Hang on!

Hark, the voice of Jesus crying,

"Who will go and work today?

Fields are ripe and harvests waiting;

who will bear the sheaves away?” (LSB 826)

It is Father’s day and I am sitting at home with the kids doing my vocational duties as wife and mother. My husband is in a town 6 hours away and wont be back home until the festival day is over. My own father is way too far away and I don’t even know when I will get to see him again. I do what I can but I can’t help but feel sorry for where I am at.

I try to turn my attention to something else and I put on my home congregation worship and watch on-line. The hymn “Hark, the Voice of Jesus Crying” was the hymn of the day and all I could think was; “I want to go home!” I used to love that hymn! I used to feel convicted, compelled, and called when we would sing that hymn, now I feel the weight of the law. Living over seas and doing my best each day to keep two little children alive and survive the demands of living within the Church, I would say I feel burdened more than called. 

It is a wonderful thing faith is not based on our feelings. It has been over two years now since the last time I have been able to see my family and every day the news paints my home in such a way that makes me wonder what I will be coming back to when and if I do get to come home. With each passing day it becomes my desire to do just that; “go home.” 

I confess that when I listen to sermons I often get lost in the text and dissect it in my head; my poor husband is well acquainted with this flaw. It is a flaw from studying theology and sometimes a saving grace to be able to preach law and gospel to my own soul. Today the text talked about the demon possessed man who was healed by Christ and sought to follow him as a response to being healed. Christ’s response was; “Go home.” Obviously there is more to that text but that was what my heart and mind clung to. “Go home.” Why were those the words my mind spoke during the great missional hymn and the same spoken in the Gospel? Perhaps because it is what we all need to hear in one way or another. 

Recently I have been crying at communion more and my ever mounting list of prayers has been reduced to “Come Lord Jesus! Please Come and take us home!” The fields seem as though they have been taken over with thorns, the hired help is at a loss for what is the most important task at this point and we would take a simple word of comfort and good news to our heavy hearts as opposed to a command of “Work! Work more! Keep working!” (cities lie waste without inhabitant, and houses without people, and the land is a desolate waste -Is. 6:11). Home looks really good.

 Perhaps what we all need to hear is; “hang on!” I am starting to think that in this day and age, what we need most is to hold on tight to Jesus because the boat is rocking and the waves are crashing. There is precious little that we can do apart from clinging to Jesus because in the end, it is Jesus who will bring us home. No enlistment, no quota, you are probably doing enough if all you can do is fix your eyes on Jesus, and that is your witness. Struggling though life, though doubt, through troubles and turmoils while focusing on Jesus is enough to shine a light in a darkened world. 

Home is near, and Christ is nearer. Hang on to Him, it is enough. 

2 Corinthians 5:1-4

Our Heavenly Dwelling

For we know that if the tent that is our earthly home is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. 2 For in this tent we groan, longing to put on our heavenly dwelling, 3 if indeed by putting it on[a] we may not be found naked. 4 For while we are still in this tent, we groan, being burdened—not that we would be unclothed, but that we would be further clothed, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life.

Water, Word, and Warfare

"Johann means “Yahweh is gracious” (from Hebrew “yo/יֹו”, abbreviation of “yeho/יְהוֹ” = referring to the Hebrew God + “ḥanán/חָנַן” = to show favor/to be gracious)."

https://charlies-names.com/en/johann/

First, we would like to humbly thank everyone who prayed for us while we passed through everything with Johann. We are thankful for all the prayers during labor and for all those who prayed for him two weeks after his birth while we were hospitalized. It has certainly been more activity in the first month of life than we anticipated. The following is some of the realizations I had while I was with Johann throughout the two weeks of hospitalization. 

We choose the name Johann for its meaning. We wanted our children’s names to reflect a spiritual pilgrimage dependent upon God. Johann was conceived after a miscarriage and a year of covid-19. He indeed is a reflection to us of God’s grace and it is our hope and prayer that he reflects this for others throughout his life. However we are quickly discovering that God’s grace sometimes doesn’t seem all good and just. His grace, sometimes, comes in the midst of suffering.

