Self Care and Grace

Max Update

July 7th, 2017, Maximus came home from the hospital and suddenly Missi and I were the sole caretakers for this complicated human being with all his tubes and wires and monitors.  After getting the typical no-sleep that new parents often get, we got into a rhythm of rotating when we would take naps and when we'd spend time together.  After a couple months of this, we are getting to love every tiny little milestone that Max gives us.  He is slowly weening off of oxygen (good), he is starting to smile when we talk to him and give him attention (adorable), but he has since forgotten how to eat from a bottle (not so good). Luckily we can tube feed him but his gag reflex is very sensitive, even to the point where he chokes even before the bottle is in his mouth.  We are working with so many specialists to make sure he stays on track for his development.  Just a recap, he is almost 7 months old but is like a normal 3 month old baby developmentally.


We've been getting more and more used to bringing him out of the house to go to social gathering where he is "quarantined" in a room for his own health. With the hurricane coming in over the weekend, we evacuated to Charlotte, NC where we endured a 12-hour car ride filled with tube feedings and changed diapers galore.  Max slept most of the way there and back like a good boy.  The best parts of my day include just making simple eye contact with my son and he grins that silly half smile.

Ministry Update
Although I've been on paternity leave for the summer and now on sabbatical, I've heard bits and pieces as to how things in the 2nd Mile world have been going. Summer day camp had many high schoolers step up into leaderships roles for the first time, leading stations, making lesson plans, shepherding the kids to their different rotations. Already as the school year has been about a month in, I've heard that there has been tremendous progress in our returning kids, especially those who have had problems in the past with anger and defiance.  One thing that has really weighed heavily on my heart is some of the pain that has come with the summer. One of the high schoolers that was a part of LEAD (2nd Mile's high school program) died in a car wreck.  One of our elementary school students who already had some emotional issues last school year lost his father in a car wreck.  I never met the man but from what I remember, this boy admired his dad and looked up to him.  From what I've heard from my coworkers, he hasn't seemed too externally distressed by that loss.  I know there's some unprocessed feelings that are probably confusing to a young boy dealing with the death of a loved one. Pray that he feels God's love and 2nd Mile's love this year to really bring healing to those confusing emotions.  His name is Al'Savion.

Me Update

Beautiful disc golf course at Nevin Park, Charlotte, NC

Bringing home Max was awesome, getting to see the intricacies of his being--yawning, pooping, crying, wiggling--has been an amazing gift.  This summer, I've noticed my free time fading and I guess that just comes with the territory.  I've recently taken up disc golf more regularly as my "me-time" whenever I can get it.  There's just something about walking in a park early in the morning with nobody around except me, God, and a few discs that is just relaxing to my being.  I love the way that the discs leave my hand and paint the air with their flight, barreling towards a basket, it's eventual home.  Last weekend in Charlotte, I was excited to learn that there were about 15 courses within 10 miles of where we evacuated.  After getting the green light from my amazing wife, I proceeded to check out a few courses over the next few days.  It was strangely wonderful to see elevation changes, hills, wooded walls, and streams compared to the flatness of Florida.  On the way back to Jacksonville, I noticed my chest hurting on the left side. Not knowing exactly what it was, I assumed it may have been heart burn or something so I took some Tums.  After arriving home and getting the car unpacked, my chest pain got worse as I was laying down for bed. After taking the pain for a minute, I remained motionless (as to avoid more pain) and eventually got some sleep.  I woke up, still in pain, barely able to move, much less stand up, and made my way to the kitchen in order to feed Max. The chest pain sky rocketed and my ability to stand disappeared. I passed out, ended up the floor, my chin hurt (must've smacked onto the kitchen counter), and Missi called an ambulance. I've never done that before in my life. I recalled a story of a friend of a friend who had chest pain on a long bus ride who died the next day. I'm going to be honest, this thought crossed my mind.  As the ambulance came, they asked me questions while I was laying sideways on the floor.  I was completely alert, just couldn't talk with much volume. They helped me to my feet, and then I fell out again.  The next thing I can remember is being wheeled to the ambulance. My hearing was shot (felt like I had plugs in my ears), I couldn't really see vivid colors (much like when Maximus in the movie Gladiator experiences the afterlife), and at one point everything was a light yellow light.  I remember praying for God to save me, knowing that I would hate to leave Missi and Max like that.  I had to control any urge to cry for it caused my chest too much pain. I get to the hospital, they give me a chest X-ray to rule out any heart problems, they put like 15 stickers on my chest to monitor whatever it is they monitor, and checked my blood pressure repeatedly. Apparently it was 90 over 60 at one point.  Fast forward to today, I still have minor chest pain, the doctor said the some cartilage in the chest wall around the rib cage were inflamed. It's possible the combination of packing up our car with Max and other heavy things, of disc golfing way more than I normally do, of being confined to our small car for 9 hours, and of possibly being a bit dehydrated had something to do with the chest pain.

