You can't call this a sermon, per se, but at the suggestion of my District Superintendent, I shared the news of my adoption with my congregation via a sermon/testimony during our Sunday morning service. I invited a bunch of friends to come to worship that day, a few of whom came to support me but most of whom didn't have any idea why they were being invited! The whole day was a beautiful experience and I cherished having so many of my loved ones in one place at one time!
Here's the manuscript:
February 11, 2007
Jeremiah 17:7-8
Isaiah 6:8
Missed Messages, Mixed Messages, and Other “Coincidental” Happenings
Jeremiah 17:7-8 (The Message):
Blessed is the man who trusts me, God, the woman who sticks with God.They're like trees replanted in Eden, putting down roots near the rivers—Never a worry through the hottest of summers, never dropping a leaf,Serene and calm through droughts, bearing fresh fruit every season.
Isaiah 6:8 (The Message):
And then I heard the voice of the Master: "Whom shall I send? Who will go for us?"I spoke up, "I'll go. Send me!"
This morning’s message is going to be a little different. Most of you by now are probably used to me sharing a little bit of myself in my sermons, but this morning, as we continue in our sermon series exploring various aspects of prayer, I’d like to share with you some of my experiences about my own conversations with God.
I’m not going to stand up here this morning and share my life story, but I do want to share a few little clippets that have helped me to learn a thing or two about God and about something I feel God is calling me to do.
Now, I don’t want you to get too excited – I don’t want you to think “Finally! I’m going to hear how the preacher does it and then I’ll have all the answers! Once and for all, I’ll know the best way to pray!” Because I have to admit, that my story is as much about missing the message as it is about feeling like God and I are on the same page. My story is probably no different than yours, except in the details.
Russia
As you probably all know by now, I love to travel, particularly to the more exotic and random destinations, and especially when the purpose is some sort of mission trip. I’ve been on mission trips to Belize and Nicaragua, South Africa and Puerto Rico, the mountains of TN and NC and soon will add New Orleans. But today I want to share a little about my experience of finding myself in Russia – a place where the only thing I recognized was the McDonald’s golden arches!
Most of the mission trips I have been a part of have been as an extension of a ministry I am involved with – Wesley Foundation spring break trips or trips I have led through different church positions. But this trip was different. I couldn’t really explain it, but I just felt a call to be in ministry somehow, some way, in Russia, and so my first year at Duke I found myself searching out a way to go to Russia.
Only problem? Russia isn’t exactly a place you can just show up and proclaim your Christian faith and just be embraced! I quickly realized that I was going to have to rely on other people to make this trip possible. I found out about a group going to work at an orphanage, which was exactly what I was hoping to do. Perfect.
I filled out my application and began thinking about all the pieces that had magically fallen into place to make this trip a reality. The one friend I happened to tell about my secret dream happened to be an alum who had already been on my dream trip.
She also just happened to know that they were going again that spring and that they just happened to be looking for an additional chaperone. Oh, and applications were due that week and there just happened to be an extra spot open. A coincidence, my dream trip, or a calling to set aside time to be a part of a ministry that for some reason or another I was chosen to carry out? I couldn’t say.
I began writing letters and brainstorming ways to come up with the $2300 the trip was going to cost. I began fundraising through family and friends, put a letter in the church newsletter where I was on staff, and wrote a letter to the adult Sunday School classes.
I was beginning to admit that maybe, just maybe, God had a hand in what was happening. My prayers changed a little. From “Okay, God, I think I’ve got this one covered – I’ll let you know when I need you.” To “God, do you think you could let me know how this might work? What is your will for this trip?”
After counting the money I had raised from outside the church, I still needed $1200 towards the trip and $60 for shots for a total of $1260. I called the financial secretary at the church and asked her if by chance she could give me a rough estimate of how much money had come in from the church and she said she had just totaled it up and could give me an exact figure - $1255.
I got off the phone stunned. With the gracious gifts from the church, I came within $5 of a $2300 budget. More important, though was the lesson I learned. I lost. I lost control of the situation and God took control.
The trip was wonderful, my eyes were opened to just how difficult it is to be Christian in other parts of the world, just how much of a commitment it requires, and my heart would forever remember the endearing children we met, kids living in an orphanage who had nothing but who, out of nothing, were witnesses to us of the love of Christ.
I thought about those children this past April when I turned 30, because I had always promised myself that when I turned 30 if I was still single I would adopt, but I got a dog instead and I was busy looking ahead to what was going to come next, where I was going to be appointed after my 3 years of ministry at JUMC.
Appointment
You all probably know that when a church is preparing to receive a new pastor, the church (usually the Staff-Parish committee) puts together sort of a checklist of what they are looking for. Well, ministers do the same…but none of it is guaranteed. After I turned in my paperwork in January requesting a move, I spent the next few months talking with my DS about the grand plans I had.
