Lost & Found

When the rain falls, and it some days will
Then the pavement under my feet,
Sparkles silver and gold, in reflected light
That I otherwise wouldn’t have seen

And when the storm comes and the strong wind blows
I will bow my head to push through
And every step that I take, I will watch and pray
And be sure my foothold is true

And in the dry place, in the wilderness
When Your Word seems so far away
Oh I will think of my life and I will bless Your name
For Your promises never have failed

And when the night falls at the end of days
I will lift my eyes to the heavens
And we will shine like the stars, for eternal days
In Your presence forever and e’er


Jesus, don't You keep me from that storm
I want to walk that sacred ground
For You Are master of it all
And I am but a lost and found

-Robin Mark / East of the River-


"For I know the plans that I have for you,' declares the LORD, `plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope."

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God's Call Waiting

"Be faithful where you are while you wait for God's call..."
by John Ortberg

I keep a small rock on my desk with a single word painted on it: naviget. I cherish that rock. My wife gave it to me during a spell that was dry for me and hard for us; when I felt like my past was crumbling and I was not sure what the future held. And if you don't know Latin, keep reading; you'll eventually find out what it means.


I first came across this word in a wonderful article by theologian Gilbert Meilander called "Divine Summons." The article was about the notion of calling and vocation, which have long been vexing subjects for me, because I wondered if I would ever get one.

I have been a pastor for a long time now. When I was ordained in the Baptist church, one of the questions I knew was coming was, "Tell us about your 'call.'" In our tradition, if you became a pastor, you had to have a "call": a mystical, vivid, (but non-charismatic) experience in which you have an inner sense/compulsion/Voice (but never quite audible) that tells you to become a preacher.

"Only become a preacher if you cannot do anything else," the old-timers would say knowingly. And many people followed that advice, which may be why the competency bar for preachers got set pretty low.

I come from a long line of pastors. My great-grandfather, Robert Bennet Hall, got his call working in a small grocery store more than a century ago. He had run away from the orphanage where he grew up and married a grocer's daughter. He was sweeping out the storeroom when he got the call. My brother-in-law got the call when he was working in a grocery store in our old hometown of Rockford, Illinois. Possibly my problem was that I never worked at a grocery store.

Because I never got that kind of call, I could have done other things besides be a pastor. Probably not too well, but I could have done them. I was open to a call. I asked for one. But Heaven was silent. I had to figure out what to do myself. Being a pastor seemed like a good fit for what I understood of my gifts, and it seemed worth the effort.

But I never got marching orders. Partly, I think, it may have been because God knows that I will grow much more as a person if I have to figure things out and exercise judgment and make a decision and accept responsibility than if I just got a postcard and followed directions. Another reason may be that I don't think God separates people into "pastor" groups that have to get calls and "non-pastor" groups that are call-free.

I have worked at churches where the expectation was that if you were on staff, you had "the call," places where everyone sensed that if they were not working at that church they would be guilty of disobedience. I never got that kind of call. I don't think it's necessary or (sometimes) even healthy. I think calling is much more God's business, often expressed through the voice of his community. I think someone can have a fabulous calling without knowing everything about it.

I also think that the whole language around calling can lead churches and pastors to be less honest than the people we serve. Presidents fire cabinet members. Football coaches switch schools to make more money or lead bigger programs. But in a church, we have a hard time talking honestly about why staff people leave. We paper over toxic cultures and power struggles with sanctified spin: "He got a call from the Lord" or "I just had this restless sense in my spirit—I couldn't explain why."

Eventually, I quit pestering God about it. I decided he probably had good reasons to give me the level of information and direction that he gave me, and if he wanted to say any more, he would make it clear. Nevertheless, as I have gotten older, younger people interested in church ministry often talk to me about the notion of calling.

"Tell me about your call," a recent seminary grad once said. "I think I have the call, and I just hope I can last in ministry as long as you have." I was 45 at the time, but it made me feel very old.

When I came to Menlo Park, it was a by-now-familiar decision process. I did not sense God telling me to go or stay. My best understanding was that I was free to make the decision. I had been here for a couples of years when we had a bad weekend: staff departures, serious misbehavior, an ugly congregational meeting, budget problems—everything bad happened at once.

I had recently read Gordon MacDonald's book The Resilient Life, in which he talks about how his mom never finished what she started, and he was sobered by the possibility of having a "quitters gene." I had never thought of myself as a quitter, but I reflected on how I don't like being frustrated; how I can feel that life should come easily to me.

I was driving down Stanford Avenue one day when a thought came unbidden: John, take your being at this church as my call on your life. Don't waste energy asking if someone else could do the job better. Don't waste energy asking if some other place could be more fulfilling. If you put your hand to the plow and don't look back, you will grow in ways you otherwise never would.

And it was a strange moment, after almost 30 years of church ministry, to have a call in that more specific and mystical sense.

It hasn't been particularly romantic. Sometimes it's more of a pain in the neck. Which brings me back to the article by Meilander. He writes about how Aeneas, in Virgil's The Aeneid, has a divine summons to be the founder of Rome—"I am the man/whom heaven calls." But building Rome is not what Aeneas wants to do. He is forced to give up his love and his attachment to the past.

For a calling is very different than a quest for fulfillment. A calling, though we glamorize it, is not glamorous. It is a response to a summons. It is a kind of surrender. It is a willingness to die to the past and move to the future. C.S. Lewis wrote, "To follow the vocation does not mean happiness, but once it has been heard, there is no happiness for those who do not follow."

Aeneas does not want to leave his home to follow his calling; it means leaving old dreams and old loves. But there is a larger and better destiny to which he is called to submit. So Jupiter says of him, "That man should sail."

And he does. Sailing means embracing the pain of leaving behind what he thought was his comfort and fulfillment. It means trusting that somehow he is not just moving into the future; he is being led. It is Abraham leaving Ur for he knows not what. It is Moses leaving Egypt for a land he will never enter. It is Jesus walking the Via Dolorosa toward a hill he does not want to climb.

"That man should sail." It meant—a little like Jim Carrey in The Truman Show—it's better to have the faith to embrace reality with all its pain than to cling to the false comfort of a painless fantasy. That life and growth and meaning can come only in the risk of obedience. The future—even if it's hard—is better than nostalgia.

It meant that in leaving port there was something to sail to. It meant hope.

"That man should sail." I did. I have. I am. The phrase in Virgil is a single Latin word written on the rock my wife gave me in love and trust. The word sits on my desk each day to remind me: Naviget.

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Hurry Sickness

by Joanie Yoder, October 25, 2007, ODB

"Hurry up!" "We're late!" "You're too slow!" How often do impatient words crop up in our speech, revealing our fast-paced life? If we're not careful, we become people living in the fast lane, demanding quick arrivals and instant results. Stress experts call this "hurry sickness".

In Philippians 3, the apostle Paul's testimony of lifelong growth reminds us that Christian maturity can be encouraged but not hurried. In this book Overcomers Through the Cross, Paul Billheimer says that just as God takes time to make an oak tree, He takes time to make a saint. Christian growth is a life-long process.

Billheimer writes, "An unripe apple is not fit to eat, but we should not therefore condemn it. It is not yet ready for eating because God is not done making it. It is a phase of its career and good in its place."

Are you feeling impatient over your spiritual growth? Remember, God is not finished with you, nor does He expect to be until He calls you home. Make sure that your goal is to know Christ and to become more like Him. Then slowly but surely, under blue skies and stormy, He will bring you to maturity. It's His sure cure for the "hurry sickness."

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The Heart of Love and Charity

How "Mother" Louise Hunter turned a life of hardship into a mission of hope.
By Amy Adair

On a blustery February night in 1966, a sheriff rapped on Louise Hunter's door. Claiming the family of 16 was in violation of Racine, Wisconsin's public health code, he ordered the Hunters to vacate their two-bedroom house within 24 hours. With no money and no place to go, Louise started to pray.

A day later, there was another knock on the door. This time it was a local pastor who offered to sell the Hunter family an 18-room house for a dollar. Louise instantly knew it was a miracle. As thanks, she prayed that God would use her to help others in need. According to Louise, that's when God gave her a vision for a mission called Love and Charity.

