Tag: America

Walking in Freedom

July 4, 2021

Today in the USA we are celebrating our Independence Day.

Centuries ago, courageous men and woman were led by the Holy Spirit to risk everything and bring their families to a new land so they could worship God freely without the government dictating how, when, or where that could happen. Eventually, their descendants found the need to fight to uphold that freedom.

Much has changed over the past few hundred years and even more so in this past couple of years during which we’ve seen our religious freedom, constitutional rights, and liberties of “all men created equal” being challenged, disregarded, and even subdued.

All of that is important, and we need to stand courageously like our forefathers to maintain the freedom they first sought.

But there is another freedom that is even more important.

It is our freedom that Jesus Christ bought with his blood.

Here’s what the Bible says about our freedom:

“It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm then and don’t let yourselves be burdened again with a yoke of slavery.” Galatians 5:1

“I will walk about in freedom for I have sought out your precepts.” Psalm 119:45

“The Spirit of the sovereign Lord is on me because the Lord has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for captives…” Isaiah 61:1

“Now the Lord is the Spirit and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.” 2 Corinthians 3:17

God is all about our freedom.

Freedom from sin and from the enemy, Satan, who torments us with lies and accusations, wanting only to kill, steal and destroy those whom God loves. God longs for us to walk in freedom every day. Freedom that leads to peace where there is no condemnation or shame in Christ Jesus.

So whether or not our country remains free, our most important freedom comes from Jesus. That freedom is for everyone everywhere, not only for those of us in the USA celebrating Independence Day. True independence begins with total dependence on God.

Today, are you walking in His freedom?

How Would the Kids Take it??

May 5, 2012

Excerpt…

As soon as I arrived home (from the jewelry store), I Skyped Brendan so he could see my ring. He felt a bit sad to not have given it to me in person, but I thought the whole situation romantic and exciting.

“Did you tell the kids yet?” I asked as soon as I finished telling him the story of the lady in the jewelry store.

“Uh, no. Actually, I didn’t think of it.”

“Really? I called everyone while I was still in the airport in Australia.”

It seemed inconceivable that he wouldn’t want to tell the kids right away.

“When’re you gonna tell them?”

“I reckon I’ll tell them later after dinner. I want to have a good sit down with them and explain about moving to America. I’m not sure how they’ll take it.”

I supposed that made sense. After all, it’s a pretty big deal to tell your young children that you are going to marry a woman who will become their second mother.

“Oh, and by the way, we’re all moving to another country thousands of miles away that you’ve never seen before. You’ll have to give up all your friends and family here, and you will be plunged into an unfamiliar culture where everyone will think you sound cool when you talk, but they won’t understand a word you say.”

I so didn’t envy Brendan that conversation. Naturally we were counting on the fact that this was God’s idea, and he must have a way to make it work not only for us, but the children as well. It’s not like he would do something to bless us at their expense. We really had to trust that somehow he would make it okay for them in their hearts and thoughts. They seemed closer to me as time went on, so we believed he was working in their hearts.

To Brendan’s amazement, all the children received the information with positive comments and excited questions! Even Brodie voiced interest in making the move.

Another miracle in our eyes. Seven children all on board with this momentous decision was no small feat!

Conflict Makes a Story…Immigration Part 3

January 20, 2012

So, I just finished reading Donald Miller’s book A Million Miles in a Thousand Years and his words still reverberate through my mind at various times through my day. (I highly recommend the book which you can check out at www.donaldmillerwords.com ).

In his book, he talks about the process of making one of his other books (Blue Like Jazz – another amazing work of art) into a movie, and what it took to create a story of his life that would be interesting and worth viewing. Truth is, he learned that he wanted a better story to his life period, so he began engaging in life in ways he had never imagined. Way to go, Don.

One of the things (too many to mention here) that grabbed me about his book was the idea of conflict causing change in characters. Now, I was taught in writing classes that a good story must have what we call rising action, a series of conflicts that build to a climax after which the action falls into some type of resolution. Writing 101. However, even though we write about life and things we know about or hope for, it never occurred to me that the conflicts in my actual life were creating a better story.

Since this blog(and the book in progress) is about my life, I asked my writing critique partner if she thought there was enough real conflict to make my story interesting. She assured me there is, and as I’ve taken another look, I’ve begun to see that what makes our story a great story–other people’s words not mine, though I agree–is not how romantic it is, but that there have been tremendous conflicts faced and overcome. We started on an impossible journey and watched the conflicts build and resolve as we kept saying yes and moving ahead.

Hence, the immigration issues we’ve faced make for a better story. Thank you USCIS.

To continue the story….