My laundry list was long in what I was looking for in a church that would be a good fit – as I know yours was in what you were looking for in a new pastor. Some criteria were desires every pastor has for his or her church – a place where the people are on fire for Jesus Christ, where they want to grow and learn and serve, where they are willing to try new things and to reach out.
But then there were those selfish things…
Do you think it might be possible to please put me in a place where the church parsonage is NOT in the church parking lot? (too many horror stories about parishioners helping themselves to stuff in the pastor’s fridge or expecting the pastor (or pastor’s wife) to provide childcare in the parsonage every time there is a meeting).
Could I be in a location convenient to friends and shopping and restaurants? I’ve never really been one for country living…
Coming to Current Appointment
The day appointments were announced I met with my DS to find out where I was going, and I was terrified. I was just praying (yes, praying…) that it was at least in a town I had HEARD of before. I had come down to that. I remember sitting in the conference room at the district office and waiting. And waiting. And thinking about throwing up. “God, are you there?”
The thing about it is that I really do believe that God works through the district superintendents and the bishop in the appointment-making process. I truly did believe that, despite my laundry list of requests, I really would end up where God was calling me to be. Okay, so maybe I had grown a little in faith, maybe I was beginning to trust God’s promise, but that day sitting in that red vinyl chair at the district office it was hard to remind myself of that.
My DS, came in and sat down with a folder and faced me. She started out with saying something like, “…Well, I really hope that this appointment is going to be a good move for you.” (It sure felt like she was apologizing to me for something not yet revealed to me)
The thinking about throwing up feeling returned, and then when I feared she just might have the nerve to get up and ask me if I wanted a cup of coffee, she said, “You have been appointed to __.” My first response? I know where that is! I’ve been there!
That feeling that God was indeed in control and that things really would work out for his will returned. (pause) And here I am. I knew God was in control and I celebrated that God and I were on the same page about what I needed, but I had no idea at the time that my appointment here and my ministry was about to take a radical turn that I would not have anticipated.
My house
I can honestly say that at no point since I came to town have I questioned God’s hand in my appointment here. I am learning to trust God even more. The sticking point, as I’ve shared before, has been my house. I assumed that confidence that I was going where God was calling would be followed quickly, if not immediately, by the sale of my other house. That was not to be.
I shared a few months back that the questions surrounding my house have led me to many deep conversations with God. I have learned enough and grown enough to know that God has had control of my house and that, when the time was right, my house would sell. Problem was, I just couldn’t understand what God’s timing could possibly be. Why on earth could I still need to own a house in another town?
It was hard not to question just why I would need to own a house I never planned to live in again and how God could use the situation to bring His will to fruition, but I tried to be faithful.
I had made big plans for what I’d do once the house sold – a new (or at least newer, used) car, a lawn service and possibly someone to come in and vacuum once or twice a month.
I’ve told you that much of the story before, but today I would like to continue the amazing story of the journey God has led me on these past few months and the journey that I want to invite you to be on with me.
Week at the beach
In September the Staff-Parish Committee granted my request for a week at the beach, not for vacation but for fall planning. I went into that week with big plans of services I wanted to put together, sermons I would write, and quiet time I would have with God. And I did all those things.
I think it was the quiet time with God that got me. I had gone down to the coast with the prayer – “God, please just help me get to Christmas,” but God had answered in a way that was completely beyond anything I had expected.
In my time away, I reflected a lot on ministry here, on the community here, on our worship and our outreach, on what my role was to be in all of that. What I came away with was not only a solid vision of the worshipping life of our congregation but also the part you all already play, and could potentially play, in what God was calling me to do.
I went down to the beach fully focused on the ministry of the church, and God used that time to speak through that work and to nudge me towards something more. I sensed God calling out to me, “I have other plans for you.”
And so I returned home, I returned to church, and I found myself acutely aware of the love and support that I have found in this place, through each one of you, and also through other friends from a variety of times and places who I am blessed to have in my life.
A calling is a hard thing to discern. You’ve probably been there. You think that perhaps God is calling you to take a new job or teach a new class or volunteer for a new ministry or pursue a new relationship, or whatever it might be in your particular circumstance, but that in between time – all of that gray haze - can make it seem impossible to figure out how to get from point A to point B.
For me, being open to making the huge leap of faith I felt God calling me to, came down to finances. “God, I can’t afford all of this with the continued strain of my house payments. How about if I sort of test the waters while you work on selling my house?”
I did not possibly see how God could use the thorn of my house in the fulfillment of my call, but little things kept happening that forced me to listen. Mark knows some of this – a chance conversation, a happenstance meeting with just the right person, a perfectly-timed follow-up question. You’ve heard the saying “God is in the details?” I think it is true. God uses our situations, the people around us, our everyday lives to point us towards what we are being called to do.
I guess most of you have probably noticed that this morning we have a number of visitors with us. Some of them are here to support me as I share a story they know and many others of you have been invited because I want you to be a part of my story and my journey.
