There's No Place Like Home

I’m headed home today—right now sitting at my gate in the Seattle-Tacoma airport. I caught a puddle-jumper from Portland a couple of hours ago, and my flight for Dallas leaves in a little under two hours.

On the one hand, I hated to say goodbye to my sister and the kids this morning. On the other, they are starting back into a routine, and I need to get home. (I’m supposed to leave for a press trip in the Holy Land two weeks from today.)

Church and drama-team friends have their meals covered until the end of October. Isn’t that awesome? We certainly did not feel like cooking, let alone covering all the food groups, so those who arrived with healthful meals have provided a meaningful service. When folks stayed fifteen minutes to ask about the family but not eat up their entire night with conversation—that was good, too. The daily contact with people helps. But it has to come in reasonable doses.

Each night those kids asked with true gratitude for God to bless the hands that prepared their dinner. It was such a ministry.

I had good talks with my sis and both my niece and younger nephew within the past twenty-four hours. And here are some snippets from our conversations:

. Have a will and know where it is. It doesn’t hurt for a family member to have a copy.
. Tell your loved ones that you love them—and say it often.
. Even if you have a spouse who can support you now, have the training and/or education needed to support yourself someday in case you need to.
. When others around you have needs, offer something specific. Go beyond “Call if you need me” (which requires them to initiate) to offer a specific: “May I bring a meal?” “Can I clean your bathrooms this week?” “Need the ironing done?” “Can I help you write thank-you notes?” “May I return used dishes for you?”

.If you wonder “is email okay or should I send a card,” I suggest “do both.” People cannot receive too many expressions of kindness.

By the way, thanks for yours. It has been a great help. And I'm grateful.

"Together" is Good

Yesterday we gathered at Gordon's grave to read scripture, pray, and release doves.

Today we celebrated my Uncle Herman's life. And for the first time in about fifteen years my two brothers and two sisters and I were together with my parents. Plus all my cousins (all four of them) were there, along with other family members and long-time friends. After the funeral, we had dinner under a beautiful September Oregon sky, and despite the difficult circumstances that brought us here, we were together. My uncle loved photography and snapped thousands upon thousands of photos. So it seemed only fitting to end our time together with flash after flash of cameras clicking to document the reunion, which concluded with a spontaneous chorus of "Happy Trails."

My niece has hosted me, my family, and my younger sis this week. I am here for three more days--a lot to ask. But she has carted, cooked, laundered, and served with absolute cheerfulness. The trees in her backyard are already changing, and I've loved sitting on her porch enjoying the colors and the company.

The service today included this reminder from the mouth of a traumatized Jeremiah following the destruction of Jerusalem:

Though He brings grief, He will show compassion, so great is his unfailing love (hesed).
For he does not willingly bring affliction or grief to the children of men (Lamentations 3:32-33).

Time in Oregon

I'm in Oregon till Wednesday. My younger sis flies in tonight to join us for the Saturday graveside service. I will be glad when we're all together. It is a comfort to be with others who feel the same loss. The memorial service Wednesday night was like nothing I'd ever attended. You can read about it here. It helped a lot to be surrounded by my parents, brothers, cousins, nieces, nephews, long-time family friends, even some friends from back in high school...

Last night the three Glahns had dinner alone with my older sis and her three kids. I wish you could have heard my nephew's prayer over the food. He gave thanks for the family who brought it and went on to ask the Lord to watch over his own family who no longer have an earthly father but will always have the presence of their heavenly Father... We spent a quiet evening playing some board games, talking, and even laughing until we cried as we recounted some of Gordon's antics.

Thank you again for your prayers and expressions of support. They mean so much.

Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou are not so;
For those whom thou think’st thou dost overthrow
Die not, poor Death; nor yet canst thou kill me.
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And Death shall be no more: Death, thou shalt die.”
--John Donne, 17th century English poet

Where I Am...

The service for my brother-in-law is Wednesday night in the gym of the high school in Vancouver, Washington, where he taught science and technology. A family-only graveside service is scheduled for Saturday.

