Unrelenting Faith

Most of us have heard his story by now.  Iranian pastor Yousef Nadarkhani, 34 year old husband and father of two, was arrested in October 2009.  His persecution began when he protested a government policy requiring his sons study the Koran in school.  Afterwards, secret police arrested him for apostasy (converting from Islam) and evangelism of Muslims.

He was tried, convicted, and sentenced to death.  His case was pleaded all the way to the top Iranian court where his conviction was upheld.  At this point, he could be executed at any time.  He has been told if he will recant his faith in Jesus Christ, he will live.

He refuses.  Heaven applauds.  The world is stunned.

I look into this man's eyes and smile. This one man is rocking our comfortable world with his unrelenting faith.

We are moved by his strength.  But if all Christians do is read his story, have pity, and move on, how are we different from non-believers? 

But, what should we do?  We should pray diligently.  Not once but continually.

Pastor Yousef is just an ordinary man, like you and me, in need of divine grace to fight the good fight, to finish the race, and to keep the faith.  He writes in a letter to his church, "Your loyalty to God is the cause of my strength and encouragement."

Through the simple and mighty act of prayer, we can be part of his church.  Will you join me in praying for Pastor Yousef  and those affected by his witness?

______________________________

Sunday:  Faith to grow stronger than his fear
His church, as they worship this day without him

Monday:  Physical health as he withstands hardships in prison.
His wife, Fatemeh as she carries on the faith

Tuesday:  Mental health as he endures intense pressure to recant
His two sons, 8 and 9 years old to find comfort in their Heavenly Father

Wednesday:  Comfort from the presence of God and prayers of many
The world to have hearts to understand this that is worth dying for

Thursday:  Spiritual strength to erase doubts
Fellow inmates and jailers to see his faith and remember

Friday:  Words while the eye of the world is upon him.
Iranian officials' hearts to be softened and changed

Saturday:  Memory to recall verses and songs of comfort and strength
Christians worldwide to be spurred on to increased faith and prayer

 ______________________________

What else can we do?  Those of you that are Twitterpated can Tweet for Yousef.  You can also write a respectful letter to Iranian Ambassador to the United Nations at the following address:

The Honorable Mohammed Khazaee

Ambassador and Permanent Representative

Permanent Mission of the Islamic Republic of Iran to the United Nations

622 Third Avenue

New York City, New York 10017

Fax: 1.212.867.7086

Email: iran@un.int

More Information:

Yousef's Letter to his Church

Become Aware of Persecution

I Am Momma She-Ra

Sometimes I feel like I am a total momma failure.  I yell at my girls.  I don't have plans for dinner.  The clothes are all dirty.  The floors are even dirtier.  I just want to go back to bed.

Today is not that day.  Today I felt like She-Ra.  Princess of Power.  Twin sister of He-Man.  But better.  Momma She-Ra.  Here is my stunning likeness.  Just add five kids.

Yep.  Five kids.  Today I took those five kids on an outing.  No one died and no one got lost.  The hardest part was getting all of them in and out of the van.  After pushing and rearranging seats, they all finally fit.  Piece of cake.  Princess of Power is only slightly perspiring.

 

We went to church to make a mayhem video for Sunday morning.  Mayhem happens to be these kids' specialty, so they did great.  Oscar worthy.  Then we played in the gym.  Running, screaming, and only mild arguments.  

 

And how does a super hero get kids to leave a gym full of balls?  Momma She-Ra promises them candy from the bank brandishes her sword with much fanfare and the children happily follow. 

 

The sidekicks squeezed back into the borrowed van.  All still happy.  Mamma She-Ra gloried in her triumph.  We rolled up to the bank window to make a deposit.  The teller looked in, laughed, and asked how many suckers I needed.  When I told her five, she laughed again and shook her head.

Laugh all you want lady.  But be warned.  If you laugh any harder, I might just take my posse out of this car and bring them inside your peaceful little bank.  Make my deposit in your lobby.  Then we'll be the ones laughing.  I guess she can't see my sword from her pedestal.

The superhero club rounded out the day with a magical car wash, calendar time, Daily News, memory verses, Queen Esther, the letter E, reading, journals, lunch, nap, math, and science.

Learning, errands, and fun all day with no injuries to report.

I am Momma She-Ra.  Hear me roar.

Here's the news from those sweet babies and a few more.
To the parents of Jaycee: Did you know this?
To the parents of Gideon: If anyone can, he can.

Mildly Inappropriate

My love affair with chocolate could definitely be described as mildly inappropriate.  Truly, I consume an insane amount of the deliciousness everyday.  I am not really a nice person without it.

Hence my morning breakdown.  I had an Oreo after my breakfast of donut holes.  It was wonderful.  Double Stuff.  Mmmm.  But, upon devouring said Oreo (in the pantry so the children wouldn't see), I made an unsettling discovery.

Our house was out of chocolate.

This is not an acceptable occurrence, and one I cannot handle with grace or dignity.  Don't judge.  I have a cocoa bean deficiency.  Very rare, but very real.

I searched the freezer.  Ice cream?  Nope.  Finished that off several days ago.  Frozen cookie dough?  Nada.  Ate most of them uncooked.  Who has time when you're craving?

