The other night I decided to google the location of one of the orphanages we pray and hope to adopt from. With China being such a huge country, I wasn't exactly sure where we might end up on the map. The online map zoomed in on the city where we hope to travel to someday. As I began to zoom out to see how FAR this trip could potentially take us, this journey became just a little bit more real. Was I scared to consider the long flight we'd be taking? You bet. Did I have little movies of our plain hurtling down into the Pacific Ocean, finding myself on a mysterious island similar to the one the show LOST? Yep. I have been on some pretty long plain rides in my life, but the vastness of this journey blew me away. It may be a "small world after all", but from Port Huron, Michigan to Eastern China, the distance is HUGE. Distance can also feel very comfortable. Growing up, I remember various ads that would come on television that were "upsetting." One of those ads featured boys and girls from Ethiopia, barely clothed with bloating bellies from malnutrition. Typically, my response, "repulsed" by these images, was to turn the channel or look away. After a sixty seconds or so, the ad would have changed to a sugary breakfast cereal or McDonald's happy meal. The hungry, Ethiopian children remained, separated by a whole Atlantic Ocean, on the continent of Africa. Poverty, need, malnutrition remained at a comfortable distance. Oh, as I "matured", I would inch a few centimeters closer to engaging the lost. Those red kettles the Salvation Army places out at Christmas time? I would inch a little more closely to "helping" those in need by placing a few spare pennies, dimes, and quarters. A friend posting Facebook about losing a loved one or going through a difficult financial time or revealing that the diagnosis was cancer? Facebook helped me with this. I could quickly and easily post that I would be praying for them, and hopefully I would actually do that. The busy, self-important life creates instant canyons between the hurts of this world and my life. When one has papers to grade, dinners to make, rehearsals to run, television shows to watch, Clash of Clans to play....oh wait...., when one is "busy", it is a "real" but easy response to not have enough time to care for the hurting around you. Or you only allow a few milliseconds of your life to address pain of those around you. Just the other night, I was leaving the performing arts center I work at after rehearsing for our current play, Peter Pan. It had been a long rehearsal. I was tired. My kids were tired. And my "to do list", which so often bullies me in these situations, was nagging me to get home to get STUFF done. One of my students, who was still waiting for a ride home, had appeared to be dealing with some burdens. Throughout the entire rehearsal process, with this particular student, I had noticed a carried sadness. As I was quickly exiting the theater, this student was still waiting for a ride from home, continuing to look very down. Without much thought, I asked how things were going and if life was going okay. I figured I'd get a quick response, share some insta-wisdom or quick encouraging words, and get my van moving towards HOME! I wanted to keep that comfortable distance from this student's problems. As this student began to reveal the hurt happening at home and the feelings of insignificance that were being felt, that panic to "get going", to hurry, started to hit. By God's quiet voice urging me to just stay and just listen, and despite the looks I was getting from four pairs of eyes from inside my van, I remained. I listened. I, for once, didn't put distance between myself and the concerns and hurts of others. This was NOTHING heroic. There was truly no huge sacrifice, except that I would be a little later to going home and putting my feet up. But I was reminded, as I have been so often lately, that real impact only occurs when I remove that distance between my life and the hurt in this world. As I listened to this student for a few brief moments, I could tell that this was exactly what was needed. Too long I have uttered the words, "That's too bad" or "I'm so sorry to hear that" or "I'll pray for that", simply allowing my compassion to echo across the many miles between me and the hurt of this world. Words, as we all know, mean really nothing without action behind them. And for years, I have seen Amber's heart be moved by the orphans of our world, and I've always felt that by uttering my concern for those without mothers and fathers I was doing my "Christian best." I have kept a comfortable distance between me and the orphanages of this world. But God has moved me. I no longer want to view the hurting of this world behind high-powered binoculars. It is time to open the door of my home and invite the hurting to sit at my dinner table and join me, another person who spends much of his time feeling hurt and lost. As this journey for adoption continues, and the stressful moments continue to arrive, please pray that I no longer allow "ease" and " momentary difficulty" and "worry" to begin placing distance between my heart and the needs of humanity, between my heart and a little orphanage in Eastern China where we hope to invite a young boy into our hearts and home. What good is it, my brothers, if someone says he has faith but does not have works? Can that faith save him? If a brother or sister is poorly clothed and lacking in daily food, and one of you says to them, “Go in peace, be warmed and filled,” without giving them the things needed for the body, what good[a] is that? So also faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead. James 2: 14-17
