Rant

Today I was driving, minding my own business when *WHAM* out of nowhere I was forced to look at images of aborted babies.  There was a baby so small it fit in a womans hand, a baby so small its foot was compared to an adult fingertip, a baby missing half its head because of some brutal procedure.

I realize this is a controversial subject.

I realize this is a controversial thing even within the church.

Sure we all agree abortion is wrong, but how we go about dealing with can vary so strongly.

There are the silent protestors who walk around visible places with duct tape on their mouths to represent those whose lives have been aborted.  There are those who stand on street corners and hold up huge posters with extremely graphic images.  There are those who picket the clinics.  There are even those who are so far gone that they go and shoot doctors.

What are we doing?

Have any of these methods actually caused a woman to change her mind?  Have there been women who were going to have an abortion, only to change their minds after being assulted by crowds of people chanting and holding signs and pictures?  Has a woman ever decided to keep her child after seeing such vulgar pictures of aborted babies on the side of the road?

How helpful are these methods?

I, personally, have issues with these ways of doing things.

So you have a heart for the unborn, wonderful!  Why not donate your time/services in a positive way?  Why not volunteer at a crisis pregnancy center?  Or answer phones somewhere?  Or get involved in (gasp) Planned Parenthood as a means of being someone who can bring help and options from the place a woman most likely would go first?

I know that I don't post things like this on my blog.  I like to keep it light and fun.  But every time I see these people lining the street holding these pictures I just get fired up.  How UNhelpful can you be?  I always want to stop and ask them why they're doing it, what they think is being accomplished by this form of "helping".  How many women have pulled over and ran and thanked them, they hadn't really thought about it, how can they change their life?  I think of people who have had abortions.  Whether they admit it outright or not, they are suffering with the choices they made.  And do you think seeing these images helps them in their guilt?  Do you think it helps them get over the haunting memories?

Because I don't.

I think that love and grace and patience and mercy is what these women need.  Not another person telling them they're wrong.  Not another person saying they don't know what they're doing.  Even if they don't.

And what about those who've lost babies naturally?  These images cannot possibly bring any sort of joy or peace or resolution to anybody.  I have lost a baby.  A son.  I went into early labor and had him at 5 months.  And I held him on my chest as he slowly died from his underdevolped lungs.  Did I rush out and wave him over my head in front of an abortion clinic or Starbucks?  No.  I grieved.  Like any normal person would.  And when I see these cruel images, they fling me right back to that moment in time over a decade ago.  And do I feel grateful for that?  Heck no.  If anything I feel incensed, furious.  I was having a good day.  I was doing my thing.  And who are these people to so rudely throw such a deep, intimate moment of my life in my face by having these images up at stoplights?

And what about children?  Those who weren't aborted?  I feel so bad for the mom or dad driving with their children.  "Mommy what's wrong with that baby?"  "Daddy what happened to that baby?"  How do you answer those questions as a parent?  How do you answer those questions as a parent who's maybe had an abortion in the past?

Why do we do this?

Why stop at abortions?  Premarital sex is wrong in the eyes of the church, why not stand on street corners holding up pornography?  Murder is wrong, why not stand with signs of gruesome murders (I guess technically we do)?  Gluttony is wrong, why not stand around holding signs of massively obese people?  The list goes on and on.  Adultry, gambling, drunkenness, idoltry, theivery, lying, cheating....

Oh I'm sorry, I suppose that would be offensive.

New Year, New You...or something

So here we are.  2012.  I did not uphold my blogging resolution last year of an entry a week.  But that is the beauty of a new year.  A fresh start.  And this year I'm not going to make a much simpler blogging goal.  At the begining of 2013, I would like to be able to look at my blog history and see one entry under every month.  If it happens to be more, great!

Easy peasy.  Especially considering I only made it until August of 2011, I've got a nice little backlog I can access should I need too.

:)

God Knows Best (Trust Me)

This past spring I had to buy four new tires. It was frustrating to me. In total, I had to spend upwards of $500. I decided that I could do more to save up the money that I had spent, so I took another job. I did not consult God in this. Honestly it didn't even cross my mind to, I just was worried about replacing that money as soon as possible.

