Remembering to #NeverForget


Only be careful, and watch yourselves closely so that you do not forget the things your eyes have seen or let them slip from your heart as long as you live. Teach them to your children and to their children after them. Deuteronomy 4:9

In the English Standard Version of the Bible, the word “remember” is used 162 times. The phrase “do not forget,” 15 times. Paul may encourage us to forget what is behind and press on toward what is ahead (Phil 3:13-14), but God is adamant that we also take the time to look back and remember. To think on the past, to recount His faithfulness. But also, I think, to ensure that we never forget the feelings and consequences, both positive and negative, that we encounter in life.

Why is God so insistent that we not forget?

Why do we so easily forget?

Some things, though, we want to forget. The feeling of traumatic events. The scars on our hearts, minds, and bodies that come with tragedy. The sights, sounds, and smells that remind us of the worst moments of our lives. Sometimes we are able to on most days; to move on with life, to see beyond the tragedy, to find a new normal.

I would dare say that most Americans have done just that in relation to 9/11. It is a part of us, but the impact of that day is now such a part of our daily lives that it is no longer in the forefront of our minds. The War on Terror is just the backdrop to our lives. It so defines our society that we hardly notice it; until it is thrust back in our faces.

This summer, it was thrust back into the face of my hometown. When I first heard about the attacks in Chattanooga in July, there were conflicting reports as to what was going on, and the worst scenario I heard was that recruitment centers in the South were on high alert due to “coordinated attacks.” My first thought was, “Not again.” I had forgotten, and that day forced me to remember.

#NeverForget has become a catchphrase in our society. Its use has mostly become satirical and sarcastic, a caricature of our society’s absurd reaction to non-events:

While the phrase is a humorous way to point out the absurdity of the things we deem tragedies, it is also a phrase that should remain on our lips about the things that really matter.

Today I saw firsthand why God tells His people so often to never forget and to always tell the story, whichever story that may be. I walked into a 6th grade classroom this afternoon as the teacher was telling his students that they had enough time to watch the “9/11 video” that he had told them about earlier in the class period. It’s been a while since I’ve seen the actual news footage of that day, and this video was a compilation of live news coverage at 9:03 am, when the second tower was hit.

My reaction to hearing and seeing it all again was unexpectedly physical. It took my breath. A cold chill swept over me with such power that my skin hurt from the goosebumps. I had to sit down.

But as I gathered myself, I looked at the students whose eyes were transfixed on the screen. They were silent, watching, soaking it in.

And it hit me.

This was probably the first time many were seeing this footage.

None of them were even alive on September 11, 2001, and until the last year or so, they weren’t really old enough to grasp the impact of the day. Maybe they had seen pictures or had talked about it in class each year, but 9/11 was just a date to them, a distant memory like the assassination of JFK is to me or the attack on Pearl Harbor is to my parents.

It was a 14 year old distant memory. That’s how quickly our collective memory can forget.

It had been just a story to them, but today it was real. It was real for them for the first time, and it was real for me again. Suddenly I was once again a terrified college student, away from home for the first time and acutely aware of being far from my family and close to Oak Ridge, TN, a nuclear facility that is a known high alert potential target. I was staring at cloudless and silent skies as flights were grounded for days. I was helpless because I couldn’t leave school to go to New York, and I couldn’t even donate blood because there were no survivors who needed it. I was desperate for connection with others.

I remember 9/11, but I had also forgotten 9/11. And our students had never known for themselves. I needed to be reminded, and they need to know.

THIS is why God tells us not only to remember but to also tell our children. If we don’t tell them, we forget. We forget His goodness. We forget the consequences of our bad choices. We forget the blessings of our obedience. We move on with life.

We forget. And they never know.

So how do we never forget? We teach. We tell. We remember, in community.

In order to remember, we must never forget, and to never forget, we must always remember.

Guest Post: Give Her Wings Book Review


As many of you know, I serve with a ministry called Give Her Wings, whose mission is to “raise gifts and money for mothers who have left abusive situations… to give these brave ladies a chance to get on their feet . . . to breathe . .. to heal their broken wings and fly free again.”

Megan Cox is the director of Give Her Wings, and is herself a survivor of domestic abuse. She tells her story and provides insight into the experiences of domestic and spiritual abuse in her book Give Her Wings: Help and Healing After Abuse.

I recently asked several friends in different areas of ministry to read Megan’s book and write a review for us that gave their response to the book and how they could see it being used in their particular ministry. 

