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It was a small group at the women’s jail, only four of them. While I used to count my success by how many attended, I have come to cherish the more intimate small groups. That's often when we can dig a little deeper. Little did I know that today, this group would be willing to go real deep. To share with such honesty and raw vulnerability that I was left, once again, acutely aware of how brightly the light shines in the darkness. It started with their simple question, “What verses tell us about how we can find hope?” By the end of the hour, I knew why they so desperately needed an answer to that question.   By God’s providence, we had "stumbled" upon a verse about hope in Romans with the previous group, just the hour before. So, I knew where we would at least start. However, the passage shares a difficult message. Difficult enough in privileged and blessed Christian homes . . . more challenging by far in the light of what these women had faced. Romans 5:3-4 shares that “ . . . we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.”  I went on to say how God could use even these hard times in their lives to shape them into something useful for his kingdom; that through these trials he was building their perseverance and character and that, in time, he could use the suffering to produce hope. And then they started to share their sufferings . . . One had been kidnapped, her captor telling her that she would either leave with him or in a body bag. The next had recently been raped, which she went on to describe in more detail than I wanted to know. Perhaps even more surprising was her trauma from it, because later she shared that there was a time in her life she had prostituted herself to make ends meet because she felt there was no other way. The third shared that she had turned to cutting, which she had hid from her family for three years—until it covered so much of her body she could no longer hide it. All of these women shared that at times they had felt so hopeless they had considered or attempted suicide. And I was trying to share with them that they should rejoice in their sufferings!   Wrestling With God   Even as I wondered how to help them make sense of that verse, the one who had been raped and prostituted shared yet another difficult issue to address. She said that she believed in God and everything, but she just didn’t believe in all the rules. She shared that since she was twelve, she had been in custody—incarcerated or in residential or treatment facilities . . . she felt as though she had never been free. Now she was at a place in her life where she  wanted to be in control for once! She didn’t want anybody telling her what she could do or couldn’t do or how she should act—including God. She wanted to have fun !    Recalling her account of her sufferings, I found myself gently asking her, “How has that worked out for you so far?” I went on to share what I had learned—if from the opposite end of the spectrum. I have learned that you don’t know what you don’t know. As I lived a very pious, religious life and enjoyed a nice home and a loving family, I thought I had it all! I thought what I had was "fun." And then God broke me to the point of surrender. I gave up control and let him in the driver’s seat of my life. At times I still try to grab the wheel! But I know now that life is far more exciting and rewarding with God in control. While I had been satisfied with "bread," God then let me taste "cake." I shared with that gal that her idea of "fun" was merely bread . . . God wanted to give her cake! I think so many have settled for "bread"—the things of the world that bring us temporary satisfaction, the best we know in our worldly striving. But once we have experienced what God truly has to offer—peace, joy, hope…in us and in others—that’s when we don’t want to settle for what we  thought was good, but rather for what God has called good. And as we give up our control, as we take that step of obedience, submit to his authority, we get to experience God in ways we never imagined possible. And that in itself can be addictive! We seek more and more of him, and we can’t help but tell others what we have seen and heard.   The Gentle Leading of the Holy Spirit   Sometimes I wonder why in the world God leads me where he does during these times of study, why that  scripture would come to mind, and this was one of those times. At first it seemed there was no way we could get from the suffering these women had experienced to finding hope through it! But God is good to provide all we need and as the women peppered me with questions I had verse after verse come to mind. We jumped throughout scripture, God’s word itself providing answers I never would have had on my own.   At one point, the same woman shared that she wanted desperately to be moved back into the dorms. She said she just couldn’t take being in "max"—where each individual got locked up in their own rooms at night. Downstairs in the dorms there was always noise, light, activity—at all hours of the day or night. There were always things to keep her mind busy, to keep her from dwelling on her sufferings. Why would God make her sit in a quiet, dark cell—alone with her thoughts? Immediately, the story of Elijah and his time in the cave came to mind. We went on to read the story in 1 Kings chapter 19. Elijah, a mighty prophet and a man of God, was running from those who wanted to kill him when he found himself hiding in a cave, all alone, mired in self-pity, confused and angry with God. God wanted to speak to Elijah and he wasn’t in the roaring wind or the mighty earthquake or the fire . . . he was just a still small voice. I said to her, “Could God possibly be telling you to stop running from those thoughts? That he wants to sit with you and tackle those issues . . . together? To deal with them and put them behind you?”    As we were wrapping up, the one with all the questions apologized for making us jump all over, but then I was able to point out that that is exactly how the Bible works! Every question we have can be answered in scripture. We need only to seek and we shall find, ask and it shall be given, knock and the door shall be opened unto us. They all nodded in agreement, marveling at the way their questions had been answered—through scripture, from Genesis to Revelation.    Sweet Surrender   The girl who struggled with cutting had been largely silent throughout all of this. She had come several times now and I had learned she had never believed in God, never really even opened a Bible. She had always appeared kind of quiet and reflective. She pointed out that normally she would be the loud, brash, know-it-all in the group (which I found hard to believe!). But then she said that she just loved listening to me talk. She was just soaking it all in! I assured her that I prayed they were not my own words, but those of the Spirit in me. That I was nowhere near wise enough to come up with the answers God’s word provided. She began slowly nodding and said, “I never wanted to be a believer. I never could see the need for it. But now I am starting to see that it is good. I think I am ready. I think I want to go all in! I think I want to let God be in control of my life!” We prayed, amongst many other things, that she might indeed surrender her life to Christ. That all of us would allow him to be in control. That he would not just be our Savior, but our Lord . As they went to leave, the air was lighter, the heaviness was lifted. There was light shining into their darkness. They left not only feeling heard and satisfied . . . but hopeful —even in the midst of such sufferings. Only by the grace of God!   “Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.” Romans 5:3-4 NIV   “Therefore, rid yourselves of all malice and all deceit, hypocrisy, envy, and slander of every kind. Like newborn babies, crave pure spiritual milk, so that by it you may grow up in your salvation, now that you have tasted that the Lord is good.” 1 Peter 2:1-3 NIV   “But the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you.”  John 14:26 NIV ". . . for the Holy Spirit will teach you at that time what you should say.” Luke 12:12