Kitty, my week at your beach house has led to so much more than I have been able to share and so much more than I could have imagined. My concentrated time away from the noise and chaos of everyday life allowed me to be open to God nudging me and saying, “It is time.”
And so it was, that on the day of my grandfather’s funeral in October, as one life ended, a new life was begun. Because on that day I put a letter in the mail that would forever change my life. My application to Carolina Adoption Services applying to adopt a little girl from Russia. A daughter.
And so, as I was planning Advent, attending Christmas parties and all the rest, I was also coming closer, one step at a time, to fulfilling my call to be a parent. I have realized that the promise I had always said I had made to myself – that if I was still single when I turned 30 I would adopt a child (from Russia) – was in reality a promise made to God, a promise God has been telling me it is time to fulfill.
On a Monday afternoon in December I found myself with a stack of paperwork, a list of classwork completed, and the approval of my social worker, headed to my adoption agency to present my paperwork to Tania, the caseworker who handles Russian adoptions.
My decision with Tania had been that I would begin the process of applying to adopt this little girl, but if I had all of the paperwork together and my house was not sold, I would hold everything until I had a sale.
Driving down the interstate, my phone rang. My realtor. “Lauren, this is Jane. I may have good news for you. I met a woman at church yesterday who was looking for a house, I took her out to see yours, and she is interested in buying it.”
Some of you have been getting updates on my housing saga, but I haven’t been able to share it all until now. The woman did end up making an offer on my house, but Jane kept stressing that it wasn’t ideal and she wasn’t sure it would go through. It would be a lease-purchase agreement; I’d have to be landlord until her financing worked out to finalize the sale. In the meantime she and her 3 cats would move in and I wouldn’t have a great way of getting her out if things went sour.
God, I know you are there. God, I’m not doubting any more. I’m not questioning you any more. I’m not going to run a background check or even have any money in hand when this woman moves into my house. I’ll trust her as I’ve begun to trust you that you truly do have a plan for all of this. God, you’ve brought me this far, you’ve done just about everything short of skywriting to get my attention, and you have it now.
It wasn’t long before I got a call from Tania that I didn’t expect. They had hit a glitch in my application. In talking to the woman in Moscow who facilitates the adoptions, she was concerned about my housing situation.
You see, apparently the Russian government was going to have a hard time believing that as a United Methodist minister I essentially get a free house. What the government was going to need to see was some sort of proof that if I lost my job, I had some place else I could go. You know, like a house that I might still own in a nearby city.
So on January 3 I drove to the tax office to get a notarized “Proof of Residence” letter to show that I still own a house. And then three days later I got another call from Jane. My tenant was ready to purchase.
For one month I owned a house and had the added income of a tenant.
For one month I could prove that my income was high enough to be approved.
For one month I could prove I owned a home.
And it was during that one month that all of my paperwork came together, all the pieces fell into place to submit everything to the Russian government – certified deed, proof of residence, and all the rest of it!
So today, I introduce you to an old friend.
This is St. Joseph. As many of you may recall, I buried him in my yard in Greensboro back in the fall and prayed earnestly that my house would sell. It didn’t sell in 10 days, like is promised in the instructions, but I have no doubt that God had his hand in my life (and in my house) all along!
And today, I invite you to join me on the journey to bringing a child into my life and into the life and ministry of this church. My paperwork has been received by the Russian government (Proof of Residence and all!!) and I am awaiting a referral of a little girl sometime in the coming months. I could get a referral next week or it could be a year from now; I just don’t know. I’ll have a week to decide if I am accepting the referral and then will wait for an official invitation to meet her.
I’ll travel to Russia with my mom to spend a day or two with my little one (who will probably be somewhere between 12 and 18 months old) and I’ll officially accept the referral and then I’ll come back to work and to ministry and to waiting.
But I’m okay with waiting. Because God has taught me something about God’s time. 1-3 months after the first trip, I’ll go back with my friend Beverly (who is here with us today) and bring my little girl home as a little US citizen and the newest member of our church family. I say with all sincerity that it is only because of the love and support I have felt from so many of you that I was able to be open to something I have known for many years that God was calling me to do.
And to all of you who are not members here – friends and loved ones from all parts of my life, thank you for being here and for your love and support. It is because of all of you that I have become the person that I have – it is your love that has shaped me and challenged me and your support that has given me the confidence to go forward with something many would consider crazy.
And so, as we prepare to celebrate Valentine’s Day this week, as we are thinking about the love of our family and our friends and our church, I am celebrating the love I have felt from all of you. I am embarking on an adventure that I always knew I would undertake but sort of expected that I’d have the husband in place before pursuing. I’m stepping out in faith, knowing that God has provided so far and I trust that God will continue to provide – I just may need to rework my definitions and rephrase my prayers!
So in the coming days and weeks and months, I ask you to keep me in your prayers, and keep my little one and her caregivers in your prayers. Because somewhere out there is a little girl that God will bring home when God’s time is right.
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
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