LIFE comes riddled with fall-downs and get-ups, bumps and bruises, fears and tears. Each road challenges us in every way. Yet, the Holy Spirit woos and guides us through each precarious step in this dark world until we see Jesus. Until then, we only catch glimpses of His glory.

I noted in Exodus that God promised to show Israel His glory. Only a short time after leaving Egypt, they grumbled, “If only we had died by the Lord’s hand in Egypt!… You have brought us out into the desert to starve this entire assembly to death” (Exodus 16:3). God responded, “In the morning you will see the glory of the Lord… then you will know that I am the Lord your God” (Exodus 16:7,12). The next morning “when the dew was gone, thin flakes like frost on the ground appeared on the desert floor” (Exodus 16:14).

I remember grumbling one afternoon in my college library when I felt frustrated, angry, and needed to blow my stack! But, one cannot do that in a college library. So… I took my notebook and pen and began to write… to the Lord. Words flowed out of my heart and onto the paper in a torrent of hurt and desperation. On and on the words streamed until only a trickle coursed to the Throne of Grace. While I wrote, He granted bread from heaven—a glimpse of His glory to quiet my heart with His presence, love, and understanding.

Over the last fifty years, I found that sweet manna available to me over and over again. My relational journey with Jesus lies recorded in stacks of wire-bound notebooks. Yet, far more important, His words flow from the Scriptures into the pages of my prayer/Bible journals and mingle with my thoughts, feelings, desires, needs, and longings. His words change my attitudes, values, focus, and priorities.

 

It occurred to me one day how a blind person learns to love someone they cannot see. Time spent together familiarizes the sound of their voice, the fragrance of their hair, and the touch of their hands. They learn to “see” with their other senses. Jesus told Thomas, “Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed” (John 20:29). Moses “persevered because he saw him who is invisible. By faith…” (Hebrews 11:27-28). Yes, we walk by faith through this dark earth place, yet see the invisible One through spiritual senses. He reveals Himself to us through His amazing creation and infallible Word. When we withdraw ourselves from earthly distractions and silence our noisy hearts, we recognize His still small voice.

The conviction and comfort of His Holy Spirit cleanses and empowers us for this journey. The sweet taste of His Word and pure fragrance of His presence permeates our lives “among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing” (2Corinthians 2:15). We know Him because we converse, cry, and laugh together. Sometimes we just sit in silence, aware of each other’s presence. When we stand before Him face-to-face, the familiarity of our relationship will banish all fear.

I recently watched a video of a bride sing a song by Brendan Graham to her bridegroom. I sing it to my heavenly bridegroom:

When I am down, and, oh, my soul, so weary

When troubles come, and my heart burdened be

Then, I am still and wait here in the silence

Until you come and sit awhile with me

You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains

You raise me up to walk on stormy seas

I am strong when I am on your shoulders

You raise me up to more than I can be.

My journey brightens and my load lightens when I position myself to receive His love, wisdom, and counsel. To prayer journal requires no literary ability, only a heart’s desire to communicate joys, sorrows, disappointments, hopes, and dreams with our Savior, Redeemer, and Friend. We glimpse His glory and find nourishment in the manna of His Word when we ask His Holy Spirit to grant understanding and apply His truth to our lives.

Today my Bible journaling from Proverbs 12 reads:

12:1 He who hates correction is stupid. O Lord, please may I not hate correction. Please deliver me from my pride, for with humility comes wisdom (Proverbs 11:2).

12:15 The way of a fool seems right to him, but a wise man listens to advice. I often think I’m right. Please humble me to embrace wise counsel and advice.

12:16 A fool shows his annoyance at once, but a prudent man overlooks an insult.” Oh wow! This is me—showing my annoyance at once. Please forgive, cleanse, and change me. Please give me grace to give grace.

12:18 Reckless words pierce like a sword, but the tongue of the wise brings healing. Consequences of my reckless words continue to pierce my heart. Please open my mouth with wisdom and make my tongue the law of kindness (Proverbs 31:26).

12:26 “A righteous man is cautious in friendship.” Lord, I don’t want to use this for an excuse not to reach out to others, but in my neediness, may I be discretionary.