"From that day on," Louise, who is known as Mother Hunter, says, "in my heart and in my mind, I wanted to help somebody."

Mother Hunter, who is now 72 years old, has devoted her life to helping the desolate and homeless. She has a keen understanding and gentle awareness of the needs of the poor, because poverty and pain have defined her own life.


A Life of Heartache and Grief
Born in Vicksburg, Mississippi, during the Great Depression, Mother Hunter was raised in a poor farming community and worked in the cotton fields. She grew up too fast, and by the time she was 20 she was unemployed and a single mother of three young children. Returning to her childhood faith, she prayed for a husband. She met a man named James Hunter. They married and eventually had 18 children together. Her marriage was tumultuous, filled with heartache and grief. In 1976 the Hunter's 6-year old son, Thomas, died in a house fire. Two years later, James was killed in a car accident.

"When James died, I said to the Lord, 'Why would you take him and leave me with all of these children?'" Mother Hunter recalls. "I've had many heartaches and pains, but God made a way."

Life was even harder for Mother Hunter after she lost her husband. Her family wanted her to move back to Mississippi so they could help her raise her children. But she could not turn her back on Love and Charity. So, she kept the doors open and continued helping those in need. Her kids literally grew up at the mission, helping out whenever they could.

Mother Hunter's relentless faith that Jesus Christ can heal any wound, no matter how deep, is the foundation for Love and Charity. "If you do not suffer, what can you tell somebody?" Mother Hunter says. "In order to make it to where I am today, I had to go through some pain and sorrow. But Jesus stayed with me."

Open Door to Healing
Hoping to share her unwavering faith with all who walk through the doors, Mother Hunter is determined to keep Love and Charity a faith-based mission. In fact, she has refused to accept any federal aid. Though it would relieve mounting financial hardships, doing so would mean that Mother Hunter could no longer require every guest to attend Bible studies and church services. So instead she relies on donated food, clothes, and money. "It's all about getting Jesus on the inside," Mother Hunter says. "My mission is set up so that people can come out of darkness and see the light. This is what Love and Charity is all about."

While Love and Charity's door is always open, those who wish to stay must adhere to Mother Hunter's strict rules. Not only do they have to attend the mission's church services, but for the first ten days they can only leave Love and Charity to help pick up donated food from local businesses. If needed, they must enroll in drug or alcohol rehabilitation. When they are physically able, they have to find a job, set up a bank account, and save money toward their own apartment. "There's no time limit when you come here," Mother Hunter says. "You can stay five minutes or five years. I let everyone know that I'm willing to help them."

Mind on Jesus
It's no exaggeration to say that Mother Hunter has impacted thousands of lives. She's fed hungry kids, helped people find shelter, and even brought people back from the brink of suicide. Mother Hunter says that it is all the power of the Holy Spirit, and she is simply following God's calling.

Her story was recently published in Love and Charity: The Life and Story of Louise Hunter and Love and Charity Homeless Shelter (Publish America), by Reverend Dennis James Woods. Woods, a close family friend of the Hunters and the founder and pastor of Power of the Holy Ghost Deliverance Ministries Inc., served at Love and Charity in 1993.

"The book brought tears to my eyes," Mother Hunter admits. "I could hardly believe one human being went through so much suffering. I only made it because I kept my mind on Jesus."

Love and Charity is more than Mother Hunter's life story; it is a powerful reminder of the reality of homelessness and poverty, says Woods. Both Mother Hunter and Woods pray that readers will feel led to reach out to those in need.

"Mother Hunter seems to have a aura of God," Woods says. "Her whole life has been devoted to this ministry and her community."

Mother Hunter's energy is endless. In the late 1990s she opened a sister shelter, Love and Charity II, in Memphis, Tennessee. She still begins her day at five o'clock in the morning—ready to greet anyone who comes to Love and Charity with a warm meal and an open heart.

"Love and Charity is a ministry," she says. "It's a hard ministry at times. People don't even realize that tonight somebody is sleeping outside. Somebody's child. So I try to do all I can."

Amy Adair is a freelance writer living in the Chicago area.
Copyright © 2007 by the author or Christianity Today International/Today's Christian magazine.
Click here for reprint information.

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Leggo My Leggings

(One of my favorite pieces of all time!)

My stirrup pants had too much giddyap and go!
Liz Curtis Higgs

The first time I saw a pair of leggings, they were on someone else's body—that of the Twiggy-sized teen seated next to me in a crowded doctor's office. With her huge t-shirt and long, red legs, she looked utterly charming and altogether comfy.

"Do they feel as good as they look?" I asked.
"You bet." She nodded emphatically, pinching a bit of fabric and stretching it out. "See? It springs right back. No sagging. No wrinkling."

Since my knees both sag and wrinkle, I was duly impressed with her Lycra-swathed limbs.


"What do you call them?"
"Leggings," she informed me, jumping to her feet when the receptionist called her name. "You oughta try 'em. They come in your size, too."

Cheeky.

I watched her go, wondering what sort of fashion statement my older-but-wider body might make in such a getup. Fire-engine red was out of the question, of course, but a nifty navy, a dove gray, a basic black—couldn't I pull that off? Especially if an oversized shirt fell well below my knees?

Well, well, well below.

When a favorite spring catalog arrived on my doorstep featuring leggings on page five—in my size!—I knew it was meant to be.

"Send me three pairs," I informed the woman taking my order by phone. "Black, gray, blue."
"Those colors are on back order, ma'am." Figures. "Until when?" I sighed.
"September. All we have in stock is red."

Uh-oh. I imagined my substantial thighs encased like firecrackers ready to explode. Or worse, like a pair of beefy summer sausages fresh from the grill.

I wanted to try a pair of leggings soooo badly, but red?

"They're on sale," the saleswoman tempted.
"Sold."
"Regular or stirrup?"
She had me there. "Stir what up?"

She explained that leggings came in ankle length or with a stirrup that slips over one's foot. "It prevents the pants from scooting up your leg." Was she suggesting my leggings could shrink into capri pants, then bike shorts, ending up as spandex underwear?
"Definitely stirrups," I decided. "One pair, my size, in red."

When my order arrived—in a #10 envelope—I slipped the leggings out of the package and held them up. They looked like something a child might wear. An especially small child. At Christmas. Still, that was my size printed on the label.

After wrestling them on, I was delirious with the results. They fit!

I quickly found an oversized, black-and-red t-shirt that almost reached my knees and matched perfectly. Just the thing for traveling, I decided. For the first time in a long time, I looked forward to my next out-of-town trip.

That fateful morning dawned sunny and cool—a legging kind of day if there ever was one. Dressed and packed, I faced the mirror one last time, hoping to quell a few nagging doubts. Were they too bright? Too tight? Did I look like I was headed for a pajama party? Whatever. I grinned at my reflection. "TWA, take me away."

Truth be told, I got a few odd looks at the ticket counter. Comfortable as I was, I had no intentions of fretting over their obvious gawking. The first leg (so to speak) of my trip was a breeze. When my plane landed in St. Louis, I bounded through the jetway and checked the monitor for my gate. Drat. The other end of the world. Ah, but with my zippy new duds, I'd be strolling in style, no?

Uh … no.

I started down the busy concourse with a carry-on bag in one hand, a bulging computer case in the other, and a mega-purse dangling from my shoulder. I picked up the pace when I heard the boarding announcement for my flight departing from Gate 33.

Without warning, disaster struck.

Maybe it was the speed with which I was traveling. Or my long-legged stride. Whatever the reason, with stirrups and gravity working against me, my leggings suddenly moved in the wrong direction: down.

The crotch dropped first. Silently, relentlessly, it started moving south. With both hands full, I was in no position to stop it. Anyway, a quick stop-and-yank would be beyond tacky. By Gate 10, the thing was halfway to my knees. Starting to panic, I slowed down. By Gate 15, I was on full-tilt duck walk. By Gate 19, it was more turtle-like than ducky. My spirits were sinking right along with my traitorous leggings. I fumed, mentally composing a letter to the manufacturer. "Dear Sirs: What goes up must not come down."