So I accepted the offer of working in a store part time this past May. And I really loved it. I loved working in retail again; I loved having a job that made me work hard and sweat a lot. I loved the people I worked with, the product I sold and just being back in a retail setting.

All was going well, but I began to notice that I was constantly tired. Not just kind of sleepy, but couldn't keep my eyes open to save my life exhausted. I began to decline offers of going to social activities. I began to withdraw from all aspects of life except for work and sleep. I've always struggled to spend time in the Word. I love it when I do it, but I lack in the discipline. And I found that my time with God went from so-so to non-existent. I somehow kept justifying it in my head with my one goal: $500. The ridiculous part was that at minimum hours and minimum wage, I wasn't coming anywhere near that amount of money. I barely saw my family, even though I live with them! But somehow I stayed convinced that this was the right thing for me to be doing.

God is merciful and gracious.

Every year the church I'm involved in goes away together for a weekend. This year was no exception. While at the OCM Conference this year, God spoke so clearly and wonderfully (as He does). These are two prophetic words that came back to back this year that I knew they were for me:

“Do you hear me? My child, yes you, do you hear me my child? I have not called you to a moment in a meeting, I have called you to a lifetime of repentance. I have not called you to a moment in a meeting, I have called you to a lifetime of death. Do you hear me my child? I have not called you to a moment in a meeting, I have called you to a lifetime of picking up your cross. And you, yes you, the one who is so busy, the devils tactics of busyness have taken over your life. Yes you, listen, I am speaking to you—so busy you don't have time for me, filled your life up with so many things. And you have hidden from me behind your busyness. Examine your life. Not a moment, don't just take this moment, examine your life... ...See I have not called you for a moment in a meeting, I have called you to examine yourself for a lifetime—to allow my strength to surge through you, purify you, to touch every area, even the dark and hidden ones, every area. See I have a plan for you that is going to take so much more, but is going to be worth every moment of deciding to lay your life down. Every moment of death you give me, I'll breathe my life into you.”

And then this word came immediately following:

“For radical people make radical decisions. For you are not radical by association. You are not radical merely because you belong to a church that is radical. You are radical because everyday you wake up, and you make a decision to follow me, says the Lord. A radical people make radical, daily decisions. Not impulsive and foolish, but in faith—being sure of what you hope for and certain of what you do not see. I am calling you to walk in boldness and grace. For as I just said I am calling you, and I call you today, this day, and all the days of your life to live a life of radical decisions. And know this, that every time you make a decision, to not follow the ways of this word, every time that you trade the ways of this world you gain me says the Lord. And I meet you in fullness and in power and grace, for I'll meet you right now in this place and I'll fill you with faith and I'll fill you with grace to make a decision for me says the Lord.”

I found myself standing there, arms up, tears streaming down my face in repentance. I knew I had been wrong to take a second job. I decided right then and there to quit the part time job when I got back home.

Except I didn't.

After I got back, I continued to go to my second job, and I just loved it so much I thought surely it couldn't be a bad thing for me. So I didn't quit. And I still loved it. Up until this past Friday it was great.

But God is a patient God. And He is jealous for me.

Suddenly on Friday I found myself in such a state of physical, mental and emotional exhaustion that the mere thought of going to work at the store sent me into an all out breakdown. I was on call that night and when I called, certain that I wouldn't have to go in, they said they needed me. After I hung up, I was ruined. I all out cried for about half an hour until my brother called me down for dinner. I went to the table like that and cried in my tacos. Luke and Heather kept saying things like, “Why are you doing this? You need to quit. God told you to quit and you didn't do it. You need to quit Sarah.” All of which I knew were true.


So, I quit.

And it was horrible.

I am not proud to tell you this, but I did not give a notice. I just quit. I have never done that before and I don't plan on ever doing it again. But I had to quit that job for my sanity and physical health. I was beyond wrecked. I had been working 13-15 hour days and barely sleeping because I was so wound up when I'd get home I'd just lay in my bed for hours.

But I'll tell you what, it didn't matter how awful it was to just quit a job that I loved and have to tell a boss that I loved and leave coworkers that I loved, because once I left that store and got into my car to go home, the most amazing sense of peace fell over me.