Then Sunday is my uncle's memorial service followed by a "pieluck" (instead of a potluck--because he loved pie).

Two wonderful men gone within three days of each other. Shock.

Thank you so much for your cards, emails, comments, and prayers for us and especially for my sister's family. These expressions of support mean so much.

Some are angry. I'm sure I will be, but I'm not there yet. Some are asking why. I'm sure I will be, but I'm not there yet, either. Just stunned and grieved. And re-reading those verses about how those who have repented will never truly die. And how those who overcome are dressed in white forever...

That's not to say I'm not thinking. I am. And here's where I'm landing at the moment: I have a new appreciation for the sacrifice of the Lord Jesus Christ. If the person who killed Gordon were to tell my sis and her kids, "I will mow your lawn for months to pay you back," we'd all be highly offended. As if...! Nothing he could do could ever possibly "earn" or "pay back" even a fraction of such an infinite debt.

Yet that is how God feels when I try to "repay" the debt for my own sin. Such works insult the Almighty, the Holy One, the Maker of Heaven and Earth. And that is where karma fails. Jesus' death in my place and resurrection life bring the only worthy exchange. So we worship God and love people--Gordon's stated life goals--not to "earn," but out of gratitude for grace already provided on our behalf.

This is why we cry, "I repent. Have mercy!" This is why we sing NOT "Our Sufficient Works" but "Amazing Grace." The debt is paid--with interest!

That is also why we must repeatedly call on God's grace to enable us to forgive the one who brought about the grief. "There but for the grace of God..."

My family

Jonathan, 14; Julia, 19; Carrie, my sis; Caleb, 22. Gordon's legacy. He loved them well.

I Love You---in a Positive Sort of Way

Here's today's news story in The Columbian about the vigil last night.

And another.

In Memory

Family, friends, colleagues, and students gathered last night in Vancouver, Washington, in a candlelight (and light saber) vigil honoring "Gordon the Science Warden" Patterson, my brother-in-law, who was killed Tuesday when struck on his commuter bike in a hit-and-run accident. An arrest has been made in the incident.

A photo gallery that includes shots of my sis and her kids is available on The Oregonian web site.

On the Facebook page dedicated to "Mr P," one student wrote, "Even though we are grieving and his family even more so... his kids are able to share the Gospel with those who knew him in a place he could not. What a legacy he left in his own kids' lives."

True, that.

Life Done Right

My sister called this morning--the one who lost her husband on Tuesday in the violent bike/car collision. She said every morning when she and her husband parted, they kissed and said, "I love you." So guess what her husband's last words were to her? Yeah, "I love you."

She didn't get to say goodbye. She didn't get to hold his hand or look into his eyes knowing she would not do so again this side of heaven. Just the shock of driving near her church, seeing the mangled mess of a bicyle and lone shoe on the pavent, and recognizing immediately her beloved was with Jesus.

I thank God for their little ritual. It gives me comfort to know his last words to her were not, "Honey, can you pick up some milk?" or "Have you paid that gas bill?"

"I love you." That's a good ending. There's a lot of crummy, awful, horrendous stuff surrounding Gordon's death. But the stuff within his control was well done.

The Driver Was Arrested

Here's an update on my late brother-in-law, Gordon Patterson. A nicely done story. I emailed the journalist to thank him, and he wrote back to tell me why he wrote it. His own daughter was a student at Gordon's high school. Her name was Anne Elizabeth B-something. Apparently Gordon, recognizing in her someone nervous about starting high school, saw her out in the hall and called out "Hi, Anne Bolelyn!" When she was weepy about missing the vigil for him tonight because it conflicted with a competition, her dad knew something special from the soul of the school had passed.

http://www.oregonlive.com/news/index.ssf/2009/09/vigil_planned_thursday_night_f.html

Please pray for a course correction in the life of the young man who hit him. He was, according to one source, actually a former student of Gordon's.