The third of three boys, my youngest grandson is always trying to keep up with his big brothers, and he has more try than anybody I know. It started at a very early age, evident even as he began to learn to walk. Before his legs could keep up with his brain, he would trip and stumble and fall . . . repeatedly! But it never kept him down. Back up he would climb, trying again . . . and again . . . and again. The goose egg on his head was testament to his encounter with the corner of the coffee table. The bruise on his cheek came from the tile flooring by the patio door. Yet, despite all the failed attempts, the frustrations, the injuries, he kept on trying.   It was at this very time, as he was learning to walk, that I began my jail ministry. I had had a particularly rough week, feeling as though I was completely inadequate. I didn’t know how to answer their questions, I didn’t know enough Scripture, I still failed to love them unconditionally, I found myself judging . . . again. There was a voice in my head telling me to just give up! I was probably doing more harm than good. They would be better off without my visits to the jail. I was listening to that voice as I watched my tenacious grandson take a particularly tough spill and crack his forehead on the coffee table . . . again. As I watched him determinedly get back up, I heard another voice. It was saying,  “Get back up! Go back in. Just as he keeps getting better, you will get better too. Someday he will be running! So will you. Get up, my daughter.”  I’m not saying it was an audible voice. It was a whisper of the Spirit to my wounded soul. And with it came this dawning realization that I wanted to run!   I thought about what would happen if my grandson just gave up. I had this ridiculous image in my head of a 15-year-old crawling around the living room. Too timid to get up and try to walk. Too afraid of failure. Too afraid of getting hurt. What would he miss?! No tag, no baseball, no football. Can you just imagine him crawling down the aisle on his wedding day?! It seemed so silly, but without a little try—without persistence—that’s where he would end up.   Another dawning realization was that, for these many years in my spiritual walk, I had actually been crawling. I am so grateful for my little grandson’s unintentional witness. I resolved to keep trying. I would get better. I might fail. I might “crack my head on the coffee table.” But I would just get up and try again. I didn’t want to miss out on what God had planned for me. I wanted to run!   “You need to persevere so that when you have done the will of God, you will receive what he has promised.” Hebrews 10:36 NIV    “ Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith.” Hebrews 12:1-2a NIV   “Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.”  Romans 5:3-4 NIV   “Then we will no longer be infants, tossed back and forth by the waves, and blown here and there by every wind of teaching and by the cunning and craftiness of people in their deceitful scheming. Instead, speaking the truth in love, we will grow to become in every respect the mature body of him who is the head, that is, Christ.” Ephesians 4:14-15 NIV

I don’t have a green thumb . . . I don’t even pretend to have a green thumb! Gardening is not something I enjoy, and it certainly isn’t something I am good at. However, I do love flowers. I love the color they bring to my porch and deck, and the joy they bring to my heart. So, I have settled on potted annuals to brighten up our outdoor space. With a little advice from others and a lot of help from my husband, I manage to keep hearty petunias and marigolds alive in various pots staged here and there on the deck—strategically positioned so I can enjoy them from my favorite chair in the family room, as well.   The scorching heat of a South Dakota summer day has been an unlikely teacher in my foray into horticulture. While it seems like a good idea to give the flowers a little drink every day, in the long run you are setting yourself up for failure. With constant, small doses of water, the roots are never encouraged to grow deep. They stay happily near the surface drinking in the water you give them every day. But what about the weekends you head out of town? Or the days you simply forget? (I’m just saying, it may have happened a time or two!) The surface water quickly evaporates, and the poor plants are set to wilt and scorch in the heat of the day.   If you give a bigger drink of water once or twice a week, the little roots are challenged to stretch down to the moist depths for the water they need. This moisture doesn’t dry out so quickly and deep roots mean the plant can make it through a stretch of drought due to your absence . . . or forgetfulness. Better yet, water fortified with a fertilizer like Miracle Gro® will really help your plants thrive. And a process known as “deadheading,” where you cut off all the dead flower heads, will encourage the plant to focus on flower production rather than using energy for seed production. This kind of nurturing will really give you a profuse array of flowers, with vibrant colors and rich greenery.   As I walk this journey, discipling and being discipled, I am learning there are some great spiritual truths we can learn from some of these basic gardening principles. I fear that as I have walked with some, I may be guilty of overwatering. My intentions are always good. I intend to help them, whether with a financial need or tasks at hand—and there are indeed times when those are good things. However, sometimes God uses those hard times to stretch their faith—helping them to grow deeper roots. If I am always “watering,” I can impede that growth. Worse yet, they may even come to depend on me , rather than God!    And sometimes meeting those material needs isn’t even the kind of help they really need. It may bring relief for a time, but it isn’t helping them to learn how to endure the “droughts” or hard times they may have yet to face. While “water” is essential to life, there is a distinct difference between physical water and spiritual water. What we really need is living  water! The gospel and the teachings of God’s Word are the Miracle Gro® of our faith. This is the nourishment we really need to blossom and thrive. And while we never like the process of “deadheading,” sometimes we need to let God remove those things which are draining our energy rather than producing life. Removing the people and things that aren’t bringing us closer to God will result in our energy being focused on the things of God rather than the things of this world! The truth is, God generously offers both abundant life and eternal life as we yield our lives to the skilled hands of the Master Gardener.    So, I find myself praying for wisdom regarding when and how much to water into the lives of others. God implores that we “help the poor and the needy.” We are certainly called to “go therefore and make disciples of all nations.” Yet, we must also take care not to “overwater.” I pray for discernment between helping and hurting, empowering and enabling.  Oswald Chambers, a man after God’s own heart, put it this way:   “One of the most difficult lessons we ever learn is that we must not interfere in other people’s lives. It takes us a long time to learn this lesson. We stubbornly refuse to realize the danger of playing the amateur providence by interfering with God’s plans for others. We see someone suffering, and we say, “That person will not suffer. I’ll make sure of it.” In order to prevent their suffering, we raise a hand against God’s permissive will. How does God answer? He says, “What is that to you? You must follow me.””     - Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest (Modern Classic version)   We want to be loving, we want to be kind, we want to be nice. But the truth is, we live in a culture that is making it increasingly difficult to understand the difference between “loving” and “nice.” I’m afraid the reality of it is that sometimes love doesn’t look too nice—it looks more like deadheading or outright pruning, which can be painful. Sometimes love is not helping, so that God can finish the work he is doing in that person’s life. Lord, help me, that I would not be an “amateur providence.”   Chambers points to the passage we find in John 21:21-22 where Peter asked of Jesus what his plans were for John, “ When Peter saw him, he asked, “Lord, what about him?” Jesus answered . . . “What is that to you? You must follow me.”” Perhaps we need to spend more time worrying about our own walk with the Lord. And on that intimate, side-by-side, hand-in-hand walk with the Lord, he will tell us when it is time to water, and when we may need to allow life’s circumstances to help them grow deeper roots. We should all have a watering can at the ready, filled to the brim with godly generosity—of our time, our talents, and our treasure. We just need to walk closely enough with the Lord to know when we should use it. And let’s never forget to use living water—not only meeting physical needs, which offers temporary relief, but lavishly pouring out love and truth, which offers eternal life!    “The seed falling on rocky ground refers to someone who hears the word and at once receives it with joy. But since they have no root, they last only a short time. When trouble or persecution comes because of the word, they quickly fall away.” Matthew 13:20-21    "I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful." John 15:1-2   “On the last and greatest day of the festival, Jesus stood and said in a loud voice, “Let anyone who is thirsty come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as Scripture has said, rivers of living water will flow from within them.” John 7:37-38   “Do not be yoked together with unbelievers. For what do righteousness and wickedness have in common? Or what fellowship can light have with darkness?” 2 Corinthians 6:14   “Remain in me, as I also remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me.” John 15:4

As my friend and I began our women’s ministry at the county jail, I began noticing that many of these women would talk about their "mom" or their "daughter," yet I was realizing they weren’t their real mom or daughter.  At first, I thought it may just be one of those blended family issues, with steps and exes, etc.  But then I began realizing there was no formal relationship at all.  These were simply broken women, finding family in each other.  Often, they were women who had been taken from their moms and placed in foster care, and then had borne children that were taken from them  and placed in foster care.  Younger women and older women who found each other—on the streets or in the jail—and bonded in a special way.  It made me realize how strong the desire is to be nurtured and to nurture.  Even in the chaos of their worlds, where the God-given family structure was nowhere to be found and even their version of family had been annihilated by their circumstances and their choices, these women longed to be mothers and longed to be daughters.  And so, I would see these 40 somethings taking the 20 somethings under their wings, to console, to mentor, to teach.  It was beautiful in a sad way.  Strong testament to the God-given urge to give and receive love in the bonds of family, heart-breaking to see how far removed it was from what God had originally intended.   One day, only two came out for Bible study.  It may have been one of those "mother"/"daughter" relationships.  The 40 something had been coming regularly, and it was clear that she had a lot of clout in the block.  Even as she attended Bible study and was truly making strides in her faith walk, it was pretty clear that only certain gals came out when she came and others would stay back, even if they may have liked to come.  (Justification may come quickly, sanctification is most certainly a process!)  Regardless, this day just the two of them came to Bible study.  It didn’t take long to realize that the 40 something had a bit of an agenda, and it seemed to be an attempt to create a place for the 20 something to share her story and seek the help she needed.  God could use even the "clout" and the "screening" for his good!   The young woman began to just pour her heart out.  In the times that I had met her previously, it was clear that she had little to no education.  She had made it sound like she was in trouble for stealing at Walmart.  She had had questions about whether it was okay to lie in order to protect people she cared about or to try to minimize her sentence.  Yet on that day, as her story poured out, so much became clear.  No wonder she did not have an education, she had already been in the sex industry for years.  She had been  arrested at Walmart, but it was for trying to "recruit" other young girls into the trade.  She was wondering about lying because she was looking at some serious charges and a lengthy sentence for her role in the sex trafficking circles.    And yet, as I listened to her and watched her, I couldn’t help but wonder . . . who was the victim here?  This was the same girl that had naively asked what would happen if a woman had sex with a horse. We had been studying how kinds reproduced after their own kinds in Genesis, and her question certainly caught me off guard.  I had taught a lot of Sunday school classes and not one child had ever asked me that question! She went on to explain that when she was like 5, she and her cousin were watching a porn movie where a woman was having sex with a horse.  (She did offer a brief comment that she realized she shouldn’t have been watching that.  You think?!)  Her older and wiser cousin—age 7—had informed her that the baby would be half human and half horse.  This 20 something still did not know that this was not how it really was!  I had an innocent, five-year-old grandson at the time.  I tried to keep my jaw from hitting the table as she shared this story from her childhood.  What kind of life could a child hope to lead if they were exposed to bestiality at 5!!!  Little did I know at the time, but this is a common way in which traffickers "groom" young children for the sex industry.   I can still remember her just sobbing.  The feds wanted to meet with her.  They expected her to rat on the others in the racket—her "cousins," which I would come to learn were more likely fellow gang members than her aunt and uncle’s children.  In exchange they would give her some leniency in her sentencing.  The sobs racked her body as she cried out, “Who is going to look out for me!  The feds expect me to help them out, but who will help me!  Sure, I might get out or get out earlier, but to what?  I’ll just get sucked right back into the same lifestyle, the same awful things, the same running and hiding.  Who is going to help me!”  My friend and I just looked at each other.  We hadn’t been coming to the jail very long.  We were green, we were naïve, we were shocked to our core as we caught glimpses of a life we knew absolutely nothing of.   A life that we wanted to pretend didn’t really happen, not in the real world.  But the hard truth was that it did.  And this 20 something was just one of so many.    My friend and I had come wanting to make a difference.  We had been convicted that we were to move beyond the walls of the church.  Jesus had left the synagogue in Jerusalem to care for the lepers and the outcasts . . . where was our mission field?  Well, this was it.  The jail would teach us so many things, hard truths, helpful responses, not-so-helpful responses.  