Things I can praise God for:
-He saved me.
-There isn't anything wrong with my heart, just my chest wall.
-I'm able to get in and out of bed with only a little pain.
-I got a doctor's appointment in today when previously they could only schedule me for two weeks from now.

Yesterday when I came home from the ER, I was lying in bed, unable to really do much, and all I could observe was my wife not only making sure I was okay, but taking care of our son, his feedings, his dirty diapers, his ticking time bomb projectile vomiting. The most painful part about being in bed was not the chest pain, but the inability to help her. My wife is awesome.  She saw the movie Wonder Woman a bunch in the theaters, but she's the real wonder. Amidst all the chaos of taking care of the house as well as the two babies in the house, she had time to carry Max into our room so that I could say hi to him since I was stuck in the other side of the house. I love that kid so much, and my wife even more. I think with all the confusion of not really understanding why all that had happened that day had happened and my frustration with not being able to help couldn't handle to simple gesture of grace that Missi showed me. As much as I didn't want my chest to hurt from crying, the tears came down.  Those two not being in my life would be unbearable. I had to ask Missi to take Max away from me for a bit because it was too much for me to handle and comprehend.  Where disc golf has been my safe place this summer, the importance of Missi and Max takes precedence.

There is nothing that you and I can do to rectify our sin. We are motionless in the pain of our imperfection. I didn't ask Missi to bring Max into our room, yet it was exactly what I needed. Jesus came and allowed himself to me murdered for our sake. There is nothing we could do to stop that.  Having someone pay for our mistakes doesn't seem fair, yet I imagine that when I see Jesus he will be met with tears as the realization of his great love for me will be too much for me to bare.

With just three or four weeks left of my sabbatical, I'm going to take it easy, hopefully read a book or two, get closer to Jesus, take care of myself, drink more water, limit my physical activity, spend quality time with my wife and son.

Please pray that:
-Max relearns how to eat from a bottle.
-God heals my chest pain fully.
-God would heal any hurt in Al'Savion's life
-God would reveal to you what habits in your life need to go. What is of God and what is of you?

God is the good Father

Ministry Update

-We have successfully completed our 6th year of the after school program.  If I'm honest, it was the most difficult year of ministry so far. With a majority of our kids being new to the program and on the young side, it felt like in a lot of ways we were starting at square one.  However, as the year progressed, relationships and trust were able to take root in even the most challenging children. It was very difficult to pray for particular kids but it allowed me to check my own heart and my own expectations for ministry.

-We held our annual Vision Dinner where we invited people within our circles to hear about 2nd Mile's vision for the Brentwood neighborhood, many for the first time.  Although this was our main fundraising event of the year, what I found to be extremely valuable in our efforts to connect people with our ministry was our Come and See tour. Folks that attended the dinner had the opportunity to come to North Pearl Baptist Church (where our programming is) on a Saturday morning and get a ride throughout Brentwood in our big white 15-passenger van.  I could write or tell you about what Brentwood is like but being able to see it up close just puts this Pearl World in perspective.

-Last Saturday, we held our 10th Annual Rummage Sale in order to raise funds for our Summer Day Camp. Many churches and volunteers came out to donate their stuff, help out at the event itself, and even some shopped as well.  This was by far our most efficient year in regards to setting up, organizing, and cleaning up, and we nearly reached what we raised last year.

-We have a new website y'all.  Check it out! 2ndmilejax.com

Maximus Update

-Born at 1 lb 6 oz, Max is now over 7 lbs! His feeding and breathing tubes were in his mouth to begin with, but now they are in his nose (don't worry, they cleaned them) in order that he can start practicing bottle-feeding. He is very wiggly and more expressive in his face. He'll cry one moment, smile in the next, and then yawn and go to sleep.

-He is on a low amount of oxygen, only when he needs a little extra help. If he comes home on oxygen, he is currently on the amount he would be on.

-He has a hernia. He gets surgery Thursday morning so please pray that all goes well on that tiny body.

