Learning Life

Getting life from God's Word is vastly freer than anyone's formulation of how to get it.

"The trees of the LORD are full of sap" Ps. 104:16

Mary was a young woman famous for learning at the feet of Jesus.  She makes it sound easy.  For me learning has not always been easy.  When I was a teenager my parents had big expectations that I do well in college and outside of school I was subject to daily studies and written and verbal comprehension tests.  I didn't handle it well, and as I grew up my attitude toward learning worsened.  I felt so much pressure that by the time I found my own place on campus in college, I remember opening up a textbook and I could not even read a sentence.  I just stared at the page.  All I felt was stress when I looked at a book.  I graduated college without reading for tests with a 2.4 GPA.

In spite of near failure at college it was in that time that I became a follower of Jesus Christ.  After graduating I accidentally joined a cult who told me I was not saved.  I needed to find truth in the Bible for myself.  I spent the next three years trying to understand the nature of baptism and salvation.  I thought I had answers on paper.  However I got something more out of all that searching.  It was by the life-giving experience of receiving love and restoration through His power and presence in His Word -- I noticed -- I finally enjoyed learning.  Jesus changed me!  For years I failed to identify who He is in relation to me and what it would do to me now.  Why didn't I perceive what He was going to do?  Later I went into the pre-nursing curriculum for a year and everything was different.  I studied anatomy and physiology and got the highest score in about half of the exams.  My attitude toward books transformed in the turning leaves of scriptures.

Mary had a true love for Jesus and meditated deeply before Him.  She was praised for choosing the "better" thing in receiving the truth, because it was better than her sister Martha's attempts to earn God's intimacy through works. She attempted to be a captive listener, but I wonder if she really believed what she "learned." When their brother Lazarus died in John chapter 11 I would have thought that Mary would be first to understand that Jesus wants to give life right now, not just final resurrection from the dead. Mary didn't greet Jesus when He arrived "too late."  She was only grieving.  Consequently Jesus did not test her faith.  She sat on the sidelines as an onlooker.  Though Mary failed to anticipate what Jesus was going to do, she was so grateful afterward she poured all her wages on His feet. She finally identified Him correctly; that believing in Jesus was the same as believing in the presence of God.

To Martha's credit, she was a woman of action and she rightly interpreted Jesus through those lenses. Now she understood what Jesus would do for her and she applied her less-intensive base of scripture to trust in God's power. "But even now I know that whatever you ask of God, God will give You," she said to our Lord (Jn. 11:22).  If the Father has given Himself to Jesus, then Jesus has given Himself to us.  Jesus' rebukes always fell to strengthen Martha: "Did I not say to you that if you would believe you would see the glory of God?" (Jn. 11:40).

Jesus prayed out loud so that all would believe that the Father has sent the Son.  It is through this amazing abiding relationship that Jesus showed He was God's only begotten heir, the first of many sons to come (Heb. 1:2, 2:10).  Jesus was God and also With God from eternity and He came to us as such (Jn 1:1).  When he prayed concerning Lazarus to the Father He showed us the intimacy of the Trinity and therefore displayed how approachable He is to us all.  Identifying with another is integral to the image of God.  When we identify with one another in the Body, we imitate Christ (1 Jn. 4:17, 5:1).  We reflect Christ's image of the God-Man who was identified as With God; we also see the glory of God in our circumstances (Jn. 17:22-23; 14:13; 15:7-8).

Believing in Jesus is to trust Him to affect me because of who He is. Though I regret my GPA I have lasting joy over God's life-giving transformation in me.  He will continue to do wonders I don't even dream of asking if only I abide in greeting Him and His people.  He has glorified Himself in this small way of granting a love to learn.  I believe that those reading here can identify many of their own experiences of Jesus giving life.  Whether you are like Mary and are praised for learning or like Martha who was ready to see God's power, may we continue as one Body to encourage each other when in our human imperfections we miss the holy mark of receiving life right now by eyes of faith.  God is with us -- grow deep.