The light of Christ certainly shines brightly in such darkness, and that was something that we could bring in with us—past all the security guards, the metal detectors, through the heavy doors that slammed shut behind us.  But what about when these women walked out those heavy, slamming doors?  What would they be returning to?  And what was God asking us to do about it?   As a part of my work at the Christian camp God had pointed me towards, I had recently visited a horse ministry for young girls in Minnesota.  One that was specifically for young women caught up in trafficking.  We shared that bit of hope with her.  Maybe she could find a place like that to help her start a new life.   My friend had been learning all about trauma-informed care because of struggles she had faced with her adopted son, who had experienced trauma at a young age.  She had shared of her desire to start, what she called, The Brain House.  A place where people understood how trauma impacted the brain and, thus, behaviors.  At one of our first coffees, we had agreed, maybe we were to combine our visions.  Horses are a really powerful tool in the battle against trauma.  As we stood in the hub area at the jail, waiting for the next block to come out, she just looked at me and said, “We need to build The Brain House.”   Little did we know that these little steps of obedience would lead us to the founding of a nonprofit we would call Chrysalis . . . and, ultimately, to unveiling truths of what brings genuine transformation.   “Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her” Ephesians 5:25 NIV   “Wives, submit yourselves to your own husbands as you do to the Lord.” Ephesians 5:22 NIV   “Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right.” Ephesians 6:1 NIV   “Just as a nursing mother cares for her children,   so we cared for you.” 1 Thessalonians 2:7b-8a NIV

John 14:21 has become somewhat of a life verse for me. You see, I always thought that keeping his commands meant: following the rules —you know, commands , like the ten commandments. Somehow, I made that into me trying to be good enough. Oh, I knew all the scriptures about how we aren’t saved by works, but rather by grace. And yet, I found myself striving . . .  for perfection. I also found myself comparing myself to others to see how I was doing, which led to being self-righteous and judgmental. I fear I more often brought the Bad  News to people.    Without realizing it, I had ascribed to "checkbox Christianity." I thought that going to church regularly, serving on committees, singing in the choir, teaching Sunday School, and serving at potlucks would surely show my love for him! And while it did, I fear I had been missing the whole point. 1 Corinthians 13 reminds us of the importance of love. Without it, even the most profound words sound like the annoying clang of a cymbal and the deepest knowledge and faith mean nothing. Matthew 23 warns of hypocrisy and scolds the religious leaders of the day. Despite their attention to the details of religious traditions and rituals, they had failed to love . . .  to show compassion and mercy. Had I fallen prey to the same misled convictions?   Now, as I follow my trail of "bread crumbs," I realize that I am  following His commands . . .  that are specifically for me  for today ! When I claim Christ as my Lord, he becomes my Master. Therefore, I need to follow his commands—for I am his servant. And in doing so, he is pleased and promises to show himself to me. And, indeed, he has! I have been blessed by this revelation. He has become more real than I had ever thought possible. And I have become consumed by the desire to share these realizations with others. I believe that is called . . .  sharing the Good  News!   “Whoever has my commands and keeps them is the one who loves me. The one who loves me will be loved by my Father, and I too will love them and show myself to them.”   John 14:21 NIV   “For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith— and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God – not by works, so that no one can boast.” Ephesians 2:8-9 NIV   “If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.” 1 Corinthians 13:1-3 NIV   “Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You give a tenth of your spices— mint, dill and cumin. But you have neglected the more important matters of the law— justice, mercy and faithfulness. You should have practiced the latter, without neglecting the former.” Matthew 23:23 NIV

When I first started going to the jail, the sights and sounds and smells were unfamiliar and intimidating. The stark halls, the masses of concrete and metal, the slamming doors. It became familiar and less intimidating, but for the longest time there was one thing that was just so frustrating. The wait. You would approach a door, push a button and wait. Get to the next door, maybe only four feet ahead of you, push a button and . . . waaaiiiitttt.    I remember waiting at one door in a tiny little vestibule, for what seemed an interminably long time. In the early days, I was still in my "efficient," "productive" mode—you know what they say, "time is money." So, this waiting was for the birds! Absolutely nothing was going on in the halls in front of or behind me—to the right or to the left. Why in the world couldn’t someone simply push the button that made this door open?! I became more accustomed to it and I think that I also began to just be a little more laid back in general but, still, I would find myself wondering, “What is the hold up here?” I could see no reason for the wait.   In the weeks and months that passed, I came and went from the jail and one thing I observed was that behind the front desk there was a room. This room had darkened windows where shadowy figures moved silently about and the faint glow from so many screens found its way past the heavy tint. Over time, it registered that these screens monitored every part of the jail, all the hallways, all the activity. It was like the "all-seeing eye." The power to open and shut all the doors resided in that room.    The other thing I observed over the weeks and months was that, at times, long lines of inmates—many in shackles and chains—would make their way from the jail to the courtroom. At times, the sound of pounding feet and the sight of guards running down the hallway would be the only indication of some skirmish or uproar somewhere in the bowels of the jail. At times, a gurney and medical staff—attending to one of the inmates suffering from sickness . . . injury . . . overdose . . . suicide attempt—would rush past the door and round the corner.    Over the weeks and months, glimpses of these incidences birthed an awareness and an understanding of just why there were periods of . . . waaaiiiitttt. And from this awareness and understanding came an epiphany, of sorts. Isn’t that just like our walk with God? We are ready—or at least we think we are. We see no reason to wait. Why won’t the doors of opportunity open already?! But then, God is the ultimate "all-seeing eye." He knows what obstacles lie ahead, what danger lurks around the corner, what needs to be prepared before we move ahead. He sees the past, the present, and the future . . . and his timing is perfect.    I now wait for the doors in the jail with a lot more patience. I pray that I will grow in my patience as I wait upon the Lord, as well. I now trust that the guards know what they are doing and when it is safe for me to advance to the next door. How much more should I put my trust in the God of the universe?! After all, scripture promises that those who wait upon the Lord will soar on wings like eagles.  I long to soar! So . . . I will wait. Imperfectly and impatiently at times, but I will wait.   “The eyes of the Lord are everywhere, keeping watch on the wicked and the good.” Proverbs 15:3 NIV   “Tell us, you idols, what is going to happen. Tell us what the former things were, so that we may consider them and know their final outcome. Or declare to us the things to come, tell us what the future holds, so we may know that you are g ods. Do something, whether good or bad, so that we will be dismayed and filled with fear. But you are less than nothing and your works are utterly worthless; whoever chooses you is detestable.” Isaiah 41:22-24 NIV   “…Grace and peace to you from him who is, and who was, and who is to come,…” Revelation 1:4 NIV