-His due date was originally June 7th so he is officially a developed 40 week old baby. His homecoming date is and always has been a mystery. It kind of depends on how well Max progresses with his bottle feeding. He takes a full bottle on occasion, yet has times he is asleep or just too tired to suck. There is a chance if he regresses in feedings or doesn't increase at a satisfactory rate, he could get a temporary g-tube for when he comes home (more surgery).

-We've loved to get to love and hold Maximus when we can. I love bonking foreheads with him (gently) and letting him grab at my face. Missi loves seeing how many kisses per second she can give him.

Me Update

-With Max coming home soon, the ministry has allowed me to take paternity leave for the summer. Despite not knowing exactly when he'll be home, I have just this week started this leave in order to prepare for whenever he comes home.  That said, this will be maybe the first time in five years that I won't be a part of summer day camp.  As I always enjoy the excitement on the kids' faces and all that they get to experience and learn, I am truly grateful for this time off in order to practice being a dad.  I know not all places of work have paternity leave, so I realize how extremely lucky/blessed I am.

-Also, this completes my first five years of full time ministry with 2nd Mile.  It just so happens that after five years, staff members are encouraged to take a sabbatical in order to take a step back, pray, meditate, and analyze our place in ministry.  With how God's timing has worked, I plan on taking this sabbatical almost immediately after paternity leave.  I don't plan on becoming a hermit. I still live in this great neighborhood and get to see students who live nearby. I'll occasionally take some kids to the park and just have fun.

Here are a few honest things I'm feeling entering the next few months:

-I sometimes feel guilty in having so much time off from work, especially with paternity leave and sabbatical so close.

-I worry about whether or not I'm fit to be a dad. (I'm sure this is normal for first-time fathers, but still).

-With Max in the hospital, being taken care of by doctors and nurses, I realize that as soon as he comes home that my "me-time" will be diminished. Knowing this, sometimes I selfishly would rather go to the beach, hang out with friends, or just sit at home and do nothing rather than drive to the hospital to see Max. It could be fear of giving those things up or fear of being a good dad.

-In regards to ministry, I sometimes imagine what life would be like if I wasn't in ministry. The comfort seems appealing and I would get less headaches. I haven't really found a niche in ministry, bouncing around from program to program, task to task, sometimes unsure of what exactly God wants for me.

-With a baby coming home, and Missi being off of work, I think a lot about needing to raise more support and sometimes it just seems too difficult to ask people for help.

Please pray that during this time off that I would grow in my knowledge of God, that I would seek him with all I have, that my selfishness, guilt, pride, and fear would be washed cleaned. Pray that all that Max's hernia surgery goes well this week, that he continues to take his feedings in his recovery time, and that the transition home would be smooth.

If you do happen to actually pray, thank you so much. There are times in life where we can feel so weak and frail and alone. He is a good Father who hears your prayers.

Hiding

Alright, get your "Awwwww"s out of the way

I've known my son for less than two months and I can't imagine sending him somewhere on purpose in order to die and save a bunch of people that were evil and full of sin.  How can one love sinful people so much?  As I teach our students about Easter, I was amazed how little they knew.  I thought I would just have to review and fill-in-the-blanks to their already learned knowledge of the holiday.  When asked about what Easter is all about, one kid actually answered, "Bunnies?"

Last week, we made bracelets with five colored beads to signify the gospel story. To make it even easier to remember, I modeled it off of our summer day camp cheers. Green means God loves me. Blue means that all people are sinful. (Most bracelets I've seen use a black bead for sin and a white bead for purification which makes sense but is not a great message to these kids).  Red means that Jesus died for me. Clear means he forgives our sin when we receive him (not a camp cheer). And finally, yellow means that we need Jesus to be our best friend in order to grow.

This past week, we utilized some donated resurrection eggs which are basically a dozen plastic eggs with objects inside that tell part of the Easter story.  The kids hunted for the hidden eggs, we brought them inside to open, and then we unpacked the story.  If I can remember correctly, these were the twelve objects:
A donkey
Silver coins
A wine cup
Praying hands
A leather whip
A crown of thorns
Three nails
A spear
Dice
A linen cloth
A stone
A completely empty egg

I'd say the parts of the story that really had the kids attention were the whip, the thorny crown, the nails, and the spear.  Each detailed description of how those things played a part in Jesus dying really helped the kids understand a little more about Jesus' suffering. The kids felt it unfair that Jesus got crucified when he didn't even do anything wrong. I pray and pray that these kids learn more and more about their own sin and how we need to repent and turn around from it.  So often, they blame their sin on other people (who doesn't?) or justify the wrong they've committed (again, who doesn't?).