A Faithful Witness: 150 Years

photograph of the former church front

Salem First Baptist Church in Oregon's capital city is celebrating its 150th year of incorporation. This season it will be celebrating its "sesquicentennial." The upcoming weekend, November 20 - 22nd there will be three days of exciting events.

The celebration kicks off on Friday evening, 6 pm. Former members from around the country are planning to arrive. U.S. Senator Mark O. Hatfield, once a bible teacher at Salem First, has been invited as well as our state Governor and other elected officials. CBA churches from the Willamette Valley have been sent an invitation as well.

The history of the church in the Pacific Northwest begins with the story of a delegation of Nez Perces Native Americans who traveled to St. Louis to find Captain William Clark, some twenty-five years after his famous expedition to the Pacific. They requested of him to follow through with his assurances that men would follow after Clark to teach them about God. The news of this encounter excited many evangelical Christian churches in New England. They quickly sent out a call, "who will go?"

Jason Lee was the first Christian missionary to the Oregon Territory, and he held Methodist services in the Willamette Valley (Salem) in 1834. That same year (1843) in which Jason Lee was recalled to missionary headquarters in New York, the first Baptists arrived in Oregon Territory. Baptist exploration to establish a permanent place of worship in Salem began as early as November 1850. On December 29th, 1859, Salem First Baptist's beginnings were recorded.

The weekend of celebration kicks off on Friday, November 20th at 6 pm. Beth Lambright will be sharing a Spiritual History of Oregon, and the church's cornerstone will be removed and presented via video. Reception to follow.

On Saturday, Nov. 21st a barbershop quartet and a dance group will perform, and the church's historic stained glass windows and the bell will be on display. Various historical exhibits will be open between 10 am - 7 pm. Oral history sessions, sword drills, vintage games, and a butter churning demonstration will be held.

On Sunday, Nov. 22nd former members and staff will be recognized in the identical morning services. A reunion choir will sing. Old fashioned cinnamon rolls and fruit will be concurrently served in the Community Life Center during both services and the historical exhibits will be open for viewing. RESCUE will be in concert at 6 pm.

On December 2, 1984, during SFB's 125th anniversary, Senator Hatfield spoke, "First Baptist still stands on the corner of Liberty and Marion in downtown Salem. It still proclaims the same gospel message that I heard as a boy of ten. In a world that has changed so much in my lifetime, it is a great comfort to know that."

For more information, please visit:

Salem First Baptist Church

Also you may wish to visit two websites I've created related to this event:

Salem First Baptist Church Sesquicentennial Celebration

Reconstructing Jason Lee

Education verses God

I've been having some pleasant discussions with my dad in the last year or so. I've explained to him some of the things I am interested in, and I'm surprised to report this, but, he gets it. In fact it appears to me that I must have gotten this way of assessing situations from him, because as I tell him things I am thinking, he's thinking right alongside me in the way that I would do it. Cool. He's even told me some amazing stories of how he has used his intelligence for serving others. Some he's told me not to publish, and that's not an issue of course. But some are just dang cool. Like how he attended the national conference for the FBI and he was asked to stand in recognition amongst hundreds for the framework he created post 9/11. I never knew that.

There's lots of stuff I never knew about my dad. I'm really only beginning to hear about them. He's finally moved home, and I'm an adult. He never shared them before. He wouldn't do that, and I see why now. It would only overwhelm me as a teen, as if I could never measure up. That was a wise kindness I can see looking back. Instead, he tells me things recently like "You can do anything you decide to do." "You are a woman but that has no bearing on your ability." He really believes these things, and I, well, I know I'm at least blessed to hear them, even if I am not sure if I should believe them entirely. I am his firstborn of two daughters; no sons, but he'd tell me gender is irrelevant to potential. I'm certain I'm not as smart as he's telling me.

As we smile and laugh along because we are both discovering that we approach problems in exactly the same fashion, he says something I haven't heard in a long, long time. With a pang he says,

"You could have gone to school...."