When I prayer/Bible journal, the enemy cannot steal away God’s personally documented words to me. And, like the hymn, when I turn my eyes upon Jesus, look full in His wonderful face, the things of earth grow strangely dim in the light of His glory and grace. Jesus says, “Behold, I am coming soon! My reward is with me, and I will give to everyone according to what he has done” (Revelation 22:12). Be encouraged, in the morning we will see the glory of the Lord (Exodus 16:11).

SO MUCH MORE than I asked or imagined? Well… I can’t see any big miracle right now. I came in weakness, wondering if I could sustain another Alcan trip of 5,000 miles—our fourteenth journey over fifteen years across these rugged, wintery miles.

We travel through mountain ranges, scrubby forest wilderness, smoky valleys, blowing glacier dust, over snowy, winding roads, and frost heaves. Dusk falls early. We peer intently through darkness and falling snow. Suddenly a moose appears before us! We brake… too late! A broadside hit knocks her off the road. Miraculously our truck sustains minimal damage and the moose disappears into the brush.

Before this trip I offered my “loaves and fishes” to the Lord. I said, Lord, I’m Yours. I’m getting older. I love the warm autumn weather at home in Spokane. You know what this very long, cold, curvy, bumpy, and sometimes dangerous ride does to us. Yet, You bought me with Your blood and deep down I know You call us to make this trip to Alaska again. Therefore, I offer to You my little faith and take this step in obedience. Please multiply my trust and glorify Yourself.

Rather than fly to Alaska, we needed to drive and make various stops along the way. The first night we enjoyed sweet fellowship with Canadian missionaries. The next two nights we reconnected with my brother and family for a wedding. Three road nights in our travel trailer brought us to Palmer, AK to reunite with our son’s family and delightful grandchildren.

The following week we served with Arctic Barnabas Ministry Family Retreat at Victory Bible Camp. God blessed us with many good conversations, fellowship, sharing, and opportunities to listen to stories of pastors and missionaries serving in remote villages. We also reconnected with supporters, friends, and our sending church in Anchorage for two days before driving to the Kenai Peninsula.

Nearly another week passed as we visited our eldest son’s family and additional delightful grandchildren, ABM staff, and friends. Each night God graced us with good sleep and each morning I prayed for God’s Spirit to revive and fill me.

As our trip nears its end I am weary. Glad? Yes. Thankful for strength and grace and purpose? Yes! Thankful for windshield time to debrief, process, and reflect on God’s grace and goodness? Most assuredly! Has God multiplied my little faith? Yes, in many quiet, beautiful, relational ways: sweet conversations, hugs, sharing, and reconnections became multiplied loaves and fishes. At first my weariness blinded my eyes to the relational miracles God gave to me. Now I finally see it!

Jesus didn’t want to send people away hungry so He multiplied a small boy’s lunch to feed thousands. He still does not want people to go away hungry. As we offer Him our small “lunch,” our small faith, our few talents, even our weaknesses, brokenness, and fears, He takes them, redeems them, blesses them, and uses them to reveal Himself to us and through us to others.

Two thousand years ago His hands broke that bread and fish to feed physically hungry people. Today He wants to multiply our faith and obedience to feed relationally hungry people. For Him to do the humanly impossible requires us to ask for two graces: We must ask Him for a gift of faith and we must ask Him for such a deep relationship with Him and others that we want to obey.

A warm and beautiful Spokane autumn beckoned me to stay in my comfort zone this fall. At my age, every excuse presented itself. Yet, deep down, I knew what God wanted. Thankfully, in spite of excuses and tested faith, God worked in me to will and to act according to His good purpose (Phil. 2:13).

In Philippians 2:3-4, Paul tells us to do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility to consider others better than ourselves. He says each of us should look not only to our own interests, but also to the interests of others. Then in verses 5,7,8, he says our attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus who made Himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, He humbled Himself and became obedient to death—even death on a cross!

What small sacrifices I make in comparison! He left the glories of heaven (a far greater distance than 5,000 miles) and the intimate, perfect presence of His Father (far greater than warm climates or creature comforts) to enter our broken world and be despised and rejected by men. What amazing love!! He knows. He understands our weaknesses, our fleshly struggles, and failures. He does not despise or condemn us for them. He wants to bless us by multiplying even a little faith to give us more than we could ever ask or imagine.

