And Jesus called a little child unto Him, and set him in the midst of them, and said, Verily, I say unto you, Except ye be converted , and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven. Matthew 18: 2-3

“Do you have some change, ma’m?”

This was probably the third or fourth time in a week I had been approached by a stranger with the same question. I try to be prepared with something to give these needy souls: Small amounts of money or snacks, and a tract containing the message of salvation. I am not always prepared, and, quite honestly, there are rare occasions I just don’t want to bother with the interruption to my day. But, I try.

“I think I have some change. Just give me a moment here, ” I responded while I rummaged through my very full purse. How is it that you can have several pockets and a purse organizer and still not manage to keep your purse in order?

I prayed as I dug to find something to give this woman for the right words to speak to her. As I pulled out my coin purse (it had been stuck under my purse organizer), I realized I only had a few small coins on me. I looked apologetically into her electric blue eyes, and said, “I am sorry. This is all I have.”

As I handed the change to her she thanked me. She would have walked away, but I stopped her. I wanted to give her more. I had something worth more than all the treasures in the world to share with her: I had Jesus. While I can’t say it was the most successful gospel presentation, before the lady walked away I was able to share some truth and some of my own personal testimony of Christ. She was open enough to let me pray for her, and some of her immediate needs. Then we parted ways. As I write this I wonder if she is safe, if she is suffering out in the heat of the high desert, and whether she truly understands the way of salvation.

This woman that stopped me in the parking lot of Walmart on a hot Southern California day did not hide that she was in physical need. But, she was quick to hide behind an experience that may be masking her spiritual need. There was no difference between her and all the other people in the parking lot that day, except her physical need put her in a position to hear about the ultimate remedy for her greatest need–spiritual life through Jesus Christ.

As I ponder this seemingly incidental happening, I am again reminded that it is only when we understand our own desperate need for salvation that we are willing to look outside of ourselves and up to the outstretched hands of God.

I was pretty desperate when I came to Christ. I am sure both my parents loved me and wanted to meet my needs, but they were just as lost as I was with a hundred times the responsibility. As a result our home life was tumultuous. I was about five years old and I was starving for stability.

Somehow I got invited to a vacation Bible school in a gospel preaching church in my hometown of Mountain Home, Idaho. I wish I knew the name of the church, or the bus driver that drove the bus, or the pastor, but I have not a clue who were these faithful servants to the Lord. All I remember is that on the last day we all sat out and heard a full sermon by the pastor. When he gave an invitation to come forward to receive Christ, I went. I went because somehow I knew that a Heavenly Father was waiting to make me His child, and I wanted that enough to step out in front of total strangers. I lady came and talked to me about asking Jesus into my heart, and I did so immediately.

I wish I could say I have always responded to the Holy Spirit that obediently, but anyone who knows me, believers and unbelievers, knows that is not true. But, I do know this: That seemingly incidental happening changed the course of my life and my eternal destiny. And while I cannot boast a life not scarred by my own willful sin, I can boast that Jesus has never turned is back on me.

As a result, I am not the same. I am not the same person I was before I got saved. I am not the same person I was before I committed my life to following Christ. I am not same person I was ten years ago: I am not even the same person I was ten weeks ago. Christ has been patiently drawing me more to Himself, and I would not have it any other way.

Do I have change? More than you could imagine, dear one.

I hate alarm clocks. Lamentably, they are a necessary evil. Having a very full schedule I have to wake up 6 days of the week earlier than I would prefer. So I must have an alarm clock. Of course, most of us use our phones as alarm clocks now days, and can pick from a variety of alarm sounds. We can even create our own alarm jingle. For a while I tried to use the song “Overcomer” by Mandisa for my alarm. It’s a fun, positive, peppy song. That lasted about two months: Now I hate that song. I don’t even allow it to play on my radio.

Know what I hate more than an alarm? Snooze settings. What wicked person ever thought of such a thing? Who wants to be reawakened every ten minutes to the same horrible racket when you were obviously too tired to wake up the first time? It doesn’t help that I am married to man that has been both a farmer and a truck driver who legitimately needs that snooze option. But it is fair to say my affection for snooze alarms is not growing any stronger.

Imagine my horror at realizing I am the snooze alarm. Even worse, I may have contributed to the lullaby that put us all back to sleep in the first place. Nevertheless, there is a time that someone has to be willing to step up and sound the alarm. I have looked for someone else. I have nudged a few. I have downright dared a few to take up the mantle. But, at the end of the day I was the one left alone with the knowledge, personal experience and responsibility to sound the alarm.  So with much regret,  I am going to play my jingle again–only louder.

I recently wrote a blog about several policies the Nestucca Valley School Board passed that undermined the First Amendment rights of teachers ( Teaching on Religion IGAC) and parental rights (Human Sexuality, AIDS/HIV, Sexually Transmitted Diseases, Health Education IGAI) What is that smell in our sleepy Nestucca Valley? At the time of that blog I was completely oblivious to Nestucca Valley School District’s current gun free zone policy (Weapons–Students JFCJ). However, I have since come to a full understanding, and I am awake.

While I was originally misinformed about this policy, I was also duped by the June Nestucca Valley School District Board agenda with a lot of “mistakes” as to what was a “Policy First Reading–Proposed Adoption” and was a “Second Reading of Policy/Policy Adoption–Deletion.” I should note to the reader that these policies are not read out loud as these lines suggest by the board at the meeting, unless there is a grammatical error. Grammatical errors demand the policies be read in part, not in full. Also, I had only received electronic copies of the policies a few days prior and had very little time to peruse through them, let alone thoroughly inspect them. Finally, the board was referring to page numbers in a document I did not possess. I confess that I was struggling to follow the progression of the meeting.