I did go to school and graduate at Oregon State. But that's not what he means by "going to school." He means an Ivy League like where he went; Wharton (ranked #1) and the University of Pennsylvania (ranked #4). Little does he know that "going to school" is the very thing that God has been putting in my heart... lately. Instead of agreeing, I still cringe. Why? His idealism of school has always driven me to an oppositional idealism.

When I was 12 he started telling me how important it was to be ambitious and achieve my own Ph.D. He made me read and give speeches every day of my life and read college textbooks. My grades were decent, but the attitude behind the GPA was deteriorating.

"Don't befriend people outside your race."

3.95

"If you get an A, that doesn't mean you learned anything in my eyes."

3.86

"There's not much chance a Ph.D. student is going to lower themselves to marry someone with just a master's."

3.78

"You can't spend any time with others because your grades aren't good enough."

3.71

"After-school clubs are for successful students who are getting straight As."

3.65

"The kind of people who live around here aren't of any positive influence on you."

3.59

Where was the meaning? Where was the purpose. It was so empty of life. I hated school. It did not define who I was or measure my value as a person. These things were obvious to me, but, my father couldn't understand. I decided as soon as I left home, my number one ambition was to forever dwell among people who valued people. As if all people are inherently priced at an inestimable value, regardless how unschooled they might be.

God was softening my heart, I can see looking back. This was the circumstance that humbled me to listen to Christianity, and receive Jesus by believing upon Him through hearing the gospel. I wondered about this God who demonstrated relationship based on the sacrificed blood of the Savior.

The first thing I read in the new testament beyond the gospels was 1 Corinthians, beginning in chapter one.

It said,

For it is written:


“I will destroy the wisdom of the wise,
And bring to nothing the understanding of the prudent.”

Where is the wise? Where is the scribe? Where is the disputer of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of this world? For since, in the wisdom of God, the world through wisdom did not know God, it pleased God through the foolishness of the message preached to save those who believe. For Jews request a sign, and Greeks seek after wisdom; but we preach Christ crucified, to the Jews a stumbling block and to the Greeks foolishness, but to those who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. Because the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men.

I became God's that day. He wrote this especially for me, to confirm the journey we'd already begun. I was officially through with courting the wise. He was telling me in this passage that it was fully right to continue to value God so highly that it could, should, cost me what the world thinks should be learned to become significant.

For you see your calling, brethren, that not many wise according to the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble, are called. But God has chosen the foolish things of the world to put to shame the wise, and God has chosen the weak things of the world to put to shame the things which are mighty; and the base things of the world and the things which are despised God has chosen, and the things which are not, to bring to nothing the things that are, that no flesh should glory in His presence.

"It's okay, child. Come, follow me... and participate in the wisdom that no man can deny because it is Mine."

I haven't looked back since. The blessings have been real. I've have no regret in the absence of continued education... till this year. Do I really want to go to school? It's so not me. It speaks many "wrong" things to me that I could have sworn 1 Cor 1 taught me ten years back. I don't even know for what I would take seminary classes. God is not showing me that.

I am afraid of my heart. What if, while enjoying learning, I oust God's values? What if somehow it becomes more important to me than people? But "He keeps my foot from slipping." I know what kind of God it is that saved me and called me, who will also keep me. He is the Savior who could have ascended, dressed in royal robes, to sit on the throne, but did the opposite. He came as a mere man, and just gave his time. He sat in dirt and listened to the sorts of things other people really wanted to talk to Him about. His comfort was to dwell with the ones who knew they knew nothing. Jesus' ministry was paramount, successful, and the glory of God spread.

Rather surprisingly this describes not only the way of the Savior, but it sounds a lot like my dad's ways as well. Hmpf. The LORD is trying to open my eyes.

Thank you LORD for reminding me through these times that your ultimate interest is in people, not idealism or intellectualism. Not only are you confirming 1 Corinthians 1, but you are showing me that I should not stray to serve your values as if I were an idealist or intellectualist. Let me remember how significant the people of this world are for you, that you came and gave everything just to initiate restoration. Even when I think I know what is in lack with another person, your value of them denies me the full exercise of my provisional understandings.

