April Update

April 1, 2011

Dear Family and Friends,

Suddenly tears threatened to squeeze their potent mixture of joy, sadness, and shame from my well-controlled tear ducts. Even after five years in the city, I still have moments of revelation that break my heart in unexpected ways.

It was Thursday night and, as is my usual habit, I (Adria) sat behind the lobby desk buzzing people in and brandishing pens to enforce sign-in for our Adult Basketball Outreach. Andrew leaned on the desk as we hastily ate our dinner of sandwiches as people started to file in. From the hall I could hear the loud echoes of basketballs bouncing on the gym floor and guys warming up and talking a little pre-game smack, when Jason trotted out to the front desk to check the order of the play list.

Andrew has known Jason for many years, maintaining a relationship with him even through many ups and downs. Jason has struggled in his relationship with the Lord and with some significant family issues and personal decisions while growing up. These things led him into destructive behaviors and to dropping out of high school. Recently, however, Jason has been working on getting his life back in order. Most importantly, he has a renewed hunger for the Lord and has been one of our most consistent attendees of our weekly Bible Study.

As he perused the play list, Jason mentioned to Andrew and I that he had finally gotten his GED certificate. He said it so casually at first I did not register the significance. Andrew said, “Awesome! I want to see it.”

“Yeah,” Jason said, “I’ll show it to you. I’ve got it in my backpack. I’m taking that thing with me everywhere I go.” Then it hit me. I felt joy for this young man, who is making incredible steps in the right direction. I felt sadness that his life reflects so much pain and difficulty that securing a GED represented a major life achievement. And, I felt shame that I have taken so much for granted in my life. I thought, he had to work so hard to get his GED and is so proud of it that he carries it on his person at all times, do I even know where my high school and college diplomas are?

In the face of so much struggle in the city there have been times that I have felt guilty because I was born into the family I was and for the subsequent financial security, physical safety, and educational opportunities that were mine simply because of where God placed me. There are still times that feeling washes over me, but I know I had no more control over where God placed me than Jason did.

What God is teaching me in moments like these is that there is much about my life that I have assumed was my right because I am an American and because I am a “good Christian” who works hard. I am owed nothing. I do not deserve anything more or less than Jason. In fact, Jason has had to work significantly harder to achieve things that I have considered “lesser” than I have had to work to achieve things like a high school and college education. In these moments that God smacks me with humbling revelations I am truly in awe of my friends and neighbors here in the city. They are determined and resilient in ways I will never understand. Praise God for His mercies that meet each of us where we are: broken in our own ways and in desperate need of Him.

Please continue to pray for Jason and for the other young adults in our Bible Study that they would continue to respond to God’s call on their lives and for their strength to continue fighting to live a life pleasing to Him.

For His Kingdom, Andrew and Adria Medlen

Let the Little Children...Pull Weeds!

We spent the last of today's evening hours outside fixing up our garden (Andrew mocked my city-girl construction of a vegetable garden) and cleaning up the "landscaping" in our front yard (I use that term ever so loosely).  Usually these are not among my favorite activities but unlike yesterday, which was about 40 degrees and terribly windy, this evening was pleasant and the neighborhood full of people.  I felt almost as much satisfaction about our clean yard as I did the sense of community I gained from being in my neighborhood.

Now before you think this a tranquil evening, there were sirens and lots of traffic and about 10 people across the street yelling and cursing at one another for about a half hour straight.  Oh, and Stu, our dumb dog, doesn't listen so he almost got hit by a car and then got cussed out by the driver.

Along with pulling weeds and digging out unidentified weed-tree-stalks, we talked with neighbors and said hello to passersby.  It's times like this that I remember that sometimes one of the best forms of ministry we can do is to just be visible and present in the community. 

Then to make a great night even better some little helpers arrived:

Many hands make light work...or do they?

Anthony is doing some serious stone "sweeping."

Quick, who has the most fashonable wardrode for weeding?

American Idol: Gardening Edition

Stu doesn't seem to be enjoying that as much as the girls!

This was right before we had to chase her down the street as she ran away towards the street.  Little stinker.

Questions heard while gardening with children:

1. Adria, did you marry Andrew because his name started with an A?
2. Andrew, did you marry Adria because her name started with an A?
3. Why didn't you adopt a kid yet?
4. Can you please get a kid our age so we can play with it?
5. Is that worm pooping?

Bigger Than Us

One of my pet peeves, among many others, is how serious people take college and professional sports.  What it comes down to for me is that most of the players have an inflated view of themselves, which is continually inflated by the general public, who apparently think that being able to run fast and play with balls is deeply moving and fantastic and worthy of millions of dollars.  It's an unfortunate cycle.

I tend towards the camp of, sports are fine, but does playing them cure cancer or care for orphans or really do anything that makes a difference in my world?  I guess you can figure out what my answer to that would be.

