Confessions of a Nobody #2- THE AMERICAN CHURCH

I heard a story once about a man who was walking along the shore of the ocean. He came across an entire beach, filled with starfish, who had been washed up.

I think about that story all the time, when I am overwhelmed to the point of tears, in this Nobody life. Only in my mind’s eye, it looks a little different:

I see Bill and me, hand in hand, walking along the beach. We come across these little starfish, washed up on the shore and IMMEDIATELY start picking them up and chucking them in the ocean. Only with every wave that hits the shore, more starfish get washed up. So we look at each other, take off our jackets, and start to scoop as many as we can in our jackets to get more than one back into the ocean. We are frantic and overwhelmed. I stop for a second to wipe the sweat from my brow and get a glimpse of what is behind me, on the beach.  

There was a resort, with lots of bling and glamor. Cabanas lined up near the building. Servers bringing drinks and food to the people lying in the sun, with their Coach Sunglasses and Nordstrom swimsuits. They each had recliners and umbrellas to shade them if the sun got to hot. They were all reading a book, although I could not make out what book it was. The wood plank path led to the resort so no one would burn their feet on the hot sun. Music was playing and people raised their hands up to the heavens.

Splash! A wave hit my feet and I came back to the task at hand. Bill yelled, “Did you see that up there?” “Yes!” I yelled back, and kept scooping up the Starfish in my jacket to throw as many into the ocean as I could. The sun set and left a majestic glow on the water. Diamonds danced on the surface as the waters began to calm. We were exhausted, but saw that NOW was the time, when we could get more Starfish into the ocean, because the calm waters were no longer throwing Starfish onto the shore.

My muscles aches and I was hungry. I wanted to run to the resort and ask for some water, but the urgency of getting the Starfish into the water was greater than my thirst. So we kept going, Bill and I. A man in uniform started walking up to us, as the Starfish were being hurled into the air, reflecting the moonlight and splashing into the safety zone of the ocean.

“You can’t be here,” he said sternly, “the resort is closed.”

Bill stopped, walked up to the man, looked at the resort, looked at the shoreline and said, “The resort does not own the shoreline, no one does. We can be here as long as we want.”

“Well that may be, but you our making our guests feel uncomfortable.” He replied.

“Uncomfortable?” I asked. “Are you kidding me, they are in total comfort, having everything handed to them on a silver platter. What could we possibly be doing to make them feel uncomfortable?”

“Well,” he said sheepishly, “You are working and helping those Starfish and it is making them feel, well, guilty, I guess, because they are trying to relax and enjoy themselves.”

“But these little ones are dying!” Bill said heartbroken.

“Well that is not our problem,” the man in uniform said irritated at our resolve.

“And their discomfort is not our problem either,” Bill said and picked up a Starfish and threw it into the water.

I laughed hysterically, and gathered more Starfish into my jacket and threw them into the water. Adrenaline filled our beings and food and water were no longer a necessity. The man in uniform threatened to have us removed and hurled insults at us for wanting to help these little Starfish. The more he said, the more resolve overwhelmed us. All night we worked, knowing soon the sun would rise and so would the waves that hurl the Starfish onto the shore.

The sun began to rise and I could see that we had made an evident dent in those Starfish stranded on the beach. A smile crept onto my face and my body ached with great tension. In the background I could hear faint voices begin to rise into the air. I turned to see the resort and people filing out of their rooms and onto the beach. One by one they positioned their Egyptian cotton towels on the lounges, and sat down to enjoy the view, that we were obstructing. Again they began to read the same book and servers came around and brought them food and drink while they sat there, fat and lazy.  Bill walked over to me and said, “Can you believe these people? They see that all these Starfish are about to die, they see us, by ourselves, trying to help, but they do nothing!”

“Oh, they do something,” I said. “They grumble and complain that we are making them feel uncomfortable. They are irritated that we are obstructing their view of the ocean. They indulge in all the comforts and won’t even lift a finger to help, but expect others to serve them.”

Before the last word came out of my mouth, music began to play, and just like the day before, all the people started to raise their hands to the heavens. Bill and I looked at each other and started laughing, “What the hell is this place?” Bill scanned the resort to try to make out the name. There, on the top of the resort in sparkly letters spelled out the name:

My heart sank, but… but… they are Christians… was my thought. I realized that the book they were all reading was the Bible, and the music was Praise and Worship. The servers were the pastors, feeding them on a silver platter and the resort was the building, American Christians call the “The Church.” The expensive, lavished lifestyle was neatly packaged in what “The American Church” calls Christianity. Not wanting to move outside of their comfort zone, frustrated with people who ask them to, and uncomfortable with people who do what the Bible says, right in front of them. Putting their time and money into a resort (the building) and expecting the paid parishioners to feed them on a platter, because that is their job, right?

