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She calls them “shame bumps.”  Those things that keep us from drawing near to others—or to God.  It’s as old as time, really . . . shame bumps.  From the very first sin in the Garden of Eden, we see Adam and Eve hide in the bushes when they hear God walking in the garden.  What they had done—their act of rebellion—sent them running from the presence of God.   My friend went on to explain that she refused to call them anything more than bumps, because we can get over them.  Shame is not some insurmountable obstacle that irrevocably keeps us from God’s presence.  However, the evil one would love for us to believe otherwise.  How often does shame keep people from those they love—from getting together, answering their calls, or returning their texts?  People who they may have hurt in their act of rebellion . . .   How many times has shame kept people from going to church?  Left them feeling too unworthy to be in the house of God . . .   How many lies has shame had people believing about themselves?  A web of deceit that keeps them from seeing themselves through the eyes of God . . .   Even as my friend was sharing her theory on shame bumps, I had other friends who had failed to respond to my calls or texts—ashamed of a recent relapse.  I had friends who weren’t coming to church—ashamed of lifestyle choices.  I began to consider the concept of “shame bumps.”  It occurred to me that we, as friends and fellow believers, are put in a very powerful position.  We have the power to add to the shame, making the bump even higher and harder to get over . . . or the power to carve a little off the top.  Judgment, condemnation, self-righteousness: fruits of the flesh that are sure to add to their shame, making it next to impossible to overcome.  Grace, forgiveness, unconditional love: gifts from God that can lower the shame, making it just a little easier to get over.    Sometimes I feel that my very presence—as the “church lady” or “Christian mentor”—can add to that shame.  Sometimes, I feel that they run from me like Adam and Eve ran from God.  I just wish they knew, I’m not God . . . I’m just another sinner with my own shame bumps.  Maybe I could use still more humility and vulnerability if I am ever going to be good at carving off the tops of shame bumps.  Maybe that’s one of the mountains I have yet to scale.  Maybe others will extend some grace that might shave a little off the top . . .   “Then the man and his wife heard the sound of the Lord God as he was walking in the garden in the cool of the day, and they hid from the Lord God among the trees of the garden.” Genesis 3:8 NIV   “Repent, then, and turn to God, so that your sins may be wiped out, that times of refreshing may come from the Lord,” Acts 3:19 NIV   “For I will forgive their wickedness and will remember their sins no more.” Hebrews 8:12 NIV   “…for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God…” Romans 3:23 NIV

She didn’t make much eye contact and her hands fidgeted with the Bible on her lap as she sat in the front passenger seat. I had just picked her up from a counseling session with a biblical counselor. She made small conversation and still had her sweet smile, but I could tell that there was lot going on in her mind. In a lapse in the conversation, she said, “I didn’t really think I needed that, but I guess I did.” Not making the leap with her, I had to ask, “Needed what?” “Counseling . . . someone to talk through all these things with,” she replied. “Not that I can’t talk with you . . .,” she quickly added. But I was just as quick to reassure her that it was okay to want to dig deep with someone else—someone who would know better than I how to sort it all out. I shared how I thought it was so important to get all that stuff that we keep way down deep inside and bring it up into the light, sift through it, take inventory of it. Sometimes, it loses power when it is brought out in the open rather than left in the dark. I remembered a sermon my pastor gave once. It was about a trunk in the basement with damp things that were molding and rotting. Left there, the mold would only spread to other things and the damage would become even greater than it was, destroying the very trunk that held the moldy items. But, brought up out of the basement and spread out across the yard, things would dry out. The mold could no longer grow or spread. The damage was minimized. So it is with our “junk.” Left in the dark, it has the power to destroy us. Brought to the light, we can find resolution, reconciliation . . . redemption. It was a sermon that has really stuck with me, and I think of it often as some of these women share with me some of the things that have been molding and rotting in their core. These things that lie at the root of so many of the surface issues in their lives. And apparently that’s what the counselor had said . . . they would get to the root of her issues. And I could tell from her expression, that was a daunting prospect, indeed. After another pause, she said, “It’s like I have made these boxes to keep those things in.” Using her hands to indicate these small, tight boxes. “Not only boxes, but walls around the boxes.” Again, the hands, indicating the walls around her imaginary boxes. I silently wondered what dark secrets she needed to work so hard to keep secret, from others . . . perhaps even from herself. Another thoughtful pause and she began to share more of what was on her mind. “I need to create a safe place to live while we deconstruct those boxes.” Wow! “Because I want my new place to be strong and secure. I want a solid foundation, no drafts.” The depth and insight of these words were slowly sinking in as I listened, marveling at her wisdom, at her courage. You see, this woman had been struggling with sin she didn’t even know was sin . . . before she came to know God. But now that she knew him—knew how he would have her live her life—the awareness of this sin and the battle to defeat it was rocking her world! But she was standing at this crossroads wanting to build a new life, on solid rock. On Christ! She wanted to build her life on the truths of scripture, she didn’t want the drafty winds of the culture to sway her from this newfound source of joy, and peace, and hope. If only more Christians were so determined. Later, as I was processing this conversation, I was thinking of her “safe place.” Her descriptive gestures had indicated it was a temporary place—a place between. Between the sealed boxes and her new home, which wasn’t quite yet finished. Between who she had been and who she was to become. I thought once again of the concept of the chrysalis. The cocoon that shelters the caterpillar as it makes its transformation to a butterfly. This temporary place between the world amongst the milkweed fronds and the world of fragrant blooms, dripping with rich nectar. In my rush to respond to what I thought God wanted to do with my latest breadcrumb, I had rushed ahead, past the closed doors on the million-dollar properties, to renting houses where these women could be transformed. I was beginning to realize that perhaps this temporary shelter was more likely to be found in relationships, in community. That, more than just a house, I was perhaps a part of this “safe place”—me, fellow believers, healthy relationships, Christian community . . . infused with unconditional love. I was becoming more and more convinced that this, indeed, was the true chrysalis, where shelter would be offered as she deconstructed her old life and got her wings. What an honor . . . what a responsibility. Lord, give me strength. Give me wisdom and courage to match hers as she builds her new home . . . with you. “There is nothing concealed that will not be disclosed, or hidden that will not be made known.” Luke 12:2 NIV “He said to them, “Do you bring in a lamp to put it under a bowl or a bed? Instead, don’t you put it on its stand? For whatever is hidden is meant to be disclosed, and whatever is concealed is meant to be brought out into the open.”” Mark 4:21-22 NIV “And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching.” Hebrews 10:24-25 NIV