We had planned a water birth for Johann but were doubtful at one point if we would even be able to have him naturally. Johann pushed the time limit allowed from when my water broke to when he was born. It was 66 hours of wakefulness and praying that our baby wouldn’t have to be born by emergency cesarian. Johann was born into infected waters. The remedy would come two weeks later. We thanked the Lord for His grace in the midst of labor and delivery and that we were able to bring Johann into the world as a family. 

We wanted Johann to be baptized shortly after birth as a way of making confession of how we understand God’s graciousness; that He would bury us in Christ and give us new life without any of our own merit or doing. Of Johann’s godparents, only one was able to come for the baptism, and she was confirmed Lutheran only a few weeks before to enjoy a fuller communion with her godchild and a better understanding of how we hope to raise our child. At the last minute, by circumstances outside our control, her arrival was delayed to a week later and so was Johann’s baptism. 

We were able to rejoice in a second water birth two weeks after the first. Johann was baptized and it was a joyous celebration. The next day however, Johann was with a very high fever and by divine providence the midwife made an unplanned visit (she was supposed to come one day earlier). She sent us directly to the hospital with little Johann so he could get medical attention. We were caught off guard completely and if left on our own we probably would have waited for the fever to go down not realizing how serious it could be. As many already know, Johann had a bacterial infection that the doctors said in most cases can come from the birthing process. While every precaution can be taken it’s never a sure and certain thing that illnesses and infections have been avoided. 

So we prayed again for the safe delivery of our son. The terrifying thing for me was holding a sick child who had recently ascended from the waters of holy baptism while trusting that even if the worst came to pass, my child had already been delivered. He was and is saved by the grace of God and that is terrifying. Just as I believe we don’t make a choice in our salvation, we don’t get to choose when we are called home to be with Christ. I didn’t want to face the reality of my confession; that I believe that God holds my child safe within His care and that even if I should loose him, God will “fold him to His breast, there within His arms to rest.” I didn’t want God’s grace in that moment, I wanted my son. I cried to God through the whole first night of our hospital stay until my eyelids were swollen. 

It is difficult to believe that even while walking through the hell of caring for a helpless sick child, God is present, and yet it is the promise He gives us in baptism. There were moments I didn’t know how to pray or what to pray because I didn’t want to acknowledge the same gracious God who gave His only son to save us could be the same God that would make me depend on that grace while suffering the loss of my own son. Johann lives, and I am thankful for the mercy God showed us while in treatment. I do have a new understanding of God’s grace and pray that I can grow to see it not as something to be feared for what I can temporarily loose but as goodness in all moments. God is indeed gracious, He forgives and grants life, and He hears the prayers of the saints when we don’t know how to pray. Again, thank you all so much for your prayers. 

This hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast, and which enters the Presence behind the veil  Hebrews 6:19

NKJV

This is the way.

2 Corinthians 3:18

And we all, who with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.

My husband and I started watching ‘The Mandalorian’ at the start of quarantine. If you don’t know much about the series, it follows the Star Wars genera and is about a sect of people called “The Mandalorians.” The Mandalorians are people who wear a very specific type of armor and are generally contracted bounty hunters. They have a code that each Mandalorian is to follow and one of the rules is that they are to never show their face. Whenever asked to take off their armor or why they do things the way they do, a Mandalorian’s response is always; “This is the way.”  

I wonder if the writers of the Mandalorian knew what 2020 had in store. I imagine that this series might help children feel safe and empowered behind masks. I have to admit that I hate masks, in fact I would rather get Covid for two weeks at its worst than to have to use a mask for the next year. The mask for me has caused discomfort, difficulty breathing, anxiety, and even facial irritation, and that is just on a personal level. Externally, it seems that in the past ten months we have been dehumanizing one another, name calling and lumping everyone into groups of “selfish,” “reckless,” or “self righteous”. The masks have become more of a symbol for individuals to identify where they stand in this pandemic as opposed to a simple aid in preventing the spread of a virus. Masks have become a dividing line for many, and perhaps given confidence to others to fight battles they otherwise wouldn’t fight. For me the mask represents oppression, I would shut up and deal with it if the statistics made sense and showed that they were in fact preventing the spread. Instead, the mask has become a power trip, a moral high ground, an anxiety inducer, and an obligatory pain in the butt for so many. This is the way.  