Bill and I looked at the fat and lazy “American Church” and said, “IF ONLY!” If only they would help. If only they would get up and get their hands dirty. If only they would feel uncomfortable for Jesus. If only they would partake in the sufferings of Christ, so that just ONE life could be saved from eternal damnation. IF ONLY. If only the pastors would stop building their own kingdoms on earth and magnify God’s kingdom instead. If only the church would rise up and be who God created them to be in Romans 12, walking in their redemptive gifts and practice their spiritual gifts in 1 Corinthians 12. IF ONLY. If only we had the proper tools to scoop up all these Starfish. If only we had more people to help us. If only we had some support and encouragement. IF ONLY.

The waves started breaking on the shore and more Starfish began to be coughed up by the sea. We gave each other a high five, took a deep breath, and took the simple tools we had: a jacket, a willing heart, and our love for Jesus; and started at it again. IF ONLY half of these Starfish make it back into the safe zone of the ocean… that is still half that will live.

So we got to work, only this time there was a joy in our exhaustion, splashing in the water and a spring in our step. We do not have the title or fancy clothes or servants like those on the beach, we are just NOBODY’s trying to make a difference in the lives of other NOBODY’S, so that they will be will see themselves as a SOMEBODY.

Seeing In Color

In a world torn by racial tension and dissension, I stop to embrace the reality of the why. I was recently reprimanded for engaging a culture that was not my own and called a racist. It created a deep wound that I barely escaped from. I sought the counsel of a dear friend, who identifies herself as "black",to try to understand why I would be accused of such a violent offense.

I was raised in a multicultural community, where color of skin had no bearing on anything. The only thing that mattered to this community was our love for one another. I was engulfed in a Utopian way of life that was almost fictional, and had no comprehension that such a thing as racism existed. I was a part of a community that became my family, and is still my family today. Many different cultural and ethnic backgrounds, religious and non-religious families coming together to create this beautiful mosaic of life that created a solid foundation of truth, many fail to stand on. I saw the world in color, in a time when people still saw the world in BLACK AND WHITE.

In my most vulnerable time of brokenness, I was assaulted even more. I was told that I was IGNORANT because I did not see the world in BLACK AND WHITE. That we live in a yang and yang world and to see the world any other way is why the racial tension continues. I was shocked by the response. I thought that my dear friend saw the world in color as well, but after an hour of conversation, I realized that I was minority in how I viewed the world.

The definition of racism has nothing to do with color. In fact, the Jews, have suffered from racism for thousands of years. It had to do with their culture, belief, way of life and heritage and nothing to do with color.

The definition of racism is this:

-the belief that all members of each race possess characteristics or abilities specific to that race, especially so as to distinguish it as inferior or superior to another race or races.

True, in the United States, racism has been deemed as a black and white issue. True, that many African American people have suffered oppression, death, false accusation, discrimination and hatred. True, racism is real.

I am not ignorant to the reality of BLACK AND WHITE racism. In fact, it is one of my life long mission to see healing and reconciliation in the area of so much hate. However, the way I fight racism is not by perpetuating segregation. Continuing to separate people based on the color of skin, continuing to put people in categories and identifying people as BLACK AND WHITE, is complete and total racism. There can be no healing in separation. The reality of healing starts by acknowledging that this world is not separated in BLACK AND WHITE. Rather this world is in color.

It is like telling someone, who has been watching television in high definition, Technicolor, flat screen, 3D blue ray… that they are IGNORANT for watching television that way and should watch television from the 1950, BLACK AND WHITE, tube televisions. It just doesn’t make any sense. Why would I, who sees the world in color, want to regress and see the world in BLACK AND WHITE?

The fundamental truth lies in LOVE. God created each and every person with unique characteristics, spiritually, emotionally and physically. Each characteristic was hand designed by our God, for the purpose of glorifying Him and telling others about Jesus. To separate people out in color is demeaning the truth of God. To say that the world is driven by BLACK AND WHITE, is bondage. God does not judge a man by the color of their skin, and neither should we…

Martin Luther King Jr. had a dream, a vision to see a world where people walked and lived together in harmony, from ethnic and cultural backgrounds, to religious backgrounds, to skin color differences. His vision was inspired by the Holy Spirit and preached to a nation in racial turmoil. Today, 53 years later, our nation is still fixated on color and not character.