I was raised Lutheran. It makes me kind of sad to even say that. It feels like I should say that I was raised Christian—and I was—but I had always gone to a Lutheran church. Once my husband and I were married, we also chose to go to a Lutheran church. So, the doctrines were familiar, the teachings similar, even from church to church. We did Bible study with people who had also been raised Lutheran. We sat in circles, mostly agreeing, seldom really questioning—more often firming up the shores of our long-held traditions and beliefs, lest anyone think of becoming Baptist or something! So, when I quit my job to follow Jesus, one of the first things he did was lead me to a Baptist church. When I couldn’t make it to the ladies’ study at my little country—very Lutheran—church, I found myself attending a Bible study at a Baptist church that was very inter-denominational. There were Baptists, Reformers, and Lutherans, among others. We still sat in circles, but we didn’t always agree. I found myself questioning. They brought up passages we never really addressed, and they interpreted things in ways that I had never heard. I was being stretched. The best thing was that all this questioning drove me straight to the source I should have been searching diligently from the start—the Bible! Imagine that . . . a Bible study that actually got me studying the Bible! And study it, I did. I began to be so hungry for what God’s word actually said. Not just what I had been told, or what Lutherans have deemed right—but what did it really say. Our little debates weren’t always comfortable, but we were growing in our knowledge and in our faith. We dubbed ourselves Scripture Sisters—we even had t-shirts made! I have come to realize that is true in so many areas of life, really. I hung out with family and friends who were raised much like I was, saw the world much like I did. We sat in circles, too, around tables, in lawn chairs, floating in pods at the lake, mostly agreeing, seldom really questioning—repairing the slats on the picket fence that kept us in . . . and others out. So, now, as God has me stepping way out of the bounds of my picket fence, I find myself being stretched once again. Things I thought I knew were right or true are in the line of fire. Long-held beliefs, “wisdom” that I was certain of, are now being challenged by new information, new perspectives . . . new people. From parenting, to working, to leisure—my worldview was taking some hits. For someone who needs to be “right”—who always thinks she is “right”! —this was stretching me, to be sure. Conversations are often not as comfortable. I find myself once again being challenged. Do I stand firm on my position or consider assuming the position someone else is taking? Is there some truth in each position? What is “right”?! The answer is no different than it was before. The answer comes from God’s word. Biblical doctrine seeps inevitably into every opinion, every value, every stance we take—on anything . . . or at least it should. From parenting, to working, to leisure. If I want to be “right,” I better stay hungry for the Word. Because I don’t want to just win the debate . . . I want to be right . And if I am taking the light into this dark world, I surely want to bring truth. Not some worldly-influenced, indoctrinated “truth.” The Truth. “One of you says, “I follow Paul”; another, “I follow Apollos”; another, “I follow Cepha”; still another, “I follow Christ.” Is Christ divided? Was Paul crucified for you? Were you baptized in the name of Paul?” 1 Corinthians 1:12-13 NIV “All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the servant of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work.” 2 Timothy 3:16-17 NIV “Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” John 14:6 NIV

I have a friend who would always say, “Knowledge isn’t wisdom until you’ve walked it out.” I may not be quoting her quite right, but it’s something like that. In the season of Chrysalis, we started each morning with Bible study and one day, as we were gathered around the table, we got to talking about that. Her stance was that you would only have head knowledge until you had actually experienced it. That you couldn’t come to full understanding without having walked it out. I tended to disagree (surprise, surprise!) and was making the argument that you could understand and have wisdom on something just from reading it or talking to others about it. That you could be wise even if you hadn’t necessarily experienced it. Our conversation wasn’t too contentious, but I don’t think either one of us was going to be swayed. We sort of, nonverbally, agreed to disagree and the conversation moved on. After our times of Bible study, we were trying to establish a social enterprise venture that would provide the women with gainful employment while remaining in a safe and nurturing environment . . . thus, the chrysalis concept. I had seen a video of this acrylic pour technique that looked quite easy and made the most amazing butterfly painting. Other than actually mixing the paints, the video showed virtually the entire process—the video was 8 minutes and 12 seconds long. Using squeeze bottles, like those you use for ketchup and mustard, you drew the basic outline of a butterfly in black. Then, using orange and yellow and blue, you made alternating lines of color within the butterfly outline. A piece of cellophane was placed over the entire canvas, it was flipped over and gently pulled off and . . . voila! . . . a beautiful butterfly. Surely, we could be producing profitable works of art in no time. So, we gathered the supplies, mixed the paints, prepared the canvases, and set about producing our first butterflies. Well, as it turns out, it was not quite as easy as the video made it look. Our work consisted of the quality of preschool to, maybe, third grade artwork! The more attention that was paid to the details of the process and the more times the video was watched directly correlated to the quality of the work. But none of us came close to achieving what the artist in the video was able to create. With a few self-deprecating comments, some light-hearted mocking, and gentle encouragement being murmured around the table amidst a good share of laughing, we set out to try again. Based on what had worked and not worked, we each made another attempt incorporating what we had learned. Without exception, each of our butterflies turned out better the second time. Yet, still nowhere near as good as the amazing butterfly in the eight-minute video. With repeated efforts, we continued to improve and even as I was gently pulling the painting from the cellophane—this time being sure to draw it up uniformly—it dawned on me. Knowledge isn’t wisdom until you’ve walked it out! I had watched the video so many times and paid close attention to every detail in the video, or so I thought. And yet, without actually going through the process I was far from accomplished in the technique. I had been so confident that we could just watch this video clip and be able to do what the artist in the video had done. I couldn’t help but feel a slight admonishment from the Lord. He was convicting me, not about YouTube art but about biblical wisdom . . . life. The proximity of our conversation to this teachable moment was not lost on me. I admitted to my friend, she was probably right. Farther down the road on this crazy journey, I think of her and of that day often. There are so many things I had studied and read . . . things I was sure I knew . . . things I felt I was wise about, and yet . . . it was merely knowledge. I had lots of doctrines and theology in my head, verses memorized, “wisdom” to impart. And then I started walking. It was preschool to third-grade level, at best. My spiritual maturity was far from where I believed it to be. I had so much walking out to do. There is a reason God has told us to “go therefore, and make disciples of all nations.” You see, that’s the walking out part. We are supposed to go to church, study scripture, spend time in prayer, for sure. But then, we are to “go therefore.” Because it isn’t enough to know it, we’ve got to walk it out. I used to think that verse was for the benefit of the people we would take the message to. God was teaching me, it was just as much about moving knowledge . . . to wisdom. “Join together in following my example, brothers and sisters, and just as you have us as a model, keep your eyes on those who live as we do.” Philippians 3:17 NIV “Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you.” Philippians 4:9 NIV “But solid food is for the mature, who by constant use have trained themselves to distinguish good from evil.” Hebrews 5:14 NIV