mask on during preaching

This past Sunday was the first time our church gathered (legally) since last March. My husband had to sign an agreement with the government of Argentina back in March. The agreement basically stated that he had been informed of the new laws and that the church could be fined and shut down should they fail to comply with the laws (holding worship was against the law at the time). The laws are constantly changing and as of recent we have been allowed to reopen the church under certain limitations. There are several rules in place including; no more than 10 people in the church, the windows must be open, there must be a towel on the floor covered in bleach at the entrance, and accessible hand sanitizer. In addition, everyone must practice social distancing, and wear a mask (even the pastor, at all times). I expected this day to be a day of rejoicing as the body of Christ reunited and joined together under one head. Instead, it was rushed, due to a law mandating we allow 30 minutes of vacancy in the church between activities. I was going to take a stand and not go to worship since I didn't want to worship with a mask on but I recalled a valid point stating; "If you have an excuse for not going to church, you probably weren't going for the right reasons in the first place." I felt out of breath saying the Lord’s prayer and creed behind a mask, my mouth and skin have been breaking out which makes it even more uncomfortable. We are getting into summer so we are all uncomfortably sweating behind our masks. What should be a time focusing on the Word of God and a time to boldly confess Christ and the many and various ways He has and continues to care for us, has become a pageantry of “who wears it best” or rather; who is most faithful to God and government? The pastor is difficult to hear as the members fidget with their masks. We no longer see each other unveiled but hidden behind masks. The mask for me is representative of a law that has held back worshipers from enjoying hymns of praise without baited breath and to hear the word of God without strained and labored ears.  

After the worship I did as I have been doing for most of the pandemic, I put on my home congregation’s  worship service and I cleaned my kitchen. As each hymn I knew was played on the organ I sang at the top of my lungs unencumbered by the unsanitary, and ungodly piece of cloth I am required to wear in public but not in crowded restaurants. I sang as if the words we were singing should usher in the second coming of Christ. I sang as if by singing with God’s people our healing was being imposed upon us with far greater welcome than the imposition of all the laws put before us. I sang, remembering that we await a better country, that this is not all that there is. We sing together even though we are far apart recalling that one day, laws, borders, and governments shall be destroyed and we will live under Him in His kingdom and serve Him in everlasting righteousness, innocence, and blessedness forever. 

Come quickly, King of kings!

The King shall come when morning dawns and light triumphant breaks, When beauty gilds the eastern hills and life to joy awakes.

Not as of old a little child, to bear and fight and die, but crowned with glory like the sun that lights the  morning sky. 

Oh brighter than the rising morn when Christ, victorious, rose and left the lonesome place of death despite the rage of foes. 

Oh brighter than that glorious morn shall dawn upon our race the day when Christ in splendor comes and we shall see His face.

The king shall come when morning dawns and light and beauty brings. Hail, Christ the Lord! Your people pray: Come quickly, King of kings!

LSB 348

Cuties in the Middle

 My father used to tell me “There are always two sides to a story and somewhere in the middle is truth.” Do you remember the film “Precious?” To refresh your memory it was a film that came out in 2009. The synopsis of the film from the IMDB is as follows; “In New York City's Harlem circa 1987, an overweight,abused, illiterate teen who is pregnant with her second child is invited to enroll in an alternative school in hopes that her life can head in a new direction.”

I remember there being a viewing party for Precious in David commons when I was studying at CUNE. I remember thinking and feeling jolted for the content of the film. I watched “Cuties” last night, probably because many are yelling in indignation about the film. When I hear “Don’t do that” I automatically have to do it. I must say, I didn’t feel as jolted for the the content of Cuties as I did for Precious or for other films that were supposed to be for entertainment. 

I understand if as a Christian we believe it is our duty to bash potentially corrosive materials for the edification and the raising up of morals within society. After all, we are called to lift each other up with Pslams and hymns of praise. I would however encourage you to investigate what you are knocking down and examine yourself before judging something based only on what you have heard and not what you know.