Today, as we celebrate a man, who suffered the highest price of assassination, to usher a nation into an era, where WE SEE IN COLOR… let’s not dishonor him by being stuck in the 1950’s where we still see in black and white. Let us be a people who honors God by seeing people the way God see’s people- which is by looking at their heart. Our flesh, and the color of our flesh will fade away, when we die. What remains is our spirit, our soul- that which makes up our character and unique individual person.

I experienced racism, when I was told that I do not have a right to celebrate a culture different than my own. That I do not have the right to understand or learn or be a part of a culture… just because I am WHITE. It devastated me. I didn’t know why at first, but it was because I experienced racism. The funny thing is, I am half Mexican. I took a piece of white printer paper and put it next to my arm… I am not white. My skin is not white, it is more of a caramel color. I put a black piece of paper next to one of the youth in our Bible Study, who has very dark skin… still his skin is not black, it was more of a dark chocolate color with warm hues of red. Trying to categorize people in black and white is IGNORANT. People are not only more than the color of their skin…the diversity and variation of color in people’s skin is so vast, that black and white should only EVER be used as the bookends of the variety of color that is in the 7 billion people that are on this earth.

I do not believe that being COLOR BLIND is beneficial. It strips the beauty of what God created in each of us. Rather I believe that God intended us to delight in the cornucopia of his creation, celebrating the differences of food, music, fashion, architecture, art, language, and culture. SEEING IN COLOR means you really do celebrate DIVERSITY and live every day in the beauty of it.  Diversity helps us to embrace someone different to us, to delight in their culture and to share a common attribute that binds us together as human beings…. LOVE.  

Our 2015 Grand Adventure

This year has been a GRAND ADVENTURE. A life that happens when you surrender to Jesus.

We hit 2015 running, having just moved into a new house. We had to leave our beloved Fruit house of 4 years, because the landlords wanted to sell. It was bitter sweet… on one hand, we were excited about the new adventure; on the other hand, we did not want to say goodbye to our home.

January started with what became our last trip to the Beukers Family Beach house of 60 years, for Noah’s 16^th Birthday. We made many memories that will last many generations. Back in Fresno, Carah acted in her first full length musical, “Legally Blonde” with her longtime friend Ethan Rij. Noah was finishing up his soccer season and Carah was in the middle of her club volleyball season and finishing up her school basketball season.

 

Our lives took an incredible turn when we met 3 other local missionaries. One missionary takes inner-city kids on tours to see colleges and we were given an incredible opportunity to take our kids and go to UC Berkeley. Another missionary family, lived in the heart of one of the most impoverished and violent parts of Fresno and we were grafted into their family and received great missionary training through Kairos and Perspectives. The last missionary, has really embraced and mentored us. He runs the Fresno School of Missions and fully empowers us to do God’s will. These experiences changed our perspective of ourselves and how we see the world.

In February, we started a youth outreach open gym night in Easton and close to 50 students would show up on Friday nights. We were on our 3^rd year of running RAW’s Real Talk Bible Study and many young men were coming to know Jesus. By the end of the month, one of those young men, Bubba, came to live with us. Another adventure that grew our family to look more like Jesus. We learned how to love in a situation that was hard and unfamiliar. We understood what AGAPE love means in a way we never did before.



By March, our family was in full swing with sports and school and church. Elijah was engulfed in his last college semester as a freshman. Noah was running track and playing baseball. Carah was in the midst of her Model and Talent training.. Bill finished coaching soccer and started coaching track at the Middle School Carah attends. We celebrated Easter with new friends, our godsons, some of our Bible Study kids and neighbor. A picture of the reason why we celebrate the resurrection of Jesus Christ. 

 

By the time April hit, we had another unexpected guest come to live with us, Rob. Rob was one of the first young men to attend our Bible Study 3 years ago. He had some issues with his family and was kicked out of his house. We also had a short term guest, who was displaced when his family lost their home. So our family of 5 was now a family of 8. It was never quiet in my house. LOL. Our home became a safe haven for many and often we would have up to 10 people at our table for dinner. Many times, Bill and I would sit back and thank God for opportunity to create a lasting legacy in the lives of our children and others.

In May, Bubba went back home to live with his mom and our short term guest moved to his new house. Noah was on his way to Valley in track and Carah finished up her softball season. Elijah finished his first year in college and started training with the football coaches at Reedley College for the following year. Both Elijah and Noah went to prom with friends from Central High and had a blast!

