About Karen Kallberg

Karen helped found the VOICE conference back in 1999 and has served on staff ever since, her primary role now being conference advisor and internship instructor. She and her husband Luke live in Saint Louis with their three children. When she's not brainstorming ways to improve the conference, she enjoys exploring the city, trying local restaurants, singing with her family, reading books by Tim Keller, and spending quality time with family and friends.

“What will people think?”

By Hamazasp (Own work) [CC BY-SA 4.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

There is a little question in my heart that tries to hold me captive:

“What will people think?”

It started when I was young. Growing up as “Stephen Chen’s daughter” meant behaving well, dressing appropriately, helping out at church, and generally living a commendable sort of life. My parents never spelled it out that way. Somehow between how I was corrected and praised by my parents and other adults, I concluded that the Christian life is a fishbowl life: people are always watching, so be careful what you do.

This mentality worked for a little while. It taught me to weigh my decisions. It helped me to be a little more cautious. It taught me to be sensitive to others’ feelings. The problem is that people pleasing became a way of life. I decided what to wear based on the people I would see. I chose my words based on what people might want to hear. When I needed to make difficult decisions, the loudest voices in my head were the expectations of the ones I love. Worst of all, I measured my worth by how well others thought of me.

One day, I came across this verse in the book of Galatians: “For am I now seeking the approval of man, or of God? Or am I trying to please man? If I were still trying to please man, I would not be a servant of Christ” (Galatians 1:10).

Even now, my mind can’t fully grasp the enormity of my problem. When I get frustrated, when I am embarrassed, when I feel disappointed, when I’m stressed, I am beginning to realize that it’s often because I crave the praise of other human beings, not the approval of my Savior.

Do you worry about what others think of you? Remember this: Christ died for us while we were still sinners (Romans 5:8)! Our worth lies not in how loud the applause may be or how well we do in school or how many likes we get on Facebook or how big our paycheck is. Our value has nothing to do with us but everything to do with the One who has chosen to love us and redeem us at infinite cost to Himself.

And that is why His is the only approval that really matters.

What God’s Will Isn’t

Photo Credit: www.flickr.com/photos/archetypefotografie/

Recently there are so many decisions I have to make. I’m seeking for God’s guidance on my service at church and the future plan after I graduate college next year. I really want to know what God wants me to do also His plan for me. How do you pray and what do you do when you are seeking God’s guidance and hoping to get clear signs? —a former VOICE student

This is an excellent question, namely because you’re crossing from making your own decisions to wanting to know what God wants for your life. If this is where you are, congratulations on making a very big first step. The subject of God’s will is incredibly broad, so I will only tackle a tiny aspect here…

God’s will is not like GPS. He does not list out all of the steps to our final destination. He does not (usually) give us step-by-step instructions on how to get there (“Go to this school.” “Date this person.” “Accept this job offer.”). He does not warn us about construction or traffic jams ahead. If this is what you’re looking for in God’s will, you’re not looking for the right thing. Seeking God’s will is actually more like knocking on doors. You may have absolutely no idea who or what lies on the other side. Or you may think you know and then find out it’s not at all what you thought. Whatever the case may be, your only responsibility is to knock and then enter when a door opens.

God’s will is not a safeguard against suffering. I once thought that if I just followed Jesus carefully, my life would (only) be blessed (read: safe, secure, and successful). If something went wrong, I must have screwed up somewhere along the way. I have since learned that while I do feel blessed, that does not mean that everything always goes well. In fact, I often feel more insecure following God, because He’s pinpointing all my false securities and tearing them down. That is exactly why He is my Savior—He is destroying all the things I trust in that can’t save me.

God’s will is not about your life. It’s important to seek God’s will for the big (and little) decisions in your life—but keep in mind that this isn’t about your life. It’s about the story He’s writing for the world. And because it’s His story, He cares infinitely more than you do about your part in it.

And lastly, God’s will is more about the journey than about the destination. Of course, God cares about whom we marry and what we do with our lives, but this whole issue of seeking His will is actually about learning to trust Him one step at a time. It’s about letting Him expose our hidden fears by taking us places we don’t want to go. It’s about resting in Him when our pressures are too great for us to handle. It’s about learning who this God is that we (thought we) decided to follow. Someday, we will arrive at the Final Destination and see Him face to face, but for now, living life is about knowing Him, and that is what following Christ is all about.