I remember the first time I met her, and I won’t forget it soon. It was in the women’s county jail—the key word being women’s . However, she was clearly masculine—or attempting to appear masculine. Her hair was longish, but shaved on the sides so that when it was drawn up it looked like a man’s. Her frame was slight, but her gait and mannerisms were clearly masculine. It was her first time attending my study, I would find out later it was her first time attending any Bible study. She was friendly and helpful, stepping right up to help grab chairs off the stack to set around the table where we would gather. As I took the chairs from her, I heard myself saying, “Thank you, sir!” As quickly as I said it, I realized my mistake—it was, after all, the women’s jail! So, I quickly corrected myself, saying, “I mean ma’am!” “That’s okay,” was her casual reply. “I get that all the time.” We proceeded with our study and I was sharing with evidence as I often did. She was so intrigued and listened with rapt attention—soaking up the conversation, asking lots of questions. She would share later that she had never heard anyone talk about the Bible this way—using scientific evidence to validate the people, places, and events of the Bible. I was so excited that she was excited. Perhaps she would come to believe in this amazing God we love and serve! I was sure she would come again and I was eager to teach her more. But then, it happened. She threw it right out there, with no warning and very little left of our time together. “So, you probably guessed it, but I am homosexual. What does the Bible say about that?” Oh, man, the bombshell was laying out there and the room went silent. Everybody was waiting to hear what I would say. Truth in love. Truth in love. The phrase kept running through my mind. You see, I did love her! But I knew she wouldn’t want to hear the truth. Seriously, God? I thought to myself. The first day? Couldn’t we have had time to build a relationship? Lay some more groundwork? But there it was, out on the table. So, I answered as I had come to answer that most delicate of questions. I told her, “You know, I don’t come to share my opinion, but rather I want you to know that God is real and that this book is truth—his word to us. I want you to come to know God and to read his word, then he will speak to you about his thoughts on homosexuality. As for how I interpret what scripture says, I believe God designed us—one man, for one woman, for life.” There. I had said it. Pretty sure she wouldn’t be back the next week. But then, you never do know . . . She did come back. Each week during that stay at the county jail . . . and the next . . . and the next. She kept coming and, it was interesting, because while I never really brought the topic up again, she would from time to time. And it was clear that God was working on her. She said so herself. As it would turn out, God did give us time to build a relationship, to lay some groundwork. She began attending my Bible studies on the “outside,” as they would say. We developed a great friendship and ended up spending quite a bit of time together. I remember there were four of us at the table, where we sipped coffee and dug into God’s word. And she started seeking relational advice about her ex-wife and her most recent girlfriend. It was a little uncomfortable for the group and one wandered to the kitchen and the other to the front porch for a smoke break. And while the shock factor of this had worn off considerably for me, it was still a topic that was uncomfortable. But at least now, I was realizing, it wasn’t as much because it was homosexuality . . . but because it was sin. And we are all sinners and struggle with our own things. While I clearly remembered the dramatic story of Sodom and Gomorrah from my childhood years in Sunday school, and how the sort of whispered acts of sodomy had become more vivid as I came to realize just what this act was, I don’t remember the teaching of Ezekiel 16:49. Yet, somehow on this journey, God highlighted this particular passage for me. Not just as words my ears heard and my head stored . . . but words my heart heard . And I stood convicted. The true sin of Sodom and Gomorrah was not just the sexual sin that was rampant in the cities—but that the people were “arrogant, overfed and unconcerned; they did not help the poor and needy.” Harsh words . . . that describe so many in our churches today. Harsh words that described me, before God really got ahold of me. So, yes, while homosexuality may be wrong in God’s eyes, we are not one to cast stones. We should pull the plank out of our own eyes before we point out the speck of dust in theirs. And so, sitting at that table with her, I would not judge her, but neither would I be party to the sin. Instead, I gently said, “First of all . . . you know I love you. But you also know how I feel about this. I am not comfortable giving relational advice on something that I see as wrong in the eyes of God. And it is not just on the homosexuality, but that I see marriage as a life-long covenant—a commitment to one partner. And that sex before marriage is a sin. So, you see, putting the gender issues aside, there are so many other behaviors that I just don’t see as right. So, I just don’t feel comfortable weighing in at all on this issue. We can look at what scripture has to say about it, but I won’t give my opinion on what you should do.” I was surprised by her response. Rather than taking offense, she embraced my unintentional offer. “Really? I think we should. Could we look at what scripture says on this? Together? I have been reading about it, but I would really like to dig into it with you.” And then, she said something that I have thought back on so many times since. “You were the first one to come to me without an agenda . . . just Jesus. Everyone else has an opinion on how I should look, how I should dress, how I should live my life. You just brought me Jesus.” I almost cried. Had he brought me this far? This “recovering Pharisee,” full of self-righteousness and judgment. Had he finally brought me to a place where the first thing I wanted to give people was Jesus . . . rather than my opinion?! Perhaps it was true! And my heart rejoiced! We would have many more conversations to follow, hard conversations. Truth in love. Truth in love. The jury is still out on whether she will ever be free from her struggle, or if she will choose to refrain from a homosexual lifestyle. I am trusting that, with Jesus in her life, she will be set free. But one thing I have learned, for certain, is that it is far better when I don’t come with an agenda . . . just Jesus. “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 4:15 NIV “Do not judge, or you too will be judged.” Matthew 7:1 NIV “You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye.” Matthew 7:4 NIV “Marriage should be honored by all, and the marriage bed kept pure, for God will judge the adulterer and all the sexually immoral.” Hebrews 13:4 NIV “I tell you that anyone who divorces his wife, except for sexual immorality, and marries another woman commits adultery.” Matthew 19:9 NIV