Being that we are in the middle of "March Madness" and my husband is an avid KU fan (yes, he is currently weeping in shame), I get a little irritated when people sit around talking about sports statistics and news as if it was interesting or all-encompassing.  I don't get into sports...I'll watch them, I've enjoyed playing them, but I won't get anxiety about "my" team losing or become ecstatic that "my" team has made the playoffs.  Heck, how is it your team anyway?  Do you own the team?  Are you on the team?  Does someone you know and love have a vested interest in the team?  You get my point.

So I was thinking about this the other day after I had been forced to listen to some more basketball updates and I began to internally scoff at those who spend so much of their life thinking about, watching, and talking about sports.  Those poor unimaginative people.

But then I asked myself what it is that I get into.  There are plenty of things I love but one that may affect me the most is Story.  I love to get into stories and characters.  When I read a good book or get to know great characters in a movie or TV show, it's almost as if they become a real part of my life.  I even find myself thinking about those characters at times other than when I'm reading the book or watching the TV show.  I compare their experiences to mine and find symbols in their existence that say something about the world.  I get completely invested in what will happen to them, so much so that I feel anger or sadness or happiness for those characters when things happen to them.  And then, when the book is over or the TV series is cancelled, I feel a sense of loss as I say good-bye.

Now I could make some pretty convincing arguments about why this is different or better than an obsession with particular sports teams, but I think at the heart of these very different interests and identifications is the same core need in us all: the desire to be part of something bigger than ourselves.  By grafting ourselves into someone else's story (whether fictional, athletic, or otherwise) we have broadened the narrative of who we are and what we're about.  There's no reason for Andrew to root for the Jayhawks, except that he's from Kansas...which, by that logic, would mean he must also root for corn farmers and mullets (haha, just kidding, Andrew).  So it's not really about that.  It's about finding something that piques your interest and then grabbing at whatever loose straws will connect you to other people, ideas, and movements involving that interest.  These things connect people instantaneously.  You love the Kansas Jayhawks?  You've watched the A & E version of Pride and Prejudice?  You're on my team!  We can be friends.

So, I guess if I'm honest I'm seeking the same thing Mr. Constant-Stream-of-Sports-Updates is, the reassurance that I'm not in this thing called life by myself and that there is daily proof that the world has meaning greater than just what I bring to it. 

I suppose as long as what we graft into our lives is also part of and representative of God's story I can't cast stones at someone else's interests....even if it does make me want to bang my head against a brick wall.  But, please, let's make a deal, Sports Fans...I won't regale you with all of the latest happenings of Bilbo Baggins, or Coach Eric Taylor, or Elizabeth Bennet if you can talk about something other than sports for at least a few minutes!  Thanks.

How Do I Know God is Real, You Ask?

Bible Study tonight was full of great questions.  How do you know God is real?  Are God and Satan equals?  Do you have to be baptized to go to heaven?  How do we know we should believe the Bible?

As a Christian, questions like these simultaneously make you excited and stiffle the urge to groan aloud.  It's hard to be peppered with all the "hard" questions and feel so inadequate in the face of such weighty inquiries.  But most of the time when I hear these questions I also hear the gentle knocking of Christ on the heart's of people He is beckonning to Himself. 

Sitting around our Bible Study circle tonight were young adults who love the Lord, some who don't, some come from a history of life in the street, some are still dabbling in it.  But each of us were unified through a desire to know something about the Lord.  Some asked questions, others did their best to answer and I sat back thrilled at the sight of a community of young people working to lead one another into a better understanding of the Lord.

Sometimes these questions come from the most unlikely of askers, and it is then that I know the Lord is up to something.  There is no way this person would ask this question without spiritual prompting, I think to myself.  At times like this I remember Ecclesiases 3:11, which says "He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men; yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end."

How do I know God is real, you ask?  I know He is real because we are born with eternal questions in our heart and if we stop to contemplate reality we can't help but ask them.  I know because I see His hand constantly moving and shaping people and drawing them to Himself.  I know because I see young lives, that by all logical standards should be crushed and ruined and hopeless, unfolding before the Lord in His glory.  I know because there is no way to make sense of the world without God.
 
God is real and He is at work in the city!

I Love My Life

Sunday night Andrew and I were sitting with some colorful characters in a restaurant that I will not name, recommend, or revisit due to its pandering to an unwholesome male clientele; however, as I looked around and listened to the slightly crusty conversation going on around me I thought, So many people don't get to live my life. 

In the course of 24 hours we had spent time with Moody seminary students as they volunteered their time at World Impact; we had taken a friend and neighbor to lunch for his birthday where we had a few candid conversations about life and race; we had spent time sitting on our porch with some neighborhood kids; and then we were in a ritzy area of St. Louis at an unexpectedly risque restaurant with guys who some people would get a little nervous about if they passed them on the street. 

