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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

Well, a half million-dollar pledge will certainly get people’s attention. Suddenly, my almost covert operation at the camp became front and center. The staff and the board were taking notice, beginning to believe that perhaps this expansion of the horse program could actually come to pass. Maybe that crazy lady in the janitor’s closet was on to something! There was the good and the bad in this. I was glad to be taken somewhat seriously, but I knew I had to be careful not to let it become about me or what I could accomplish. It was great to have the board’s interest and support, but they quickly wanted to jump to conventional means of fundraising. Even as I tried to remain spiritually alert and prayerful . . . they began the process of hiring a development director. Sometimes I fear that we have Americanized ministry. That we have put common sense business practices in the place of fervent prayer and radical obedience. I’m afraid we have put God in a box. While we may hear from God, initially, we so often resort to our own capability and self-sufficiency. Present company included. So, we see a lot of well-run organizations . . . we don’t see too many miracles. I think of the verse that tells us of how Jesus failed to do many miracles in his hometown, because of their unbelief. I had fallen back to my old ways before, at HorsePower. I didn’t want another “relapse.” Oh, how I longed to let go and let God! But familiar paths are so easily followed, the ruts are deep. With barely a nod to the unsolicited, effortless gift of half a million dollars, they began to strive. At one point, as I shared with the board, I implored that they wait on the Lord and not move without God’s clear leading. I reminded them of the story of Abraham and Sarah. Impatient with God’s timing and lacking faith that he could provide a son through her, Sarah had given Abraham her handmaiden, Hagar, so that she could provide him with a son. While that union did result in a son, Ishmael, this was not the son God’s promises would come through. In time, Sarah did eventually bear a son, Isaac, through whom the promised Messiah would come. However, Ishmael’s line became a great nation, as well—one with whom the Israelites have been at war with, to this very day. Our impatience or impertinence can have serious consequences. One day, prior to a meeting with the director, the word “smote” came to my mind. What kind of word is that, anyway . . . smote? It was more than a word, but a phrase, “smote the rock.” While I kind of knew it was biblical, and I had a vague familiarity with the Old Testament story it might have come from, I had to Google the phrase. It was indeed biblical, King James version. I didn’t even have a copy of the King James version. It was the story in Numbers, chapter 20, where the people of Israel were once again complaining about having no water to drink. The Lord said to Moses and Aaron, “Speak ye unto the rock before their eyes; and it shall give forth His water.” But when Moses had gathered the people, he said, “Must we fetch you water from this rock? . . . and with his rod, he smote the rock twice.” Moses was not only disobedient, failing to do it just as God had commanded—he took the glory for himself. I shared this with the director, again, imploring him that we wait on God’s timing. That we be as obedient as possible so that HE may receive all the glory—not us! Moses and Aaron never entered the promised land. Our impatience or impertinence can have serious consequences. It would seem that they were tiring of the crazy lady in the janitor’s closet. They didn’t heed my warnings and they proceeded going about the fundraising and promotion just like any new program . . . or business . . . They failed to raise any other substantial funds for the horse ministry, other than a few small donations totaling around $5,000. They seemed oblivious to the fact that God had raised a hundredfold, with no striving. I was really struggling. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to operate the way I felt we needed to in the present environment. I didn’t know how I could stay on . . . but I didn’t feel released to go! It was a really hard time. I think I had to buy a few extra tubes of mascara, again. I would have called it holy discontent, but the call there had been so profound. I didn’t know what to do. At one point, I was so frustrated. It felt as though as soon as I started to move on something, the director would step in to take over, yet failing to make any progress himself. It reminded me of when I took my driver’s license exam—the second time. You see, I had gotten my license at fourteen (my parents got tired of driving me out to the barn to see my horse!). So, at sixteen, although I had already been driving for two years, I took Driver’s Education to get the discount on my insurance. The final driving test was a mere formality, then, since I already had my license. I was going through all the motions, easily passing each step. As we went to pull out into traffic, I may have “shot the gap” a bit. I knew I could easily slip into traffic—apparently the instructor was not quite so sure. Probably used to brand new drivers, he was worried that I wouldn’t be aggressive enough to merge into traffic. In a panic, his foot shot over to the gas pedal with the intent to gun it. In doing so, my foot was pushed off, his was not on, and we stalled out. Luckily, we did not get hit and we didn’t cause any accidents! But I did fail my exam. That’s how I felt with the horse ministry. My foot was shoved off the gas pedal, his was not on, and we were stalled out. They weren’t willing to simply pray and trust God, yet their fundraising efforts were going nowhere. We were stalled out. I thought perhaps maybe I could serve as the director of the horse ministry—collaborating with the camp and its board—while the director remained in charge of the camp itself. I would be free to respond to God the way I felt called . . . Perhaps that would get things moving? This suggestion apparently did not go over well with the director. I was met by him and a board member at our next meeting. They informed me that there were “insufficient funds” to keep me on during the upcoming budget year. I was, effectively, dismissed. I remember heart-wrenching sobs coming from deep within. Could someone be fired from a calling? I was so confused . . . “The prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective.” James 5:16b NIV “Now Sarai, Abram’s wife, had borne him no children. But she had an Egyptian slave named Hagar; so she said to Abram, “The Lord has kept me from having children. Go, sleep with my slave; perhaps I can build a family through her.” Abram agreed to what Sarai said.” Genesis 16:1-2 NIV ““Hear now, ye rebels; must we fetch you water out of this rock? And Moses lifted up his hand, and with his rod he smote the rock twice;” Numbers 20:10b-11a KJV “As you do not know the path of the wind, or how the body is formed in a mother’s womb, so you cannot understand the work of God, the Maker of all things.” Ecclesiastes 11:5 NIV

