Revealing The Story

How Our Stories Fit Into THE Story

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Resurrected Dreams

Our guest author today writes from a far off place and shares some beauty of God’s character with us. She has asked to remain anonymous for safety reasons. May her bravery inspire you as it has us!


“I would like to begin this post by saying that I have requested to write anonymously. If you happen to know my family and recognize our story, I ask that you continue this by not mentioning names through social media. That being said, we live in an area where there are some serious threats to American teachers who reside here. Thank you!”

I was always a strange child. I was the 5 year old who poured over my grandfather’s National Geographic collection. I kept clippings and journals about the Gulf War and studied maps with a freakish obsession. I always knew that I would be an adventurer. Most of all, I knew that I wanted to make a difference in this world. As I matured, so did my lust for life and travel. Some people call it wanderlust.

As a 14-year-old child I traveled to Southern Mexico and spent a summer in the mountains outside Qaxaca. We did home stays and volunteered with kids. We felt very purposeful and I am sure we were. As an adult looking back, I remember more the hospitality and generosity of people who shared their homes and meals with us. They fed us their prized chicken, while their children ate leftover beans. We were there to help and so we built some huts, played with kids and got back on the plane with broken hearts and open eyes. I think many of you can relate to this sort of mission or service trip.

That trip was only the beginning for me. I went on through High School and College, a bit of an odd bird. I worked my tail off, saved every penny and got on a plane whenever the chance arose. You see, not only is travel addicting but so are the people. My heart is filled with images of grubby faced kids, crowded rooms and foreign welcomes in 25 different countries. If you had asked me five years ago if I would have imagined myself living where I do and truly experiencing the blessing of fulfilled dreams, you would have met a very different person.

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When I was little, I was a child on a mission. I fell in love with God in my teens and never looked back. To me, the only answer was for Him to marry my wanderlust with His Divine calling to “go to the ends of the earth”. I thought I wanted to be a linguist and work to translate God’s promise. I thought I would open orphanages and campaign the naïve of America to support my cause. So when I graduated from college, married the sweetest man on the planet and settled into the role of suburban pastor’s wife, you can see why I entered a foggy season. A year and a half later, the surprise of our daughter seemed to distance me even farther from my dreams. We were happy, don’t get me wrong. I was living in a dream, it just didn’t feel like my dream. What had happened to that girl who worked in orphanages, spoke up about human rights and rallied for change?

I will never forget a tear filled conversation with a wise friend over the head of my sleeping baby strapped to my chest, arms deep in a sink full of dishes. What happened to those dreams? My passport was empty, along with our bank account. Our time was dedicated to a church and what was I supposed to do about the ache in my soul? My dreams seemed long gone and I could not imagine what God could be doing with all of this. My gypsy heart was grounded and I had forgotten what it was like to wander through distant villages with a parade of dancing children in my wake.

Even deeper still were the painful doubts: Did I believe God cared about who I was? Didn’t He know that my heart was dying a slow death? Even worse still, did my husband know this and was I a fraud? The words uttered that day over dirty dishes and precious babies have become one of the most pivotal conversations in my life.

She took my soapy hands and said, “Sometimes dreams have to die in order to come back to life”.

I knew then that God is not only my ally but the champion of my cause. I may not see the fruit of these dreams for years to come, but buried deep beneath the ice pack, that seed is growing. Often that growth is timed perfectly with our travel companions. For me, that time of hibernation was the time my husband and I both needed to uncover our calling into education.

Five years later we have lived in Hawaii, Egypt and this summer will be moving to another sacred land. Our daughter has explored 8 countries and speaks Arabic with her best friends.

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We work hard, dream big and love intentionally. I may not be translating Bibles, running orphanages or campaigning for funding. However, my classroom is filled each day with precious children who in all likelihood will be leading this broken country. So when we wallow in doubt, fear or forget that God is the author of our faith, may we be reminded that He did not promise us a stroll in the park.

He promised that dreams will be broken, forgotten, buried… perfected. Resurrected.

When we rise out of burlap and ashes, may we be the men and women He has called us to be. Through that, the world will see His promise, joy and redemptive power. You see, dreams are not meant to chain us to our regrets. Dreams are the transfusion of God’s will, heart and vision into our lives. We have the honor of following that path, through both mud pits and mountains.

 

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Be still

 

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Since she was a little girl, Lisa Bryant has had huge heart for the nations. Recently this love has led her family to move overseas to work at an international school in Hong Kong.  Read about some of the things she is learning through the lens of a new perspective.


My family and I moved to Hong Kong in the summer of 2013. The first year we were here, we each had our own transitions to work through. I was praying to God every day but my prayers were repetitive.

“Oh, God, please help me!”

 

I felt like I was swimming in the midst of stormy waves and I was trying to keep my head above water. On every level, I was STRESSED OUT! However, God promises to always be with us even in the midst of the storm. He heard my cry and helped me survive each wave that I encountered. I would say that I was in a survival mode our first year that we lived abroad.

