Texas Bound

This past weekend was exactly what I needed. It was a weekend full of adventure, spontaneity, alone-time, new friendships, catching-up with old friends, celebration, exploration, growing, learning, and late-night chats.

It felt like I was back in college, which was easily one of the best times of my life.

But before all of that could happen, I had to deal with some worry or nervousness about how everyone would react.

With everything that happened with my ex, I wasn't completely sure how my friends, whom I hadn't seen since I got married, would react. In fact, I'd barely even spoken to them since I got married. We were all friends in college, but as far as I knew, they were closer to my ex than they were to me, and would very easily be against me because of her.

My girlfriend was invited to a wedding for a mutual friend of ours, who was the best friend of my ex. The bride assured my girlfriend that she wanted me to be there. But, I had so many reservations to going:

- She was my ex's best friend. Surely she would rather invite my ex.

- I hadn't spoken to her in forever; why would I be invited?

- If I did go, would it cause drama for the bride?

- Was I willing to possibly be cornered by my friends, who would want to know all the gritty details of what happened?

- Once they knew what had happened, would they judge me?

- Would they think that I was a horrible person for not fighting harder for her?

- Would they side with her and alienate me all weekend?

These kind of thought bothered me for a long while until finally I decided I had to just deal with them. I reached out to the bride and voiced my concern about coming, and making sure she wouldn't rather have my ex there. I also mentioned that I didn't want any of my past drama to infect her happiness, because if my ex saw a picture of me at the wedding, surely she would say something to her best friend.

The bride assured me that she would rather I come, and that she could handle my ex. Those were kind words, but it was still a bit hard to believe. They were best friends; there had to be some kind of twist. Right? It's easy to say something via messenger or text, compared to saying it to someone's face.

Well, I continued to worry about it, but decided I would go, if for no other reason than to meet my girlfriend's dad, who lived just a few hours away from the wedding.

On the way to Texas this weekend, my thoughts weren't focused on myself and my nervousness at all. It was just focused on enjoying the time I had with my girlfriend. But as soon as we got to the church, where the bride and two of our college friends were decorating, my nervousness and anxiety flared up.

I felt so awkward.

I was so nervous about what they'd think.

I was so... scared, I guess is the right word?

I saw the bride and our college friends running down the sidewalk, and immediately figured they were running towards my girlfriend. I stood awkwardly waiting for them to embrace, then acknowledge me, expecting some kind of question or judgment.

Instead, I got a massive hug from the bride, who began crying with happiness and all she said was "I'm so sorry for everything you've gone through, but I'm so glad you're here!" Then I got a massive hug from one of my college best friends and she said "I hate what you've gone through, but I've missed you so much!"

I didn't know what to say. All of my expectations on how this mini-reunion was going to turn out were completely destroyed by those two hugs and the words spoken.

I had been fretting over seeing them again for no reason.

In just a matter of minutes, all my discomfort and anxiety had been washed away. Before I knew it, my college best friend and I were sharing funny pictures and laughing like old times, to the point where my girlfriend, the bride and another college friend decided to leave us alone while they caught up and spoke about the wedding.

That was the entire weekend, starting from the time we left Alabama until the time we returned. We stayed up until 1-2am every night talking, laughing, reminiscing, laughing some more, telling stories, and catching up. Like I said previously, it was like being back in college.

I am so thankful that I went to the wedding, because it helped me reconnect with all the people I've missed so much. We are even planning to have mini-reunions every few months, so that we don't go four years without seeing each other again. That was way too long.

Another side of my worry about going to Texas was meeting my girlfriend's father. I was told that he was really big on first impressions, and didn't like sarcasm until he got to know you more. Well, of course, being the sarcastic person I am, this had me concerned.

Again, my concern was unfounded. Her dad and I had a great weekend getting to know each other. We had a full-on nerf-gun war, pulled pranks on my girlfriend, went to dinner, had long chats, played board games, and more. By the end of it, I was dreading having to leave. I had formed a friendship with her dad, step-mom and little brother.