I just talked to my sis for about an hour. She said Gordon was known for telling the students, "I love ya--in a positive sort of way."

Last night a bunch of kids from the school attended the youth group where Gordon often taught in a white coat in his persona as Gordon the Science Warden. One girl told my sister, "On my first day of high school, I planned to go home and kill myself. But Mr P saw me in the hall, and since he didn't recognize me, he said, 'Hey! What's your name?'"

"Jennifer." (Or whatever her name was--I forget.)

"Hey, Jennifer, I love ya! In a positive sort of way."

"Mr. P saved my life."

My sis said he was always frustrated that he was not allowed to boldly proclaim the gospel in the classroom. Now, she said, he gets to reach these students with the message of Jesus' love. They get to share the true Source of their hope.


"He gives and takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord."

Speechless Wednesday

We're speechless today...

Last night a motorist struck and killed my sister, Carrie's, husband, Gordon, as he was biking home from work.

Please pray for my sister and their three kids, Gordon's parents, my extended family... My dad lost his brother last week, and now this. Life is short. Hug your loved ones.

Here's a link to the news story:
http://columbian.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20090915/NEWS02/709169948/-1/NEWS

Above is the last photo taken of him--with my sis on the ferris wheel at the Oregon State Fair sixteen days ago. On the right, you see him in costume as Obi Wan in his fun-science-teacher role at Hudson's Bay High School.

Author Interview: Leigh McLeroy

Today I want to introduce you to my friend Leigh McLeroy, author of Treasured, which launches today. Enjoy! (Register for free book giveaway below.)

You say that Treasured brings God close. How so?

Treasured brings God close the way the incarnation brought God close. When Jesus became a man, he entered our world – Eugene Peterson’s The Message says flesh and blood “moved into the neighborhood.” And because we have a God who inhabited flesh and created heaven and earth and all that it holds – it only makes sense that we might experience him through created things. The psalmist said the heavens tell of the glory of God – but the earth does, too. So when we take the time to examine and reflect upon the tangible evidence of his presence and his love, we are drawn to him in a personal, experiential way. He is not and has never been a far-away God – he’s a God who came close, and stays close: closer than our next breath.

I remember you mentioning that the idea for the book started with you receiving a box of your grandfather’s mementos after he passed away. What did you learn about him from that?

In the first chapter of Treasured I describe the contents of an old cigar box I received after my grandfather’s death. The aunt who sent it probably never imagined it would mean so much to me – but every small thing in that collection of his told me something about him. That he kept keys, even years after he was allowed to drive, or had a house of his own. That he had lathered his face with an old bristle shaving brush, and that he kept the business card I gave him from my first job out of college. It was still in his wallet. Opening that box and seeing those common, everyday things made him even more real to me. You can tell a lot about people by the things they keep. And it occurred to me that God was a collector of sorts, too – that his book is filled with tangible objects that tell a story – His story. That was the genesis of this book. Its original working title was God’s Cigar Box, which I liked a lot – but publishers were afraid it might scare people off by implying that “God smokes.” So the title became Treasured, but the concept is the same.

Why is it important to have tangible reminders of God’s love and faithfulness?

Sometimes we need something to help us remember – a rubber band around the wrist, or a sticky note on the mirror. When the children of Israel finally crossed the Jordan River to inhabit Canaan, they were instructed to gather stones from the river bed and assemble them on the other side as a monument to God’s faithfulness. Then when their children asked, “What do those stones mean?” they could recount the story of their deliverance, and celebrate again God’s goodness toward them. There were twelve stones gathered from the river that day, and there are twelve “treasures” in this book, as well as twelve keepsakes of my own described in the final chapter.

Can you give a few examples from your book of the treasures that God keeps? And what do these reveal?