I'm thankful for the opportunity to share the gospel story with kids who have never heard it before.  I sometimes wrongfully assume that they've heard this all before at church or at our camp, but they are kids and this is sometimes hard to grasp.  When I wanted to use John 3:16 to help them understand why God had Jesus die for us, Key'Ahrah's eyes lit up and recited it word for word.  "For God so loved the world that he gave his only son that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life." This love God has for us might seem crazy to us because we may feel unworthy, but God loves those he has made.

First John 1:7 I memorized in Boy's Club in elementary school.  The words were written on the board and slowly erased to build it in our fresh memories.

Romans 6:23 I memorized, again, in Boy's Club in order to enter the swimming pool at our lock-in at the YMCA.

One morning in college, I woke up super early, walked to Lake Mendota, sat there for a couple hours and memorized Psalm 103 because earlier that week I heard God tell me to open up to that chapter of the Bible without any understanding as to why. (It's a good one.)

Not too many other verses jump out to me as to when, where, and in what circumstances I learned them, but throughout my life, God has been depositing, hiding his word in my heart in various ways, even if those ways were in order for me to fulfill my desire to swim. Since last fall, God put the desire back in me to memorize scripture; however, writing on postcards just didn't seem the way to go for me.  There's a website, scripturetyper.com, that has helped me learn scripture at a very quick pace.  This is more bragging for the website rather than for me, but I've committed 157 verses to memory so far.  It's been amazing the circumstances where I can now bring up passages, combat temptation, claim a promise, hear a command, understand my identity, know of the character of Jesus without the need for a physical Bible.  I believe that in thirty years, I'll look back on the day I started on this website and point to that as when my spiritual life put on the gas and accelerated.

Psalm 119:11 says, "I have hidden your word in my heart that I might not sin against you."  This act of hiding the word is something valuable that I've already seen God doing in my life.  I hope you check it out, even for just fifteen minutes, because then you might be hooked. I recall when Jesus was in the desert for 40 days, he probably didn't have scrolls readily available to him, and yet he used scripture to combat those temptations from the devil.  In Matthew 4 when hungry and tempted to turn stones to bread, Jesus quotes Deuteronomy 8:3 saying that man cannot live on bread alone but on every word of God.

I hope that as you read scripture that you occasionally commit it to memory.  I do want to make it clear that memorizing and studying scripture will not on its own bring you closer to the Lord.  It may increase your knowledge of the word but it doesn't guarantee that your heart wants to spend time with Jesus.  When you read, listen.  God may be trying to speak into your life through his word and through the example of Jesus Christ.  Today, on Good Friday, Christ died for us.  Just a few scriptures that come to mind about this:

Romans 5:6-8--"For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. For one will scarcely die for a righteous person--though perhaps--for a good person one would dare even to die. But God shows his love for us that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us."

John 5:12-13--"This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends."

1 John 3:16--"By this we know love, that he laid his life down for us, and we ought to lay down our lives for the brothers."

I'm excited for Easter, to be able to have conversations with children about Jesus, his love and their sin.  My parents are currently on their way down to Jacksonville and that's also exciting too.  God used them to give me physical life and Jesus gave me spiritual life.  As I look at Maximus, I pray that God would be a strong part of his life and that Jesus would open his heart and create a vacancy there.

Weening

Since Monday, February 13th, Missi has been staying at Baptist Medical Center in hopes that if anything were to happen with the baby in her belly, the right people and protocol could be taken much more quickly than if on bed rest at home.  For those who are pregnancy illiterate (like me a couple months ago), a typical pregnancy is about 40 weeks long.  At the 24-week mark, a baby is called "viable", meaning that if born, the chances of survival increase greatly than if born at 23 weeks.  Missi's water broke at 19 weeks and it's a miracle that the baby didn't die shortly after.  At home on bed rest for weeks, having multiple appointments each week to check on the baby, Missi and I have been giving every moment to God in prayer, knowing that only He was in control and had the power to keep the baby alive.  Every heart beat that was registered on the ultra-sound was a continuously pulsating blessing.

Philippians 4:6-7 says, "do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God, and the peace of God which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."  

An amazing byproduct of prayer has been his peace, which has guarded our otherwise anxious and fearful hearts.

Isaiah 26:3 says, "You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you."