LORD your greatest preference is to use those who are nothing, and God, you are everything.

A Nugget of Wisdom

Ps. 141:5

Let the righteous strike me;
It shall be a kindness.
And let him rebuke me;
It shall be as excellent oil;
Let my head not refuse it.

Rev. 3:19

As many as I love, I rebuke and chasten. Therefore be zealous and repent.

I had a conversation yesterday with my dad. We were talking about other things, but he brought out some insight from his career. It was out of the context of post-9/11, when the FBI had to adjust its orientation in part. Before, they had only been concerned with investigations which is collecting information about a crime that has already taken place. Now they needed to collect intelligence, to predict and prevent terrorism before it takes place. They had no framework and no program and they hired my dad out of retirement because of his background in intelligence, and he built for them a program from scratch.

In intelligence,

• There are things you know that you know
• There are things you know that you do not know
• And there are things you do not know that you do not know

what if He was done telling His story?

Saturday and Monday I was with my two dear girlfriends, Jenn and Julie. Jenn has been back in Oregon for several weeks because her mother was dying. In fact, Jenn has three mothers; her biological, her step and her foster mother. It was her step-mother and she was dying of lung cancer just as my grandma did. She actually passed away ten days after my grandma.

I was amazed at the similarity of the various concerns and changes that took place both during and after her death, as she told the story of her passing. Now she and her four siblings are trying to decide who gets what and prepare the house to be sold. But this is Jenn's childhood home and parting with it, will be a difficult task. So she is spending her remaining time in Oregon, busy, working on fixing up the place. Busy is an understatement; she has a seven week old newborn, and three other children ages five and under.

The fantastic stand alone peaks dotting the farmland near Lebanon

I drove down to her mother's home in Lebanon, here in the Willamette Valley, to help with the painting of the exterior and the care of the children. There was plenty to do especially when I added my three children. But we had time to talk about things. It has now been a year since her own grandma and tragically her foster sister suddenly passed away as well. Her foster dad had to step down from being an elder to process this shock, which was a huge loss to the church. But Pastor Joe Lombardi is still preaching as their interim pastor. And I am glad for it because he is such a loving and godly man. I certainly feel compassion on that family. Dr. R. preached at family camp, and Jenn enjoyed his sermon and prayed him through it. I forget that he pastored a small church somewhere in the Valley, here, and I wonder which one it was?

She was delighted to hear my encouraging memories. While we were all in college ten years ago I once stayed in this home for the weekend and it was in the living room that Jenn asked me, with that heart of obedience, "Michele, we are going to church tomorrow, and since you don't know any worship songs, I was hoping we could learn a couple so that you can participate." So she taught me the song "Lord I Lift Your Name On High." Then she pulled out "It is Well With My Soul" and asked me "Have you heard the story why this was written?" I had not, and she told me the whole thing to my amazement. I imagine both of us silently appreciated that hymn once more as we scraped and painted.

Four years later Jenn got married. I remember I stayed with her step-mom for a day and we talked personally. Even then she had been fighting against cancer and she had become intimate with Christ through it. In fact she was so attentive and normal toward me, that I remember leaving thinking, I need an older woman mentor who will invest in my life. That was now six years ago. It is because of her step-mom that I sought and found my mentor in Christ who is such to this day.

But... what if this was all there was? What if He were done telling the story of His abundant goodness through my circumstances? What if all the splendor I'd know of Him, was in my past? What if He grew tired of working with me? The Lord gave His Word at today's beginning moment:

"...persecuted, but not abandoned...." 2 Cor 4:9

Funny, how the smallest pieces of scripture speak the loudest, isn't it? The troubles I have now are not signs of being abandoned. On the contrary! They are part of His redemptive design. It is a verse which will comfort my dear bereaved friend.