Sure. Actually, each chapter focuses on a single “treasure” from God’s story, unpacking its meaning and considering what it might say about God’s character. For example, there is a fig leaf from Eden – a reminder of the way God covers me, a fresh olive sprig brought back by a dove to Noah on the ark – a reminder that God is a God of new beginnings, and a bit of scarlet thread from Rahab’s house in Jericho – a reminder that our God is a God who includes. There’s also a bell from the hem of the high priest’s robe, and a string from a shepherd’s harp. In each case these treasures have a story of their own that not only fits into God’s great redemptive story – but that helps me understand my own story as well.

How does Treasured remind us that God is active in our lives?

When I see his involvement in the lives of his people I have to believe that he is no less involved in my own life. And that is thrilling to me. I can consider Hagar’s water skin and be reminded of how he knew my whereabouts in the wilderness, too, and gave me just what I needed when I thought I couldn’t go another step. And when I imagine a young singer-shepherd named David being cast against type as a soldier-king, I am more comfortable in those times when I feel less-than-equipped and wonder at the wisdom of God’s calling on my life. He hasn’t changed. His character hasn’t changed. What he was to Hagar and David and Ruth and Rahab, he is to me.

What are some of your own “treasures” that you keep?

The last chapter of Treasured inventories a dozen treasures of my own story…mementos of my walk with God that are personal and unique, and insignificant to anyone but me. The chapter was added to the original outline – I hadn’t planned it, but once the book was near done, it just made sense. And not to tell people about my “stuff” – but to prompt them to consider their own treasures, and to experience God in their own story! So…I have my first tiny Bible, complete with a rip in the spine and a pen mark on the picture of Jesus’ crucifixion. (I got a spanking for that.) There’s a laminated holy card given to me by a girl in a Bible study I taught for years, a glass box of ashes, a paper thin leaf and a handful of feathers. Pretty ordinary, right? But full of meaning between God and me. They’re the things that make the story mine. Yours would be different, but they would tell your story just as well.

How can readers put together their own collection of treasures? Is that something families could do together?

I would love it if Treasured inspired individuals or families to collect keepsakes of their relationship to God. There is also a short reader’s guide at the end of the book that suggests ways you might begin your own collection. And, I put up a Treasured public page on Facebook with a discussion thread called “What’s in your box?” where several readers have already shared a few of their treasures and what they mean. I love reading these!

How can we get more information about you and your book?

I have a website, http://www.leighmcleroy.com/ that gives information about my writing and speaking, a public “Leigh McLeroy” page on Facebook, and the Treasured Facebook page. And of course, the book is available through the normal retail channels and online – also as an e-book at RandomHouse.com.

If you order Treasured by following the Amazon box on the right, a portion of the proceeds will benefit our Kenya ministry. I'm giving away a free copy of Treasured, as well. It's a delightful hardback read from WaterBrook Press. To enter the drawing, leave a comment below. If you describe one of your own keepsakes, your name will be entered twice.

Rest in Peace

1986. Our team backpacked the Grand Canyon. My husband, dad, uncle, in-laws, and some friends. That's my fun-loving Uncle Herman second from left.

We lost him today. My father's only remaining sibling.

Please keep our families in your prayers.

Reflections about Walking on Water

This year at DTS, Paul Lanum is doing a writing internship with me. Paul got his start at Disney working on "The Lion King," and after involvement in a number of other films was the production manager for "Chicken Little." Recently he read Madeleine L'Engle's non-fiction book, Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art, and with his permission I am copying below his remarks to me about it.

I found Walking on Water delightful. Madeleine L’Engle discusses issues that I have been thinking about recently, including maintaining a proper attitude of humility and what constitutes “Christian” art.

She has such a refreshing sense of humility, both about herself and about the artist’s role in creation. She speaks of the art coming to the artist, with the artist’s responsibility to obey (pg 10) and that the artist must have courage and faith to abandon control (pg 191). When I think back to my time at Disney, both for myself and in my peers, one of the primary motivating factors in creating art, whether it was writing a screenplay, acting in a film or play, or supervising animation on a character, was personal glory. Even in those times when something almost miraculous happened, when we did something or wrote something and weren’t quite sure where it came from, yet it worked, magically, how quickly we credited ourselves and not God.