The call came at something like 11:30pm. She was upset and sounded a little desperate. My sleepy brain was trying to process all she was telling me . . .   A week or so earlier, she had moved from one of the local homeless shelters to live with a friend who had just recently gotten an apartment. The friend had offered for both her and her husband, who had been staying in the men’s housing at the same shelter, to come and stay with her and her girls. I had advised against it. I liked her friend, but I was so worried about what all might happen at that apartment. My friend and her husband were doing so well at the shelter . . . they were working towards getting their kids back out of foster care . . . things were looking good . . . this didn’t seem good . . . my mama bear was rising up, and I wished I could just put them in a bubble! She went anyway.   So now, at this late hour, I was receiving the call I had feared. People were there, people were using drugs, accusations were being tossed back and forth. The truth was as hard to see as the breeze that makes the waves toss to and fro. It was not on my agenda and certainly not convenient, but I felt I must go—and my husband agreed. This couple had been doing so well, working so hard for sobriety and for their little family. This could be the end of all of it. And so, off into the night I went, to pick them up and bring them to our house for the night. They would go back to the shelter in the morning.   It wasn’t until several days later that I got downstairs to wash the bedding and tidy up the room where they had stayed. It was not until then that I saw the red stain. On the carpet next to the guest bed, one of them must have spilled a Gatorade or something. It was right there for all to see, dried now, probably next to impossible to remove. I found my frustration just welling up inside me! Why were they drinking Gatorade in the middle of the night?! How did it get spilled?! Why didn’t they try to clean it up—or at least tell me?!?! Of course, it was impossible to remove at this point. The red stain is still there, for all to see. A reminder, of sorts, every time I see it. But a reminder of what . . .?   “Inconvenient” Hospitality   I found myself really thinking about that red stain. Indeed, my house bore several marks that were reminders of “inconvenient” hospitality. There were missing knick-knacks, broken during the temper tantrums of a hurting child venting frustration and buried pain, that had to be thrown away. The carvings on the dining room table. And the hole in the closet door of the guest room, where the door handle had punched through when it was slammed open in a fit of rage.   I found it interesting, that these material things were almost the hardest for me to deal with. It wasn’t the late hour calls, the tantrums themselves, the scathing words that were spoken in the fits of rage. It wasn’t even the boisterous, sometimes obnoxious, behavior of the children we brought into our home while their families worked to get things in order. It wasn’t the incessant chatter and a volume level that was decibels louder than usual for my normally quiet, empty-nester house. It was when my “stuff” got messy, or stained, or broken. Why did it frustrate me so much? Was my tidy house and my carpet and my “stuff” really more important than a couple’s sobriety and their family’s reunion? Or the safety and well-being of children from hard places? I don’t know exactly why that is the worst of it for me, but I have come to realize that if that is the worst of it . . . is it much of a sacrifice after all?   The Ultimate “Inconvenience”   As I said, I have found myself really thinking about that red stain. The irony of it isn’t lost on me . . . a red stain. I am reminded of the “inconvenient” sacrifice that Christ made, shedding his blood—for  my  sins! My “inconvenience” suddenly pales in comparison. Whenever I go into the guest room and see the unsightly stain, I am reminded that it is another red stain, Christ’s spilt blood, that has washed me clean! And now, because of it, the same power that raised Christ from the dead lives  in me . It is that very same Spirit that has prompted us to open our home to “inconvenient” hospitality. Surely, I can offer the same grace and forgiveness—for a broken knick-knack or a spilled Gatorade! Indeed, may I grow in my love for others that I would not even notice or care about such trivial things. But rather, that I would see the broken hearts and the broken lives in need of Christ’s redeeming love. May I spend more time mending hearts, even if it means scrubbing a few carpets.   “And do not forget to do good and to share with others, for with such sacrifices God is pleased.” Hebrews 13:6 NIV   “Offer hospitality to one another without grumbling.” 1 Peter 4:9 NIV   “But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, his Son, purifies us from all sin.” 1 John 1:7 NIV

The phone call woke me from a sound sleep. I was a bit disoriented and I had no idea what time it was. A call in the night is never good, so my heart was racing a bit. The caller ID and the voice didn’t match and it took just another moment for my brain to figure out it was my friend’s husband, calling from her phone. This couple happens to be homeless and they were currently living, separately, at the Mission downtown—she in the women’s unit, he in the men’s. Why would he be calling? From her phone? He started to speak and then interrupted himself, “I guess I should start with good morning.” Good morning? What time was it?! “Do you happen to be in Sioux Falls?” he continued. Sharper than I intended, I responded, “What time is it?” “Six o’clock,” was his response. Half laughing, half irritated, I shot back, “It’s six o’clock on a Saturday morning . . . No, I am not in Sioux Falls. I am sleeping!” What he said next cleared some of the sleepy haze from my mind. He went on to say that my friend had been in the emergency room, and she had been diagnosed with strep and pneumonia. They had been discharged from the ER around three in the morning, and they had slept in a drainage ditch behind the Sanford Hospital bus. As so many times before, their predicaments seemed almost unbelievable, beyond my comprehension. A remnant of the old me was creeping in, wondering if they had just been drinking? If they had gotten themselves into some kind of trouble? Kicked out of the Mission . . . again? I mean, do strep and pneumonia even go together?! And what was I to do about it? In my groggy state, the new me wrestled for control. How many times had I made quick judgments, only to discover that the crazy predicaments were absolutely real—and often completely out of their control. Compassion entered into my voice. “What can I do to help? Do you need a ride? Does she need a place to stay?” I agreed to drive to Sioux Falls to see what I could do. As I informed my still groggy husband, we agreed (with some lingering skepticism) that I would go assess what was “really going on” and then make a decision about what to do next. What was “really going on” was exactly what my friend’s husband had described. I found them near 19th and Walts. The husband was waving me down from a retaining wall, my friend was asleep . . . in a drainage ditch. He gently roused her and she rose unsteadily to her feet, literally staggering to my car. As she crawled in, I could see the cotton ball peeking out from under the band aid on her forearm. I could see the hospital ID bracelet around her wrist. I later would see the discharge papers: strep . . . AND pneumonia! As we gathered a few of her things at the Mission, the lady in charge commented, “Well at least they didn’t discharge you in the middle of the night!” To which my friend responded, “They did.” “They always do that!” was this seasoned shelter worker’s response. Everything I had heard in that early morning call was true. And I learned even more, later, from my friend. Her husband had been working at his new job at Popeye’s when he got a call from his wife’s phone, from someone who wasn’t his wife. A call from one of her friends at the Mission, informing him his wife was being taken by ambulance to the ER. He had told his boss he had to go and, not having a car, he RAN from the southeast corner of Sioux Falls to the hospital in the heart of the city—nearly four miles! When they were discharged in the middle of the night, she had not had the strength—or the lung capacity!