Consider the book; “Reviving Ophelia- Saving the selves of adolescent girls.” American clinical psychologist; Mary Pipher wrote a book in 1994 including case studies of adolescent girls she would seein her office. In 2019 a new edition was released celebrating the 25th anniversary of her book (I would encourage you to read the interview for that book put out by NPR as it is very informative: (https://www.npr.org/2019/06/30/737478316/reviving-ophelia-turns-25). Mary Pipher brought to light the very things director and screen writer Maïmouna Doucouré was trying to bring to light in her movie “Cuties.” Yes, that is correct! The director and screen writer wasn’t some cheese puff stained pervert who gets off watching 10 year old girls twerking. The film was written and directed by a Senegalese woman raised in France. I would also encourage you to read her opinion piece put out by the Washington Post: ( https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/cuties-director-maimouna-doucoure-why-i-made-the-film/2020/09/15/7e0ee406-f78b-11ea-a275-1a2c2d36e1f1_story.html). 

In her opinion piece for the Post, Maïmouna Doucouré mentions that she was trying to address an issue in society that she hoped would stimulate a discussion and not be knocked down by a “cancel culture” mentality. She handled the film being careful and mindful of the young actresses even hiring psychologists to be on site to care for any needs of the crew. I would argue that Cuties is nothing more than a more contemporary investigation of what our young girls are being exposed to. It does not glorify young girls having sex and becoming sex idols. 

Things to consider before adopting a “Cancel culture” position on Cuties:

Know the culture- I recall while living abroad, seeing 3 year old children dancing quite suggestively. The parents laughed and made videos of the spectacle to share with friends. The children were mimicking what they saw in their culture without understanding. That is clearly depicted in the film. In addition for a French film, Cuties is quite clean (for a French film mind you). 

Know yourself- Why even bring this junk to light and watch an hour and half of some girls life falling apart at only 10? Because we live in a culture that needs to be entertained and chances are you wouldn’t watch a documentary. Do you enjoy Game of Thrones, Outlander, Weeds, Breaking Bad, Umbrella Academy or almost anything on Netflix these days? There are far more corrosive shows and films that we watch that disguise “grooming” as entertainment. I don’t know about you but I have to put limits on what I watch if I want to sleep well at night. My everyday life fills my head with enough things to fill my dreams with. Are you against the film? If so, is it based on facts and truths reflected in your personal life? 

Know the agenda by knowing the source:  (Netflix wasn’t the creator of this film even though they are responsible for streaming and presenting a lot of junk). The film takes place in France where there are different expectations and standards of public exposer (Think of all the historical art that everyone is exposed to on a daily basis). The film was born as a response to young girls dancing inappropriately in public and being objectified. The project was approved by the French government’s child protection authorities as it addressed a cultural issue, it was not a film to promote the behavior among young. This film did what it was supposed to in France, what makes the States different?   

I have to admit that I found the film interesting, not as entertainment but informative. There were the disturbing scenes that you have probably heard about where a 10 year old girl objectifies herself and tries to use her undiscovered sexuality to solve her life problems however, it is not glorified like you might think. Those disturbing scenes come with shame and disgust that is communicated in the responses of the other actors. It is depicted in all its brokenness and awkwardness of a prepubescent tween unwittingly mimicking what she sees in society. It isn’t as uplifting and cute as Troop Zero, but it touches on the real issues addressed in Reviving Ophelia. The film is depicting where grooming is coming from, I wouldn’t say it is the one doing the grooming.

I’m not advising you to go and watch this film, in fact I would encourage you to abstain especially if you don’t want to think about the way society and culture creeps in and robs children of their innocence. I certainly would not allow children to see it and I think the director of the film would agree. I am encouraging you to seek the middle by being informed. I am also encouraging my fellow brothers and sisters in Christ to remember what we are called to and what that means for how we interact with worldly things. Sometimes we cast down people who are fighting with us because we don’t understand their methods or the platform from which they stand. At the end of the day, as a Christian, I try to err on the side of edifying others with Biblical truth, however I know I have and do fail on a daily basis. Look up Colossians 3 or Ephesians 5 for meditation. 