“And this is eternal life, that they know you the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent.” (John 17:3)

life after VOICE

So a common question that my VOICE friends have asked since this summer’s conference is “What’s your life like now?”

Good question. Mostly, I am learning what it looks like to be a stay-at-home mom—with no other competing priorities. “That is the most rewarding work—you won’t regret it,” others tell me. And I know that.

But at the same time, VOICE was my first “baby.” I didn’t just work on it—I dreamt about what it could become. Now that I’ve stepped down, there’s a big empty hole in my heart, like part of me has died. Most days I’m too busy doing the next thing to notice, but when I try to articulate how I feel, the tears come.

v2006-067

Back before I had little kids underfoot, I joined everyone for the faith challenges at the Northwoods. That first year, I crossed the log without batting an eye. When I faced the log in 2006, however, my knees started shaking uncontrollably. I tried blocking out the well-meaning cheers coming from different sides of the pond (which meant that more and more people were watching). I inhaled deeply and coached myself with the words I’d used to coach dozens of others—”Don’t think about falling. Focus on the opposite end of the log.” I didn’t fall, but I couldn’t walk—so I ended up scooching awkwardly on my bottom.

Leaving VOICE has felt a little like that. Realizing that God was calling me out of VOICE was like taking that first step onto the log. Following Him out of VOICE—saying good-bye to something I loved so dearly, redefining my identity apart from it, and learning to live ordinary life for Him—has been hard.

But friends, this I know—Jesus gave up everything to make me His, and He deserves nothing less from me. I may no longer be the VOICE Conference Coordinator or the V2 instructor, but I am a child of God, and that will never change! Whether you are running, walking, or scooching in your Christian life, remember—we are not defined by what we do but by what He has done for us.

“For the love of Christ controls us, because we have concluded this: that one has died for all, therefore all have died; and he died for all, that those who live might no longer live for themselves but for him who for their sake died and was raised.” (2 Corinthians 5:14-15 ESV)

The Day I Lost My iPhone

“Although my memory’s fading, I remember two things very clearly:
I am a great sinner and Christ is a great Savior.” (John Newton)

I remember looking at my phone at the bottom of the stroller and thinking, “I’d better put that somewhere safe in case it falls out.”

And so I did. I pulled it out and took a picture of Elliot standing proudly on a chair. That’s when I looked over at Isaac who had a “I-think-I-need-to-go-to-the-bathroom” look on his face. After three months of potty training and accidents, the last thing I wanted was to have an accident in the middle of the public library. So I did what any normal “mom-in-the-middle-of-potty-training” would do—I hustled to the bathroom. Three kids, stroller, baby carrier, balance bike, library books, and all.

It was over an hour later before I realized that I had everything but my phone.

So I did what any normal “mom-who-just-lost-her-phone-ID-and-credit-card” would do: PANIC!

For the next few hours, Luke and I cancelled our credit card, called the police, filed a report, and followed my phone’s location on Find My iPhone.

Now a strange thing happened while I was tracking my phone—I found myself channeling all of my pent up anxiety, fears, and anger at that little dot that represented the thief. I could barely tear my eyes away from the website lest I lose my phone’s location and thereby the opportunity to bring that person to justice.

At some point, I began to realize that maybe this wasn’t how Jesus wanted me to respond. Sure what that person did was wrong and my anger was justifiable, but if the police really did help me track my phone (which they didn’t) and brought the thief to me, what then? How does one forgive a nameless, faceless offender?

Two things helped me that day: First, I realized that the thief hadn’t taken anything of lasting value to me. Eventually, that iPhone would become obsolete, and thankfully, we cancelled our card before they had made more than a couple of fraudulent charges. But it is likely that my greater treasures—my children—were in the library at the same time as the thief—and they are still safe. For that, I am extremely grateful.

Secondly, I had to come to grips with the fact that I am also a thief—someone who has robbed God of the honor, glory, time, and money He deserves, and yet He has freely forgiven and pardoned me. If He has forgiven me so great a debt, how can I not forgive someone for taking something as insignificant as a phone?

goodbye, VOICE…

I once had the opportunity to ask well-known missionary and author Elisabeth Elliot one question: “What do I do when I have feelings for someone that won’t go away?”

“The things we love best,” she replied, “are substance for sacrifice.”

