You may notice that the last post on Crazy Love was quite some time ago. Admittedly, I kind of bailed on the book. I read the first couple of pages of this chapter and thought, “this is going to be all about selling everything you own and going overseas to do mission work in 3rd world countries.”

I really struggled with that. Something interrupted my start of the chapter (probably one of my children needing something), and I never picked it back up.

My initial reaction was that not everyone needs to “make headlines” with how they serve. The story of the starfish came to mind – how by tossing the starfish back into the water, the author “made a difference to that one.” Sometimes it’s the little things that make the big difference in a person’s life. We should be called to that – not the fame that comes with some of the more glitzy missions.

Then I finished the chapter.

Oops.

I was wrong. I pre-judged. I thought I knew where the book was going, but I didn’t.
Had I read even one more page, I’d have read Chan’s words, “yet he died quietly, without a lot of attention; no one really knew about him.” It’s as if Chan knew that people would get all defensive like I did and challenge that it’s not all about fame.

On that note, I was humbled and my attitude changed – so let’s dig into the chapter.

There are many people listed in the chapter. Some I’ve heard about, most I have not. Some really struck me as I read, and those are the ones I’d like to share with you.

Simpson Rebbavarapu was orphaned at around the age of four and was never named during those four years by his birth parents. In fact, his mother tried twice to abort him: once with herbs, and once by going to a doctor (who didn’t show up that day). Those are the facts, these are my speculations: there was no doubt in Simpson’s mind that his parents didn’t want him. Can you imagine that? The hurt. The inadequacy. The lack of self-confidence or self-esteem. I simply can’t imagine how that would feel.

Jon used to work with troubled youth. Many of those were born into families that “didn’t want them.” Many were product of rape. Many were suicidal and violent toward others because they were unwanted themselves and had no self worth. It’s heartbreaking to hear their stories, see the pain in their eyes, and acknowledge the terrible choices they make in their lives, their quest to be significant somehow.

Yet Simpson was different. Chan writes, “Simpson believes that God has always had His hand on his life, because if it had been up to his mother, he would never have been born.” Oh, if only all "unwanted children" could feel that way. God loves each and every one of us, and he makes NO mistakes! We are all perfectly formed in His image and can be used as instruments of His love and peace if only we make ourselves available to Him.

Jamie Lang’s story is similar, except that she adopted a young child born to an HIV positive mother. Late term in her pregnancy, the child’s mother took a morning after pill to abort the child, but it cause pre-term delivery. Due to this, little bleeding occurred, which allowed the child to be born HIV free, and he is a healthy child, now adopted by Jamie Lang. As Chan writes, “What was intended to end his life, God used to save it.” Aren’t you so thankful that God’s ways are not our own? His sovereignty, His power, His grace, His love…. How many things in our life has He used to save us, that would have otherwise harmed us? I suspect that they are many more numerous than I can begin to imagine.

I loved the story of Rings. Rings is a homeless man who is a smoker, an ex-con, an ex-addict, and an ex-alcoholic. He lives out of his truck, but from the checks he does receive, he uses it all to purchase food at the local grocery story and brings it to fellow homeless people. As he prepares the food, he shares the gospel.

What makes this story so interesting to me is that I’ve met “Rings.” His name wasn’t really Rings, his name is Mark Horvath, but the story is similar. My husband is the executive director of our local homeless shelter. During an event to raise awareness earlier this year, Mark came as the guest speaker. Mark is a former homeless person who has come to Christ. This year he has made it his mission to travel around the country filming Invisible.TV – a project that gives homeless people a name. He has interviewed hundreds of homeless people, allowing them to share their story, raising awareness about the problem, and challenging others to get involved and help.

If you want to help the homeless, here’s a great resource listing 35 ways you can help. My husband also said that one thing homeless people really appreciate (especially if you’re not comfortable giving money) is a new pair of socks. Think of it – they likely have one pair. That one pair goes through rain, snow, mud, several days of walking. You know how warm and fuzzy a new pair of socks feel to you – now imagine a new pair after wearing the same pair for 30 days.

If you're looking for ways to help those in your community, check out what some of our friends here are doing with Cobblestone Project, an organization they started to help those less fortunate. Lots of these ideas can be replicated throughout your communities as well. It really just takes a desire to serve, meet people's needs, and be obedient to God.

Anyway, I’m getting off on a tangent not at all related to the book!

So…back to the book.

The Robynson Family had a great tradition whereby they would make a hot breakfast on Christmas morning and bring it downtown to serve the homeless. I love this tradition. I love how the family serves together – this is absolutely what Jon and I are trying to teach our kids. Serving others is such a powerful witness, and truly you get as much (more!) as you give when you’re serving.

I do have a challenge though: don’t wait for Christmas.

Christmas is great and all. It’s a wonderful time to give and share. However, it’s also one of the easiest times for service agencies to get donations and help. I’m not saying DON’T serve at Christmas. I’m saying don’t JUST serve at Christmas. The need is all around us 365 days of the year. Meet it.

By the end of the chapter, as I mentioned, my attitude was changed. However, I still stand by a small portion of my original thoughts – they’ve just been slightly realigned.

