DEEP WATERS

There's a movement rising up... A movement that will address a huge issue in the US.  An issue that affects over 400,000 children each year. 400,000 plus children and teens. That's more than the population of New Orleans.  The issue?  Foster care. For many years now, Christians around the world have dedicated one Sunday a year to address the issues of orphans around the world. This Sunday is Orphan Sunday - dedicated to the over 140 million orphans around the world. I've been blessed to participate in Orphan Sunday in my local church for many years now. I love speaking about this issue. I love calling the Church to rise up and "defend the cause of the fatherless". Well this year a new movement has begun.  It's a movement to call the Church to continue to rise up for orphans - the "orphans" in our cities, our communities, our own backyards. The local "orphan". We know them as foster children. I

In July I shared a post titled "The US Racial Divide - Where Do We Begin?"  that began with these words, "This week was one of the most discouraging in our country in some time." I wrote this post in the aftermath of glaring racial tensions around the country. In the aftermath of several African American men gunned down by police officers. In the aftermath of police officers being murdered in the same city streets they had sworn to protect and serve. Since that posting, there have been more mass shootings, more hatred and more racial tensions in our country. More lives have been lost in senseless violence. We are a long way from solving these issues. Yet today I wanted to share some good news in the midst of all the horrible. Last week I was excited to share a perspective of the 2016 Summer Olympic Games that I'd heard bits and pieces of leading up to the Games. I love a wonderful foster care or adoption story, so in "Foster care and the Olympics"

I LOVE the Olympic Games - both the winter and summer games. Every two years, I'm captivated by the national pride, physical strength, mental endurance and emotional resilience of the athletes from all over the world. Last night I sat captivated while watching the Olympics opening ceremony. Brasilians* are beautiful, spirited and warm people, and I fell in love with Brasil over a decade ago when my son Kalin and I served orphans and vulnerable children on a mission's trip there. Another love of mine - following the lives of former foster children. My heart is always moved to hear the stories of people - young and old - whose lives began with so much stacked against them. Inevitably, while hearing the "how did they get here?" stories shared during the Olympics trials, I've discovered some amazing Olympians whose lives have been touched by foster care and/or adoption in some way.  And you know I had to share...  Simone Biles ~ Gymnastics This 4-

Yesterday my heart was so grieved over the tumultuous events throughout the week, that I felt I had to share my heart here. So I posted The Racial Divide: Where Do We Begin? yesterday, hoping to encourage us as Brothers and Sisters in Christ to love one another well during these times. Love digs deep. Love is costly. Love calls us to live not only for our own benefit and welfare, but for the benefit and welfare of others. Yesterday I felt called to call us all to LOVE one another during these times. It's what I believe our Father expects of us, now more than ever. Today, I feel called to inspire us to do one more thing. This is perhaps the most important thing we can do right now. This is perhaps the real starting point. I believe I took it for granted that God's people were already doing this. I took for granted that it didn't need to be said. Then I read a Facebook post from a man I call my "Big Bro". His words were poignant and powerful. His words

This week was one of the most discouraging in our country in some time. Sure we've lived through deadlier weeks - soldiers falling while fighting in Iraq and Afghanistan, 9/11, the Boston Marathon Massacre... And yet there's something that darkens the heart and minds of Americans when we witness fellow citizens - especially our young African American males - gunned down in the street and during routine traffic stops.  There's something that oppresses the human psyche when w e witness police officers, charged with the oath to protect and serve , gunned down and murdered by a gunman motivated by hatred and racism. (And as a military veteran that served in Afghanistan, possibly out of mental illness and PTSD.) There's something hugely wrong about weeks like this... And yet we are a resilient people. We have persevered through many difficult times. We have stood together and marched together, hand-in-hand, in solidarity of heart and mind. We can

My heart broke at the news yesterday... Elie Wiesel, writer, professor and human rights activist, passed away yesterday, at the age of 87. I don't remember when I was first introduced to Elie, but I do remember seeing him interviewed on The Oprah Winfrey Show . I also remember watching footage of his tour of the concentration camp he had endured and survived at the young age of 15. I still remember the pain in his eyes. I also remember reading his book Night for the first time. I wept every night as I turned the pages of Elie's retelling of his young life as a young Jewish boy. His sister and mother were killed upon arrival to Auschwitz concentration camp. After being transferred to the Buchenwald concentration camp alongside his father, Elie watched his captors beat his father mercilessly. He also watched his father die before his eyes, his spirit nearly destroyed by the helplessness and shame he felt. His father died only weeks before Buchenwald was libera

I don't fully understand what happens inside. I can't explain the shift. But it seems that when we experience loss, our eyes are opened to others around us that have lost as well. We feel just a little deeper for those experiencing pain. We are more empathetic, more sensitive, more aware somehow. Living through loss can be devastating. I've share a lot about the loss I experienced in 2015, when my Mom and Dad became very ill and passed away three weeks apart from one another. Since then, I've had days when my grief followed me around like a storm cloud, threatening to send a lightening bolt right through the heart of me. Days that storms brought thunder that shook the ground beneath my feet, threatening to upend me. Days that I've moved through the day as if on auto-pilot. I've also had days, and now weeks, when I can feel God's healing balm within me. Days that I believe I'm stronger and wiser and better than before. Days that I know I

