Jesus Doesn't Call Us to be Radical: How our addiction to the radical can cause us to miss Jesus in the mundane

If you have hovered anywhere near or within Christian circles in the past couple of years, you no doubt have seen a call to being Radical. David Platt's enormously popular 2010 book of the same name beckons Christians to forsake the American Dream, the ordinary, the expected, and instead follow Jesus into the extraordinary, out-of-this-world, and unexpected (and rightfully so). By its very definition, living "radical" lives requires us to buck the traditional. In that regard, perhaps every God-seeking character in the Bible could be classified as radical: Abraham, Moses, Deborah, Esther, David, the twelve disciples. And of course Jesus Himself was radical. In fact, He was the epitome of all things radical, right?

So, what then, you ask, is so wrong with being radical? If Jesus Himself was radical, and we are to emulate Him, then is He not calling all of His followers to radical living? Well, yes, in terms of results and  how we live compared to the rest of the world. But are we to set out with the expressed goal of being radical? I'm not so sure. Here's why: As a side effect of this whole movement toward being radical, I'm afraid we have a tendency to put our spiritual carts before our horses. To seek the end instead of the means. And, in doing so, we miss the point entirely...that radical living is not about what we are doing, but instead about whom we are following. Think about it: The very essence of being a Christian means that Jesus is your Lord...that you will follow Him anywhere spreading His name for His reknown for all the world to know this Savior. If this Christian life is just about doing radical things, instead about whom we have pledged allegiance to, well, I know a good number of nice people who don't follow Jesus but live pretty radically. So, there must be more to this whole Christian life than just dreaming up the next radical thing in the name of Jesus. (And I'm certain David Platt would agree.)

Being radical is what happens when we follow Jesus into the unknown, step by step, day by day, even hour by hour, so that after months and years of reckless abandon following Jesus, we look back and say, "Wow, what God has done through me and in me and around me is pretty different from what society expects. It is pretty radical." And then we see that it's worth it and set out to keep it up.

There is a sort of addiction that comes with living life radically. Once you have tasted a bit of the seemingly radical, it is truly hard to sip the ordinary brew of life. I have actually heard several Christians recently say that they are in a "lull" in life, that they are bored, that they haven't done anything "radical" in quite awhile. Here they are, having accomplished great things for the Kingdom, whether through adoption, mission work in foreign lands, or evangelizing an entire neighborhood. And they are now unsettled, bored, and uncomfortable because they cannot detect a great Kingdom project on their life radars. Truth is, I COMPLETELY understand that feeling. In fact, I probably embody that feeling! Oftentimes I am that very person...wanting to save the world with gusto and instead "stuck" for the present at home in the "mundane" (a word I absolutely abhor yet know I must sometimes embrace):  homeschooling nine kids, chasing around a tenth, doing laundry, washing dishes, cooking attempting to cook meals for a dozen hungry people, being a chauffeur, restocking the pantry, cutting coupons, and on and on and bloody-heck on. Can I get a witness?

To be fair, once you've witnessed the indescribable and unexplainable work of God in your life, once you have had the humble privilege of being used as a vessel to accomplish acts of redemption in this world that you never would have dreamt up yourself, nor ever been successful to carry out on your own, there comes a sense of dread when living life in the ordinary. Surely God must have something more exciting for me to be doing right now, right? Surely He will be more pleased with me if I seek the extraordinary and trample the mundane, right? Surely this normal suburban life is not becoming of a radical follower of Jesus, right?

Hmmmmmm...Well, if life with Jesus is supposed to be radical, then what is wrong with seeking the next radical thing? Well, there is a LOT wrong with that. 

For one, we miss Jesus in the present. Instead of dwelling in Him daily, we can easily find ourselves discontent with "just a relationship" with Him. We are on the lookout for the next great thing. The next big problem to tackle for Jesus. The next faith-demanding adventure in our lives. And these are all great things. But Jesus is also in the small. He is in the mundane. He is in the ordinary. He is in the lunch-making, shirt-ironing, bill-paying, errand-running, diaper-changing, snot-wiping, laundry-folding. He is in it all. And, He demands that we be faithful in those things. Are we missing a spiritual need right in front of us at the sandwich shop while dreaming up how to save orphans in Timbuktu? How can we expect God to deliver the huge when we aren't even obedient or content in the little? There won't always be a grand Kingdom project on your present plate. And that might be precisely the point.