After watching "Flywheel" for the first time, I watched the “making of” documentary. What a completely different way to make a movie. These two pastors, with no film-making experience, prayed and felt moved by God to make a film. So with $20,000 they embarked on this adventure with no idea how it was going to come together. But one thing they did do was pray each step of the way, ask for guidance on each decision, including the story and the script, and gave God the credit. (Not that this is a recipe for success. How unnerving that God so chooses sometimes to heap vast quantities of talent on the most arrogant ingrates.)

Of course I want to succeed, but if there is that “great American novel” in me, then my Creator put it there, and while there is no excuse for laziness, no matter how hard I work, it still isn’t me. I love how a best-selling, obviously brilliant writer reminds me that, “if we are forced to accept our evident lack of qualification, then there’s no danger that we will confuse God’s work with our own, or God’s glory with our own” (pg 67). “The important thing is to recognize that our gift, no matter the size, is indeed something given us, for which we can take no credit, but which we may humbly serve, and, in serving, learn more wholeness, be offered wondrous news” (pg 237).

The odds of being a successful writer, or artists of any type, are pretty slim. So I think people are often surprised by success, and therefore not prepared for it. Now, I have no idea what God has in store for my future. From a worldly perspective, my past was successful, yet God may decide that the lessons I need to learn and the best path to becoming like His Son is through suffering failure. But, if I wake up one morning and find myself able to support myself writing and making films, may I always remember and acknowledge the true source.

L’Engle throws in some excellent one-liners:

O senseless man who cannot make a worm, and yet makes gods by dozens. - Montaigne (pg 95).

If you think you understand, it isn’t God - St. Augustine (pg 150).

The other line of thought that she keeps coming back to throughout the book is the idea of “Christian” vs. secular art. At one point she writes, “much so-called religious art is in fact bad art, and therefore bad religion” (pg 22). I do recall taking a class where a certain professor stressed the need for Christians to take a moment to ponder if the art that they created was indeed “good.”

There was a bit where she discussed a friend taking her young daughter to a Museum of Modern Art, but the girl didn’t like it because, “she didn’t like chaos untouched by cosmos” (pg 162). What an interesting way to describe the difference between art created by individuals with opposing worldviews. Some create cosmos from chaos, others revel in chaos.

I’ve spent some time debating with myself the best approach to take with writing and film-making. I’ll ask questions like, “Do I pursue overtly Christian material, or do I make it more subtle.” L’Engle clearly feels responsible to reach not just the Christian reader, but a much wider audience, almost in an evangelistic sense, yet without “pushing” Jesus. She is sensitive, kind, and caring towards the unbelieving. “The Christian artist is to be in this world, but not of it…in [it] as healers, as listeners, and as servants” (pg 57). L’Engle has a classic phrase regarding those who write with Jesus “in your face,” in that it shows “like a slip hanging below the hem of a dress” (pg 143). Ultimately L’Engle concludes that the chief difference between the Christian and the secular artist is “the purpose of the work…which is to further the coming of the kingdom, to make us aware of our status as children of God, and to turn our feet toward home” (pg 194).

One of her barometers for content, or what type of art to be involved in, was if they would be okay with their kids reading or seeing it. It reminded me of something John Lasseter said in a story meeting once, that he wouldn’t include anything in a Pixar movie that he didn’t want his mother to see when she went to the movie theater.

I love L’Engle’s profound disappointment with fragmented Christianity. I love her willingness to ponder the impossible, to be fascinated with the Transfiguration, to consider that God is still beyond our understanding, and to love Him for that.

You Can Help Right Now

From our pastor friend in DR Congo:

Hello my dear faithful friends. Please, I need your prayers for my own territory, Fizi. The armies are conducting their operations against each other. Please pray for God's protection. Both armies are facing each other. They are doing many violence to civillians and kill many people by torturing them. So please, hold us in your prayers.

Greet all,

Your friends in Christ

(The photo was sent as one picture.)