Within just two weeks we heard from America and Australia that the approved application for Brendan’s visa had been received, and he could submit all the necessary paperwork to the consulate in Australia. They kindly enclosed a list of about a dozen required items including a police report, fingerprints, a medical examination and clearance, all the previous documents in duplicate (what did they do with the other four copies?) and, of course, more money.

I have to confess that we cheated a little. I had already done extensive research to find out what things they would ask for before we got the letter asking for them so that we could be ahead if possible. Remember, we were in a time crunch with a wedding hopefully taking place in just six weeks. So when we received the letter, Brendan had already made the required doctor appointments for him and the kids in Brisbane, and was ready to head out the door to get his police report taken care of.

But when he called me hours later, I was crushed. The police report would take 6-8 weeks they said. And that was just one part of all the things we needed done before he could fly to Sydney (with the kids) to submit it all for the visa. We didn’t know what to do.

“Did you tell them you needed it as soon as possible??” I snapped at him. Like it was really his fault.

“Yes, darling. I did. No one really cares. They just said it would be that long when I asked, and then they moved on to the next person.”

I was so disappointed. I envisioned postponing our wedding for a second time. In all fairness, the website and letters we received made it very clear that we should not book tickets or plan weddings until a visa was actually in hand. Of course they didn’t take into account the details of planning weddings or travel now, did they?

“Well, I guess it’s another opportunity for a miracle. There’s no other option than to trust that God knows what he’s doing and will do the best for us.” I said the words more to convince myself than out of actual belief at that point. I certainly didn’t see how it would work out.

Brendan and I hung up, and I went and cried.

 

 

 

Immigration Continued Part 2…

January 13, 2012

Two weeks passed and we had less than two weeks until Brian and Carol’s wedding so we no longer expected that Brendan would be able to move here in time. Our plan B was for him to at least visit and be Brian’s best man, but even that couldn’t be managed as he tried to get business and household stuff in order for moving. Plus, his coming for a visit while his visa paperwork was in process could be viewed as his trying to get in illegally. In the end, he bought me a ticket to come back to Australia just a few days after the wedding. It seemed like the only option to address our misery of separation.

As we counted down to Carol’s wedding with no visa papers approved, Brendan and I realized that we would have to postpone our original wedding date as well. By that point, I actually felt okay about it. I called the wedding director at our church and told her the news. With gracious encouragement, she assured me that we could keep planning and adjusting as necessary. We checked out dates in May–I think there was only one open, and the next date was in July. I wanted to trust God for May.

Having Brendan miss out on Carol and Bri’s wedding broke my heart, but their day turned out to be beautiful, and I sent Carol off, a married woman, with kisses, hugs and tears of joy as well as some sadness. A few days later I left for Australia still with no visa paperwork in sight. It had only been a month so I tried to be realistic about my expectations while trusting that God could still do a miracle and shorten the time. Little did I know that while I was flying to Australia, someone was reviewing our paperwork.

The kids began to ask when they would be moving to America for the wedding. We talked to them honestly telling them that we had to just keep praying and trusting God with the timing. Blair said he wanted the visas right then and had a feeling they were ready. We wondered at his little boy understanding, but actually, when he said that, the approval was being stamped and mailed.

The papers were in my mailbox when I returned home. It had taken only six weeks–a step that was supposed to take six months at least! Naturally I called Brendan as soon as time zones would allow in order to give him the good news…and the bad; there was still a mountain of paperwork to be filed by him in Australia. This was just the initial approval. It said that if we hadn’t heard from the Australian consulate in four weeks’ time, we could contact them for further instruction…

Immigrating Continued…

January 13, 2012

Despair is the word I used in my journal to describe my feelings about missing Brendan and expecting government bureaucracy to cooperate with our plans to be reunited for an April wedding. I woke up every morning feeling sad with my heart achy and restless for him. I watched Brendan’s eyes show the same despair every time I talked with him.

I prayed feverishly for God to intervene, to make me patient, to ease the pain in my aching heart and to give me a bigger perspective. After all, Brendan and I would have our whole lives together; I had waited this long, what was a few more months…or gulp, a couple of years?

WAIT! My viewpoint was that I had ALREADY waited this long to have Brendan in my life, why did I have to wait longer?? Couldn’t I  figure out something that didn’t have to do with waiting? Maybe I should just go to Australia and marry him there even if it meant having to come home again without my husband. Couldn’t I have a guarantee that all the paperwork would miraculously be whisked to the top of whatever million applicant file it was in, stamped immediately and we’d call it good? Truth is, life just doesn’t work that way. But I asked God anyway and apparently, he does work that way.

