ANY DISTURBANCE or intruder sends them into a panic! Sheep—obviously created to illustrate the nature of people, can run haphazardly into real danger when fearful or anxious. Sheep will not lie down unless they feel secure any more than people will peacefully rest in a big storm.

We experienced storms while living in the Pacific Northwest, but none compared to the faith-testing storms that eventually blew away everything we held dear and familiar. In that process, our small church in Seattle Microsoft country struggled and closed. That put us out of ministry and past our prime for the job market. Our last fledgling graduated and left the nest early because we had to sell our home. A sales job kept us on the road and motels became a new normal. We felt scattered—separated from our children, homeless, and without purpose. I identified with those fearful, nervous sheep. Day after day the future remained hidden with no assurance other than God’s promised presence. He made us “lie down,” made us have to wait… and in our waiting… He fed us. It took time to realize His intentions—simply to rest in Him, simply to trust Him with all our hearts and not lean to our own “sheeple” understanding.

The Prophet Ezekiel saw Israel scattered all over the earth like sheep. Yet God promised to shepherd and gather them back to settle securely into the land promised to their forefathers. Our Shepherd eventually brought us into a new land as well. We moved and settled into Alaska where we enjoyed the security of a good job, new friends, our children, grandchildren, and a new ministry identity.

Did I then shift my security from Christ alone to earthly success and material abundance? The panic I experienced when those earthly securities were threatened, proved I did indeed. Worst case scenarios plagued my imagination and I devised all kinds of ideas and plans to provide for ourselves. Then my Shepherd made me lie down; His still small voice breathed courage and hope into my heart once again.

Of course, God must use something to draw us back to Himself, something to make us aware of our complete inability to remain self-sufficient. Therefore, all the circumstances of our lives work together for that very purpose. Jesus not only shepherds us, but as the true Vine, He also sustains us. So we move from being stupid, frightened sheep to grape racks drawing nourishment from that Vine. That way the fruit of God’s Holy Spirit flows through us to encourage and strengthen others—making us interdependent together with them—again God’s intention.

How does a sheep morph into a branch? Why does God mix metaphors like that? Maybe because being “born-again” doesn’t just fix up the old, it makes us into something entirely different. Paul tells us, “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new (2Co 5:17). This “new creation” rests in the peace and safety of secure attachment to the Vine.

Storms still come to test and strengthen our faith, some unproductive branches must be pruned—lifted up or cut off to conform us to the character of Jesus. God makes us lie down so we will rest from our own striving, our own self-protection, our own works. He wants us to embrace what He has already done for us, is doing in us, and will do through us.

Becoming aware of our limitations and helplessness in these storms make us lie down our self-sufficiency so we can rest in His power. Obscurity and futility make us lie down our self-worship so we and others will worship only Him. Life’s imperfections and flux make us lie down our self-righteousness so He can exchange our filthy rags for His own absolute purity. When we can no longer medicate our pain and conflict with self-gratification, we lay it down and God will make known to us the path of life and fill us with joy in His presence, with eternal pleasures at His right hand (Psa 16:11).

Deep breath. . . release. . . rest.

RESTING

Tonight my spirit
Is as a babe
Wrapped ‘round
In the warm, soft, white folds
Of His righteousness.
The everlasting arms
Hold me close
As His peace
Seeps into my conscious mind,
Lovingly, lulling me to sleep.
All the struggles and pains
Of the day
Are forgotten
As the joy of His love
Melts away everything
But the remembrance
Of His gentle care.
Through the night I rest,
So deeply embedded
In His love.

©MarJean S. Peters

Hunger gnawed as I attempted to shed a few pounds instead of gaining them during weeks of inactivity in motels. My eyes scanned the room—scratched nightstands held orange, sixties-something lamps obliging both sides of the bed. As I wrote, I leaned against a faded orange vinyl headboard facing an intrusive television hulking upon a dark bureau. Two vinyl chairs addressed a small, scuffed table near an ironing board that waited against a blank wall for my husband’s white shirts. I no longer smelled the old motel odor that greeted us when we first arrived because we had since amalgamated with it. Engines rumbled outside and traffic lights flashed. Airplanes roared overhead and commercial buildings broke the horizon.

I shall not want? But, I DID want! I wanted a steak dinner with dessert. I wanted my own beautiful home—a two-story complete with guest rooms and a fireplace. I wanted a home near our children, grandchildren, friends, and relatives. I wanted my husband home in the evenings, content in his work and ministry. I wanted to write books and publish them. I did NOT want to live in motels, my husband’s on-the-road job, an empty nest, my children 2,000 miles away, lack of purpose, ministry, a church home, homelessness, or loneliness.