That two-minute conversation encapsulates a lesson that God has been teaching me throughout my life.

pitcher illustration

Many of you have heard me share my testimony at VOICE about how God asked me to give Him my love for volleyball, my hopes for education, my security at home in America, my feelings for someone I thought I’d marry… And now, God is asking me to give up one of my greatest passions: VOICE.

I spent the last twelve years developing VOICE into what I thought might be my life work. I made a lot of mistakes, but I got to see God do incredible things in your lives and mine. A couple of weeks ago, I was trying to take care of my sick family and get ready for this conference when God used a book I was reading to ask if I would be willing to give it up for Him.

“What?! Give up VOICE? How? Why?”

I write this with tears in my eyes. I wrestled with this decision as one can only wrestle with an idea that seems completely contrary to reality, but at the same time, it felt so familiar because I had been in this situation before. So I cried. I prayed. And I asked Him to confirm it to me through my personal devotions the next morning, and He did. In the words of a song, “Everything I once held dear, I count it all as loss…”

So what does this mean for VOICE? It means that #VOICE2016 may be our last conference. We hope you’ll pray with us that God will bring the people He wants to grow from the VOICE experience. If you have family or friends who have been thinking about attending “some day,” tell them this is the year they should go. If you’ve been wanting to come for V2, let me know.

Lastly, remember, VOICE is just a tiny chapter in God’s story of the world. We did everything we could to help you understand the Gospel and develop a personal relationship with Jesus. So now it’s your turn.

God is real. Live like it.

what we have

For thirty years, I didn’t have a Valentine. Guys had to ask my father for permission to date me. Dad was strict, few guys tried, so I gave up hope that I would ever have a Valentine.

Valentine's Day mugThen when I was 31, I received a Starbucks mug with hearts all over it. The box read “To Karen” and that was it. Little did I know that was Luke’s first Valentine’s gift to me.

But this post isn’t about what you may not have. This Valentine’s Day, I want to remind us all of what we do have.

Ephesians 5:31 is a verse we commonly hear at weddings: “Therefore a man shall leave his father and mother and hold fast to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh.” Now why would the passage talk about the man leaving his father and mother, when in most cultures, the woman leaves her family? To answer this question, I’d like to share a story.

When Arianna was two, she started having nightmares. One night, she woke up crying that a fox was out to get her. After several nights of her crying for us in the middle of the night, we decided to set up a little bed for her in our room. It was easier.

One night, I woke up hearing her whimpering. I went to comfort her, only to discover that she was still asleep. She was having another nightmare. Even though I was exhausted, my mother’s heart hurt for her. I wanted her to keep sleeping, but I also wanted to wake her up and assure her that everything was going to be ok—that her dream wasn’t real.

That is what Christ did for us. Ephesians 5:32 says, “This mystery is profound, and I am saying that it refers to Christ and the church.” Marriage is a picture of God’s love for us. Jesus left His home in Heaven, His Father who loved Him, and all His glory to enter into our world—to assure us that our nightmare will one day pass away.

That’s not all. When it says that a man will hold fast to his wife, it’s telling us that Jesus came to pursue people who not only didn’t love Him in return but instead sought after other gods. We love romantic love, because it’s the feeling of being completely known and accepted by another person—but Jesus came to love people who ultimately rejected and crucified Him. I can’t fathom a love like that.

The last part talks about the two becoming one flesh—because Jesus loves us, He lived for us, suffered for us, died and rose again for us—He joined Himself to us, so that when God looks at us, He sees His beloved Son, so that we who were doomed to death might be saved and loved and accepted and completely known. This is the love of God—He became poor so that we might be rich. He took on our sickness that we might be healed. He bore all of our sorrows so that we might have joy. And the Bible tells us that not even death can separate us from the love of Christ.

So this Valentine’s Day, remember what you have—the extravagant love of God.

 

of baby moons and the Gospel

one monthElliot recently turned one month old. That means my Chinese baby moon is over.

In American culture, baby moon usually refers to taking a vacation before the baby arrives. In Chinese culture, however, it means dedicating a month after the baby’s arrival to rest, recover, and focus on caring for the newborn.