Blessing came through recalling things which are both her and mine origination stories. I certainly find God's power working through being exactly where He has placed me; here in the Willamette Valley. It is a place that is known for having the lowest attendance in church in the entire country (only five percent attend any sort of church). Knowing this makes me excited for the sake of the gospel. These are the moments and events and people that are creating me into the person God has passioned me to become for His glory. No - He is not done telling the story.

May His will be done.

Have a joyful and celebrant Independence Day holiday!

a letter by grandma

This is a letter my grandma sent to my mom and dad sixteen years ago. I remember I was fifteen and my dad was worried my grandma was being naive. Turns out it all was exactly as she wrote in this letter. It is her true story of rejoined love. Bill and Grandma spent the next ten plus years together, and he was my surrogate grandpa. Bill passed away as a believer about three years ago, and grandma was ushered into the presence of Jesus this morning at 4 am.

June 5, 1993


Hi Rick and Clare,

I have a wonderful idea for a book you could write on a lovely romantic love story. It could even be sold for a movie as it is unique and touches your heart.

During World War II an English ship was being built for the British Navy. While waiting for this ship to be built, two sailors of the crew had their first shore leave in this American port. They went to a club called "The White Ensign" to spend a few hours in dancing and relaxation. While there, they met with two girls who danced with them and invited them home to have dinner with their families the next day. One of the sailors (who was 26) played a guitar and sang with the girl at her home. They were attracted to each other and this relationship carried on for several months.


When the ship was ready to depart, there was a farewell dance held aboard ship. They had to say their last goodbye and the ship sailed away to join the British Navy in the Battle of the Atlantic against the German U-Boats. These two young people knew their worlds were far apart and they must part even though they cared for each other. The girl married a U.S. soldier when the war was almost over. The British sailor married the girl back home. They both raised families but always remembered their youth and the time they spent together during war time.


Fifty years went by, the American girl's husband died leaving her disconsolate and unhappy. About the same time the British sailor's wife also died and to overcome his grief he decided to travel. His thoughts turned to the U.S. where he thought he might try to trace the whereabouts of the girl he met once, in the hope she was still alive and he would be able to find her. In fact due to his efforts he discovered she was living. He contacted an organization who contacted her and a meeting was arranged and they met once more.


The happy ending to this story is that they realize their love is still alive and they want to be close to each other. Through it's their senior years, they felt young, happy and content - no longer lonely and sad. Strangely their love of music, art and other hobbies made their bond stronger. They planned to travel to meet their respective relatives. A trip back to his home in England for a few months was included. She had always longed to see England - why not make it now?

All their friends and relatives think this is a lovely story. Being alone in senior years is so sad.

Can you believe this American girl is your mother, Rick? I really do think this should be a book or a movie. Fifty years is a long time to endure and this makes it special. There can be more than one love in a lifetime and life is for the living.

I hope you don't mind my way to tell you. I felt it would be a shock any way I tell you.

I'll be 74 this year. Bill will be 74 soon - we feel our remaining years should be fulfilling. We've met Evelyn (my sister-in-law), Mary, and most of all my relatives on my side (who approve). We will soon leave for England for a visit and meet all of Bill's relatives. Can you call or write as my ticket is purchased (and his) and dated June 21st out of New Jersey after visits at his step-son's in the U.S. along the way. We must get Bill's English cottage ready to rent as he will come back with me to be near. I'll be gone from this home until October 4th when I'll return to New Jersey and drive back here. Plans are to visit more of his step-son's and daughters in Memphis, Tenn., see the sights there, as well as in England.

Bill says you are gifted in writing, he helped me proofread your book you wrote.

Love, Mom & Bill

Most of the details about my grandma were left out in her own letter because she was attempting to tell "a story" to my dad, hopefully not too obviously about herself. There are some details about her that should be mentioned. She was one of the "Rosie Riveters," women who were hired in wartime to help the effort. She worked on building "Liberty Ships" and aircraft carriers.


President Franklin D Roosevelt told the country that these ships would bring liberty to Europe because of their speed, outrunning the German submarine U-boats.


