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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

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

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

It was like a big garage or a warehouse. The walls, probably fifty feet tall, were made of cinder blocks. All painted white. About two thirds of the way up, there was a ledge about five feet wide that went all the way around the room. It was a huge space, completely empty . . .  with the exception of the ladder. It was like a regular, free-standing painting ladder—forming a tall  triangle, but it was much taller than any ladder I’d ever seen. I’m quite sure they don’t make ladders that style that tall, and for a reason. It made for a pretty precarious ascent.    A woman was climbing the ladder and there was a man on the ledge. He was trying to hold the ladder—to steady it—but it was just a little too far from the ledge. He stood on the ledge and watched her climb steadily upward. As she neared the top, the ladder began to sway . . . and that is when she fell. Probably thirty or forty feet down, landing on a concrete floor.   People, who came from seemingly nowhere, rushed to her still body lying on the ground, face up. As they pulled her towards them, a wet stain streaked behind her head on the concrete floor. It didn’t look good. But then, she was up! A little disoriented and feeling a little woozy, but she seemed okay. There was a little blood matted in her hair, but she seemed able to go about functioning as normal.   Amazed that she could have survived the fall so well, I stepped up to examine her head more closely. As I parted the bloody, matted hair, I could see there was an entire section of her skull completely missing. Her brain was completely exposed. The injury was so devastating that it seemed there was no way she could actually be alive, let alone functioning as seemingly normal.   And that was it. That was the whole dream. I pondered it that morning, but I couldn’t make much sense of it. I really had no idea what it could mean. I proceeded with my devotionals and my time with the Lord. I found myself journaling a bit—which I can tend to do when my head and my heart are trying to wrestle something out or to resolve something. I was journaling about my journey, and where God was leading. It had been this crazy, winding, path—never going where I would have expected, sometimes running into what seemed dead-ends—that appeared to have brought me right back to where I started: creation ministry . . . only much more prepared!    You see, with the closing of Chrysalis and in the absence of ongoing missionary support, I had applied for a position at Answers in Genesis (AiG). If I had to get a “real” job, I had thought perhaps I could at least use my science background, as well as my passion for sharing the gospel with evidence, by doing some researching and writing for this ministry that had really sort of started it all for me. And as I googled job openings at AIG, tucked in amongst cafeteria workers, greeters, zookeepers, and web designers, there it was . . . Science and Apologetics Writer/Editor. It couldn’t have been a more fitting job description! Since it would be mostly reading and writing, I was hoping they might consider allowing me to do the job remotely. In my mind, it could be perfect! The initial interviews had gone well, indeed, they seemed to perhaps be considering how they might use my skills and experiences beyond the position that I had applied for.    In my musings, I found myself wondering if, indeed, it may be time to go back to the “real world.” Just like I tell other women who struggle with addictions that there may be a day when they will be strong enough to go back for friends and family fighting the same battle . . . was it time for me to go back for “my people”? The churched . . . the people in the pews . . . the modern-day Pharisees . . . those wondering if there was something more to truly following  Jesus . . . all the Nicodemuses out there? Was my surrender sure enough? My roots deep enough? My faith great enough?      Just after finishing my musings, I checked my emails. Even as I had been journaling, I had received an email from AiG saying they would like to visit with me about a possible Speaker position! I had not dared to dream of such a thing, and yet here it was—an amazing opportunity with an international ministry that was working to restore the authority of scripture, uphold the truth of God’s word and rebuild the church! The platform could be a tremendous opportunity. God willing, the kingdom impact could be huge. I wasn’t quite sure what to think or how to feel! Honored . . . overwhelmed . . . excited . . . intimidated . . .     It was then that the vision of the ladder came back to my mind. That’s what it had meant. I was being presented with an opportunity that could take my tendency to want to rise up on my own pedestal to the next level. This was a tall  ladder. And a fall from such great heights could be a fatal blow. My pride could possibly creep in until I began working, once again, in my own strength. Reveling in my own accomplishments and achievements, leaving God behind. The man on the ledge, wanting to steady that precariously tall ladder . . . but just out of reach?  It was Jesus.  Longing to help . . . but kept just out of arm’s reach.   I realized, I had better stay close!  If I was given the opportunity to do such incredible kingdom work, I had better keep that ladder right next to the wall.  I better let Jesus hold on tightly to me, steadying me as I took on this mission, rather than trying to do it alone.  I better not just get others to dig in God’s Word—I had better do it myself.  I better not become so confident in my ability that I lose sight of my desperate need for Him.  I better not build monuments to myself—rather, give all the glory to God.  Scripture warns us that pride goes before a fall.  And, the crazy thing is, that we can go on functioning as “normal” in this world, even as we are “dead” in the spiritual realm.  Lord, don’t let me try to do this on my own!  This . . .   or anything else that comes my way.  Let me stay so close to you that I may never fall.  Thank you for your warnings . . .   in your Word — and, especially, in my life.  I stand in awe that you would send a personal reminder . . . just for me.  Who am I that you would think of me . . . ?!   “Pride goes before destruction, a haughty spirit before a fall.” Proverbs 16:18 NIV   “But when his heart became arrogant and hardened with pride, he was deposed from his royal throne and stripped of his glory.” Daniel 5:20 NIV   “Remain in me, as I also remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me.” John 15:4 NIV   “But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved.” Ephesians 2:4-5   “…but she who is self-indulgent is dead even while she lives.” 1 Timothy 5:6 ESV   “…what is mankind that you are mindful of them, human beings that you care for them?” Psalm 8:4 NIV