I had never felt as comfortable at dinner with my ex and her parents as I did with my girlfriend. her dad and step-mom. And that was six years of my life. Our friendship got to the point where he even posted a status on Facebook inviting me back whenever I was free, and where we have decided to have a nerf-gun rematch.

As I said before, this weekend was exactly what I needed. It was one of the best weekends I've had in a very long time, helping me cement new friendships, rekindle old ones, and grow closer to them all.

And I couldn't ask for more.

CDO: The Way It Should Be

My parents, siblings, coworkers, girlfriend, church group... pretty much everyone knows that I don't like disorder. I like things to have a place, and for them to actually be in their place. Some people classify this as OCD. My mom tells me I have CDO --- OCD, but in alphabetical order, the way it should be.

Growing up, I was always bothered if our DVD's (or VHS') were not in alphabetical order. To me, it made logical sense: if they're in alphabetical order, you can find what you want easier, as well as know if you own something or not.

Later, I moved a little beyond this and even separated movies based on genre. Not too extreme or anything, but I kept animated movies separated from regular movies. That way, if I was looking for a particular kids movie, I didn't have to look through all of my dad's weird sci-fi movies first.

Then I continued and put movie series in a separate place away from stand-alone movies. That way I could tell exactly what movie we were missing in the series, or keep better track of which movie I needed to watch next.

It wasn't really that bad. Just a little organization, which never hurt anybody.

Well, knowing this, my sister, my closest confidante, one of my best friends growing up - my sister really liked to mess with me. When she would get upset with me (or sometimes just to mess with me), she would mess with the movies. She'd flip them around, put them out of order, stack them on top of each other instead of in neat rows, make it where you couldn't read the title, etc.

This. Drove. Me. Nuts.

I would spend hours sitting in the center of swaying towers of movie cases, trying my best to reorganize them all. Eventually, I'd get them all back to where they needed to be - but then she'd do it again.

Other than organizing, I always found cleaning to be comforting. When everything else seemed to go wrong, cleaning was a way for me to find some control. I don't like messy counters; I don't like dirty bathrooms; I don't like couches where there isn't enough seating because of clothes, toys, or what-have-you. It drives me crazy.

It got to the point where if I got bored, I'd clean something. And usually, if I cleaned one thing, I wouldn't stop until everything I saw was spotless.

This has transitioned into my adult-life. Though I live with my parents currently, I try to keep everything that's in my control clean. My room is almost always spotless (though it could use a good dusting every now and again), and my bathroom is as pristine as you can get it with a cat that likes to remove her food from her bowl and put it on the floor before she eats it.

It's even come into play in my work life. As the Director of Programming, I have to file away hundreds of television contracts. As the Digital Sales Coordinator, I have to manage 11 sales people and their contracts, campaigns, creative, and more. And... you guessed it, it's all in alphabetical order.

I feel best when my email (both work and personal) are completely empty, because it means I have nothing left to finish. They're just as spotless as anything else. Everything on my desk has its place, and I do my best to keep it all in its designated spot.

The point of all of this introduction was to point to the fact that I've come to realize that sometimes you have to have some chaos in your life. I like order. I like organization. I like the look of cleanliness. It makes me feel like I have my life together. When I get a ton of work, my mind gets befuddled and confused until I can organize it and begin crossing things off my to-do list.

But, sometimes that chaos is exactly what the doctor ordered. Sometimes we can get stuck in a rut of doing the same mundane thing day after day, wondering if it's ever going to change. How can we hope for things to change if we never embrace the fact that chaos will happen? By keeping things in nice, tidy rows, there's no path for deviation. Things will never change that way.

Yes, I love things to be in their place, but I also love adventure and spontaneity, and I have learned that the two don't go hand-in-hand. You can't be adventurous and spontaneous and expect to plan every detail of the trip. Things will come up that you're not expecting, and you have to learn to adapt.

If you don't, you'll become buried under a mountain of indecision, where you feel your life is completely out of sync. But it's not.

There is a time and place for organization and order - such as at work - but there's also a time for spontaneous adventure. Sometimes you have to grab life by the horns and hold on tight as everything you've planned seems to be completely derailed.