They also built aircraft carriers at the Oregon Shipbuilding Company, located on Swan Island at the confluence of the Willamette River to the Columbia. They built ships faster here in Oregon than any other of the nine national emergency shipbuilding sites. My grandma worked on building these ships on Swan Island through her early twenties.


Bill still played the guitar all these years later, and he was quite delightful to listen to. He encouraged my grandma to learn the piano again. They formed a band called "The Swinging Daddies" and went around for years performing at senior centers. Bill was a gift to my grandma and all of us. He helped bring Jesus Christ into my grandma's life. I have some photos of grandma and Bill that I will upload, and I plan to work on this post through time and make it better.

Name's Sake

It is a lie to think that God prefers the outward more than the inward. I used to think that to be obedient in my own walk was much more difficult, than the task of speaking truth into someone's life. Now I find the reverse is true. I find it a relief to be free to meditate and grow up my own personal affairs in Christ.

My husband and I met while on a college group mission trip from Corvallis, Oregon, to Provo, Utah, in the spring of 2000. Yes: we were going to go and evangelize to Mormons. He and I got to know each other just a little bit on that trip, but he was a godly and quiet man and I wanted to be a part of his life. The trip was highly conflicting to me. Not only did I not know any single person on the trip (except my older woman mentor), but Provo was my childhood home. My mom was a retired Mormon and I was just barely aware that I was a Christian. I realized while on the bus somewhere in Idaho, that we were going there to tell them that their religion was false, and I thought, "Could this really be true?"

I walked away thinking I knew something about what the bible had to say regarding salvation. Ha! In the summer of 2002 I began talking online in two main areas: LDS, and those exiting a damaging cult I had accidentally also got caught up in. I chose a screen nickname: "Sanctification." I had been hunting around for a good one, not any fad. This was back in the days when anonymity online was crucial, do you remember that? It wasn't that long ago I suppose. I still prefer to be called "Sanc." I'm not quite arrived in comfort with being called "Michele" when online, which free grace has done to me, but I suppose that the world keeps getting smaller and smaller. The online reputation and real life's reputation best be one.

I could barely understand the definition when I picked it! There is a magnitude there in my nickname that keeps cutting me to the heart the farther I walk with God. I didn't want to be arrogant. To me, when I chose that name, all I was thinking is, "In the end, none of this will matter unless Christ is here with me." A couple years later I began a fascination with the doctrine of sanctification by faith alone, so I can't say I planned that either.

Time to get serious. Satan wants to take me down. It certainly is a tall order: sanctification. I didn't always, but now I am committed to make no resting place for the flesh. Psalm 15:

LORD, who may dwell in your sanctuary?
Who may live on your holy hill?

He whose walk is blameless
and who does what is righteous,
who speaks the truth from his heart

and has no slander on his tongue,
who does his neighbor no wrong
and casts no slur on his fellowman,

who despises a vile man
but honors those who fear the LORD,
who keeps his oath
even when it hurts,

who lends his money without usury
and does not accept a bribe against the innocent.
He who does these things
will never be shaken.

"May the LORD have his way in me, that I would please Him, that I would have the guts to draw lines I need to draw, that I would keep a Spiritual reign on my tongue, that there would be no hypocrisy in me, that I would not be deceived into establishing disordered loves."

OSU Beavers!

Okay, normally sports don't inspire blog posts, but my alum is going to host the civil war against the evil ducks!!

The special chant from the student section for Oregon Ducks

I was there, during the 1998 civil war double overtime! I was out there with them when the crowd rushed the field because they thought it was won in the first overtime, and it took 15 minutes to get everyone off to finish the game. I was there when they rushed the second time, and everyone went down with jackknifes and tore up the football field turf for a souvenir. Where they climbed up on the field goal posts and started swinging on them so hard that they toppled over!

See the fans piled thick with players on the sidelines?



The fans kind of stumble slowly forward over the wall and onto the field. That's not because they aren't excited; no -- they've been standing in the rain and the cold for five hours and no nourishment after the sun has long been gone. The legs, the legs -- OH! Plus they just got practically beaten back by the game officials to clear the field after the first overtime.

