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I had the blessing of meeting a young man at the juvenile detention center. As so often happens when I go to minister to others, I find them ministering to me. As I go to share the gospel with them, their stories often bring the Good News alive to me in a fresh way. It was almost as though my sheltered, blessed life had kept me from truly seeing it in all its glory.   He came from an abusive past and had been through two adoptions by the age of four. We would like to believe that the wounds from early childhood trauma—abuse and neglect, abandonment—could be easily overcome as they enter the fold of a new family. But in fact, these wounds are not so easily healed. While raised in a Christian home, he pushed God away. He went from claiming that God didn’t exist . . . to blaming him…to simply ignoring him. He turned to cutting to try to mask the pain from the deep hurts within and he eventually entertained suicidal thoughts. He felt worthless . . . life seemed hopeless.    On the bed of a treatment center in another state, one facility in a string of many, he had an amazing view of the setting sun. It was one of the only things he found himself looking forward to each day. One day, the colors were spectacular and the sky itself was this amazing shade of blue . . . beyond description. As he stared at the splendor of the watercolor splashed across the horizon, his thoughts turned to the God he had tried so hard to push away. He found himself weeping uncontrollably—for two hours! It was as though God himself had come to meet with him, there in his deepest despair.    I don’t know if his tears were for the hurt others had done to him? The hurt he had done to others? Or simply awe in the presence of a mighty God, and joy in discovering that he was worthy and there was  hope! Since that day, life has been different. Not perfect, but very different. The rage subsided, replaced by a calm and peace he hadn’t known. His anger towards others was, for a time, refocused on himself for the hurt he had caused others. He continues to work on forgiveness—especially for himself. But now he has hope, he dares to dream of his future, and, most importantly, he desires to know more and more of God and his will for his life!    As we sat and visited, I saw him smile. He had his hands folded in his lap and his shoulders sort of drawn in and hunched forward . . . almost as though hugging himself. I commented, simply, “You look happy.” He responded with that same sweet smile, “I am.” I made a safe assumption and replied, “That’s not a very familiar emotion, is it?” His quick response was insightful and honest, “Not on the inside.” He went on to share that throughout his life, his “happy” times had been a mask over the deep hurt within. This smile, a smile that went all the way to his soul, was worth a million dollars . . . certainly worth the three hours spent on a Saturday morning in a barren cell with a table and two chairs. That smile was the smile of a new creation—in Christ. To God be the glory!   “I am worn out from my groaning. All night long I flood my bed with weeping and drench my couch with tears.” Psalm 6:6 NIV   “And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:7 NIV   “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come:  The old has gone, the new is here!” 2 Corinthians 5:17 NIV

Saturday spirituality groups at the behavioral health center are not mandatory, they are voluntary. I heard them announce over the loudspeaker, “If you would like to attend spirituality group, please join us in the cafeteria. If not, find something productive to do in your rooms.” I don’t know if they were excited to come or if it just sounded better than “something productive” in their rooms, but twenty adolescents showed up in the cafeteria that day. I was providing evidence for a global flood and receiving a number of questions (challenges), particularly from a couple of the kids. One girl was a pantheist—believing that God was in all things—and she was totally comfortable with everyone just believing whatever worked best for them. The other young man was an atheist—a proud atheist. Something in the way he said that, announced really, made me think of the Shakespearean quote, “Me thinks thee doth protest too much.” He, too, was fine with people believing whatever worked for them, but as for him—as he was quick to point out—there was nothing I could say to convince him there was a god. Again, Shakespeare. I kept doing my best to address their questions or observations or opinions with my own vantage point, through a biblical lens. The others were not as inquisitive, but they were listening. Engaged. Interested in this dialogue, which was probably not at all what they expected when called for spirituality group. As always, there was a burden on my heart to do God justice, to share truth in love, to bring the gospel of hope, forgiveness, and love to these kids who had so clearly been deeply hurt already in their young lives. After the hour-long session, the kids were filing out and I was getting my computer put away in the corner of the room. The proud atheist approached, asking if he could ask another question. That question led to the next question and we just kept visiting in the corner as the staff wiped down tables and prepared for the evening meal. We were still lively engaged when the kids began to return for supper, some sitting within arm’s reach of us as he continued to ask questions and to share about himself. He informed me that he was not only an atheist, he was also a homosexual—actually tran and pan, rattling off his sexual identity labels the culture has practically made trendy. He went on to say that he had been sexually abused in his mother’s home, and again after he was placed in foster care. At age five, he was placed in the care of his grandparents . . . meaning all that horrific abuse had happened before he likely even started kindergarten! And then he went on to describe his mom. He said that he could swear for an hour and not come close to describing how f***ing evil she was. He described his journey to find faith, dabbling in every faith imaginable—even the satanic for what he described as an “interesting” and “crazy” period in his life. He shared that he had largely felt rejected and shunned by Christians because of his homosexuality. And so that . . . all of that . . . was what had brought him to the conclusion that there was no god. He