Trust me, I've been there.

I've been in a place where everything I had planned was suddenly yanked away and I had to learn how to adapt. If I hadn't, I don't know if I'd be here to write this post. But, though it was a wild ride, I'm so thankful for it. It helped me grow and learn more about myself. I'm more bold now. I'm more spontaneous. I like to think I'm more fun, too. I still have CDO tendancies, but I'm learning to let go of others.

And I believe that's the way it should be.

Swing Low, Sweet Chariot

Tomorrow, March 25, is a day that I'll never forget. It's been burned in my memory as one of the worst days of my life.

It's the day my grandma passed away in 2014.

A lot of people have asked me: "Why would you want to make sure you remember a day like that? Doesn't it make it hard?"

Let me say this: It's not that I want to remember the day she passed. It's that I can't help but remember this as the day she passed. I'd love to be able to forget that March 25, 2014 is the day my grandma passed away, and instead remember only all the years before that day.

But when that's the last thing you remember about a person, it's very difficult to not focus on that.

Recently, I have begun choosing a Bible verse for important dates in my life. Since she passed on March 25, it would be considered 3:25. The verse that jumped out at me for this particular day was Job 3:25, NLT: "What I always feared has happened to me. What I dreaded has come true."

These words are so true. I don't like thinking about any of my family dying, even though I know I'll see them again one day. I guess that makes me selfish.

For about a year after she passed, I was angry. If you have been following this blog, then you probably read the post titled "Yes. No. Later. Different". In that post, I explained why I was angry, and who with.

For those who didn't read it, here's a short (or, not so short) refresher:

My grandma was suffering from Alzheimer's. It started with small things - she couldn't remember an address or a phone number - but soon progressed to where she couldn't remember people's names. Eventually, it continued until she didn't recognize anybody. This severely crushed my sister; when she came home to visit once, my grandma didn't even know who she was.

Then she didn't want to eat, and my family had to do whatever they could to get her some nourishment. Then, she stopped talking. Then, she stopped walking. Then, she couldn't control her bladder. Eventually, she was bed-ridden without the ability to speak, the desire to eat, or the capacity to understand how much we were all doing for her.

Nobody knows if she even truly knew what was happening to her - it's not like she could tell us. For all we knew, she was trapped inside her body, mentally screaming to escape, beating mental fists against her brain, hoping that we would notice.

Or, she could have been completely unaware. She could have assumed that life was normal, there was nothing wrong, and she was just enjoying her life.

I'm not sure which is worse: the thought of her trapped without a way out, or being trapped and not realizing it.

When she finally passed, I was angry because I had prayed daily for God to heal her. How could a God who 'loved' my grandma allow her to go through such torture? How could He allow my family to have to see her wither away? How could He not do anything, when He was the only one who could have?

But I was also good at hiding my anger. I put on a mask of gratitude that she was no longer suffering, while inside I was seething. Nobody knew I was angry. Eventually, I didn't even realize that I was angry anymore; it was just a part of who I was.

But, I was angry at God.

This time last year, two or three days before the one-year reminder of her passing, my pastor preached about how God always answers prayers, but the answer could either be 'yes, no, later, different.' During the sermon, God spoke to me more vividly than He ever had before.

My pastor got us to look up a Bible verse: "For to me, living means living for Christ, and dying is even better. But if I live, I can do more fruitful work for Christ. So I really don't know which is better. I'm torn between two desires: I long to go and be with Christ, which would be far better for me." - Philippians 1:21 - 23, NLT.

Then he continued and said something that I will never forget. He said: "Death is the ultimate healing for the believer."

Hearing this, I began crying in church. I don't mean 'a-single-tear-trickled-down-his-face cry'. I mean, full on ugly-crying. I knew that I had to let go of my anger against Him, because it was completely unjustified. God convicted me of my anger against Him, because He had answered my prayer - just not in the way I wanted.

He had answered my prayer for my grandma's healing with 'different'. He did heal her. Personally, I was praying that He would heal and restore her to us. But in God's perfect plan, He healed her for eternity. He allowed her to go to her true home, where Alzheimer's is non-existant.