I stood before the Shepherd of life and poured out all my wants to Him. Brokenly, I released them one by one. I had to acknowledge Him as God, that He is love, and He is wise. A small child’s rendition of “The Lord is my shepherd, that’s all I want” came to mind and I yearned for the faith of a child—so completely satisfied in Him that I too could misquote this verse and say, “You are all I want.”

In this quietness, with no one to talk to but the Lord, He unexpectedly fed my soul. I began to write my way through the twenty-third Psalm day after day—there in that smelly, ugly, lonely, and painful place. He met me there and breathed life into each word, each phrase until I no longer noticed my physical surroundings or focused on our life changes. His words so delighted my soul that He became enough, more than enough for all my wanting.

Over the years, God not only continued as the object and provision of all my wanting, but I enjoyed steak dinners on occasion, came to own a beautiful, two-story home complete with three guest rooms, a fireplace and woodstove, all near all our children and grandchildren. He provided friends and family, a church, a ministry, and many evenings with my husband. I’m still writing and just celebrated ten years of publishing our mission’s Courage for Bush Ministry Women magazine.

The point being: He is enough without all the rest of the stuff. But once we find the real thing in our relationship with Him, He often lavishes us with the other things as well, just like Jesus said to us, “Seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well” (Matt 6:33).

PRIORITIES

I pray in bitterness of heart
For things I’ve prayed so long
And I wonder why I bother
When things keep going wrong.
Each idea, thing or person
I have clutched in fond embrace
Has faded, died or broken
Before my hopeful face.
And with each disappointment
A part of me has died.
The part that wants and wills and cries
When things are so denied.
I’ve thought and planned—imagined,
What life should hold for me,
Yet Proverbs says, man plans his course
But God says what shall be.
A God whose love is infinite,
Whose wisdom far exceeds
The thought or plan of finite man,
So helpless to succeed.
A God who asks that I would trust
His perfect love and grace
To guide my way, supply my need
Until I see His face.
And so I bow before You, LORD,
A child now weaned and still
Because I choose to put my trust
In the One who will fulfill.
The One who works all things for good
For those who love Him so,
Will bring His purposes to light
In those He calls to grow.
Have ideas, things or people,
Now lost from fond embrace,
Been dearer to my heart
Than the sweetness of Your face?
O LORD, please cleanse my heart,
My first love You shall stay.
Please give me eyes to find Your grace,
To walk the narrow way.
Perhaps my disappointments
Were meant to set me free
To love and trust an awesome God
And from living selfishly.
©—MarJean S. Peters

The council of the ungodly entices me. I consider the way of sinners. I’m offered a seat with the scornful. Clothed only in the thin filthy fleece of my own self-righteousness, I wander off into this darkness. Suddenly cold, frightened, and alone I bleat desperately into the night. Bleeding hands encircle and draw me out of a darkness that seeks to devour me.

Gloriously clothed in splendor and unapproachable light He reaches into my darkness. I shield my eyes and crumple before a cross that rises into the heavens. The cross dissolves into light and becomes a doorway through time and space. I find myself in the Holy of Holies. A river of blood washes me clean and I stand in the pure, white robe of His righteousness. His glory fills me with light through and through. He gathers me into His arms—now so clean and pure with nothing between my soul and the Savior…nothing. Here I rest.

I hear the pounding of His heart within me—through me. Like a light, His Voice moves through my mind and heart: “I AM.” With indescribable tenderness He speaks…not in sound, sight, or touch, yet He speaks into my heart. My Creator and Sustainer—Shepherd of my life, so gentle His love, yet terrible, powerful, and jealous!

Nothing compares to this security, significance, satisfaction, or sufficiency. How can I, creature of dust, even seek to love Him? Only because He loves through me and for me and I rest in what He has done and will do. Reconciled by His death, I live through His resurrection and exist for Him. I must decrease—He must increase. His breath of life flows into me and our hearts beat as one.

Day and night I delight to hear His voice and consider His words. My roots grow deep into the water of life and in season my branches bear fruit above. Even my leaves do not wither in the heat of day for His life flows through me with renewed courage and strength. I prosper only because I put my trust in Him.

The ungodly, however, will blow away like chaff in the wind. Therefore they will not be able to stand in the judgement or be included in the gathering of those washed in the blood of the Lamb. The Shepherd knows those who are His own purchased possession, but the ways of the ungodly will most certainly perish.

He has been my shepherd all my life to this day. Therefore, my spirit remains steady, my heart strong and pliable and I lack nothing. He will carry me forever. He hears me, Shepherd of my heart, who sits enthroned between the cherubim and listens to my prayers.