—to walk to the Mission. No buses were running until 8:45am on a Saturday morning. So, as they slept on a concrete slab, he lay next to her as a human blanket to try and keep her warm as she shivered in a feverish state. She had told him he couldn’t “bother me” in the middle of the night. But by 6am, as she lay sleeping, he used her phone to reach out to the only person he could think of who might be willing to help. And, I am ashamed to admit, that person had almost written their “crazy predicament” off as a story, a ploy to help him get his intoxicated wife back to the shelter. That person had almost let her judgmental, old self miss out on getting to be “Jesus in the skin” to a couple who needs a hand up…not more judgment. Luckily, my new self realized that what God had planned for my day was far better than the boating outing my husband and I had planned . . . for our anniversary. I realized that if my daughter had strep and was sleeping in a drainage ditch, I would hope someone would bring her home, put her in a comfortable bed, and feed her chicken soup. And so, the comfortable plans I had for the day were quickly replaced with something far less “comfortable.” And yet, I feel as I brought her chicken soup in bed, she wasn’t the only one who was healing. So, if you see people sleeping in a ditch in the wee hours of the morning . . . don’t just assume they’re passed out, drunk. They might be! But they might not . . . If you have an employee, who is “rough around the edges” and runs out early on a Friday night shift with some cockamamie story about his wife being taken to the hospital . . . don’t just assume he got a better offer, had a party he needed to get to. He might have! But maybe not . . . In walking with people through the hardest seasons of their lives, I am learning that so much of what I thought I knew—so many judgments I can so quickly make—aren’t even close to the truth. My friend’s husband has had to “run off” or miss work more than once because of the “crazy predicaments” that come up in their world. A world I realize now that I have denied and tried to seal myself off from. A world that I had known little to nothing about. This man may lose his job because he has had to respond to situations that we may simply never be able to really understand. Rather than being lazy or irresponsible or selfish, he may actually be a hardworking, devoted, sacrificial husband whose world just looks a little different than yours or mine. So next time you think to yourself, “Why don’t they just get a job?!” maybe there are parts of the story you just don’t know about. I know this couple—not everything about them, for sure—but I do know them. And I see two scenarios unfolding . . . A boss, a society, that fires him because of assumptions and lack of understanding. He loses his job. Fails to earn the money they need to get their own apartment. And, the part I haven’t told you yet, they have three children—who they LOVE —that are in the custody of CPS. Three children they stand to lose if they don’t get their own apartment. In this scenario, the stereotype, and perhaps even his own image of himself, is reinforced. He is a screw-up, worthless, irredeemable. Or . . . A boss, a society, that gives him one more chance . Maybe even an “undeserved” chance. He keeps his job. Earns the money to get their own apartment. Those three beautiful children—who they LOVE —return to the home God intended for them in the first place. A scenario where the stereotype, and perhaps even his own image of himself, is replaced with a new identity . . . in Christ . He is loved, he is precious, he is worthy—he is redeemed ! So, which scenario will we choose to be a player in? As Christians, I hope we choose the latter. Because, after all, isn’t that what Christ has done for us? Given us one more chance . Maybe even an “undeserved” chance. That is unconditional love and grace. If Christ lives in us, we will find ourselves offering more and more of that. And what kind of world could that be . . . ? “Speak and act as those who are going to be judged by the law that gives freedom, because judgment without mercy will be shown to anyone who has not been merciful. Mercy triumphs over judgment.” James 2:12-13 NIV “Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.” Matthew 5:7 NIV “This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters.” 1 John 3:16 NIV

So often, drugs and alcohol are used to numb the pain. There has been so much hurt—both physical and emotional, from the time they were very small—that they have had to find a way to deal with it. And drugs and alcohol are often their coping mechanism. So, when I meet them in the jail, they are sober—perhaps for the first time in a long time. And I see the struggle. The struggle to deal with the things that have been done to them . . . the things they have done to others. Especially pain they may have caused the ones they love the most—their families, their spouses, their children . . . And it is a tremendous struggle. The pain is raw and the tears are real. They are having to face things they have shoved down, covered up, numbed over. As my husband and I were discussing this one day, he made the simple comment, “The edges are sharp.” How true it is. Like anesthetic that numbs the pain of the surgeon’s scalpel, drugs and alcohol have numbed the pain of all the injustice life has delivered to them, as well as the consequences of their own poor choices. Now, they are undergoing surgery of the soul . . . with no anesthetic. It is so hard to watch. Yet, it is in this place where God often meets them . . . where they meet God. They find the gift of forgiveness—for others, for themselves. They find peace. A glimmer of hope. Even joy! So, when they leave the jail, they leave the walls that we may see as confining but that some of them have found to be comforting. In that place their needs are met, their responsibilities are removed, they can simply rest and . . . be. They can spend hours in the Word, in prayer, in fellowship. And so, when they leave that place and face the world once again, the onslaught ensues. They need to find a home, find a job, take care of children, face past relationships. They must get a license, get a car, make supper, do dishes, do laundry, help with homework, pay bills. Often alone. The people they used to do life with would bring triggers and temptations, reminders of who they were. The people who they should do life with often will not receive them, because of who they were. And so, they struggle, alone. This is where their newfound faith is tested. Will they continue to follow God? Or slide back into the life they just left. This is where the church is tested. Will we extend mercy and grace? Or more judgment and condemnation. This is where we are given the opportunity to give and to receive true unconditional love. This is where we have the chance to look like Christ to a watching world. Will we welcome the prostitute and the tax collector? Or will we “pray loudly from the street corners”—wearing our cross necklaces, carrying our Bibles, doling out our weekly tithe—yet failing to love at all. I fear that we can have our own addictions—to control and comfort. Our own “drugs” to soften the edges, numb the pain. Will we relinquish our control in servitude to our Lord and Master? Step out of comfort into obedient service? It will be messy. It will be painful. The edges are sharp. But then, sometimes it takes pain to get us to jump into action. The Bible forewarns that with our yes, we must pick up our cross and follow Him. He bore our pain—with nothing to numb it but the love of His Father. Dear God, may you be our comfort. The balm of Gilead, that soothes our souls. May we step willingly into the hard places you may be sending us, knowing that you will go before us. That you will never leave us or forsake us. ”If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.” 1 John 1:9 NIV “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” Romans 15:13 NIV “To some who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everyone else, Jesus told this parable: “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood by himself and prayed: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people— robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.’ But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’ I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”” Luke 18:9-14 NIV