The following is the response I received from Sarah Mitchell. Sarah and I attended seminary together and served alongside one another in a variety of ways during that time. Sarah has served overseas and is currently serving in the (more than) full time role of wife to Chris and mother to their three preschoolers. The Mitchell’s live in Salem, VA, where Chris is the pastor of Tabernacle Baptist Church.
A dear friend of mine knows how much I love to read and how I used to like to write…well, I still like to write, I think, but I haven’t in forever (something about 3 kids 4 and under!). Anyway, I digress already! So, Bekah asked me to read a new book, knowing that the book would be a helpful resource as a pastor’s wife in a local church.

Naturally I was excited to get to read a book that was both hot-off-the-press and a potentially useful resource. Little did I know how helpful this little beautifully written book would be over the last couple of months. A lady I know is currently struggling with the decision to stay in or leave an abusive relationship. Aside from praying through Scripture with her, which is, of course, the richest resource on the planet and applicable in every situation, I was clueless how to help her when she asked me for counsel and prayer, but that VERY SAME WEEK I received this book in the mail. The Lord’s timing is so utterly perfect and He obviously knew that I would need Give Her Wings: Help and Healing After Abuse by Megan D. Cox to give me a glimpse behind the curtain of someone who is struggling in a situation of abuse and to provide a practical guide for me as I walk this journey with my friend!

Things with my friend are complicated and fragile and I feel totally inadequate as her confidant and life-line, but God has very definitively crossed our paths and I know that obedience looks like helping her in whatever way I can. As I began to read Give Her Wings, I instantly loved Megan’s ability to share her personal story, truth from God’s Word, and practical advice both for the victim of abuse and the ones seeking to help her. Towards the beginning of the book, Cox writes some of the most life-giving words to encourage victims of abuse to come out of their situation into freedom. She says, “A seed must first die and be buried, then life comes…I was made to be free. That thought right there is the new life peeking out” (6). LIFE, and life more abundantly is what Christ offers to all of us and it is what we, those who are believers and ambassadors of the gospel have to offer others. Cox reminds her readers of that purpose over and over again throughout the book.

Complicated. Messy. Scary. Ugly. Dark. Those are words that describe the life victims of abuse long to leave behind. As encouragers, we offer the hope of life after abuse but it often requires personal sacrifice. To me one of the most profound statements Megan makes for those seeking to be helpers to victims is this: “There really is something to our lives being messy…Look into the life of one person you knows God and you will find a bit of chaos somewhere along the way…What unintentionally separated the wheat from the tares in my life was the fact that some people decided to get into our mess and get all muddied up” (45). I have a choice to make…I can run and hide and leave my new friend to fend for herself or I can hang in there, push up my sleeves, get on my knees, and really just be a friend. I know what Jesus did for those who had messy lives, He reached into their messes and just loved them. Cox calls us to do the same.

If those of us who are in full-time ministry or are involved in ministry at any level are at all tuned into what’s going on in the lives of those whom God has surrounded us, then we will likely run across people who need us to get into their messy lives and help. And Megan Cox doesn’t mean fix them or their situation. No. In fact she will tell us that we can’t fix it and that fixing it isn’t ultimately the point. The point, according to Cox, is to love them well. We need to be available, loyal, truthful, and pointers to the One who made them and loves them. Cox writes, “Tell her [the victim] that God does not wish anyone to be abused. She needs to know this right away…If she understand that Jesus cares about the pain and loves her, the seeds are planted for her to be able to separate an abusive husband from the true God who loves her” (90).

I definitely found Megan’s book to be a useful tool for those who are counseling women who are victims of abuse or as a healing balm for those who have been or are involved in an abusive relationship. It’s a brilliant diamond hewn out of the rough grit of her personal experience leaving behind a life of abuse and straining toward the abundant life the Lord had planned for her. It’s a unique resource because Megan artfully weaves excerpts from her own journey in and around and through scripturally anchored advice and how-to’s. I highly recommend and urge those who are in women’s ministry or in church leadership in any capacity to read Give Her Wings. It is a must-have resource for the Church as we seek to demonstrate Christ-like love toward the hurting and the broken and the ones being put back together piece by beautiful piece.