He tenderly cares for His own. He gathers us into His arms and carries us close to His heart; He gently leads those that have young. Yet, He scattered Israel because they forsook Him for other gods. But He gathers them again and will watch over His flock. We too scatter to our own destruction, but He searches for the lost and brings back the strays. He binds up the injured and strengthens the weak, but the self-gratifying, self-righteous, self-worshipping, and self-sufficient He will destroy. He shepherds us with justice.

He will stand despite all resistance and shepherd His flock. On that Day He will save those who trust in Him as a shepherd saves his flock. We will sparkle in His hand like jewels in a crown. The Good Shepherd lays down His life for His sheep. He knows His sheep and His sheep know Him, hear His voice, and follow Him. He brought us into His sheep pen through the blood of His eternal covenant brought back from the dead our Lord Jesus, that great Shepherd of the sheep.

We were all like sheep going astray, but now we have returned to the Shepherd and Overseer of our souls. When the Chief Shepherd appears, we will receive the crown of glory that will never fade away. The Lamb at the center of the throne will ever be our shepherd; He will lead us to springs of living water, and God will wipe away every tear from our eyes.

(Psa 1; Gen 48:15; Gen 49:24; Psa 23:1; Psa 28:9; Psa 80:1; Isa 40:11; Jer 31:10; Eze 34:5; Eze 34:8; Eze 34:16; Mic 5:4; Zec 9:16; Jhn 10:11; Jhn 10:14; Jhn 10:16; Heb 13:20; 1Pe 2:25; 1Pe 5:4; Rev 7:17 personalized)

I CLOSE MY EYES. . . AND SEE BILLIONS OF STARS —galaxy after galaxy swirling to the edge of the universe and perhaps universe after universe stretching on and on into endless and unfathomable space. A Voice reverberates and echoes through those light years of space and eternity. Like the sound of many waters He cries out: “I AM! I AM! I AM!”

What fool refuses to acknowledge His Voice? What prideful fears will not risk the choice to believe? The great heart of the Almighty cries out His existence to all creation. Yet, we go our way ignoring the Voice. So preoccupied with the idols of our own making that we will not listen. It is His face, His hands, His form in the starry sky, in the brilliant hues of the sunset, in the early morning dawn. He glistens in the dew. His magnificence is reflected in the tranquil mountain lake. We see Him in the snow-capped mountains and in the lush green valleys. He brushes our faces in the wind, the rain, and rays of sun.

“I AM! I AM! I AM!” is written across the blazing sky, and in the desert sand, and upon every hill and in every blossom and every creature that breathes upon the face of the whole earth. He is the indescribable One who dwells in unapproachable light. Yet, He came to us in the form of a servant—becoming like us so we could know and experience His existence with us. He cries out over every tribe and nation, every city, every home and single person: “I AM! I AM! I AM!

I believe! By His power and grace He awakens our spirits to His existence and loving presence to worship Him. As endless as space and eternity, our gratitude will go on and on and on!

PRAYER FOR LOST LAMBS

My Lord and my God, I come to Your throne
Rejoicing to think that You call us Your own.
Yet I grieve o’er the willful, proud heart of man,
So unyielding to You and Your pierced, guiding hand.

If only we knew the deep love and the grace,
That waits—even longs to bless each one’s place
Far beyond every thought or what we could seek,
We never would plant our two stubborn feet,
Or ever would say, “I won’t!” or cry, “No!”
As such naughty children who so foolishly go.

We think it is best if we choose our own way,
So we follow the voices that lead us astray,
And fall into thickets of invulnerable inclusions,
Thinking we’re safe from life’s painful intrusions.

We hide in these places where ol’e Darkness reigns.
We feel safe but we’re bound by sharp, thorny chains,
And exist in these hedges of our willful creation,
Pulling ourselves into dark isolation.
How then can You reach us? The devil has won!
His deceptions have turned us away from God’s Son.

My child, My child, do not now despair,
I’m the God of all hope for each captive there.
What I’ve begun I will finish with time.
My name is Redeemer and the victory is Mine!

The love of the Father is pursuing each hour,
As I seek and I save from deception’s power.
Those who were bought by My blood are secure,
And will be presented as faultless and pure.
For no thickets can seize and no thorns can withstand
The Shepherd who seeks that bleating lost lamb.

