The faith of a child

I just have to share this very cute conversation I had with Tyson (Scout's friend) recently. If you've been reading this blog for any length of time and have followed the saga of my spazzy little dog, you will recall that Scout has her very own four-year-old prayer warrior. Scout was feeling so chipper a few weeks ago, that we headed for Gresham and went on a walk with Tyson and Kate and their mom, Alyssa. Neither Alyssa nor I can recall the conversation verbatim, but it went something like this:
Me: "So Tyson, do you know why Scout is feeling so much better now?"
Tyson: Yes, because of me!
Alyssa: "Tyson, was it because of you or because of God answering your prayers that Scout got well?"
Tyson (he has to think about this for a second): "Well, God. But I prayed!"

I love it! Tyson got the connection between his prayers and God's answer--a correlation that I think we adults sometimes miss. We'd chalk Scout's improved health up to the prednisone, or the organic dog food I'm giving her, or just good luck. But not little ones--they get it!

So, thanks for your prayers, Tyson, and keep on praying! The vet told me yesterday that Scout will always have this "immune-mediated" condition and that she'll probably be on rounds of prednisone off and on for the rest of her life (I took her in because she experienced a relapse a few days ago. The vet put her back on a fairly high dose of pred again and she's doing fine now. I just have to start the weaning process all over again . . .)

Adventures with God

My day started with an adventure. My cell phone rang at 5:30 a.m. Sleep is still a precious commodity to me, so I grudgingly woke up enough to squint at my phone and see who was rude enough to call me at that hour. The called ID just said "private number," so I turned the phone off and tried to go back to sleep.
Two minutes later, on the other side of the room, Greg's phone came to life. Not a good sign. My adrenaline pumping, I made a dash through our dark room to answer it.
"Hello," I croaked.
"Hey Mom!" said the chipper voice on the other end. All of my daughters sound alike on the phone and my muzzy brain couldn't quite decipher which one was calling me at this ungodly hour. But her next words clued me in . . .
"It's me Candyce--in India!"

My brain kicked into low gear and we spent the next few minutes having a lovely chat. It always amazes me how clearly I can hear someone who is half the planet away. She was calling from Pune, hadn't gone back to the villages like she'd planned because of sickness.

"It's not malaria like I had in Africa, mom," Candyce assured me. "I just haven't been able to keep food down for the past 24 hours. No big deal."

Yeah, right. For her, though, the "big deal" was the deliverance her team had witnessed in a village they'd visited a week ago. A mixture of hinduism and witchcraft practiced there had opened the people up to demonic oppression and possession. But Candyce and her team saw first hand how the Spirit of the Lord can set the captives free.

Candyce described how she laid hands on one woman and began to pray in the name of Jesus. The woman began to convulse and then passed out! When she woke up, she was in her right mind and rejoicing in the Lord. Candyce told me about one woman who fell to the ground and started "slithering like a snake" while the team prayed for her--and was eventually set free from her torment!

Definitely not your typical prayer meeting!

Candyce also told me of their near arrest--how people from one village reported them for proselytizing and so the police met them at the next village and threatened to put them in jail if they preached the gospel there! How intense is that? Kind of like the book of Acts . . .

I shouldn't be surprised, though. Back when she was a small child--only about five or so--a very wise woman prayed over her. She prophesied, really, declaring that Candyce's strong will would be shaped and used by the Lord for His glory. That He would put on her the spirit of Paul the apostle . . . that He would give her a holy boldness and she would do great exploits in His Name . . .

That prayer--which brought me great comfort at the time (because Candyce was a VERY strong-willed child)--has given me great joy as I've witnessed its fulfillment in Candyce's life.

And I'm pretty sure her adventures in God have only just begun . . .

Intelligent Design?

Greg and I watched an alarming movie last night. Expelled: No Intelligence Allowed, a documentary by actor/writer Ben Stein, investigates the scientific community's refusal to consider Intelligent Design (ID) as one of the possible origins of life.

Stein leaves no stone unturned as he travels around the world to uncover the true motive behind this movement to separate faith from science. He interviews professionals, from doctors to journalists to scientists, who have lost their careers and reputations because they publicly mentioned ID. He visited death camps in Germany to explore the connection between Darwinism and Hitler's regime--how "survival of the fittest" led to the culling of the weak and imperfect in an attempt to genetically engineer a superior race.