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I love the sound of waves. For the longest time, one of my favorite summertime activities, minus the sand that gets caked on your bare feet, is to sit on Lakeport State Park's shorelines or at Lighthouse Beach and simply LISTEN to the waves. (Yes, I have been one of those suckers that bought one of those apps with the white noise of rain and waves playing on repeat to lull myself to sleep.) Peace overcomes me every time I simply close my eyes and listen to the rhythm of the water reaching the shore. As a college student, trying to make sense of life, I would often sit lakeside staring out into Lake Huron, listening to the waves, and simply allow God's voice to speak. I'm finding that there is quite a different experience between standing on the shoreline and actually standing ON the waves. Shorelines provide safety, provide distance. I can simply sit and listen. Stepping out into the water leads to uncertainty, leads to potential risks. If I keep moving away from the shore, those waters will be over my head. Yeah, it's much easier to sit on the shore and listen to the waves. I really like the shore. On Monday morning, the story of the disciple Peter stepping out of his boat and out ONTO the waters popped randomly and mysteriously in my head. There were no songs on the radio that brought this to my mind. From Matthew 14, the moment goes down like this... 29 And He said, "Come!" And Peter got out of the boat, and walked on the water and came toward Jesus. 30 But seeing the wind, he became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, "Lord, save me!" God calls Peter OUT, away from the just listening to the white noise of the waves. In faith, Peter steps out. That darn wind kicks up. Those waves, once pleasant to listen to, reacting to that violent wind. Peter becomes frightened and begins to sink. It's been interesting to read and talk and hear some of the responses to the announcement of our intention to adopt from China. Either through reading the transparent thoughts on this blog or by visiting with Amber and I, when I have been in a "doubting mood," people have wondered if I was "talked into" this journey by Amber. They wonder how much I really want to move "off the shore" and out into unsafe, wind-pushed waters. My reply? The shore is safe. SITTING ON the shore is easy. I love the sound of the waves, with me NOT having to attempt to walk out on them. Sitting on the shore has that same comfortable feel that my pew or seat does during Sunday morning church. I don't want to get wet. I don't want to drown. Being real and truthful about my doubts and fears and concerns has typically become inactivity. When I've listened to my buddy, Caleb Bislow, share about traveling to dangerous parts of Africa or Asia, my heart has been stirred. But I looked out into the dark waters and have remained on the shore. When I've read about my neighbor and friend, Dennis Cook, spending time on the streets of New Orleans, Nashville, and New York City, simply listening to the homeless, the broken. My heart as been stirred. But, in my "realness", I've looked out into the choppy waters, considered the depths that could overcome me, and have remained on the shore. So has Amber's insistence broken me? Am I just caving based on a past of saying "no" to journeying out into the waters? Maybe. I'm not entirely sure. But through the pictures and stories from Chinese orphanages, I hear something that Peter heard across those waters. "Come." It is the voice of the Creator, who I often doubt. "Come." It is the voice of the Savior I sing loudly about trusting. "Come." And let me continue to be real here. Despite my willingness to focus on what I believe to be God's will,those winds are still howling and those waves are still moving. You see as comforting as the sound of waves might be while resting on the shore. When you hear the waves, while standing ON the waves, that sound is no longer a comfort. It's both distracting and a solid dose of reality. Sure, Peter may have shown great faith to step out onto those deep, choppy waters, but the reality was that he was still STANDING on watersand below him were depths of reality that could easily drown him. And as I and many others have heard in countless sermons on this passage, when did he begin to sink and be overcome by that "reality"? When he took his eyes away from the direction of