(© 9/1999 MarJean S. Peters)

Jesus replies to the Pharisees: “If I am casting out demons by the Spirit of God, then the Kingdom of God has arrived among you. For who is powerful enough to enter the house of a strong man like Satan and plunder his goods? Only someone even stronger—someone who could tie him up and then plunder his house.” (His Story NLT p86,87)

JAGGED SNOW-CLAD PEAKS catch the sun’s brilliance and I marvel once again at God’s mastery in this forgotten, frozen wilderness. Each corner we turn reveals another mountain, another breathtaking view as we drive from Kenai to Anchorage. I’m still mindful of many flights over rugged mountain ranges, across vast tundra and snaking rivers on trips to Alaskan villages, and I’m awestruck by our smallness within God’s greatness!

Another landscape, just as real and just as daunting, stretches before each of us in this New Year. A rugged and dangerous wilderness awaits our footsteps and we catch our breath before entering the unknown. Does illness, injury, harm, loss, change, even death await us in this New Year?

What about the joys, victories, and delights just around the corner? What grace shall we discover? How will God reveal Himself to us this year? What answers to prayer will we see or become a part of? What lessons will we learn and how much closer will Jesus draw us to Himself through them?

The wisest of men once said, “Since no one knows the future, who can tell someone else what is to come?” Ecc 8:7. Though we cannot know what 2016 will hold, we do know God promised never leave or forsake us (Heb 13:5). We do know He promised to continue the work He began in us and to complete it (Phl 1:6). He also promised to present us before His glorious presence without fault and with great joy! (Jde 1:24). We do know that all things work together for good for those who love God and are called according to His purpose—to conform us to the beautiful image of His Son! (Rom 12:28). We also know He already took our punishment for past, present, and future sins.

All these things we know. We also know God allows us to go through tough stuff. I don’t think God runs a generational welfare system. I’ve heard the phrase, “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” That may be true, but I think tough faith-tests make us realize our utter weakness and inability to do anything worthwhile outside the power of Christ within us (2Co 12:10).

What if God leaves us here on earth, not just to refine and sanctify us, but to reveal Himself to us and to others through our trials? How else can we come to experience and know His love, grace, mercy, and power?

What if God desires a relationship with us more than He wants our performance? Maybe God is not half as interested in how we use our gifts to serve Him as He is about how deeply and personally we know Him and love Him.

What if our walk with Him is not as much about head knowledge as it is about that knowledge being tested and tried?

What if experiencing God is not always about feelings? Sometimes we don’t feel God and must choose to believe by faith that He loves us, cares for us, and holds us close to His heart.

What if faith is the key to know and experience God? Even Abraham had to act on His faith when he offered Isaac. Hebrews certainly provides a picture of people who kept faith even though they never saw God deliver them from their trials. I’m always rather stunned when I read, All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance, admitting that they were foreigners and strangers on earth. People who say such things show that they are looking for a country of their own… they were longing for a better country—a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them (Heb. 11:13-16).

What if God designed and created His kids for a yet hidden, eternal purpose? If so, we must trust Him with all our hearts and not lean to our own understanding (Prov 3:5-6). He will direct our paths; He will abide with us; He will not leave or forsake us. He purposes good for those who love Him and trust His all-sufficient grace.

What if jagged, mountainous challenges rise before us this year? Paul tells us to fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal (1Cor 4:18).

What if we persevere because we see Him who is invisible (Heb 11:27), catch the Son’s brilliance—the joy set before us (Heb 12:2), and marvel at God’s mastery in the seemingly treacherous places of our lives? Each corner we turn in this next year will reveal another challenge, but also another breathtaking view of God’s love and grace.

What if we choose to fix our eyes on the love and power of Jesus instead of focusing on fears of the unknown? God grants faith and courage to follow His lead with faithful endurance and perseverance — just for the asking.

From the large front window of the Cayucos beach house, we watched unusually large waves surge and crash before a strong wind along Morro Bay on October 29, 2015. My four bridesmaids and I gathered at this little California paradise for our first reunion after forty-six years—five Pacific College friends born in 1948 and three of us, originally from Canada, with consecutive birthdays in September. How many storms and waves roll through forty-six years? What happens to five young, idealistic, anticipatory, optimistic, and vivacious college friends over time? How often do friends gather for the first time after so many years to catch up on all the years they missed?

College put us all “in the same boat”—a microcosm with a life of its own. We went to the same classes, ate the same cafeteria food, slept in the same dorms, studied together, laughed and cried together. We all fell in and out of “love” and shared joys, losses, and laughter. By the time we all graduated, two of us had married our college sweethearts, another married soon afterward, and two others launched careers before marriage. Within a few more years, three of us started our families. In time. . . all of us drifted apart, each paddling our own canoe on divinely charted seas. Four remained in California and crossed paths from time to time. My gypsy ministry life-style isolated me from my friends as I moved around the Pacific Northwest, Canada, Alaska, and back to Washington.

