Spuddie's Big Adventure

The baby of the family leaves on Monday for the wilds of A . . . . I can't say the name of the country for security reasons, but let's just say the population is 95% Muslim. She's going to be working with a half-way house for girls coming out of prostitution. Teaching them English, living skills, and the love of God. They will also be spending time in G., working in orphanages I believe. She is too excited for words.
My daughters have all grown in grace this year, but Candyce has been transformed. She truly is beginning to walk in her calling, to fulfill God's destiny for her life. She has an exuberance, a radiance about her these days, it's quite contagious. Her name means "brilliant, bright white" and the powers of darkness don't stand a chance.
She's a resourceful one, this girl. While at Ecola Bible school last year, she decided she wanted a tatoo. Being a poor Bible college student, she didn't have the cash. So, she roped a few friends into driving to Seaside with her and they serenaded the tourists until the coffer was filled. Outreach will be a piece of cake for Candyce.
We will miss her like crazy, but can't wait to hear about all the wild adventures and God-things that happen during the next two months.
Keep her in prayer. If you'd like to contact her for more info, leave a comment and I'll send her email address.

My friend Debbie

Over the years, I've met some incredible people and Debbie Evans is certainly at the top of my list.
She's funny, she loves Jesus, she loves people.
And she has AIDs.
When we lived in California, Debbie used to hang out with our family a lot. Sometimes she'd spend the night with us or even spend the weekend. My daughters never thought twice about giving up their bedroom to someone with a deadly disease--they just loved Debbie and were always happy to have her around.
Sometimes Debbie felt pretty good, but there were other visits when she was very sick. After one rough night, Debbie asked if we could go to the river and just sit there for a while. I wasn't even sure she had enough strength to get into our van, but she made it and curled up in the back seat while I drove as carefully as I could to the river.
It's a moment in time I'll never forget. I had some worship music playing, Debbie was trying not to get sick as I navigated the dirt road that wound down to the water. I was beginning to think this outing wasn't such a great idea when the Presence of the Lord filled that dusty old van.
I nearly had to pull over--the experience was so intense! The main thing I was aware of, however, was how very much Jesus loved Debbie. How precious this fragile, dying woman was in His sight. I felt like I was on holy ground.
Debbie had revived a bit by the time we reached the river. We walked along the beach and she picked out a few colorful pebbles to add to her collection back home. Then we sat on a rock and watched the river rush by and listened to the birds chatter. Although she was still sick and weak, Debbie only radiated God's peace and joy.
Even though she has been hospitalized twice in the past month for various complications of her disease, Debbie isn't afraid to die. She called me several months ago, after yet another brush with death, to tell me she loved me. "I might not have tomorrow," she said, "so I want you to hear my voice today telling you how much I love and appreciate you and your family." While she talked to me, I once again felt the Lord's presence, and His great love for Debbie. I finished that conversation with her humbled and on my knees.
I wish you all could experience Debbie. She's never met a stranger, and loves to tell people about Jesus. When she is able, she speaks to churches, schools, and other venues about His amazing grace.
She sent me her testimony recently, and I've asked her permission to post it on my blog. So hopefully you will soon read her story and be blessed by her life as I have.
To be continued . . .

Swatting the lord of the Flies

Two weeks into the fast . . .
It still amazes me that I am able to flick away fearful thoughts like so many flies crawling on the wall. Of course, old Beelzebub--"the Lord of the Flies"--isn't going to buzz off so easily. If he can't scare me in the light of day, he'll try terrorizing me in the shadowland of my dreams.
Three times this past week I've dreamed about the things that frighten me most--abandonment, rejection and loss. These particular fears have been my unwanted companions for as far back as my memory stretches. I have one vivid recollection of lying in a motel bed, trying desperately to stay awake because I was scared to death that if I fell asleep, my parents would sneak away in the night and leave me. I must have been around 5 years old, and we were on vacation. I don't remember why I feared abandonment, but I recall the terrible anxiety all too well. It is the same terror I feel at the propect of being abandoned by loved ones in my recent dreams.
Previously, these dreams would have wrecked me. And I did awaken with an adrenaline rush of fear and a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach after each nightmare. But as the dreams faded, I would recall that fear is not from the Lord, the dream was not real, and that I could choose to reject night terrors just as easily as daytime worries.
And that's what I did.
The verse I've been meditating on the past few days is:
"I sought the Lord and He answered me, He delivered me from all my fears." Ps. 34:4
Thank You, Jesus, for delivering me both day and night!