However, the most pertinent happening that led to my confusion was a comment by Superintendent, Misty Wharton.  I had been alerted to some possible weapons policy changes by a comment at the May meeting by board member Diane Boisa. Therefore, I went ahead and voiced concerned about making our school district a gun free zone 24/7, year round, on all school property and at every place the district holds an event given that 98% of mass shootings occur in Gun Free Zones (Crime Research Center ) at the June 10th meeting. I received a lot of interesting looks from board members, but not one bothered to point out that they had already established Nestucca Valley School District as a Gun Free Zone (Former JFCJ Weapons-Students). However, Ms. Wharton did comment that the board was not voting on that policy that night. Several minutes later the board voted to approve all their proposed and deleted polices I-K/L, all 684 pages, in one swoop. There was not a nay or a even a question by a single board member: Next agenda item, moving on. And, yes, JFCJ Weapons in Schools–Students was one of those policies.

In all fairness to Ms. Wharton, she may have been referring to the Weapons policy for staff members Weapons –Staff GBJ. I did not reference that policy, but made my comments based on a quick review of the above referenced Weapons–Student policy. Furthermore, the board secretary noted in the minutes for that meeting that my public comment was concerning JFCJ (these minutes are not available online at this time, but can be requested at the district office).  Does that make Ms. Wharton’s assertion after my public testimony that the board would not be approving a new gun policy a lie? I don’t know. However, I can tell you that when I realized the worse of the two policies had already been passed I felt lied to. I felt deceived. I felt totally hoodwinked by my school board members and the superintendent. I will leave the sorting out of motives and intentions to the only True and Righteous Judge.

So how has the Weapons in Schools–Student policy (JFCJ) changed? Not a lot, with the exception of giving the superintendent to the power to refer “all other policy violations” to law enforcement. Prior to this the policy was rather vague about punishment “other persons” or non-student violators may face. So what kind of violations did our board just give the superintendent the right to report to law enforcement? For one, “possession of a firearm within 1000ft. of school property.” Full reading of the weapons policy leaves one to wonder if their can have certain fertilizers, a taser, or bear spray in their home or on their person within 1000ft. of school property. And, by the way, staff members must  report if you have such items within the Gun Free Zone up to 120 days after you violated the policy.

And, so now we have a school district that demands teachers renounce their personal convictions on faith and family. We have a school district that requires teachers to spend a specific amount of hours teaching “health” that includes transgenderism. A school district that readily provides minors with access to abortion on demand at all stages of pregnancy without parental notification. A school district that requires for staff to report if they see people in their homes next to the school with firearms, pepper spray or fertilizer up to 120 days after the fact that they noticed these items. Is this the school district your taxes pay for, you send your kids to, and that 3 generations of your family has graduated from? The school district funded by your property taxes and local timber sales? Why, yes it is.

So how did this happen? How do you ruin a school district in 3 years?

1. Don’t go to board meetings. They are boring. They don’t listen to the patrons. They are not scheduled at convenient times.
2. When you hear of your school board doing some strange things, rather covertly, and suddenly there is a new superintendent, don’t question it. Just go with it. Now the kids can play dodge ball again. Life goes on.
3. Be so excited and trusting of your temporary superintendent because they are “local” that you become more entrenched about #1 and less questioning about anything.
4. Don’t question how the interim superintendent suddenly became the permanent (3 year contract) superintendent even though the job offer was never on a meeting agenda. Then refer back to #3.
5.  Assume that the board members are more interested in representing you than seeing through their personal agendas or those of the superintendent.
6. If you begin to question the motives of the board or administration never call, question, or email them. Just re-elect them. They will get it right eventually.
7. Assume that the board and the superintendent know more than you do. They are the experts on all the educational laws and regulations. You are just the parent or community member, you don’t understand all these complex issues
8. Let the superintendent answer all statements and questions to the board members. Sure, they’re your elected officials responsible to you, but she is the one taking charge. Just roll with it.

Now, you understand why I called myself the snooze alarm. This is not pleasant to the ear. Especially if you are tired of hearing about it. And some of you have probably tried to voice concerns to the superintendent or the board members, but felt defeated or ignored. Trust me, I have tried to deal with many of these issues with them privately. They are not budging .

I have been guilty of all of the things on that list. If you feel that I am pointing a finger at this community, then rest I assured I know I have 3 fingers pointing back at me. I am quite possibly more responsible than anyone other than our board members and superintendent. Why? Because I knew the truth. I knew how the superintendent got her permanent job offer (3 year contract) in April 2017, and I did not make it public. I knew that she would have conflicting worldviews with most of the community, but hoped she would set those aside to be a true public servant. I even did a very flattering interview for the current superintendent for the Tillamook County Pioneer soon after her job offer. I have been responsible for leading the public to trust Misty Wharton.

Unfortunately, she has proven herself unworthy of our trust, and our elected school board members have refused to do their job of supervising her. In fact, it was Superintendent Wharton that gave newly elected board member, Bill Haggerty, his oath of office. In case, you missed the gravity of this happening: Mr. Haggerty is her boss, but she gave him his oath and shook his hand. Who’s the boss?

So the snooze alarm has sounded again. Are you willing to get out of bed this time? Is there not a cause for this community to come together and say enough is enough. People came from all over the state this year to protest cap and trade, gun restrictions, and mandatory vaccination bills proposed in Salem. Our we willing to fight for our constitutional rights in our own backyard? If you don’t, then expect a fight in a courtroom near you soon, paid for by you on both sides of the litigation. Or perhaps we are willing to let our schools be one more site for a school shooting in a “gun free zone?”

Let’s do what small, rural communities do best: Wake up early, go to work and support one another in a worthy cause. This is our school and our community. Let’s own it.