I checked my watch. Oh, no! Ten minutes! I checked my leggings. Oh, no! Ten more inches! By Gate 22, I was in deep trouble. The waistband was wrapped around my knees. The fabric that used to cover my knees circled my ankles. I was reduced to walking like a geisha girl, moving forward with mincing steps. Passengers hurried past me—yes, snickering—while I tried to look nonchalant. No easy task when your face matches your bright red leggings.

Make that anklings.

"Let them hold the plane," I muttered, pressing my luggage against my knees and heading for safety. I ducked in the doorway marked Women—then stopped short when I caught a glimpse of myself in the full-length mirror by the sink. I'd been waddling through a crowded airport sporting nothing but bare legs and a t-shirt.

Leggings no more, they were now mere fetters for the fashion inept. Why not step out of them, you say? Not an option. That would leave my unshaven legs sticking out—pasty white as only spring legs can be, and flabby besides. Dropping my bags in a heap on the restroom floor, I gathered up my limp leggings and yanked them back in place. Only five gates to go. Could they stay up long enough to get me on that plane?

"Got any safety pins?"
The voice behind me belonged to a resourceful-looking woman wearing a friendly smile—and leggings. A sister! She was already digging in her purse, and soon produced a handful of silver safety pins.
"Pin the wasteband to your bra," she instructed, pointing me toward an empty stall. "Works like a charm." And so it did.

Firmly anchored and stretched to the max, my leggings and I took off at a full sprint for Gate 33 with nary a sag. Relieved to find the door still open and my seat waiting for me, I collapsed into 11-c and leaned back. And screamed.

The flight attendant was there in a heartbeat. "Ma'am, are you okay?"
"S-sure," I said, gingerly easing forward, trying to escape the sprung metal point. I never knew safety pins could be so unsafe. "I'm gonna need a Band-Aid."
"Certainly." She rummaged around her first aid kit. "Anything else?"
"Yeah." I winced when the second pin stabbed me in the front. "Duct tape. Preferably red."
She held up a ubiquitous roll. "Sorry. All I've got is this."

Dove gray. "Perfect."

Liz Curtis Higgs, a TCW columnist, is the author of 15 books and one novella, "Fine Print," featured in the anthology Three Weddings and a Giggle (Multnomah). She lives with her husband and two children in Kentucky.

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Not-so-quiet Desperation

An 'funny' discussion about Pastors' Wives. Glad that while I was going through the concerns aired, I realized how far God had helped me to understand about it and made me feel secure with many things I was once so concerned about. Late lesson learnt? No. Instead, what a perfect timing =) !

Not-so-quiet Desperation
A Leadership Interview

I thought I could handle being married to a pastor … but now I'm not so sure," says Lisa, a character in Desperate Pastors' Wives by Ginger Kolbaba and Christy Scannell (Howard, 2007). The novel tells the story of four pastors' wives in fictitious Red River, Ohio.

"It's a town so small that when you take out your garbage, people already know what's in it," Ginger says. We were first interested in the book because Ginger is a former Leadership staffer and currently editor of our sister publication Marriage Partnership. Our interest was further piqued when the authors appeared on Court TV to comment on a recent trial of a pastor's wife accused of killing her husband.


How has a fun, breezy novel tapped such a deep need?
The characters in our book are all desperate for something: love, faith, peace, fulfillment. They all live in the fishbowl of pastoral ministry. Their husbands don't understand the stress of being a pastor's wife, and they have no one to turn to. So these four women from different churches, different denominations start meeting together. They drive 40 miles out of town to meet at a small café. It's the one place where the façade can come down.

Why use a fiction? Surely there are true stories of hurting pastors' wives.
Unless it's a murder, who would read it? We wanted to be able to reach out to pastors' wives, but if we did so in a non-fiction, reportorial way, nobody would believe it. From the outside, pastors' families often look so perfect. We wanted church members to pick up the book and say, "Oh, my. I had no idea I was doing this to my pastor's wife. She's just like me, and I need to give her a break."

What kind of research did you do?
As a pastor's kid, I'm familiar with the struggles of pastors' families. And in my role as editor, I receive hundreds of letters from pastors' wives who have nobody to go to, and so they come to us. We interviewed women and surveyed their blogs, and we found there really is an underlying desperation in many of their marriages and relationships.

We also studied the polls. Global Pastors Network reports that 80 percent of pastors' wives say they feel left out and unappreciated by church members. You talk about desperate—that statistic really threw me: 80 percent? That's a lot of hurting, isolated women.

And 84 percent of pastors' wives feel unqualified and discouraged in their roles. More than half of pastor's wives said the most devastating thing that happened to their marriage was entering the ministry.

Do you think pastors would be surprised to know their wives are this unhappy?
Yes. Ministry wives face problems of calling and expectation. He's called, but is she? She is expected to be a role model and a first lady and to keep her whole family in perfect order. Everything she does and says reflects on her husband's ministry, and I don't think the men understand the stress that places on a woman. Their whole identity can be wrapped up in being the pastor's wife, and they begin to lose themselves, who they are.

And they have nowhere to go. If you're a pastor's wife and you're really ticked off at your husband because he isn't helping at home or he works too much or he's inadequate in bed, you can't go to the pastor to discuss it. You can't tell other women in the church.

So your use of the word desperate is not hyperbole.
Not at all. One woman told me, "I hate organized religion." After decades in small churches, she hates what the church is doing to her husband and their family. I was told, "I can worship God so much better when I'm not around church people." She was just being real. And I've heard that many times: life is messy, community is messy, and in too many churches it becomes nasty, and your soul takes the hits.

In your story you advocate the "safe place," where the pastors' spouses can open up in a protected environment. We found safe places on blogs, dozens of sites where pastors' wives are writing anonymously to get the toxins out of their systems. But how much real community is there on the Web? The friendship among the four women in our book is a rarity. At least it offers the hope that there are real friends out there and people who truly understand.

You have a ministry background. What was the novel's effect on you?
Therapeutic. My characters said things I couldn't because I was the pastor's daughter. One served a burnt casserole to the church leaders who had refused to replace the broken stove in the parsonage. In the end, they seemed like real, ordinary people, like me. Even with all the things the pastor's wife does and is expected to do, she's often invisible, and few people really appreciate who she is. I thought, I need to do more to express my gratitude to my pastor's wife—and to all pastors' wives.

Copyright © 2007 by the author or Christianity Today International/Leadership Journal.
Click here for reprint information onLeadership Journal.
Summer 2007, Vol. XXVIII, No. 3, Page 17

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Is God Letting Your Family Down?

Is God Letting Your Family Down?
By: Tim Palla
Contributing Writer

The portable incubator
Thanks to the local 4-H office I have an egg incubator in my study. I thought it would be a fun project -- for the kids, of course. As it turns out, it’s not a project at all. You set up the incubator, put eggs in the holders, set the thermostat to the correct temperature, and wait. That’s it. What was I thinking?

It takes 21 days for chicken eggs to hatch, but that’s irrelevant to the five resident egg inspectors that bear my last name. They intrude my study more now than ever -- especially the three youngest ones. "Hi, Dad! Just checking for peeps." I have a hunch this phrase will be repeated often enough to wear holes in my eardrums. "Hey Dad, will you call me if anything happens?" they inquire. "Sure will," I reply with a slight nod. The fact that I’ve answered that same question, or a variation of it, twice already this morning means nothing to them. They need my reassurance and I’ll continue to give it. This is one of my higher callings in life.


Seeing is believing
Fertilized bird eggs aren’t fair to their onlookers. Day after day, eggs look the same. Nothing changes. When the barn cat became pregnant, we watched her go from a size "00" to an 8-XXL in a matter of days. We knew when she was about to pop. It was obvious through the changes in her body. After the Collie was bred, we were mesmerized by the dozen or so spigots which protruded from her sagging abdomen. They appeared overnight. Nevertheless, there is nothing exciting about egg-watching. Eggs are boring. It’s always the same scene, just a different day.