I face one more challenge on this trip: writing, editing, and completing this women’s letter while we drive. Perhaps God, in His amazing grace, will multiply my efforts on this curvy, bumpy, seemingly endless road to bless you today in some small way.

God is able to make all grace abound toward you so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work (2Cor 9:8).

How sweet His promises!

THANK YOU, LORD, for loaves and fishes multiplied. I had so little… Not enough to share, but I gave my little to You. Somehow, in Your hands, You made my little much, So much more than I asked or imagined. We all went away… satisfied, and this child looks back in grateful wonder.

WHAT HAPPENED? What suddenly triggered the pain in my heart and the tears in my eyes—what released this inner storm? We just got off the phone with our youngest son. When little, he knew just how to “push my buttons” and evoke a sharp emotional response. Over the years God made Himself very real and personal to Joel, and he still “pushes my buttons.” However, now it flows through the Holy Spirit to open my heart in places that need opening.

Today we talked about anxiety and how beneath anxiety lies the desire for control. The harder we try to control our world, the more anxious we become. The Lord knows how years and circumstances stripped away my perceived ability to control life. Now I just feel lost at sea. My life and identity used to center on music, art, and dramatic performances, and over time, a wife, mother, and grandmother. Right now I feel generations behind. I cannot possibly catch up to the changes in music, art forms, technology, fashions, or compete with the abilities or motivations of the young. After Sunday’s worship service of songs I knew not, nor could sing with, much less catch the rhythm or melody of, I felt depressed… okay, maybe despairing—wanting to give up.

My son also mentioned people who want Jesus to come back to rescue them from this evil world instead of fighting to make a difference where they’re planted. Of course, that royally pushed my buttons because I’ve not made it a secret of how much I long for Christ’s return. Yet, the tears began to flow because without control, I must grieve my losses, crawl out of my tomb of self-imposed despair, and be renewed in hope, all of which feel harder than giving up.

Myron Rae Lefevre wrote: Without Him I could do nothing, Without Him, I’d surely fail, Without Him I would be drifting, Like a ship without a sail. Strange that Elvis sang this song. Obviously, it’s not enough to know I can do nothing without Him. I must remember I still CAN do all things through Christ who strengthens me. What does it take to cut my losses, get back on stage, and reach for the high calling of God in Christ Jesus? Obviously, the ability to orchestrate my life comes not through my own ingenuity, wisdom, creativity, or power, but in determined, intentional trust in God’s plan for each stage of my life.

Matthew tells the story of when Jesus goes up a mountain to pray and a storm catches the disciples, tossing them about in the middle of the sea. Just when it seems it can’t get any worse, it does. They sight a “ghost” coming toward them on the water, which terrifies them! Then Jesus calls out to them, “Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.”

Peter, of course it would be Peter, calls out to the ghost, “Lord, if it’s you, tell me to come to you on the water.”

Jesus says, “Come,” and Peter gets out of the boat and walks on water toward Jesus. But then, as we all do, he turns his eyes from Jesus, looks at the wind and waves, and immediately begins to sink into his scary circumstances. He suddenly realizes he is not in control and it scares him out of his wits!

Yet, Jesus remains the Blessed Controller of all things. That’s why He says to Peter, “You of little faith. Why did you doubt?” Then He calms the wind.

Why did you doubt? Why? Why when I AM and I am in complete and total control of the wind and waves and everything else in your precious life? Why do you doubt My orchestration of your life no matter how many years go by, no matter how far behind you feel, no matter how weary you become?

Strangely, also today, my dear, once widowed college friend posted a blog about financial preparedness involving the death of a spouse (carolshope.com). We cannot control when that will happen. But it will. Responding to my comment on her blog, Carol e-mailed me saying, “We need to trust God with the circumstances of our lives, knowing they are out of our control; however, we are to be “wise as serpents and harmless as doves” (Matt 10:16). I think that applies to preparing as we can, and leaving the rest to His love and wisdom.”

Dear ones, Jesus says to us, “Come.” He invites us to “walk on water” as long as we keep our eyes on Him. As we release control, He draws us out of our helpless despair, stills our inner storms, and safely brings us to shore.