Colossians 3:16

16 Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God.

Alleluia's in Lent II (Never Forsaken)

It feels like fall here. My grandpa died in the fall of 2016 and my grandma died this past Monday. In my mind, they both died in the fall. Grandpa in September (fall in the States) and Grandma in March (fall in Argentina). My grandma was a God fearing woman and I know she is with her Lord. My heart does not mourn the victory she has gained in her death; she lived a long full life. My heart is heavy because I said goodbye to my baby on Monday as well. The day started with a loss and ended with a loss. We were ten weeks pregnant and looking forward to delivering this baby in what would have been fall in the States; spring in Argentina. I can get pretty lost in time here in Argentina. I have to remind myself what month we are in and the weather often betrays me. We are hot in December and cold in July. I suppose my baby was a little confused too and didn’t realize that it was supposed to wait until it would be fall in the states, not in Argentina. 

I was excited about our timeline. I was already anticipating bringing our family back to the states in October to celebrate Octoberfest, halloween, my sister’s birthday and the new baby’s first birthday. I was getting the house ready to fit one more tiny human. I was planning how to tell family and friends. I was not anticipating another miscarriage, especially with every day of progress. It is such a cruel thing to loose a child in the first trimester especially when all the symptoms of early pregnancy are the worst and we endure and push through with the hope of holding a child at the end. My timeline for the next seven months was all set. It is hard to believe that God had a different timeline that includes my suffering. It is hard to believe because I don’t believe that He does that, His timeline is not so sadistic. I have to believe that my suffering will one day give birth to joy even if I can’t see it now.  

I’m no better at this than I was with my first miscarriage. I don’t really even feel any wiser. A great difference between my first miscarriage and this one is that I feel more supported this time. It can be hard to reach out and tell people what is going on when you know that the road to joy could take a sharp left and leave you at a dead end of grief. Yesterday a missionary friend checked up on me regularly all day. Last night I cried with my parents, my aunt, and my sister. This morning I found messages from my brother and sister-in-law. My husband held me, and my daughter wiped away my tears and told me not to cry. I hugged my sweet little girl and remembered God’s mercy in the midst of my last miscarriage and the joy He gave us in our sweet little Evangelina. I recall His promises and His faithfulness and I feel peace. My soul still mourns and magnifies the Lord at the same time.  My spirit longs for restoration and rejoices in God my Savior. Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia! 

Revelation 21:4 New King James Version (NKJV)

4 And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes; there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying. There shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away.”

Picture of my mom caring for her mom in her last days (because I don't have any pictures of the baby) 

I look to the Cross.

I remember in Seminary when the head of the library was orienting us to how the Library on campus worked. He made a joke saying; “If you are looking for periodicals, all you have to do is just as King David did when he said; I look to the hills, where comes my help.” He then pointed to an impressive amount of boxes stored above the book shelves. That pairing of scripture with something that frightened me; research, calmed my anxieties and made the task seem less daunting. I love libraries for the solitude and peace they can offer, but the insurmountable information they contain can be daunting. 

Very recently, the Latin American Lutheran community has been mourning the death of a beloved shepherd. A Venezuelan pastor was murdered in a way that can only be described as horrific and at the hands of pure evil. The news has shaken many and saddened all within the Lutheran community. The amount of unanswered questions is terrifying. 

Much of Latin America is suffering economic crisis but the forerunner and the country suffering the most is Venezuela. Due to economic and governmental crisis, it is difficult to say why a Lutheran pastor may have been a target, but the pastor isn’t the only target. The church at large in Venezuela is under attack. “Strike the shepherd and the sheep will scatter.” Matthew 26:31. 

Sin becomes a concoction to remedy fear and pain for living in a society where daily bread is hard to come by. Many have found refuge in other countries waiting, praying, and helping from afar for the remnant. There is a great rising of fear and confusion when a pastor is lost in such a way. This is the second Lutheran pastor I have learned about having been murdered in the past four years. How could God allow this to happen? Doesn’t the Psalmist promise that The LORD will be our keeper and that He will preserve us from all evil? 