Wordless Wednesday

Book-Study Update

I finished Henry James's Portrait of a Lady last night. When I watched the end of the movie, I thought I was missing Disk 2. But the book proved that I had, indeed, missed... nothing. Amazing.

So upon her return to Italy, did Isabel stay with her husband or divorce him? The reader is left to fill in the blanks. But of course she must have gone back to the jerk who married her only for her money, because the only predictable thing about Isabel's character is her strong sense of duty and responsibility. She is after all a lady. The title serves as a clue, methinks. Now, whoever said old books all have happy endings--yeah, that person has not read this one. (Or Tess of the d'Urbervilles.)

Today I'm partway through Frankenstein. I always thought that was the name of the monster, not its creator. I also did not realize that the full title as listed on the title page is Frankenstein or The Modern Prometheus. Prometheus, you recall, was the champion of humanity known for his wit and wiles who stole fire from Zeus (bad idea) and gave it to mortals (worse idea). His punishment: Zeus had him bound to a rock, and an eagle ate his liver daily (it grew back at night). Nice, huh?

Featured Book

Today the Christian Authors Network (CAN) is featuring my new release Kona with Jonah. Hop on over to find out more.

Not So Funny...

This morning the drought in Kenya made the NY Times's top headlines. Our work is primarily with the Maasai and Pokot, mentioned in the article. We stayed in Baringo last year, one of the towns mentioned, as base for our time with the Pokot. Please pray for rain in Kenya and for Musa, our friend living and ministering there.

Start Your Short Week with Some Humor

"Don't Send a Man to the Grocery Store"

Socialism Smocialism

I have a friend at church whose daughter has cancer. Recently that daughter was informed of impending layoffs. If she loses her job, she loses her insurance. She has a couple years paying outrageous premiums with COBRA—difficult to do if you don’t have a job. And after two years, too bad.

Short of a miracle, if she doesn’t get medical care… I don’t need to fill in the blanks for you, do I?

So the current healthcare system is broken. Can we all agree on that? When my husband lost his job last year, the COBRA premium estimate they gave us for our family of three was $2,000/month. So we’re talking $24,000/year while unemployed. Yarright. When we looked for private insurance, he and my daughter could not even find someone to cover them. And we all consider ourselves in generally good health!

Last year a friend died of cancer, but not before all his friends got together and tried to help pay for experimental meds that his insurance wouldn’t cover. Is anyone adding to the cost of our current system the dollars spent helping our friends?

I’ve heard a lot of complaints about socialized healthcare. And I agree that our government is imperfect. The postal system comes to mind. Still, why am I not also hearing the same fears about socialized libraries, socialized schools, socialized military, socialized Medicaid, socialized Medicare, the socialized highway administration, and socialized fire departments?

I heard someone on CNN yesterday say if someone needs healthcare, he or she needs to go out and get a job to have coverage and work “like the rest of us.” I wonder if that person is part ostrich. It’s really tough to get a job a) in this economy and b) when you’re sick. Not in that order. And our companies are cutting back on benefits while not raising wages.

This is a social-justice issue. No, it is not a human right to have healthcare. BUT in a country as rich as ours, it ought to be an American right. The Bible describes poverty as having nothing to change into when you wash your clothes, and having to earn money before you can buy your next meal. Those of us who have one extra can of tuna or peanut butter and a change of clothes fit this description of “wealthy.” And that’s still true worldwide today. Americans, let’s face it, poor as we may feel right now, are flat-out rich.

Today I received a brochure from the Christian Medical Association stating their organization’s belief in the following:

Healthcare must be…

. Affordable

. Accessible

. Quality-focused

. Prevention-oriented

. Responsible

. Just and fair

. Ethical

I could not agree more. My faith puts a high premium on caring for the poor. And I have a selfish reason for feeling this way, too. I want my friend's daughter to live.