There are several reasons why this could get frustrating. First of all, I don’t know which ones will hatch and which ones will rot. I can’t tell a fertilized egg from an unfertilized one at this point. Second of all, other than plugging in a couple of electrical cords, my work requires no effort, no specialized skill, no talent. I can’t make anything happen. My job is simply to wait. Zzzzzzzz… Zzzzzzzz… Zzzzzzzz…

It’s hard to be optimistic and excited when nothing changes. What thrill is there when, day in and day out, the temperature never varies and the shell is just as round and hard and smooth as it was the day before? Soon you hear yourself asking strange questions. "What if this is all in vain? What if nothing ever happens and it’s all a big joke? What if I’m disappointed? What if God lets me down?"

Seeing through God’s eyes
One morning it dawned on me. These eggs are not boring at all -- they’re actually encouraging. A dear friend from church was frustrated with a spouse who had no interest in spiritual things. "I pray and pray and pray. I talk and witness and then I cry, worry, and pray more. Still, nothing changes. It makes no difference."

Without missing a beat, I glanced over at the climate-controlled box on top of my file cabinet. I explained to my friend that life’s most awesome mysteries happen in the most boring places. When there’s no visible changes, no reason to believe, no hope on the horizon…then stand back and "see the salvation of the Lord." He works on the inside -- in the soul -- where no human eye can detect His secret ways.

Sure, things look the same on the outside, but only the Lord can see what’s going on in the heart. It may seem to us that nothing is changing. The outer shell still appears to be hard and stubborn, but who can tell what’s growing on the inside? Not me. My part is to trust, faithfully obey, and wait. I know I’ll be amazed when God reveals the power of His grace, but it’s hard to remember that grace is sown in the heart, not on the skin. We’re not Chia pets.

Out of the mouth of babes
Today, I was lifted and encouraged by 17 brown eggs. The Lord used them to teach me to "walk by faith, not by sight." I’m thankful that God has hid some things from my eyes and revealed other things to "babes." My own wide-eyed optimistic "babes" seem to have more revelation than I do at this point. There’s a lesson in it for me (and you), I’m sure.

Against my counsel, 3 of my youngest children have started picking out "chicken names." My daughter (the baby) will choose names like Jade (after one of her dolls) or Heather (a young woman who has recently started attending our church). The boys have chosen names based upon the size and shades of the sepia-toned shells: Big Brownie, Tiny Tan. Their creativity and optimism increase each day. They instinctively know that something’s "goin’-on" inside those eggs -- something they can’t see -- yet they expect the "big reveal" every day. They aren’t sitting back waiting for day 21 like their Dad, and they’re not bored.

For the next few days five inquisitive minds will sporadically gaze into a borrowed incubator from sunrise to sunset. Their anxious gestures will remind me that "faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." While you and I may look on the outside and think nothing has changed, God is diligently shaping what’s inside. Isn’t that where He always starts? If you have adopted the frustrating mindset of "nothing ever changes," remember that the miracle is occurring inside the egg. Today, have hope… and wait like a child.


Timothy Palla is the pastor of Fairview Baptist Church in the Lucasville/Minford area of Southern Ohio. He and his lovely wife Jennifer have five children; Drew, Dane, Aidan, Ethan, and Meghan. You may contact him at tpalla@rocketmail.com.

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Irreconcilable Differences—So?

Why you don't need to see things the same way.
By Mark Galli

It didn't take long into my marriage to discover how incompatible my wife and I were. One reason I was attracted to Barbara in the first place was her apparent interest in theology. We'd spent many happy hours in college taking Bible and religion classes together; we even co-wrote a mediocre paper on the Reformation! Few people have my nutty interest in theology, so I felt especially blessed to have discovered an eligible woman who shared that interest. I proposed as quickly as I could, and I was ready to live happily ever after.

Some days into the marriage I was shocked to discover the truth about Barb. I'd just finished some weighty tome—such as Dietrich Bonhoeffer's Creation and Fall—and encouraged her to read it. She said she wasn't interested. When over the next week I suggested another theology book, and then another, and was turned down repeatedly, I asked what was going on.

"I really don't like theology all that much."
"But what about … ?" I stammered.
"Once in awhile it's okay. But most of the time I find it too dry."

I was floored. Here was the woman of my dreams telling me she wasn't really the woman of my dreams.


That was the first of many shocking revelations. As the years unfolded and we each matured in our own way, the differences became more marked. She liked to get up early; I liked to stay up late—so when exactly were we supposed to have sex? She stayed politically liberal as I became more conservative. She enjoyed being laid back; I liked to plan way in advance. She's energized by a room full of people; I'm drained. She thought the kids should be given a break for being kids; I thought they should be disciplined more. And we couldn't even argue on the same page—I liked to get things out in the open; she liked to do anything but that.

Years ago, we compared our Myers-Briggs personality scores. The literature that interpreted the results was fairly pessimistic about our future.

But surely after 30 years of marriage, things have gotten better, no? I recently took an online marital compatibility test to see whether time has made a difference. We scored a 60 percent. The test maker said, "If you're less than 70 percent compatible you may have to struggle hard to maintain a long-term relationship."

It appears that Barbara and I are simply not compatible. Some would say we have irreconcilable differences. But there's a mystery here: though we're as incompatible as ever these days, we find ourselves happier than ever, as well.

Mired in the self
Like nearly every couple in self-absorbed America, Barb and I originally thought marriage was about mutual self-fulfillment. We mouthed all the Christian platitudes about serving God and each other, but when we first got married, we predictably focused on how much fun it was to be together: companionship, sex, increased income, someone to listen, sex, another shoulder to cry on, someone to go on vacations with, sex, and so on. Early marriage for most couples is very much about mutual emotional masturbation.

As long as we have so much in common, the relationship can blissfully proceed. The problem is that only the rare marriage can be continually compatible.

People grow, mature, and change—or at least we all hope they do. Invariably the person we eye across the table at anniversary 10 will be different from the person we walked down the aisle with. And that different person will just as likely be less compatible.

Though compatibility is good and enjoyable as far as it goes, it never goes far enough to make a successful marriage. That's because it stays mired in the self.

Compatibility is ultimately about finding someone who is compatible with me. Compatibility is about my feeling good about being with someone else who shares my interests, blends with my personality traits, shares my values.

Biblical marriage is something altogether different, but at the core isn't much different from the rest of the Christian life: "Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves. Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others. Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus" (Philippians 2:3-5). Jesus, in fact, had little in common with the people on planet Earth. The chasm between Him and us is the difference between the infinite and the finite, holiness and sinfulness, God and man.

But He didn't count compatibility with God a thing to be grasped, Paul says. Instead He emptied Himself, taking the form of a servant, of those who were markedly incompatible with Him.

Lesson in martyrdom
After a few years of marriage, when couples stare into the abyss of their non-compatibility, they generally panic and try to create a new compatibility. My wife increasingly demanded that I listen with deep sincerity to all the little details of her life. I really tried. Couldn't do it.

For my part, I insisted that my wife go to a driving range with me, and I tried to teach her how to hit a golf ball. We ended that experiment in spouse abuse after lesson one.

The more we tried to find areas of compatibility, the more miserable we became. I remember sitting on the bed beside her after another failed sexual adventure (an activity at which we were no longer compatible, either, it seemed). I began to mull over all our differences: politics, kids, remodeling, attitudes toward in-laws, money issues, spirituality—the list was endless. On and on my mind raced. I was overcome with a profound sense of how utterly different we were, and how it was simply impossible for us to reconcile those differences.

But Barbara and I are compatible on one thing: divorce isn't an option. So we simply decided we were going to make this thing work in spite of the fact that we were so incompatible. We didn't decide it in a day, and we didn't decide it with gusto and optimism. We simply felt we had no choice but to learn how to live with a person so utterly alien to us.

And it was in that period that we began to learn about martyrdom, about the death of the self, about giving up the desire for compatibility. If marriage wasn't about how my spouse could make me happier, we each concluded, then it must be about each of us trying to make the other happier.

One morning on vacation on the beach, she asked if I wanted to go for a walk and look at the tide pools. This isn't my instinctive idea of a good time, but she wanted companionship while she did something that was interesting to her. So I went and entered into the experience as best I could. I didn't get nearly the enjoyment from it that she did, but I was happy she enjoyed it so much.

One evening on the same vacation, after a long and busy day, she suggested we go out to eat. She was exhausted, and the last thing she wanted to do was cook over a hot stove to prepare a meal for our family and the extended family with us. I, however, grimaced about the cost of going out. She responded by saying she'd go to the store and whip something together. While this wasn't something she wanted to do, she knew it would make me happy.

