Our "Trip To Holland"

Photo by Heather Rae Ackerman

Last week I mentioned sharing a personal "welcome to Holland" story. Since then I've pondered if ours really was such. Yes, we "landed in a different country," but we ended in a horrible place as well. Still God used our new path, leading us to people we'd not have known otherwise.

Our teen-aged daughter ran away from home and charged us with child abuse. Despite all our efforts to bring her home, we failed. Then people who believed her story moved her out of state ~ far away from us. For months we didn't know where she was. Social Services (now called child protective services) entered our lives, threatened to remove all our children, and judged us guilty without trial. (That's the way they do it.) Our only recourse was appeal in their court with their administrative judge.

We needed a lawyer, for we were now blind-folded, trodding an unplanned journey. We were shocked, devastated, fearful, distraught. I wept continually that year ... and I was crying the day we sat in front of our new lawyer who'd hopefully win our case. I stared at the floor, ashamed we even needed this man's help, while my husband explained all that had happened.

Well into the conversation about our dilemma and everything else in the world (this gentleman liked to talk) our Jewish lawyer asked, "In your religion what does conversion mean?" I glanced up wide-eyed. My mind flashed to the Biblical account of the apostle Paul in prison for a crime he hadn't committed. God shook the prison via earthquake, and the jailer asked the Paul 'What must I do to be saved?'" Paul told him, and the jailer asked Jesus to be his Savior. I bowed my head and prayed within as Brian explained "conversion" in our "religion."

Had it not been for the devastation we'd been through, we wouldn't have been in that place at that time ~ truly a "such a time as this" moment. Did we want these events that happened to us? No. Would we have trade them and missed this opportunity to share the good news of Jesus Christ? No. Paul was in the right place at the right time, and so were we.

Eventually we were cleared of all charges (more were added along the way), but during that journey we'd met others who'd know deep pain ~ folks whose paths we wouldn't have crossed had it not been for our "trip to Holland."

"Welcome To Holland"

Photo by Dave Bothwell

The most poignant piece I've ever read on raising a disabled child (originally published in a 1987 Dear Abby column) hung on our son's special education preschool bulletin board. I've seen it multiple times since and still love the concept.

It's author, Emily Perl Kingley, mom of a Down's syndrome son, writes of the parent's planned vacation to Italy~buying guide books, thrilling at the thought of seeing the art, architecture, and wonder of the Italy.

When the plane lands, however, the stewardess announces "Welcome to Holland."

What? Major mistake! This plane was supposed to land in Italy! Now the parent's stuck in Holland. Yet the pilot hasn't taken her to a horrible place, just a different one. So now she needs new guidebooks and must learn phrases in another language. There are people she'd never planned to meet in this slower-paced, not-so-fancy country.

"But after you've been there for a while...you begin to notice that Holland has windmills ... tulips ... Rembrandts. But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy, and ... bragging about what a wonderful time they had ... the rest of your life you will say, 'Yes, that's ... what I had planned.' And the pain of that experience will never ... go away ... but if you spend your life mourning ... you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special ... lovely things about Holland." ~EPK

The "Welcome To Holland" metaphor fits more than parenting special needs kids. I believe it applies to most types of loss. Dreams die, and that hurts. But this takes us on paths we never planned. And along those we may just trade "...beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, and the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness..." (Isaiah 61:3)

Next week I'll post a "Welcome To Holland" experience my husband and I shared. In the meantime, here's a link to the entire essay* by Mrs. Kingsley: http://www.our-kids.org/Archives/Holland.html

*I'm unable to post the whole essay due to copyright restrictions, but I encourage you to read it as the author meant it to be.

Crazy Love

Many people loved me~parents, grandparents, sister, genuine friends, my husband and kids. But One loved me more than any of these precious folks. Numerous Bible verses share God's Love, but one causes me to awe...

"For one will scarcely die for a righteous person~though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die~but God shows His love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us." Romans 5:7&8

My folks and husband loved me through unlovely times, but Jesus Christ is THE One Who committed to die on a cross before I was a thought in my parents' mind. He KNEW I'd need that kind of love. I cannot comprehend this.

A great hymn for today...
The love of God is greater far than tongue or pen can ever tell; It goes beyond the highest star, and reaches to the lowest hell; the guilty pair, bowed down with care, God gave His Son to win; His erring child He reconciled, and pardoned from his sin.
When hoary time shall pass away, and earthly thrones and kingdoms fall, when men who here refuse to pray, on rocks and hills and mountains call, God’s love so sure, shall still endure, all measureless and strong; redeeming grace to Adam’s race—the saints’ and angels’ song.

Could we with ink the ocean fill, and were the skies of parchment made, were every stalk on earth a quill, and every man a scribe by trade; to write the love of God above would drain the ocean dry; nor could the scroll contain the whole, though stretched from sky to sky.
Refrain: Oh, love of God, how rich and pure! How measureless and strong! 

It shall forevermore endure—the saints’ and angels’ song. 

Under the lyrics of this hymn (on the Internet) a note read, "Verse 3 was penciled on the wall of a narrow room in an insane asylum by a man said to have been demented. The profound lines were discovered when they laid him in his coffin." How crazy was one grasping this concept so powerfully! Who could have said it better? Perhaps the apostle Paul when he penned...

"For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come,
nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us
from the love of God." Romans 8:38-39

Great hope on this day we celebrate Love!

Giant and Patriot

Future NFLers? Hmm. Could be!
Photo by Laura Walters Lucas~Proud Mamma of #52

New York Giant Mathias Kiwanuka knows the meaning of sacrifice. His grandfather, Benedicto Kiwanuka, became first prime minister of freed-from-British-rule Uganda, East Africa. His struggle to bring democracy and hope to his country caused him his life~snuffed out by the evil regime of Idi Ahmin. Prime Minister Kiwanuka was a patriot.

Hope involves sacrifice. Mathias knows this. Although he may hope for a Super Bowl victory in his hometown, he's also devoted to his heritage an ocean away.

Giants vs. Patriots: football fun, fast-paced, fleeting. But there are giants and patriots outside the stadium~ones who've given their lives, just like Mathias's grandfather.

I'm thankful for my freedom as an American. Soldiers and truth-speakers sacrificed and, in some cases, gave their lives for this people. And what about hope for my soul? The ultimate sacrifice paid by Jesus Christ's death and resurrection. Eternally grateful for victory in Jesus!