Something I know I have taken for granted is the luxury of my faith. We preach against the theology of glory, but in my mind there is a little voice that says; “be faithful to God and He will be faithful to you.”  The problem with that is my own interpretation of God’s faithfulness to me and to others. The Lord is our keeper; the keeper of our soul. He has called dear Pastor Luis Coronado into eternal rest. He holds the souls of all believers in Him. While evildoers can hurt us and take our lives and our bodies, the Lord of all creation still holds us within His care. While we may cry for justice, we must remember and hold fast, knowing that the battle is the Lords. He will have His justice. Please pray for the family of our sainted brother and Pastor; Luis Coronado, pray for all pastors fighting to feed the flock in Venezuela. Pray for Venezuela and all her leaders. Pray that God would preserve us all in these later days, and call us to look to Him and His suffering endured for us. Our help truly does come from the Lord. 

Christ is Risen! 

Psalm 121 

I will lift up my eyes to the hills—

From whence comes my help?

2 My help comes from the Lord,

Who made heaven and earth.

3 He will not allow your foot to [a]be moved;

He who keeps you will not slumber.

4 Behold, He who keeps Israel

Shall neither slumber nor sleep.

5 The Lord is your [b]keeper;

The Lord is your shade at your right hand.

6 The sun shall not strike you by day,

Nor the moon by night.

7 The Lord shall [c]preserve you from all evil;

He shall preserve your soul.

8 The Lord shall preserve[d] your going out and your coming in

From this time forth, and even forevermore.

"I GOT YOU MAMA"

Within the past few days our sweet little pumpkin has taken to saying “I got you!” and it isn’t as if she were playing hide and seek, she says it in a consoling manner. The other day I was walking with her and she asked to be picked up. I lifted her up, she rested her head on my shoulder and said; “I got you mama.” Her tone was the same as when she says “I love you.” They were words I needed to hear and be reminded of. 

It’s difficult sometimes to remember that what you have been called to is all of life’s daily tasks; the mundane and the memorable. I often feel forgotten in Argentina and I don’t think it is a feeling unique and isolated to my station and place in life. I believe we all feel forgotten or meaningless at times. I believe we all need the gentle head rest of a child and the a tiny voice saying; “I got you.” 

It wasn’t just the way my daughter said “I got you” it was the fact that she learned it from me. She said it because it is what I am constantly saying to her. When she bumps her head or faces a world full of emotions that she has never experienced before, I scoop her up and say; “I got you my honey bunny.” I imagine we all run around tending to the needs of others like it is the most important thing on our to-do list and it takes those gentle reminders to show us that what we are doing for others, they are also doing for us. My daughter might not change my diaper, feed me and bathe me, but I find purpose in her. I find meaning, and that doesn’t mean that everyone needs a two year old to have that. I find my vocational joy in Eva even though at the same time I think I might want a more “meaningful” task like writing books full time, feeding the hungry, teaching our world’s future leaders, or even saving the world from destruction and catastrophe. 

Eva’s gentle touch and words remind me that it is enough and she does in deed “got me.” and God gave her to me. More than that, God has me. He holds me within the palm of His hand in a way that reminds me that no matter how insignificant I might feel or think that I am, He remains present and active in my life. He is mindful of even my most mundane days. Sometimes, when my husband reminds me of how God cares for me I scoff and think; “I’m pretty sure God has more important things to be mindful of than my petty problems.” The truth is; He does, but that doesn’t stop Him from loving and caring for us. If there is one thing my isolation has taught me it is that God is ever present and ever caring in majestic ways veiled in the mundane. He is mindful of me, He is mindful of you and He’s got us.  

Isaiah 46:3-4 (NKJV)

“Listen to Me, O house of Jacob,

And all the remnant of the house of Israel,

Who have been upheld by Me from birth,

Who have been carried from the womb:

Even to your old age, I am He,

And even to gray hairs I will carry you!

I have made, and I will bear;

Even I will carry, and will deliver you.