In visiting with a young man in a correctional facility, he came to a point where he began to pull back the veil on some of the awful things he had done in the past. I shared that it didn’t matter to me what he had done in the past. I didn’t see him according to what he had done or who he had been, but rather I saw him for what he could be . . . what God desired for him to be. He responded with way too much wisdom for a 16-year-old, “Sometimes people like me want to tell you what we have done. It’s a test, in some ways, to see if you will still like us.”    Ouch. How many had failed the test in the past? How many people, Christians included, had written him off once they found out the things he had done? Labeled him as delinquent, troubled, dangerous, cruel . . . evil—and left him for “the system” to take care of? The walls he would have had to put up to protect his heart from that hurt had to be tall and wide.    Will we love with the love of Christ? A love that sees beyond the behaviors to the hurt beneath and the heart within? Only love can tear those walls down and God alone can heal those wounds. Yet we  are the hands and feet! "How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!" ( Romans 10:15)   May we come to love like Christ as we walk with the hurting and the broken, looking past what has been—even what is—to what could be. May we enter every encounter believing that they will be  redeemed and transformed. Sometimes we have to believe for  them, before they can believe it for themselves.    “ Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.   It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.” 1 Corinthians 13:4-5 NIV   “But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” Romans 5:8 NIV   “We love because he first loved us.” 1 John 4:19 NIV

I have spent a lot of my life in a very comfortable place. I knew that there was child abuse and neglect, I just didn’t know the child that was abused and neglected . . . or the adult they became. Sometimes you kick over a rock or a rotting log and you can see some pretty disgusting things. Slimy things, decaying things, scattering and scavenging things. Those creepy critters go running when they see the light. In these last few years, I have looked under a few rocks . . . I saw the tears run down her face as she shared the pain she felt as a two or three-year-old child, waiting in a dark house in a dark room, wondering when her mommy would come back . . . if she would come back. The foster mom told me that he had been raped so badly that he didn’t have a normal bowel movement for a year . . . he was four. When I asked what made her doubt if there was a God, she replied with tears, “I haven’t been a virgin since I was two. Every man in my life has used me and abused me. If there is a God in heaven who would forgive these men, I would rather burn in hell.” He remembers, as a little boy, being duct-taped to the floor of a closet while his mom would go out drinking . . . to keep him safe. The little girl who tried so hard to be a boy wasn’t gender confused . . . she just didn’t get raped as often if she looked like a boy. For lunch, he remembers that he and his sister would get hot dogs off the rollers at the corner gas station where his mom kept an account for them . . . or at least that’s what the clerk told them. Her school morning routine wasn’t cereal and cartoons . . . it was bringing a beer to her stepdad as he lay naked on the couch and watched pornography. He asked his mom to scratch off the serial number on his new PlayStation® so his dad wouldn’t pawn it for drinking money . . . he was nine. She refused to take a shower at the children’s home and was labeled a stubborn and rebellious child . . . turns out it had been in the shower that her mother’s many boyfriends had raped her . . . her mom got drug money in exchange. She turned to cutting to try to avoid the emotional pain she couldn’t deal with . . . when she got caught doing this, her mother went and got a big knife and told her she may as well do it right. So, there are times where I just want to scream, slam the rock back down, run away and pretend I never saw any of those awful things. The thing is, we can close our eyes and turn away, but that doesn’t make it go away . . . it’s still happening. The question is: are we willing to step into the dark and bring the light? “This is the verdict: Light has come into the world, but people loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil.” John 3:19 NIV “Have nothing to do with the fruitless deeds of darkness, but rather expose them.” Ephesians 5:11 NIV “Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good.” Romans 12:9 NIV

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