I love our rural community. This photo mirrors a painting I have given to me by a dear friend that was originally painted by a grade school friend’s mother. I have displayed it in every home I have lived in. To me this picture represents the beauty of this place, and not just because of the scenery. But, the people. I love these people. I adore the ones who share my beliefs, and I love the ones who don’t. I am grateful for those that like me, and I am grateful for those that don’t. I have been truly blessed to live here for the majority of my life. And I have probably received more grace and love by my community than I can ever give back.

But this last week, my heart broke for our rural townships. So in love I will tell my community the truth. Something is rotten in our little hamlet of the Nestucca Valley. And the putrid smell isn’t cow manure.

Out of a conviction from God, a sense of duty to our community, and an interest in taking part of our local government I have attended quite a few school board meetings over the last 2 years. I am like all of you: I have a very busy schedule. My life is full, and has its share of challenges. Still as much as possible I have been at our local school board meetings. I have been a witness, and often the only witness, outside the school employees and board members.

Our local school district, under the direction of our superintendent, has taken on many projects this last year. They have their normal duties of approving budgets, contracts, and settling employee issues. They have also had to coordinate the sell of a property and the planning for the construction of the new and renovated elementary building. That really is quite a lot to take on, and no doubt they have done much of that right.

However, they have also been about adopting many, many new policies. In fact, one section of their new policies is probably longer than their entire group of previous policies. It has been a challenge to follow, and nearly impossible to get through all the policy readings. Truthfully, I have not been able to get through all the policies. Not only has it been difficult to get through the reading of these policies, but mistakes in the writing of the school agenda and the lack of comments from the board on the policies, outside of grammatical errors, can lead attendees of the meeting to believe they are harmless, necessary pieces of legalese. But, that is not the case.

For reasons I still cannot comprehend on June 10, 2019 our local school board approved most of the I, J,K proposed policies which were recently made available to view by the public on the school website. In particular interest to our community should be policies IGAC Teaching on Religion and IGAI Human Sexuality, AIDS, Sexually Transmitted Diseases, Health Education. To save you navigating the school website (impossible on most handheld devices) here is a direct link to the I policies .https://www.nestucca.k12.or.us/do/Board/meeting/Policy-I-Instruction-Draft.pdf Please do not read either title and be misled by the content. Both policies stamp all over teachers’ freedom of conscience and constitutionally protected first amendment rights.

Most urgently, Nestucca Valley School District just took a swipe at every parent’s right to teach their children what is moral when it comes to sexual behavior and abortion. Please understand: You CANNOT opt out of this curriculum, Kindergarten through Twelfth Grade. You will not even be notified when the school teaches your children about being transgender, queer, or nonbinary. Not to mention that your girls will be told all about their right to abort their child without your knowledge. Oh, sure, they will still notify you and give you an opt out for the actual sex education. And I would suggest you do at least that, because the school curriculum cannot teach that ANY sexual behavior is shameful, as long as all parties are in consent.

Are you angry, yet? Are you disappointed? Frustrated? Then please, please let your school board members and superintendent know. I have been told any policy can change, but in all honesty folks I think that it will take more than just me and a few friends to change this one. It is time to wake up and smell the scent of your rights being taken away one little bit at a time. It really does stink: It is rotten to the core.

Don’t think it stops here. Don’t think you can hide in your private school or homeschool. This year’s attempted legislation at mandatory vaccinations and bringing government experts into every home to decide whether the home is stable and well functioning at state level has proven that is not true.

And, please don’t believe that just because the Oregon Department of Education has deemed this is what is good and right for your children that it requires our local school district to place comprehensive health education directly in their policy books. There are many, many school districts around the state that have not.

I will leave you with one final thought. There are those in authority that think they can silently pass laws and policies that take away your constitutionally protected rights, and they will do so with no qualms. But, you do not have to let them. They think that if we just let these policies stand, even if they later get sued and have to amend their ways, it will be worth the cost. After all, who is going to pay for a lawsuit against a local school district: You are. Probably on both sides of it. Meanwhile, they have managed to confuse, and dictate the morality of your children.

That is a price tag I am not willing to pay. Not without a fight, because I love this community and it’s people. I hope you will join me.

Here are some other links that may help you understand these issues:

Oregon Department of Education:https://www.oregon.gov/ode/students-and-family/healthsafety/Documents/sexedfaq.pdf

Parents rights: https://www.parentsrightsined.com/

These are valid, pertinent articles that raise concern, but may not represent my personal convictions.

Articles: https://www.lifesitenews.com/news/california-school-district-says-parents-cant-pull-kids-from-new-lgbt-sex-ed

https://quillette.com/2019/03/19/an-interview-with-lisa-littman-who-coined-the-term-rapid-onset-gender-dysphoria/

Forasmuch as many have taken in hand to set forth in order a declaration of those things which are most assuredly believed among us. Luke 1:1

Christmas is nearly here. The day we celebrate that a fat jolly man that delivers gifts to all the good little boys and girls in the world via a sleigh pulled by eight flying reindeer. Our faith is so strong that Santa Claus will accomplish his impossible task that most of us have spent hours (and lots of money) searching for the perfect gifts for those children, and many others in our lives, over the last several weeks. So confident are we that our children will continue in our steadfast faith of Kris Kringle that we don’t fill their stockings with care or place their wrapped gifts under the tree until after their asleep on Christmas Eve. Santa just needs a little help from his friends (us) in order to ensure the next generation’s undying allegiance to belief in his miraculous powers.

. . .because thou believest not my words, which shall be fulfilled in their season. Luke 1:20

Of course there are always the scoffers out there. Those unbelievers that insist Santa is a fairy tale. Some of them even refuse to tell their children he is real at all. But we will persevere against all odds, and even show our faith by leaving out a plate of cookies for Mr. Claus on that special night. Sure we just eat them ourselves after the kids go to bed, but faith without works is dead. Besides, it’s Christmas: Miracles happen.