We missed sharing the joys and challenges of motherhood, watching our babies grow up, living with teenagers, and celebrating their successes. We missed sharing our career accomplishments, struggles, and heartaches. We all moved in and out of other people’s lives and built new relationships. Our students moved on and we retired. Our children grew up, left the nest, and we became grandparents.

One day, after so many years and events passed by, three of us amazingly reconnected on Facebook. When I looked through old photographs, remembered, and posted college memories, I realized those college years were the best relational days of my life. I also realized that I actually had a life before I married, had children, or grandchildren. Those wonderful blessings demanded so much of my time, attention, and energy that my early years drifted into the archives of distant memories—a forgotten life. Not that I didn’t have a life later, but not one of my children or seventeen grandchildren even existed when I went horseback riding, engaged in drama and musical performances, went on choir tours or sang my way through Europe with a concert choir.

But that was only my life. Five stories played out over all those years. Five women paddled five different canoes and came back together after forty-six years to reconnect, remember, and revive relationships. We hugged, laughed, reminisced, cried, remembered, shared our stories and our hearts. We listened, ate, shopped, took pictures, looked at pictures, thanked God, and offered words of encouragement and endearment.

We noted obvious physical changes, which you can imagine, but probably shouldn’t try. Arthritis, fibromyalgia, migraines, tremors, allergies, food intolerances, hearing loss, and general body aches and pains mocked youth’s deception that life goes on forever. However, we had enough motivation and energy to go shopping around Morrow Bay. We missed our naps and stayed up until midnight both nights, but arose to greet the morning with smiles and hugs.

What drew us back together after so many years? Why was it worth the travel and expense and time in our still active lives? Maybe because we could still remember a time in life before we aged, before the disillusionments and heartaches and losses and disappointments. Maybe we wanted to activate our selective memories of those college days without the pressure of papers due, late study hours, and cramming for tests. Maybe we could meet and just remember what it was like to be together as friends—young, innocent, naive, immature, idealistic. Maybe we could re-enter the time before our ideals and dreams were broken—and still giggle over so many silly things. Maybe we could somehow catch up on the years we missed of each others lives and stories.

Our reunion came just three years before we all turn seventy. Over time we all grew and learned and matured through the storms and crashing waves of life. Each of us tasted grief, loss, heartache, pain, and sadness, as well as joy, victory, redemption, healing, and acceptance. We didn’t walk on the beach together, but for those three days we covered a life-time—the peak of youth to post retirement. I missed the sunset on our last evening because we still were so busy talking over dinner at Taco Temple when the sun sent its last glorious beams over the bay. However, I did not miss the proverbial sunset with a glory that comes when we still celebrate one another after a life-time.

We lingered longer than planned when it came time to leave. We hugged goodbye. Tears of joy filled my heart and I felt renewed, loved, valued, and glad. When we first planned our reunion, our emails reflected the insecurities of not quite measuring up—desires to lose weight before seeing one another, choosing the “right” and most flattering clothing to pack. We actually discussed bringing swim suits before one e-mailed, “Please don’t!” and we could laugh because we knew. . . . After hours of sharing our hearts with one another, those anxieties dissipated and outward appearance and performance simply didn’t matter. We each felt loved and appreciated for who we are and for who we are not.

God made us for relationship. When all else is stripped away—health, strength, youth, appearances, success, achievement, ambition, talents, and even motivation, what is left? Only God, His Word, and people are eternal. How important then, in this temporary life, to spend our time, energy, and resources to cultivate that which lasts! When we come to the end of the day and the sun begins to set, when all is said and done …these three remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love. 1 Cor. 13:13

As for growing old. . . well, there also remains sweet and enduring encouragement: Therefore, we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. 2 Cor. 4:16-18

Thank you, my dearest friends, for all you did to make our weekend together all that it could be, more than I could even have imagined! You are my treasures. . . forever!

I was miserable, often angry, and vulnerable to temptation. Acceptance from my classmates was more important to me than identifying too closely with being “religious,” even though I had asked Jesus into my heart as a child. Then there was the night of the youth rally. The Holy Spirit struck my conscience but I was too prideful to go forward. The appeal ended. Suddenly a greater fear tore at my heart and I asked God to give me another chance.

Another time came and a number of my classmates were again in the audience. With sweating palms and pounding heart I stood to make my profession clear. Suddenly it didn’t matter who was there; I only knew deep inside that Jesus wanted ALL of me. That night the attitude of my heart and the direction of my life were altered. He took me, cleansed me and began to transform me. The power of His Holy Spirit brought changes in my attitudes and actions that my family and friends noticed. Instead of caring what others thought of me, I began to care for others and about their relationship with God.