These are simple, ordinary acts of martyrdom, the giving way of self for the sake of the other. Every marriage has plenty of such moments. They can be resisted with complaints—"Why don't you ever do what I want to do?" and "Why don't you consider my feelings?" Or they can be submitted to with grace.

This forsaking of compatibility is slow and painful to learn. At the end of the day, Barb and I each feel a sense of regret at not having done more for the other. But every morning there's a new vow to give it another shot.

And here's the crazy thing: the more we stop trying to get each other to be compatible, the happier our marriage has been. Instead of our differences being insurmountable obstacles to happiness, they're simply facts that make our relationship interesting—aggravating at times, to be sure, but ultimately more fascinating.

And one more not unimportant thing: the more we've learned to love each other despite our differences, the more we've been able to love and serve those outside our marriage, most of whom are different from us in so many ways.

Certainly Barb and I share many things in common. But I doubt we share any more than we do with anyone on the planet. Two human beings are going to share some things in common, no matter how different they are.

But that's not what holds a marriage together. Irreconcilable differences are key—at least how we deal with them and learn to love in spite of them.

Mark Galli, managing editor of Christianity Today, is author of Francis of Assisi and His World (IVP).

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Irreconcilable Arguments?

Solving Conflicts without Arguing
by Gary D. Chapman

Conflicts are inevitable. Arguing is a choice.

Conflicts grow out of our uniqueness. The goal of conflict resolution is not to rid ourselves of our differences. The goal is to learn to work together as a team, using differences to make life better for both of us.

But for some couples, conflicts lead to arguments and arguments often get out of control. Instead of finding solutions, they create new problems. One wife told me, "I just do whatever he wants because I'm tired of arguing." Obviously, this approach won't lead to an authentic relationship.


The downside of arguments
What's so bad about arguments? When you win an argument, your spouse is the loser. And we all know it's no fun to live with a loser.

Arguments accomplish a great deal. Unfortunately, the accomplishments are destructive. Arguments are those carefully worded statements designed to appeal to the other person's sense of logic and reason. The implication is clear: any reasonable person would agree with my argument. When the spouse fails to agree, she now falls into the category of being illogical.

Arguments quickly become charged with emotion. You may end up yelling or screaming or crying; spouting out words that assassinate your mate's character; questioning his motives; and condemning his behavior as unloving, unkind, and undisciplined.

Arguments ultimately lead to one of three results. You win and your spouse loses; you lose and your spouse wins; or you argue to a draw. When arguments end in a draw, both spouses are losers. Neither one is convinced of the other's position, and both walk away disappointed, frustrated, hurt, angry, bitter, and often despairing of hope for their marriage.

The upside of conflict resolution
The good news is that conflicts can be resolved without arguing. Finding a winning solution begins by choosing to believe that such a solution is possible and that you and your spouse are smart enough to discover it. It requires you to respect each other's ideas even when you disagree, and to respond lovingly to your spouse in spite of the fact that you presently have a conflict. The objective is to find a solution, not to win an argument.

Conflicts cannot be resolved without empathetic listening. Unfortunately, most couples believe they are listening to each other when, in fact, they're simply reloading their verbal guns.

Empathetic listening means seeking to understand what the other person is thinking and feeling. It's putting ourselves in the other person's shoes and trying to look at the world through his or her eyes. It means we lay aside our verbal guns in favor of truly understanding the other person's viewpoint. Instead of focusing on how we're going to respond to what the other person's saying, we focus entirely on hearing what the other person is saying. We can't have a loving response until we first understand the meaning and feeling behind their words.

Empathetic listening may require you to ask questions to make sure you're hearing correctly what your spouse is saying. A husband might ask, "Are you saying you want me consistently to take out the trash without your asking?" to which she responds, "Yes. When I have to ask, I feel as if I'm being your mother. And I'd like you to take it out after supper and not leave it until the next morning so the kitchen doesn't smell." Now that he understands her, he can affirm her desires by saying, "I hear what you're saying and it makes sense. I think I can do that. The only problem I see will be Wednesday nights when I have to leave quickly in order to go to a meeting. Would it be possible for you to take out the trash that night?" Chances are she'll agree and the new "garbage removal program" brings harmony to their relationship.

When you affirm your spouse's perspective, then you can share yours and together you can negotiate a solution that will respect both of your ideas and feelings.

The most common mistake
The most common mistake couples make while trying to resolve conflicts is to respond before they have the full picture. This inevitably leads to arguments. When people respond too quickly, they often respond to the wrong issue. Listening helps us focus on the heart of the conflict. When we listen, understand, and respect each other's ideas, we can then find a solution in which both of us are winners. When a husband and wife lovingly seek solutions to conflicts, they find the harmony and teamwork they're ultimately trying to build.

Copyright © 2007 by the author or Christianity Today International/Marriage Partnership magazine. Click here for reprint information on Marriage Partnership.
Summer 2007, Vol. 24, No. 2, Page 17

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His Grace

She just received a letter today..., from a dear friend whom she recently got acquainted..., through an unusual way... This lady friend has been a true example for her..., about believing in the Lord's providence..., she has been blessed with her friend's sharing all these times... This is something she would keep for life..., in understanding more of the dear Lord's way..., in providing for His beloved children... His eyes never leaves His beloved ones...

Sometimes the night was beautiful
Sometimes the sky was so far away
Sometimes it seemed to stoop so close
You could touch it but your heart would break
Sometimes the morning came too soon
Sometimes the day could be so hot
There was so much work left to do
But so much You'd already done

Sent: Tuesday, July 24, 2007 10:14 AM
Subject: Hola: on the Move

Hola mis Familia y Amigos,

Well it has come time for me to move. The packers were here all day and will be back to finsh packing up our belongings. Then on Wed and Thursday they will load the truck. There is a tree being planted in memory of Dan on Little Creek base. After the ceremony Danielle and I will head for our new home. Well mine anyways. Hers temporarily. Heidi and Ilene, she flew in to see heidi, are driving down to help me unpack and get settled in.

My new business is shaping up and I hope to have it running by Sept. I already have orders coming in. One of the movers has put an order in too. Here is what I will be doing. Imprinting. I have bought a puzzle machine, a cup heat press and a Flat heat press which will allow me to imprint just about anything that is realtively flat up to in inch thick. I'm looking forward to taking some of my photos and imprinting them on tiles and also making them into puzzles.

Well I promised that I would let you all know what has been happening since Dan' s death. One I have been setting up my business, I have been working on adopting Ray, my oldest granson, who Dan and I have had custody of since he was one. This will enable Ray to get death benefits from social security. They require that Ray be adopted and an actual child of ours before he qualifies for benefits. It didn't matter that Dan was his sole support for four years and that I would continue to be his guardian. that process is almost done. I have had all my home visits and and been investigated quite well. The adoption agency that handled the home studies and did all the investgating has approved me and has sent the forms and approval notice to my lawyer. all it needs now it to be approved by a judge. And it will be final. I have not yet put my house up for sale because i need to maintain a residence in Virginia until the adoption is complete. So Danielle and I will come back here and finish some projects that Dan and I started and did not quite get finished. it will much easier to do with everything out of the house. althoug we do have the upstairs bathroom almost finished and the master bath room is about half way. I have been getting Ray ready for school as well. He will start kindergarten this year. I bought a Bishon as a companion for Ray and I. Dakota and Danielle will be moving to where ever her husband Rick gets stationed. It is in the works for him to go to Camp Addleberry in Indiana to be an instructor there.

The Lord continues to bless. I also promised to tell you all about how the Lord has taken care of me during this time. Where to start? Most of you know that we spent 3 years in Spain at Naval Station Rota. that was our fiisrt duty station. Dan then got assigned to Derson 2. He was suppose to do this for two years but in the middle of his assignment they created the OMC, Operational Ministy Center. They switched Dan's orders from Desron 2 to the OMC and extended his time here one more year. It is the norm to start searching for your next duty assignment a year in advance. So since we thought Dan was only going to be here for two year we started to pray about his next assignment almost as soon as we got here.

