Tag: Fear Page 6 of 7

When the Horror Story Doesn’t Happen

On October 17, 2015

I’m sure you’ve all heard adoption horror stories. You know a cousin’s friend’s sister who brought home a child who made everyone’s lives a living hell.

The stories can be true, and they scare a lot of people away from adoption.

But today, I want to counter those stories with one that is just the opposite. This is my boy Johnny, who came home just two months ago, and two months shy of his fourth birthday.

Johnny sleeps in his own bed, in the room that he shares with his brother. He sleeps 11 hours every night and doesn’t wake up until morning.

Johnny has an incredible attention span. He can sit on the floor, by himself, with a 50 piece puzzle, and put it together and take it apart 5 times before he needs something else to do. He can sit quietly in church or during his siblings’ school productions.

Johnny is hysterically funny. He dances. He wiggles his hips. He loves being chased. He loves being tickled. He is Mr. Enthusiastic. When I tell him dinner is ready, you would think he had won the lottery. When he sees a car come into the driveway, he shouts, “Friends! Friends are here!” as if it was the president himself. When he burps, hiccups, or passes gas, he giggles and says, “I’m grumpy!” which has now officially become a part of our family’s vocabulary. When I am gone for 5 hours or 5 minutes, he runs to me and declares, “I missed you!”

Our older kids adore him. He plays well with them, but he also plays well by himself. He eats everything on his plate. He rarely whines. He rarely gets angry. Sure, he is not perfect. When the kid wants to be stubborn, he can be stubborn. But that’s happening less and less as he gets to know us and we get to know him.

If you’ve read this blog for any length of time, you know I don’t sugarcoat things. I try to tell it as it is, while still trying to keep my kids’ privacy. So let me assure you that I’m not exaggerating. Johnny fit into our family like one of those puzzle pieces he loves to put together. It’s only been two months, but it’s like he’s always been here.

Sure, the first few weeks were tough. But I have been blown away by how quickly he has settled in, especially considering his history. He has adapted much faster, actually, than some of our other children who came home much younger than he did.

Older child adoption can be tricky, and if you are considering it, you’ve got to keep your eyes wide open and prepare yourself for the worst. But it also could be the best thing that’s ever happened to your family. Because that’s how Johnny feels to all of us.

We celebrated Johnny’s fourth birthday yesterday. It’s pretty special to celebrate with a kid who has never had a birthday party of his own, and never opened a present he could keep.

Personally, I think Johnny’s pretty happy being a son. And we’re pretty happy to make him one.

Johnny’s new bike was definitely a highlight of his day!

Celebrating at Water World

Johnny and his buddy Danny. Danny and Johnny are almost the same age, and Danny was adopted from Forever Angels just three months before Johnny. Danny’s mom and I are friends, so we were really excited when we realized that the boys definitely remember each other, and are so happy any time they are together.

FIVE kids adopted out of Forever Angels!

This is the kind of stuff you get to do when there are no rules at the water park.

And this: Four kids and a Dad on one tube.

Sometimes Africa Scares Me

By Amy Medina

On October 11, 2015

In Other

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.