Archive for the Uncategorized
Thursday, October 6th, 2011
Do you like me?
FaceBook knows how to press the emotion button, don’t they? Someone asks me, “Will you be my friend?” And I have only 2 choices: Yes or ignore (=No, I won’t be your friend). How can I do that to so many people that I do like?
Here’s what I wrote in my profile info, to try to soften the turndown (or at least to ease my conscience):
Dear real-life friends, I wish I could be FB friends with all of you, but I’m too finite. I’m using FB mainly to connect with my huge, widely spread-out family. Please know I’m sad every time I press “ignore.”
Well maybe here’s a way to acknowledge the reality of my finiteness and to draw the friendship circle larger — the Noel Piper FB page.
Now it’s your turn to decide: Do you like me? No, really, if you choose not to press Like, I won’t take it personally.
Wednesday, October 5th, 2011
How can they teach without a teacher?
I was moved by a video we saw last night at the FIEL Conference for Pastors and Church Leaders. We’re just about to head out the door, so I hope you’ll go to Tell Me When to Pack to see what I wrote about it.
Tuesday, October 4th, 2011
But I’m the reserved one!
I just saw this tweet, and assumed they were talking about the vigorous (shall we say?) speaker in the family: “You wouldn’t believe this picture of Piper speaking. dsr.gd/pY0D3n“
Tuesday, October 4th, 2011
On the road again
We just flew into Sao Paolo this morning, and drove on to Aguas de Lindoia, where Johnny will be one of the speakers at the FIEL Conference.
Come on over to Tell Me When to Pack to read about our time here and to have some chances to win a Mystery Gift from Brazil.
Monday, October 3rd, 2011
Bloodlines: Race, Cross, and the Christian
Not every adoption is transracial, but many are.
If you had known us when we were teenagers, as our Talitha is now, you would never has expected that, through adoption, we would become a multi-racial family.
My husband’s book–Bloodlines: Race, Cross, and the Christian — flows out of our experiences and is a measure of 
God’s grace in bringing us far from those early days of racism.
In the following video he tells his story of that grace–grace that adopts us, changes us, and opens our hearts to adoption.
Sunday, August 21st, 2011
My new blog takes wing
Today is the inauguration of my new blog, Tell Me When to Pack. From now on, that’s where you’ll find my travel-related posts. The rest of life will still be here at Noel Piper.
I hope you’ll visit. First up, there’s a chance to win a mystery gift from Down Under.
Thursday, March 24th, 2011
Betraying Jesus with a kiss
One of the facts of getting older is that the children in your life get older too. One of the great pleasures is when your roles are reversed and you find yourself being taught good things by by those grown-up children.
I’ve sent you before to the wisdom of my niece Sunny. She blogs at Daydreams and Dandelions.
I resonated with her comment at my post a couple of days ago. She recommends one book for toddlers for Easter and pans another because it omits entirely the crucifixion. Everything in the Bible is about the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus, but in the past we too have had had Bible story books like the one she mentions–great illustrations, well-told stories, but the main point omitted–a book without a climax.
Sunny wrote:
I heard a Spurgeon quote that reminds me of many children’s Bibles.
“To tell about Jesus without the cross is to betray him with a kiss.”
I thank God for a niece who knows what’s what . . . and who quotes Spurgeon.
Sunday, March 20th, 2011
“Christians in Egypt face old discrimination”
I posted photos and wrote about Mokattam Village in Cairo last year when we visited there. That area of Cairo is the home of the highest concentration of Christians in the country. Mokattam is familiarly known as “the garbage village,” and its primary economy is the collection and recycling of the city’s refuse. But even Christians who work elsewhere choose to live in Mokattam because of the influence of the church in this neighborhood.
Last week, I could see in my mind the streets and churches and people of Mokattam when I read an email and a then heard a news report.
National Public Radio:
In New Egypt, Christians Face Old Discrimination
Headline, Steve Inskeep on National Public Radio.
Email from Egyptian friend who has ministered 28 years in Mukattam:
We need prayer—big time! Already 10 have died, many are seriously injured, and 8 houses and several factories have been burned!
NPR:
The torching of [a] church recently was part of a series of incidents. . . . People from a largely Christian neighborhood staged a demonstration. Muslims confronted them. Soldiers appeared, and someone opened fire.
Email from friend:
Yesterday some of the youth from the Village wanted to show their solidarity with the people of the Coptic church that was burned down last week on the outskirts of Cairo. (Many homes and small shops were also burned down by the Muslims in that village.) So they unwisely went down to the highway below the Village where they had a demonstration . . . .
Suddenly, about 4:00 P.M., large groups of Muslim youths from surrounding areas began to form and attack the Christians. Within hours there were many thousands in the fight, and the attackers had all kinds of weapons, whereas the Village youth mostly had stones. Although the army sent in several tanks, they apparently did nothing until later in the evening, when they are reported by eye witnesses to have shot in the air indiscriminately. . . .
Although over 130 people were injured, most through gun shots and some very seriously, no ambulances or fire engines arrived at the Village until early the next morning. Our 2, rather primitive hospitals up there did there best to treat the wounded and many people are now in the city hospitals. So far, 10 have died, 9 of them young Christians and 1 a Muslim who lives at the Village and was defending his home there.
NPR:
A memorial service was held Thursday for many of the Christian dead. A Coptic priest spoke to a crowd of thousands, including the families of many victims.
“The pains of this life,” he told the families, “are nothing compared to the glorious state we will be in in the afterlife.”
The priest was speaking in a room that symbolizes Egypt’s Christian minority. It was vast -– and it was underground.
It’s a hillside cave that has been turned into a meeting hall, with relief sculptures of saints carved on the walls.