I love the fact that God has blessed us with the opportunity to have such diversity in our lives and what those opportunities mean for how we get to see the world.  Most people live in a neighborhood with people who generally live and look like them, they go to work with people with whom they have a great deal in common, and spend time with friends who reflect the same culture and values as they have.  But our lives look a little bit different than that.

I have been told that I am a pessimist, and it's true, I generally see the fact that the glass is half empty before I notice that it is also half full.  Being in inner city ministry can be very hard, and it is easy to focus on those hardships, but the last few days God has given me a joy in the uniqueness of my experiences. 

One of the conversations we had over our friend's birthday lunch was the use of identifying with those of your own race as "my people."  Now, I have nothing against identifying with a culture or race as part of your life and heritage, but "my people" shouldn't be white people or middle-class people, "my people" should be God's people...which is ALL people.  So, I can say without any hesitation that in Christ, my white-suburban family members are "my people,"  the kids I love and play with on our porch in North St. Louis are "my people,"  and those rough-around-the-edges guys we had Sunday dinner with are "my people" too. 

I feel so blessed to live a life that encounters so many of God's unique people.  I have learned that how you see the world partially depends on how much you are exposed to it and not everyone has the opportunity so readily available to them.  As an inner-city missionary I have the privilege of coming from a comfortable, Christian, background, yet I am also privileged to live in a black community and a neighborhood that knows poverty.  I get to claim wonderful Christians around the U.S. as family and partners in ministry and I get to live in a neighborhood and culture that would otherwise be foreign to me.  I can have just as comfortable a conversation with a seminary student as with a guy who wears Mr. T necklaces, shades, and has a creepy tattoo on the back of his bald head, and I think that's just how Jesus would want it.

I love my life.

Spring Break 2011

We had less staff this year, fewer volunteers, and not as many kids as usual for our annual Spring Break Program, but that didn't stop us from having a great week or from seeing God provide in beautiful ways.  In fact, the longer our staff feels stretched out thin and blowing in the wind, the greater our understanding is of just how big and how good God is. 

He provided us with some quality volunteers, who worked very hard for us all week.  He brought us just the right amount of children, even if we thought we could've handled more.  Most of the week we had 11 or 12 kids, but on Friday we had 22!  This was still below our usual Spring Break numbers but a significant change from the rest of the week.  It was almost as if God gave us that day just to prove that He always knows best :).  While the day went well, it definitely was right on the edge of controlled chaos, and gave us a tiny taste of what things would have been like if we had still had our usual 30-40 kids.  All I really could say by the end of Friday was, "Thank you, Jesus, we made it!"

The kids had a wonderful time on our "Ramblin' Road Trip" in which we learned about difference cities in the US, as well as the ways God wants us to go in life.  The theme verse was "Teach me your ways, O Lord, show me your paths." Psalm 25:4 (Or Pslams as one dear little boy called it).  We "went to" Washington D.C. and Chicago, to Lebanon, Kansas, and Yellowstone National Park, ending the week at Knott's Berry Farm.  It was fun finding ways to incorporate the themes of each day into our activities (but don't tell the kids that Digiorno's is not Chicago style pizza haha). 

All in all, it was another great Spring Break and God is continuing to prove faithful to us in our times of need!  Here's a few fun photos of the week:

Paper Pregnant

I heard someone refer to their upcoming adoption as being "paper pregnant" and I liked it.  Waiting for a child, no matter how God brings them to you, causes worries, joy, massive food consumption (stress induced or not), room preparations, feelings of panic that your life is about to change forever, insecurities, lots of informational reading, tossing and turning at night, and impatient excitement.

However, in adoption, unlike in pregnancy, you endure these things often for over a year!  Being more abstract than an increasing belly, people forget there's a child growing in your heart if not in your body.  And like the feelings of discomfort when a baby is almost to term, adoptive parents huff and groan and become exasperatedly impatient as we wait...and wait...and wait...

In pregnancy you mark time by weeks and trimesters, adoptive parents mark time by application deadlines, home study approvals, and licensing dates.  Here's how we've marked time this past year:

February 2010- We both felt God call us to adopt now.
March 2010- Filled out applications with One Heart Family Ministries to start licensing classes.
June 2010- Begin licensing classes and start our home study (and lots of paperwork).
August 2010- Finish 9 weeks of foster licensing classes, lots of paperwork, and complete our home study.
September 2010- Finish adoption licensing classes.
October 2010- Wait....and take First Aid and CPR certification class.
November 2010- We're licensed foster parents!
January 2011- Get our first foster placement call but decide it's not a good fit for us.
March 2011- We're licensed adoptive parents!  We are searching and waiting and praying...huff...groan...huff :)