I was raised to have a very strong work ethic. I had chores and responsibilities from the time I was very young. I got a job almost as soon as I was old enough. I would babysit and clean houses, I had a paper route. I got my first horse in seventh grade and was responsible for all its care—buying tack, paying vet and farrier bills, feed and board. By the time I was 16, I think I had three jobs . . . to “support my habit!” I was raised with the biblical principles, “If anyone is not willing to work, let him not eat,” “Go to the ant, you sluggard,” “Whatever you do, do it heartily,” “In all toil there is profit, but mere talk tends only to poverty.” And I am grateful for that upbringing. It has served me well.   But on this journey, from Pharisee to Follower, God was teaching me new things, as well. As in so many things, it’s not always black and white—there is no formula. When you are following , the rules may change.    Homegrown or Take-Out?   For example, think of the hard work it takes to get food. There is the clearing of the land, the plowing, the planting, the weeding, the watering, the harvesting. Genesis 3 makes it pretty clear, “Cursed is the ground because of you; through painful toil you will eat food from it all the days of your life. It will produce thorns and thistles for you, and you will eat the plants of the field. By the sweat of your brow you will eat your food until you return to the ground, since from it you were taken; for dust you are and to dust you will return.” And since the Fall, man has been laboring for his food.    Yet, then there is the time where God literally rained food from heaven! Exodus 16 says, “I will rain down bread from heaven for you,” “At twilight you will eat meat, and in the morning you will be filled with bread. Then you will know that I am the Lord your God.” As the Israelites were following God to the Promised Land, he provided all their needs!   So, while I am thankful for a hard, Midwestern work ethic, God has been showing me new things. As I have been following God, he has provided—in the most amazing ways!   Building on Baby Steps   Early on, I tipped my hat to God for the little ways in which he would meet our needs. The time our car broke down—when we were broke—and we got that dividend check from our utility company, from three addresses ago! The way a bonus check would come in just as it was time to fill the propane tank, and we had nothing set aside. So many little ways that God was faithful to provide. And I was thankful.   Then, as I began to follow in earnest, I began to see him in ways I would have never imagined. When I quit my job as a research scientist and CEO, our income was reduced—drastically. I had some leave time that was paid out to me, which gave us a little cushion for a while. But then, it became a walk of faith. I did not know where my next check would come from. I felt so called to begin the horse ministry, but I had no idea where a salary might come from anywhere in the near future.   We had tried to do the Dave Ramsey Financial Peace thing once before—and failed miserably. This time we had to take it seriously.  We were running on a pretty slim budget. God let us sit in that frugality long enough to develop some really healthy financial habits when he suddenly dropped a little manna and quail. Well, quite a bit of manna and quail! I received a settlement when the biomedical company we had started was sold out to a buyer. It would be enough to get by on, plus some! As I joined forces with HorsePower, the established reputation of the existing nonprofit made it much easier to raise funds for my salary. After some rough patches in the beginning, I was soon drawing a steady paycheck.    Faithful to the Faithless   When God asked me to step out in faith, once again, I entered another period of uncertainty. Like the Israelites in the desert, I was longing for the leeks and cucumbers and the pots of meat back in Egypt—the comfortable familiarity and security of a job and a paycheck, even though I had been in bondage to it! Yet, then the most unlikely thing happened. What seemed like a trial, quickly turned to blessing. Our basement flooded while we were away on vacation! But our grown children capably managed everything—from dragging everything up out of the basement to meeting the insurance guy at the house to make the claim estimate—and we returned to a physical check in our mailbox . . . for $5,000 more than we needed to make the repairs. Even though we tried to return it to the insurance company, they assured us that it was ours to keep. It was my first “paycheck” for my new assignment. Signed at the bottom, “Love , God.”   As I wandered from breadcrumb to breadcrumb—serving at this ministry, volunteering there—I was always blessed to have “enough.” My husband was a supportive and capable provider. People God had brought along on this journey were generous with their gifts of support. My church came alongside with a donation.    Even though God was faithful, there were times when I was not . . .  Sometimes, a little doubt or fear would begin to settle in. I think of Peter, walking on the water—and then looking at the waves . . . and beginning to sink.  Even as I had been walking on water—I would begin to look at the waves . . . and start to sink. When I was with a small apologetics ministry, there was such a time. We operated under the concept of deputation—each was responsible to raise their own support for their mission work out in the field. We each had a “bucket” where our gifts could be placed . . . and mine was empty. I was feeling a little desperate and like I needed to do something. Another evangelist told me about how he had been able to make some good money donating plasma. I thought, perfect! I could just use the time I spent donating plasma as my times of meditation . . . being still with the Lord. And I would be helping to save lives, I justified. I went through the entire application and screening process, only to find out I couldn’t donate. My veins weren’t big enough! The very next day , I learned there had been a $1,000 gift made in my name . . . from someone in Florida ?! I didn’t even know them. A gentle reminder that I didn’t need to worry, and I didn’t need to strive. God is great, and God is good.   Deferred Expenses   Sometimes my “income” didn’t come in the form of cash or checks, but rather in the form of deferred expenses. I drove a twenty-year-old car with more than 250,000 miles on it. The check engine light and a couple others had been on for more than half of those miles. This wasn’t really a new phenomenon for my husband and I, but usually we would put black electrical tape over the warning lights so we wouldn’t have to look at them. This time, we left them lighting up the dash. It was a constant reminder of how God was looking out for us. Our mechanic got a new technician who asked if we realized our transmission was going out . . . to which he replied, “Oh, they know. It’s been that way for like 100,000 miles!” An expense that never came to be. That car kept running like the Energizer bunny. And when we sold it, God gave us more than twice what we had hoped to get for it.   