Email from friend:
We need prayer, dear friends—lots of lots of it! We hate to see our beloved country collapsing like this, people going hungry, and Christians possibly becoming scapegoats for all ills. We need the world-wide body of believers to bring these problems to our sovereign, powerful and loving Lord.
Friday, March 18th, 2011
Let’s CRASH
Yesterday I offered a way to combine worship and practical help to Japan. CRASH is the organization your help will be channeled through.
So my eye was caught this morning by a word from Tom and Mary Lou Ellison, missionaries to Japan supported by our church. They affirm the ministry of CRASH and remind us of the need for supplies and prayer.
We visited the CRASH volunteer office today and it was great to see a whole room full of people here working to prepare for teams coming in from the States and elsewhere who will be engaged in the disaster area. Tomorrow will be one week since the initial earthquake and tsunami and supplies on site are still very low. Today seems to have been a better day, though, with an increase of help flowing to the area. The radiation issue however is complicating the efforts.
It’s been a week. Other events are top news now. But for those who live in Japan?
photo from Reuters
Thursday, February 17th, 2011
Black History Month: Will the baby be black?
Today’s guest post is by Bonnie Klein–wife, mother, grandmother, and adoption advocate with Hope Takes Root.
“To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose….” Ecclesiastes 3:1
In three months, another school year comes to an end. This year is different. After twenty-eight years of educating at home, the home school season is finished. I have been heard to laugh and say, “I am retiring with only eternal benefits!” But this is not true. Our great God, the ultimate designer, used this season not only to educate our children, but to educate me.
While other schools closed in recognition of Dr. King’s birthday, we would enjoy studying his life. We would have our own “Black History Day.” Repeating this year after year educated us and changed the way we thought.
The 1960s community I was raised in prided itself on being an “all-white” city. This fact was in a brochure promoting the city! My father feared for our safety as the Watts riots were less than an hour away, and I remember sleeping in the den away from the front of the house.
My exposure to other races was indeed limited. Studying Dr. King helped to unravel hidden prejudices. These were things I didn’t even know existed. Somehow this is mysteriously connected to the incredible fact that I am now privileged to be “Grammie” to a beautiful, spunky, black granddaughter.
I already understood God’s miracle of adoption. Our youngest daughter came in 1999 from Romania. Our first grandchild joined us in 2007 from South Korea. We learned something incredibly simple: Exposure to those different from us promotes racial acceptance. For example, I hadn’t thought I was prejudiced towards Koreans, but in hindsight I see I was hesitant to engage with them. After experiencing the joy of our grandson, I found myself smiling, feeling affection and interest when coming into contact with Koreans. This was a surprising benefit.
When our son and and his wife announced that they were adopting from Ethiopia, I thought, “Ethiopia? Does that mean the baby will be black?” I felt fear. People are comfortable with the familiar, what they see in the mirror, what they are exposed to.
Though I live far away from my childhood town, I still live in a predominately white area. However, through our precious granddaughter, I see the same surprising benefit: through her presence, our congregation and community are learning racial acceptance. Our God is indeed an educator!
I am thankful for Dr. King. He had a dream. His life accomplished much. I had a dream when I started out on this education venture. God had a bigger purpose. I am eternally grateful.
Wednesday, February 16th, 2011
Black History Month: Sold for a sack of flour
Kristie Anyabwile, is a mother, blogger, and pastor’s wife in Grand Cayman.
Her post today is a reminder that everyone has a story. I never met her grandfather, but I expect that he probably looked like an ordinary man who worked hard to support his family. That’s what he was. But that’s not all that he was.
Her story begins:
In July of 1991, an elderly white couple drove their pickup truck into my grandparent’s driveway. The
old woman sat in the driver’s seat, trying to console her distraught husband. As my grandmother pushed her walker toward the vehicle, the old man, through uncontrollable tears, cried, “My brother’s dead! My brother’s dead.” (read the rest)
Tuesday, February 8th, 2011
Black History Month: Guest Post
Today’s guest post is by Lacey Wilcox—wife, blogger, and mother of Selah. She and husband Kade live in the Texas Panhandle and manage Panfork Baptist Camp.
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The first year I was teaching, February represented a few things: Groundhog Day, Valentine’s Day, Presidents’ Day, and Black History Month—all things I was required to teach my students.
Unfortunately, Black History Month was just something I checked off my list: “Science, check;” “Addition, check;” “Black History Month, check.”
But after only a few lessons, I realized how this celebration affected my African-American students. They loved school, but this? This was for them. So I began teaching for them, to them. “This is a huge part of their story,” I thought, “I really need to focus on them.”
Then I was struck with the realization: this wasn’t just about them. This was the story of my entire class, a part of all our history. It mattered that I teach it to all my students. And so, Black History Month became a celebration for all of us, of life, hope, and triumph.
I am no longer in the classroom. I traded in my gradebook for a burp rag last year. I am still a teacher, but now my only student is my sweet baby girl. As I think about her future, and the things we have to learn together, I know that an understanding of this month will be one of them.
Now, in writing this, I have been struck with an even greater depth of Black History Month. It’s not just a celebration for one people. Even more, it is a call for absolute worship of the Father. Only He is capable of transforming hearts from hatred and cruelty to acceptance and love. Only He can bring about a change in mindset and lifestyle. Only He allows us the grace to live in a world that is filled with people who are uniquely and perfectly designed.
I regret that I never fully grasped the depths of that lesson to teach my students. I hope it might be one the Lord teaches them as they grow older. But the prayer of my heart is that it might be a lesson I teach deeply and passionately for my baby girl every single day, not just the month of February.
(You are invited to submit a true story to be considered as a guest post during African-American History month. Details.)