that Voice which called him. On this journey, some of my friends, who love and look up to, have written or shared their concern over the McCullochs adding a fifth child. Some have questioned motivations. For me, and with no disrepect to those I admire and love, I have to realize that this is simply the sound of that "wind" and those "choppy waves". As I am plagued by the discomfort of moving into a home study process, again what am I really hearing? Waves and wind. When I am barraged by an unusual amount of bills that make me wonder if we can truly pull off the expenses of this adoption, what am I hearing? Waves and wind. Should I be unrealistic? I immediately want to shout, "No! Of course not!" But my faith and walk with a seemingly invisible God has NEVER made much sense either. If I'm going to follow that Voice out onto and into the waters, I guess I need to be ready to trust more than what reality says. Again, we don't foolishly go. We realize we are placing our feet on TOP of deep, potentially life-threatening waters. If you visit our home, it may not be a Disney movie setting you walk into. Even last night, the sound of the wind and the waves was drowning out that Voice across the waters, which seems to be calling from a Chinese orphanage, saying "Come." But we DEFINITELY hear those REAL winds and those REAL waves crashing into the shore. I'm reminded of two songs that speak of that needed bravery and courage to follow God's call to adventure. One song is "You Make Me Brave." The other is appropriately entitled "Oceans (Where Feet May Fail)". Despite how many times you may or may not have listened and considered the powerful words, take a moment to listen. Perhaps, as we all listen to these words, we'll hear a Voice across the waters. A voice that rises above the sound of the waves, both soothing or nerve-wracking depending on where you hear them. A voice that simply says..."Come."
To my kiddos, Logan, Scout, Quaid, and Sawyer, As you have watched your dad, you may have noticed in the past couple of months that he has been going through some "dynamic" mood changes. A good percentage of my moods could be described with metaphors like "dad is a grizzly bear", "dad is a spontaneous erupting volcano", or, "dad is an ogre." I'm sure you've felt that "life with dad" has been an aggressive "roller coaster of moods". There have been lots of hills, the "up moods" and lots and lots of downs, those "not-so-fun tense and angry" moods. And while we're stating the obvious, we all know that much of your dad's stress and fatigue comes from the "schedule of events" that he creates. You know me. I LOVE to make memories. And while I'm learning to say "No" (well, I'm kind of "starting" to be able to utter that little word) and am finding that memories can be made by spending less money, by driving less, and by just staying home and playing a family game of Twister, your dad will always be a little wired to spontaneously go off on another crazy adventure (like riding eight miles around Mackinac Island or heading out to corn mazes on a cold, October night). But you know it has not just been my never-ending agenda of activities and work responsibilities that have been recently stressing your dad out. Your warm, kind, and compassionate mom, who is such an example of God's love to me and puts me to such shame with her selfless life, heard God's call to bring another child into our home. Now much of the world, and maybe even some of our own family and friends, think were a bit crazy. We are already just ONE child shy of being able to coach our own little McCulloch basketball team. Our home, while warmed hopefully by God's love and light, is not what you call a mansion. You are certain to see many people scratching their heads. And for some time, I have been scratching my own head at trying to figure out IF this is God's will for our family. And I haven't been the most pleasant to your mom at times. I'm pretty ashamed of that. While I truly do love making memories for YOUR sake and to create a magical childhood for each of you, those, sometimes pricey, memories were certainly for me. Add in our regular bills, and I just could not make sense of WHY, as noble and compassionate as adopting a child from another country is, we would begin this new chapter in our family's story. The stress of figuring this out and not being sure have led your dad to be pretty cranky to YOU and to YOUR mom, my wife and soulmate. My heart got downright icy at times, beginning to refuse the idea of loving any additional child outside our own home. I got worried as to how it would affect you. And I got worried as to how it would affect me, as your dad. But God's love and light has the amazing (and often very clever and surprising way) of melting the coldest of hearts. I did not necessarily have a moment like Dr. Seuss' Grinch did, where I hoisted a heavy sleigh full of selfishly-taken toys above my head as my heart instantly grew three times its size. God's Spirit led me to people, songs, thoughts, and moments that each began to