Second, us dreaming up the next big thing "for Jesus" might not require the Holy Spirit at all. In fact, the Holy Spirit might be beckoning us to do the exact opposite of what we are dreaming up. We can easily step out and say YES to something that the Holy Spirit isn't even prompting us to do at all. And, isn't it far more dangerous to step out of line with the Spirit than it is to sit and listen and wait?

Third, when we are so busy saving the world, we never allow God the chance to clean out our spiritual closets. To sanctify us. To make us holy for His purposes. Joshua 3:5 addresses this, telling us to “Consecrate yourselves, for tomorrow the LORD will do amazing things among you.” Seasons of consecration must come before God will use us for the supernatural. We must remember that doing something radical for Jesus does not excuse us from regular heart-cleansings. (In fact, it probably demands it all the more.)

And fourth, when are so discontent with the ordinary, we risk stealing another believer's opportunity to fill their purpose for that time in history. If we feel the need to be the perpetual hero, or never temper our addiction to the excitement that comes with such adventures, we will say YES to an opportunity when it was destined by God Himself for someone else to step up. That is a risk we must not take.

So, how do we live radical lives without missing the point entirely? How do we truly follow Jesus without treading on "trendy" territory at the cost of missing the Holy Spirit?

First, we stay in the Word. Daily. Hour by hour even. Continually filling our minds with Truth so that we don't fall victim to our own mindsets, all the while thinking that it's from God. Paul tells us in Romans 12:2 not to "conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind," for then and only then will you "be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will." STAY in the WORD. We cannot be "anorexic Christians," as my mom would say, and expect to please Him or accomplish much for Him.

Second, we pray. Always. Continually. Never-ceasing. We cannot possibly determine our next steps without devoting ourselves to prayer. When Jesus DOES call us to do something insanely radical (adopt? move overseas? start a Bible study with our unbelieving neighbors? move to the inner-city? quit our jobs?), we need to know that it's HIM and not our own imaginations. We cannot discern that unless we are bathing ourselves in prayer...and waiting to hear from God.

Third, we surround ourselves with all types of believers...not just those who live "radically," but also those who seem a little too ordinary for our liking. We give grace where needed, love to all, exemplifying a life of faith without minimizing others' own journeys with Jesus. Remember, God is ultimately in charge of who has "more noble" purposes in this world and who has "less honorable" (Romans 9:21). 

Fourth, we remember that everything in life is for a season, as Ecclesiastes reminds us. God knows we need seasons of normalcy sandwiched between seasons of insanity. He knows there are lessons we can learn only in the ordinary, so that when faced with the extraordinary, we are prepared. Even Jesus did not spend every single day blowing people's minds. No, He was a carpenter. I'm sure most days of His life on this planet seemed rather ordinary.

Finally, we remind ourselves that this life is not about us after all. It's not even about our amazing dreams for the Kingdom of God. It's about Jesus. When I remember that my life is not my own, I am forced to accept the mundane parts of it as well as the more exciting. It's all His.

So, perhaps Jesus isn't calling us to look for ways to be radical. Instead, as He has done from the beginning, He is calling us to dwell with Him, to live in relationship with Him, to abandon our own dreams, thoughts and plans for His. 

What's so radical about our lives as believers, then? Well, it's our radical devotion to a radical Jesus. That's what will get the world's attention, after all. Even in the midst of the mundane. Or, perhaps most especially. Because the truth is, when people's hearts begin to change in the middle of the mundane, well, that's pretty radical after all.

-heidi, one restless woman who is trying her darnedest to contentedly live out the ordinary parts of life while following a radical Savior.

Recommended Reading:

• Relevant Magazine recently ran a pertinent article on this very issue. I highly recommend it.
• Radical: Taking back your faith from the American dream (David Platt)---Confronts the realities of how the Church today is missing the point and how you can engage radically in your world right where you are because we follow a radical Savior!
• Experiencing God: Knowing and doing the will of God (Henry Blackaby)---If you want to truly join God in what He is doing, this Bible study is for you!
• The Irresistible Revolution: Living as an ordinary radical (Shane Claiborne)---This is my absolute favorite! Should be required reading for every believer in Jesus in America

His Story. His Glory. Period.

My life is not my own.

For nearly five years now, that has been both our mantra and our testimony as our family has followed the heart of Jesus to the heart of the orphan. [Well, to six of them, to be precise. Exhibit A: Gorgeous kids on right-->.] Those five years encompass a book's worth of adventures (both the highs and lows) all their own, triumphs and tragedies we could not and would not have written into our lives had we attempted to do so.