In a trying season, I was reminded of John Wesley’s perspective on persecution. There was a time when he bemoaned the fact that he had gone three whole days without anyone throwing a brick or a rotten egg at him! That should be a good thing, except that Jesus Himself reminds us that if we are living a godly life, we will face persecution. And so, in this season, I was trying to remember that persecution could be a good indication that I was somehow on the right track. Some days it was harder to remember than others.   On this day, as I prepared to present to a group of adolescents at a behavioral health center, I once again had some trepidation. My confidence was down. The stench from rotten eggs and the bruises from bricks and stones being thrown at me were still fresh. Reflecting on all the things that had happened in the past week or so, I had come to realize that when I was not immersed—in God’s word and in Christian fellowship—my presentations were far less engaging or compelling. The Spirit was not in my words like it was when I had been filling with the Spirit. My devotionals and other things had been emphasizing that we don’t convince people of truth, we point them to Christ. Truth isn’t facts  to be convinced of, but a person —Jesus Christ! I resolved to go in love , to bring hope , not arguments. To point them to Christ, not debate worldviews. My resolve was soon to be tested.   From Bricks to “Blown Away”     A young man who was flamboyantly gay with a sweeping mop of blue hair on his head was quick to interject “witty” comments as I presented on the flood. When I asked them what they thought of when they heard the word “catastrophe” there were a few reasonable attempts to respond and this young man said with all seriousness, “When I think of the word catastrophe, I think of . . . diarrhea!"  I good naturedly agreed that could indeed be catastrophic! However, when I asked them about uniformitarianism, I asked, “How does everyone look when they are wearing a uniform?” (Seeking the response, “The same.”) The young man responded, “ Hot! ” Knowing I needed to nip this in the bud, I quickly dismissed his response by answering on my own.   As the talk progressed, the group seemed particularly engaged. Even the heckler ceased his heckling, even nodding in agreement from time to time. I ended by telling them that I brought this kind of evidence so that they might come to see the Bible as something they could place their trust in, to find hope in. That they were, indeed, made in the image of God and that he had a purpose for each of their lives—even if they were in the midst of hard circumstances. There wasn’t a lot of time for questions or discussion at the end, but I thanked them for their attention and they began to file out.   The blue-haired heckler approached as I was putting away my computer, with the chaplain putting away the projector nearby. I braced myself, but was surprised by what he had come to say. “I just wanted to thank you. Thank you for coming—and for using real science to make your points. It seems like whenever I have gone to a group like this, or approached a Christian with questions that I struggle with, they always point me back to the Bible. But if you don’t believe the Bible, their defenses are pointless! I am not saying that what you said today is going to change my mind about God or the Bible . . . but you’ve got me thinking!”   I was overjoyed! I told him that was exactly why I had left research and was doing what I was doing. That I believed with all my heart that this was a message that so many needed to hear.    As he left, another young man came back into the room. He, too, admitted that the presentation had “blown him away”! He asked if there had been people on the ark and seemed incredulous that the stories of the Bible could actually represent fact and history and science. I was able to share a bit more and point him to some resources if he was interested in more evidence for the Christian faith.   One More Question   As he left, the first young man returned. He said he had one more question for me, and I was pretty sure I knew what it was going to be. He went on to say, “I . . . well, I am gay. A lot of people use their faith to justify persecution and hateful treatment of people who are gay. I was wondering what you thought about this?”   