On Singles Having Planned, High-Tech Babies

Recently I received an email about a Christian unmarried woman considering the use of donor sperm to conceive a baby. Another woman who heard about it suggested a solution: the church should hunt down a man for her to marry.

Um, no.

Here is my response:

This advice, though well-intentioned, is misguided because it suggests a misunderstanding of the purpose of both marriage and the Church. The main purpose of marriage is not procreation. It’s oneness. Certainly procreation was part of God’s beautiful design for marriage, but it’s not the main thing. The same is true of the Church—its purpose is certainly not to serve as a find-a-mate service. (Believe me, that has been tried.)

We need to look deeper for our response.

Proverbs 30:16 lays out some natural laws, and among four things it says are “never satisfied” is a “barren womb.” God has created most women with a deep longing to marry and bear children. And this unsatisfied longing can break their hearts. For most women, even those with great careers, the job of “mommy” is their number-one aspiration. The inability to accomplish that desire could see a correspondence in a man being unemployed and unable to work for the rest of his life, even if he is healthy. One can learn to trust God to ease the pain, but the devastation is still a daily, lifelong hurt. Ever since Genesis 3, life on this planet has been filled with brokenness, and the longing described by the woman desiring to have a baby is one of many evidences of holy longings. The best response is for those around her to grieve with her.

She does have several possible ways of meeting the desire to parent. The first is to adopt a child who needs a mother. But everyone involved needs to understand something: This probably will not satisfy her longing to bear a child. Experiencing a child in one’s womb and giving birth—these are rites of womanhood to most women. So even if this woman does adopt, she needs to be allowed the grief evoked by not knowing what it’s like to look into the eyes of her own biological child. This is not being “stuck on genetics.” This is a longing that falls in line with the natural order of things—how God made us to work. The Church’s appropriate response is to weep with those who weep.

Single parenting is very, very hard, but better for a parentless child to have at least one parent than none. Another possibility is for this woman to change careers so she is intimately involved in children’s lives. Add to that volunteering to teach kids in church or as part of Big Sister program. But again, everyone must understand this will not satisfy the longing to have a child. It is only a healthy channel for investing in the next generation. Every kid on the planet could benefit from receiving more love. The most important ethical consideration, in my mind, for the woman seeking donor insemination—and the ethical reason why I would counsel against it—is the injustice to her potential child.

The Creator’s beautiful ideal is for every child to be conceived by two people, a mother and father, who are married to and love each other. In the mystery of male/female interaction, the child learns something about the image of God embodied in a father and the image of God embodied in a mother. The woman in the scenario described is setting out intentionally to bring a child into an un-ideal situation. And instead she needs to think about how it would feel to be that child.

If the woman desiring to be a mom proceeds regardless of this concern, she needs to know that the child also has a right to know who his or her parents are. Kids born to donor-insemination arrangements where the donor remains anonymous are now growing up and expressing their outrage. Many of them feel their parents considered only their own pain and not their children’s needs. So if this Christ-following woman feels she must proceed, she needs to choose a donor bank where the donor is identified. Her child needs to know her genetic heritage, and not just facts on paper. He or she will want to meet and interact with the sperm donor. And that is a healthy desire that should be met...which opens a big, huge, squirming can of worms.

As mentioned, I do not think a solution is for the church to hunt down a man. In 1 Corinthians 7 we read Paul’s epistle to church in a sex-crazed culture like our own, and in it he encourages his readers to consider staying single for sake of the Kingdom. The church in past ages has first overemphasized staying single and then swung the pendulum by overemphasizing married/family life. That’s where we are today. Instead, the church needs to help this woman find contentment in her broken-hearted state of singleness without children. (And not by offering trite sayings, platitudes, and just-trust-God criticism.) She will live with a holy longing all her life unless God brings her the right man.

Though she does not have a husband, the family of Christ is the ideal place for her to find that she does have fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, and yes—children. And as a reminder, God is still in the miracle-working business. So her spiritual family should also offer their fervent prayers for and with her that sooner than later she will find a man with whom to share an enduring, God-honoring love.