I knew that my selfish desire to keep my grandma here with us was the exact opposite of what she needed, and He knew that. As I said earlier, she could very well have been trapped inside her own mind, screaming for help. But because of my selfish prayers, I was willing to ignore that to keep the shell of the woman who was my grandma.

With all of that being said, March 25 is going to be a difficult day. It's a day that I've realized I have to keep myself distracted, or else I'll just constantly think about my grandma's last few days where she was wasting away.

I'd much rather keep thoughts of her singing "Swing low, sweet chariot /  Coming for to carry me home" as she pushed me in the swing in her yard. Or making homemade playdoh. Or picking flowers from around her yard.  Or making 'cowboy cookies'. Or playing Rummy and Phase 10 (she was always up for a card game). Or teaching me to crochet - even though I no longer know how. Or going for a walk down her road, picking up cans. Or all going to her house on Christmas Eve and opening presents with the family, then staying up as late as possible playing games. Or, my all-time favorite memory, when she grabbed my hand and showed me how to 'dance hot'.

These are the memories that I cherish, and that I hope to never forget. But, I also don't ever want to forget about those last few moments before she passed, as hard as they are to remember.

Because I know that she's now in a better place, smiling and dancing on streets of gold; that she's no longer in pain, bed-ridden, plagued with memory loss; that she's at rest.

And that one day, I'll get another lesson in how to 'dance hot', and this time, we won't have to stop.

Just Breathe

One of my favorite songs at the moment is "Breathe" by Jonny Diaz.

"I'm busy, busy, busy, and it's not surprise to see that I only have time for me, me, me. There's gotta be something more to this crazy life; I'm hanging on tight to another wild day when it starts to fall apart, in my heart I hear You say: 'just breathe, just breathe. Come and rest at My feet and be, just be. Chaos calls but all you really need is to take it in, fill your lungs. The peace of God that overcomes. Just breathe. So let your weary spirit rest, lay down what's good and find what's best. Just breathe.'"

I've become known among my friends, coworkers and peers as someone who has no issue doing something by himself. I never really thought much about it, thinking that everybody was like this, until recently.

Saturday, I was talking to my girlfriend about a concert Sunday night I wanted to go to, but nobody else wanted to/was able to go, so I had decided I would just go by myself. Her response was: "You like doing things by yourself. It doesn't bother you."

When she said this, I agreed, thinking that everybody liked doing things by themselves.

But then when I was at church Sunday, I was talking to an old family friend about her daughter, and she said: "Yeah, see, like you enjoy going out, not caring what anybody thinks. If you want to do something, you just do it, whether you'll know someone or not. She's not like that. She won't go somewhere unless she feels comfortable because she knows she will at least know somebody."

That's when it really hit me that not everybody is like me, and that not everybody really enjoys doing things by themselves. Clearly, I knew that not everybody is like me - but I guess I had just naively assumed that everybody enjoyed doing things by themselves sometimes.

I've gone to lunch, dinner, movies, coffee-shops, bookstores, and so many other things by myself, not thinking anything of it. Silly me, I assumed that everybody did this at least occasionally.

From personal experience, I enjoy having hours, and sometimes entire days, to myself, where I can do what I want, when I want. I find it therapeutic, and I think everybody really needs some R&R every once in a while. It's one of the best ways for me to just breathe, to realign my life and lay all my chaos at the feet of my Father.

Like last night at the concert. I was heading over, and I was really looking forward to the concert, whether anybody could come with me or not. I had decided it was just going to be a time of worship between me and God - a much needed time of worship. A re-connection, if you will, because I love worshiping, but hadn't been to a place where I could worship by myself. At church, I'm usually surrounded by friends or family, but that night, as far as I knew it would just be me, surrounded by thousands of strangers, and my God. I was ready for a solo re-connection.

The concert was one of the best I've ever attended, and I could feel God in the crowd. It was absolutely amazing.