I knew that I had done the right thing.

I spent a good chunk of that night and the next day (yesterday) repenting and with Him.

And He is wonderful to me.

All this to say—when God tells you to do something, do it. Everyone will be better off for it! He truly does know what He's doing and he truly does have your best at heart.

Testing a Theory

I like to be in control.  I'd venture to say that you probably like to be in control too.

I can spend so much time attempting to keep all the plates spinning while holding all the reigns.  The funny thing about control for me personally, is that it's an all or nothing thing.  Once I start slipping in my control of say, keeping the bathroom clean, I'm more likely to say "screw it" than try to hop back on the horse. 

Defeatism at it's best.

Not-good-enough-ism at it's worst.

Because lets face it, once you're defeated all the lies start coming in of how you're not good enough, strong enough, smart enough, stable enough, disciplined enough or whatever enough to stay in control.

Not being in control can cause huge amounts of anxiety in my life.  I like to be the one driving.  I like to know where things are.  I like to be in charge.

The problem comes when when I (inevitably as we all do) lose control.  I am not the one in charge.

And yet in the moments of losing the control, I find I am the most in tune with myself.  I am forced to grow in the face of a challenge.  (The time I missed a connecting flight and was stuck for 10 hours in San Fransisco alone comes to mind)  And those are the times of my life that I look back on as some of the best.

Some might call me bossy, others might say I can be overbearing and to others I might seem lazy.  But the truth is that at every point I am flailing around trying to be in control. 

This is not fun.

Therefore, I am going to test this by giving up control.

Yes.  This summer, I, Sarah Elizabeth Freeborn, am relinquishing control.

Scary.

Exhilirating.

31 Day Challenge

I read a interesting article this week.  It was about these women who made one small change in their every day lives for 31 days.  One woman did push ups for one minute a day, another wore a dress/skirt every day, for 31 days. 

I've decided to try it out myself.  31 days.  Not too overwhelming, but enought to form a habit and see change.  I've decided to walk to 80th Street and back every day.  That's a total of 8 blocks.  It only takes 10-15 minutes, so it shouldn't be hard to do every day. 

Rain or shine.

You can click to read the article here.

If you decide to do it too, leave me a comment and let me know what you're going to do for the next 31 days!

Ketchup

I have lost my stride.  I was doing so well too!  I'm going to try and catch up this week by posting 3 (yes, three!) times.

And yes, I am counting this as one entry, because it's my blog and I can do what I want!  haha

Grampa Freeborn

My dad's dad died Sunday night (3/20/11).

I can count on one hand the number of times I've met him in my life.  Yet I feel so sorrowful.  I was fine all day on Monday, but this morning at work I was near tears the entire morning.  Finally I went in my boss' office just to hash it out and get on with the day.  When I walked in she immediately asked me if I was okay.  I burst in to tears and couldn't get ahold of myself.  After I was sobbing in her office for about 10 minutes, she said I should just go home; take a bereavement day.  I told her that wouldn't be necessary but then after about 5 more minutes of still not being able to get my emotions under control I agreed and left.  I was that girl you sometimes see driving who's a crying wreck and you wonder what happened.

I'm not exactly sure what was going on, but I do think I mostly just feel sad that I never really knew him.  I (obviously) have 4 grandparents.  Over the course of my life I have actually had 12 (from stepdad's parents, grandparents remarrying, great-grandparents).  And while statistically that seems great, I have only really known one of them.  


My Grama (Dorlene) Freeborn died when I was just a kid, I don't even remember how old I was.  I only remember meeting her one time.  My dad, mom and two younger brothers drove one summer all the way down to San Antonio, TX from Kenosha, WI in our VW Rabbit.  I met her down there.  She carried a pan of potatoes into my cousin Hannah's house and that's the only image I have of her in my mind.  She just keeps carrying that pan of potatoes through my memories.