These words have kept us calm even in the frustrating times that we weren't sure what was going on or why this all was happening to us.

February 21st, this past Tuesday night, I got off of work, drove to get some burgers for dinner and bring them to the hospital for us to enjoy.  We had started to get comfortable with our private room with a pull-out couch, refrigerator, and television.  Missi would get visited often throughout each day by nurses to get the baby monitored, to be given water, food, and medicine.  Twice daily, our baby's heart rate got checked for about a half hour, making sure it ebbed and flowed normally.  But something was different about these numbers that night.  The pattern was different this time.  It was on the higher end and was staying too consistent (consistency sounded like a good thing to us but with babies, it's better that they show variation).  So down to the labor and delivery floor we went for the monitor to be continually checked.  Missi's temperature was at 100.0 (100.4 is declared a fever) so there was fear in what this might mean.  The nurses mentioned possibly delivering the baby. "What?" was kind of our thought.  We were just getting settled in to a routine and weren't really expecting the baby for at least a few more weeks, maybe months (I was optimistic [or in denial]).  After sort of dealing with that possibility, we began to pray, knowing that everything has been in his hands and was currently in his hands as well.  Missi's temperature went down to 99.0 and the baby's  heartbeats started to look better, according to the deliver doctor.  There seemed to be hope that after a while we'd go back to the room and continue back to normal, back to comfort.  It was as if God answered our prayers by lowering Missi's temperature, calming the baby's heart rate, and bringing in the head doctor to tell us we should be fine after a little while.  Within another half hour, our doctor, she comes back in and suggests that we deliver the baby at that time rather than later when another heightened heart rate from the baby might complicate things.  So, having already calmed down from the initial scare, I firmly believe that God was weening us off of our own understanding and comfort and helping us adjust our hearts to his will, which was at that point to have the baby.

After confirmation that the baby was coming

Missi had to have a C-section because we were at about 25 weeks.  She got some anesthesia to numb her up, but her shoulders and up were awake.  I was able to come in and sit with her top half while the room had like six or seven people (felt like twenty) doing their part to make the birth a success.  There was a sheet creating a wall to block our view from all the cuts and blood and stuff that you can't unsee.  They played Missi's request of music in the background which was Hezekiah Walker (at one point his lyrics mentioned God as our deliverer and I couldn't help but internally giggle at the pun).  The whole surgery seemed quick, only like 30 minutes or so.  They pulled him out (yes, him. We were convinced for days that he was a she) at 1:31am, Wednesday morning, February 22nd, showed him to us for about two seconds, I snapped a very timely picture, then they rushed him off to the NICU (neonatal intensive care unit) to get him hooked up to a respirator as well as other things that I'm still slowly learning the purpose of.

About an hour later, while Missi was in recovery, I got the chance to meet our boy for the first time without mommy-supervision.  He was so tiny.  His eyes looked fused shut.  His belly went in and out.  His ribs looked so fragile.  This being was alive.  I checked and yes, he has ten toes and ten fingers.  Every wire, bandage, monitor, piece of clothing, incubator setting had its purpose and was almost so overwhelming that I didn't have to understanding what everything did or if things were working.  He is alive and that's the most important thing right now.  From head to toe, he was about 12.2 inches but when he's in his position, he's about as long as it is from my thumb to my pinky if stretched out wide.  He was 1 lb. 6 oz. when born.  Who knew that a baby that small could make it?  The NICU nurses asked me what his name was.  Because that night's events were a surprise, and only having picked a girl's name, I gave her no answer.  It was only a few hours later that Missi and I agreed on the name Maximus (Max for short) Von (meaning hope) Vollmer.  We liked the name Max, weren't feeling the elongated name Maxwell, and then were excited to discover the name Maximus.  With thoughts of Gladiator, this name sounded strong, hoping that he would continue to fight every day for growth and life, showing off his life and telling onlookers "ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED?!?!?!"  We had named this baby Hope while in the womb, and that sort of went out the window when we discovered it was a boy.  Von sounded the most normal boy name that means hope, and it rhymes with my middle name (John) so in my mind, the name seemed to flow.