Going by myself (and eventually meeting up with my best friend at the concert) was an incredible experience. And you want to know why? Because I had no inhibitions. I could fully worship my God.

Sometimes I know that I can get a little 'embarrassed' to worship, thinking "what is so-and-so going to think of me?", so I don't sing really loud, raise my hands, or truly worship. But last night, I didn't care. I was in a crowd of 10,000+ people where I only knew about 5 people, and only 1 of them was with me. And I truly worshiped.

It was incredible.
It was rejuvenating.
It was inspiring.

I loved every minute of it.

I've come to realize that sometimes the best way to find true worship is to fly solo. To go it alone, spending time in your thoughts, in your prayers and with your God. It's so fulfilling. There are so many distractions in life that it's easy to forget about adding God into the mix. And that's a horrible feeling, when you think about it. You shouldn't have to "add God" into your life - He should be a permanent staple in your life.

But, it's inevitable that sometimes life will become busy and God can be put on the bench, just waiting to come into play. He's waiting for us to reconnect with him. I truly believe that taking time where you have no plans except to worship - whether it's self-reflection, prayer, or true worship with song -  can really help you realign your priorities.

That's what I found last night at the concert, where I was singing my heart out, lifting my praise to God, raising my arms and worshiping!

It was unreal, and I advise anybody who needs to reconnect with God to go somewhere alone, whether it's a concert, a book store or a coffee shop. Just go somewhere by yourself where you can marvel at the majesty that is our great God.

Because, for me at least, that's the best way to reconnect with God when life gets hectic. It's the best way to remember that God is there with you through it all, when chaos comes, when stress is on the rise, when everything falls apart.

Taking a little time for yourself to spend time with God is a wonderful thing. It'll help you calm down, rest and get through another day.

It'll help you just breathe.

Endless Responsibilities

Have you ever gotten into a funk where you didn't want to do what was required of you, where you were tempted to cancel all of your obligations just to get away from it all for a while?

That was me this past Sunday.

Halfway through teaching my 4th grade boys, my mood turned sour; I didn't want to continue leading them. They were acting out, disobeying, and not listening. When I would tell them to do something, they would talk back, claiming that they had the right to do what they wanted because they were just copying what another class was doing. It got to the point that I had to tell them that I was their teacher, and that I didn't care what was happening in other classes; they were in my class, and because of such, they would listen to me.

My sour mood was quickly deepening.

By the time we were finished, I was in a bad funk, to the point where I was debating whether or not to go to church. Part of me wanted nothing more than to go home, and sleep the day away. A very big part of me.

Then I remembered that I was meeting some people from small group at church. Which turned my thoughts to small group that night. Another obligation that was going to eat away my time, and that I really didn't feel like attending.

Then I began thinking about other obligations I had made to the church, including Mission 56 on Wednesday nights. If my Sunday boys were bad, I could only imagine what my Wednesday boys would be like.

I had a long list of responsibilities. They were never-ending. And I didn't want anything to do with any of it.

Temptations to back out of being a teacher to these boys, to back out of leading my small group, to back out of helping lead worship at Mission 56, to back out of even attending church were all swirling around in my mind. It was bad.

But I had obligations, and so I pushed through my funk and decided to go to church, even though I really didn't feel like it.

As I sat waiting for worship to begin, I was on Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, whatever I could do to waste time until the service began. But then I felt this... voice? stirring?... I don't even know what to call it. But I felt something telling me to put my phone away, and instead, pray. Pray that this funk would go away.

You wanna know something? I had no desire to pray. I had the urge to pull my phone back out and see if anything new had been posted on Facebook. Isn't that sad?

But, I know that prayer always tends to help, whether I realize it or not, so I decided to give it a shot. I prayed that God would open my heart, fill me with His presence and help me get out of this funk I was in.

Honestly, at first, I didn't feel anything. But then the music began:

"Let Your breath come from heaven, fill our hearts with Your life. We are here for You, we are here for You. To You, our hearts are open. Nothing here is hidden; You are our one desire. You alone are holy, only You are worthy. God, let Your fire fall down." - 'Here for You' by Matt Redman.