would be an atheist. A proud atheist. They say that sometimes getting to the heart of someone is like peeling an onion. People protect their heart with layer upon layer of defense and opposition. It can often take years of relationship and hours of conversation to get to the heart of the hurt that has shaped someone. This young man dropped layer after layer right there in the corner of the cafeteria. It was like the Bloomin’ Onion they serve at the Outback Steakhouse. Everything just peeled back to bare a broken soul. It was like the 15-year-old proud atheist was stripped away to a vulnerable little five-year-old right before my eyes. No wonder he was confused about his sexual identity. No wonder he had no desire to enter into a vulnerable, romantic relationship with a woman when the one who was supposed to have loved him violated that trust so badly. No wonder he wondered how there could be a God—especially a loving God—when so much evil had been done to him at such a tender age. No wonder he was so confused. I wished that our time wouldn’t have to come to an end, that we could just keep visiting, that I could fix everything for him as quickly as it had been revealed. He, too, seemed to want to linger, asking even if there was a way for us to continue the conversation. Was there a way he could reach me? Could we email? Strange that a proud atheist would be so inquisitive and eager to share so deeply with a Christian speaker who had shown up for a one-hour spirituality group . . . or was it? Just one more case where an evidence-based approach got me “in the door,” as the behavioral health center chaplain would say—engaging with evidence before asking to accept anything on faith. If there was evidence for the people, places and events of the Bible, maybe the Bible could be trusted? Maybe God was real? Maybe that young man was created with a purpose? And yet, while I know the evidence might have gotten me in the door, I also know it was Christ’s love—in me, for him—that peeled back the onion. No evidence could pry back the layers of hurt in such a short time. Only the love of Christ . . . the gospel . . . the Good News! If God had found it in his heart to forgive us even while we were yet sinners—maybe this young man could find a way to forgive? That is what would ultimately free him from the chains that held him captive far more than the locked doors and security system at the center. I wasn’t able to connect with that young man again. He was discharged before I was able to ask the chaplain if I might be given some additional time with him, one-on-one. I am left to pray that our encounter may have planted some seeds, to trust that God’s word would not return void, to believe that that vulnerable little boy inside the proud atheist might just find hope and healing after so much hurt. That what the enemy had intended for evil, God could use for good. Because, despite all of the evidence, that is what lies at the root of faith—being sure of what we cannot see. “…so is my word that goes out from my mouth: It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it. ” Isaiah 55:11 NIV “You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives.” Genesis 50:20 NIV “Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.” Hebrews 11:1 NIV

In my wanderings, as I followed God’s trail of breadcrumbs, I found myself involved with a number of ministries—working for some, volunteering for others.  At one point, I was very frustrated with the board and leadership of one of the ministries I was involved with, feeling rejected on all fronts, feeling like I was a part of so many ministries but not really a part of any of them.  I went to bed on a Friday night thinking that I would take some time on Saturday to reflect on those involvements and try to figure out if there was one ministry I should be pouring more into.  Maybe I did need to commit to a “team.”  Maybe I needed to thin some out and just pick one.   The Saturday morning vision went like this:  My husband and I were apparently at a restaurant or lounge.  There was a brightly lit reception area with big windows and the sun streaming in.  There was a large, limestone or slate fireplace that formed the wall between the waiting area and the seating area.  As there often is, there was one of those pedestal signs with the little white letters that slide onto the black grooves to spell out the instruction, “Please wait to be seated.”  In the vision, I had gone beyond the sign crossing over to the dimly lit seating area with the tables and booths where customers could be seated.  My husband was calling to me in a loud whisper as he pointed to the sign, “We’re supposed to wait to be seated!”   Upon awakening, I realized God was chiding me for thinking that I would just go pick my own ministry, my own path!  I could almost see God shaking an admonishing finger, gently saying, “You are to wait to be seated.  I will tell you when your table is ready!”  I guess I am to wander this crazy path day by day, doing only what I am asked for that day and waiting for further instruction.  There is a verse that says God is a light unto our path and a lamp unto our feet.  Oh, how I long for a flood light to the end of the road!  But I will be patient and be satisfied with that precious light that leads and guides and comforts along the way.  After all, I may not want to know where this all leads or what I will endure along the way.  I do trust, however, that the journey will be worth it and that I will be blessed to see him do great things if I continue to be obedient and believe.   “But those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.” Isaiah 40:31 NIV   “Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord!” Psalm 27:14 NIV   “The Lord is good to those who wait for him, to the soul who seeks him.” Lamentations 3:25 NIV   “Your word is a lamp for my feet, a light on my path.” Psalm 119:105