slowly chip away at my heart. I'm FAR from perfect, and so I still have moments where I'm scratching my head. I'm scared and still nervous, but here's one of the biggest things I wanted you to know. Here is WHY your dad began to open his heart to this HUGE plan that God revealed to your mom. I realized what you were SEEING as you WATCHED your dad's day-to-day life. You were NOT seeing God's love in your daddy's life. What you saw was a busy, fatigued father that grumbled as he woke up, complained as he drove you to school, slept through family movies, and spent a great deal of time doing things mainly for him and NOT for God and others. And man, can your dad TALK the part of one that seems to be fully in love with God. Living it? Not so much. I've begun realizing that LOVE is only effective as an action, not just words. Sometimes LOVE, as God directs us, MOVES us to scary, new places. That LOVE might be to just listen to someone hurting. That LOVE might be to sit with that lonely person that everyone else thinks is different, based on their skin color or how he or she smells or the different way he or she dresses. That LOVE might be to go across the world to rescue a child and bring that child into our home. As I thought about HOW I lived my life, one that is impacted by what you really SEE, I realized your view of my life didn't really show you a great deal about God's love. It showed you a great deal about how much I loved ME. I remember recently a shining moment where you actually saw your dad begin to think of someone else. (My prayer is that you see this more and more in my life.) Remember when we were at McDonald's last winter and we saw that homeless man watching the television? He had a suitcase with him, containing all of his belongings, and had probably not showered for quite a few days. As we left, I asked YOU, my KIDS, if I should offer to pay for a meal for him. When you all enthusiastically said YES, I approached the older man and discovered how much a person could appreciate someone buying them a small cup of coffee and a dollar, McChicken sandwich. I remember the look in your eyes as you, for once, SAW your dad actually begin to LIVE out God's Love the way he always SPOKE about it. I wasn't a talker that day because LOVE was, for a brief moment, an action. I want you all to see that type of love within the many hours, minutes, and seconds of my life. NOT so you see your earthly dad as a great man. No, I want you to able to see how amazing our Heavenly Father is. When you see that selfless, not for MY glory, LOVE in action, you begin to see God and His love. I'm tired of you seeing your dad, just lounging in the Lazyboy recliner, watching television, and just filling a pew on Sunday mornings. So as God has continued to chip away the ice chunks off your dad's sometimes cold heart, I find an uncontainable, uncontrollable excitement and desire to bring home the child that will become a part of our family. And because it is God that fills the love I have in my heart for EACH of you, the addition of a child to our family will NEVER deplete the love I have for EACH of you. My love for all of my children, the four I have now and the one we pray and anticipate will only grow stronger and fuller. May the words of Matthew 5:16 be MORE than words in my life... "In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven." Logan, Scout, Quaid, and Sawyer, I hope as you WATCH and VIEW and SEE your dad's new and MUCH improved life that you'll see less stress and more of my trusting in God. I hope that you will see authentic, genuine, and REAL joy, not a burdened, angry, sad dad. I won't be perfect but I'm going to be more open to God PERFECTING me. More than anything, may you SEE love in ACTION. May you SEE God's love in your dad's life. LOVE, YOUR DAD Some mornings the drive to Marine City High School is pretty dark. The other day not only did my kids and I leave LONG before the sun would rise, but we left on a most chilly, rainy October morning. No amount of Christian radio or cups of coffee could perk up the weight of that morning's drive. It's pretty tough to be SUPER excited about beginning another day of school for either "teacher dad" or my kids, the students despite the presence of the sun. The morning drive will typically have three basic flavors: 1) INCREDIBLE enthusiasm and optimism for the FUN day ahead- (These morning drives make rare appearances only on the LAST day of school, the day BEFORE Christmas Break, half-days, days of theater productions, etc...) These mornings the Christian radio is blasting. We are ALL singing along. The sun is blazing BRIGHTER than ever before! We feel like we're in the ending of a Disney movie. THESE, rare, mornings are WONDERFUL. 2) STRESS and PANIC with a dose of CHAOS- (The "snooze button was hit too many times" type of morning. OR There are grades due (ME), tests to give (my "students" in the car), or dad has once again forgot to put gas in the car and we also hit the snooze button too many times.) These mornings, we pray a great deal. We PRAY for NO cop cars as I "expertly" drive us to school mimicking a NASCAR race or a chase scene in an action movie. 