This year has been different. We are much more settled and are enjoying our jobs, school, friends and the beautiful place that we live in. I am working part-time and there are mornings where I am the only one at our home. I love sitting by the window, looking out at the water and spending quiet time with God.

As I have been spending time with Him, He has been speaking to my heart through Psalm 46:10, where He says “Be still and Know that I am God.” It is when we are quiet and listen, that we can hear the Holy Spirit. I have really enjoyed being still before Him with no distractions. But what does that verse look like when we are in the midst of a busy supermarket, a crowded subway, the times when we are going to be late for an appointment and we are stuck in traffic?

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It is in those moments, that God desires us to be still and know that He is God. In Hong Kong, there are millions of people. Many times when I am on the subway or in the supermarket, I am in a sea of people. People are talking on their phones, pushing other people so that they can all fit on the subway, and moving at a rapid pace. It can be quite exhausting. Many times, I have gotten angry, irritated, and impatient. I am focused on getting from point a to point b and getting there on time. My heart, mind, and thoughts are focused on me and my needs. But God is always at work and wants to speak, show, and teach us things in the those moments.

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As I was standing in line at the supermarket and I was in the line that took longer than the other lines around me, the Holy Spirit convicted my heart. I needed to slow down and realize that God was with me in that moment and listen to His voice. “What do you what to teach me?” “How do you want me to respond in this situation?” There may be times where He will open our eyes to someone that needs our help nearby or maybe He wants to us pray for the cashier who is helping us with our groceries. It is not by accident that we are in that particular place at that particular time.

Some days, I am exhausted by the time it is time to put my girls to bed. Sometimes, I can get in the routine of saying a quick prayer and quickly saying goodnight. I just want to go to bed and not spend any more energy relationally. However, one night, the Holy Spirit, spoke to my heart about slowing down and asking Him how He wanted to use me in that moment with my daughter.  I asked her some questions and we had a conversation that we both needed to have. God was there and He wanted me to be still before Him in that moment and listen to His voice.

In Colossians 3:17, it says,

“And in whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.”  Whatever, our day may look like, God is with us throughout it. He has given us that day for a reason. He has a purpose. Whether I am grocery shopping, going to the bank or putting my daughter to bed, I need to be asking Him how I can serve Him in those moments.  When we are focused on His presence and character our focus turns from ourselves to Him. He can then speak to our hearts in that moment, and we are able to see the situation and others from His perspective.hong kong 4

It is easier when we find a quiet place and are able to spend time alone to be still before God. But it is during those moments when the temptation is to be hurried, angry, irritated, or impatient that God desires that we “Be still” and know that He is God.

 -Lisa

 

Refuse to Pray for Normal

 

 

Amber is a dear friend who loves and wholeheartedly serves Jesus. She and her beautiful family followed His calling and left their home in Northern California to go care for the orphans and widows of Mexico. They founded S.O.W. Ministries(Serving Orphans & Widows Ministries) that cares for, loves, provides prayer & meets needs to make life better for those around them! She shares with us how God has revealed Himself to her as she walks the path He has her on.

 

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Do you ever find yourself praying for normal? I do.

After a really hectic busy month I find myself saying: “I can’t wait for everything to calm down and get back to normal.” Or, after a health scare, traveling, the holidays, or any trial… I find myself praying “Dear God, can’t my life just be normal!?!”

To be honest, I am not sure what I mean by ‘normal’. I’m probably not the best judge of normal. About 2 and half years ago my family packed up and moved to Mexico to volunteer at a free daycare. We have since volunteered at an orphanage and now are running our own non-profit/ministry that helps orphans and widows. NOTHING about the past 3 years of my life has been normal. However, in the past 3 years I have seen the hand of God move in MIGHTY ways!

I wouldn’t trade a day of His plan for my normal!

Last year was especially abnormal. In 2014: we moved 2 times, we had a flood in our kitchen, we lived for 6 weeks with no stove, oven or hot water, my then 9 year old son fell off his bike and had a severe skull fracture, our puppy broke her leg, we had 4 flat tires, our car broke down in Northern California and our 5 day trip turned into 21 days, and someone mysteriously ran into and knocked down a wall in our driveway. These are just the highlights of MANY crazy circumstances that occurred. To add to our chaos the Lord called us away from a ministry we were very comfortable in to a very BIG leap of faith! We never thought we would be serving in Mexico, let alone starting our own ministry. But one step at a time, this is where God has led us, and it is really remarkable to look back at how He provided and guided each step of the way!IMG_0682

If I’m really being honest, one of the biggest areas I find myself praying for normal is with/for my kids. My son Kyler is 10 and daughter Lexie is 8. They are total opposites! Kyler has never met a stranger and makes LOTS of friends everywhere we go. Lexie is very sweet, but is much happier to sing, draw, and play with babies than have actual contact with real people. Although she has her handful of friends, she prefers playing by herself.