I took pictures, showed them to Missi.  Anxious to regain feeling in her legs and the ability to get on a wheel chair, she was able to see her oven bun about eight hours after delivery.  I'm grateful that I captured this moment of her seeing him for the first time.  Missi did amazing.  Her faith in God has been so beautiful these past few weeks.  Praying to the only lifeline worth holding, we are so thankful to God for all that he is.  Thank you for your prayers and encouragement throughout this process.  The transition from working to bed rest at home, from bed rest at home to bed rest at the hospital, from bed rest at the hospital to delivery, God has been helping in every change of setting and circumstance.  We know that we won't be in our current circumstances forever, yet we know in faith and now in experience that God is in those transitions as much as those circumstances.  Pray that the transition home and away from the baby goes smoothly as well.

As for right now, the baby is doing well.  It's the nature of the NICU that babies have good days and bad days.  On good days, he is weened off of certain things.  On bad days, he is put on certain things.  The progress is slow, but it is progress.  He will most likely have to stay at the hospital until our original due date, June 7th (give or take a day).  I'm reminded of the times when I'm teaching a new concept in math to a student, like fractions.  I gauge how much they understand, maybe I do one of their problems for them and slowly teach each step until they can finally do it on their own.  Same with the baby.  If he can't handle breathing on his own, he needs a little more help until he can finally do it on his own (he can't right now by the way).  The nurses call our little guy feisty, moving his arms and legs.  He's already had to be (gently) restrained.  Praise God for all he has been doing.  It's amazing how he created life.  It's overwhelming to think about how exactly he does it, but I don't understand it, so I can just rest and not worry.

Special Guest

Well hello there! This is Missi, Andrew's wife, and I will be making a guest appearance today. I am not much of a blogger so bear with me. I know Andrew typically talks about 2nd Mile Ministries and his current life events. As he mentioned in a previous blog, we had some difficulties in pregnancy this year. We have two little ones in Heaven and one on the way here. This little one, Hope, as we call it, is a modest baby, partially because at 23 weeks we still don't know the gender. It likes to cross its legs during the ultrasounds. Yes, I know Hope is typically a girl's name but at the beginning of this pregnancy, we decided no matter what happened our hope would be in Jesus. We were so blessed and joyful that we made it past the dreaded 11 week mark.

Unfortunately, four weeks ago, my water broke (21 weeks early) but were blessed that I did not go into labor right away. Until 24 weeks the survival rate is below 30% and if it came now.  Baby Hope has been a fighter, constantly reminding me of God's glory. We need your help. Obviously, God is in control and so we desperately need your prayers. Whatever the Lord has planned for us, we will glorify Him.

He has blessed us with time and wonderful friends and family who have been incredibly selfless towards us during this experience. Words cannot express how truly grateful I am for the wonderful people in our lives. They have served us constantly and showered us with love. I am amazed at the incredible people God has put in our lives.

Every time that I feel like giving up, the Lord reminds me of His greatness--either through time with Him or encouragement from a loved one. This experience, while difficult, has definitely led to precious time with the Lord. Each day, He has reminded me of His goodness and all of the blessings he has given me. He has definitely slowed down my life and shown me how I need to appreciate every day we get with Baby Hope.

Monday, we (I) go into the hospital so the doctors can do more preventative care. I am thankful for all they will do but it will not be easy for me to transition from the comfort of my home and precious time with Andrew to an unfamiliar place in which I do not know what to expect. I do not do well with change and have issues with anxiety. I would love for God to let me know ahead of time what to expect but that's not how He works. So, I pray that I lean firmly on His will and not give into fear.

Hebrews 4:16 says, "Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need."

Thank you for reading this!
I will be praying for you as well.

Season of Hope

This word hope has been entering our lives more often than it ever has in our lives.  I recognized it most recently in the conclusion of the Rogue One Star Wars movie.  It showed up in a memory verse simulator app I'm working on for Romans 15:13 which says, "May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope."  When looking to the future, depending on our outlook, we can either have hope or feel hopeless.

The four weeks leading up to Christmas, my wife and I decided to celebrate Advent, going through a daily devotional in anticipation of the day that Jesus was born.  It occurs to me that anticipating something that has already happened is a strange concept, but getting a little taste of the anticipation that many people back in those days had towards their coming King was a beautiful experience.  We lit four candles--first week, one, second week, two, and so on--representing God's promises, His peace, His love, and finally hope.  The importance and significance of Christmas was compounded in doing this for four weeks straight as opposed to one day or one church service on Christmas Eve.  I vaguely recall lighting these long purple and pink candles as a kid.  The light is most beautiful in a dark room, which reminds me of Jesus declaring himself as the light of the world, who came to light up the darkness.  We, too, as Christians are to "in the same way, let our lights shine before others so that they may see our good works and give glory to our Father who is in heaven." (Matthew 5:16).

