Tag: Fear Page 6 of 7

Sometimes Africa Scares Me

On October 11, 2015

Africa and me, we have trust issues. I love this continent, but sometimes it scares me.

When I was 13, rebels took over the government of Liberiaand started a civil war. My family was on home assignment at the time, but all the other missionaries were evacuated. Our house was looted, the mission station was bombed, and I never got to say good-bye.

We relocated to Ethiopia, and I went to boarding school in Kenya. I was fourteen. The students were told to keep a bag packed of essentials; something that we could carry for at least a mile in case of an evacuation. I don’t even remember why we were told this; I think it had something to do with the Gulf War.

While I was in Kenya, a revolution started in Ethiopia. My mom and my brother were evacuated. My dad stayed behind, and spent his nights sleeping with some other men in a windowless hallway. One day in our apartment, he watched a stray bullet come through the roof.

Now we’ve been 11 years in Tanzania. It’s one of the only countries in Africa which has been peaceful since it’s independence–over 50 years now. For about 20 years, it had a socialist government, but in the mid-80’s, it became a democracy. However, since then, it’s been primarily a one-party government. During past elections, there’s only ever been one viable candidate for president. Makes the voting process pretty simple.

Until this year. For the first time in Tanzania’s history, two candidates are running for president. (Interestingly, one of them happens to be the grandfather of one of Grace’s best friends.) This is the third election cycle we’ve witnessed, and it’s strange to see two faces plastered on billboards instead of one.

Because of this, people are nervous. Will this election mirror other African countries? Will there be rioting and violence? Just a few years ago, 1000 people were killed in election violence in Kenya, our neighbor to the north.

A few weeks ago, our house worker asked me, “Will you stay in Tanzania in October?”

“Of course,” I answered. But her question made me anxious.

All universities are closed until November. We cancelled our training classes for this month. We’ve been carefully reading news updates and memos from outside agencies. One of them suggested, “Pack a bag of essentials.” It feels all too familiar.

The elections are two weeks from today. But what can we do? We stock our pantries; we fill up our gas tanks. And we pray: for peace, and for a government with integrity. We pray for safety but remember that’s not always the most important thing. Instead, that the gospel might go forth, no matter what.

The king’s heart is a stream of water in the hand of the Lord; he turns it wherever he will.

Thy will be done; on earth as it is in heaven.

When I Am Not Sane

By Amy Medina

On October 1, 2015

In Other

“If you look for truth, you may find comfort in the end; if you look for comfort you will not get either comfort or truth, only soft soap and wishful thinking to begin, and in the end, despair.” (C.S. Lewis)

On any given day, I am somewhere on the mental illness spectrum. This is a spectrum of my own design, as I am not an expert in diagnosing psychological problems. All I know is, by spending a lot of time in my own brain, and part of that time in what would be labeled mental illness, that’s there’s not always a clear line between sane and insane. It’s usually a combination of both.

In recent years, most of the time I have been fine. My emotions are under control. I get tired and anxious or discouraged, but usually a new morning gives me new perspective. There are times, though, when I can feel myself slipping down that spectrum. Since I’ve been at Ground Zero before, I know what it feels like to slide.

When the future looms dark and seeks to consume me.

When anxiety strangles my ability to face what is in front of me.

When discouragement becomes failure, which becomes hopelessness.

I know what it feels like to have Emotion become Reality. Where everything, all aspects of life, are so consumed by that Emotion that it defines what is Real. Where your brain is a black abyss and you are falling but you can’t scream because you don’t know how.

It’s there, in the slide, that what I believe matters more than anything.

What I’ve learned about emotions is that I can rebuke them. I can take them firmly by the scruff of the neck and demand that they submit. But that will only be successful if I am 100% confident that what I am yelling at them is Truth.

God is in control! He is powerful. He is sovereign. He is good. He loves me. I have been rescued. I can forgive because He forgave me. I can persevere because He gives me the strength. Everything that happens to me has purpose. This life is not all there is. The best is yet to come!