For with God nothing shall be impossible. Luke 1:37

Forgive my sarcasm above. But, isn’t interesting how the whole world is always ready for a miracle by the end of the year? Christian or pagan, and everyone in between, we are looking something bigger than ourselves to believe in. If it has been a good year, then the miracles we seek to find are just further confirmation of how wonderful the year has been. And, if it has been a difficult year, then the miracles we seek are a desperate attempt to salvage something to help us through those last dark days of this year. In the Northern Hemisphere it is the darkest month of the year, and we yearn for some light. We yearn for a miracle.

To give light to them that sit in darkness and in the shadow of death to guide our feet into the way of peace. Luke 1:79

And if we get a miracle, what are we going to do with it? Because by definition, miracles are outside the realm of ordinary, rational, explainable, or natural. Miracles can not be proven by the scientific method. They are supernatural. If we receive, or see, the miracle our souls desire will we recognize it as a miracle? And will that miracle have lasting impact on us?

And it was so, that while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered. Luke 2:6

The truth is Christmas did not begin because a fat jolly man that started an act of random kindness movement on a global scale. Christmas begins with Christ, literally. It began with the impossible, the salvation of fallen man through a long prophesied Messiah. It was accomplished by God becoming a man, living as a man, dying as a man, but rising from the dead–proving He was the God/man. It continues thousands of years later to do the miraculous: Changing the heart, soul, and eternal destiny of all who believe.

And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn. Luke 2:7

Interestingly, so few of us recognize the miracle of Christmas that is repeatedly presented throughout the season. A recent Pew Research survey found only 11% of non-Christians believed that Christ was born of a virgin, laid in a manger, announced by angels to shepherds, and visited by wise men guided by a star. That percent is decreased by nearly half since 2014. More shocking is the decline among Christians that believe in the same basic elements of the Christmas story PRESENTED IN THE BIBLE: Only 85% of professed Christians believe the Biblical account of Christ’s birth. This has decreased by 5% in the last three years. We have stopped believing in the miraculous. And what is painfully obvious is that as our belief in the miraculous has declined, so has our hope. And the year 2017 is full of examples that hope is not trending. What is trending is hate, pride, and unbelief.

And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. Luke 2:10

But, do not despair! We post-modern dwellers are in good company with our progenitors: The human race has a history of doubting the miraculous, even those who were intimately involved with the Biblical account of the Christmas story. In both the gospels of Matthew and Luke there are lists of the ancestors of Christ. While it is true many of these men and women are listed in the roll call of faith in Hebrews 11, their bouts with doubt are also accounted for throughout the Scriptures. Abraham, the friend of God and Patriarch of Israelites, doubted God’s promise of an heir and took it upon himself to fulfill God’s promise by having a son with Hagar. Isaac failed to listen to God about who should have the spiritual birthright, and determined to bless his favorite son instead. In fact, there are doubters, rebels, and downright no good rotten sinners throughout the blood line of Christ.

For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord. Luke 2:11

But, many of them were recipients of miracles and it changed them, from the inside out. Abraham had that promised heir. Isaac blessed the God chosen son. A harlot married a prince. Her son married a widow from an idolatrous nation that became a true believer. David’s line was preserved despite mistakes, terrible sin, murderous coups, and foreign captivity–many times over. And true to their ancestors, both Jesus’s earthly parents battled doubts about His conception. Yet the miraculous happened, hope was conceived, born, and laid in a manger to be worshipped by shepherds.

And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. Luke 2:12

Truly miracles are all around us. Not just the ones recorded in Christ’s birth. Not just the Biblical accounts in the Old Testament or the healings performed by Christ during His earthly ministry. Real, live, breathing miracles. Every little one wondrously created in the womb, every sunrise and sunset, every sickness that is not followed by death, and every changed heart is miracle straight from the heart of a Good Father and a God that loves.

Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men. Luke 2:14

And we are left with a choice–belief or unbelief.

And all they that heard it wondered at those things which were told them by the shepherds. Luke 2:18

Recently, our oldest son nearly succumbed to an autoimmune disease complicated by an infection. He was probably within a few days of losing his life. We had done everything we knew to do. We (not mention our church, family, and friends) had prayed every prayer we could. We sought medical advice. Simply put, he was beyond earthly help. There was nothing we could do. For reasons we do not understand, God chose to heal him in His timing. Yes, he received medical intervention. Yes, he continued on a healthy diet. Yes, people prayed. Lots of people. But, when a person with Crohn’s gains 30 pounds in three weeks, there is no medical explanation. There is no rationalizing it. Only God can bring that kind of healing. And it is to Him we give the glory. I do not choose to believe there was something I did, or the doctors did, to obtain this victory. I choose to believe the miracle came from the only One who is capable of the miraculous–God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit.

And the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things that they had heard and seen, as it was told unto them. Luke 2: 20

And now we come back to Christmas. Why Christmas? Because the Christmas story is not just timely, it is full with examples of faith and doubt, belief and unbelief, truth and consequence. Mary chose believe the angel’s proclamation, despite her doubts and fears. She was rewarded with a precious baby, and the only perfect child to ever live. Can you even imagine a non-terrible toddler? That is a rich reward! Joseph chose to believe God and marry Mary despite her marred reputation (and his), and he was rewarded with an obedient, delightful child. The shepherds believed the angels message and got to be the first worshippers of Christ. And they were so excited they told everyone.