Walk On Water

TAKE COURAGE!
It is I,” He said,
“Don’t be afraid.”
… With eyes on Jesus
He left the boat
And began to walk on the sea,
But he turned to look
At the raging wind,
And sinking cried, “Lord, save me!”
Jesus caught him with his hand
And gently drew him out,
“Oh you of little faith,” He said,
“Why did you doubt?”

(Principle of Matthew 14:27-31 by MarJean Peters © 2016)

TRAVELING HOME from my fiftieth high school reunion, images, faces, voices, and hugs drift in and out of my consciousness. Over all the years, my gypsy life-style kept me from earlier reunions, so the shock of recognition abruptly interrupted my denial of age.

There we were—once eighteen-year-old kids transformed through time and circumstance into our grandparents! Flickers of recognition came with face-to-face encounters. . . and name tags. The incomprehensible time-warp undeniably revealed the physical dilapidation and/or expansion of our former selves. Young, athletic, beautiful bodies and academic aptitudes obviously retired to give way to following generations.

Ghosts of high school past moved with us as we toured our old and remodeled high school building. Echoes of our young voices, laughter, and drama still drifted through those halls and classrooms. The next evening at dinner we stood in solemn silence for classmates who’ve passed on. At eighteen, we felt immortal. Yet, like flowers of the field, we shall all fade and fall. Then who will remember our glory days under the sun? Less than a speck within eternity, our earthly lives glow for a moment then disappear. We cannot fathom the passing of time because we were designed and created for eternity.

While living in Alaska, I witnessed night skies shimmering with aurora borealis—undulating celestial lights dancing to a cosmic rhythm beyond our earthly preoccupations. Myriads of stars, so clear and brilliant against the cold Arctic blackness, beckoned my spirit to join their opulence within the vastness of a universe that stretches. . . forever. Some labels say, “Made in China,” but each of us bear a label that reads, “Made for Eternity”.

Our finite minds cannot grasp “forever” or the vastness of space, eternity, or the omnipresence of Eternal God. Though ignored, trampled, and denied, He remains the Epicenter of all things, the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End. He is the forever “I AM,” existing from eternity past to eternity future. The Day will come when of His kingdom there shall be no end. God created us for Himself because all things were created by Him and for Him. He alone holds all things together. Nothing is too infinite or too finite for Him. Nothing and no one escapes His notice or attention. Ever.

We stand beneath the stars and before His throne by grace. Only by undeserved favor we enter His dimension, and that by the blood of the Lamb of God through faith. Not Alaska, nor Texas, nor the whole earth, nor the universe can contain His house. Yet. . . He lives within the hearts of those who receive Him and brings us into the House of God both now and forever!

No matter what changes the years have brought to us or taken from us, these amazing truths were written to show us the way to God and encourage us to finish well:

For this is what the high and exalted One says— he who lives forever, whose name is holy: “I live in a high and holy place, but also with the one who is contrite and lowly in spirit, to revive the spirit of the lowly and to revive the heart of the contrite (Isa 57:15).

I am always with you; you hold me by my right hand. You guide me with your counsel, and afterward you will take me into glory. Whom have I in heaven but You? And earth has nothing I desire besides you. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever (Psa 73:23-26).

We’re all traveling “home”. May each of us run to Jesus, the Good Shepherd, the Door, and “dwell in the house of the Lord forever.” Thank you for traveling through the 23rd Psalm together with me. As we conclude these mediations, I trust God’s Spirit ministered His love and grace to your heart, strengthening you to follow Him wholeheartedly in these last earth days.

With love and prayers,

MarJean

 

OUR RELOCATION to Alaska 9/9/‘99 without a job once again tested our faith. We moved into the bottom of our second son’s duplex and looked for work. After three long months, a position opened for my husband at our new church to run the Resource Center. Here we were: near our children, in a good church, with a job, back in ministry, and living in a house instead of a motel. Six weeks later we celebrated God’s grace and goodness at a staff Christmas party, about which I journaled:

Dear LORD,

Five long tables under white linen were set with fine china and sparkling crystal. Door frames graced with bright holiday decor and glowing candles transformed a living room into a banquet hall for our staff Christmas party. A large picture window opened onto a winter wonderland illuminated by a twinkling fir tree. Scintillating icicle lights hung from the roof. A feast spread before us—barbecued New York steaks, mounds of Alaskan king crab, festive salads and entremets, sparkling cider in crystal goblets. Happy voices, laughter, and singing filled the room. I felt so overwhelmed! I could only silently rejoice in You for spreading this entire “table” before us.