The things my emotions yell at me are not true. The fear, the despair, the hopelessness….they are not Reality. My brain does not create Truth. Truth exists outside my brain and I will not allow my emotions to call the shots.

Some days, the fight isn’t there at all. Other days, the battle is fierce. Sometimes, I just retreat–into chocolate, or television, or a nice big pity party with balloons and cake. But if I want to win–if I want victory–it all comes down to what I believe, and how firmly I believe it.

The problem is that when I am high on the spectrum and feeling good, Truth doesn’t matter to me so much. Because who cares? But the hard work must be done there–the wrestling, the working out, the strengthening of my convictions–because otherwise, it all will collapse under the weight of my emotions when I slide further down.

I realize it’s not always simple. Traumatic experiences, personality, hormones, medication….all influence that slide, and sometimes the battle needs outside help. If I ever get to Ground Zero again, I will get help a lot sooner than I did the first time. But my first line of offense would be to get others in my life to help me fight the battle for what is True.

Here’s to finding and believing the Truth. Want to join me?

“Alcohol is a depressant–it deadens parts of the rational brain. The happiness you may feel when you are drunk comes because you are less aware of reality. [God], however, gives you joyful fearlessness by making you more aware of reality. It assures you that you are a child of the only One whose opinion and power matters. He loves you to the stars and will never let you go.” (Tim Keller)

This is Why I Am Pro-Life, Not Just Anti-Abortion

By Amy Medina

On August 6, 2015

In Other

Start with the Right Argument

Guess what? This generation, everybody knows that a fetus is a human life. Pro-Lifers need to stop thinking it’s a convincing argument against abortion.

Pro-choice advocates no longer try to convince people that a fetus is just a blob of tissue. 3-D ultrasounds fixed that notion long ago. Maybe there’s some uneducated 15-year-old girl out there who still thinks that, but not the abortion advocates.

Science has proven that life begins at conception. It’s not contested anymore.

The real question at stake today is whether the unborn child is a person. This is where the real debate begins.

“‘The question is not really about life in any biological sense,’ intones Yale professor Paul Bloom….’It is instead asking about the magical moment at which a cluster of cells becomes more than a mere physical thing.'” (***see below for source of this and all further quotations)

“Princeton ethicist Peter Singer acknowledges that ‘the life of a human begins at conception.’ But ‘the life of a person–a being with some level of self-awareness–does not begin so early.'”

If our universe has materialistic origins, then the human body is nothing more than a disposable, yet complex machine, and our personhood is a mysterious entity that is separate from the body. This split worldview began in the Enlightenment and has been subconsciously absorbed by most westerners. Our biological body can be manipulated like any other machine to match up with our unseen person. Just because a human is alive doesn’t mean he’s a person. Thus, the pregnant woman, an established person, should not have to sacrifice her well-being for the sake of a non-person, the fetus.

Ask the Right Question

Pro-Lifers….you’ve got to stop using the argument, “It’s life, so therefore it’s murder.” It’s falling on deaf ears! The real question is, “What makes a person?”

And that question, right there, is the best one to ask in an abortion discussion. Because guess what? No one really knows the answer. And that’s dangerous. “Once personhood is separated from biology, no one can agree how to define it.” It won’t just stop at unborn children.

“James Watson, co-discoverer of the DNA double helix, recommended waiting until after birth [to call a baby a person] and giving a newborn baby three days of genetic testing before deciding whether it should be allowed to live. For Singer, personhood remains a ‘gray’ area even at three years of age.”

If an unborn baby is not a person, then what about anyone who is a burden on society? What about children born with disabilities? What about terminally ill people? What about mentally ill people? What about the poor? What about the elderly? Who gets to decide who is a person with a right to life?

Why I Really Must Stick My Nose Into Other People’s Business

A political candidate’s view on abortion is, unequivocally, the most important issue for me in any election. Not because it’s the only important issue in our society, but because it’s the most vital indication of worldview. How does the candidate define a person? If he won’t defend the most vulnerable members of our society as having the right to life, then how can I be sure he will defend anyone else’s rights?