November of 2015, Missi and I were surprised and blessed with the news of pregnancy.  The thought of having a baby was part of the plan...eventually, but we weren't really sure how we felt.  Us parents? A couple months later, after feeling more okay with the thought of becoming parents, we lost the baby.  We were extremely hurt by the loss and amazingly friends and family provided support and words of encouragement and experience that softened the blow of loss.  Fast forward to April-ish, pregnant again.  We apologize if this was news to you, we were much more cautious with how quickly we shared the news with people, probably due to the fear of another loss.  I recall in myself being much slower to want to connect with this baby.  I didn't want to get hurt again.  Second miscarriage. It happened almost too quickly.  Thankfully we took the loss easier than the first, but I wish I would've meditated on parenthood and trusted God more with the pregnancy.  Not that we would've followed through with these names at birth, but the first two babies we named Monster (it was very painful for Missi) and Blessing (getting another opportunity for a baby).  The two losses were hard but we got to experience the joy of our close friends having their baby this past May.  Fast forward to today, Missi is pregnant once again and this time she has made it into the second trimester.  Hope is doing well, healthy, and further along than both babies were.  We've been much more willing to trust in the Lord for His control over the pregnancy, much more willing to connect with the baby even if it means future loss, and much more hopeful of his/her birth in June 2017, thanks all to the Lord.

More instances of hope in our lives, our sister-in-law made us an ornament with the word Hope on it, unaware that that was the name we chose for this pregnancy.  Visiting my in-laws for Christmas last week, I found a beanie baby (remember those?) of a bear kneeling down in prayer.  "Cute," I thought. Then I looked at the given name inside the ty tag.  "Hope!" my inner voice shouted.  Not sure if my in-laws are aware, but we took that beanie baby with us for when the baby is born.  Hope that was okay. Love you!

I live in a neighborhood where it can become the normal to have little to no hope.  Bills need to be paid, yet questions as to how they'll be paid become routine.  Not an unfamiliar sight, ripped up lottery tickets.  If two guys buy lottery tickets, one is hopeful in winning and the other isn't, yet they both have losing numbers, did the hopeful person lose anything in losing?  These are the questions that are difficult to answer.

Serving food at our Christmas party

This year of ministry has been extremely difficult.  You never know when a kid will throw a fit, throw a fist, or throw markers. There always seems to be at least one meltdown each day, if not five.  Many of the kids are new with us, many are on the younger side, and it can be easy to go home at the end of the day hopeless to seeing any positive progress. Sometimes I feel I see more negative growth than positive.  However, at our Christmas party before Christmas break, we invited the kids and their families to celebrate the holiday with dinner and some donated gifts.  Unprompted, several of the kids wanted to help serve their families the dinner.  It started with one volunteer and ended up being six or seven kids following suit, happily, willingly helping out.  Am I blind to when these things happen throughout the school year, only fixating on what's wrong or was I witnessing a moment of hope for these kids.  I feel that hope gets a lot of help when there are signs to that thing hope for coming true.  I feel these are some of God's quiet assurances that He is in control, watching over the entire situation.

Al'Savion building a gingerbread house

Please pray for baby Hope's growth and development.  Pray for these kids that are deeply loved by Jesus Christ, enough to die for them.  I hope you've had a wonderful Christmas season.  Continue to celebrate Jesus, not just Christmas and Easter.  He wants us to be a light to others so that they may give Him glory.  

I pledge allegiance to God

Think of a time when you have wronged someone.  Take one minute and actually think of that time.

If you're like me, it might take you a while to actually pull up a memory of us doing something wrong to another.  Or maybe you were quick to think of something, but refrain from going through the details of that circumstance.  Either we can quickly justify our actions, or maybe we blame someone else, or maybe we try to forget and erase those things from our long term recollections because it's too difficult to remind ourselves just how messed up we can be.  As I've been repeatedly reminded in my counseling classes this semester, it is so much easier to point out other people's faults than our own, and yet the Bible teaches us to first get the plank out of our own eyes before we can get the speck of dust out of our brother's.  As I talked about in the previous blog entry, we choose which burdens (our own or other's) in life we want to carry.  It is much easier to turn your face away from someone else's suffering than to engage it, help carry it, and help try to bring someone out of a struggle or painful circumstance.

Think of a time when America has wronged a particular group of people.  Again, take a minute to think of that people group.