Mom & kidsI’ve had the privilege of having Mom help me with three baby moons. The first time was a bit of an adjustment as I learned the do’s and don’ts of Chinese baby moons—do stay in bed, do stay at home, don’t expose yourself or your baby to cold drafts, don’t eat cold food, don’t let your hair air dry (or even wash your hair if you can stand it)… The list is endless, and I confess I do some of it but not others. The part I love is that Mom does all the grocery shopping, all the cooking, all the dishes, and all the laundry. She also cleans up after my kids, burps my baby so I can eat in peace, and gets up early to keep my toddlers out of trouble so that I can sleep in—a luxury I desperately need when I’m getting up several times a night. There’s nothing like being mothered again once you’ve become a mother yourself, and I’m very grateful to both of my parents for loving us in this way.

But I must confess there’s an aspect that’s hard for me too. I have a little voice inside that says I should be taking care of my own family. I should be paying for the groceries. I should be helping my mother and not leaving all the work to her. But the reality is, I can’t. I’ve been too exhausted to keep up with my kids much less maintain the house. And our graduate school budget covers only a fraction of what my parents have spent on us this month. Deep down, I feel like I don’t deserve this at all, because I know I can never repay my parents for all the ways they have showered us with love—this month and my entire life.

In the same way, as I’ve been growing in my understanding of the Gospel, I’m beginning to see that Christianity is not about how I live my life but about how Christ lived His for me. He did the work I could not do. He died the death that I deserve. He did all of this not just because I am His daughter, but to make me His daughter. That’s a love I can never repay but is worthy of gratitude for the rest of my life.

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“But to all who did receive Him, who believed in His name, He gave the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God.” (John 1:12-13 ESV)

pursuing the fairytale

classroom-379216_1280

 

Recently, I’ve been wrestling over the decision of what to do about Arianna’s education.

Now if you don’t have children, please don’t write this off as a parenting post just yet. Last year, I was able to put off this decision, because we weren’t sure where Luke would end up. Now that he’s living his dream as a full-time student, it’s time to focus on the next student in our family.

But there is nothing straightforward about this decision. For one thing, there are hundreds of options here in Saint Louis. For another thing, right now this decision is more about me facing the fears and doubts in my heart than it is about discerning what’s best for Arianna.

I spent most of my school years in good private schools, but we can’t afford private school on a graduate student budget, so that means we consider either public school or home school.

When I was a junior in high school, my parents made the difficult decision to start home education. That created nothing less than an uproar in our home—and in our community. God worked in my heart, and I eventually came to terms with what I believe was God’s will for our family at the time. But now those old misgivings have come flooding back.

That’s not all. I’ve been in the homeschooling community long enough to hear plenty of negative opinions on the public school. So here I am surrounded by other people’s voices and the fears in my own heart.

Luke and I are making this decision together, but part of that means letting God confront those dark corners of my heart. It means asking Him to free me from my fears and help me trust Him one step at a time. It means wanting whatever He wants regardless of how things turn out in the end.

That’s hard—whether you’re deciding your child’s education or pursuing a specific career or figuring out a relationship or choosing a university or major. Most of the time, I just want the path of least resistance. I want the outcome that will encounter the least amount of problems. I want to live a “happily ever after Christian life.”

I am learning that while God gives us promises in the Bible, He never promised us a problem-free Christian life. Instead, He became flesh so that we who were doomed to death might have life. He gave us His presence that we might find strength to face the darkness in this world. He bore the weight of our sin that we might experience the hope and freedom of His resurrection.

That is our fairytale. That is how we face life’s problems and decisions one day at a time.

 

created for eternity

This weekend the kids and I fly out for my grandmother’s memorial service. She lived to be 91, faithful to Jesus and loving her family to the very end. Last year, we thought we might lose her, but God gave us one more year, so I was able to take Isaac to visit her earlier this month—unknowingly for the last time.

Last visit with 奶奶

Last visit with 奶奶

This time, I’m taking Arianna too. That means figuring out how to explain death, eternity, and heaven to her very young three year-old mind.

For example, after I received the news of Grandmother’s death, Arianna cupped my tear-streaked face in her little hands and said, “It’s ok, Mama. Maybe you can go to Heaven to see her!” I tried to smile and replied, “Yes, because I know Jesus, I will see her in Heaven someday. Do you know Him?” She smiled and answered, “Yes.”

Later that evening, I told Luke about our conversation, and he asked her, “Arianna, do you know Jesus?” She nodded. “Do you know where He is?” She grinned shyly and answered, “In my body.” “Oh really, how did He get there?” “Through my back!”