My husband and I seem to have a recurring dialogue on long car rides about the lack of “normal” in their life. We homeschool so they don’t have a “normal” school, they don’t play “normal” organized team sports, they don’t have a “normal” routine-our schedule is CONSTANTLY changing as the needs of the people we help are. But when I look at the trade off of what they are getting in replacement of “normal” I see kids who are getting to live in and experience another culture. They meet kids from LOTS of different backgrounds at all the orphanages we work with and I can see that it is shaping them to be more compassionate and generous.  I see life skills developing in them that are incredible; the ability to problem solve, being attentive to others needs, translating, improvising… Most of all they are consistently put in a position to serve others and to be a part of ministry. They pray for others, serve others, give gifts, listen, and SEE God work miracles through provision, healing, and answered prayers. Their faith is not formed from what we teach them in Sunday school, but built on what they live out in their own version of “normal”.

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When I put things in perspective I realize that I would never replace Gods plan for my version of normal! So why do I sometimes ask for it or sometimes beg for it? Because I’m a work in progress. Because life is really hard sometimes. Because I look at other people that I consider to be “normal” and I only see the good things; the beautiful new house, the soccer star, the expensive family vacation where everyone is smiling… But that’s not normal. It’s just a pretty piece of their puzzle, it fits together with pieces of heart ache, frustration and fear just like mine. When we decided to move to Mexico 3 years ago my prayers were “Lord, provide a way! Give me the patience to wait when you close the door and the bold strength to walk through the door that you open.” That prayer hasn’t changed much. Each step the Lord is directing me further and further away from my normal, and closer and closer to Him. To a place of dependency, a place of deep faith, a place filled with the EXTRAORDINARY things of Jesus Christ!

My prayer for you dear friend is not for normal, but for God’s perfect, amazing, sometimes scary plan to unfold in miraculous ways! They say all miracles first start with big problems. I am grateful for the big problems that God has used in miraculous ways. I’m not saying we should pray for problems, but if you want to experience God’s miracles you will probably face some trials. Take heart my friend, He is faithful! His ways are beyond our comprehension.  His plan for you is not “normal”, it is extraordinary. You were not created to blend in, but you have been called out, to be set apart for GREAT things that He wants to do in and through you!

 

 

-Amber Owen

 

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Jasmine Underland  is a Seattle mom of 2 kids with another on the way!   She and her husband, Norm have supported each other through grad school, seminary, parenthood, various jobs and adventures in Thailand.  She writes candidly about finding purpose in whatever context we find ourselves.

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I was so encouraged and inspired by reading  this blog  a couple weeks ago when I read “Wherever He Places Us.” I could so relate. It was my story.

When I was in junior high I went to a missions conference and was inspired to be a missionary – but what I really think was that God was giving me a desire to love and help others.  In high school I went to Mexico every year to build houses and those years were life changing.  We thought ministry overseas was going to be our story.

Not too long ago,  Norm and I up and took our family to Thailand.  The idea was for him to teach at a school in the village where his Mom is from but the whole thing ended in disaster.  The kids and I got sick, we fought with his Mom and never even met with anyone at the school.  After two weeks we came back to Seattle.  We had been desperate for a change, we were barely making it here and felt like we weren’t doing anything “worth while”.  We rushed into things saying to ourselves, “hey why not?”…and it just didn’t work.

Now we’re back in Seattle and Norm is back on track to become a pastor (where we started years ago in college).  Over the years I have struggled with this feeling that I am not doing something “worth while.”   Over the years I’ve worked at various jobs.   Here in Seattle I worked as the Children’s Ministry Coordinator at our church for a short time but ended up feeling overwhelmed with a toddler and new baby. We recently moved to West Seattle for Norm to be closer to his job I was eventually hired to be an evening receptionist.

Sure, when I was in college taking Bible classes everyday it made sense that once I graduated I would be in full time ministry.  However it just doesn’t always work that way, whether you get a degree in a small Christian school or a large Liberal Arts school.  My husband got a degree in Pastoral Ministry and he still feels called to that (and is quite gifted as well), so he continues down the endless road of education and I completely support him.  For me though, I don’t necessarily feel “called” to have a particular position in a church somewhere or mission field over seas; so I have often wrestled with wondering if I am where I should be or doing what I should be.  Sure, I don’t want to work at the front desk of an office for the rest of my life but I have accepted that this is where I am now and wherever I am I can carry out God’s mission for my life, which is simply to love people.

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More so than where I’m working though I feel this conviction at home.  In about 4 months I will be a mother of 3!  I have come to really love and gain joy from caring for my family, cleaning our house, preparing meals.  I am far from perfect though.  I get really impatient at times and yell at my kids and then of course feel horrible.  I am learning more and more that if I can’t show grace, love and patience to my own children, how can I truly love the people in my community?  I believe that God is training me and shaping me through the small things I face each day.  How will I react when my 4 year old glares at me or screams at me?  What will I do when my 7 year old talks back or takes FOREVER just to put on his shoes in the morning?  When I have all these things plus a newborn to nurse and change…wow, what will life look like then?  This is a daily, no hourly struggle for me.  The first mission God has given me is to love Him with all my heart, then my husband and children, and then the world around me.

