Am I Being A Firefly?

Have you ever tried to snatch a fire fly out of the air while it is dark? It is pretty difficult, is it not? One moment the fire fly is right in front of you, the next moment the light has vanished and there is no trace of the friendly greenish yellow light. When I fail to open my mouth and speak, perhaps I am a lot like a fire fly. My flight leads me right by the very faces of those in need of God's light, but I only give them flashes of what they need desperately, the love of God.

Jesus said something similar in Matthew 5:15-16.

You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven. (ESV)

 If we are the light of the world, should we be flashing our lights whenever we feel like it? No, rather we should strive to keep our light in the open, and not under a bowl or basket. Light is meant to be seen. Light is meant to guide. And God's light in us is meant to love.

Just before this passage about being a light, Jesus had been telling his disciples what is commonly referred to as the Beatitudes. The last one he mentioned before launching off into the topic of us being salt and light was this, "Blessed are you when others revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you." (ESV) Jesus had been talking about how his followers would be persecuted just as the prophets before, but they were to rejoice despite the fact. And they were to rejoice because their reward would be great in heaven. This is an awesome reason, but because Jesus went on to talk about being a light, I believe that the two thoughts are connected.

Jesus must have been saying, "Look here, your reward will be great in heaven when you are persecuted for my sake. Not only that, you are going to make a difference in the world. You will be the salt and the light of the world. Your persecution will not go to waste; it will be used for my glory!" Wow! Isn't that an amazing promise!

So what am I doing covering up the light that has been given to me freely? Should fear of rejection hold me back when my reward will be great, and the long term affects will be far reaching? How are you hiding your light? Lets stop being fire flies. Let us hold our lights steady, and not fly away from opportunity.

Obligation For Evangelism

Ever since the summer of 2012, my desire to spread good news began to spread like wild fire within my soul, but my body was unwilling to step out of it's safety bubble. Many times I reached out to pop the bubble, but held back, fearing the consequences. God has shown me what he can do, providing I am willing to speak, but fear still plagues my mind. Even today, as I was counting inventory at Valent Aerostructures, the Spirit prompted me to step out and ask two of my co-workers what church they were a part of. I failed, like many times before. My mind scrambled as I cried out, "Surely not Lord!" However his command rang clear and I turned away.

For a long time, I did not know why I felt so passionately about sharing the good news. Thankfully God revealed this when I attended Ozark Christian College as a Freshman in the Spring of 2013. Dr. Gary Zustiak, in Old Testament History of all things, brought our attention to a passage in 2 Kings 7. Samaria was under siege and all seemed hopeless. The people were so hungry, and munched away on their own children. In their distress, the Lord God had mercy on the people and drove the Syrians away. And the story picks up in 2 Kings 7:8-9 when four lepers decided in desperation to give themselves up to the Syrian encampment. Only thing was, it was abandoned and full of loot...

8 And when these lepers came to the edge of the camp, they went into a tent and ate and drank, and they carried off silver and gold and clothing and went and hid them. Then they came back and entered another tent and carried off things from it and went and hid them.
9 Then they said to one another, “We are not doing right. This day is a day of good news. If we are silent and wait until the morning light, punishment will overtake us. Now therefore come; let us go and tell the king's household.” English Standard Version (ESV)

 At first glance, this story has nothing to do with telling everyone about Jesus, but an interesting parallel can be drawn. As Christians, we have been saved from death, from eternal death in hell. However, many around us are in the dark and do not realize that they can be saved! It can truly be said that these days are days of good news, but we remain silent. We are not doing right to leave the city in the dark!

Not long after Zustiak's lesson from 2 Kings, I was reminded of a verse James 4:17 which says, "Anyone then, who knows the good he ought to do and doesn't do it, sins (NIV 84)." So not only are we not doing right, we are sinning when we refuse to spread the Gospel. When God's word revealed this to me, I was shocked. And the passion inside of me is now more than a passion, it is a necessity.

I am afraid that even these verses and a whole research paper that I did on the fear of evangelism has not completely got my body moving. Every day, it is a constant battle between mind and soul, and the majority of the time I have kept my lips zipped shut. And this is why I am starting this blog. Something needs to motivate me toward action. With further research and the support of an online community, and most importantly a God who backs up the project, I believe that my life will change. And I hope and pray that you will change as well.