A few months ago I was alone in a motel room without a home, church, or ministry, eating nuked TV dinners at 11:00 at night when Conrad would finally be off after a long pointless day of sales work. It seemed appropriate to celebrate the end of that “wilderness” by wrapping up my collection of motel soaps and shampoos to bring for the party’s “Chinese Auction.” They said to bring anonymous, funny gifts from home. However, the person who received my collection did not think it was funny at all. Long after the laughter of the evening faded I lay in the darkness, still painfully embarrassed at having brought such a crude gift.

Why this raging inner battle after such a joyful celebration? Do You have any redeeming value for my thoughtless stupidity? I can only pray that those “gross” soaps and “disgusting” shampoos will be used by Your sweet Spirit as a reminder to the receiver that it is only by grace we can enter and enjoy the blessings of fellowship and ministry in Your house.

Yes, only by grace! Still more lessons of grace came and went. Sometimes I think of John the Baptist’s words about his relationship with Jesus, “He must increase but I must decrease” (Jn. 3:30). I thought getting older meant I’d become better—more mature and wise and spiritually valuable. Yet, the older I become, the more I realize my depravity, my brokenness, my utter weakness. I’m utterly dependent upon Him, His strength, His grace, His mercy, love, wisdom, power. . . . It’s like I’m being swallowed up in Him.

I’m only a shadow of past glory—singing, acting, painting, performing. . . . Today my tremors, insomnia, arthritis, food intolerances, and poliomyelitis compromised nervous system all work together to reduce me, break me, and according to God’s promise, mold me into the image of Jesus—humbling me, breaking my willfulness, my temper, co-dependence, and whatever other baggage I’ve carried for so long.

I cry out with the psalmist, How lovely is your dwelling place, Lord Almighty! My soul yearns, even faints, for the courts of the Lord, my heart and my flesh cry out for the living God. Even the sparrow has found a home, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may have her young—a place near your altar, Lord Almighty, my King and my God. Blessed are those who dwell in your house; they are ever praising you (Psa 84:1-4).

The beauty, bounty, and joyous celebration of our staff Christmas party after months of homelessness cannot begin to compare with the Marriage Feast of the Lamb after the end of our earth life! What absolutely amazing grace that we will dwell in the house of the LORD forever!

YOUR DWELLING PLACE

‘Tis dawning upon me,
My years are increasing
And my time left is decreasing
Faster than I can absorb their passing.

Life caters to the young.
My health and strength a youthful echo
In an unwilling reality check
Of increasing limitations.

You have been my God in ages past
And You are my Lord God yet.
Is there a place in Your house
For the socially homeless,
Chronologically gifted,
Retreads and has-beens?

But where do You live?
Not in temples made with hands?
Oh… but in the heart
Of true believers—
Common earthen vessels
Not chosen for their loveliness.
Your dwelling place becomes lovely
Because You are there.

Your loveliness within
Depends not on the age or strength,
Intelligence or physical features
Of this clay pot.
The less of me, the more of You,
The more Your loveliness shines through.
How lovely is Your dwelling place!

—MarJean S. Peters

I KNOW . . . sounds like a sitcom. Yet, God pursuing us with goodness and mercy all the days of our lives is so much more than characters humorously portrayed on stage.

God not only forgives our sins, heals our diseases, redeems our lives from destruction, crowns us with love and compassion, satisfies our desires with good things, and renews our strength (Psa 103:3-5), He also disciplines those He loves. In mercy He does not give us as our sins deserve, but He disciplines and trains us for our good that we may share in His holiness and produce a harvest of righteousness and peace.

Therefore, the writer of Hebrews says, strengthen your feeble arms and weak knees (Heb. 12:6,10,11,12).