Now usually when we pray about this something usually jumps out at us when we are looking at openings. This time nothing. We prayed and prayed some more and still nothing. well we went ahead and made a "wish list" of the places we thought would be interesting. And then we prayed some more. we ad made ours choices based on location in relation to where our daughters lived and to whatever openings were on the Marine side. dan wanted to do his Marine time while he was still relatively young. Through this whole process the Lord was silent. No nudges no sense of peace just a blank silence. So we thought maybe the Lord didn't want Dan in the Navy anymore. Ok then if not what and where then? We prayed some more. Dan researched different types of ministries and we prayed about each one and still the silence, nothing. We did this for almost two years. Dan finally decided to stay in the Navy until he had clear guidance from God on what to do.

While he was deployed for six months Dan emailed and told me to open an account in my name. In the 24 years we had been married we have never had a seperate account now Dan was insisting that I do this. Then in the fall after he got back from deployment I decided to get a credit card in my name to establish credit in my name. Again I had never seriously thought to do this before. About a year earlyier I had started to save some money to start my own business. In hind sight I can see the hand of God working to make sure I was set for the time of Dan's death. These were not the only things that happened.

Dan's Commador allowed him to come home a month early from deployment so we could celebrate our 25th wedding anniversary. The girls gave us a wonderful party to celebrate in early December since we thought he was getting home in late December. Out pastor here in Deep Creek told Dan of a hunting place where he go to hunt squirrel. So he got to do that several times. He got to deer hunt with his brother one last time. Scott, his friend when Dan would call him at work alwys seemed to get another call on another line or some one would come to his office and their conversations only lasted about five minutes. The friday before Dan died he called his friend and they were not interupred for about 20 minutes. God gave him this time with his friend one last time. Our nephew Jason drives truck and is somtimes in the area. Everytime jason would happen to be in the area he would call and ask if we could get together. Everytime Dan and i were on our way ut the door to attend afunction of one sort or another. One day in the week before Dan died jason called, he was in town. I almost told him that Dan was not able to come and see him when I looked at the clock and noticed the time. Dan would be leaving the base soon. I gave Jason his cell phone # and told him to call Dan. They were able to get together and spend time together one last time.

In December Dan finally got to see all of the grandbabies at one time. Our whole family was together except for Danielle's new husband who was in Kosovo. Dan even got to perform Danielle's wedding ceremony since the Commador allowed him to come home early. We got to spend one more Christmas together and his 46th birthday was spent in California at Ilene's place. We finally got to meet TC's parent who had been wanting us to come and visit every since Ilene and TC got married but it never seemed to work out until then. We celebrated the Chinese New Year with TC's family in California. While we were there Dan started talking about how we should get some burial plots. And he wondered if there was any spots left up at Tunnel Hill Chapel where we got married. One week to the day of Dan's death We got to see one of our daughters give her heart to the Lord. I had never heard our pastor to ask for a show of hands of those who had given their heart to Lord when he had prayed at the end of the service. Danielle raised her hand. God had given this special blessing to Dan before He took him home.

After we came home and about a week before Dan died we were out for our normal evening walk. As usual we talked about whatever was on our minds. This night we were discussing once again whether he should stay in the navy or if the Lord wanted him else where. Several times before we had talked about what we would do if one of us died and Dan would always say Grace you'll be fine the Lord will look after you. We also touched on this subject that night of our walk as well. What was different that night was not his expressed wish that the Lord would take him home. He had sad that before. But that night he said "I don't know whats wrong with me. I'm tired of moving and just want to stay still. The best thing that could happen is if the Lord would take me home right now." Dan had never before expressed a desire to not move around. He loved meeting new people and exploring new places. Just recently I realized that Dan had also started talking about taking Ray hunting that year. This was also unusual because in Dan's opinion a child of 4 should not be out hunting.

In hind sight I can see God's hand preparing me for that night of his accident and what was to come after. God has sent so many special people into my life to help me thru this time. Starting with the first person to show up at the accident. A lady who was traveling in the opposite direction then Dan and I were happend to be an EMT. She seen the accident starting to happen and called 911 as it was happening. Thank God she did because I couldn't figure out how to use Dan's cell phone and called Danielle by accident or probably not an accident after all but a part of God's plan. I have no idea how I called her because I was pushing buttons and the 911 #'s. It was great because Danielle was able to go across the street to a military ombudsman and was able to notifiy Dan's commanding officer's right away. She was also able to get to the hospital where they life flighted Dan.(Richmond) To look at Dan you would not have thought he was seriously injured. Outwardly he only had a couple inch gash on the back of his head that didn't bleed much. He wasn't all scratched up nor were his clothes. They decided to life flight Dan becuase he was non responsive to us. He was awake but incoherent. He just kept saying to help him because it hurt and kept trying to stand up. The lady EMT that stopped to help and I had a hard time keeping him still. We finally managed to get him to sit and lean back agaisnt me on the ground. That was the best we could do. I'm glad the emergency unit got there quick. while Dan was being Life flighted Ray and i drove to the VMC (??) in Richmond. While we were driving Ray said " Grandma there were three and now there is only two." That hit me hard but I prayed "Your will be done." God's way of preparing me for what I would be told later I guess.

After I got to the hospital and the doctors ran some tests I was told that Dan's injuries were non opperable. His aorta had split vertically all the way from his heart to where it splits to go into the legs. this was a rare occurance. The Doctors said that most people don't make it to the hospital with this kind of injury and if they do make it most don't survive once they get there. This injury coupled with his head injury made it impossible to opperate. Which was perfectly fine because Dan never wanted to be hooked up to machines and kept alive. Nor did they even have a choice as to trying to resucitate him. God granted his wish that when he died he would be left alone and not brought back. The Doctors that worked on dan were all christians. After they gave me the news about Dan's injuries we gathered in a circle and prayed, their idea not mine. The lady chaplain that was on duty that night was a literal God send. I don't know what I would have done without her.

Chaplains from the OMC office came and gave us support and made sure we got home safely. it would take another book just to explain how the military took care of me dring this time. They were truly an extended family. and God sure put us in the right spot when we bought our house. My neighbors were fantastic. I wish I could pack them up and take them with me when I move. Their love, care and prayers helped so much. Not only did the Lord send me wonderful people in my neighbors and the military but also at my bank. I wish I could pack them up as well. They just surrounded me with love and support when they found out my husbnd died. Now when I go in they always ask how I'm doing and give me a hug. Remember when I told you that Dan insisted that I have a seperate account. The Caco Officer (Casualty Assistance Officer) gave me a check of 100,000.00 dollars (from Dan's military Life insurance) and told me to open an account in my name because they would probably freeze our joint account for a while. I was able to tell him I already had one. After a while it also hit me that I already have credit established in my own name which is important at a time like this. It also hit me that I would now be able to buy the equipment for my business. Through Dan's military life insurance, our personal life insurance, a VA annuity, a military annuity and a church conference annuity I'm am taken care of financially. I was able to buy my new home out right, pay off our car loan and our credit cards in full. fills kind of weird not having any kind of debt except for the house payment, which will be done once I sell this house. Yes, the Lord has definately taken care of me just like Dan said he would.

There is so much more that God has done since Dan died including sending the Orkin man (termite inspector) just when I needed help unloading freight (my heat presses) off the back of a freight truck. That was trully an answer to prayer. And now the main guy that is packing up my belongings is a Christian. And when he found out that Dan had been a chaplain he asked if i had any books or things that he could have because he really wanted to study and grow in the Lord. I had already seperated some bible study books that I had originally planned to give to our pastor but had decided not to. And they were already in their own box. I had a great time today discussing with this young man the wonders of God. At every turn God has thrown these wonderful people in my way. Not only did this young man say that I have inspired him today by the way i have dealt with Dan's death but one of the ladies at the bank had a sister die suddenly at the age of 46. Same age as Dan and she had a 3 year old son whom her sister had babysat for while she and her husband worked. It was my turn to let her talk and to give a hug. Not only did I know where she was coming from in having a loved one die suddenly but I also knew first hand what it was like to deal with a preschooler during this time of loss.