June was busy. Noah ran in the Valley Championship, the only student from his high school, and got 11^th place. (He was running with a sprained ACL, so we were all pleased with the outcome). Carah graduated from 8^th grade and was valedictorian and won an award for highest achieving in math. Rob also graduated from high school and was blessed by many people with gifts, including senior portraits. We celebrated longtime friend Ryan Rij’s graduation and (another actress in the making) Gracie Morrow’s too. We headed to the Bay Area, were we were able to go to Bill’s lifelong friend, Kevin Baker’s wedding; after a weekend at Morrow Bay for a football tourney. We got to spend time with Bill’s family and godparents, and then headed up to Lake Tahoe for a family vacation. We had Elijah, Rob, Noah, Carah and Ethan. We stayed in a house with Bill’s sister and partner Rebecca and got the amazing privilege of meeting their soon to be adopted daughter Minnie. Another family reunion in Sacramento, and we were blessed to see Bill’s moms side of the family and back home to Fresno. Once back we had the privilege of baptizing 4 young men, who made a commitment to follow Jesus Christ.

 

July hosted lots of fun with 4^th of July memories, a trip to see Bon Qui Qui with Ninon and Ethan (a birthday gift), and Carah going to summer camp for the first time. Elijah turned 19, Bill turned 44 and I passed the 40 mark, at 41. Noah and Elijah were in full blown training for football and Rob was job hunting.

August was incredible. Carah attended her LA Agents Showcase and was an extra in the movie “Victory by Submission.” Our well went dry and we were without water for almost a month. School started with Carah starting high school; Noah a junior; Elijah a sophomore in college; and Rob decided to take a semester off to work. Carah started cheerleading, Noah and Elijah started football; and Bill and I started working with Cen Cal Mentoring, mentoring at risk youth at a continuation school. We were given an amazing opportunity to go to Haiti/Congo on a mission’s trip with our RAW group and will start fundraising in 2016.

September hosted football games every Friday and Saturday; Carah auditioning for movies, commercials and modeling, See You at the Pole, 2 weddings and Rob getting a job at the SPCA. Car troubles, both cars died on us… being blessed by a new car. The big event was Carah getting her braces off after 4 years!

 

 October was full-fledged. Bill was freshman head football coach, working for a landscaping company, Cen Cal Mentoring, our RAW ministry and doing strength and conditioning. Fresno Fair was a big part of our life this year, as our neighbor, who is FFA President had Carah and Noah working hard. Carah received an opportunity to win a car with her 4.0 status and Rob got his license. Noah went to the Sadie Hawkins Dance with our neighbor. Bill and Noah took some of our Real Talk Bible Study Boys to see the premiere of Woodlawn and meet the actors. We had to say goodbye to Rob, who decided to move to Kentucky to live with his brother.

 

 November was Carah’s 14^th birthday. WE saw some crazy phenomenon in the sky… some said rocket, others said meteor, others said alien… we just saw WOW!!! Carah and I volunteered at Winter Jam and got to meet some of the artists. We were startled by the news that Rob was attacked and almost died. He had a stab wound to his head, along with a fractured skull, a blood clot on his brain and wounds to his face. Bill’s sister gave up her air miles to get him home, where he would be safe and could heal. The startling news continued when I received a phone call that one of our close homeschool family friend’s 11 year old son had died. He was really close to Noah and the new shook us to the core. We celebrated Koltyn’s life and were thankful we were blessed to know him. We stayed home for Thanksgiving, since Noah’s football team made the playoffs. We got to go to the Bay Area and partake in the annual Thanksgiving weekend Stanford game with grandma and papa. We had only one car, as Elijah’s car broke down and we were given a car, which was such a gift for not only our family, but our ministry. I participated in the Old Town Clovis Flea Market for the second year in a row with Joanne Castillo (one of my adopted moms) and my good friend Rachel Morrow.

                                  

December was no different than the rest of the year… busy and adventurous. I was given a unique opportunity to help my friend decorate her house for the Annual Children’s Hospital Home tour. I got to go on the Home Tour with my surrogate mom, Joanne Castillo, and made awesome memories. Noah’s football team made it to the Valley Championship Game and we were so excited! After a very close game, we lost in the last 30 seconds of the game, when a ball was dropped on the 10 yard line, which would have won the game. It was very emotional, but we were so proud of all the young men for their character. Carah started on JV basketball. Rob was healing well and got a job at Big Potato Market, the local grocery store in our little country town. Noah and Carah went to Formal with their good friends, Ethan, Callie and Kameron. Noah got blessed and went to the Raider/Kansas City game with his good friend Marissa. Noah was awarded MVP, 1^st Team running back, 1^st Team lineman and Defensive Player of the Year. We all awaited the premiere of Star Wars, Episode 7, The Force Awakens. Our family is full on Star Wars geeks. We had a surprise Star Wars party for Carah and had a movie marathon to prepare us for #7. Elijah waited in line for 30 hours and was on the new about 4 times. We had a blast and the premiere was so exciting!!!