3) Dark and Silent Mornings- These mornings, which could be a result of "flavor #2"...the stress and panic flavor, are those where NO ONE talks. Tears could be in the mix, and our thoughts...our thoughts are not those of gratitude to God, trust in God, OR those filled with joy. Whether it is just the driver (ME) or the passengers (Logan, Scout, Quaid, or Sawyer), one, part, or all of us can find some morning drives to mirror the darkness outside are car windows. Whether its spiritual attacks, not relying on God, being too focused on ME, allowing life's worries and weights (and we ALL certainly will have them), or a combination of all of these elements, there have been mornings recently where I turn off the Christian radio, stare out into the rain-drenched darkness, and sit silent to my kids, to Amber, and especially to God. Believing God knows the innermost chatter of my heart, my heart's rantings are not silent to him. Despite NOT talking out loud, my heart is often brewing with anger and doubt and bitterness towards the Creator or towards others. Even this past week, a week that was suppose to be "calmer" but wasn't...a week where stress and worry truly conquered me, I had a few moments (in morning, noon, and night) where I was truly "driving in the dark." In a Facebook message reply to Amber, where she had brought up the next, out of a seeming million, step in the China adoption process, I wrote the following: I have to be honest. I'm super stressed. I know the adoption has a little to do with it, but I'm just overwhelmed Amber...I got attacked a little over this adoption this morning with thoughts that hit me. I was starting to have worries about how this affects our family. There were good thoughts for sure, and I'm definitely in the midst of a spiritual battle. I know that this is right, but there are still some really tough moments. I don't know. Part of my attack this morning was dealing with a big bullying incident here at the school yesterday. And then add that extra stress the stress of getting grading done...I don't feel well too. You can tell our kids are drained, and again, in honesty to my best friend, I know this process is draining on our kids as we fight and try to navigate the stress. I'm sorry. It's just "one of those mornings." I'm trying to trust God fully on many things, but I'm finding this a difficult morning. I feel we are already scraping by. Good news is NO pay cut for this school year. So I'll take that as God's faithfulness. I just wish He would intercede for (various friends of ours)... Facebook messages, like this one, are certainly not a few lone incidents. Both Amber and I have moments where we feel very much in the dark and having, as I wrote, "one of those mornings". I find my concerns, in relation to our adoption journey, usually centered around the impact of this adoption on our family and finances. Questions and concerns like these seem to come on especially strong on those cold, dark morning drives to Marine City High School. They also have been arriving in the middle of the night, waking one from sleep. These "darker moments", whether while driving in the car with doubt, or anywhere they might occur DO come. When they come, I find myself questioning God. For our adoption journey, some of the questions and comments have included, "How is this all going to work?" "God, this is not at ALL how envisioned our family's future to go." "Will this create jealousy and regret among my children?" "Is this stress going to tear us apart?" "How will we afford this?" And I know the "go to passage", among others, from Matthew 6 on worry. With the comfort it has brought many times, sometimes Christ's gentle words of "do not worry" fall on deaf ears, blind eyes, and a lukewarm heart. Sometimes, all I can see is the darkness in front of me. Isn't that the truth about driving in the dark, especially when it is pouring down rain? Your ability to see ahead is impaired. I am not God. I have no ability to see how the chapters ahead on this adoption journey, or ANY journey He calls me to, will go. From His vantage point, He can see the break in the clouds, the rising of the sun down the road. Me? I can only see darkness and rain. I can only see the section of the road I am on NOW. I simply want to pull over and change the course of this journey, but something said, some encouraging word, some slight revelation as to WHY we would add another member to this family, urges me to keep moving forward. Dark moments are certain to be ahead. Those moments may be those of stress, doubt, uncertainty, but we, as a family keep driving forward, trusting God. He sees a break in the clouds ahead. "Weeping may last through the NIGHT, but JOY comes with the MORNING." Psalm 30:5b (NLT) |
"Do not be afraid, for I am with you; I will bring your children from the EAST and gather you from the west" Archives
March 2017
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