I don't understand why the Lord decided to take Dan home. Sorry Rick, but this is one time I can honestly say "It was meant to be". "It was God's will!" No matter which way I look at it technically this accident should not have happened. The roads were perfect, a four lane divided by a grassy knoll and not a car, animal, gravel or pot hole in sight. I had the bike tested and there is nothing wrong with the bike. And the autopsy found nothing unusual with Dan. I honestly believe that if he had not been on that bike then something else would have happend that day. It also finally dawned on me why we were getting no answer to almost two years of prayer. God had other plans. While I miss Dan alot I have a peace about what has happened. I even have joy. It has been a weird and exciting time in my life because through all this God has revealed himself to me in so many ways. I know that sounds rather an odd way of talking about the death of your husband but there is not any other way of explaining it. As you can see the Lord has been at work and I didn't even tell half of what I could have.

Love and prayers.
Grace

PS sorry this was so long. Would love to hear from you all. If you email I will be off line for a few days while my things get packed and shipped to my new home.

CHORUS:
Oh God, You are my God
And I will ever praise You
Oh God, You are my God
And I will ever praise You
I will seek You in the morning
And I will learn to walk in Your ways
And step by step You'll lead me
And I will follow You all of my days

Sometimes I think of Abraham
How one star he saw had been lit for me
He was a stranger in this land
And I am that, no less than he
And on this road to righteousness
Sometimes the climb can be so steep
I may falter in my steps
But never beyond Your reach

CHORUS
And I will follow You all of my days
And I will follow You all of my days
And step by step You'll lead me
And I will follow You all of my days
And I will follow You all of my days
(Sometimes the night was beautiful)
And I will follow You all of my days

Sometimes By Step
Rich Mullins
(one of her most favorites songs ever!)

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Why I Love Liz

Elizabeth Curtis Higgs. Liz, she'd say. Her path crossed mine through her wonderful writings at Christianity Today about ten months ago. At that times I wondered why they set one special section about her namely "A Life with Liz". Going through her writings proved to be one of the things I really needed at that time. As I went through each article day by day, I received some consolations that helped to keep me going. She brought smiles and laughters, amazed me with how deep she actually is despite always portraying herself as humorous and funny. I sent her a note and guess what I received a couple of weeks after that? Her card. With her own writing and signature. Funny, the card carried my name. It is the title of her latest book. It was the Lord who crossed our path together.


When I first read her writing, I envied her. A lot. For her life that seems so joyful and all. A truly gifted writer, married to her wonderful Bill, a mother of two great children with her clear calling as a speaker of God's love. But later as the more I read her articles, they revealed of her dark past. Now, this is a person who truly understands the meaning of God's grace... I see grace as her theme everywhere in her writings. As she was redeemed from her eternal death she has been setting her heart on the mission her Lord Jesus Christ entrusted to her. An encourager. Funny, because that is what I have always been hoping to be in this life and here is the true example for me. Thank you dear Lord...

She loves everything about Scotland and Celtic. I couldn't believe my luck! Here is someone who writes some famous books that portray beautiful Scotland as her background. Even her non-fiction ones are about characters from the Bible, such Leah, Rachel and Jacob had setting in the wild land of Scotland. I never knew someone so in love with Celtic like her. That makes me love her even more because she must understand my considered funny choice by many people (men in skirt?! Get real, girl...)!

Liz' ministry is to women. Dear Lord, this is scary. Uhm... I mean, "WOW!" How are You going to surprise me more, Lord? Liz writings are always about women. Her focus is on the lives of women. Her mission is to bring the Lord's light to the lost women. Something I have always been interested in and doing it although I just realized it quite recently. For certain reasons I have no interest in ministering to men, unless it relates to the women in their lives or unless it is about my men. Liz has many great ways in showing me to how follow her step and share her unbelievable experiences dealing with women from many different backgrounds.

Liz loves Indonesia. She wanted to be a missionary for Indonesian people when she was saved at the age of 27. Dear Lord, don't You think I'd better stop it here before it gets more weird? Great. Thank you, Lord.

Hope to see you one day, my big (and 'big') sister in Christ, until then God be with you always!

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The Trial of Your Faith

By Charles Spurgeon

“In this you greatly rejoice, even though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been distressed by various trials, so that the proof of your faith, being more precious than gold which is perishing, even though tested b y fire, may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ;…”
1 Peter 1:6-7 NASB

Faith untried may be true faith, but it is sure to be little faith, and it is likely to remain dwarfish so long as it is without trials. Faith never prospers so well as when all things are against her: tempests are her trainers, and lightnings are her illuminators. When a calm reigns on the sea, spread the sails as you will, the ship moves not to its harbour; for on a slumbering ocean the keel sleeps too.


Let the winds rush howling forth, and let the waters lift up themselves, then, though the vessel may rock, and her deck may be washed with waves, and her mast may creak under the pressure of the full and swelling sail, it is then that she makes headway towards her desired haven. No flowers wear so lovely a blue as those which grow at the foot of the frozen glacier; no stars gleam so brightly as those which glisten in the polar sky; no water tastes so sweet as that which springs amid the desert sand; and no faith is so precious as that which lives and triumphs in adversity.

Tried faith brings experience. You could not have believed your own weakness had you not been compelled to pass through the rivers; and you would never have known God's strength had you not been supported amid the water-floods. Faith increases in solidity, assurance, and intensity, the more it is exercised with tribulation. Faith is precious, and its trial is precious too.

Let not this, however, discourage those who are young in faith. You will have trials enough without seeking them: the full portion will be measured out to you in due season. Meanwhile, if you cannot yet claim the result of long experience, thank God for what grace you have; praise Him for that degree of holy confidence whereunto you have attained: walk according to that rule, and you shall yet have more and more of the blessing of God, till your faith shall remove mountains and conquer impossibilities


Received in 16 February 2004 from a dear sister in Christ who had helped me going through the beginning of my rough journey in Christ. She is no longer with me now, nobody but Christ Himself taking my hands, guiding me through the even rougher journey. Thank you Lord that through the stony and cruel ground, surrounded by the howling winds, I can still see the steps of Your saints that have gone before me.

I will certainly be home one day...!

"They were stoned, they were sawn in two, they were tempted, they were put to death with the sword; they went about in sheepskins, in goatskins, being destitute, afflicted, ill-treated (men of whom the world was not worthy), wandering in deserts and mountains and caves and holes in the ground."
Hebrews 11:37-38 NASB

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Rigo's Story

A little story from my old archive, something worth-reading and worth-keeping to me... Hope you enjoy the story as much as I do and get to learn more on loving others... Blessings!

And He said to him, "'YOU SHALL LOVE THE LORD YOUR GOD WITH ALL YOUR HEART, AND WITH ALL YOUR SOUL, AND WITH ALL YOUR MIND.' This is the great and foremost commandment. The second is like it, 'YOU SHALL LOVE YOUR NEIGHBOR AS YOURSELF.' On these two commandments depend the whole Lay and the Prophets."
Matthew 23:37-40

"Whatever you do, do your work heartily, as for the Lord rather than for men,..."
Colossians 3:23 NASB

What a poor, immigrant child taught me about Christ's love.
By Julianne Bahlinger


The plight of the schoolteacher is at times overwhelming. In many classrooms a teacher is assigned children on multiple levels of achievement. Because of this, a class size of 22 means any lesson you teach is akin to a three-ring circus. A decade ago, in addition to my regular fourth-grade teaching duties, I had an additional assignment as the gifted and talented specialist, which meant my students were all over the map skill-wise. I was stretched to the limit.

Into this stressful picture came Rigo, a new student who joined my class well into the school year. He was the youngest son of a Mexican immigrant. Rigo lived most of his 12 years in rural Mexico. In the village where he lived there was no running water. His father, who spoke in broken English, told me in the way of an apology that Rigo's small stature was due to the scarcity of food in their village.

Rigo entered my classroom at 12 with no understanding of basic skills because he had been to this point unschooled. In the United States, even our "children of poverty" at fourth-grade level understood basic shapes and had some word recognition. For all practical purposes, Rigo could have moved here from Mars. It was never clear how he had acquired a very small amount of broken English, perhaps from his father.