“Liberals sometimes say, ‘If you’re against abortion, don’t have one. But don’t impose your views on others.’ At first, that might sound fair. But what liberals fail to understand is that every social practice rests on certain assumptions of what the world is like–on a worldview. When a society accepts the practice, it absorbs the worldview that justifies it. That’s why abortion is not merely a matter of private individuals making private choices. It is about deciding which worldview will shape our communal life together.”

What Does the Pro-Life Position Have to Offer?

The pro-life position is by far the most humanizing worldview out there. A human is a person and a person is a human. There is no dichotomy. If I become disabled, I will still be a person. If I am in a coma, I will still be a person. If I become elderly and frail with drool coming out of my mouth, I will still be a person. If I become pregnant, a new person forms inside of me with an equal value of personhood. Whether or not I choose to raise that person, he or she has a right to life.

“The pro-choice position is exclusive. It says that some people don’t measure up, don’t make the cut. They don’t qualify for the rights of personhood. By contrast, the pro-life position is inclusive. If you are a member of the human race, you’re ‘in.’ You have the dignity and status of a full member of the moral community.”

Are You Pro-Life or Just Anti-Abortion?

Listen, Pro-Lifers. This is where our passionate arguments often fall flat. It’s got to be more than a political position. It’s got to be a lifestyle. Don’t just be anti-abortion. Pro-life means pro-foster care. Pro-adoption. Pro-hospice care. Pro-Pregnancy Center. Pro-Single Mom Ministry. Pro-job training. Pro-Special Needs Ministry.

Picketing only does so much. Voting on election day only does so much. Are we just anti-abortion? Or actually Pro-Life? Are we willing to carry these “burdens to society?” We are asking women with unplanned pregnancies to make a huge sacrifice. Are we willing to walk alongside and sacrifice with them?

Ah, sweet boy, they tell us that now you know that you are getting a family, and you are so excited! We can’t wait….hopefully any day now!

***All quotations are taken from Saving Leonardo by Nancy Pearcey, who has been the most influential voice in my life on this subject. Read her brilliant book.

We Are Not Safe

By Amy Medina

On April 8, 2015

In Other

I was awake a long time on Thursday night, thinking about Garissa.

Thinking about 147 lives taken. Kenya is a country where less than half of all young people attend high school, where less than 10% actually graduate from high school. These students were the best and brightest of their country. The hope of many families to escape poverty. The hope of their country. Have you taken a look at some of their faces?

Thinking about the trauma. Mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters. There were only 815 students at Garissa University. 17% were murdered. Seventeen percent. Every student knows someone gone. Hundreds more forever traumatized, in a country where there is no team of counselors to rush in.

Thinking about how we live in the neighboring country south of Kenya. Thinking about the Christian school my kids attend. Imagining scenarios. I am not a creative person, but it’s amazing how imaginative I can be about terrorism.

Kenyans are justifiably angry. They are demanding more security at their schools. “We are not safe!” Kenyan students chanted Tuesday.

We are not safe. Was there ever a truer statement?

We like to think that we are safe. We long for it, and we are lulled into it by the locks on our doors and the airbags in our cars. We like feeling safe, and we like to pretend we are safe because it’s just too hard to be afraid all the time.

Until something happens close to us. Columbine, 9/11, Sandy Hook….they made Americans feel unsafe. Garissa is too far away for Americans to be affected, but it’s close to me. So yeah, it makes me feel unsafe. Terrorism accomplishes what it sets out to do, doesn’t it? Incite terror.

The funny thing is, nothing has actually changed about my life. The danger I am in now is the same that it was a week ago. It’s just the facade of safety that has crumbled. I see my world differently. I know, from experience, that after a couple weeks with no other incident, I’ll pretend once again that I am safe, and I’ll feel pretty good about life.

Which is why these sorts of things are good for me. They jolt me out of my cardboard fortress, and remind me of the reality of life. I am not safe. I never will be. There is nothing I can ever do differently to make myself, and my children, entirely safe. I live in a world that is completely out of my control.