The mouse that roared

Something inside me has changed. It almost feels like I've shed fear like a snake sheds its skin. Or maybe it's more like God has cut the tethers that bound me to the spirit of Fear, and I have risen above it by His grace. I can see my old fearful patterns and habits from a new vantage point, and it's kind of like watching a terrified mouse trapped in a maze. When frightened (which was more often than I like to admit), my poor mousey soul would habitually shrink back and end up cowering in a corner, defenseless against the prodding torments of my mortal emeny, the Spirit of Fear.
Today, however, I realize I am not trapped, that I can actually climb right out of the maze and land safely on the promises of God. I know that this grace has always been available to me, as it is to any child of God, but I feel as if I have supernatural understanding of it right now. Sort of like my emotional and mental patterns are being rewired, as the mind of Christ is being formed in me.
As if all this wasn't exhilarating enough, I found an amazing picture of Jesus this week. I collect old pictures of Jesus and am always on the lookout for different portrayals of Him. This painting depicts Jesus, standing calmly on the surface of the water, reaching to pull Peter out of the angry waves. If you know the story, Jesus calls Peter to come to Him from the boat, and Peter immediately climbs out of the boat and begins to walk across the water to Jesus. After a few good slaps in the face by the wind and waves, however, Peter takes his eyes off Jesus and begins to sink. Fear replaces faith and his supernatural journey ends as quickly as it began.
Lord, help me to keep my eyes on you during this journey. Don't let the waves of fear drive me back into the boat.
Amen

Today it's your birthday!

My daughter may disown me after this, but I wanted to blog about her on the day of her birth--22 years after the fact.
Danielle Louise was actually born on her due date, at a godly hour after only 8 hours of labor. Her birth did interrupt the last episode ever of M.A.S.H., but overall, she was quite considerate.
God's hand has been on her from her earliest days. She was in a terrible car accident when she was five months old. It killed her older brother, Jonah, and severely injured her dad and me. She and her sister, Lindsay, were in the back seat, strapped into car seats and were not even scratched. Even though we learned later that Danielle's car seat had split down the middle!
When we took her in for her six month infant exam (her dad and I still in wheelchairs), the doctor told us that her head circumference had grown beyond normal bounds. He suspected either a brain tumor or hydrocephalus (water on the brain). The latter was confirmed after a battery of tests, and Danielle's head continued to enlarge as fluid built up in the ventricles of her brain. The doctors told us they might be able to put in a shunt when she turned a year.
Having just buried our son, we cried out to God for mercy. After several months of anxiety over her condition, the elders of our church decided to come anoint Danielle with oil and pray for her healing. We felt the Spirit's presence in a tangible way, and the next time we took her to the doctor's, the scans showed her head had stopped growing and the fluid was draining off. After six week, she was declared cured! God had mercy on us and showed His favor toward Danielle.
She always had a special way about her, a leaning toward the things of God. When she was around 18 months, a friend of mine commented that the hand of God was obviously upon Danielle. That comment has been often repeated!
When she was 8, we took the girls to visit my dad, who was dying of cancer in the hospital in Kansas.My kids had never met my father, and I video-taped the event because I knew they'd never see him again. Before we left, Danielle asked, "Can we pray for you, Grandpa?"
"Sure, why the hell not?" he replied.
We all laid hands on him and prayed for his healing. Several weeks later I got a call from him declaring my my girls were the best prayers in the world. Dad's tumor had completely disappeared and the doctors could find no trace of cancer in his body. 14 years later, he's still alive and kicking!
I could go on and on, but will sum it all up by saying that Danielle has ushered in the presence of God wherever she's gone. In all the little podunk churches we've pastored, in the highschool she attended, during the outreach with YWAM, in her current ministry with the refugees--she has shone like a star in the universe, holding fast to the Word of Life.
I'm so proud of you Yellie! I see Jesus in you.
May this year be the most blessed yet!
(and don't worry, I'll delete this tomorrow :)

Fear can make you crazy

"For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of love, power, and a sound mind." 2 Timothy 1:7

So, I asked the Lord, how exactly does one give up fear? Fear is deeply ingrained in my nature--I relate to Much-Afraid more than any other literary character I've encountered. I used to think that maybe fearfulness was my "thorn in the flesh," a torment assigned to me by God to keep me closer to Him.
The verse in 2 Timothy seems to indicate that fear is never given or approved by God. It is the antithesis of love (agape), power (dunamis) and a sound mind--sanity. Fear is the opposite of faith, and without faith, we can never please God.
Just realizing that fear is from the enemy, not a part of me or a test from God, helps me push back from the table and refuse to partake of its poison. Just as I can choose to not to eat or drink certain things to the glory of God, so I can choose not to shrink back in fear and move forward in faith.
Anyway, I'm hoping and praying that's how it works. I'll keep you posted.

I'm giving up fear for Lent. I grew up Catholic, and Lent was always a huge emphasis. I usually gave up chocolate for the forty days, with pig-outs on Sundays.
One of my daughters felt prompted to give up alcohol for Lent, and it caused me to think about what the Lord would have me abstain from.
I felt like He said, "Give up your fear."
Not sure how to do that, but I'm giving it a try. My plan is to feed my soul on verses about faith and trust.
"Without faith, it is impossible to please Him." Heb. 11:6.