We are thankful for the sweet, intimate way God has carried us through it all. We have witnessed the wonderful. Walked the unimaginable. Experienced the painful. Praised Him for the provision. We have rejoiced in the miraculous. We have been filled only to then be poured out. We have given our all, only to receive His all. We have been broken, and we have been mended. We have been horrifically hurt and wounded, but also deeply loved and defended. We have celebrated and we have mourned. And all along the way, we have beheld His glory. His indescribable, unmistakable, irreplaceable glory. (We might even be a little addicted.)

During both of our adoption processes (see www.blessingsfromethiopia.com to read from the beginning starting in February of 2007), I have blogged our lives away, shared our story when asked and even (or especially) when not, shouted out loud for the sake of the orphan, and publicly documented our personal lives for all the world to see. So much good, so much fruit, so many Kingdom ripples came from it all. A documentary (We Have Room) in the works. A book on the very edge of being written. And all of a sudden God said "Shhhhh." Literally. He told me not to speak yet. To hunker down. To turn inward. To sanctify myself. To clean out the closets of my heart. To quiet myself. To listen. To hear. To stop.

And so I did. For nearly two years now, I've virtually stopped putting myself out there. In fact, I have hit the backspace more times than I can count, knowing that–though I have much I want to say–God hadn't released me to write again. God has taught me, ever so gently, to stay in step with His Spirit. He has shown me that a real danger of the social-media-driven blog-addicted world we live in, for better or worse, is that we live life in virtual fishbowls, swimming around as if no one is watching, while all the while many are. Pretty soon we realize we have an audience (how did that happen?), and instead of writing about our lives to an audience, we might unknowingly live our lives for the audience. And so, I knew I had to be obedient to God. At any point along the way, God could remove His favor from me, so I purposed to be extremely cautious about taking a single step outside of His will for me. And for this disciple of Jesus, it meant being quiet in the blog world. Not an easy thing for me to do, but the wealth of wisdom and healing and insight I have gained in return has been invaluable.

Truth be told, as much as I used to blog and am passionate about the written word, I've always been a reluctant blogger. I still crave anonymity and the privacy that comes along with it, but admittedly and  paradoxically appreciate the opportunities that come with putting oneself "out there." At the end of the day, though, I realize that this is not my story; this is God's. When I have much I can say, but He says "not now," who am I to pick up a virtual megaphone and loudly blabber on? And when He says "Speak now; it's time," who am I to shut up, no matter what privacy must be sacrificed on my part?

And so, here I am. Nearly five years after my first blog post was ever penned. Five years after God first spoke to me and said "Speak now" for the glory of the Kingdom, for the story He was about to write. For the story and the glory that are His alone. Who knew then the story He was writing? And who knows now the story that will come? Only He does.

And so I will write again. Because He has released me to tell the story of His greatness and His glory and His power. Of His redemption and unfailing love and steadfastness to us.

True, it is not the story I would ever have written for my life (trust me on that), but I am so humbled that God chose me to be part of it. I'm thankful that this is my life's story after all, for all it was, all it is, and all it will be. And I'm honored that He wants me to tell it.

My life is not my own.

“Consecrate yourselves, for tomorrow the LORD will do amazing (!) things among you.”  -Joshua 3:5

Merry Christmas!!!

~from the Weimer Dozen~

The Weimer Kids on Adoption

What does adoption mean to you?

"God calling me from brokenness to life. It is hope for new life." -Bereket, age 16, adopted at age 12














"Adoption means the world to me. I think of the words love, faith, and courage. Without adoption, I think of discouragement, no faith, and always looking down on myself. I wouldn't be so happy and enjoy life." -Eden, age 15, adopted at age 13












"Adoption means giving up and sacrificing a part in my family so that somebody else can have a family." -Brandon, 12, our oldest biological child, who at the age of 8 gave up his position in the family so that other kids could have what he has












"Changing a child's life to become a part of a family. When I think of adoption, I think that God is calling Christians to do it. Christians should adopt because you're changing somebody's life and because you will be following Jesus. When I found out I was going to be adopted, I knew my life was going to change and I was excited. Before that, I felt alone and without a family." -Bethlehem, age 12, adopted at age 8










"Adoption = life + awesomeness. Adoption rocks. When we adopted, I got a bonus because I got sisters!" -Isabella, age 9, biological daughter














"When missionaries came to the orphanage, we wouldn't eat anything because we were so sad that they left us. When people came and brought me home, and didn't just visit me, I was so glad and thankful. If I never got adopted, I would have been so sad and lonely. I would be scared that nobody would ever adopt me and I would have to get out of the orphanage and never have a family. I would have to make my own decisions and that would be really hard." -Selam, age 9, adopted at age 5