What about the candy dish?  Yuck.   Just a bunch of non-chocolate reject candy.  The pantry?  Finished off the Chips Ahoy yesterday, and you know the sad tale of the Oreos.

I was about to despair when I remembered the cooking cabinet.  I always have chocolate chips.  Empty.  I felt the walls of my house closing in on me.  Six children.  Can't go to the grocery store until Patrick gets home at 4:30.  What if I don't make it that long?

Utter and complete misery.  My wonderful and, might I say, wise husband bought me chocolate last night.  But now the Twix and KitKat wrappers in the bathroom trash can mock me.

Hours later I have given up hope of having a normal life.  Then, the amazing happened.

The doorbell rang.

We all jumped.  It was nap time, and no one comes to my house at nap time.  I opened the door to see this blessing:

A truly wonderful woman gave me a gift card to Godiva after Christmas.  I wished I could kiss her right then.  I had placed an order and forgotten about it.

I shouted, "Thank you!" to the startled UPS man.  I ripped open the package and started taking pictures.  I am pretty sure the awake children thought I was insane.  It is best they learn the truth now.  Maybe I'll even stop hiding in the pantry.

Ahh....chocolaty caramel goodness.  I ate an undisclosed amount.  My smile came back.  The children laughed.

It may sound crazy, but this is how I know God loves me. 

He is always doing things to surprise me.  To bless me.  To make me walk with a lighter step.

Some days it is a smile.  Others it is children who obey the first time.  It has been a card.  It has been a hug.  Today it was chocolate.  Thank you, Jesus.  I love you, too. 

Here is the Sunrise School news.  Doesn't it pale in comparison to the miracle of chocolate delivered to a doorstep in the middle of a crisis?



Death of a Fish

Our beloved fish Swimmy has died.  He was a good ole fish who served us well.  He survived a year of second grade - living through weekends and holidays of total isolation and little food.  This summer he retired from second grade and came to live at our house.

He seemed to enjoy his new life.  Then I went out of town for the weekend, entrusting the care of Swimmy and my two daughters to the husband.  Patrick was two for three.

Swimmy was belly up Monday morning.  His tank was in the kitchen.  The sink was right there.  I did what seemed natural and put him down the garbage disposal.  Didn't even think twice about it.  May he rest in pieces. 

My sister was appalled.  Apparently she thought this would have been more appropriate:

What's next?  Funerals for house flies?  Wakes for mosquitoes?  He's a fish, people!  Bless him to bits.

This fish was so beloved by all that his death came to the attention of my oldest daughter after only one week of him being departed.  Because of this, I did not really think she would be very affected by it.

I was wrong.

She cried and cried and cried.  After that, I didn't have the heart to tell her about the garbage disposal.  Maybe my sister was right.

We decided to use this as a teachable moment.  It's good to mourn.  It's ok to cry.  Let's talk about things we loved about Swimmy.  God loves us and is the only one who will never die or leave us.  You know, wise parent stuff.

Then Patrick chimes in with, "Do you want to watch Finding Nemo?  That's a happy fish movie."

Really?  More tears.  More talking.  More holding.

And suddenly the inevitable question, "Is Swimmy in heaven?"

I had no response prepared.  I was like a squirrel frozen in the middle of the road with a truck headed straight for me.  Which way do I go?  My mind froze.

Before I could stop my squirrel self, I ran to one side of the road and told her yes.  Abby's face lit up.  Thud.  Hit the wheel of the truck.  Cannot move to the right side of the road now.  It got worse.  She thinks my Meamaw is taking care of Swimmy.  Great.

Do I go back now, days later, drag my limp squirrel self to the other side, crush Abby's one glimmer of hope, and be hit by the truck's other tire?  Or do I stay flattened on this side of the road and let her keep believing a lie?

Perhaps I'll just wait till she mentions it again.  That sounds wonderfully lazy, and therefore must be the wrong answer.  But what's a squirrel to do?

If I am wrong, and there are animals in heaven, I hope Swimmy doesn't recognize me.

Rainy Days

Remember recess as a kid?  It's what you lived for.  It is the reason you liked school.  When asked your favorite subject, your response was always, "RECESS!"

There are some serious crazies out there that try to minimize or do away with recess.  I won't bore you with the research about the benefits of outdoor play, self-directed activity, and free time.  To sum up, it is important.  Especially for preschoolers and early grades. 

Sunrise School's children must agree with the research.  The have a deep passion for recess.  We talk about it all day.  All day.  The past weeks have been rainy.  Great for the earth.  Utter sadness for kids.  So what do we do?

Well, lots of things.  Our current favorite activity is working out on the Nintendo Wii with Mr. Patrick.

 Our kids have become excellent fake mountain bikers.  We know when to pedal and when to squat down.

There are many other things that make the mourning of recess seem not quite so acute.  Here are some ideas of things to do on rainy days.