I wasn't feeling this at all. I had prayed my heart would be open, but I didn't feel like it was working. Then the next song started:

"We're choosing celebration, breaking into freedom. You're the song, You're the song of our hearts... You're the joy, joy, joy lighting my soul. The joy, joy, joy making me whole. Though I'm broken, I am running into Your arms of love." - 'Joy' by Rend Collective.

This was something. I could feel something begin to stir within me, and my mood began to shift. Then, they began a song that was written by one of our worship leaders, John Martin Davis:

"When I cannot see, You are guiding me and telling me that I am not alone. You remind me that I am never on my own. I was created by the hands of the Father, and I am redeemed through the blood of the Lamb. I have been filled with the Spirit of the Conqueror, You’ve shown me who I am, and I am Yours.”

I finally felt like my heart and spirit was opening up. I was beginning to truly worship. Then they ended it with:

"You tell me that You're pleased, and that I'm never alone. You're a good, good Father. It's who You are, it's who You are, it's who You are. And I am loved by You. It's who I am, it's who I am, it's who I am." - 'Good, Good Father' by Chris Tomlin.

This song pushed me over the edge. I was finally truly worshiping again, arms lifted up to my Savior, my hope being restored. Through these songs, God had answered my prayer. He used the worship leaders to help open my heart and remind me who I was.

Then the pastor began speaking, and he was talking about how, as Christians, we all have certain responsibilities. These include: dominion (we are given dominion over all God's creation, not as masters, but as managers); human flourishing (we are supposed to help benefit our city, similar to the Israelite's in Babylon - Jeremiah 29:4-9); and, to know God and make Him known (we are commanded to tell others about Christ).

Through this sermon, God reminded me that I had responsibilities, and despite what types of troubles or issues or temptations are thrown my way, I have to follow God and tend to my responsibilities. These included leading my small group, teaching my 4th graders on Sunday, and teaching my 5th graders on Wednesday.

Despite the fact that this past Sunday was rough, and I had to get onto my 4th graders, I'm so glad I didn't back out. I am looking forward to this next Sunday, where I get to nurture them again in God's truth.

I'm also glad I didn't back out of leading my small group, even for just one day. When I showed up that night, I told them about my day and they were so encouraging and uplifting, and helped me realize that every one has those days, but we can't let them get us down.

And I'm so thankful I didn't decide to let one bad day sway me to stop helping out at Mission 56. I'm just counting down the hours until I get to help lead those kids in worship and teach them.

My heart is full and alive, happy to be serving and following God wherever He leads me, despite the temptations that are thrown in my way to get me to turn away.

Though my pastor and the worship leaders will never truly know how much they helped me (I did post about it on Facebook, but they don't know the depths of my struggle), I'm so thankful for them, and for them allowing God to use them to reach me, even on my darkest days.

And though my kids (both 4th graders and 5th graders) will probably never see this, I hope they know that even when I get upset with them, I love them deeply. They are some of the best, brightest kids I know and I look forward to teaching them each Sunday/Wednesday.

And lastly, to my small group, who also may not ever see this; I hope they realize just how thankful I am for their constant encouragement and prayer, even when I feel like the worst small group leader.

Don't give up. Even when you get in a sour mood, feel tempted to shirk your responsibilities, or just hide away in your room, don't give up.

Instead, say a simple prayer and ask for God's healing.

Because, He's been known to work miracles.

Loved and Cherished: What We All Desire

Fostering and adoption are both close to my heart, because it's something I grew up seeing. My parents were foster parents for a season when I was really young, and though they no longer foster, the passion to foster or adopt has developed within me because I have seen first-hand the good that can come from it.

Let me start this by saying: foster care is not as simple as it sounds. Most people think they just give children homes until somebody is willing to adopt that child. Though this is true to a point, it's also extremely difficult because you grow an attachment to the kids you're fostering, so when they are adopted, it's bittersweet. You're happy they've found a forever-home, but you also wish they didn't have to leave.

