Author: Amy Medina Page 21 of 231

Analyzing My Allegiance

There are two things I remember about chapel in third grade at my Christian school in California.

First, I remember the enormous, wall-sized, stained glass window of Jesus praying in the garden of Gethsemane. Jesus hovered over us as we sang “Whose side are you leaning on?” in the padded pews. 

Second, I remember we started every chapel by pledging allegiance to the American flag and the Christian flag. In that order. 

I never questioned this exercise, of course, as kids never do. And after all, I was leaning on the Lord’s side. And after all, I didn’t want to mess around with wall-sized Jesus. 

But as I think back on this routine, now I have questions. Why, at our Christian school, did we put our hands over our hearts and pledge allegiance to a country? This regimen is actually pretty unusual among democratic countries. Isn’t that something that children are required to do in, say, communist countries? In fact, don’t we teach children to celebrate the biblical heroes who refused to “pledge allegiance” to government powers? 

And, why did we always pledge allegiance to the American flag (and to the Republic for which it stands) first and pledge allegiance to the Christian flag (and to the Savior for which it stands) second? Doesn’t that subtly communicate a certain set of priorities?

Things that make you go hmmm.

The Scariest Prayer

I pray for America.

I pray that this country would be a safe place, that a gunman won’t shoot up my grocery store or my kids’ school, that bad guys in here would be put behind bars and bad guys out there would keep their nuclear weapons to themselves. I pray that we would have leaders with integrity who love freedom and unborn babies and poor people. I pray that earthquakes and droughts and hurricanes will keep their distance, and that America will prosper and flourish.

And more importantly,

I pray that the gospel of Jesus Christ will take root in this land. I pray that millions will bow their knees and give praise to their Creator. I pray for revival, for regeneration, for transformation.

But what if, in order to answer the more important prayer, God must allow  

gunmen

nuclear weapons

financial collapse

natural disasters

What if these are the means of answering the more important prayer? 

So, even though it scares me, I must pray, Your will be done.

On Getting the American Dream

We bought a house. We moved in last week.

I chose not to tell you the details as they were emerging, mostly because we had already had our hopes dashed before and because there were many times in the process when we weren’t sure it would go through. But it did, and here we are.

It feels kind of like a small miracle. The housing market is crazy right now, at least it is in our area. Our realtor told us that houses were selling in a day, usually for over the asking price. So when we got our loan pre-approved in January, we started looking right away, figuring it would take awhile before we found something that worked for our budget. This was the first house we looked at. We saw it a day after it went on the market, and we put in an offer the day after that. Since we had several months to think about where we wanted to live and what kind of house we were looking for, we knew that this one checked all the boxes. 

We didn’t think we would get it, but we did. There were multiple offers, and we weren’t the highest offer, but for some reason the seller decided to invite us to meet the higher offer anyway. I have no idea why, other than God’s kindness.

One Year Ago March

March 2020: Corona virus comes to Tanzania

Grace, who is 15, told me about a conversation she had with an old friend. “She asked me how my year had been going,” Grace said. “And I told her about all the new things in my life and the things that have changed.” Suddenly her face crumpled. “And I realized, I’ve been through a lot, haven’t I?”

Yes, my girl, you have been through a lot. 

The earth has made its way around the entirety of the sun since last March, which means we are headed towards all the anniversaries. March 13–the last day I was on campus with my students. March 19–the day we were told we had to leave. March 25–the day we left Tanzania. The emotional impact of each of those days left a yawning hole that has yet to be filled. 

I don’t like remembering it. I’ve related the story of March 2020 to friends several times; I’ve re-read the account I wrote. It doesn’t take much to pull me back into the grief and bewilderment and shock all over again. I wonder how long it will take before I can think about it without feeling it. 

The Invasion Robbery and the Power of Fear

Gil and I had lived in Tanzania for about a year when missionary friends asked us to house-sit (and dog-sit) for a couple of nights. These friends lived in a large, two story house that they often used to host teams, so it felt like a vacation for us. 

We spent the day watching movies from their VHS collection (this was 2002!), and went to bed that night in the downstairs corner room that our hosts had set up for us. Their Schnauzer dog, Stanley, was on the second floor landing, sleeping in his crate. 

At around 5:00 the next morning, I was awakened by the distinct sound of metal scraping against metal. The kitchen door was adjacent to our bedroom, and very clearly, I could hear the iron security grate screeching open. 

My heart stopped. What I had been dreading was actually happening: We were experiencing an invasion robbery. 

We knew a number of friends who had experienced this terror. A gang of thieves entered their homes in the middle of the night, tying up the family, sometimes injuring them, while they robbed the house of its valuables. For the whole year we had lived in Tanzania, I had been terrified that this might happen to us. Now it was. 

Page 21 of 231

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