I mean, we used to really stink. I remember going to games and we'd never win, and I'd hear the stories of how we haven't won so much for decades.

A couple of guy friends and I stumbled out there and carved their piece of turf, heavy, wet and muddy, then we all hauled it like a dead carcass several blocks off-campus where it was divvied up and hung as a mantle over the doorway.

It was a cathartic shedding. The fans knew it was the last game to be played on the stadium's turf, ever. They were going to tear it up after that and replace it with astroturf. That was the game that ended our losing streak. Ten years later, we're Rose Bowl hopefuls! (And yes, I know what that means, it's the best place to go to win a special extra-game at the end of the season.)

I think even the mascots had a little too long unscripted time before the game, they got in a fist fight too.... :O That was rather interesting....

It wouldn't be much of a stretch to say No. 17 Oregon State is preparing for the biggest game in school history as No. 18 Oregon visits Corvallis for the "Civil War." A win would send the Beavers to the Rose Bowl for the first time since the 1964 season. But they'll get plenty of resistance from the Ducks, who want to enhance their position in the Pac-10 pecking order.

-USA Today

OSU Oregon State fight fight fight!

Mission Statement

One of my best friends Julie is going through an amazingly rich time of self-investment. In a class for believers, she has been asked to think upon her life history and the themes threading through it. What a fascinating little project! It got me to thinking of the major themes of my life. I have a "life-verse;" it is above as the banner across this blog site.

Below is a rough draft. I remember writing about the symbolism of the "fence" back in 2005 somewhere in a blog post... I'll have to look around for it later when I have more time.

I was a nobody, when Christ saved me. I had nothing going for me that was noteworthy. But Christ gave me hope, and gave me a rich inheritance. Now, I live in a home literally behind a white picket fence. I could prop my feet up. But I cannot forget where I came from. Not everybody lives behind a white picket fence like me. So I do what I can to stand alongside the unlovlies, the unlikelies, the down and out, and when I do I see that both I and them are magnifying our hope in the grace of God. I spend my inheritance in Christ, my reputation, my voice, my money, my time, to lift up the ones that have been left behind in the dust. I'm not afraid of the loss, because I see who I once was and who they once will be because of Jesus Christ, just like I am now. I am attracted to them, and to the surprise of some I can see how God is blessing them. And they also bless me! I love the scriptures, I believe in them and they burn like a fire deep within me, because they are our only source of righteousness: His grace. The more heavily grace becomes the only thing to hope in, the greater the glory He receives. I love to be in that place. Jesus Christ came to dwell in comfort with those who didn't deserve to be dwelled alongside in comfort. He calls us to be like Him, a living theophany of the invisible, immortal, all wise and HOLY God.

I encourage others to try this out too!

Mercy

I've been thinking a lot about that spiritual gift called "mercy." It takes all forms of servanthood, but is universally characterized by immediate response: someone needs help, and who will go?

It's enough to say that my life was touched by tragedy, but that wasn't the end of the story. Things return to normal but there is a part that will never be calm again. Vestigal hypervigilance. The foundational need for human fellowship, shifts. It evolves. The need to rise to action is advancing a sizeable element of the soul. It ultimately will confine a typical desire for community.

I looked for a man among them who would build up the wall and stand before me in the gap on behalf of the land so I would not have to destroy it, but I found none.

That's what YHWH writes in the Old Testament. Jesus stood in the gap, for me. And that makes me want to stand in the gap too.

A few nights ago I watched a new movie starring Jodie Foster called "The Brave One". She said "I never knew how people lived with fear. Then it touched me." In the movie she works through tying the shock of the unreal with the real, to regain her senses. The lens of life shifts for her from the things the self needs, to the restitution needed for others. I thought it was amazing to watch her wrestling with conscience down the road of individuality. In the movie the main character finds solution by handling a gun. I would be different here since I was consecrated by grace and truth. I perhaps choose the non-hypocritical tools of forgiveness and peace, and my weapon is the sword of the Spirit.