You might be in Egypt or Saudi Arabia or Honduras…or you might be in Seattle like me, struggling through each day and trying to keep your cool.  Wherever you are, live out your mission.  Love God, love people.  It sounds simple but is far from it.  That’s why we are also called to live in community, to encourage one another and do life TOGETHER.

-Jasmine

Wherever He Places Us

This post kicks off a series we are really excited about here at Revealing The Story!

We will be publishing a collection of posts that reveal some of what God is doing around the world. Posts that reveal what it looks like to live on mission.

There are many different definitions of mission. You’ll see that our definition is the daily choice to keep our eyes and hearts open to the practical and emotional needs of those around us. To try (as best we can) to imitate the incredible love our Jesus has to offer all people.

We hope you’ll be encouraged by this series.

 

IMG_1488I remember, quite vividly, when I told my mom that I thought God wanted me to be a missionary. She smiled encouragingly but jokingly told me she couldn’t bear the thought of me living so far away from her! I was only 8 after all. I can’t really fault her for feeling that way!

I had just finished reading an autobiography on Amy Carmichael, a missionary in India who rescued child slaves during the early 1900’s, and my young faith was inspired. A fire was lit in me to help others and I was passionate about this new direction. I was certain that this was my purpose.

Then the years piled up and that calling collected dust.

Like a book on a shelf, it was pushed behind other dreams and desires and was all but forgotten.IMG_1495

In college I went on a short term missions trip to Ecuador. My team spent 10 days going into schools to spend time with and speak value to the children there. We cared for them, played with them and told them of our belief in a Savior named Jesus.  While I was there whispers of that original purpose and dream began to swirl once again in my heart.  I considered joining a long term mission to serve the children of South America. Although the desire was there, something about it just didn’t ever fit. And so life marched on.

Years later when God called my husband and I, together into vocational ministry, I pulled that old dream off the dusty shelf and thought, “ah, here’s the purpose of that.” This must be what God had in mind when He spoke mission into my little girl heart.IMG_1492

But I still didn’t fully understand. Somehow, something unknown still didn’t quite fit.

It wasn’t until recently, after looking back on the years since we stepped out in that calling, that God revealed something to me. In the 7 years of full-time ministry we, as a couple, have had many different titles. Mike has directed Christian camp programs, done church relations, worked construction, cleaned pools, pastored, and dealt with unemployment.  Every step along the way we have followed Him. But when things get difficult, it’s so easy to feel like we are wandering.

This last weekend I attended the IF:gathering, a conference intended to gather and encourage women to fulfill God’s calling in their lives. It was amazing. As I sat there listening to the message about our command to “Be Strong and Courageous” {Joshua 1}, I wrestled. Wrestled to figure out what it is He really wants for my family.  In the midst of those tearful moments with my Shepherd, He reminded me I’ve always known the purpose He placed in me.  Our title and place make no difference…but our identity does.  Job or no job, my identity as a Christ-follower means I am called to live out this purpose of caring for anyone around me. That’s always been the point.  Mike and I are together on this ‘mission’ wherever He places us.  Living on mission doesn’t mean you have to move to South America, or get the perfect job in ministry…but to deeply care for people wherever He places you.  That is something He has been showing me over these last 7 tumultuous years, and this weekend reminded me of that simple truth.  I am called to live on mission.

It looks different than I thought. It’s not to a far off country like my 8 year old self envisioned. At least not right now. But when I allowed the Holy Spirit to pull that dream off the shelf again and turn it upside down…or right side up…I saw how it fit finally. I see now how despite my incomprehension, my Creator was always shaping me for this purpose.

IMG_1489 I am a follower of Christ, and He commissioned me, alongside you, to live on mission.  This mission doesn’t come with a title or a paycheck. It’s a freedom mission, a healing mission, a peace-giving mission. The mission is the same for all of us; to be a reflection of Jesus to a lost and hurting world. To care. To love. To pour out our lives.  The how and where of that is going to look different for all of us. Where and how are you on mission friends?

For me, right now, I’m on a mission to reflect Jesus in my home so that the sweet little hearts He placed there will know Him. I’m on a mission to offer healing to hurting hearts that cross my path, because I know what hurt feels like and I have found the antidote. I’m on mission to this city He has me in for as long as He wants me here. I probably will be fiercely opposed by our enemy. So will you.

It’s not going to be easy.  Completing a mission never is.

But it will be worth it.  Victory always is.

 

-Kallie

Full circle moments

10 years ago we moved to the area.  My husband and I had been here for just a few months and I was adjusting to all the “new.” We had left my community since childhood, our church, our jobs (I had been in my “sweet spot” teaching kindergarten), all of my family, and our friends to follow where we believed God was leading us.   The irony was that we had not been looking for change but upon learning that a new Christian university was coming to Northern California we were browsing the website and found a job description that described my husband to a “T” – it was all that Daniel loved wrapped up into one job. So he applied, and four months later we sold our house and left our community to move up north.

