as you wish."
As we finalized my sons adoption and moved into Lent I understood again on a deeper level the love He has for us as well as my own worth.

"In love he destined us for adoption to himself through Jesus Christ, in accord with the favor of his will..."Eph 1:5

At the court hearing, the judge asked us if Samuel had any property or major real estate. Of course this was followed by some laughter. He's only 6 months old. In terms of money or net worth, he has nothing. They want to make sure we aren't just adopting him to "cash in" I guess. And as the verse rang in my head over and over that we were "adopted through Christ" I couldn't help but stand in awe of His great love. As a sinful person, I have nothing of worth to God to offer Him, but yet He still adopts me.
The judge went on to remind us that Samuel will be considered our child just as if we have given birth to him. Therefore, should we die, everything we have is his. That's what adoption in Christ means. That everything He has is ours. He offers me His grace in the sacrament of baptism, and over and over again in the other sacraments. But even more, He offers me his Kingdom.
This is where it gets hard, because truthfully, I don't deserve it. But that's the thing, it wasn't my choice for it to be given to me, it was a gift, freely given. But it is up to me to accept it. To Him, in terms of glory and power, I am a baby, I have nothing to offer. But the good news is that just like we didn't adopt Samuel for his real estate, He didn't adopt us for what we have to offer. He adopted us because WE are the value. We walked out of the courtroom the richest people in the world and for once, I saw when I looked at Samuel what God sees when He looks at me. If only I can hold on to that moment for the rest of my life. His gift to me is so enormous I can't wrap my head around it, but as I stare in the eyes of my beautiful adopted son, I finally feel worthy of it. And I know, that the only possible response to a gift that large, is the greatest one I have to give in return: the gift of myself.
Maybe it's been a long time since your baptism, maybe it's brand new, or maybe you've been waiting to take the plunge. No matter which, sit with Him, seek Him out in prayer, in service, any way you can this Lent, until you see it too: your worth. And then, wrap yourself in the comfort that even before it was "official" you were His all along.



*Stay tuned for Samuel's adoption story. I've been waiting 6 months to share it, but a couple more days won't hurt. :)