Deferred Compensation   And then, there was the big kahuna. It still gives me goose bumps to share this story. I had left the Christian camp and been given the vision for a women’s ministry, Chrysalis, but I had no idea when or how. Whether it really was a season of “tent-making,” like the apostle Paul prior to receiving his support from the local churches, or out of my own doubts and fears, I was working at several part-time gigs. That small apologetics ministry—deputational, with largely an empty bucket. Another part-time job—only 10 hours a week that utilized my Ph.D. training and actually paid quite well. But it wasn’t long before I realized, while I could do it . . . I couldn’t do it. I was capable, but my heart was just not in it. And then there was yet another ministry—a small nonprofit with a mission to activate disciples. I was working half-time with them. I loved the mission and I loved the people I worked with, but it wasn’t my mission. This wasn’t my assignment.   I remember the day I realized I had to step away like it was yesterday. I had informed my boss that, as much as I believed in what they were doing, I needed to pursue the call God had placed on my  heart. I needed to pursue this ministry that would love on these women I had come to love so much. He was so gracious. He asked if I needed a little runway . . . maybe stay on, but work fewer hours . . . at least until I got the other up and going . . .? While that sounded safe and comfortable, I knew I had to say no. I remember saying, “That is so kind, but I know I have to just be done. I have to go where God is leading.  God will provide.”   I no sooner left that meeting and got to Walmart where I needed to pick up a few things, when I received a phone call. It was from the attorney that I had reached out to about forming the non-profit, Chrysalis. He was with the same firm that had handled the patents, licensing, and ultimate sale of the biomedical company we had formed, PhotoBioMed. We had been playing a bit of phone tag for a couple weeks, at least.  So, the timing was interesting . . . to say the least.   What he said next made my head start to spin . . .  He was confirming that I had worked for PhotoBioMed, and he was asking, “Do you have deferred compensation coming?” My mind had to process what that even meant – deferred compensation . . . delayed payment . . .?! I thought to myself, “Well, I hope so! I just quit my job!”   It was as though God had arranged for my salary even as I worked up the courage to step out in another bold “yes” for him! Turns out, when this guy had gone to visit with the attorney who had worked with me on the corporate side, the other attorney had made the comment, “That’s funny. I need to give her a call on some PhotoBioMed issues,” pointing to a sticky note on his desk with my name on it. Apparently, they had had a board meeting a couple days before. They wanted to talk to me about the incentive agreement I signed with them upon leaving. Long story short, ten minutes after I quit my job, saying God would provide, I found out I would be getting money from a job I had quit ten years earlier—and it would cover my salary for a year! God just kept getting bigger . . . and I was getting tiny!   Faithful to Follow   So, I am still thankful for my work ethic, and there may be times of tent-making for sure. Times where I may be asked to work so that I can provide the gospel for free. But there are also times where I will rest in him and trust in his provision. If I am following him and he asks me to step out in faith, he will provide the manna and the quail. After all, a worker is worth his wages. So, you see, the Bible is clear . . .  that it is unclear.  Sometimes we must work.  Sometimes we must trust.  Always, we must follow.   “Cursed is the ground because of you; through painful toil you will eat food from it all the days of your life.” Genesis 3:17b NIV     “I have heard the grumbling of the Israelites. Tell them, ‘At twilight you will eat meat, and in the morning you will be filled with bread. Then you will know that I am the Lord your God.’” Exodus 16:12 NIV   “We remember the fish we ate in Egypt at no cost—also the cucumbers, melons, leeks, onions and garlic.” Numbers 11:5 NIV   “And my God will meet all your needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:19 NIV     “So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ . . .  But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.” Matthew 6:31,33 NIV

While I had peace in this season of advent—another period of waiting, expectantly—I couldn’t help but wonder . . . what was next? I trusted the Lord to show up. I trusted there was a Master plan. I just doubted my role in it. And my ability to hear him . . . It was perhaps a couple months after parting ways with the church camp that I had a very restless night. I couldn’t fall asleep, my mind just kept going and going. I was thinking of this breadcrumb trail he had led me down. I was thinking about how God’s plan often looked different in the rearview mirror than it had when I started down that stretch of the trail. The breadcrumbs were still clearly from God, but what I thought would happen in between the breadcrumbs was often different than what God did between the breadcrumbs. His plan was always better than mine. I found myself thinking of the amazing women God had placed in my life. Women from every walk . . . but some of my dear friends, now, were women I may not have even said hi to in my old life. I lay awake in my bed marveling at how God transformed people. We are made new creations . . . the old is gone, the new has come. So often, I would remind the gals in the jail of that. Romans 12:2 was a favorite go-to verse, “Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” Just as I had encouraged those young girls that summer so many years before, driving home, hot and sweaty with the faint smell of leather and horse . . . “Your life could be different.” But back then, my emphasis had been on them making good choices. On their behavior . God had brought me a long way. Now my emphasis was on accepting and knowing God! This verse would come up often, and along with it the analogy of a butterfly. How the caterpillar goes into its cocoon and comes out completely new! It was such a beautiful image. I just pictured these women in their stripes in the jail, emerging with new wings and taking flight. But, so often, it seemed they were struggling to fly . . . Women would come into the jail and they would go, only to return again . . . and again . . . and again. This cycle seemed relentless, and I felt powerless to help. Even as they found Jesus and his amazing grace and hope, they seemed stuck in the cycle. As I began to walk with these women more on the outside, I began to see their struggle firsthand. Life was hard! They faced so many challenges and didn’t have a healthy support system to help them navigate them. It was so hard to watch! I just wanted to put them in a bubble. As I lay there that night, pondering all this, it occurred to me that while I may have been dismissed from the camp, perhaps I had not been “fired” from this calling! The Bunkhouse had been a concept we had come up with at the camp to provide some longer-term support for these women I was walking with. A safe place to be nurtured and guided and loved . . . a place to be transformed! Perhaps I was to continue to pursue that concept? Romans 12:2 and the image of the butterfly kept rolling through my mind. It was like the Lord was showing me all the things I had learned in my time at the camp—even if very little of it had to do with the camp!