The Law and Love


I’m not a rule follower. Some of my friends find true joy in following the rules and rest comfortably in the center of set boundaries. Those friends and I confirm the adage that opposites attract. If a hard and fast rule is placed before me, I will challenge it, question it, examine it for loopholes, discuss it with the rule maker… In my old age, I will follow the rule if it’s not immoral and is a part of participating in a group with which I align myself, but that has not always been the case. The concept of civil disobedience is thrilling to me. I’ll take your consequences if it shines light on your injustice.

 It’s not that I’m against rules. I’m just against unnecessary rules.

And I think God is, too.

Here’s the thought I’m pondering: if we are to love like God, we should take note of the fact that the more He revealed Himself, the more people could know Him, the FEWER the rules He put on them. I mean, we went from God’s 10 Commandments to 700-something man made laws, to God stepping in and instead giving us a Savior and TWO commands– love God, love others.

If we are interacting and loving like God, should we let fellow believers “off the hook” as they demonstrate a growing walk with God? Can we better love one another by giving the benefit of the doubt when we are concerned about a situation involving a brother or sister in Christ?

What say ye?

Fearless?


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Four weeks ago, a friend from Beauty for Ashes invited me to join a Facebook group called “One Word.” It is a group of women who declared one word that summed up their goals, dreams, and prayers for 2015.

I boldly posted my word: “FEARLESS.”

I want to walk this year in a spirit of power and a sound mind.

I want to enjoy serving without the distraction/crutch of my own school work.

I want to quit waiting for my life to begin and I want to LIVE, now and well.

I want to embrace who I am, strengths and weaknesses, struggles and victories, propensities and empowerment.

I want to lead and teach and serve and see new parts of the world and unexplored areas of my own life and potential.

I want to shatter my fear of “when” and “what if” and LIVE.

Three weeks after declaring my word “fearless,” one of my best friends from high school delivered twins, and I spent days seriously contemplating how I felt about the prospect of motherhood not being part of my journey in this life. At 35, motherhood has a real expiration date that is no longer an abstract idea. And for me, that is not a fear inducing possibility.

Being single doesn’t scare me, not having my own kids doesn’t leave me with a sense of being incomplete or less than. Truth be told, I like being free to serve others, and, selfishly, to not serve when I can’t– or just don’t want to.

While singleness or childlessness does not scare me, what is terror inducing is the phone call I received the day after I met those babies this week. I learned that my home study is being considered, not for fostering, but for adopting. A 16 year old.

FEAR. What do you with a 16 year old?!? I spend 8-12 hours a day with them in a classroom and on a court, but at home???

Do I trust He has my best interest at heart, knows my end from BEFORE the beginning?

I’ve had many friends open up about their sexual identity and attractions and struggles, and I’ve started talking more candidly in small groups when people ask why I’m still single. But I fearfully wonder, “Can I REALLY be open with others about who I am, what my struggles are, without fear of their responses?”

Can I be honest about the fact that fearlessness is a front, a wall that protects my insecurities from a watching world?

“Fearless” is a tested word. And test day is here.

Tested in my seriousness in my declared desire of sharing my life with a child who needs a family.

Tested in being honest within community about who I am and how God is working that out in me.

But there is great comfort in knowing that the test giver is the perfect Teacher, and He never passes us unprepared on to the next level.

I will pass this test, walking fearlessly, no matter how many times I must be tested until I pass it.

Jerusalem


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This afternoon I went to see National Geographic’s IMAX movie “Jerusalem.” While mentioning the Jebusites, the earliest known inhabitants of the land, the film focused on the histories of the three current faiths which share the city: Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. Throughout the film, Jews and Muslims who live in the city stated repeatedly that their faiths believe Jerusalem is the place on earth closest to God, that on that one particular spot, humanity can be heard by the Creator.

As I watched and listened, however, the words of the man responsible for building the first Temple for the Jewish people kept rolling in my mind:
“But will God indeed dwell on the earth? Behold, heaven and the highest heaven cannot contain you; how much less this house that I have built!” ~Solomon (1 Kings 8:27)

We serve a God not limited by location.

But then Isaiah foretold, “Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign. Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel” (7:14).

And Matthew explained, “20 But as he considered these things, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream, saying, “Joseph, son of David, do not fear to take Mary as your wife, for that which is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit.
21 She will bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.”
22 All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had spoken by the prophet:
23 “Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall call his name Immanuel” (which means, God with us) (Chapter 1).

Muslims and Jews revere Jerusalem as the place humanity can reach God.

Christians celebrate it as the place God came down to man.

Will God indeed dwell on the earth?

Yes, Solomon, the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, just as He said He would.