I need this reminder. Because it forces me to take my eyes off the waves and onto my Savior.

The Lord is my light and my salvation–

whom shall I fear?

The Lord is the stronghold of my life–

of whom shall I be afraid?

Though an army besiege me,

my heart will not fear;

though war break out against me,

even then I will be confident.

My safety is in my salvation. My confidence is in knowing this is not my eternal home.

When God Doesn’t Show Up

By Amy Medina

On January 27, 2015

In Other

Our dog Frodo ran away while we were on vacation. Our gardener, Paul, was looking after Frodo while we were gone. He opened the gate only one time that week. When he did, Frodo bolted. This was very uncharacteristic for Frodo, so it totally took Paul by surprise.

Paul was devastated. He looked awful when we came home. He spent days looking for Frodo. We put up fliers and offered a reward. We prayed God would bring him back. But now it’s been a month, and there’s no trace of him.

More bad news came our way. We’ve been working for years to adopt a fourth child. There’s an empty place in our family. We were thrilled when we found a Tanzanian friend familiar with the Social Welfare department who was willing to advocate for us. Recently he gave us the unfortunate news that even he has not gotten anywhere. They are steadfastly refusing, even though we’ve proven a fourth adoption is legal. There is no one else we can appeal to. It seems hopeless. We are coming to grips with the fact that it may not happen.

There’s other hard things. The list is long, but some are at the front of my mind. It’s been exactly one year since Jeremiah died. We have a sister with a hematoma. We have close friends who at this moment are standing on a precipice, waiting for God to show up. If He doesn’t, the fall will be disastrous. Too terrible to think about.

Why didn’t God answer our prayers to bring back Frodo?

Why hasn’t He given us a fourth child when there are millions of orphans in this country?

Why did he allow Jeremiah to die?

If we lived in a world of random chance, then these events would be understandable. They wouldn’t make sense; they would still make us sad and mad, but we could chalk it all up to the whims of the universe.

But I don’t believe in a world of random chance; I believe in an all-powerful God who created everything that is, and I believe He is good and every event has purpose. Yet when dogs run away and children languish in orphanages and babies fall out of windows, it’s easy to wonder about whether that all-powerful, good God actually exists. Or that He actually cares.

So how do I reconcile my faith in a good God with the horrors of this world? When I pray and beg and all I get is silence?

All of us, every single person in this world, believe some things on fact and some on faith. It’s up to each of us to discern which parts are worth staking our lives upon.

For me, it starts with the facts:

First, I look around me and I see a Designer’s watermark on DNA and leaf-cutter ants and glow-in-the-dark jellyfish.

Next, I look to Jesus, and I am convinced that his resurrection is one of the most verifiable facts of history. And since it can be verified, then that means I can believe everything Jesus said, and it means I can trust the Bible.

Then, I look into the Bible and I see that it mirrors what really is going on in my soul. I see that it gives a reliable portrait of history and an honest description of humanity. It has the ring of Truth.

Finally, I check out the other options. No other worldview comprehensively explains the simultaneous beauty and evil in this world. No other worldview offers a solution to humanity’s insatiable thirst for redemption.

When challenged as to whether he would leave Jesus, Peter said, Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. I get that.

Since I’ve got the facts cemented in my soul, then I can layer the faith on top.

I can trust that God is in control.

I can trust that He is good.

I can trust His promises:

….that I can’t see everything He sees.

….that sometimes He’s got a bigger plan than I can imagine.

….that He knows better than I do.

….that He will work everything out for good.

I can trust that even when it looks like God isn’t showing up, that doesn’t mean He hasn’t. It just might not fit my time frame or my expectations of what showing up is supposed to look like.

The longer I live my life, and the more I am challenged to live out that faith, the more I am shown that what I believe is True. My faith (on a foundation of facts) actually transforms into more facts as experience confirms over and over again that what I believe is trustworthy.

And that’s why, when faced with lost dogs, or adoptions that won’t happen, or a dear friend who still mourns her Jeremiah, I can trust my God in the dark. Where else would I go?