—and how all of that could still be put towards helping these women. Chrysalis. We would call it Chrysalis. I didn’t realize this at one o’clock in the morning, but moths transform in a cocoon. For butterflies, the proper term is chrysalis. Chrysalis. I didn’t even know how to spell it. By two o’clock I was up on my computer, googling chrysalis . . . caterpillars . . . butterflies . . . I found myself googling information about their eyes. What was it about their eyes? I learned that a caterpillar, which technically has 12 eyes, is virtually blind—essentially only able to perceive light vs. dark, with very little depth perception. If you see a caterpillar rear up and seem to wave around a bit, they are gauging their position, determining if it is safe to make that next move. When they emerge from the chrysalis, they have 12,000 eyes! Eyes that see light even the human eye can’t see. And they process images far faster, so they can safely maneuver as they fly. How cool is that?! And how true for us, as well . . . Before Christ, we are virtually blind—barely able to distinguish darkness from the light. But after our transformation, the blind can see! We are given spiritual eyes, eyes that can see what human eyes can’t see. I was still wide awake, my mind continuing to race. Pieces of the puzzle flashing before my new eyes. Seemingly unrelated events and experiences that were coming together, as only God could orchestrate. The vision seemed big! But then, he is a big God . . . And so, the concept of Chrysalis was birthed. I didn’t know how, and I didn’t know when. But I continued to wait . . . expectantly. “For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing.” Romans 7:18b-19 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 “Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.” Romans 12:2 NIV

To the Board, I have had some time to reflect on the events that have unfolded, and I just wanted to say a few words in parting. First, even though we have not had much of a chance to really get to know one another, I hope that each of you knows that I have always been passionate about the camp and what I believe God wants to do there. And I hope that each of you knows that I believe that all of us—the entire board, the staff, and myself—were al l called to be here, for this time. And so this has been difficult. Confusing . . . And in my reflections over this past week or so, and with the help of some amazing friends who have helped me to see past my own hurt or feelings of rejection, I have come to some powerful insights that I wanted to share. As you know, I have felt so confident that I was following God, doing his will. I was seeing him all the time and stood in awe at the amazing things that only he could orchestrate. I couldn't help but tell everyone all that I had seen and heard! I was so sure that he had led me here and that he was prepared to do a mighty work. But I'm afraid I had written my own ending to the story. It occurred to me, the disciples were literally following Jesus. They were seeing him at work all the time, doing the amazing things that no one else had ever done before. They couldn't help but share all that they had seen and heard. They were so sure that this was the Messiah, that he had come to redeem Israel! But they had written their own ending to the story as well. So, when I was informed that it had been decided to “terminate our relationship,” I was simply stunned. I felt like the disciples must have felt as they saw their Messiah hung on a cross. As they sat behind locked doors wondering what had just happened and what were they supposed to do now . . . I, too, have been sitting, pondering, wondering what just happened and what am I supposed to do now. And yet, in that Easter story, Jesus shows up in that locked room. He had a different ending to the story! A much grander one! More than the disciples could have ever asked or imagined. He would indeed redeem Israel—not only from Roman opposition, but from their sin! Cleansing them so that all who believe may have eternal life in the presence of a holy God. And so, I walk in trust. God will show up. He has the real ending to the story. And I trust that it is more than we could ever ask or imagine. What I have been reminded of in this confusing time is that God is good, he is sovereign, he is faithful. Who am I to question this “bump in the road”?! I will continue to follow where he leads, and whether this trail eventually leads back to this camp or if our paths diverge and we go our separate ways, I trust that he will lead us to a glorious destination. More than we could ever ask or imagine! And so, I wait expectantly. In this season of advent, I once again wait expectantly for Jesus to make a way! Thank you for the faith you showed in providing for my position as long as you did. I have grown so much and learned so much as I have been allowed to follow the leading of the Holy Spirit. I hope that I, in some way, have contributed to the mission of this place as well. I pray that the board retreat went well, that God gave you clarity and direction, and that you have peace as you move forward on this journey. May God go with you and bless you! In Christ's service, Kaia “And who knows but that you have come to your royal position for such a time as this?” Esther 4:14b NIV “(They still did not understand from Scripture that Jesus had to rise from the dead.)” John 20:9 NIV “On the evening of that first day of the week, when the disciples were together, with the doors locked for fear of the Jewish leaders, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you!”” John 20:19 NIV

I had recently presented to the board of a ministry I was working for regarding the grand vision for the ministry we appeared called to—not just the programs and the facilities, but how God inspired the vision and had been leading us all along the way. I shared that, as eager as we may be to “get this thing done,” we needed to continue to be patient with the Lord’s timing. While I knew it seemed reasonable and practical to do the traditional fundraising schemes to raise the funds—hire a development director, send out mass mail appeals, have benefit dinners and silent auctions—I shared that I felt that God had clearly been telling me all along that he had this one. That he wanted to do this in a way that would bring glory to him alone. That if we were patient, he would bring the funding in his way and in his time. I shared how much I had seen him accomplish throughout this time of apparent “waiting.” I shared the story of Sarah and Abraham and warned against premature actions or striving on our part. We might accomplish the goal of raising the funds, but I feared we would not get the ministry God had envisioned if we got in the way too much.   A couple days later, in those early morning hours, I could see an image in my mind’s eye. It was a torso with a blue polo shirt on . . . stretched over a life jacket . . . all buttoned up. A tight, stretched, bulky polo all buttoned up tight. As the image sort of panned out, I could see it was a staff shirt for the ministry, blue with white on the sleeves and the logo on the front.   As so often before, upon awakening, I instantly realized what it represented. While many Christians may have Jesus as their Savior, thus the lifejacket, they fail to live out their faith in a way that gives him the glory. Rather, they hide it under their own strivings and accomplishments. Whether it is arrogance or lack of trust or lack of belief, we tend to want to operate in our own strength rather than letting God show up and show off. I believe the vision represented that people would see a well-run, sensible organization (the polo shirt) rather than a mighty God and Savior (the life jacket). The verse, “And he did not do many miracles there because of their lack of faith”  came to me. What would God do if we just let him? What if we wore our life jacket on the outside?!   “All honor and glory to God forever and ever!” 1 Timothy 1:17a NIV   “So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God.” 1 Corinthians 10:31 NIV   “And he did not do many miracles there because of their lack of faith.” Matthew 13:58 NIV