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I KNEW God was in all of this….but I. DID. NOT. LIKE IT!  I like my plans, and this certainly was not on my radar. I did not want to move from our first home while the paint was literally still  drying. I grieved leaving my friends, and job. The idea of  moving away from my parents & siblings ripped my heart out. I knew God was asking me to BELIEVE Him and go….but I was not happy about it.

I crossed my arms, cried, and threw a two-year old tantrum all… the… way!!

JUST when we were getting our feet on the ground we found out we were pregnant with our first child. This was very exciting news for us, however I found myself in a place where I had MUCH to believe God for… I had hopes to be a stay-at-home mom and we needed God to miraculously provide in order to live on one income. I was sad to leave my teaching career and  needed help to embrace this calling of motherhood.  Daniel and I needed friends and community more than we ever had! Would God really provide for us?

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Desperate for deep friendships, I joined a Bible study at a local church. It was a study on Beth Moore’s book, “Believing God” and we went through the book of Joshua.  That study had a profound impact on my life. I learned to pour out my heart to God, pray in faith, and ask Him to provide for my needs.  I asked God, “are you who say you are?”  and “will you do what you say you will do?”

And, friends, during that semester we saw God provide!!  There were random envelopes of money delivered on our doorstep for the exact amount we needed for an unpaid bill. He provided a way for me to work from home and teach piano lessons. Within a couple months I had a schedule full of students and our budget was met. We had a new baby and God provided other mommy friends quicker than I expected (He knew this extrovert would’ve NEVER made it without). And it all started with an honest question of belief….DID I BELIEVE GOD?

 

Fast forward ten years….

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We are at another crossroads. My husband is finishing his ph.d and we are anticipating change. We are being asked to be OPEN to anything. Once again, I’m not real eager for change. We love our community, our home, our jobs, our church, my amazing in-laws are here, we have dear friends… But we are being stirred that there is MORE.

Old fears return,  what if God doesn’t provide, what if we have to move and experience isolation and loneliness? How will our kids survive huge changes in their young lives? What if we’re abandoned?

Do I BELIEVE GOD?

And ya’ll…that question seems to be everywhere. This weekend I’m attending the IF:Gathering . And…guess what the theme is….? BELIEVE.

Guess what book of the Bible we’re studying? JOSHUA.

It’s a full circle moment. God is returning me to a place we’ve been before. To a lesson we  learned together years ago.

Do I believe He is who He says He is (the provider, rescuer, king, shepherd). Do I believe He will do what He says He will do?

I’m ten years older and unfortunately not too much more mature. But I can look back on the past ten years and see how believing God was an invitation to watch Him provide all along the way.  My hope is this time…when He reveals where and how and what is next for our family…that I won’t be a two year old throwing a tantrum.  Maybe I’ll at least respond with the faith of an 8 year old!

My hope is that when I come to this FULL CIRCLE MOMENT of trusting Him again, I will  simply BELIEVE.

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 ” ‘Jesus said, ‘Everything is possible for him who believes….’

  ‘I do believe, help me overcome my unbelief!’ ” Mark 9: 23

 

-Alyssa

 

 

Push

This weekend my little corner of the world was consumed by competitive soccer tryouts. We paused for the Super Bowl. But, really, it was all about youth soccer.

For me this weekend was a balance of looking forward and reflecting back. Looking forward to the best choice for each girl on my daughter’s soccer team (girls that fill our hearts with pride). Looking forward to my little man’s first year with a competitive club. Watching his warrior nature push him through tryouts and balance wonderfully with his tender side as he cheered for friends and nervously awaited his fate.

As I watched his warrior nature I couldn’t help but reflect upon my own.

I was a tender kid – intuitive, sensitive.

In elementary school we discovered I was really fast so in junior high I joined the track team. I loved practices but became  wrecked by panic attacks leading up to meets.

My mom helped me understand the anxiety. She taught me that although the fear is perfectly normal you don’t want to get trapped in it. She helped me develop some coping skills. She reminded me that Joshua and David, Old Testament warriors, battled fear. She gave me index cards with psalms and quotes of comfort.

Even though these tools helped, I was still scared. I stuck it out through the end of the season but couldn’t imagine choosing to compete after that.

A couple years later I fell in love with soccer and an inner warrior broke through the fear.

Have you ever heard the story about the 49er’s legendary wide receiver Jerry Rice running sprints up the ‘The Hill’? It’s a four-mile trail outside of San Francisco.

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I began to picture that trail as I embraced the warrior instinct – a deep push to get better, tougher, stronger, faster.  Push through pain. Push through weariness. Push against the odds. By the end of high school I was scouted for running, voted Most Athletic, and walked on to a college soccer team.

The warrior pushed me through college. Competing against girls who’d been on the field since they were four; whose parents had covered fourteen plus years of camps, trainers, tournaments, and clinics. Since I entered the sport late I had a lot of catching up to do.