. . .Where is he that is born King of the Jews? For we have seen his star in the east, and are come to worship him. Matthew 2: 2

But there is another character in the Christmas story. He is often overlooked. Often we purposely leave him out as we repeat the story to small children. But, he is nonetheless a player in the otherwise joyful account. His name is Herod. He was a man of great accomplishment, power, and wealth. He had everything he wanted. His only desire was to secure his absolute power and continued dynasty. When men from the east questioned where the newly born king of the Jews was, he did not rejoice in the news of the long awaited Messiah. He didn’t even know where the Christ was supposed to be born. He was so blind he could not even see the star in his backyard the wise men had followed from far away. He refused to believe in the miraculous, and endeavored to stamp out the hope of all mankind. Yet, even Herod could not win against God. His unbelief, doubt, and fears led him to murder hundreds of innocents. He left a legacy of murderous tyrants, and an example of the consequence of pride and doubt: A life without hope and light, a soul devoid of the love of God. That is not a good ending.

When Herod the king heard these things, he was troubled, and all Jerusalem with him. Matthew 2: 3

Truly, Christmas is the season of miracles. We can be like Mary, Joseph, the shepherds, and the wise men and choose to believe in the miracles of the birth of Christ. We can choose to believe the miraculous works of God around us.

When they had heard the king, they departed; and lo, the star, which they saw in the east, went before them, till it came and stood over where the year until child was. Matthew 2: 9

Or we can choose not to believe in God’s plan of salvation: The miracle of the God the Son born as a babe to a virgin and laid in manger. We can, like Herod, choose to believe we can overcome the Almighty God through our own power and might. We can continue to believe the modern myth that if we are good enough gifts will magically appear. Miracles are not earned or obtained, they can only be received. And the greatest miracle is the gift of salvation freely offered to us through belief in the person and the work of Jesus Christ.

And when they were come into the house they saw the young child with Mary his mother, and fell down, and worshipped him . . . Matthew 2:11

I will offer to Thee the sacrifice of thanksgiving, and I will call upon the name of the Lord. Psalm 116:17

I confess, I just don’t wanna.

I don’t wanna go clean out that cooler so I can drop that frozen bird into a honey brine this morning.

I don’t wanna “practice” making a dairy-free, wheat-free, sugar–free, gluten-free pumpkin pie–again.

And I really don’t wanna trample out in the rain to our smoker every 30-45 minutes from 4 a.m. on Thursday until that temperamental turkey decides to pop his button. I. Just. Don’t. Wanna.

At first I felt rather guilty about this attitude. But, when I first told my husband, and he compassionately instructed me I would just have to “get through it” my guilt started melting. Then I told my mom (who despite all her difficult life has brought her has ALWAYS managed to cook a Thanksgiving meal), and she affirmed she felt the same. My feelings of guilt evaporated at this point. And, let’s not even mention how I felt when my husband mentioned he might go hunting Thanksgiving morning. Let’s just summarize by saying the whole Thanksgiving holiday had begun to feel like a huge sacrifice on my part, and I had no desire to comply with everyone else’s expectations. In fact, I began to feel like I was the turkey: As if to be a good wife and mother meant giving up my whole being as a continual sacrifice, so that everyone else could be full and satisfied.

Being the turkey. It’s not always easy to be the sacrifice. We have our own selfish wills to defeat. We have desires that conflict with our duties and responsibilities to others. We have attitudes that are not conducive to conforming to the will of God for our lives. In his letter to the Romans, the first world citizens of his time, Paul clearly instructed the believers, “I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that he present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable to God, which is your REASONABLE service” (12:1, emphasis mine). Not sure Paul was thinking of a turkey, but he definitely drew a word picture of a sacrifice on an altar. And that sacrifice is me.

Thankfully, God does not just dictate commands, but gives us instructions on how to follow His commands. Romans 12:2 instructs us, “Be not conformed to this world, but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect will of God.” In contrast to all the “do what feels good for you” mantra of this world, God wants us to change our minds to match His will for us. He wants to change our “don’t wanna” attitudes, and our “not feelin it” feelings. He wants to transform us to be willingly sacrificed for His glory, with an attitude of love toward those around us. Just like Jesus when He sacrificed His all on a cursed cross to buy salvation for the world: Total surrender to the will of His Father with a heart of love toward those crucifying Him.

So, Lord willing, I will be smoking that turkey and trying to make that pumpkin pie. And while I am at it, I am going to be thanking God for His goodness to me.

Oh, that men would praise the Lord for His goodness, and for His wonderful works to the children of men. Psalm 107: 31

For the thing which I greatly feared is come upon me, and that which I was afraid of is come unto me. Job 3:25

It had been 5 months. Five months of worry. Five months of scouring the internet for alternative options. Five months of striving for health. Five months of crying out to God for healing. Yet here I was looking out of my son’s hospital room. I guess all things considered, it could be worse. 

I mean look at the view. Breathtaking, autumn colors in the beautiful Pacific Northwest. Talk about a room with a view.

And, oh, how I needed that view. 

There are few things that try our faith like suffering. And if watching your child be completely overcome by a merciless autoimmune disease is not suffering, then what is suffering? 

But the view. 

Where was my Heavenly Father in all this? Where was He when I was crying on the floor of bedroom not sure I could bear one more cry of my son? Where was He as my husband and I racked our brains, our friends’ ideas, books, the knowledge of medical professionals, and the all-knowing Google for one more option? Where was He as I cried on the hospital room floor, fearing so much worse than hospitalization? What was God’s view of His child’s suffering?

It was here.

 Oh, I know. Jesus isn’t on the cross anymore. I know He sits on the right hand of  God the Father in heaven. Victorious over death, and risen from the grave. But He chose to suffer the anguish of that cross, so I could be with Him always. And the Father endured the death of His Beloved Son, so I could be His child. What kind of love is that? 