Many years have come and gone since then. The process of learning to know God, love Him and make Him LORD and Master of my life is still in process and I have grown to want ALL of Him. One day when I see Him in all His magnificent glory, I pray He will not have to be ashamed of me. Such misery I cannot imagine. Though He set me in the right direction long ago, I find that every single day the choice remains before me to go my own way or to surrender to His Lordship. I bow before Him again today… Not my will…but Yours be done.

LORD GOD AND I

Alone we dance—
Lord God and I,
Our spirits circle lovingly.
He takes a step,
I follow near.
Alone we dance.
No one can know
The pain, the tears,
The loneliness we span
Between the stars
Through time and space,
Waltzing to eternal plan.
Alone we dance,
Our gazes meet,
We smile, we know,
We understand.
He winks, I cry…
And we embrace,
Creator and created—
Lord God and I.
What rhythm beat
From heaven to earth
On crimson feet for sin atone?
Alone He danced
Beneath a cross
From earth to heaven’s throne.
Triumphantly the dance moves on
And earthly visions fade
As in His arms
I’m held secure—
By the sacrifice He made.
Such music rolls
Through cosmic space
I cannot now describe
But swells of praise reverberate
Eternally transcribed.

—MarJean S. Peters

Dear ones,

Throughout the years, God gave me treasures, many of which remained locked in a treasure chest (file cabinet) waiting to find some illusive publisher. I didn’t even know about blogging then, but today I realized I can simply begin to lift these treasures out of antiquity and share them with you before I join The Dead Poet Society.

Jesus says in Matthew 13:52, “Therefore every teacher of the law who has become a disciple in the kingdom of heaven is like the owner of a house who brings out of his storeroom new treasures as well as old.” Though Jesus refers to Old Testament Treasures and New Testament Treasures, the principle follows that our past, present, and future story remain valuable in God’s scheme of things. Therefore, I too bring out treasures new and old with prayers that God will still and again use them to bless you as He used them to bless me.

My first treasure journals through the twenty-third Psalm–one word or phrase at a time. While I wait for God to amazingly redeem the Xanax story in my last post, I’m going to simply continue with the treasures He has already given to me and spread them over the weeks and months ahead.

STILL WATERS

Introduction

Psalm 23 became the backbone of my thoughts and prayers over a five-month period of transition and earthly insecurities. When I began writing and meditating on these principles we were living in motels. By the time I finished, God had carried us through to another time and place as only The Good Shepherd could do. The following pages transcribe my prayers to the Shepherd and His response to me as His lamb. Join me in exploring the depth and practicality of each phrase of this Psalm as its divine principles are interwoven throughout the inscribed poetry, prayers, and Scriptures.

May The Shepherd open the Scriptures to you and apply them to the circumstances of your life as He has so faithfully to mine. My prayers are with you. May the “Still Waters” you find in His Holy presence reflect all the majesty and beauty of the Christ Himself. Now may the grace of our LORD Jesus Christ be with your spirit and to all who love Him with an undying love.

DIMENSIONS

Time passes…
Two worlds collide:
Temporal world of touch and feel,
Eternal world—just as real.
And in between He crossed the line—
Eternal God to man
Who lives on temporal time…
They meet.
They glimpse Creator from afar
And though they see His door ajar
Between our worlds,
They arrogantly sulk…
They cannot reach Him.
But then His hands
Reach through, between,
To draw man near to the unseen,
His Spirit breathing life to those
Who humbly bow.
Not all desire to see God’s face,
But rush about at frantic pace
To build their house
On temporal sand
They think will stand.
O foolish man!
Time passes…
The prophet is not mocked.
Two world’s collide
With thunderous roar!
The temporal stops and is no more.
The house is gone
And men are lost
Because they never came across
The line.
Eternal world awaits response.
He stands between.
He is the cross.
With outstretched arms
He is The Way
Between the worlds
Of night and day…
Time passes….

—MarJean S. Peters

“The LORD. . . ” begins the journey so please track with me through the treasure chest. . .

As seeds fall from the stock and enter a dark place for a long time before emerging into the sunlight, so we also wait for the coming spring. Twenty months ago, during weeks of intense and unrelenting spiritual warfare, we prayed desperately for wisdom. Then in mid-April 2014, Conrad’s sister sent web videos about Xanax addiction and withdrawal, shocking us to our core! Xanax, pushed by “Big Pharma” to clueless doctors, is more addictive than heroin and will eventually destroy both mind and body! We realized my husband’s intense and debilitating “spiritual warfare” began in February when he cut back on this medication.