It was winter in South Dakota on a highway somewhere between Sioux Falls and Canton. It was cold and blustery. He had on shorts. The young man, walking along the side of the highway. He was miles from either Sioux Falls or Canton. He had on shorts! I do hear the playlist in my head, the one ingrained by society that says, “Don’t pick up hitch hikers!”  “Don’t trust strangers!” But my head, or perhaps it’s my heart, often quickly overrules the “rules” and does it anyway. So, I pulled to the side of the road and asked the young man where he was headed. Canton, was his response. Well! Just so happens that’s where I was headed. So, he climbed in and off we went.    As it turns out he had gotten into a fight with his girlfriend and she had kicked him out of the house, locking the door—with his phone, wallet, keys, coat…everything…inside the locked house. He had friends in Canton, so he had started walking. At least he had shoes! It was at least 20 miles from where he was to Canton. It would have been a long walk, in shorts. Probably some frostbite involved. I didn’t ask him if he knew Jesus—or tell him he would burn in hell if he didn’t. I just gave him a ride. I may have told him “God bless!” as he left the car. I usually do. Maybe they will see a little light in my kindness—to God be the glory!   ………………………………………………   She told me she had seen her neighbor passed out on the sidewalk in front of his house, right next door to her house, which was a nice home in a nice neighborhood. I remember asking her, “Did you go help him? See if he was okay?” “Oh, no!” was her quick response. She knew he struggled with alcohol, so she figured he was drunk. Besides, if he was drunk, he might have struck out at her or hurt her in his drunken stupor. And she didn’t want him to get in trouble if she called the authorities. So, she just left him lying there. She did look out every once in a while, she informed me, as though this was altruistic enough. Eventually, he was gone. I couldn’t fathom it . . . what if he had had a stroke or a heart attack? What if his blood alcohol content was so high he died of alcohol poisoning? What if . . .? How could she not have gone to see if he was okay?   ………………………………………………   I think of the story of the Good Samaritan. A priest and a Levite (the religious people of the day) passed by the man who had been robbed and beaten and left on the side of the road. It was a Samaritan (hated by Jews at the time) who took mercy on the man and cared for him. The Samaritan was the one who was praised by Jesus for being a good neighbor. When did we become so fearful for our physical bodies that we fail to help others? Isn’t fear from the evil one? Doesn’t the Bible teach us, not to fear that which can kill the body but not the soul, but rather the One who can destroy both body and soul in hell? What voice are we listening to . . .?   I don’t pick up every hitchhiker and I don’t go looking for them but, yes, if the Spirit moves me to help someone, I do. I trust that God will help me to discern when to step in and when not to. That he will keep me safe. And, honestly, I would rather die doing God’s will than “live” disobeying Him.    ““Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?” The expert in the law replied, “The one who had mercy on him.” Jesus told him, “Go and do likewise.”” Luke 10:36-37 NIV   “Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather, be afraid of the One who can destroy both soul and body in hell.” Matthew 10:28 NIV   “Those who live according to the flesh have their minds set on what the flesh desires; but those who live in accordance with the Spirit have their minds set on what the Spirit desires.” Romans 8:5 NIV

Reaching out to the youth incarcerated at the local juvenile detention center had been another eye-opening venture. The number in attendance varied widely from week to week and I was still learning how things operated and how best to reach these kids. It was easy to see they were troubled and perhaps their greatest question regarding God was the timeless question of, “If God is good, why is there so much suffering in the world?”    One young man stands out in my mind. Only two youth had decided to attend on this particular day. I was a little disappointed that more kids hadn’t chosen to attend, but God is wise and God is good. When there are a lot of kids, they tend to put their guard up. It is far less likely that any would show vulnerability or answer too honestly in a crowd. With only two, this young Native American was soft-spoken, but bared his soul. When I asked why he had chosen to come, his answer was, “I think I need a little Jesus.” To which I replied, “Don’t we all!”    He went on to share how both his mom and his grandma had been encouraging him to pray and to go to church. He seemed to have found himself in a place where he may as well give it a shot. He was quick to point out more than once, however, that he wasn’t too sure he believed there really was a God. When I asked him what made it hard for him to believe in God, his answer—maybe even more so, the look in his eyes and the hushed brokenness in his voice—broke my heart. He had never experienced any of the good, the blessings, that God seemed to promise in the Bible. On the streets, it had never paid to “be good.” Being good only got you in a place where you would be taken advantage of, beat up, abused. It didn’t get you food or clothes or a safe place to sleep. Lying and stealing, being “tough,” seemed to be the only thing that worked in his world.   I have been learning so much about the difference between “my” world and “their” world. The stories of the women in the jail, the kids in the behavioral health center . . . their homes and families were a far cry from the blessing I was born into. More and more I have been thinking of the children (who are now incarcerated youth or adults) who did not choose to be born into poverty, addiction, neglect, abuse. No more than I got to choose to be born into a home with Christian values, stability, warmth, food . . . love. Suddenly rather than my typical response of why there is suffering in the world: Genesis 3, The Fall, sin, and of personal accountability—making better choices, having a better work ethic—and pointing my finger at them, I found my finger pointing back at me . . . at the church. Where had we been, as Christians? If we are to be the light in this dark world . . . if we are to be the hands and feet of Christ . . . if we are to be  Christ to these people . . . where had we been ? As this young man was stealing food in order to have a meal, I may have been at a restaurant, a party, or a potluck at my church. As he was shivering in the cold without warm clothes or even a place to sleep, I may have been in my recliner in front of the fire, taking a hot bath, or crawling into my warm bed.    