1. Nintendo Wii
2. Dump out the paper recycling trash.  Give them glue, scissors, and markers.  Let them make a creation.
3. Hide and Go Seek - YOU play, too.
4. Make a "train" out of dining room chairs.
5. Sidewalk chalk on the porch
6. Make stuffed animal towers/pyramids.  See who can make the tallest.
7. Build a living room fort with chairs and blankets
8. Sardines (Backwards hide and go seek.  One person hides.  Everyone counts.  When you find the person, you hide with them.)
9. Dress up.  If you want to be really fun, let them put on some of your clothes, or daddy's clothes.
10. Fill up the bathtub.  Let them experiment with what things sink/float.
11. Cook something together.  Let them measure, pour, and help clean up.
12. Follow the leader.  As long as the leader changes frequently, they love it.
13. Fill the bathtub with pillows and books.  Let them have a "book bath."  Just make sure you talk with them about not turning on the water.
14. Rain boots, old clothes, and umbrellas.  As long as it's not lightening, they'll be fine, and so will you.

Comment with some more rainy day ideas, if you got them.

More exciting news from the lives of preschoolers:

What Does Jesus Look Like?

Artists from around the world have made renditions of Jesus throughout the ages.  I have researched the appearance of Jesus.  (By research, I of course mean watching the History Channel.)  From this wide <sarcastic voice> pool of research, I have found that no one really knows.

There are conjectures.  There are digital images based off of old skeletons (seriously).  But there are, thankfully, no pictures or even eyewitness drawings of Jesus.  Instead we have the refreshing joy of not knowing what He looked like.  And that, to me, is so wonderful.

Because of the mystery of Jesus' appearance, cultures tend to draw Him as they themselves are.  Some do not like this.  They view it as people molding God to be who they want Him to be.

Not me.  I love that we see Jesus as we are.  It speaks to me of our God being a God to all races.  All cultures.  All people.  He is my God in a personal way.  He lives in me.

So, without further ado, I present to you two Hannah Awards for Best Jesus Pictures.

I will now give out the Hannah Award for Best Jesus Hat.  Hands down, it goes to Mexican sombrero-wearing Jesus.  I love everything about this picture.  It makes me happy all the way to my toes.  Hola Jesus.

On to the Hannah Award for Best Disciples.  This one goes to Chinese Jesus.  Notice his disciples' robes and hair.  Fabulous.  How great is it that a country so bent on censoring the gospel of Christ cannot stop its citizens from loving Him?  This picture makes me want to hug a Chinese Christian.

What about the picture of Jesus that speaks most to my heart?  I had a hard time deciding.  Many pictures show Him sorrowful and slightly anorexic.  Hardly how I picture my Lord and Savior.  I also don't really see Him as having that odd halo/hat thingy.  Seems suspect.

I searched high and low on the Internet for this picture I carry in my heart of Jesus.  I could never quite find the right one.  Probably because the heart picture of Jesus is different for everyone.

While not exactly what I see, this Rembrandt portrait comes pretty close.  He just looks like a normal guy (Isaiah 53:2).  One kids would like.  Real.  Kind.  Thoughtful.  The more I look at this picture, the more I like it.  I want to know this guy.  That is how I think Christ was.  Is.

No matter what image we have of Jesus' physical appearance, His message never waivers.  He is the Christ.  The way.  The truth.  The life.  To know Him is to be changed because of love.

Further reading for the nerd (like myself):  This article (http://christiancentury.org/article/2011-11/faces-jesus) talks about how Rembrandt painted portraits of Jesus.  He used real models that were Jewish.  Both of those things were unheard of and considered almost heretical.  Two of his portraits of Jesus hung in his own bedroom.

Watch Out 2012

Here at Sunrise School we have been discussing the new year.  We've steered clear of Mayan predictions, but we have discussed making resolutions.  I'm sure you will note that our first three seem to share a similar habit in different forms.  Enjoy.



  

One may question if I have made a resolution.  It is possible that I am a resolution junkie.  My resolutions cannot be contained to just one once a year.  I'm always resolving within myself to do or not do something or the other.  Here is my current list of resolutions.  This is in no way final or binding.

1. Act in love first, not anger.
2. Speak to my children with a kind tone of voice when I am frustrated.
3. Read my Bible more.
4. Call my grandmother more.
5. Pray more.
6. Get home earlier on Tuesday nights.
7. Use lotion on my poor dry hands.
8. Shave my legs more.  (Not more of my leg, but more times.)
9. Do the projects I pin on Pinterest.
10. Cook different meals.
11. Cut back on my chocolate intake.  (I eat a truly alarming amount of it in any given day.)
12. Pluck my eyebrows more frequently.
13. Clean my house more.
14. Not let the bushes take over the sidewalk.
15. Plant some herbs.
16. Try eating the veggies I make my kids eat.
17. Work out.  (Last on my list for many reasons.)

January 2013 will hold a review of the list and scoring.  My goal is 50%.  Much more satisfying than those people who make one resolution and fail.  What kind of test is that?  A zero or a hundred?  No thanks.  I prefer to play the odds.

In other news:  alligators (of course), sleeping disorders, animal cruelty, and reading.

And in even more recent news:  neglected yard work, Hugsie (of course), programs, presents from dear friends, and visits to grandmas.

And you thought your life was busy.