When Stein repeatedly asked those who supported Darwinsism to explain how life began, their answers ranged from inane to bizarre. One scientist explained that one possibility is that life "rode in on the backs of crystals." Another, a well-known atheist, postulated that a superior race from another galaxy long ago and far away could have "seeded" life on the earth. Stein kept a straight face as he pointed out that the avowed atheist believed in Intelligent Design after all. He just chose to believe that aliens were the designers instead of God.

It seems to me there's a greater leap of faith required to believe that aliens created life on earth than to trust in a loving Creator God . . .

New business, old books

So, I'm having too much fun with this online business thing. Strantiques is doing quite well and I just started another shop. It's called SparrowTracks and it features handmade journals from recycled books. Most of the paper I use comes from recycled (from thrift stores and garage sales) items.

Most are religious themed, but there are children's and other random titles.

I love old books and have been collecting them for years. But one day I realized that I'll NEVER read them--it's really the covers and the general look (and smell) that I'm crazy about. I'm also addicted to journaling, so I put two of my favorite things together and--voila'--recycled journals!

I'm really in need of old hymnals, so if you have any to donate I'll make you your very own personalized journal.

Visit SparrowTracks at: www.sparrowtracks.etsy.com

Search for the church

I'm reading through the book of Acts these days, scribbling in my journal any mention or description of the early church.

This exercise has been very enlightening.

What precipitated this investigation? I've been reading some intriguing books lately (Organic Church by Neil Cole and So You Don't Want to Go to Church Anymore by Jake Colsen) and most of them hold out unconventional views of the Body of Christ. It has been my practice over the years to take all interesting ideas and hold them next to scriptural truths to see if there's a match.

Some tidbits I've uncovered in Acts: The early church met daily and did not have a set time or place to convene. They shared all their worldly goods with each other. The leaders were simple and uneducated men, who did not cease preaching and teaching Jesus. They considered suffering for the sake of Christ a privilege. The early believers shared a lot of meals together and were generally a happy bunch (although there was some whining in chapter 6).

I've only read through the sixth chapter, but it's been a challenge to view the church through fresh, non-traditional eyes.

I think it's pretty intriguing that Jesus Himself didn't say much about His church--His Bride--except for the important fact that He is the One who will build it. His church cannot be built by human hands.

That's one of the reasons I love the name of the fellowship we "break bread" with now: Cornerstone. In Acts 4:11, Peter quotes this verse to his hearers, "The stone which you builders rejected has become the Cornerstone . . ."

So, Jesus is the architect and the foundation of the church He is building. How cool is that? Kind of takes the pressure off us, if you think about it. Maybe that's why the early believers spent so much time hanging out together, breaking bread with "gladness and simplicity of heart."

So, who wants to come over for dinner Thursday night? You bring the bread, and we'll do the rest . . .

band of gypsies

Greg and I saw the movie "Bucket List" last night and really enjoyed it. It's a sweet flick about two old guys who discover they are dying--and then set out to experience life together before they kick the bucket. They do a bit of traveling--from a safari in Africa, to the Taj Mahal and then the Great Wall of China. As I was enjoying the spectacular sights on the big screen, I realized that my daughters will visit each of those continents this spring/summer!

Actually, Candyce is already in India, leading a two-month long outreach with a mission organization. She left me a message on Facebook just this morning, assuring me she was alive and well and enjoying the abundance of curry! Candyce and her team of 12 students will be working with indigenous believers and taking the gospel to several towns and villages in India (I can't be more specific because of security issues).

The day after Candyce returns, Danielle and Krispin leave for China. Krispy will show Danielle where he grew up and then they'll visit his folks in southern China and then explore Hong Kong (Danielle is really hoping to meet Jackie Pullinger while they are in HK). They'll traipse around Asia for two months and return to Oregon the day AFTER Lindsay leaves for Africa.

Yep, she's going back. But to Kenya this time, with another mission group. Not sure of all the details at this point, but she'll be doing something with children and soccer teams. She's taking her full two weeks of vacation and investing her life in an eternal cause as she shares the love of Christ with African orphans.

So where am I going this summer? Right back to the spot my heart calls home--to a tiny little village on the Yukon river. I don't need a passport to get there--just a heart that's willing to be broken for the things that break God's.

If you happen to think of us in the coming months--the fabulous, flying Strannigan family--please say a little prayer for us! I have no idea when our little band of gypsies will all be together in the same place again!