As this young man questioned if there really was a God because he had never experienced the rumored love or the promised blessings, I realized how I had failed him . . . how the church had failed him. If one  Christian had stepped into his life—not just to drop off a quilt, or a donation for the school he had dropped out of, but really  stepped into his life—with mentoring, with a meal at a family dinner table, with new shoes to wear as they played a game of scrimmage— together , with a phone call to see how he was doing . . .  If one Christian had left their white picket fence world to enter into his messy, hard world . . . he would have seen Christ. He would have known  there was a God. That would have been his evidence. And he may not have ended up sitting in the seat across from me . . .   It’s not considered respectful for a Native American to stare into the eyes of an elder, it would be considered aggressive or rude. So, when he did lift his downcast eyes to meet mine briefly, all I could answer with in that moment was, “There’s a verse in the Bible that says: ‘They will know we are Christians by our love.’ I’m afraid we haven’t done that very well.”   May we go out with as much love as we do evidence. May we be willing to enter into the messy and the hard. May we meet them where they are and shine the light we have been given, to give them hope.    “Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.” Galatians 6:9 NIV   “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” 1 John 13:35 NIV   “In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.”   Matthew 5:16 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

It was like a big garage or a warehouse. The walls, probably fifty feet tall, were made of cinder blocks. All painted white. About two thirds of the way up, there was a ledge about five feet wide that went all the way around the room. It was a huge space, completely empty . . .  with the exception of the ladder. It was like a regular, free-standing painting ladder—forming a tall  triangle, but it was much taller than any ladder I’d ever seen. I’m quite sure they don’t make ladders that style that tall, and for a reason. It made for a pretty precarious ascent.    A woman was climbing the ladder and there was a man on the ledge. He was trying to hold the ladder—to steady it—but it was just a little too far from the ledge. He stood on the ledge and watched her climb steadily upward. As she neared the top, the ladder began to sway . . . and that is when she fell. Probably thirty or forty feet down, landing on a concrete floor.   People, who came from seemingly nowhere, rushed to her still body lying on the ground, face up. As they pulled her towards them, a wet stain streaked behind her head on the concrete floor. It didn’t look good. But then, she was up! A little disoriented and feeling a little woozy, but she seemed okay. There was a little blood matted in her hair, but she seemed able to go about functioning as normal.   Amazed that she could have survived the fall so well, I stepped up to examine her head more closely. As I parted the bloody, matted hair, I could see there was an entire section of her skull completely missing. Her brain was completely exposed. The injury was so devastating that it seemed there was no way she could actually be alive, let alone functioning as seemingly normal.   And that was it. That was the whole dream. I pondered it that morning, but I couldn’t make much sense of it. I really had no idea what it could mean. I proceeded with my devotionals and my time with the Lord. I found myself journaling a bit—which I can tend to do when my head and my heart are trying to wrestle something out or to resolve something. I was journaling about my journey, and where God was leading. It had been this crazy, winding, path—never going where I would have expected, sometimes running into what seemed dead-ends—that appeared to have brought me right back to where I started: creation ministry . . . only much more prepared!    You see, with the closing of Chrysalis and in the absence of ongoing missionary support, I had applied for a position at Answers in Genesis (AiG). If I had to get a “real” job, I had thought perhaps I could at least use my science background, as well as my passion for sharing the gospel with evidence, by doing some researching and writing for this ministry that had really sort of started it all for me. And as I googled job openings at AIG, tucked in amongst cafeteria workers, greeters, zookeepers, and web designers, there it was . . . Science and Apologetics Writer/Editor. It couldn’t have been a more fitting job description! Since it would be mostly reading and writing, I was hoping they might consider allowing me to do the job remotely. In my mind, it could be perfect! The initial interviews had gone well, indeed, they seemed to perhaps be considering how they might use my skills and experiences beyond the position that I had applied for.    In my musings, I found myself wondering if, indeed, it may be time to go back to the “real world.” Just like I tell other women who struggle with addictions that there may be a day when they will be strong enough to go back for friends and family fighting the same battle . . . was it time for me to go back for “my people”? The churched . . . the people in the pews . . . the modern-day Pharisees . . . those wondering if there was something more to truly following  Jesus . . . all the Nicodemuses out there? Was my surrender sure enough? My roots deep enough? My faith great enough?      Just after finishing my musings, I checked my emails. Even as I had been journaling, I had received an email from AiG saying they would like to visit with me about a possible Speaker position! I had not dared to dream of such a thing, and yet here it was—an amazing opportunity with an international ministry that was working to restore the authority of scripture, uphold the truth of God’s word and rebuild the church! The platform could be a tremendous opportunity. God willing, the kingdom impact could be huge. I wasn’t quite sure what to think or how to feel! Honored . . . overwhelmed . . . excited . . . intimidated . . .     It was then that the vision of the ladder came back to my mind. That’s what it had meant. I was being presented with an opportunity that could take my tendency to want to rise up on my own pedestal to the next level. This was a tall  ladder. And a fall from such great heights could be a fatal blow. My pride could possibly creep in until I began working, once again, in my own strength. Reveling in my own accomplishments and achievements, leaving God behind. The man on the ledge, wanting to steady that precariously tall ladder . . . but just out of reach?  