 
It is the kind of love that draws His suffering child nearer to His own heart. The Lord is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart, and save such as be of a contrite spirit. Psalms 34:18

It is the kind of love that hears the faintest whimper from His child’s heart. The righteous cry , and the Lord heareth, and delivereth them out of  all their troubles. Psalms 34:17

It is the kind of love that keeps in view all that concerns His child. The eyes of the Lord are upon the righteous, and His ears are open to their cry. Psalms 34:15

Has my view of God changed because of suffering? No. And yes.

No, because knowledge of God’s Word and my experience has taught me God is faithful, good, compassionate, and kind. After all. God is love. 

Yes, because my knowledge and experience of God’s character has expanded. 

 When I was in the emergency room with my son, I could not see a panaramic view of hills and trees. Even if there had been windows: I could not have see but a few trees on the bottom  floor. However, from a seventh floor room in the same building the view was greater, broader, deeper, and higher. The trees were the same as before, but I could see more of them. That’s what happens when we allow God into our suffering. Suffering with God gives room for  the sufferer to expand their view of God. 

We are all going to suffer. We cannot unfollow pain. We cannot unsubscribe to hurt. However, we do have a choice about how we react to suffering. We can choose to suffer with God or without Him. We can choose to take in that view or turn our backs in anger and bitterness. 

As I wrap this up it is dark. Instead of beautiful trees I see a millon lights. Behind, under, and around those lights are people. Most of them are suffering in some way or another. Maybe they are not stuck in a hospital bed receiving treatment, like my son,  but they might be suffering worse. My son is not out of options, yet. I am not of options, yet. And if you are breathing, you are not out of options yet. Consider Jesus, He is the best option. Make room in your view for the only Savior, and never suffer alone again.

O taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the man that trusteth in Him. Psalms 34:8

Sunday is my favorite. Really. I love waking up knowing my family and I get to go to the house of the Lord on Sunday. I rejoice in the thought of fellowshipping with my church family, singing the old hymns, and, yes, listening to the preaching of God’s word. As a bonus, I get to see my husband all dressed up, AND sit next to him. Well most of the time I get to sit next to him: When the kids let me. After church, is almost as good. Our family enjoys one of our few meals together, and the conversation is spurred by the scriptures we heard earlier. As the afternoon wears on to our only lazy day we take in our needed rest and relaxation. Sometimes we even take naps! Yep, Sundays are my favorite.

Sunday nights, not so much. Once our evening church service is over the work for the coming week interrupts our serene household like an uninvited and unwanted houseguest. It is not that our family despises hard work. As former farmers we enjoy working with our hands, laboring long hours, and overcoming obstacles with ingenuity. We rarely look at difficult jobs with downcast hearts. Unkept yards, disorganized houses, piles of just about any kind of material (I mentioned we used to be farmers, right?) do not deter us. Actually, I hate piles of paperwork, but aside from that, difficult jobs energize us. 

But, Sunday nights. Ugh.

Picture this recent scene from a Sunday night in our household. I had just completed every task that demanded my attention before retiring for the night. My husband was tucking the kids into bed. I should have continued my course, and finished my nightly preparations for sleeping. Instead I parted the clothes in our closet, sat down on a large plastic storage container, and began praying. 

You may be getting visions of Priscilla Shirer’s prayer closet from War Room. That’s sweet, but no. First of all, my closet is full to the brim. My hope was actually to hide for a few minutes. Hence the necessity to part the clothes and pull them back in front of me. Besides, I wasn’t just praying. I was a forty year old woman hiding in her closet and crying like a toddler told to go take a nap. I just didn’t want to. I didn’t want to face the next day, let alone the next week. I definitely don’t got this one. 

Before you judge me to have the maturity of a toddler with  the emotional stability of a teenage drama queen, let me explain some things I don’t got. 

First, and foremost, my oldest son is battling a severe flare up of Crohn’s disease. My 5’10 twenty-one year old son know weighs as much as his 5’2 seventeen year old sister. And, no she is not big boned, out of shape, or (as our family prefers to call it) plump. Anyone who has battled an autoimmune disease knows there are prescription medicines that can readily be presercibed that MAY help their symptoms. For Crohn’s the long term options are immune suppersors and biologics. Immune suppressors are not a great option for persons living on a college campus, and I don’t think I can even begin to explain what biologics do. Either way you are left with no promises of good health. Hence our son’s decision to battle his disease with diet and lifestyle. He initially experienced a lot of success with this choice, but a year back at college with minimal food choices and plenty of stress has thrown his body to a resistant to treatment flare up. And as his mother, I have a front row seat to his pain and suffering, feel the responsibility fo being his health advocate, and am desparately trying to get nutrition into his malnutritioned body.  

But, troubles never come without friends. In other health woes, my oldest daughter is suffering chronic ear infections from wisdom teeth that we were decisively told would not cause her any problems. In case,  you have not experienced an ear infection lately, they are painful. I was kind of hoping by seventeen we would be done with ear infections for her. 

No add two other younger children to this mix that I have had their share of illnesses in the last month (everything from throat infections to stomach bugs), and one may get an idea why I wanted to hide in my closet and cry.

But, we have extended family issues. I have a brother who is a heroine addict. His addiction brings on all kinds of other issues with other family members. We have a family memeber with a traumatic brain injury that is having a very long road to recovery.

Finally, all of the above must be borne while my husband puts in about 80 hours per week. While he is valiantly trying to keep up with all our financial obligations I am left to take on all of the above. And so much more. While some may be used to this amount of separation from their spouse, I am not. This particular employment arrangement has only been the case for this last year. I am used to my husband being within a few minutes drive away. Now he is sometimes 300 miles away. 