My Grampa (John) Brandt I knew a bit more, but not too much.  He struggled as an alcoholic and about half of my few childhood memories involved him drinking too much.  The other half involve him just being a silly grampa.  Then when I was 8 or 9 he was diagnosed with Alzheimer's and he just slipped away.  By the time I was 14 he was totally gone and had to put into the care of a nursing home.  I'd go see him occasionally, but he was only a body in that bed.  He died not too long ago (3 years?  4?).  And while that was sad, it is true what they say that Alzheimer's patients die two deaths; and I had come to terms with him being gone a long time before he physically died.

My Grama (Phyllis) Brandt is still alive and well.  And she's the only one I really know.  

So that brings us to Grampa (J. Andrew) Freeborn.

He led a hard life.  He also led a wonderful life.  He knew the Lord very well.  He was a traveling preacher and would lead tent revivals all over the south when my dad was a kid.  He also struggled with being bipolar his entire life.  He wasn't even diagnosed until his thirties, but after that he spent many years in and out of psychiatric hospitals trying to stabilize himself.  After my Grama Freeborn died he remarried a lady I really loved as a grama named Arlene.  I'm not sure what happened, but they ended up divorcing.  He then married Geraldine.  And Grama Gerry is lovely.  She can also bake the best things of anyone in the south.  He founded a church in northern California, pastored numerous churches throughout his lifetime, taught at the International Bible College in San Antonio, and I'm sure did much more than I know of.

I suppose what really got me was all the comments people have been leaving on my dad's Facebook profile.  Here are some of my favorites, typos and all:

God bless you and your family, Michael. Your dad touched so many lives for the kingdom. I join with them in expressing my gratitude for such a man and for the season he spoke into my life.

Michael - We have appreciated your family very much. The practical application of the word was of the highest importance to your dad, and it has had a lasting impact on us. We bless your family today.

This is like the passing of an era. As long as I have had memory, Andrew was a part of it. We loved and respected his ministry and as a person. We were privileged to enjoy his company for a few months out of his life and he was like a brother. Our hearts are heavy this morning, but oh what a wonderful day for Andrew. All that he has loved, he has now obtained. Our love and prayers will be with you and the family. Please give Geri our best.

Michael and the family, As you know your mom and dad had a great deal to do with our early lives in ministry, when we were getting ready to go to Mexico, etc. They were always a blessing. I am sorry to hear of his passing, but I also know that he is happy in the presence of the Lord! How he must be rejoicing. We love all of you.

michael, i am so sorry to hear such sad news. our thoughts go with you as you travel...your dad was a good man, and dave came to the Lord under your dad's ministry. may you be comforted in Jesus...

Michael. I'm sitting here with tears running down, thinking about you and the family, lots of good memories of your precious dad and mom, knowing your pain, but, rejoicing in the Lord just knowing ....WONT' WE HAVE A TIME WHEN WE GET OVER YONDER. lots of prayers are coming your way. love you much!!!

We will never forget your Father; I always enjoyed his preaching when I had the privilidge to hear him. Heaven has welcomed a hero!

He has left a footprint on the lives of thousands and may we be stirred to follow his example.

Michael, sending condolences to you and your family. I remember classes with your dad (and "Queens of the Parsonage" with your mother). His class on "Names of God" was one of my favorites. It was your dad who encouraged me to to a 4th year to IBC. He was certainly a blessing to me…and I'm sure, to many others, as well.

so sorry about that....a great church pillar....

Michael--your Dad left a legacy that can only be measured in heaven. 

Sorry to hear that Mike, There is a lot of respect for him here.

Such fond memories of your Dad and Mom at Northern District, CA youth camps (including all you kids with them) - can't ever remember you kids not being with them on their annual trek to our camps. Your Dad was morning teacher and your Mom was camp nurse and all the influence they had with so many of us involved. We were so blessed by his ministry! The Lord comfort you and your family is our prayer.

I am sorry Michael. My mom told me the news yesterday. Your dad (and mom) are part of some of the earliest memories of my life! They were kinda like "superstars"! :D Feel comfort in the fact that so many people have felt loved by them and, in turn, we will not forget!

In reading these comments from strangers, I can't help but feel that I missed knowing an amazing man.  It's a strange thing grieving for someone you never knew.  And even though I never knew him in this lifetime, I know I'll have all of eternity to dance and shout with him.