It was Jesus.  Longing to help . . . but kept just out of arm’s reach.   I realized, I had better stay close!  If I was given the opportunity to do such incredible kingdom work, I had better keep that ladder right next to the wall.  I better let Jesus hold on tightly to me, steadying me as I took on this mission, rather than trying to do it alone.  I better not just get others to dig in God’s Word—I had better do it myself.  I better not become so confident in my ability that I lose sight of my desperate need for Him.  I better not build monuments to myself—rather, give all the glory to God.  Scripture warns us that pride goes before a fall.  And, the crazy thing is, that we can go on functioning as “normal” in this world, even as we are “dead” in the spiritual realm.  Lord, don’t let me try to do this on my own!  This . . .   or anything else that comes my way.  Let me stay so close to you that I may never fall.  Thank you for your warnings . . .   in your Word — and, especially, in my life.  I stand in awe that you would send a personal reminder . . . just for me.  Who am I that you would think of me . . . ?!   “Pride goes before destruction, a haughty spirit before a fall.” Proverbs 16:18 NIV   “But when his heart became arrogant and hardened with pride, he was deposed from his royal throne and stripped of his glory.” Daniel 5:20 NIV   “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 NIV   “But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved.” Ephesians 2:4-5   “…but she who is self-indulgent is dead even while she lives.” 1 Timothy 5:6 ESV   “…what is mankind that you are mindful of them, human beings that you care for them?” Psalm 8:4 NIV

In a trying season, I was reminded of John Wesley’s perspective on persecution. There was a time when he bemoaned the fact that he had gone three whole days without anyone throwing a brick or a rotten egg at him! That should be a good thing, except that Jesus Himself reminds us that if we are living a godly life, we will face persecution. And so, in this season, I was trying to remember that persecution could be a good indication that I was somehow on the right track. Some days it was harder to remember than others.   On this day, as I prepared to present to a group of adolescents at a behavioral health center, I once again had some trepidation. My confidence was down. The stench from rotten eggs and the bruises from bricks and stones being thrown at me were still fresh. Reflecting on all the things that had happened in the past week or so, I had come to realize that when I was not immersed—in God’s word and in Christian fellowship—my presentations were far less engaging or compelling. The Spirit was not in my words like it was when I had been filling with the Spirit. My devotionals and other things had been emphasizing that we don’t convince people of truth, we point them to Christ. Truth isn’t facts  to be convinced of, but a person —Jesus Christ! I resolved to go in love , to bring hope , not arguments. To point them to Christ, not debate worldviews. My resolve was soon to be tested.   From Bricks to “Blown Away”     A young man who was flamboyantly gay with a sweeping mop of blue hair on his head was quick to interject “witty” comments as I presented on the flood. When I asked them what they thought of when they heard the word “catastrophe” there were a few reasonable attempts to respond and this young man said with all seriousness, “When I think of the word catastrophe, I think of . . . diarrhea!"  I good naturedly agreed that could indeed be catastrophic! However, when I asked them about uniformitarianism, I asked, “How does everyone look when they are wearing a uniform?” (Seeking the response, “The same.”) The young man responded, “ Hot! ” Knowing I needed to nip this in the bud, I quickly dismissed his response by answering on my own.   As the talk progressed, the group seemed particularly engaged. Even the heckler ceased his heckling, even nodding in agreement from time to time. I ended by telling them that I brought this kind of evidence so that they might come to see the Bible as something they could place their trust in, to find hope in. That they were, indeed, made in the image of God and that he had a purpose for each of their lives—even if they were in the midst of hard circumstances. There wasn’t a lot of time for questions or discussion at the end, but I thanked them for their attention and they began to file out.   The blue-haired heckler approached as I was putting away my computer, with the chaplain putting away the projector nearby. I braced myself, but was surprised by what he had come to say. “I just wanted to thank you. Thank you for coming—and for using real science to make your points. It seems like whenever I have gone to a group like this, or approached a Christian with questions that I struggle with, they always point me back to the Bible. But if you don’t believe the Bible, their defenses are pointless! I am not saying that what you said today is going to change my mind about God or the Bible . . . but you’ve got me thinking!”   I was overjoyed! I told him that was exactly why I had left research and was doing what I was doing. That I believed with all my heart that this was a message that so many needed to hear.    As he left, another young man came back into the room. He, too, admitted that the presentation had “blown him away”! He asked if there had been people on the ark and seemed incredulous that the stories of the Bible could actually represent fact and history and science. I was able to share a bit more and point him to some resources if he was interested in more evidence for the Christian faith.   One More Question   As he left, the first young man returned. He said he had one more question for me, and I was pretty sure I knew what it was going to be. He went on to say, “I . . . well, I am gay. A lot of people use their faith to justify persecution and hateful treatment of people who are gay. I was wondering what you thought about this?”   Mind racing . . . so many things . . . we had already been informed that this was a topic the chaplain and staff would handle and that we weren’t to address it . . . the chaplain was right there . . . but mostly, it was the look in his eyes . . . it was so genuine, so raw . . . it was as though somehow I had been deemed a “nice Christian” and he was truly interested to know what I thought about this . . .   