Our family doctors had prescribed Xanax for my husband’s chest pressure and a lesser amount for my Familial Tremors. We had absolutely no idea of the 186 possible (probable) side effects, the severity of the addiction, or the hell of withdrawal. We took a fraction of the prescription to sleep at night, accepting our dependance as diabetics need insulin. Not a big deal, or so we thought! We attributed the side-effects to normal aging (but strangely accelerated) and to accumulated stress of years in ministry.

After watching the videos, Conrad never took another Xanax! In intense torment he said, “I’m fighting for my life!” I had stopped Xanax in December after conferring with my naturopath and experienced acute anxiety, trembling, and increased muscle pain. We were in the middle of moving and I unpacked our entire house by myself with amazing drive and nervous energy. Conrad’s withdrawal was debilitating. He could not sleep or eat and lost twenty pounds over six weeks as noted in our family photo. We also learned that after the acute stage, the second stage can last from six to thirty-six months!

In his extreme agitation he sought counselors, prayer warriors, doctors, and had the elders pray over him. . . twice! We played Christian music, devoured the Scriptures, and prayed without ceasing. We already follow a healthy diet, walk a mile or two several times a week, and drink pro-biotic smoothies every morning. We asked God to search and know our hearts for any wicked way in us (and surely there is!). I e-mailed my cousin, a Christian Psychologist in LA, who said that although the enemy takes advantage, Conrad was experiencing typical drug-withdrawal symptoms.

Prayerful friends strongly suggested Conrad receive treatment at the Center for Professional Excellence in Nashville, Tennessee, something we could never afford. However, by God’s gracious provision, he left for Nashville on July 6 of 2014, just after our Peters’ reunion. We had no communication for eight weeks except one ten-minute phone call per week.

Thankfully, CPE carried him through the most intense time, giving me respite from his relentless agitation. What I’ve witnessed over these past twenty months can best be described as a drug-induced portal opened in his brain into the demonic world. The mental “hallucinations” are things demons would say, “You missed the grace of God,” “You will miss the Rapture,” “A Christian wouldn’t have these thoughts!” “You are going to hell!” However, every night the “portal” closes enough for us to pray together in faith and hope once again.

What value do the dark clouds of suffering play into our Christian world view? Why do we think our lives should only reflect the sunshine of upbeat, cheerful, abundant living? Why do we fall prey to the enemy’s lies that something is wrong with us because we struggle? How on earth will unbelievers be drawn to Christ if they see us struggle? So. . . in response, we begin to pretend, to stuff, or deny what we actually go through. What is the result of refusing to embrace our human suffering? Our spiritual life becomes plastic, which so disappoints truly hungry and thirsty seekers.

A seed pod falls to the ground, entombs beneath autumn rains, and suspends in winter’s freeze. When spring rains fall and sun warms the earth, that once lovely outer shell rots. Any self-righteousness, self-sufficiency, self-glory, or self-gratification we seek must also die. In God’s sweet but severe mercy, we find ourselves buried somewhere deep within a dark place—a place of suffering, a place where the endosperm can finally awaken, reach for the relational warmth of God’s Son, and become genuinely fruitful.

Peter exhorts us, Humble yourselves, therefore, under God’s mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time. Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you. Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. Resist him, standing firm in the faith, because you know that the family of believers throughout the world is undergoing the same kind of sufferings. And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast. To him be the power for ever and ever. Amen. 1Peter 5:6-11

Though still sixteen months short of the thirty-six month withdrawal time, Conrad seemed to turn a corner about three weeks ago. Though still present, the anxiety and anger over these unrelenting intrusive thoughts noticeably lessened and motivation and energy has increased. I cry out with the psalmist, I would have despaired unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; Be strong and let your heart take courage; Yes, wait for the Lord. Psa. 27:13-14 NASB

No longer writing from a historical script, I begin a blank page expecting God to redeem our lives. Track with me in the weeks and months ahead as God’s sovereign plan unfolds to overturn what the enemy meant for evil into our good, your encouragement, and God’s amazing glory!

Post Script
If you or anyone you know takes a Benzodiazepine. Please type these titles into your web browser for more information:
“Xanax – More addictive Than Heroin”.
“3 Gwen Olsen Personal Addiction”
“Ex Pharmaceutical Rep Speaks Out”
“Benzo Withdrawal Welcome to Hell Full.”