"People should adopt because people are homeless and they don't have food and very much homes and they don't have a family. They need to let them have a chance to live and have food and live in a home and be with their parents and be taken care of." -Joseph, age 7, adopted at age 5












"Adoption means that you take care of others and you try to bring home kids that don't have parents and then you teach them English. People should adopt because some people have leprosy and if their skin falls off we can bring them home and give them medicine. I'm glad we adopted because I get to have new people in our family. It makes us more happier to have more kids in our family. When you just play with other kids all the time, it's so boring, like it's like how the Israelites got bored eating manna every day. When we adopted, I finally got new kids to play with and I was so excited." -Justice, age 6, biological son, who always puts things in just the right words






"When you get adopted, you don't get to be alone anymore." -Micah, age 5, adopted at age 3














"It's the coolest thing having 9 older brothers and sisters who think I'm the best and cutest thing in the whole, wide world." -Dominic, 14 months old, biological son, if he could put his feelings into words













Need we say more?

Lest Orphan Care Become Our “lowercase g” god

While I have always had a burning passion for social justice (yes, I was "that" kid way back in the 5^th grade), it wasn't until the last four years—when the repercussions of social injustice were up close and personal in my own home after adopting six kids from Ethiopia—that my lifelong passion transformed into a zeal much like Jeremiah described in the Scriptures as "a fire shut up in my bones. I am weary of holding it in; indeed, I cannot" (Jeremiah 20:9). [Those of you who have ever followed my blogs or Facebook are probably nodding your head with gusto right about now and thinking that is the understatement of the year.]

Thanks in no small part to social media, the adoption community has grown rapidly over the last few years. The evolution of blogging, tweeting, and Facebooking has proven absolutely invaluable for the sake of the orphan, both in simple awareness and in fundraising. In turn, the adoption community has exploded online into a mighty force for the Kingdom as well as a unique support network for adoptive families. For all of the evils and annoyances of social media (and there are plenty), these are the things that make it worthwhile as a redemptive tool in the Kingdom.

During the last couple of years of watching this virtual adoption community increase exponentially, I have noticed that the collective passion has transformed into a collective zeal for the sake of the orphan. The Church, slowly but surely even if still with a long way to go, is awakening to God’s heart for the most vulnerable. THIS IS A GREAT THING and particularly refreshing for those of us who tend to feel like the social justice oddballs in the Church. I believe that God must be incredibly pleased with this awakening. In fact, since it is HIS movement in HIS Church for the sake of HIS children, I am sure of it.

While observing and cheering on this movement for the orphan, however—and particularly during extended quieted seasons when the Lord has asked me to turn inward and sanctify myself for Him—God has been gently showing me that we can very subtly pervert this miraculous movement of God into a ministry that misses both the point (serving Jesus) and the target (the lost world). We can very easily veer from the precipitating Person of our passion until we are no longer following Jesus into the world, but instead building a ministry to others as a cloak for making a name for ourselves—even amidst all of our so-called self-sacrificing. It is a fine line, yes, but one that distinguishes between serving our Savior because of His righteousness and serving our self-righteousness in the name of our Savior.

This is not a new danger for Christ’s followers, for it afflicts ancient and modern believers alike. Christ’s own disciples were scolded on more than one occasion for turning their commission from Christ into their own ministry, albeit all for the Kingdom, or so they were intending. After Jesus sent out the seventy-two to go two-by-two in His name throughout the region, Luke writes that they returned “with joy,” thrilled that “even the demons submit” to them (Luke 10:17). Jesus didn’t exactly holy-high-five them and express His prodigious pride in them for “getting it” (a phrase us adoption/orphan advocates use frequently when describing ourselves vs. those who haven’t jumped onboard the orphan bandwagon). Instead, Jesus reminds the seventy-two of Satan’s fall from Heaven (remember that ugly sin of pride?) and told them, “Whoa, slow down that kind of talk. Don’t go around jumping for joy that you’re some mighty Kingdom force. No, just be thankful that you’re Mine. Period…” (Luke 10:20, my translation). In other words, we are to “fix our eyes [only] on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith” (Hebrews 12:2, NIV). Seem simple?

It’s easy to look around and point out the idols of our surrounding Babylon, but it’s a bit trickier (and far less pleasurable) to reflect inward on our own hearts and honestly consider that we might ourselves have turned a gospel of redemption for the orphan into a platform for our own righteousness (and thus an idol). We can fall into the temptation to compare our own passion for justice for the poor with the “little” that others are doing, and suddenly we feel a little more than righteous. Remembering that “our acts of righteousness are filthy rags,” we ought to steer very clear of any such comparisons to others (Isaiah 64:6).