In that moment, it was as though I knew with no uncertainty that I was representing Christ to this young “gay” “heckler.” My heart was absolutely heavy with the weight of that responsibility. He had to see my love for him—Christ’s love for him. Yet I must stand for truth . . .     From the fruits of the wrestling I had been through in just that past week—as I washed off the rotten eggs and nursed the tender bruises from the cast stones—the love of Christ rose up and overflowed from the very heart of me.    “First of all, the people that are persecuting and hating on gays are NOT representing Christ. Christ told us to love everyone,  regardless. Those people are sinful people who are not following the teachings of Christ. I have family members that are gay, I love people who are gay.”   “I told you, I come not to tell you what  to believe, but why to believe. I point people to God’s word so that he  can tell them what is right and what is wrong. It is not my opinion, but God’s. As far as my  interpretation of what God says about homosexuality, I believe that God’s will is that we enter into monogamous, heterosexual relationships. We all have things we struggle with, I have my own things that I want to do that God says are wrong. And I wrestle with that because it seems good to me and I want to do those things. But because I have come to trust God and his word—that he is wise, and kind, and loving and knows what is best for me—I do my best to follow his guidelines for my life. It’s not just homosexuality, my brother struggled for years with addiction. There are those who say that there is a genetic component to that as well. Yet, addiction was not a good place for him to remain—I didn’t want him to stay there. In fact, his story is a big part of why I am here today. When God got a hold of him, he was absolutely transformed ! He was completely freed from his addiction. And, I have heard the same for many who struggle with homosexuality! That God completely freed them from those desires!”    Germinating Seeds   He just looked deep into my eyes with the most serious expression. Some sadness . . . it wasn’t what he had hoped to hear. But no defensiveness or hostility. It was as though he was really processing all of this at a really deep level. I had to thank him for how he was handling himself in this whole discussion. “Thank you for this civil discourse. It’s not always that way, you know. Sometimes, we too are treated poorly for what we believe.” He nodded in agreement, “I’m sure that’s true.” I affirmed once again, “So thank you. You have made my day. I want you to know that I will be praying for you on your journey.” He smiled a sweet smile and left with a nod and a wave.   I am so grateful that God knew how much I needed that encouragement and affirmation, myself, on that day. He doesn’t have  to show me any germinating seeds from my obedience—but he does! Oh, how I hope to someday see that young man in heaven! That God will one day show me the full bloom of that obedience—what God can do through us when we say yes . . . even in the face of persecution.   “So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God  he created them; male and female he created them.” Genesis 1:27 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   “Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God.” 1 John 4:7 NIV   “…for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God…” Romans 3:23 NIV

I had begun to lead two adolescent spirituality groups each month at a local behavioral health center. One was a half-hour, mandatory session on Mondays. The other was an hour-long, voluntary session on Saturdays. Each of these offered a chance to provide evidence for the gospel—and the  hope  of the gospel—to confused and hurting young people. On a Saturday afternoon, a handful of youth wandered into the teaching room. One of them inquired as she entered, just what would we be doing in the group? I told her that it might be a little different than she expected . . . I was a scientist. She looked intrigued but still warned me that it had better be interesting—she was easily bored.   So Many Questions, So Much Confusion   Well, she wasn’t disappointed! It was an inquisitive group and a  lively  discussion. When they realized that I wasn’t just telling them  what  to believe but  why  they could believe the truths of Scripture, their interest was definitely piqued. One after the other, hands shot up to see what I thought about cavemen and dinosaurs. How could we explain the evidence of intelligence in ancient civilizations if we were still in the process of evolving from apes? How could people live to be over 900 years old?! There was such an obvious hunger for answers to these questions that had been lurking on the fringe of their faith—or keeping them from faith. Questions they hadn’t always felt safe to ask in church—and when they had asked, no one seemed to have the answers. Again, I was amazed by the number of questions these kids have, the  types  of questions they have, the false beliefs and misunderstandings that are rampant in our culture—especially among youth who are so heavily influenced by the internet, social media, and Hollywood. Their answer to ancient intelligence was aliens! I could assure them that we were created in the image of God, brilliant from the beginning and not evolving from apelike creatures. From a biblical perspective, we should not be surprised by the evidence of impressive scientific and cultural advancement. After all, within six generations of Adam, the Bible speaks of the establishment of agriculture, music, and metalworking (Genesis 4:20–22). We find the mighty warrior, David, and the prophet, Isaiah, hiding in caves—but that didn’t make them unintelligent! We don’t find “cavemen,” we find men living in caves.   These youth had been deceived by the mockumentary on mermaids. I could talk about the creation of kinds and how God had made them to reproduce after their own kind—not evolve into something else that was half fish, half human. And I could share the genetics behind that! I could point out the shortcomings of supposed “ape-men” fossils, often touted as “missing links.” Indeed, Darwin himself acknowledged the absence of “innumerable transitional forms” in the fossil record for what would have had to have been millions of years of evolutionary change in all life-forms. Rather, things just show up fully formed and functional—just as we would expect, according to God’s Word.   