 

Now, as we close this amazing year of hope, renewal and adventure, our sights are set on the glorious journey that awaits us. We are so very THANKFUL for all the people who invested in our ministry with their time, gifts, and monthly support. One of our biggest supporters are Bill’s parents who make so much of this possible. They have given so much, so that we can, in turn, change people’s lives.

 If you would like to be part of this journey, there are many ways you can help:

1. We are taking a group of 20 students on a mission trip and will be doing fundraisers throughout the year. Please keep your eyes open for ways to support these young people to experience a life changing opportunity to serve others.
2.    You can also volunteer on Friday nights, by just coming and playing basketball, dodgeball, board games or any other ideas you may have to give the youth a safe place to go on Friday nights.
3. You can also volunteer on Wednesday nights by providing dinner, speaking to our youth, leading worship, or just come to build relationships and mentor.
4.  We also need help with transportation, getting students to and from events. We are saving for a 9 passenger van. If you would like to donate towards the purchase of the van, please let us know.

Thank you so much for partnering with us in life, prayer, support and ministry

The Beukers Family

Reflecting

The moon shines brightly over our world tonight. The silence deafens my ears. My skin begins to tighten as my body convulses in deep shivers and fog billows in the air from the shallow breathing escaping my chest. I don’t breath deep for fear the deep cold will ache my lungs. I pull the blanket tighter around my body and gaze at the moon incessantly. Clouds are dancing in the moonlight and comforting my soul. I am filled to the brim with contentment, but I am restless.

The clouds blur and I am in the memories of my mind. They transport me to that place that once existed, but is no more. I am 5 years old. I can see and smell the season. Sharp pine fills my nostrils and the cinnamon pinecones soothe the scents. There are gifts, wrapped in festive paper, reflecting the lights of the tree. The fire is crackling and raging fiercely, warming my little childhood home.

Mom and dad slowly make their way to the living room. Mom is huge, her stomach is protruding baby number 3 and is ready to have the baby any day now. I hope not today. I want to open gifts. My little brother waddles into the living room, carrying his blankie. The smell of coffee rises and dad brings a cup for each of them. He nods to show approval that we can open our gifts. I rush in trying to find my name and my brother’s name, and start making piles of wonder.

I cannot remember what I got that Christmas. I don’t recall what we did after or what we had for breakfast. I just remember the joy. The love we all shared as a family. The anticipation of a new sibling and the contentment that filled our home, if only for a moment. Three days later, mom had another child, a girl. I now had a sister and was delighted. I thought that a new sister would certainly ease the tension between my mom and dad, that they would find joy in her sweetness.

It did, for a short while, but it was not enough to ease the pain my parents were experiencing, it was not enough to hold our little family together. Six months after that Christmas, my dad left and my parents divorced. My sister never experienced a Christmas with her entire family. Her first Christmas was a broken one, with parents in two different homes. My brother was too young to remember Christmas as a family, and can only see the shadows that are left on photo paper.

I can hear the Christmas music playing in the background, and hold the happy memory tight in my hand. It is a gift, a treasure that I hold dear. My body starts to shiver. The clouds are moving rapidly and the moon’s glow covers my face. I breathe hard and see the white billow from my lips. My body is heavy from remembering. My mind is tired. I walk towards my front door and turn the knob to go inside. The glow of lights is bright in my little country house. The fragrance of Christmas is strong. I glance at all the nativity scenes around my house that were my mom’s. I see the Christmas books that my dad bought for me every year.

A smile creeps onto my face. I am here, that moment when you realize that you are the parent who makes the memories for your children. I am here, that moment when you realize you won’t have your children at home much longer, as they go off to college and get married. I am here, that moment when you are thankful for all you have in front of you.

The pain of brokenness from my childhood is but a distant memory, one that motivated me to establish a whole and healthy childhood for my own children. It was my resolve, my challenge, my hope. Together, my husband and I established a family that cherishes one another and others. It was hard, but well worth the work.

This year, my children each bought gifts for each other and us. It was the first time they had ever done that. It was a treat. To see each of them, delighted to share their love for each other by giving a gift. We had an extra son with us this year, as well. Adopted into our family, almost a year ago, when he had no place to go. He too, celebrated by giving each person a gift. The love and generosity that filled the atmosphere was enough for me this Christmas. It was the best gift of all.

At the end of the day, I peek out at the moon, the stars glowing brightly, the clouds drifting slowly. I take it in, the memory of today, Christmas 2015, and treasure it. I hold it close to my heart. Thankful for the time we have to celebrate our Savior, thankful for the gifts he gives to us.