I’d picture that trail when I ran before classes, hit the field after classes, the gym after dinner, and scrimmages at night. When the thermometer inched above 110 degrees but the training didn’t stop.

The warrior never stops.

Then college ended and I settled into a nice, suburban life. While this was a great fit for my sensitive side, the warrior raged for an outlet. Without the daily push my warrior nature turned to outlets that were thorny and unhealthy. So, I tried to suppress it.

One day I realized that I had been treating the warrior as if it were my pet – something to control and use as I please.

My warrior nature had been unlocked by sports but sports did not create it. No, it is a deep part of my personality, woven together by my Good Dad.

Remember that pesky Proverb 31 about the woman of noble character? Did you know that the Hebrew is more accurately translated woman of valor? My Good Dad loves His warrior girls!!

Slowly I learned how to surrender my warrior nature and view it’s use as an act of gratitude to the One who designed me. I learned how to serve him with my whole self.

This shift allowed me to discover new outlets. Actually, it allowed me to see the outlets he had placed right in front of me – practicing therapy, developing Mom to Mom and Soul Care, building a Center for Women.

Each a gift. A privilege to be a part of. Each a tremendous amount of work. My tender side helped me care for people. My warrior side helped me push through the odds.

 

If you’ve suppressed your warrior nature I want to encourage you to bring it out of hiding, place it before our Good Dad, and ask him how you can walk forward as a whole person. He made you. He wants to use you in mighty ways!

 

– Laura

 

 

 

But God

Affectionately termed Tigger by many of her friends, you might never guess that the high-energy, self-proclaimed OCDiva Carrie McChesney grew up in poverty, entered menopause in her twenties, and was told she’d never experience a successful pregnancy.  Find out how God met her in the story.

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I never thought I had a story. I was raised in a Christian household and accepted Jesus into my heart and life at the tender age of eight. I was a good kid, got good grades, had a good work ethic, and married a really nice Christian man.

So years ago when my husband and I took our first mission trip together to Uganda for three weeks, we were told that we should all be prepared to speak at some point. To possibly preach and to be able to give our testimony. We knew there would be outdoor crusade work as well as the other ministries we had come for, which included building projects and a VBS for kids. I secretly hoped that in a culture that still valued male leadership, I would be able to skate by helping out with the kids programs and building project and NOT have to speak.AV5A3999

On the over 20 hours of plane rides and lay overs to get to Uganda, I opened my journal and began to just write out my life. Searching and praying for God to help me find something to speak on. I poured through random scriptures and even did the dreaded ‘close my eyes and open the Bible’ to see if the Holy Spirit would lead me to a scripture passage to speak on.

As I wrote out my life, my story, it wasn’t that it didn’t have ups and downs. It wasn’t that I didn’t have any hardships that had been overcome. I had lived in a broken home, parents divorced, significant poverty, and the blending of families when both my mom and dad remarried respectively. I gained siblings, moved to a new town, was a total and complete nerd, and had weathered an abusive relationship prior to meeting my amazing husband. As I wrote through each of these experiences, my pen found the words “but God…..” making their way in and through each story.

My Parents divorced…BUT GOD used that to give me more family, and tender sibling bonds that I still have to this day.

I lived very much in poverty as a child….BUT GOD used that to teach me the value of things…and the lack of value in earthly things. In doing so, I still view my childhood with fond memories and a great respect for what my Mom had to go through raising us children alone.GetAttachment-1.aspx

I had my moment of rebellion just after High School, and dated an extremely abusive man, both verbally and physically. BUT GOD…used that to grow me closer to him. To lean on him to get out of that relationship, and to place higher standards in the men I would allow into my life. This led to God selecting the perfect husband for me.

I did end up “preaching” during a portion of the crusade that year in Uganda. I took the stage and said… “I’ve never felt like I had a huge story to tell…or a grand salvation experience to convey….BUT GOD!” I then shared each of the BUT GOD moments in my life. Following the crusade, I was crushed by wave after wave of women who had heard from God through my speaking. Who had their own BUT GOD moments….or were praying for their BUT GOD moment to come.

I was humbled and in awe of how our great God can use the seemingly mundane life to bring His story to life.

I still sit in awe of my not-so-difficult life. Not-so-difficult because my BUT GOD moments just seem to continue.

Enter Menopause at age 27…BUT GOD shows mercy and love and gives me a heart for the elderly through my own experiences figuring out medical issues.

Can’t have children of my own…BUT GOD provides through the amazing sacrifice of adoption, two beautiful boys whom we love and cherish.

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Multiple Job losses…BUT GOD provides in the lean times and blesses with jobs beyond our dreams.

I’ve learned that no matter what hardship is present, or lurking. What difficult time we are walking through or are headed into…there is a BUT GOD waiting to help us walk past it and into the future.

When you say you don’t know how, or what, or if…..just remember to end it with “…BUT GOD does, will, can.”

“Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think…” Eph. 3:20 ESV

 -Carrie

 

Messy Brushstrokes

IMG_1480I sat at my art easel the other day, brush full of paint and poised to place another stroke on my painting. But there was nothing more to add. It was finished. I placed my brush down and walked to the other side of the room. And turned. That’s my favorite moment. The one when I stand back and observe my finished painting. When all that I wanted to create from inside of me is finally out on the canvas, and I get to enjoy it. Gaze upon it and sigh that deep sigh.  Satisfaction. Joy.

I am an artist…although that’s a strange title for me to accept. I’ve always been creative, but it wasn’t until 2 years ago that I stumbled on a hidden talent and passion to paint wall art.IMG_1467

This passion was discovered when I wanted a particular style of art for my living room and couldn’t afford to buy it. So, in typical DIY form, I decided to try and make something similar myself. Grabbing my craft paint brush and some leftover clumpy paint I began to create. It was a surreal moment with God in which I believe He pulled back the curtain and showed me this part of myself I knew nothing about! To be completely honest, I was shocked.

When I paint, I feel I am walking in step with my Maker. I feel His joy as He watches me, His child, mimic my Heavenly Dad. And it’s through this new found expression that I discovered yet another glimpse of His ways and character.

 

He is the Great Artist. The First and the Last Artist.

You and I are His masterpiece. You.

All of creation and you.

I’ve painted a particular painting 4 times, and although they are all of the exact same object, they are all different. They are all separate creations that involved labor and time and care and love. The same is true of our Artist. He labors and cares and spends time with and loves each of His creations…not for their sameness, but for their individuality.

For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb.. -Psalm 139 :13

Something I have found in painting, is that there is so much power in perspective. It’s not unusual for me to be in the middle of a project, and feel discouraged by it. I typically start to believe that my artistic abilities have completely disappeared and that the painting is completely terrible! Until my husband comes into the room and reminds me to take a step back and look at it from the other side of the room. It NEVER fails to amaze me how much better it looks. Always. I cannot see the whole piece and it’s value when I’m inches from the brushstrokes. It always looks messy that close. It always seems like I have no idea what I’m doing!! But, when I step back, the brushstrokes meld into something good, something to be displayed.IMG_0937

The same is true of us. I am way too close to my circumstances to see anything but mess. And sometimes, when I can’t make sense of what He is ‘painting,’ I tell God about it…telling Him about the mess He’s making in this project called my life! He always  graciously reminds me that the Painting cannot tell the Artist how or what to paint. The Artist sees it differently. His perspective holds a promise that all the circumstances meld into something good, something to be displayed, something beautiful.

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 Recently, I delivered another painting of the California State Capitol to the Speaker of the State Assembly. As I walked in I felt God give me  a glimpse of His perspective. Two years ago I didn’t realize I could paint art, and here I was delivering my artwork for the fourth time to the state capitol! There have been many times over the last two years that I have deeply doubted my ability. I have grumbled about painting this building! I have even complained to God that this is messy and not what I had planned for my career! And then, He gave me a glimpse at what He’s painting, the doors He’s opening, the work He’s doing and I’m amazed again. This is evidence of the Master Artist in my life! I never would have even dreamed this path, this part of the artwork up!

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I never create a piece of art and then hang it in the back of a closet!  My clients that commission me do not hang their art pieces in hidden places. Rather, they display them in places where the art will be seen and enjoyed. As the artist, there is such great joy for me to watch my creation being displayed and praised.  Can you imagine how much more joy our Creator receives when you and I display what He has done in us?

Come and see the wonders of God; His acts for humanity are awe-inspiring. Psalm 66:5 

When we declare His goodness towards us, when we reveal the Artist’s signature on our lives, when we show how He made a painful scar into something divinely creative…When we display the GOOD work that He has started in us, I’m positive that He smiles. He sings over us. He enjoys.

I’m not always grateful in the moment for the ‘brushstrokes’ the Artist places on my story. There are trials  and suffering that seem messy and horrible to my human eyes. But there have also been glorious moments when I’ve glimpsed some of the beauty He’s already completed. I am a painting in progress and am learning to be content and hopeful as He paints.IMG_1472

And friends, someday, He will faithfully put that last brushstroke on you and say “Well done my good and faithful one.”

 

And you will be perfectly, stunningly, beautiful.

 

 

For I am confident of this very thing, that He who began a good work in you will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus.    

 —Philippians 1:6

 

-Kallie

 

The Storms of Life

Rocklin, CA was rocked in August of 2013 when Dr Peter Vellutini, a beloved veterinarian, suddenly, without explanation, became horribly ill. The community surrounding he and his wife, Ruth, watched and prayed… and waited. Many of you will remember regularly checking Facebook for updates (https://www.facebook.com/petervelluntiniupdates). And then time moved on. We invite you to journey back with us as we enter Ruth’s story.