It was my very first time in the jail. I was just shadowing, in fact. I would be doing a Bible study on Wednesday afternoons, but I had gone with the ladies who did the church service on Sundays. I would learn the ropes—figure out where I needed to go and how to navigate the locked doors and corridors. I would be a fly on the wall, just there to watch. They had given me one rule: no hugs.   We meandered through the maze, and I was thinking this had been a really good idea—I would have been totally lost coming alone! I quietly tagged along as we made our way to our destination. As the women gathered at the sliding door and spilled out once it opened, there was quite a bit of talking and even laughing, but one woman caught my eye. She looked so sad! She was crying so hard she could barely breathe. The story that poured out of her to another woman was disjointed and almost incoherent. I couldn’t help but overhear. Something about her car being towed, somebody stealing a bunch of her stuff, the reality of her losing the apartment if she didn’t come up with rent, her son being sent to the juvenile detention center. Many of the details were lost in sobs and sniffles, but the main gist was pretty clear: when she got out, she would have nothing.   No hugs.  That one rule, which had seemed easy enough to follow, kept running through my head.  No hugs.  Even though I didn’t know this woman at all—and I had absolutely no idea what she was in jail for—the raw pain I saw in her face was  begging  me to console her, to bring comfort.  No hugs.   The group wandered down the hall and made their way into the room where we would hold the service. As the other volunteers got the TV set up and the praise and worship music started, I sat quietly in the background, watching. A fly on the wall. I was supposed to be watching how they got everything set up—but I couldn’t take my eyes off that woman. The others began to sing and praise. A devotional was shared, and the videotaped sermon was started. I just kept looking over at that woman. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. They had told me no hugs. They never said anything about offering a tissue. So I grabbed a few from the bag we had brought in with us and made my way over to the woman. She looked up with tear-filled eyes and tear-streaked cheeks and wordlessly accepted the tissues. I gave what I hoped was an encouraging smile and made my way back to my spot. A fly on the wall.   The service ended, and we retraced our steps, returning the women to their block and making our way out of the maze of corridors. It was my first time in the jail. I left feeling completely inadequate.   Months later, someone from the church shared a letter with me. The return address was for a federal prison in Texas. It was from that woman in the jail. She proceeded to thank the church for sending people into the jail, sharing how much it meant to her. You see, that day she had given up all hope. Raised by a father who was a pastor, she went to that church service to make amends with the God of her youth. A God that had seemed absent as she had struggled with so much, for so long. And having made amends, she had planned to return to her cell and end her life.   At least, that was what she had planned . . . until a woman handed her a tissue! That one simple act had restored her faith that there was still hope! She went on to share how God had been working in her life since that day. Even though she would spend a few years in federal prison, she was attending church and every Bible study group they offered. She was taking self-help classes and even working on her GED. She was filled with hope and plans for her future! She asked if they would share her letter with that woman who shared the tissue . . .   I had my own tears streaming down my cheeks as I read her letter. They were partly for this woman, tears of joy. But they were partly in awe of the God we serve. He knew me, his daughter. He knew my feelings of inadequacy. He knew well that I would go in worrying about if I would know the right thing to do, the right words to say, the right scriptures to share. He made sure that I knew that as I went into the jail, I didn’t necessarily need to share all kinds of wisdom or advice or assistance in order to help these women. I just needed love—a crazy, radical, undeserved, and unconditional love.  His  love, overflowing from the place where he dwelled, within my heart. And maybe a tissue!   “How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and day after day have sorrow in my heart? How long will my enemy triumph over me?     Look on me and answer, Lord my God. Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death, and my enemy will say, I have overcome him,” and my foes will rejoice when I fall.” Psalm 13:1-4 NIV   “…I did not come with eloquence or human wisdom as I proclaimed to you the testimony about God. …My message and my preaching were not with wise and persuasive words, but with a demonstration of the Spirit’s power, so that your faith might not rest on human wisdom, but on God’s power.” 1 Corinthians 2:1b, 4-5 NIV   “But I trust in your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation. I will sing the Lord’s praise, for he has been good to me.” Psalm 13:5-6 NIV

In this fruitful season of waiting, I continued to wonder what God had in store at that Christian camp. I decided to go speak to someone there—you know, to give them a heads up on God’s plans! With no director on staff yet, I ended up speaking with the administrative assistant who greeted me with a bright smile and a welcoming presence.   We sat at some tables next to a big bank of windows overlooking the beautiful rolling hills and trees. As we settled in with some introductions and small talk, she told me about how you can often see eagles there (God wink!). And then, I began to pour my heart out. She listened intently as I shared all that God had been up to—well, I couldn’t share everything that God had done, but even the highlights provided enough evidence that something far beyond "coincidence" was going on here. I shared that I had not sought out this position, but rather that it would seem God had brought me to it! How God had been working and pointing me to the camp. How it seemed that I was to perhaps help with the horse ministry, if not more. That even though I had not been considered for the director position, it would seem clear that I was to be involved with their ministry in some way . . .     When I wrapped up, she leaned back and said, “Well, I have so many things going on in my head right now. First of all, as I listen to you speak, it occurs to me that you should be a speaker of some sort! Your story is so inspiring! I hear so often that people don’t hear from God, they don’t see him in their life, they find themselves wondering where he is. It is so refreshing and inspiring to hear from someone who sees God so clearly in their everyday!”    She went on to say, “And it’s funny that you should come today . . .” (This always smelled like breadcrumbs!) “We just offered the position to an individual yesterday, so I can share his name with you.” He had been pastoring a small church in Iowa and his denomination was currently considering his resignation. She went on to say that perhaps I could meet with him to see what his thoughts were on the matter.    