So here is my question for all of you. Do you also have the same struggle? If so, are you making any headway in overcoming your fear of spreading the good news? If not, how do you go about spreading God's good news? I would love to hear back from every one of you, just leave a post below.

God as the Orchestrator

The first phone call for potential kids we could take care of, came rather quickly after Mom and Dad received their license to be foster parents. My whole family had sat down around oval dining room table for supper. I was the eldest among my brothers and sister. Kaytlin was next in line, two years younger than myself. My serious minded brother Alex was next, and Cory, the family clown was the youngest.

Mom spoke up and said, “We just got a call, asking us to take in two girls.” She went on to tell us the ages. “There is one issue,” she said, “The parent's rights have not yet been severed.”

This blew it in my mind. Tears creeped into my eyes and I fell apart. To this day, I am not sure why. I ran outside and cried my heart out. In my mind, there was no way I could handle it if I got close to two new sisters and then had to separate from them, because their parents had improved their lives.

Now, I am sure it was a God thing, because my parents would tell you today that my little fit kept them from taking in those two girls. God had a different sibling group in mind for our family, and it was not those two young girls. I am convinced that God works in mysterious ways.



Since my parents home schooled me, I received a health assignment from my Mom that required interview someone from the health department. Being the shy person I was at the time, I could not bring myself to do such an outgoing act. Not my brightest moment in the world...

However, Mom had sympathy on me this once, and said that I would have to go with them to one of the foster care classes instead since they were doing a unit on first aid. We left my sister Kayt and my brothers at Linda Tweedy's house and made our way to the class.

Somewhat vaguely, I remember tinge of disgust that I felt toward one of the teachers that was a smoker. I could smell it on her clothes. Why would God use people such as her to help little kids? Certainly there is someone better than that? Despite the smell of smoke on her, I soon found her heart to be of gold when it came to the children in the foster care system. Being only ten or eleven at the time, I had no right to judge. God is the judge, not me.

Besides the amazingly rich peanut butter fudge I ate at that meeting, I remember nothing else of this episode.

Led To Care

This is the beginning of my family's adventures into the world of conflicting DNA. It had been my family's desire for a time to help young children in need of a family. While the idea brought chills to my bones, I never considered the possibility until the year of 2005.

Mom had a vision on the way back home. Of a girl with piercing blue eyes and tears in her eyes. The vision was so vivid that Mom was convinced that she could recognize her on sight. Led by the Holy Spirit, and the consistent prayers of my sister Kayt (age 10), Mom and Dad began taking foster care classes through The Farm.

I was age twelve at the time, still in that stage of growth where time seems to creep at the pace of a snail. So, the idea of having new siblings was only a possibility at its best. Possibility became reality when agents from The Farm began inspecting our house for child safety. They combed the house checking the most ridiculous things. Every outlet needed a child proof cover, gas heaters needed to be vented even if they were vent-less (go figure...), and our favorite platform jumping area was needed a barricade. Despite the inspection, our house passed and my parents received a temporary license.

While we were going into this as an adoptive resource family (meaning that we would only consider kids who's parent's rights had already been severed), my parents figured we would be able to handle the temporary stays of children taken into police custody. That's when we received a call asking if we could care for a young boy named Shawn for a week.

It was weird, let me tell you, having a complete stranger living in the house. And he had some language that made me cringe. Not that he said cuss words, but it was very colorful. For example, the next day after he arrived at our house, my family all crawled into our white mini van. As I turned to sit, Shawn questioned me, “You know what would be funny?”

“What?” I said.

He held up a stick and said, “If I shoved this up your butt hole!” A grin spread across his face.

My Mom gasped and carefully explained that our household rules prohibited such language. That God would want us to uplift each other rather then put others down. He told me sorry and life proceeded.

Ultimately, I felt bad for Shawn. His agent had told him when he arrived that he would stay at our house for a full week. However, Monday rolled around and he was told otherwise. He was to leave that day and he wanted to stay. He pleaded with his agent to stay, but the system had decided. Despite only spending three days with him, Shawn had saw something in our family that he wanted.

A month later, we received a letter by snail mail from Shawn. Enclosed was a broken arrow head. I still have his token of gratitude to this day. I probably will never meet him again, but perhaps the few days we spent with him planted some seeds that God will water throughout his life.