If you had asked me to share my story a couple of years ago, it would have been quite different than what I count as most significant today.  God used a congenital heart defect to keep me trusting in Him throughout my life.  Valve surgery was inevitable, but the timing was elusive.  I fell in love with an amazing guy who was willing to take the chance in marrying me, knowing that it was unclear if I would be able to have children.  God did indeed bless us with children.  At the age of 33, with 2 children under the age of 3, I had that open heart surgery.

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I wrestled with “God’s perfect timing” but afterward I saw the blessing in the boys being too young to appreciate the gravity of the situation.  I naively thought we were going to get our “happily ever after” when our third son was born.

What I failed to recognize is that we probably won’t have “one big storm”, but should anticipate many storms through various seasons of life.

We would be wise to use the “sunny days” so to speak, to grow and strengthen our faith so we are more prepared to weather the storms of life. 

How do we do that?  By studying God’s Word and His promises, so we can have those truths firmly planted in our hearts when we get overwhelmed by our circumstances.  If we allow God to continue to work in our lives, He’ll keep growing us and deepening our character.  John Eldridge writes about how God has a unique love story to write in each of our lives.

I’m beginning to appreciate the fact that love stories have exciting times as well as heartache.

Let me tell you about the most recent chapter of my love story…..


 

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Summer 2013 ended abruptly for my family when my perfectly healthy husband suddenly became critically ill.

On August 1, 2013 Peter got up early and planned out his last big ride. He was training for The Mt. Shasta Summit Century, which was just three days away, so this was his last chance for a long ride before the big event – a 10,000 elevation change across a 100 mile path up Mt Shasta. Today’s ride would be about 35 miles. The final training ride went well and I was confident for Pete that he was prepared for his trip to Mt. Shasta.

On August 2nd Pete woke up with a strange headache and neck ache. He spent most of the day sleeping, and his symptoms gradually progressed to include tingling in his hands and feet, double vision and nausea with any movement. A phone call to the advice nurse and then later a doctor decided he had some sort of vertigo and it would be ok to sleep it off at home.

On August 3rd Pete could not bear weight and I drove him straight to the ER. This is how his horrific illness began.

His neurologic symptoms came on quickly and progressed rapidly.  Every test came back normal.  Within 24 hours he was intubated and in a deep sleep.  For 11 days I sat by his side in the ICU, unsure of what the future would hold and unaware that although he was unable to move or respond, he understood much of what was happening.

All we could do was pray and watch for signs of hope.

I counted 35 medical care providers on his team trying to diagnose him while providing “comfort care”.  No diagnosis meant no prognosis.

The doctors were baffled but I knew God was not.

I was being prepared for the likelihood of a tracheotomy when his signs of alertness began to improve.  He was extubated and the long road of rehabilitation began.  He spent 6 weeks in the hospital, 6 months on medical leave and completed countless hours of speech, physical and occupational therapy.   We did eventually get a diagnosis – Bickerstaff Brainstem Encephalitis, an extremely rare autoimmune response to a virus.

 

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As I drove back and forth from the hospital I gripped the steering wheel tight and tearfully poured my heart out to God.   Confessing my need for Him and declaring my trust in Him I returned to the ICU.  I began to see God work immediately.  First it was simply an old hymn He placed in my heart that first night driving Pete’s truck.  Coincidently, a remake of this song became popular on the radio and I heard it play frequently as I drove to and from the hospital.

As word got out, our community stepped up to support us in countless ways.  Every day I experienced God’s love and presence through tangible means.  Meals, childcare, house/yard work, financial support, letters of encouragement and most importantly, ongoing prayers.  The outpouring was overwhelming.

I believe that it was the faithful prayers of many that protected and sustained us and ultimately led to Pete’s full, miraculous recovery.

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Each day I held onto the biblical truths that were planted in my heart.  I meditated on Deuteronomy 31:18 :The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you.  He will never leave you nor forsake you.  Do not be afraid, do not be discouraged.” I studied Romans 5 and was reminded that suffering produces perseverance, perseverance, character; and character, hope (verse 4).

Sometimes, in pure exhaustion, I ‘d still get overwhelmed.  I remember one day in particular when I had a wave of anxiety over a stack of bills.  I called on dear friends to pray and shortly after there was a knock at my door.  My husband’s boss was there with a check from the donation fund he had started, and the amount was an exact dollar match to the bill I was faced with.  God was clearly at work!

God was being glorified and blessing me through the biggest trial of my life.

            Seasons of life come with storms.  We don’t get to choose the timing, how big the storm or how long it will last, nor can we predict how long it will take to recover. Why did we have to experience this trial?  Why did we receive blessing upon blessing?  Some people get stuck on the Why questions, to which there is no answer.  This is what I know to be true:  I am just an ordinary person but I’m loved by an Extraordinary God.  God understands our heartache through every kind of trial of life.  He experienced it first hand when he walked the earth as Jesus.  Every kind of illness, relational pain, and financial strain – our Heavenly Father is waiting for us to call on Him so he can be glorified and so He can bless his children.  He wants to sustain us through the storms of life.

– Ruth

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