God used the waiting time to show me how afraid of authority I still was. The unreasonable, incompetent government was in complete control over my future is how I saw it, but really God wanted me to see that HE was in control, even over the immensely huge and impersonal institution of the government. He showed me how situations in my past had caused this fear and distrust of authority and how it had affected my life over the years. He wanted me to be free. He wanted me to believe that he could and would do whatever good he planned for me even when it looked like I was helpless. He also taught me that one step at a time would get me where I needed to be and not to fret about the future, the past and what didn’t seem to be happening.

I also felt that the whole situation and the process of waiting for a miracle wasn’t just about us–it was to create a miracle for others to witness when they heard our story. Carol reminded me that God was giving us a testimony in our story, which is exactly what we had prayed for! We wanted others to be encouraged by what we were going through. And in the meantime, I started to learn how to live one day at a time.

The Other Side of the World

November 16, 2011

Marveling in the surreal impossibilities that had just become possible, we set off towards the “cah pahk” (translated car park or parking lot as we Americans say) with Brendan and I clinging to each other starry eyed and grinning. I couldn’t believe I was actually, finally touching him in person after all the weeks of waiting. Watching his face, listening to his voice, feeling his protective arm around me filled me with awe, and I whispered repeatedly in my heart “Thank you God. Thank you.”

They drive on the other side of the road in Australia which makes car parks treacherous for a sleep deprived American, especially a love-dazed one! I’m sure I was dodging cars left and left. I think Brendan asked if we wanted to go get some breakfast. Food was the last thing on my mind at that point—I just wanted to stare at Brendan and listen to him talk. We decided to get out of the airport and search for food back in the Gold Coast where Brendan lived. Surfer’s Paradise, voted one of the best beaches in the world, was on the way to Brendan’s house so we headed there. The forty minute drive gave me plenty of time to gaze at my Aussie man and take in the sights which are not unlike ours in California. In fact, the similarity of certain areas, with groves of Eucalyptus trees like the ones where I live near Santa Cruz, surprised me.

“Do you have surf clubs in the States?” Brendan asked as we neared the beach.

“Surf clubs? Like a club in high school that kids who surf belong to?” I asked, struggling to figure out what he might be referring to. Already I discovered that language would be an interesting challenge when he told me our luggage was going in the boot. As far as I knew, boots only held feet not suitcases. In addition, Australians condense their words and often add “ie” to the end so board shorts are boardies; sunglasses, sunnies; environmentalists are greenies; and Ashley immediately became Ashie.

“No, I mean clubs along the beach that serve as headquarters for lifeguards who man the beaches,” he explained as we pulled up to Southport Surf Life Saving Club in Main Beach near Surfer’s Paradise.

Of course, we don’t that I know of, so I didn’t know what to expect, but the resort style restaurant on the beach didn’t seem much like a lifeguard hangout. We signed in at the front reception desk with Ashley and I as Brendan’s guests, reminding me of the tennis/golf club my family belonged to for a short time when I was a teenager.

Pictures of surfers and lifeguards along with various awards and memorabilia lined the walls. Windows graced the spacious, nearly empty dining room and framed the wide white sandy beach stretched in both directions for miles. Towers of apartments huddled in mass a couple of miles (or should I say kilometers?) down the beach. I considered any of the numerous California beaches I’m acquainted with, and while they hold some similarities, like the wide expanse of Pismo, Huntington or Coronado Beach, or the lofty buildings of Long Beach, nothing in my experience compares to the fine, bleached sand and aquamarine blue waves of Australia’s Gold Coast.

I don’t remember eating except for a vague recollection of limp strips of bacon. Breakfast completed, I shyly beseeched Brendan to allow us to go down on the beach for a walk.

“Now? Here?” He inquired.

“Yeah! Of course! It’s beautiful and I’d like to see it up close. The sand looks so fine and white. Is it? Is the water warm? Our water at home is almost always cold—no more than about sixty degrees in summer…” I rambled until I saw a momentary look of confusion cross his face.

“Oh, I mean, well, I’m not very good at converting it to Celsius. Do you know how?”

He did and with a little computation eventually arrived at a figure that surprised him.

“Wow! That IS cold. The water here is much warmer.”

“Can we go check it out?” I timidly asked again.

“Ash, are you up for it?” I checked.

“Yeah, sure,” she replied.

Off to the car to grab a hat for Brendan. Since Australia has one of the highest incidences for skin cancer in the world, four times that of Canada, US and the UK, Australians tend to outfit themselves with rash guards (called rashies of course), caps and sunscreen fairly fastidiously. But as Brendan hadn’t anticipated this outing, his cap remained at home. Ashley came to the rescue with her Virginia Tech cap, and so our first pictures together on the beach in Australia featured Brendan sporting an American collegiate baseball cap. How fitting.