Chest pains led to a series of medical tests. Yet, after a clean bill of health, Conrad’s chest pressure continued. Our primary care physician prescribed three pills a day of something called Xanax. Conrad only took half of one to sleep better. He had already quit the anti-depressants prescribed at Link Care because they didn’t help and he didn’t like the way they made him feel. We weren’t connecting the dots between his increased anxiety involving the anti-depressant, nor the long-term withdrawal effects of the pain medications he had taken earlier.

A retired psychologist, turned pilot/airplane mechanic, came on staff with ABM and became a great encouragement to Conrad. He talked to us about stress accumulation. Just as beasts of burden can carry only so much before collapsing, humans also eventually break down with emotional burdens. Conrad inadvertently learned to “stuff” his emotions instead of “unloading” them. A pastor’s kid who became a pastor did not know how to open his heart for fear of rejection from people and perhaps subconsciously from God. Galatians 6:2 tells us to bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ. Debriefing or sharing our hearts in safe relationships is God’s way to “unload,” but we didn’t realize that vital heart-health necessity yet.

Recognizing his gift for public speaking, Cedar Avenue Baptist Church had licensed him to preach when he was only seventeen years old. His ability to easily engage with people and preach seemed a natural fit for the pastorate even though the rigors of seminary challenged his easy going personality. Conrad’s dad loved theology more than anything and used theologians as role models for Conrad to emulate. Then one infamous day, the suicide of his Greek language professor seriously rocked Conrad’s world. Other seminarians also set a high bar for someone who didn’t consider himself much of a student. A professional career normally defines identity, so when life circumstances drew a curtain on Conrad’s preaching career, his identity took a fatal hit, which in the very long run is a very good thing because God never meant for our performance to identify us. What happens when everything you ever thought you were, and everything your dad expected of you suddenly dematerializes? You honestly don’t know who the heck you are anymore!

The stresses of life also affected me. My hands and head began to tremor, and more so with each life change. Just before moving to Alaska, a neurologist diagnosed me with Familial Tremors. My mother and her mother had tremors. My doctor prescribed Xanax to reduce my tremors when I spoke or taught. I discovered half a Xanax also gave me a good night’s sleep. With my polio compromised nervous system, increasing tremors, aches, and pains, insomnia was an issue.

Though we loved working with Jonathan and the team, we felt our energy level waning. In the meantime Joel and Bryan asked for transfers from Coffman Engineering in Anchorage to Spokane, Washington. Both families moved and our close knit family began unraveling. We were there for each of the twelve Alaskan-born grandchildren but could not adequately bond with the Spokane children at this distance.

With our accumulated stress, need to bond with our younger grandchildren, plus seemingly accelerated aging, we read the book, Necessary Endings by Henry Cloud. After much prayer and soul searching, we put our home on the market. Missionaries stayed with us that summer and asked us to let them know if we got an offer, which we did. They followed with their offer, which we accepted contingent on the sale of their house in Kodiak. With mixed emotions we packed everything except necessities and garage sale items. Time went by . . . nothing moved. A young missionary couple needed a place to stay for a few months. We had already sold our apartment couch, stove, and refrigerator, but quickly found replacements.

A whole year after we put our house on the market, the Kodiak house finally sold. Suddenly everything went into high gear. A new staff couple moved into our house until the new owners took possession. We left for Spokane May 6th, 2013, towing a utility trailer with everything needed to live in Joel’s walk-out basement. My mom had moved to heaven December 18, but with cremation, we could avoid winter travel and set her interment for Mothers’s Day, May 12, right when we passed through. Jonathan’s family joined us on their way up from deputation and Charissa did a surprise fly in. The painful reality of Mom’s passing sank in as I hugged the jar holding her ashes.

We traveled on to Spokane where Joel and Charissa’s families gave us a warm welcome, and settled into Joel’s walk-out basement with our own familiar stuff. We flew back to Kenai June 2nd to pack the rest of our belongings into a 20-foot connex, had it barged to Seattle and trucked to Spokane where we repacked it into storage until we found a home to buy.

Over the next eight months we exhausted our house search. Then one day we saw a house for sale only six blocks from Charissa and six houses from Joel. We had walked by this house numerous times, never imagining we could afford a house in this area. However, the Christian owner accepted our offer and we moved into our new home on January 25, 2014.

We remain on staff part time with Arctic Barnabas. I continue publishing the monthly women’s letter, as well as writing and editing other ABM publications as needed. Conrad connects with major donors to thank them for their contributions and support. We both attend missionary conferences, represented ABM to mission groups, as well as return to Alaska for Ministry Family Retreats, bush trips, and By Design presentations.

And so we live happily ever after . . . or not. . .