I set about to do some research and tracked this man down on the internet. I found the website for the church he served and a link took me to the church newsletters. I opened the most recent one, wondering if perhaps there would be an announcement that he had accepted the position at the camp. Scrolling to the Letter from the Pastor  page, I began to read. What would I learn about this man who had been called to be the director? This man whom I felt sure that I would be working with. . .  The letter shared of a trip that he and his wife had been making across the state, when they got a call that his father was doing poorly. Unsure of whether they should continue on or return home, he writes about the moment he looked up to see an eagle soaring in the sky!  He went on to share the passage from Isaiah about soaring on wings like eagles—the same verse God had put on my heart. Coincidence? I think not.   I did end up arranging a meeting with this man (indeed, I had become quite accustomed to acquainting myself with strangers!) and came to learn that he loved horses, too! That his family had been instrumental in establishing an arena for their local riding club. That he had a heart for the broken and that he believed that horses could be an amazing tool to bring hope and healing for those who need it most. Coincidence? I think not.    While l wouldn’t be the director, I did begin to work with the camp. Initially, I was hired as a consultant to share vision about how the horse ministry could be expanded and serve even more people. I was then brought on as a part-time employee—initially working 10 hours a week, eventually up to 20 hours a week.   I think there are many who wondered what my role really was there . . . perhaps the director and other employees included! Some thought I had come to raise funds, others to develop the horse ministry, yet others had absolutely no idea. I was a strange camp employee. I spent most of my time off site—doing jail ministry, going to various institutions that served people from hard places, attending conferences on trauma, developing collaborations with other ministries. In my defense, the job description the director and I came up with had started with: Follow the leading of the Holy Spirit. So, from my base at the camp—my office in a janitor’s closet! (I guess the Lord was still trying to peel my pride from clenched fists !) —I went wherever the Spirit led. Getting used to the idea of not having people’s approval or acceptance. Getting used to having people look at me like I was crazy. Getting used to seeing God move in the most amazing ways! Even as I wandered on my Spirit-led sojourn, as people wondered when I would begin "working": . . . God showed up with a half a million-dollar pledge  for the horse ministry! I hadn’t asked anybody for it.  But I had been  praying about it!   “Am I now trying to win the approval of human beings, or of God? Or am I trying to please people? If I were still trying to please people, I would not be a servant of Christ.” Galatians 1:10 NIV   “Very truly I tell you, my Father will give you whatever you ask in my name. Until now you have not asked for anything in my name. Ask and you will receive, and your joy will be complete.” John 16:23b-24 NIV   “He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all – how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?” Romans 8:32 NIV   “If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you.” John 15:7 NIV

In this time of waiting, I found myself in the coffee shops once again. In biblical times, the well was a place of communal gathering—some have called coffee shops the modern well. I enjoyed the smell of roasting coffee beans and the peaceful ambience as I saw people turning the pages of their bible and overheard muted conversations about Jesus. I, myself, was working on a Bible study in one of the comfy chairs by the fire at my favorite coffee shop when I was joined by one of my dear friends. I call her my "cool drink of water." When I felt dry and parched, she would bring encouragement that was like a glass of cold water on a hot day. How often her sweet words of encouragement had given me the strength to carry on. Today was no exception.    It was such a confusing time. There was the possible horse ministry . . . the creation ministry . . . the job at the camp . . . or not? It was just so confusing. I don’t remember what all was said, but I know I was left refreshed and rejuvenated. I could continue to wait on the Lord another day. As we stood to say our goodbyes, I do remember standing there, halfway to the door, receiving her hug and sharing some final thoughts.    “I don’t know where God is leading, but I do know that if I continue in horse ministry, it can’t be about the horse. It seems like such a slippery slope. So often it becomes all about the horse and God is sort of pushed out the back door . . .” I bemoaned the fact that, as I had been out in the community promoting HorsePower, I was expected to use the tagline: "the power of the horse to heal." I just couldn’t continue to espouse that—I knew  who had the real power to heal. I finished by saying, “Whatever ministry I step into, God needs to get all the glory.” She agreed wholeheartedly and, with a final hug, we parted ways.   Returning to the Bible study I had set aside, the second verse I was to look up was Psalm 33:20. After finding Psalm 33, I ran my finger down the page to find verse 20. The last verse on that page was verse 17, so with my finger resting on it I went to turn the page to continue my search when my eyes took in the words my finger was pointing to . . . something about a horse. Interesting. I went on to read it in its entirety , “A horse is a vain hope for deliverance; despite all its great strength it cannot save.” I kid you not. Just a few short minutes after my conversation with my friend, God pointed out to me in scripture precisely what I had just stated! A verse I don’t remember seeing before. A verse I never would have sought out on my own. Yet, there it was, jumping off the page at me. How much more specific could it have been?! It was, quite literally, precisely what I had just shared.   Eager to see what verse 20 said, I turned the page to find, “We wait in hope for the Lord; he is our help and our shield.” Goosebumps were raised on my arms and the hair stood up on my neck. This was no accident, no coincidence. This was God in heaven affirming what I had just told my friend. You are getting this right, daughter! This is the way, walk in it!  The horse would not be the one to save these broken and hurting people. While a useful tool and an effective therapy, the horse was merely that—a tool. It was God that would heal, God that would save! I was resolved, now more than ever, to put my hope in the Lord. To wait on the Lord. Whether my ministry ever used horses again, or not.    “Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing.” 1 Thessalonians 5:11 NIV   “To our God and Father be glory for ever and ever. Amen.” Philippians 4:20 NIV   “A horse is a vain hope for deliverance; despite all its great strength it cannot save.” Psalm 33:17 NIV   “We wait in hope for the Lord; he is our help and our shield.” Psalm 33:20 NIV