Mind racing . . . so many things . . . we had already been informed that this was a topic the chaplain and staff would handle and that we weren’t to address it . . . the chaplain was right there . . . but mostly, it was the look in his eyes . . . it was so genuine, so raw . . . it was as though somehow I had been deemed a “nice Christian” and he was truly interested to know what I thought about this . . .   In that moment, it was as though I knew with no uncertainty that I was representing Christ to this young “gay” “heckler.” My heart was absolutely heavy with the weight of that responsibility. He had to see my love for him—Christ’s love for him. Yet I must stand for truth . . .     From the fruits of the wrestling I had been through in just that past week—as I washed off the rotten eggs and nursed the tender bruises from the cast stones—the love of Christ rose up and overflowed from the very heart of me.    “First of all, the people that are persecuting and hating on gays are NOT representing Christ. Christ told us to love everyone,  regardless. Those people are sinful people who are not following the teachings of Christ. I have family members that are gay, I love people who are gay.”   “I told you, I come not to tell you what  to believe, but why to believe. I point people to God’s word so that he  can tell them what is right and what is wrong. It is not my opinion, but God’s. As far as my  interpretation of what God says about homosexuality, I believe that God’s will is that we enter into monogamous, heterosexual relationships. We all have things we struggle with, I have my own things that I want to do that God says are wrong. And I wrestle with that because it seems good to me and I want to do those things. But because I have come to trust God and his word—that he is wise, and kind, and loving and knows what is best for me—I do my best to follow his guidelines for my life. It’s not just homosexuality, my brother struggled for years with addiction. There are those who say that there is a genetic component to that as well. Yet, addiction was not a good place for him to remain—I didn’t want him to stay there. In fact, his story is a big part of why I am here today. When God got a hold of him, he was absolutely transformed ! He was completely freed from his addiction. And, I have heard the same for many who struggle with homosexuality! That God completely freed them from those desires!”    Germinating Seeds   He just looked deep into my eyes with the most serious expression. Some sadness . . . it wasn’t what he had hoped to hear. But no defensiveness or hostility. It was as though he was really processing all of this at a really deep level. I had to thank him for how he was handling himself in this whole discussion. “Thank you for this civil discourse. It’s not always that way, you know. Sometimes, we too are treated poorly for what we believe.” He nodded in agreement, “I’m sure that’s true.” I affirmed once again, “So thank you. You have made my day. I want you to know that I will be praying for you on your journey.” He smiled a sweet smile and left with a nod and a wave.   I am so grateful that God knew how much I needed that encouragement and affirmation, myself, on that day. He doesn’t have  to show me any germinating seeds from my obedience—but he does! Oh, how I hope to someday see that young man in heaven! That God will one day show me the full bloom of that obedience—what God can do through us when we say yes . . . even in the face of persecution.   “So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God  he created them; male and female he created them.” Genesis 1:27 NIV   “In him we were also chosen, having been predestined according to the plan of him who works out everything in conformity with the purpose of his will,” Ephesians 1:11 NIV   “Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God.” 1 John 4:7 NIV   “…for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God…” Romans 3:23 NIV

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