Outside the camp

[trying]

I read an article on Hebrews this week.  The part that most caught my eye was something the author wrote about Hebrews 13.  The chapter begins with a list of instructions for life.  These include loving each other, showing hospitality to strangers, remembering prisoners...

Later the chapter goes on to speak of what Jesus did for us---specifically that he suffered outside the gate, or outside the camp.  Therefore we are to go to him outside the camp, and bear his reproach.  The place we will find Jesus is outside the camp.

He wrote of a ministry his church has, bring a meal once a week to a roadside spot next to a forest where homeless people camp.  He goes there each week to help with the meal, and hoping to find Jesus in some way there with the people he meets.  He says he doesn't always recognize him.  But he keeps looking.

So I've been thinking about this, and one place that is outside the camp for me is to try to raise children with rad.  We are outside of the comfort zone, outside the 'normal', we are reaching out to those who are hurting the most.  And we bear the reproach.  We are misunderstood, etc.

The author wrote that it is outside the camp that we find Jesus, and I was wondering how that has or has not been true for those of you on this board.  I want to add my own thoughts later, but right now I have to get some quick work done away from the computer so I'll get back to this.  I'd love any honest responses, positive or negative. 

[Jeannie]

Trying, since I read your post I've had a lump in my throat.... the thoughts you shared touch me deeply.

I've thought a lot about attachment disorder and the Lord.  My first questions about the problems with my son were "What's happening?  What did I do wrong?  Did I miss the Lord's direction in this adoption?  What future do we have?"  and so on.

As I've understood more - about attachment, woundedness, my own hurt in the ongoing difficulties - I've come to see Jesus differently, too.

He understands attachment disorder.  We choose to relate to Him, or to refuse to relate to Him, usually based on our own agendas.  I come to Him with my lists of wants and needs.  Like our kids come to us.  I forget Him easily when things are going along fine, blame Him when things don't go well.  Like our kids, again.  And still He stays in the relationship, still He whispers my name and says He loves me.  Like we try to do with our kids.   

On another level, I'm understanding more the depth of His love for our hurting children.  Through no fault of their own they have been terribly damaged.  He sees.  He puts them in homes where they are given the chance to heal, to love and be loved, to choose Him.

I've often thought that my DS8 was chosen out of many, many others by none other than our Lord.  He saw this baby boy, said  "That one belongs to me", and sent me and DH and our biokids to be His physical hands and heart on earth.  DS8 has a chance to choose the Lord.

But the cost is great.  And we find ourselves "outside the camp".  But you know what?  Jesus is there.  Here.  Praise His Name!

[Truebluemom]

On a good day I recognize the depth of personal growth I can have when I go through difficult experiences.  I love good times, but they don't change me.  It's only in identifying with Christ in his suffering that I become more like him.

On other days, I'm more like Tevye in Fiddler on the Roof: "Dear God, I know we're your chosen people, but once in awhile couldn't you choose someone else?"     I always loved that line!

[trying]

My faith journey has been a long road, with a lot still to learn.  One of the most significant times for me was when my two oldest children were under four years old.  I was reading about families in war torn areas who didn't have enough to feed their children and were watching them starve.  I remember crying out to God to protect us from that, to protect my children from that. 

The response was not audible but it was certainly immediate.  "I love those children just as much as I love yours---more than you can imagine."  I was left to weep and ponder this truth, that children God loves are in danger and hungry.

When we decided to foster parent, and then later to adopt, it was at least partly out of response to this prayer.  I knew that as the body of Christ, we were to be hands and feet of Jesus.  We were to feed the hungry, provide refuge for those who were in danger...

Well, you all know that this journey is a lot more than we think it is when we begin.  We had no idea of how much our children would require of us. 

But Jesus loved us so much that he came knowing we would kill him, but also knowing that his dying would somehow save us. 

I find it hard to stomach the kind of Christianity that is not willing to suffer with Christ.  I'm tired of hearing rich white American Christians who take no risks for their faith attribute their richness, their safety, their comfort to Jesus.  Jesus was not comfortable.  If we are following him, we probably won't be either.  We will be facing the messiness of working with a world that is hurting and broken.

Right now my son's ex-girlfriend carries his child.  She comes from a family of abuse.  My son won't send her any money.  She pays the rent and buys the groceries on her meager income from KFC because all she has is a high school diploma, a borderline personality diagnosis, and MS.  Her world is completely different from mine, filled with young girls like her who have several children, each with different fathers.  Most of the fathers also have several children scattered among different mothers.  Many are in trouble with the law, or are addicted to drugs, or are in gangs.  If Jesus loves these kids as much as he does mine, I'm going to have to get even farther out of my comfort zone.  I'm going to have to find a way to go even farther out of "my camp".  It scares me.  I'm so out of my element that most of the time I feel like I have no idea what I am doing.

But even my own home has become a place that is outside the camp, when we moved our kids in.  I have learned so much from being stretched by them.  I told my small group the other night, sometimes I can hardly wait for the youngest to be out of high school so that the conflict can be over.  But then, how will I grow?  There isn't a day with ds15 when I'm not struggling to be more like Christ, to react more like Christ would, to love more like Christ would.  And struggle is the right word, because I mess up so much.

So anyway, thanks so much for your responses.  They mean a lot to me.

[Jeannie]

Thanks, Trying, for putting into words something so deeply felt and precious.

It's all so hard.

And I've just got one DS8, and he's not even diagnosed with RAD.  I don't know how you and others on the board have survived!  The difference between parenting DS and my 3 bios is HUGE.  I used to think I knew what I was doing, that I was a pretty good mom.  Not anymore.  But that's okay in a way.  It puts me flat on my face before the Lord, completely unable to offer Him any good thing;  just my broken self and empty hands.  (And like Truebluemom said, sometimes wondering why God didn't choose someone else for the job!)

Again, thank you for bringing up this thought about being "outside the camp", identifying with Jesus in His reproach and in His suffering.  It encourages and helps me.