This post is nearing that something I've been trying to write about for a couple of years now.

I love to walk and drive the streets of my town, and listen to the leading of the LORD for whom it is that needs to be heard. It is just like a dancer who listens to the music, though I am not trained, not completely talented and flexible. But when the music is on, I make my on-the-spot choreography, advocating the sounds that can't be seen. I retreat to the sanctuary of my family and recharge, and refocus, and I am ready once again. I well love the life God has given to me.

Thank you, Jesus, for the cross.

Listening to: "Sanctuary," Rachel Lampa

A Milestone

I'm about to be turning thirty.

I pretty much dealt with it when I turned 27 -- that was close enough.

Does it make any difference?

I see some negatives.... For instance about a year ago I got a single gray hair on my temple. Now I have five. So I guess from here on out I'll be regularly "taking care of that." That's okay, though; who doesn't like to get away from the kids for three hours every few months? I'll call that a perk of being a thirty-something.

And, some positives. I was walking through Safeway today and Fred Meyer yesterday and, over the intercom both times I heard Mariah Carey's "Can't Let Go." Don't think I've heard it in ten years. It took over me and I was having a moment right there in the store. A resurrection of the heart of a... twelve year old? Wow. I've been noticing for a few years that the shopper's soundtrack is filled up with the likes of Toni Braxton, Celine's early unknown stuff, Madonna -- my music. Now I am the generation that wields influence of buckage they most want.

Season Three of "La Femme Nikita" was a Christmas gift and while watching an episode I had to count how long it has been since I first saw it aired on tv. This time I counted nine. The series started six months after I graduated high school. And, as I was pregnant, newly married and reclining in a chair in our first home I remember holding a box of kleenex & watching the finale. I will probably always think of how old I am by counting years post-Nikita. Both she and I were thrown into harsh circumstances together at the same time since the very first episode. She was pulled right in off the streets with an ultimatum:

MADELINE: "They seem to think you have potential."
NIKITA: "Who's 'they'? Who are you?"
MADELINE: "I'm Madeline. 'They' are Section One. They own you now."
NIKITA: "Didn't know I was for sale."
MADELINE: "Please; sit down. If you want to live, it has to be on their terms. So, please, do sit down. ... Look at yourself. Admire yourself. See your beauty? You can learn to shoot. You can learn to fight. But there's no weapon as powerful as your femininity. ... We're family, now, Nikita."



I'm thankful for the years of comfort that have passed between me and that stage in my life. I have three beautiful children and a kind husband. I have so much to be thankful for and I am thankful for them. They have made me fulfilled. I guess that makes me one of the lucky ones.

I am afraid to grow old. But as long as I keep following after the places Grace leads me, I know my essence is preserved.

"The kind of person I wanna be"

This may sound odd to some readers, but one of my most favorite movies is... "Dirty Dancing" starring Jennifer Gray and Swaze. I watched it every day for a whole summer when I was ten years old, and it left an imprint on who I wanted to become in life. Yes, it's probably not one of the best movies for a ten year old girl to watch, but, you have to understand that I grew up in an unchurched family. Remember that the world's standards, given with a few obvious restraints, are the standards by which things are considered normal.

I had a kinship with the girl who, like me, had her life charted out in academic accomplishment before her and, she was handed a philosophy of restraining help just to those who were in the same class as she. She abandoned those limiting rules because she saw real, human need. Even at ten I could understand this underlying point behind what happened to her in the movie.

This clip is of the last dance, and my favorite parts are not the typical romantic stuff. It's the little speech he gives at the very beginning and then, in the middle, how he goes to bring up his friends from the back of the auditorium to join in the performance. He had been practicing with them all year but wasn't allowed to perform it, and by bringing them up to the front, he made a statement of their worth and added to the overall effect, of course.



Oh, I forgot to add that it also taught me something else that became distinctly a part of who I am: how to dance. It's all couple dancing in this movie but by listening and watching it became very simple to see that dancing means just listening to the music to know how to move. It was a breakthrough to making it an art.