Last night, I finished the final episode of the History Channel's TV miniseries Roots . To say I was pleasantly surprised at the historical and emotional depth of this remake of Alex Haley's 1977 miniseries Roots, based on his personal genealogical history and biography, would be an understatement. I was a young girl when I watched the first Roots with my family, and I'll never forget how much that movie impacted me so many years ago. As a matter of fact, as I watched the first episode of the remake, I sadly thought, My parents would have loved this movie. I'll miss talking about this with my Mom tomorrow. Well, in honor of my sweet parents, and my other ancestors that have gone on before me, today I want to share three themes from Roots that moved me. I could probably list ten, but here's just a few that spoke the loudest to me. 1. We African Americans were blessed with strong and brave ancestors I loved the focus on the pre-slavery era of African s

This post might be a bit premature... After all, Stephen Curry and his Golden State Warriors still have a road ahead of them - against the Cleveland Cavaliers - to the NBA Championship. And if it goes anything like their last run, Curry and his cohorts will be fighting until the very end. And yet, I thought I'd share today. But first - a few words from Sports Illustrated after Monday night's game: "[Curry had] just scored 36 points. He'd finished off an unlikely 3-1 series comeback. And he'd reminded those who doubted him -- whether in the media or chuckling at a podium -- that he remains the most illogical, impossible basketball player on the planet , a two-time MVP whose toughness continues to be second-guessed, as Steve Kerr said, only, 'because he looks like he's 12 years old.'" ** Steph Curry has captured the hearts of NBA enthusiasts and people like me -- people who watch a game here or there. And when we do watch, don't get

Tomorrow is Mother's Day - the day we pay homage to our Moms, Aunties and the beautiful women in our lives that have served as second moms to us.  Today I want to pay homage to two women that have played a special part in my life. But first, a bit of backstory... This past week I attended CAFO2016, the Christian Alliance for Orphans' annual Summit. This year we were in sunny Orlando, Florida, and what an amazing time it was. Inspiring breakout sessions, tear-jerking main sessions and a great time with my CAFO tribe. A highlight: my time with the African American Church Initiative -- a CAFO movement formed to further engage African American Christians in serving orphans and vulnerable children. I felt so blessed to walk with my brothers and sisters, as we walk out our calling to wrap around vulnerable children and families together.  Last year this time, I shared about CAFO2015 and the amazing work God did in and through me during Summit. This year I want to sha

I was sitting in my minivan, having just picked up my son Christian from his football team workout, when I heard the news. The car in park, I noticed I had 4 texts. I assumed they were texts from a ministry I've recently joined. We've got a lot going on this month, and when a leader sends out a text, we typically start firing our responses back at her. I checked my phone. It was from a member of this ministry, but it read differently from previous texts... "Fyi - you may already know, I just got word that Dr Karyn Purvis passed away." I was shocked. I kinda had a moment... To the point where I had to tell the kiddos not to worry. I'd be okay. I'd just read some bad news, but everyone in our family was okay. (After losing my parents so close together, I've had to give my kiddos this kind of information when anything unusual comes up.) To say I was sad to hear Dr. Purvis had succumbed to her battle with cancer is a gross understatement. In t

My Parents in their Twilight Years -- Still Sharp and Beautiful Last year Easter was very challenging for me.  When Easter arrived last year, I was reeling from the loss of my parents just months before. I was deep in the "acute grief" that a counselor had taught me about, given me vocabulary for and helped to walk me through. Honestly, I don't even remember anything that happened on Easter day last year. I think I was pretty numb to the celebration of Jesus' death and resurrection. In my head I knew that He'd given me - and the whole world - the most awesome gift ever when He died on the cross for my sins and rose from the dead.  But last year, I wasn't exactly feeling it. This year has been different. As I've approached Resurrection Sunday, I have been very contemplative. I've thought a lot about the depth of Jesus' sacrifice. I've been reading the Passion story -- the story of Jesus' death, burial and resurrectio

When I first began writing regular posts about my parents , it was easy to find the time and energy to write. I would sit down at my laptop, and before I knew it I'd pecked out some sincere and, I hope, honoring thoughts about each of them. But that was back when my parents were still with us. But TODAY I feel like I have to write... Today is the anniversary of the day my mother passed away. I can hardly believe it's been a whole year. Then on the other hand, it feels like a lifetime ago that my sisters and I walked up and down the halls of my parents' hospitals. It feels like a lifetime ago that I spent weeks at a time in Maryland, sitting beside my parents' hospital beds, talking with nurses and doctors about my parents' prognoses. It seems like a lifetime ago that I was hopeful that my mother might actually recover, especially when her health miraculously improved. It seems like a lifetime ago that I prayed she'd someday return home. Little did

I've been putting off writing this post for days now. I've wanted to share so much, but I just couldn't make myself sit down and start writing. Well here goes y'all... I'll start with a little backstory. Many of you know I lost my parents in early 2015, exactly 3 weeks apart from one another. I've shared this story and several stories  highlighting all that the Lord showed me through my parents during those last weeks with them. This past Wednesday, January 20th, was the anniversary of my father's death . I didn't know what to expect or how I'd feel. For the most part, it was a regular day. But as I look back, this week I've felt an undercurrent of sadness. Just below the surface. I'm still grieving for sure. Think I will be for a while now. And for some reason, I'm okay with that. I don't feel like I have to be strong or brave. And I think God's okay with it too. The Word tells us Christians that we shouldn't gri