When I was in college, I did an informative speech comparing adoption and foster-parenting, and I was lucky enough to interview my mom for it. She told me that one of the things she liked the least about fostering were the visits each child had with their birth parents. "Every couple of weeks they would peel Jason off me, screaming and crying to go visit people he didn’t even know.  He and his brother Michael would be gone the entire day."

I can't even imagine how painful that experience must have been. What's worse is when you get attached to a child, are in the process of adopting, just for the system to send them back to the parents. This also happened to my parents. According to my mom, it almost tore our family apart.

I won't go into detail here, but this particular child's home-life was horrible. 6 months after being returned to her parents, she and her new-born baby brother were back in the system, covered in bruises.

I'll be the first to admit that the system doesn't always get it right. If the above case isn't an obvious example of the system getting it wrong, then I don't know what is.

But that's just another reason that I have such a passion for fostering and/or adopting. The system may not get it right all the time, but I could at least help out in some small way by taking kids into my home and showing them the kind of love a child deserves.

I have always wanted to adopt at least one child, maybe even two. There are so many children in the system right now who have no one on their side; they have no advocates fighting for their rights; they have nobody who love them unconditionally. If I could help reduce that number, even by just two kids, I think that's a victory.

No kid should wonder if they're loved. No kid should question if anybody cares. No kid should struggle to find their self-worth because someone else (namely, their parents) thought they were a waste of space, energy or time.

Honestly, nobody in the world - child or otherwise - should feel this way, because it can lead to a world of hurt.

Currently, I don't have the opportunity to foster or adopt. But one day, I hope that I can lean more towards doing one or both of these so that I can help the system get better.

As Edmund Burke said, "The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing."

How is the system ever going to get better if good people aren't willing to get involved? I understand that people don't want anything to do with a system that would send kids back into hostile environments where they could potentially be turned back into the system covered in bruises - it's a hard reality to face.

But, rather than doing nothing and complaining about how the system is being run, I hope to be a part of the process of making the system better. I hope that one day I can be involved so intrinsically that I have some influence in changing the viewpoint of the foster-care/adopting system.

And this doesn't necessarily have to change the entire system (though, I would not be opposed to changing it for the better), but if I can change the viewpoint of foster-care and adopting for a single child, then that's enough.

So many kids become bitter towards the system they're in because nobody has adopted or fostered them, that they begin to rebel. They start believing that nobody will want them anyway, so what's the point of being one 'worthy' of adoption?

And isn't that sad? That kids are in the system so long because good people don't want anything to do with a system that sometimes gets it wrong, that the kids believe that there's something wrong with them.

Hopefully this has opened your eyes some. Hopefully this has shown you that though the system gets it wrong sometimes, the kids shouldn't be blamed. They just want to be loved and cherished.

And, honestly, don't we all?

Love the Sinner

I get asked often, "As a Christian, what is your stance on homosexuality?"

Let me start by saying, I believe what the Bible teaches, and the Bible teaches that homosexuality is a sin: "You shall not lie with a male as with a woman; it is an abomination." - Leviticus 18:22, ESV.

That being said, it also teaches that lying is a sin. Stealing is a sin. Murder is a sin. Coveting something someone else has is a sin. Loving something or someone more than you love God is a sin (becomes an idol).

A sin is a sin is a sin. I'm a sinner for lying, just as much as the person who is homosexual is a sinner for going against God's Word and lying with a member of the same sex.

Now is where it gets tricky, though.

As a born-again Christian, I still sin. However, I do my best to not sin. I know lying is a sin, so I do my best not to lie. I know stealing is a sin, so I try to avoid doing it (see my previous blog post). But that's where the line is - I know it's wrong, so I do what I can to not do that. But when I do sin - which, let's be honest, is daily - I repent and ask God for forgiveness, because I know it's wrong and that it separates me from Him.

People who are homosexual, for the most part, believe that there's nothing wrong, so they don't bother trying to not do it. They don't repent and ask God for forgiveness, because they don't believe they need to be forgiven. Let me be clear: this is not a fair description of all people who identify as homosexual, I understand that, but from the ones I know, this is what they have told me. They feel like there's nothing wrong with being homosexual, so why should they repent?