I admit. I feel rather pathetic about hiding in a closet to cry, but everything had started to overwhelm me. But, I was not alone in that closet, because I was crying out to my Savior, Jesus Christ. And, as He always does, He met me there. He did not instantly remove all my problems, but He reminded me I would not face them alone because He has promised, “I will never thee, nor forsake thee” ( Hebrews 13:5). 

Somehow I got through the next week. Not that it went much better. My oldest son is arguably worse off than before. But, something did click for me as I was reading through my Bible the other day. My reading guide had brought me to Job (no I did not choose that book). As most know, Job had more catastrophes fall on him in one day than most have fall on them in a lifetime. Given this, it stands to reason one might find something of comfort for troubled times in this poetic book. And comfort I found in Chapter 5, verses 7-9

“Yet man is born unto trouble, as the sparks fly upward” (7). Oh yeah, we got trouble.

“I would seek unto God, and unto God would I commit my cause” (8). Been doing that one, Lord.

“Which doeth great things and unsearchable; marvelous things without number” (9). Hmm. Yes, well I might have forgotten that part.

Here was my remedy. It was not a promise that God would fix everything the way I want it. It was a reminder that my God does amazing things. Things that are beyond my understanding. Things that are so numerous and awesome that I forget they are miraculous. It was time to focus on the greatness of God and all the marvelous things He has done.

Here I was forgetting that I don’t have to got this. God has got this. God has got all of this. God did not need me when He spoke the  universe into existence. I was not consulted as He designed, and then carried through His great plan of salvation throughout the span of history. I only existed as a thought of His mind when He rose from the dead. I could not even take credit for choosing to be in the right place at the right time to hear of His saving grace. It was only by His divine direction, and His merciful call on my lost soul that I was saved from a life of sin and its eternal consequences. Then there are the countless wonderful things God has done for me since my salvation. 

So the next time you feel like hiding in your closet to cry, go ahead. I won’t judge, and neither will God. 

But when you are done crying remember God does have whatever sent you to the closet. We were never meant to solve our own problems anyways. You may not have this one, so why not give it to the One with nail-scarred hands? He is just waiting for you to hand it over. 

“Humble yourselves therefore under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you in due time. Casting all your care upon Him, for He careth for you” (I Peter 5:7).



It is March, and if you live on the Oregon Coast that means one thing: Rain. 

Rain isn’t all bad. We all understand it keeps the beauty that surrounds our incomparable landscape green. We know it saturates the soil preparing it for a bountiful bearing of ferns, flowers, and fruits. We are thankful it lesssens the likelihood of a major forest fire. And, yes, we are aware that it helps power most of our state through hydroelectricty: Keeping our power bills among the lowest in the country. For all these things Western Oregonians are incredibly grateful. 

But, honestly, it has been raining here for six months. Oh, sure, we have had some breaks in the rain. There has been snow, sleet, and some new fangled precipitation termed by our meteorologists as “wintry mix.” A fancy word for, “We have no idea what exactly is going to be falling from the sky, but it will be wet and it will be cold.” 

In all fairness, we have had some sunny spells. But, they are so rare that we are nearly blinded by the light, because our eyes have adjusted to a dark, grey sky that is like a Thanksgiving guest that decides to stay–FOREVER! And, let me tell you, on those sunny days everybody is running outside hoping to catch some of those precious Vitamin D filled rays and seal them in some Mason jars for another day. Because, no Oregonian would ever be caught dead with plastic. Meanwhile, our children our donning shorts and asking to set up the pool. Yes, the sunshine here in the winter is a cause for great rejoicing.

So no matter how much we know the rain is a blessing from heaven, by March we are so done with it. And, I think most of us were done with it in January this particular year. In fact, anyone who can is escaping to sunnier climates just to stop the onslaught of wintry blues. Even those of us with the sunniest dispositions are finding ourselves reflecting the sky above: Grey, gloomy, and watering the earth with our tears. Lord, have mercy on us! I know you said it would “rain on the just and the unjust,” but hasn’t it rained enough? 

I am sure the last bit seems a little over dramatic, but if you don’t live on the Oregon Coast, then don’t judge. Walk six months, in the winter, in our rubber boots and see how you fare. Most of you would be fleeing by December. 

But, if I am completely honest, it is not just the rain that is getting to me. The rain is merely a metaphor for what is going on all around me. It seems the rains storms are without AND within. And right now I see very few sun breaks in the forecast. Just within my community and circle of friends I have heard of four attempted suicides in the last two weeks. Two were successful. But the devastation the attempts have left behind, is horrendous on all levels. We also know of several  people forty-five and younger who have unexpectedly died, leaving weeping widows and children, and so many “what ifs.” As if the deaths were not enough, we have friends, family and church family struggling financially, emotionally, physically, and spiritually. They are not suffering from little puddles in the road either. Their torrential rain has caused earth shaking landslides. Even our own family is recovering from a significant change of direction in the last year that has left us on a wilderness journey. And, frankly, in earthly terms we do not know where or when the “promised land” is supposed to appear. We are not even sure what it looks like.

So, the rain seems to relentlessly continue. It cares not that it damages the roads we travel. It does not stay from delaying, or canceling our  plans, hopes and dreams. And our tears seem to simply disappear in the deluge that surrounds us. Where is the sun? Can you even hear us through the clouds and pelting showers, Lord? Are Your only words for us blasting winds, bangs of thunder, and crashes of lightening? 

 I have no answers. But I have this Father who DOES have the answers.  I have this Savior that does not leave me alone in the rain. I have this Spirit that whispers hope.