In the midst of a season of waiting in the fog, unclear of where God would lead next, there were a couple instances where God prompted me to reach out to someone. Just send a text, give them a call. They were gentle, yet persistent nudges that didn’t seem like a big deal. He wasn’t asking much of me—it would have been easy to miss them, ignore them, to simply say  no . But even in these simple steps of obedience, God would show up in some pretty amazing ways.   The God of Angel Armies   My brother has had a long and hard struggle with addictions of almost every kind. Watching God work in his life has been one of the most powerful impacts in my faith walk. The Bible talks of being "made new." I watched it happen to my brother. By the grace of God, he was walking victorious over the power of alcohol and drugs and gambling.   In his newfound freedom, he chose to testify in the sentencing hearing for the drug dealer he had distributed for. On the morning he was to testify, I knew it would be a scary deal and that he may be feeling a bit anxious. So, before I started my volunteer work at my church, I sent him a simple text of encouragement, “Speak the truth in love.” His response affirmed that he was indeed feeling anxious and frightened. I responded with the next thing that came to me, “The God of angel armies is always by your side.”   I was helping one of the pastors that morning, and I shared with him that I would need to leave around 10 a.m. to be with my mom while my brother testified in court. I thought that I was at peace with it all, but I did find myself checking the clock frequently, a little anxious about the whole thing and how the morning would go. As I was writing events on a giant wall calendar, my back was to the pastor as he worked quietly at his desk. Suddenly, I heard him singing—quietly, but clearly, “The God of angel armies is always by your side”! Nothing before, nothing after, just the one line of the chorus. The one I had sent to my brother just a short time before!   Now, I had never heard this pastor sing at work before, or since. And there are a lot of songs, even if you narrow it down to praise and worship songs, and many lines within that one song. So, what were the odds that he would sing that line, out loud, right after I had sent a silent text just moments before with that very same line? It is things like this, coincidences (not!), that have helped me see that there is a God above. And he just keeps getting bigger.   The very next day, a dear friend came to see me with her newborn—a precious baby boy that I would be blessed to become the godmother of! As I held him, sleeping in my arms, he suddenly squirmed and twisted up his little red face—whimpering and on the verge of crying—as though he was having a bad dream. Instinctively, I reached to gently stroke his cheek, softly caressing his baby-soft skin. Reassuring him that he was not alone, that I was right there with him. As quickly as his distress had arisen, his peaceful slumber resumed.   It was in that moment, that I realized that that was precisely what God had done for me the day before. As I began to fret and stew over my brother’s predicament, the God of heaven reached down to gently stroke my cheek. Reassuring me that I was not alone, that he was right there with me. In that moment, I knew that God cared deeply for  me . He saw me, he knew me, he loved me. That’s pretty personal.   WOW!!   Another time, as I was doing my morning devotionals and spending time with the Lord, a woman’s name kept coming to mind. She had been a volunteer at HorsePower. We had certainly gotten to know each other a bit and enjoyed each other, but I would not say we had become friends. We hadn’t spent time together outside of her volunteer service at HorsePower. And I wasn’t even with HorsePower anymore. Why did she keep coming to mind? I felt like I should call her, but that was weird, right? What would I even say? And what would she think of a call from me at 7:30 in the morning . . . out of the blue? I can remember arguing with God a bit.  Why in the world would I call her — and at this hour?  He was persistent.  Well, that’s just awkward. I do have her number in my phone, but I don’t even know if it’s right for me to call her for any reason other than HorsePower related calls .  . .  The nagging feeling remained. I finally agreed to compromise.  Well, okay, God. But I am going to text.   So, at 7:30 a.m. on a random weekday morning, I shot a text off to this volunteer—from my old job. I texted something like, “Good morning! I just wanted you to know that you have been on my heart this morning as I am spending some time in prayer. Hope things are going well with you!” There. I had done it.   It wasn’t but a few seconds when my phone’s text alert went off. I opened the text to find her response:   WOW!!! You wouldn’t believe where I am. I am in the emergency room with my son. He is going to need to have an emergency appendectomy! And my ex just showed up and things are getting really tense. I was losing it. I didn’t know how I was going to handle all this stress and then you sent that text.   Again, wow! I  wouldn’t  have believed it. No wonder God had wanted me to reach out to this woman! I am so glad that I put aside my “weird” filter and just went ahead and did it. Both of us got to see how amazing God is! He saw her in her struggle and asked one of his daughters to reach out and give her some encouragement. Warms my heart in a really reverent kind of way. This was one of many ways in which God was teaching me to just say yes—even if it does seem weird. Or inconvenient. Or hard. Or impossible! When we obey, we get to see God. I wish I would have called her, rather than chickening out and texting. I wonder what our conversation would have looked like! But God still used it, my half-hearted yes. He was building my faith and my desire to respond to him—even in the little things. Now, I wanted to wade in deeper. Until I was  all in ! Little did I know what lay ahead.   “Then Micaiah continued, “Listen to what the Lord says! I saw the Lord sitting on his throne with all the armies of heaven around him, on his right and on his left.” 1 Kings 22:19 NIV   “When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is mankind that you are mindful of them, human beings that you care for them?” Psalm 8:3-4­­ NIV   “Whoever has my commands and keeps them is the one who loves me. The one who­­ loves me will be loved by my Father, and I too will love them and show myself to them.”” John 14:21 NIV   “And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another advocate to help you and be with you forever – the Spirit of truth. The world cannot accept him, because it neither sees him nor knows him. But you know him, for he lives with you and will be in you.” John 14:16-17 NIV   “For prophecy never had its origin in the human will, but prophets, though human, spoke from God as they were carried along by the Holy Spirit. 2 Peter 1:21 NIV

Early in the season of waiting, shortly after leaving HorsePower and as I was still wondering what might come of the apparent call to the Christian camp, a friend mentioned an apologetics ministry that I should know about. Now, for those who are unfamiliar with the term, apologetics comes from the Greek word apologia . It is not  making apologies for our faith, but rather it is making a reasoned defense  for our faith. My friend had lived for some time up near the Twin Cities in Minnesota, where this apologetics ministry had been flourishing for nearly forty years.    While I knew it wouldn’t hurt to look into it, the Cities seemed a bit far for close collaborations—it was about a four-hour drive. I was busy with my volunteering, and perhaps a little deaf to his call.  In the end, I never did reach out to them. I walked right past that breadcrumb. Then, one day, my husband asked me to take his hearing aid in to be looked at. He said the volume knob was kind of poking out, and he hoped to have it fixed before it really broke.    When I took it in, they told me they could take a look at it right away, could I wait? I had time—after all, I was waiting —so   I took a seat in their lobby. On the coffee table in front of me lay a copy of our local newspaper. I never read the paper. But the front page was folded poorly and sort of propped up . . . with the front-page photo almost staring me in the face . . . with a headline that grabbed my attention:  Father’s Heroism Ends in Tragedy. I picked up the paper and started to read.   The photo was of the founder of that same apologetics ministry . . .  