A Safe Place to Seek   I think they appreciated having a chance to voice their questions and be heard as much as they appreciated the answers I attempted to provide to their rapid-fire questioning. There was jesting amongst them and laughing. For a moment, there was joy and a hint of hope in their dark and troubled worlds—a chance to explore their beliefs and to sense hope that this whole loving God thing might actually be true! There was evidence, after all. I thanked God for that in our closing prayer and left encouraged that these kids had indeed felt his presence with them during our time together.   On Monday, the “easily bored” girl was still there, and as she came into the mandatory session, she seemed excited to have me there again. She pronounced publicly to the group of more than twenty that this would be an interesting session! Indeed, a month or so later, the same girl had returned to the behavioral health center, and again on seeing me, she voiced how glad she was to have “the science lady” back.   Part of her comment included that I let them ask questions instead of “just talking to us.” This series of encounters has really affirmed the need for us as believers and evangelists not only to provide evidence but to create a safe place for people to voice their current beliefs without judgment or condemnation and to create a loving environment where the gospel can be explored and hopefully received by skeptics and unbelievers!   “But there were also false prophets among the people, just as there will be false teachers among you. They will secretly introduce destructive heresies, even denying the sovereign Lord who bought them—bringing swift destruction on themselves.” 2 Peter 2:1 NIV   “For the time will come when people will not put up with sound doctrine. Instead, to suit their own desires, they will gather around them a great number of teachers to say what their itching ears want to hear. They will turn their ears away from the truth and turn aside to myths.” 2 Timothy 4:3–4 NIV   “My dear brothers and sisters, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, because human anger does not produce the righteousness that God desires.” James 1:19–20 NIV   “Don’t have anything to do with foolish and stupid arguments, because you know they produce quarrels. And the Lord’s servant must not be quarrelsome but must be kind to everyone, able to teach, not resentful. Opponents must be gently instructed, in the hope that God will grant them repentance leading them to a knowledge of the truth.” 2 Timothy 2:23–25 NIV

It was a quiet group of adolescents—maybe about 15 of them, ranging in age from 13 to 18 or so. Some weeks the questions from these struggling youth at a behavioral health center came so fast and furious I wasn’t sure how to address their many and varied questions—knowing each one was critical to their journey of faith, each one was coming from a desperate heart, crying for help. At times, their questions were genuine and their interest sincere. Other times, comments would be filled with sarcasm and their frustrations would flare out in combative rebellion as they questioned the truth I attempted to share with them. But at least they were asking the questions! This day, however, they were unusually quiet.   A young man, perhaps 17 years old, sat in the front row, arms folded across his chest—the universal body language for inaccessibility to his thoughts . . . or his heart. He listened respectfully enough. And in a moment of silence that went on long enough to embolden him to speak, he asked the simple question, “So you actually believe everything you read in that book?”—pointing to my Bible lying on the table beside me. I answered with deep sincerity, “Yes, I do. Every word, with all my heart.”   A roll of the eyes gave away some of the thoughts that his folded arms had attempted to withhold from me. I proceeded with the group, sharing more evidence for the truth of Scripture with them and addressing the infrequent question. It was nearing the end and another moment of silence loomed large in the room. Again, given space in that silence, a question from the young man in the front row: “So, if you believe everything in the Bible, (a pregnant pause in which my mind raced to consider all the controversial points in the Bible he might bring to test me) . . . if Jesus were to come to you and ask you to give up everything to follow him . . . what would you do?” It was the question posed to the rich young ruler—this kid had spent at least some time in church and had clearly been left disillusioned.   I thought for a moment to formulate my response. I hadn’t mentioned yet the fact that I had been a research scientist for 20 years. That I had left a position that not only allowed us to live comfortably but also fed my pride and ego. I think some people think that the story of the rich young ruler teaches that we have to give away everything in order to make it to heaven. I believe it to mean that we must give up anything that keeps us from truly following Jesus, and in my case, it was more the pride and ego than the money! I answered his question with a voice filled with emotion, “I kind of did give up everything. I gave up a 20-year career in medical research, a position of power and prestige, a good salary . . . to follow God’s call on my life. I gave up my career to travel around, sharing the truth of God’s Word with people who need hope—to come here to share with you.” My response was met with silence. His challenging eyes lowered as he pondered my words.   The session ended, and kids began noisily filing out—suddenly they were not so quiet. I started to gather my things when I noticed the young man was standing in front of me. “Thanks for coming today.” It seemed sincere! “If it were appropriate, I would probably give you a hug!” I was floored! It didn’t take long to mutually agree that a fist bump might be best. I was never as glad that I had chosen to say yes to God’s request to follow him as I was in that moment! It was testament to the fact that God will use our “yes” even in a quiet, seemingly disengaged group of troubled youth. I pray to this day that the work of the Holy Spirit continues to shape that young man’s heart. The promise of the legacy that could be changed because of the seeds planted that day is what encourages me to continue to “fight the good fight.” To God be the glory!   “He said to them, ‘Why are you troubled, and why do doubts rise in your minds?’” Luke 24:38 NIV   “Be merciful to those who doubt; save others by snatching them from the fire; to others show mercy, mixed with fear— hating even the clothing stained by corrupted flesh.” Jude 1:22-23 NIV   “Jesus looked at him and loved him. ‘One thing you lack,’ he said. ‘Go, sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.’” Mark 10:21 NIV   “Fight the good fight of the faith. Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called when you made your good confession in the presence of many witnesses.” 1 Timothy 6:12 NIV