Sometimes we think that God is either raining on us or shining on us. But, that is why He sent Jesus. Jesus came so that we could intimately know the Father through Him: ” And we have seen and do testify that the Father sent the Son to be the Savior of the world, ” I John 4:14 (Emphasis mine). Being a woman, I have not always understood a father’s heart. However, I have watched my husband with our children. He has taught me a father doesn’t just smile at or chide his children, he delights in simply being with his children. Faith in Christ brings us into a relationship with God the Father, AND an eternal invitation to fellowship with God the Father.

This Father delights in holding His children through the storms: “Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth those who fear Him,” ( Psalm 103:13).

This Savior promises His power to overcome the storms: “These things have I spoken unto you, that in Me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have trouble; BUT be of good cheer; I HAVE OVERCOME THE WORLD, ” John 16:33 ( All emphasis mine).

This Spirit is the Comforter in the storm: “Nevertheless I tell you the truth; it is expedient for you that I go away: For if I go not away, the Comforter will not come unto you; but if I depart, I will send Him unto you, ” John 16: 7 ( Emphasis mine).

So, while I cannot tell you WHEN it is going to stop raining, I can tell you it WILL stop raining. Yes, the ground will still be sloppy for some time. Yes, the land may be forever changed due to the prolonged rains. And, yes, there will need to be time, effort, and resources spent to repair the damage from this season. But, the sun will come. It will cheer our spirits, warm our bodies, and kiss our tears. 

And there will be a day when the Son comes, and He will reign forever. That is the reign that holds all my dearest hopes. It is the reign that I will be glad there is no end, in any forecast–ever! 

The daffodils are blooming, friends. The sun is on its way, and so is the Son. Let’s prepare our hearts for the next season. 

“Only trust me. Only trust me. Only trust me now. I can save me. I can save me. I can save me now.” This how I should probably be singing the hymn Only Trust Him if I were completely honest with myself at all times.  Proving the old adage true that church is full of hypocrites (just like every other organization who has human members) I continue to choke out the truth I want so badly to live. Besides, even my 7 year old could easily reprimand me with Word of God I have so faithfully taught her. 

Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. Proverbs 3:5

Proverbs 3:5 is such a simple verse. Its words are elementary. They contain no double meaning. There is no secret prophetic message to interpret. It is just an imperative, that many kindergarteners memorize perfectly in one sitting.

It is the simplest command, but it eludes me. It makes my brain war with my heart. Trust in the Lord with all my heart? What does that look like? Lean not unto my own understanding? How on earth can I do that?  I mean I know God is worthy of trust, but I’ve got trust issues, and He knows it. And so do I.

Honestly, is there anyone who doesn’t have trust issues? I used to erraneously think that those of you blessed with stability in your early years would not have the burden of doubts and fears that plague me. In fact, for a while many had me fooled. But, now and then their trust issues would surface. I have been shocked to see trust issues as deeply rooted as mine from those planted in seemingly solid ground. And those truly accustomed to calm waters on the sea of life are totally rocked by the inevitable storms. They stagger around because they have not acquired their sea legs yet. 

Welcome to the club of the distrusting. To be human is to struggle with trust. Now how do we get off this blasted ship? By jumping overboard, of course.

In all thine ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths. Proverbs 3:6

Despite all my trust issues, I must admit, I am more of Peter than a Nathaniel. Peter knew Who he was following with his first look at the Savior. Nathaniel had to be given a sign. Peter is loud and proud. We rarely heard a word from Nathaniel. Peter would rather be wrong than left behind under a tree or in a sinking ship. Like Peter, I am always diving into the sea to reach my Savior, but usually get distracted in the middle of my endeavor. Peter and I get into trouble is when we fail to acknowledge Him. As long as we choose to cling to Jesus, He will hold our hands whether walking the stormy sea, preaching to thousands, or being led to our own crucifixion. 

Trusting God is hard. It hurts to follow the God/Man acquainted with sorrows. Acknowledging Him means throwing out all our reasons to go our own way. That hurts, too: It bruises our pride, and wounds our intellect. It can make us appear as absolute fools to the entire world. It leaves us open to criticism, because what we are dong makes no sense to anyone else. Even other believers may ridicule us. But, what is the alternative? Will choosing our own path bring us happiness? 

Be not wise in thine own eyes:  Fear the Lord and depart from evil.  Proverbs 3:7

Perhaps for a season we will experience “happiness” if we go our own way. There is much self-satisfaction in following our own hearts, and attaining what we want. It is the American way. But, what we will lack is the joy of putting Christ and others first. We will miss out on the peace of God that passes all understanding. Our own wisdom will be our own undoing. We humans do not know what the next minute will bring, let alone the next day, month, year, or decade. God knows all. His ways are higher. The psalmist boldly said, “The Lord will perfect that which concerned have me: Thy mercy, O Lord, endureth for ever . . .” (Psalms 138:8). Truly, He knows the right path for each of us.

It shall be health to thy navel, and marrow to thy bones. Proverbs 3:8

We, mortals, do not have the capacity to understand what is good for us. If left to ourselves we would be like my 4 year old: We would choose to eat and cake ice cream for every meal. Our flesh craves sweet things. We want a life of ease and contentment. SPOILER ALERT: There is no life filled with ease and contentment. And IF there was such a life to be had we would miss the thrill of victory of over life’s battles, the joy of sacrificial giving, and the love of that comes only from a common bond of suffering. This is life, friends, and it is not to be compared to the passing fulfillment of our fleshly desires. 

So here I go again. I have already jumped my sinking ship, and am fixing my eyes on the Sea Walker. No, I do not need a life jacket, and the life boats sensibly left long ago. Yes, you probably will once again see me sinking in the waves. But my hope is not is the arm of man: It is firmly placed in the pierced hands of my Jesus. My soul trusts in the Lord. He will help my distrusting heart and unbelieving head.

Which hope we have as anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast, which entereth into that within the veil. Hebrews 6:19