His son had drowned in a tragic accident as he attempted to save his own son from the currents along a rocky California coastline. While this man’s grandson was saved, his son was not. It was a tragedy indeed. I also learned from the story that in the years that had passed since my friend had met him, he had apparently moved to the Sioux Falls area—his house was only 16 miles from mine! Clearly, this was not the time to impose upon him, but I certainly took note. Seemed like God had wanted to make sure I knew.    I was noticing that—that if I missed one breadcrumb, he would often lay down another. It was ironic that I had been sitting in a place that sold and repaired hearing aids. Seems as though my husband wasn’t the only one who was hard of hearing! The other little piece of irony . . . there was nothing wrong with my husband’s hearing aid. That "volume knob" that was poking out was the stem that you used to pull the hearing aid out of your ear. My husband had had that hearing aid for years. I shouldn’t have even been in that store.   Turns out this man and his wife not only moved to my area, they attended my mom’s church and, after a time of grieving and healing, he was going to be doing a teaching series over the course of the summer. I decided to attend and introduce myself. I came to find out that he had been praying for a Timothy! Someone to pour into who may carry on his ministry as he moved towards retirement. The Siouxland Region was formalized not too much later, and we began to address how and where I would be doing my apologetics ministry.    This gentleman had been very successful in getting into churches and sharing with congregations and small groups, putting on conferences and the like. We decided to take a similar approach in the Siouxland Region and went about starting conversations with a number of local churches . . . without too much luck. With my experience in research and with a local hospital, we started a conversation about how to carry this message to some of the doctors and medical professionals in town . . . without too much luck. However, don’t ever sell God short. As I shared earlier, in this time of waiting , God had strategically placed me as a volunteer at my church and at a prayer ministry. It was in those appointed places that the doors flew open for me to carry this message—the gospel with evidence—into the county jail and the behavioral health center. The opportunities would grow to include the juvenile detention center, halfway houses, sober living homes and more. Isn’t it just like God, to find a way to reach the least and the lost?  To carry the light into the darkness . . .   “But they refused to pay attention; stubbornly they turned their backs and covered their ears.” Zechariah 7:11 NIV   “See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.” Psalm 43:19 NIV     “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’” Matthew 25:40 NIV   “For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.” Luke 19:10 NIV   “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” John 1:5 NIV

Confident in the Lord’s leading, I submitted my application for the director position at the Christian camp, and waited. For my interview. For the offer. But neither ever came. It was a Friday when I received the letter in the mail bearing the camp logo . . . I wasn’t even considered for an interview. I will have to admit, I spent Saturday in quite a funk. I could hardly believe it! How could this be possible? I kept looking at the plaque I had bought for our home office with Isaiah 40:31 painted over the picture of a soaring eagle. Had I heard God wrong . . .?   I had learned through my experience at HorsePower that, even if God leads you there, the going wasn’t always easy. In all fairness, the Bible warns that following Jesus won’t  be easy. Scripture says that we must pick up our cross and follow him—and after seeing The Passion  and its graphic depiction of Jesus’ crucifixion, "picking up our cross" took on a whole new meaning! Yet, the Bible also promises that God will go before us and will always be with us. And, in this particular case, I was reminded over and over that we could soar on wings like eagles. If only we waited on the Lord, he would be the wind beneath our wings.   On Sunday morning at our new church home, the pastor started a new sermon series called . . . The Waiting Room! He went on to say, “Maybe you find yourself in a season of waiting . . . maybe between jobs . . .” My husband was elbowing me in the ribs. It was as though the pastor was speaking directly to me. And then for the next slide, the picture of a soaring eagle . . . and Isaiah 40:31! The same verse God had put on my heart as I watched that eagle soar over the rolling hills of the Christian camp. The pastor was emphasizing the importance of waiting  while you wait— serving. Another breadcrumb, for sure. I was on the right path. I just had to wait.   So, I waited  while I waited. I volunteered every Monday morning at the church, where I would type the prayers that people submitted on Sunday. And I began to volunteer at a local prayer ministry, where I spent an entire afternoon each week in prayer with some of the most amazing prayer warriors I have ever met! While my friend from Topeka, KS had taught me the passion of prayer, these women taught me the power of prayer. I was learning that God is always at work, even when we don’t realize it. Teaching us, shaping us, battering us into something useful for his kingdom work.    As only God could orchestrate, during this season our new church began its jail ministry. Because God had me strategically placed at the church on Monday mornings (through what I had seen, initially, as rejection by the camp), I began to type the prayers of the people in the jail. And God began to break my heart for what breaks his. Maybe 5% of the average church attenders sought prayer, while probably 95% of the folks in the jail begged  for prayer. Their masks were off! And through these prayers, I began to see deeper and deeper into this world that I had previously only had glimpses of. Assumptions and stereotypes I had long held were challenged, judgments I didn’t realize I made were being exposed. These were broken people. Hurt people who hurt people. People  who loved their kids, loved their families, but were caught up in the cycle of poverty, neglect, abuse, addiction. People who wanted something different—who desperately wanted God. And he was making a way for me to bring them the gospel. In time, I would begin a weekly Bible study with the women in the jail.   Again, as only God could orchestrate, during this season the prayer center began to send prayer warriors in to pray with people after chapel at a local behavioral health center. As they went to pray with these people, they found they had SO many questions—questions even the prayer warriors didn’t feel equipped to handle. They were asking scientific questions, philosophical questions . . . hard  questions. Because God had me strategically placed at the prayer center, these women knew my heart to share the gospel with evidence. The director of the prayer center approached me, asking if I would be willing to help out with the behavioral health center’s spirituality groups. Would I share in the unique way that God had gifted me . . . the same way that he had reached me. Doors were opened that had previously seemed closed. I began to bring the Good News—with evidence—to people hungry  for the truth.   “…but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.” Isaiah 40:31 NIV   “Then Jesus said to his disciples, “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.”” Matthew 16:24 NIV   “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been alled according to his purpose.” Romans 8:28 NIV   “In him we were also chosen, having been predestined according to the plan of him who works out everything in conformity with the purpose of his will,” Ephesians 1:11 NIV