There have been many times along this journey where I have found myself wondering how we would make ends meet. Both my husband and I have grown better at trusting God to provide, but my ministry “bucket” had been running dry and I couldn’t see where the funds would be coming from any time soon. I happened to be talking to another evangelist, and he mentioned that he had been making some good money donating plasma. While I realized this was a possibility, I had never seriously considered it . . .     I found myself rationalizing that the two 90-minute sessions each week could be my meditation time— and  I would be helping to save lives. Certainly, this could be a great way to get some additional, steady income. Something I could count on. (Something I had control over!) I made an appointment for the very next morning. After going through all the paperwork, video training, health screening, etc., they took me to the phlebotomists—only to find out I couldn’t give! My veins weren’t big enough or strong enough! Hmmm . . . dead end.    The very next day, I had a meeting with the founder of the ministry, and he told me he had seen that there had been a $1,000 donation given to my ministry . . . by someone I had never heard of . . . who lived in Florida! It was as though God wanted to show me that he did indeed have this! He would provide my needs, if even through someone I may have never met and I had no idea how my ministry might have impacted them!   When I received my monthly financial statements, I was reminded of that odd, unexpected, well-timed gift. The very next morning, I woke up after having a vision of a gallon of milk crashing to the floor with milk exploding everywhere. I didn’t understand this one right away. I remember thinking, “Why in the world would I dream about a gallon of milk exploding?!” It wasn’t until later that I realized what it meant. You know how when you drop a container with liquid, it goes flying everywhere? As you clean it up, you realize how many places it reached. Even after you think you got it all, weeks later you find more spots, in even more unexpected places!    I think evangelism is like that. You don’t even realize the impact and the far-reaching implications of speaking God’s truth and sharing the gospel. Maybe that man had a daughter in the county jail where I led Bible studies? Or a granddaughter at a local church I had spoken at? Who knows the far-reaching impact of our obedience and how much time might transpire before we realize how far it truly went . . . and what about the spots we never find? And isn’t it interesting that, in order for that milk to splash with such far-reaching implications, it has to hit rock bottom? Seems true for the most powerful evangelists I know.    “And my God will meet all your needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:19 NIV   “But thanks be to God, who in Christ always leads us in triumphal procession, and through us spreads the fragrance of the knowledge of him everywhere.” 2 Corinthians 2:14 NIV   “And this gospel of the kingdom will be preached in the whole world as a testimony to all nations, and then the end will come.” Matthew 24:14 NIV

Fear, anxiety, worry. I find a culture filled with these things—and not just the world, but the church and most Christians as well—certainly even me at times. Worried about things outside our control. Afraid of things that have not yet happened, and most likely will not happen. And yet, we worry. The Bible teaches that God is a sovereign God. That he is mighty and wise and holds all things in his hand (1 Chronicles 29:12). He has a plan for each of us (Jeremiah 29:11). It teaches that perfect love casts out all fear (1 John 4:18). Over and over God reassures us, “Fear not”—more than 80 times in scripture!    The Bible reminds us we don’t need to worry about what the future holds (Matthew 6:34). He offers the peace that passes understanding (Philippians 4:7). Joy in the most difficult of circumstances (Psalm 5:11). He will go before us (Deuteronomy 31:8). He will uphold us in his righteous right hand (Isaiah 41:10). He will provide (Philippians 4:19; Matthew 6:25-34). He will protect (Psalm 121:7). Even though we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, we need fear no evil, for God is with us (Psalm 23:4).    And yet, we worry. Indeed, at times we seem almost to relish the fear and the worry. Dwell on it. Allow our imaginations to go down every dark and troublesome alley at the first hint of trouble. And when God’s promises are held forth, they are often rejected . . . dismissed. It’s as though we feel the bringer of good news fails to see the solemnity of the issue, fails to have compassion for the victim, fails to show reason. Of course, we should fear, our logic says! This world is a dark and terrible place! And, indeed, it is—without the light. But with the light—with Christ —we can be fearless!    In thinking on this recently, I found it quite ironic. As we fear a robbery that has not yet happened—and most likely will not happen—we fail to see that a robbery has already taken place. The evil one comes to steal, kill and destroy (John 10:10). As we worry about our belongings and fear for our lives, the devil has run off with our peace, our joy, our trust . . . our very faith in the sovereign God who offered us all these gifts in the first place. Will we accept the gifts of the Holy Spirit? Will we live in the confidence he gives us? He did not give us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind (2 Timothy 1:7). Let us step out in confidence. Boldly speaking the truth in love (Ephesians 4:15). Sharing the peace we have found in him. Reminding each other when we forget . . . “Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.” Psalm 23:4 NIV   “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” John 10:10 NIV   “For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love and self-discipline.” 2 Timothy 1:7 NIV