If you're familiar with what I do for a living, you may already be anticipating where I'm going with this blog.  There are probably many more examples, but the two that dominate the front of my mind our Native Americans and African Americans.  We don't talk much about Native American rights these days, mainly because, well, we've taken most of their land and much of their way of life.  We don't listen to those voices anymore.  Secondly, African Americans have been "wronged", to put it lightly, and continue to be wronged to this day, yet many can live unaffected by the day-to-day struggle and confusion of the predicament that many black people find themselves in.  "But Andrew, I wasn't part of the Native American genocide.  And I'm always nice to black people whenever I see them.  They are just another person to me.  I don't see race."  Although you may not be directly involved with causing the suffering of certain people groups in this country, our turning-our-faces-away has perpetuated and legitimized the unjust systems many have to live with.

If you have Netflix, please watch 13th.  I watched this documentary about the 13th Amendment and my heart broke.  Growing up, I learned about Martin Luther King Jr., Harriet Tubman, Malcolm X, some of the Civil Rights Movement, feeling like racism and hatred was from way in the past.  Now 28, I'm amazed this movement was only like 50 years ago.  I just assumed things were better for black people now.  Where this may be true for some, it is not the case for most.  This documentary was difficult to watch but I couldn't turn my face away.  Given the chance to hear someone's entire story of suffering uninterrupted by my assumptions and comments, I had to watch.  Living in a neighborhood with mostly black people, I feel the weight of this history in their families, their schools, their streets. 

As a staff at 2nd Mile, we started watching this documentary.  We watched the first half last week.  Having white and black coworkers made the experience so much sweeter, harder, stronger.  Our boss (black) broke down in tears when describing his heart for the African American male.  Our high school director (black) broke down in tears when sharing about his murdered friend and how this friend can't meet his white church's definition of a real man because this friend has never seen one.

Colin Kaepernick.  Chances are if you know who he is, you have an opinion on this guy.  Those against him talk of the disrespectful stance towards the flag, America, those who died for this country.  This view, like any conflict with anyone ever, involves a perspective that has nothing to do with his reasons for kneeling during the anthem.  Do you know his reasons for kneeling?  If you do, did you hear these reasons from him or another source?  More importantly, if you talk about these things (with words from our mouths not words put online), who do you talk to about these things?  People that will agree with you?  People that won't object or are too scared to offer their opinion to you?  If interested, here's Kaepernick's Press Conference.

In America, people today have to deal with the evil and sinful decisions of people who lived hundreds of years ago.  The ripple effects of that evil are rampant in areas like where I live.  Nobody wants to take ownership of these evils because it's easy to deflect.  The reason Black Lives Matter and phrases like police brutality and white privilege are in conversations today are not just trying to have something to argue about.  People are dying!  People are struggling to survive every day!  And obviously it's not just black people.  But black people have a unique American history, one of great suffering that we choose to turn our faces from and ignore.

So what do we do?  How can such a big problem like this be rectified?  Let's first diagnose a smaller conflict.  If I say hurtful words to my wife and have wronged her, how do I rectify that situation?  I own my wrong and I apologize.  I do what I can to right the wrong and ask, sometimes beg, for forgiveness.  Does this process translate to big things such as genocide, racism, slavery, etc.?  I believe so.  Often before I apologize to my wife, there's is a conversation where her feelings trump mine.  As Kaepernick states, there needs to be a conversation, an understanding as to what has happened.  There needs to be a collective of white people taking ownership (however relevant).  There needs to be an extension of love, actual equality, and above all else a big huge and truly HUMBLE apology, seeking forgiveness.  One of white America's biggest corporate sins is pride and selfishness.  How does an entire majority of a country collectively make this apology?  That seems insane.  Well, I believe nothing short of a Great Awakening can accomplish this.  As I need to get right with my wife, I also need to get right with God, who I have ultimately offended by my sin.

The way these elections are shaping up, it can be easy to feel hopeless, like we are getting further away from God, from any sort of reconciliation between white and black.  Often times in the Bible, Israel would go further and further from God before coming back to him.  This country, although in pretty bad shape, is hopefully closer to humility, closer to realizing how far we've turned away from God, and how little we have taken God seriously, even us proclaiming to be Christians and lovers of the things of God (justice and mercy).

I encourage you to be humble when in conflict, quick to apologize and own your wrongdoing despite how right and justified you feel.  Lastly, please watch 13th if you can.  It is powerful and humbling.  Let me know your thoughts if you do.  We can have a conversation about it!