I was so angry at this placement. How could anyone expect this of me? I had gone to great lengths to become a "gifted specialist." I had no clue what to do with a child like Rigo while meeting my obligations to my other students. For two days I complained wholeheartedly to my colleagues, who agreed with me. During that time I grudgingly gathered coloring sheets, found an old workbook, and did a poor job of keeping Rigo busy.

On the third day, while I was walking back from the lunchroom with my students, the school discipline officer called to me from across the hall, "Your Rigo is in the office. He was throwing rocks at recess." I shrugged it off and went back to my room with 21 children in tow.

A short time into my math lesson, Rigo returned. He stood in the doorway and I looked up. His eyes were welled up with tears. He said only, "Mexico okay." I knew that he was trying to tell me that rocks were toys in his village in Mexico. It was then that I saw a light shining through Rigo's tears. It was born of the pain of being ragged and poor and the shame of being in a world where you didn't seem to have the same instructions as everyone else.

I looked around the room and then back at Rigo. I was indicted and convicted in that one moment.

Christ's words echoed in my ears. "When you do it for the least of My brethren, you do it for Me." I went to Rigo in great humility and touched his shoulder. His face, I now realized, was the face of Christ for me in that moment. I took him into the hallway and we sat on the floor. He put his head on my shoulder as I embraced this small child. His pain burst forth like water through a dam, and he cried heavy tears onto my shirt.

I cried, too.

I was weeping for all the Rigos in the world. But I was mostly weeping for myself and all the Christians to whom Christ comes in a small frame like Rigo's and we hand them our leftover coloring pages, outdated workbooks, and discarded clothes, brushing them aside like an inconvenience.

I took Rigo's face into my hands and promised we would find a way to make his days full and meaningful. And, indeed, God opened doors for the two of us. His time in my class filled up quickly with mentors and Legos and children reading books to him. I first heard him laugh at the computer with another child learning the names of shapes. My heart leapt.

He was with me only three weeks. His family moved, chasing the elusive dream of survival. He left me with a lesson I hope I never forget. This is not the story of a teacher who did something wonderful for a child, but of a child who did something remarkable for a teacher.

Rigo vanished like an angel here for a brief visit. His tiny frame and fragile eyes will always remind me of another child, a small infant born helpless in a stable. The words of that infant repeat in my ears with new and glorious implication: "Love one another."

Julianne Bahlinger lives in Fredericksburg, Texas.
Copyright © 2006 by the author or Christianity Today International/Today's Christian magazine

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About Aragorn : LOTR

You scored as Aragorn, You're Aragorn! This ranger from the north is the personification of bravery. He always thinks of others before himself, and, though he becomes King of Gondor, he is not one to crave attention. "I would have gone with you to the end. Into the very fires of Mordor." Aragorn 75% Samwise 63% Gandalf 56% Arwen 56% Eowyn 56% Frodo 25% Pippin 13% Gollum 6% Faramir 0% Which LOTR character are you? created with QuizFarm.com

There is something addictive about watching Lord of the Rings. Be it the movie background with many imaginable creatures, the heroic scenes in the battles, the hope that stays strong when everything comforting fails, the story and messages it brings that resounds the Bible so much, I simply got so many things out of the movie, thanks to Mr. Tolkien! But getting the result of this quiz above, got me to think more of Aragorn (and watched the movie even more, hehehe!). And here is why I chose to write about Aragorn this time...


Aragorn was not my most favorite character, Samwise Gamgee was. I felt that I could identify more with Sam compared to Aragorn. Sam is the ordinary peasant halfling, simple, sincere, just the way he is with one outstanding characteristic that stands out throughout the movie, his unending loyalty to his Mr. Frodo, the centre of attention. I like the fact that he chooses to stay in the shadow of Mr. Frodo. But Aragorn... born as an heir of the kingdom of man, something I did not feel I could identify myself with. But as I observed his character I came to realize that there are more of him that resembles me and I came to like him more. No,no... not for his manly figure or handsome (?) face, it does not count for this (but yes of course for Arwen!). So, here are some of my observations about him:

Born as an heir of the kingdom for mankind
I, too, was born as an heir of the kingdom of God. Adopted through the sacrifice of Christ my Saviour, I am now a member of my heavenly Father's kingdom. It is a fact that I too often forget during the course of my earthly life. Thanks to the loving Father who keeps reminding me from time to time who I really am, be it through the joyous moments, but moreover through the grievous ones.

Lived in the shadow of his past
Aragorn's early years was shadowed by his ancestors' dark past. Isildur's name was known as the only man enabled to defeat Sauron, yet decided to keep the evil ring that later destroyed him. Aragorn carried his past, hid in the kingdom of the Elf and be a lonely ranger, rather than assuming his true identity as the successor of the king of Gondor. But just like the hands of the Almight God that is able to bring good out of every bad things that happen, Aragorn's time as the lonely ranger had formed him to be a brave warrior for mankind. He was trained well during his harsh life!

The counsels of the wise
Aragorn knew everything about surviving in this life. He even knew how to help others defending their own lives. But he was not one to think he knew everything. He listened to the counsel of his companions, even his lady, Arwen. He listened to the wise counsel of Gandalf and he worked as a team, never thought highly of himself. He believed in the fellowship of the ring and never once agreed that it was broken the day Frodo and Sam left to continue the journey on their own. He must have had memorized and lived out what he read in the Proverbs!

Thrown under the spotlight
Aragorn was the center of attention. Not that he tried to be or do anything that would make him be. In this way, he is so much like Samwise with a little exception, Aragorn was under much bigger pressure as everyone's eyes were toward him. But he never craved such attention (gee, how I love him so much for this!). He kept choosing to remain behind the curtain. Even after he resumed to his true position as the heir of Gondor, this attitude remained with him. It is so often that we want the people's attention to fall on us, yet we forget all the beauty the people see in us is the LORD's!

"...into the very fires of Mordor"
I will always remember two scenes of Aragorn . The first one is where he bowed to Frodo at Frodo's challenge that Aragorn took the ring. I was deeply moved when I saw Aragorn's eyes that said it all. He would never deceive or leave Frodo at any cost. Isn't it so with our Christian walk? This world with all its wonders tries its best to deceive the children of God. To consume them with devilish lies that this world has the best of everything for them.

The second scene was when having to face the multitude of Mordor's armies in the last battle, the remaining soldiers were staggering listening to the sound of the Mordor's armies. They were outnumbered. It was for sure that they would fight to death. But Aragorn, with unexpected bravery confronted and led them all to face the unwanted thing. He said there would be day when courage fails, when everyone would be run scatteringly, but it would not be that day... with a word he whispered "For Frodo...", he led the last armies of men to face the fieriest battle of all. Just like what the king of Rohan said, "Yes, we will lose in the battle, but we will fight them nonetheless." It reminds me that our battle in this life is to be faced like that. To welcome even the most frightening thing that can ever happen to us. Because this is we must remember, the battle is not ours. The battle is the LORD's! His very own hands will deliver us to victory, for the sake of His glorious name.

Arwen and Eowyn
If there are things I 'hate' from Aragorn is the way he related to Eowyn. He led Eowyn to have a hope for a deeper relationship through the way he looked at Eowyn at the celebrating party. Even the king of Rohan (who was of course a man) read the same sign from Aragorn to Eowyn. The only reason I can excuse his attitude is by remembering that he was raised a lonely ranger who did not relate to many people (let alone women!). So, he might not know what to do in dealing with Eowyn's attention. This 'theory' is confirmed by his frankness towards Eowyn later on that he could not give what she hoped for.

But pleaseee...., Aragorn, have a little more faith in yourself for Arwen's love! Be brave in love! She even chose to be mortal, leaving her elf kin to spend her life with you, even though she was not sure she could meet you again one day or not. She believed in you! And Aragorn..., hehehe I too like you, even worse when it comes to believe in my LORD Jesus Christ... I do believe Lord, please help my unbelief...

Fiuuh... I can go on for hours if not days talking about LOTR! I don't feel that I am him whatever the quiz said. It was just a quiz. But this I will say to my LORD. Thank you LORD for letting me learn a lot about myself through the movie. Thank you for convincing me that your kingdom is real even as of now, that I have to live my life on this earth with the reality of Your kingdom. Until one day when I will see you face to face and run into Your loving embrace...!

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