I believe that it’s not important to “give it all away” and follow God. I believe that it’s essential to be obedient to God. If He tells you to give it all away, by all means, go with it – He will not only guide, but He will provide absolutely everything you need. Obedience is the key. Don’t just pick a cause and run with it, seek God’s will, His guidance, and let Him use you in ways you’ve never imagined. You can do good on your own, you can even make a difference on your own. But with God leading you, giving you strength, giving you provisions beyond what you could ever do yourself…. Well… as Chan says, “you, too, can live a life worth writing about.”

After all, that’s what made these people noteworthy – their obedience to Christ led them to things that would have otherwise been impossible.

Now that’s some Crazy Love.

A few posts ago, I wrote about Amara telling Santa that she loves Jesus more. I also wrote that Dominic, upon seeing Santa's reaction, had to chime in that he loved Jesus more, too.

I thought that would really be the end of it.

But then Dominic's teacher told me this:

They were sitting as a class in circle time talking about Christmas and about Santa Claus. Dominic raised his hand (what 3 year old does that!?). When called upon he said, "Excuse me, it's important to remember we should love Jesus more than we love Santa Claus."

I love that kid!

May he always be that uninhibited in sharing his faith!

Last Friday, the kids had their Christmas program at their day care. I was SO PROUD of how well they did. You could tell they were a little bit nervous at first, never having been "on stage" before, but the nerves quickly melted away, and they did a fabulous job!

Dominic's class sang 4 Christmas songs. He was very proud to be "the line leader." Truly, he didn't sing as loudly as I expected, because he has a loud personality! He struggled a bit with his antlers falling in his eyes (he was a reindeer) -- but that was too cute! He had to take a pause to come give me a hug, which prompted his little friend to do the same. Irresistable! What I didn't catch on camera is him calling out, "I love you, Mommy," between songs. Since it was quiet, everyone heard, which made everyone go, "Aw...." Immediately after that, he looked back at Jon and said, "I love you, Daddy," which you kind of can hear on video, because it was just as the song was beginning.



Amara's class put on a little play based on "The Polar Express." The teachers had them practicing for weeks, and asked us to help them out at home. She told us she didn't have any lines other than "This one is for you," but the little actress surprised us all! She had a TON of lines. I have no idea how she memorized them (other than she memorizes everything quickly), because she didn't practice at all at home. Apparently one little boy had stage fright, so she was asked to say his lines with him. Then somehow she inherited another child's lines as well. Of course, I get all this information from my friend, Chandra, who babysat them the night before. I asked Amara why she didn't tell me she had lines. She told me the teachers told her not to tell so she could surprise us -- she sure did!

I don't know if I'm craving kringla (cring-luh) or missing my Grandma.... probably both.... but boy could I use a kringla fix right now!

Kringla was a holiday staple at our family gatherings, and Grandma made them like none other! They were soft, moist, not-too-sweet cookies with a thin layer of butter spread over them...mmm...good!

My Grandma made everything wonderfully. My Dad has mastered her lefse. My Aunt has mastered her rommegrot. I have no desire to master her (or anyone else's for that matter) lutefisk. But the kringla, and really the flatbrod, too, I really really miss. More than that, I miss my Grandma's sweet face and gracious smile serving them to us.

We do have my Grandma's kringla recipe, however, it calls simply for "flour" -- not how much. So I've been on a search for a recipe. I've found one. We'll have to give it a whirl (and a figure 8 swirl) and see how it turns out. This is one tradition I'd love to pass along to my kids -- who are a quarter less Norwegian than I am (I'm 50%), but they can flaunt their Norwegian-ness for Christmas and kringla!

Kringla - Norwegian

1 cup sugar
1 egg
1 teaspoon soda
3 cups flour
1 teaspoon vanilla
1/2 cup butter
1 cup buttermilk
2 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1 Dash salt

Directions:Mix sugar, butter, and unbeaten egg. Add buttermilk, soda, then flour, salt, baking powder, and vanilla. Knead on a board and leave in refrigerator over night. One soup spoon makes a nice size Kringla. Roll on lightly flour board until the size of a pencil. Form a Figure-8 and bake on an ungreased cookie sheet in a 450 oven until lightly browned on bottom. These are supposed to be soft and chewy, kind of between a cookie and a cake. Many prefer to butter them or eat them with coffee. They taste somewhat like shortbread.

I stole this from my friend Nancy's blog.


1) Have you started your Christmas shopping? Yes, I'm mostly done. The crafts are done and ordered. There's a few little things I'd still like to find. And I still want to have a family photo taken, but need to ask a friend if she'd be willing to do it.



2) Tell me about one of your special traditions. We've begun the Advent Calendar tradition I blogged about a little while back. It has been very special to us thus far, and has inspired some wonderful discussions. We also started (or will be starting) pj's for Christmas Eve present so that we can open the stockings in the morning with the kids wearing new jammies. Next year I'd also like to potentially start a book a day in December, so I hope to find some good post-Christmas sales on Christmas books that I can save for a year then unwrap one each night.



3) When do you put up your tree? When we're home for Thanksgiving, the Friday after Thanksgiving. When we're gone (i.e. this year), we did it the weekend before Thanksgiving.