So maybe her theology is a bit off, but it’s a lot for her little mind to comprehend! And in reality, there’s a lot about God and the Gospel that we can’t fully wrap our adult minds around either. I remember in high school hearing about how beautiful and wonderful Heaven is, but deep inside, I hoped Jesus wouldn’t come back just yet. I still wanted to do things—like win the volleyball tournament, graduate from high school, date, get married… There was so much more to life that I wanted to experience before I went to sit on a cloud above streets of gold and sing hymns while playing a harp.

If there’s anything I don’t want Arianna to believe, it’s that picture of Heaven. Yet even now, after I’ve tasted some of the pain and sorrow in this life, I can’t quite grasp how Heaven holds everything that my soul longs for—and more. I can’t fathom an eternity without tears (or anger and frustration for that matter). I can’t imagine how petty and outdated the iPhone 6 will seem when we’re in the presence of the Word Himself.

This year at VOICE, we studied the Ten Commandments. The tenth commandment warned us not to covet the things on earth—why? Because there is absolutely nothing in this world that can satisfy the longings of our heart. It’s a reminder that we weren’t created for this life only—we were created for eternity.

“And this is eternal life, that they know you the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent.” (John 17:3 ESV)

stripping away

VOICE history

VOICE through the years (1999-2013)

You’d think that growing up in a Christian family meant I had it easy. I can’t ever remember a day that I didn’t believe in God. I rarely missed going to church on Sunday. I’ve read through the Bible numerous times. I attended a Christian school. I even spent 13 years as a missionary in Taiwan. You’d think that if anyone knew God, I did.

I don’t think I ever said those things out loud, but deep in my heart, that’s what I believed. I knew what to say, how to act, and even how to think about my life and the problems I (or others) faced. I had Christianity packaged in a nice little box all tied up with a bow.

That is also how I went about serving Christ for many years. When others had problems, I had answers, and so I would offer them my little box. It made sense. It worked for me.

Sadly, that is how VOICE (then known as CLEC) first began. I was 15 years younger with much less ministry experience but a whole lot of spiritual ego. I didn’t know what I was doing, but somehow, I helped create a month-long conference that offered Christianity in a box. But after just a few years, I burned out. I grew tired of enforcing rules, tired of trying to convince others that my version of Christianity was better than theirs.

God was merciful. He used what little I had to offer to touch a few lives—not the least of which was my own. In 2004, when we were asked to host a TESOL training for English teachers from Taiwan, we said yes as long as we could run a student conference at the same time. That marked a significant turning point for VOICE—one in which our focus went from selling a specific version of Christianity to deliberately finding ways to introduce the Gospel through various events. That was how the ever-popular holiday dinners were born.

Here we are 10 years later. If I could tell you what has changed, it is this—I may have more ministry experience, but a whole lot less spiritual superiority. God has since brought problems into my life that I couldn’t resolve. He has allowed me to wrestle with anger and bitterness—and find absolutely no way to “fix” myself. Through these hard situations, I began to understand—maybe for the first time—how utterly helpless I am in my sin, how very little I actually understand about my God, and how much I am in need of His grace. As He has been stripping away the things I once used to prop up my Christian faith, so He has been stripping VOICE of those things as well.

As we look ahead to VOICE 2014, we are facing yet another stripping—perhaps the deepest one yet. As I write this blog post, the IBLP board is investigating a number of serious allegations against Mr. Gothard and has placed him on administrative leave. We are deeply saddened by this news and concerned for Mr. Gothard and everyone involved. We don’t know how things will turn out, but here’s what we do know—

1)    “God is real. Live like it.” This is true, even when the integrity of someone we respect is under fire. This is a time to allow God to strip away more of our misconceptions, so that we learn to place our faith solely in Him.

2)    No matter the outcome of this investigation, those of us who serve on the VOICE staff team are committed to living and proclaiming the Gospel in its purest form to the best of our ability.

Christianity is not about Mr. Gothard. It’s not about VOICE. It’s not about any one of us. Christianity is about a God who loved a world of pathetic, helpless sinners so much that He left His glory to become like one of us, to suffer and die an unjust death at the hands of the sinners He came to save in order to give us life and hope that we don’t deserve. I can’t fathom a God like that. He doesn’t fit in any box.

My hope is built on nothing less
Than Jesus blood and righteousness
I dare not trust the sweetest frame
But wholly trust in Jesus’ name.
Christ alone…