That's where the difference is: as Christians, we realize that certain things are a sin and that we cannot have true fellowship with Christ with sin in our lives, so we repent and ask for forgiveness.

Does this mean that a homosexual person can't be a Christian? No. I firmly believe that anyone can be saved by Christ, no matter your ethnicity, race, sexual orientation, or gender. But, I also believe that in order to be a true follower, a person must love God, and to love God, we must follow His instructions, which include not having sexual relations with a member of the same gender.

"Love the LORD your God and keep His requirements, His decrees, His laws and His commands always." - Deuteronomy 11:1, NIV.

"In fact, this is love for God: to keep His commands. And His commands are not burdensome." - 1 John 5:3, NIV.

"And this is love, that we walk according to His commandments; this is the commandment, just as you have heard from the beginning, so that you should walk in it." - 2 John 1:6, ESV.

"If you love me, obey my commandments." - John 14:15, NLT.

Now, does this mean that we as Christians should hate those who choose to live in sin? Absolutely not.

Some of my best friends are homosexuals. Do I agree with their life choices? No. Do I still love them? Absolutely.

It's sad to say that one of them was actually scared to come out to me, because he had been scorned by the church he grew up in. We had been best friends for 14 years at this point (we met in kindergarten), and it took him posting something on social media for me to begin questioning about him.

Honestly, I didn't want to believe this about him, because back then, I was very narrow-minded and thought all homosexuals were going to Hell, and I didn't want to believe my best friend would end up there.

When I finally got the nerve to ask him about that post on social media, he replied saying that he didn't tell me sooner because he was scared of how I'd react. When he confirmed my fears, I didn't know how to respond. He then went on to tell me that he chose not to tell me because he had been scorned and turned away by his own church; they were determined that someone with a sin that great could never be saved, and therefore they didn't want him there anymore.

Isn't that horrible? He had grown up in this church, and just because he sinned differently than them, he was no longer welcome.

That was a slap in the face to me. I realized that my own narrow-mindedness almost cost me one of my best friends.

I still didn't know how to react, though. So, instead of immediately responding, I prayed. I prayed for discernment and wisdom and to know what I believed, and not what everybody else was telling me to believe, about the situation.

In the end, I came to the realization that I believe that, as stated previously, a sin is a sin is a sin. Yes, he sins differently than I do, but that doesn't mean I'm any less of a sinner than him. All sin separates us from God, so who was I to condemn my best friend when I was just as separated because I lied? All I was supposed to do was pray for him, as I would for anybody else who struggles with something.

When I finally responded, I told him that this changed nothing between us. I still loved him. I told him that, though I don't understand nor do I agree with his life-choice, I also wouldn't judge him for it.

He's still one of my best friends. Is he still gay? Yes. But, it's not my place to judge him. It's my place to love him and show him the love of Christ.

I've also heard it said that you can 'pray away the gay'. I'm not entirely sure what I believe on this. Honestly, it sounds horrible. It almost sounds like people think they can just pray for someone and they'll magically be different. And, yes, if God wanted it to be like that, He could do that. But, it also makes the person sound like they don't have much faith in God and His ability to work inside someone.

If we want a magical antidote to a fix that only God can do, there's a major issue. He isn't a magician on stage doing tricks for entertainment.

I believe that God gave us free will, so it would be the person's choice to decide, despite their feelings or temptations, they were going to lean on God during their struggle. And once they turn to God for help, then He begins working inside of them. Yes, we can pray that God will turn their hearts to Him and they will realize they need His help, but we can't 'pray the gay away'. That's complete nonsense, if you ask me.

So, instead of harboring hatred in our hearts for someone who sins differently than us, or believing that anything we do could possibly change their hearts, we need to show them the love of Christ. We don't need to make them feel like outcasts, because that's not showing them Christ, and that will definitely not turn them to Him.

Christ loved and welcomed the ones that everyone else scorned and left  behind. If we are going to be Christ-like, we should do the same.

Let's love the sinner, but hate the sin. And I think we'll all be surprised just how much impact that will have.