I often hear adoption and orphan advocates talking in terms of those who “get it” and those who don’t. On the surface, I understand, and I’ve been guilty of the same chatter (probably in the last 24 hours, if I’m guessing). But maybe, just maybe, in the midst of us “getting” this orphan thing down right, we’re not actually getting it. Maybe we—those of us who claim collectively to “get it”—are treading dangerously close to missing the point entirely. If we’re not extremely careful, we can pervert the “true religion” of James 1:27 into religious legalism, holding up a religious measuring stick by which we judge others who aren’t in our “camp.” (Does the label Pharisee scare anyone?) Let’s check out this parable together and refresh our collective memory:

To some who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everyone else, Jesus told this parable: “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood by himself and prayed: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.’ But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’ I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.” (Luke 18:9-14, emphasis mine)

 Ouch.

Would not the saddest irony be for believers in the orphan movement today to get “true religion” but become true religious Pharisees in the process? Church, let us be so cautious. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, not on ourselves or on others. Let us not pursue adoption or orphan care because it is the newest, trendiest stamp of righteousness in the Church. Let us not become advocates because so-and-so did and “has such a great story” and we want to be just like them. Or so that we can proudly wave our own banners and get some attention in the Kingdom. We serve but one Master, and “no servant is greater than his master, nor is a messenger greater than the one who sent him” (John 13:16). As Jedd Medefind reminded us at Summit VII, we cannot truly reflect Jesus “if we aren’t hungry for Him and in love with HIM.” We will instead reflect our own selves and our own zeal from a dimly lit bulb, all the while foolishly screaming the self-righteous message “My light is brighter than yours.”

There is one Great Light of the world that we are to reflect. Church, it’s time to check our motives. What is fueling our passion for the orphan? Have we gotten off-target? Have we made an idol of adoption? Has our own passion become our precipitator? Have we begun to serve a cause instead of our Christ? Have we made “true religion” our own “little g” god? Don’t think that it’s not a possibility. Just ask the Pharisees. After all, they thought they “got it.”

If we truly want to impact our world, as I believe those involved in orphan care earnestly desire to purely do, let’s bow at Jesus’ feet and serve Him alone. In turn, the orphan gets rescued, the lost found, the imprisoned set free, and the abused redeemed, and Jesus alone will get the glory. Isn’t that what this is all about, anyway?

Praise Him. The Capital G God. Hallelujah forever.

Orphan Summit VII, Louisville, KY, May 12-13

This weekend I will be attending Christian Alliance for Orphans' Summit VII conference in Louisville, KY. I will be guest blogging during the event, so check back in over the week and see what God is doing in His people on behalf of the orphan!

And, if you're going to be there in person, be sure to look for me! I'd love to meet you in person. I'll be the crazy lady with a nose ring and a 9-month-old baby. (I'll also have my mom with me! YAY for that!) In fact, Thursday evening there is a blogger meet-up during dinner. Grab your dinner and come and join us!

See you soon!

Choosing Sasha Faith!!!

Though we are grieving the loss of Amara for our family, we have decided to move forward to adopt Sasha Faith, a precious HIV+ 7-year-old in Eastern Europe. Sasha caught our attention early on, before we initially chose Amara, so we are thrilled that this sweet one will be coming home in a few months, God willing!

Please pray with us as we move forward, as we remember Amara, and as we act on behalf of Sasha and her future in our family!

God is good, friends. He loves the orphan. He loves Amara. He loves Sasha. And He loves His people.

Sasha means "defender and warrior." Appropriate, don't you think?

Sweet Sasha Faith,  
We can't wait to know you. We will fight to the finish for you, and we love you already.
Love, Your Family...All 12 of us!

 "Do not be afraid, for I am with you;
   I will bring your children from the east
   and gather you from the west.
I will say to the north, ‘Give them up!’
   and to the south, ‘Do not hold them back.’
Bring my sons from afar
   and my daughters from the ends of the earth—
everyone who is called by my name,
   whom I created for my glory,
   whom I formed and made.” 

-Isaiah 43:5-7

UPDATE 9/2011: Since our house still has not sold, we have had to release "Sasha" back to the agency. So, we are officially no longer in the process to adopt. Our hearts are extremely sad, but we are trusting God. We are eager to add more children to our family, to share our love with those kids who so desperately need to know love, but we have no choice now but to wait for God to act. Until then...we will press forward in faith!!!