When God says, I will fulfill My purpose for you; Surely My love endures forever—I will not abandon the works of My hands (Psa 138:8), we can grab onto that promise and run the race with it. Doesn’t that just give you a shot in the ole feeble arms and strengthen those weak knees?

Soon after we moved to Alaska, winter descended and I looked in amazement at the beauty of the Chugach Mountains bathed pink in the rays of the setting sun. These mountains surround Anchorage like a bowl and thousands of lights twinkled and sparkled in and around this frozen and otherwise dark city. Without a cloud cover the temperature dropped to O° Fahrenheit. In spite of landing in this winter wonderland, we wondered how God would fulfill His purpose for us here at the end of the earth, especially without a job or ministry.

Fortunately the light of Jesus also shines into cold and dark places. He brings life and beauty into the otherwise barren wastelands of our lives. God had already presided at my conception, rejoiced at my birth, taken my hand, and led me through perils of polio in childhood. He kept me through the tumultuous years of my youth and celebrated my wedding day. Jesus—our constant companion in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, for better or for worse. He orchestrated the births of our children, felt our hearts as each left our nest, and brought seventeen grandchildren into being. Though we made our plans, God always directed our steps. He gave purpose to each difficult seasonal transition with the light of His love and grace.

Now, how unbelievable to actually be growing old. Yet, we can look back over a life-time of God’s goodness and mercy. I read that we cannot fathom the passing of time because we were made for eternity. Makes sense to me. David says, You have made my days a mere handbreadth; the span of my years is as nothing before you. Everyone is but a breath, even those who seem secure (Psa 39:5). Chapters later he writes, He knows how we are formed, and remembers that we are dust. The life of mortals is like grass, they flourish like a flower of the field; the wind blows over it and it is gone, and its place remembers it no more (Psa 103:14-16).

David acknowledges that God purposefully ordained each of our days, All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be (Psa 139:16). Each day is God’s gift to us to spend either in selfish pursuits or in loving and adoring Him.

We only have One. Short. Life.

Therefore. . . let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith. . . (Heb 12:1-2). God marked out a unique path for each one of us, a race for you and a race for me to complete and for Him to perfect.

How important to hold His hand throughout our days. As a small child I remember reaching up for my Daddy’s hand as we walked out of church in a crowded isle. What a surprise reaching the foyer to look up and discover I was holding the wrong daddy’s hand! My tears of embarrassment stilled as my own Daddy took me in his arms. How easy to grasp another’s hand for security with resulting pain and embarrassment. Yet, each time we run back into our Daddy’s arms, He holds us even more closely.

Not only is He our Eternal and Good Shepherd, but our Creator, Designer, and the Master Weaver of our lives:

MASTER WEAVER

Master Weaver,
Weaver of my ways.
I look to You for all my days.
Master Weaver,
Weaving love through pain and strife,
You are the designer,
The designer of my life.

Weaver, take the broken strands
And replace them all with new.
I desire my life to be
Without blemish, without stain,
Living just for You.

Take the tangles of my sin,
By Your mercy, set me free,
Through Your perfect sacrifice,
Lamb of God on Calvary,
Gave Your blood for me.

Take the dark threads of my years,
Sweetest offering raised to Thee,
Then Your lovely character
Will be woven skillfully,
Your pattern seen in me.

Weave the bright strands of Your joys
Through the days of dark despair,
So the world may see You’re real,
Through my life, LORD,
Know You’re there,
The Weaver that I share.

Master Weaver,
Weaver of my ways.
I look to You for all my days.
Master Weaver,
Weaving love through pain and strife,
You are the designer,
The designer of my life.

© 1985 MarJean S. Peters

ONE COLD SPRING our banty hen sat on a clutch of eggs. As they began to hatch, my mother brought them into the house for warmth. My five year old sister sat wide-eyed as she leaned over the hatching chicks, unknowingly imprinting her beautiful little face into their bird brains. As their fluff dried, they instinctively began to move toward that imprint. She moved away. They followed. She moved faster. On they came, peeping their little hearts out. To this day she doesn’t like birds! Under ordinary circumstances, the mother hen keeps close track of her babies and they respond to her call.

Today I carefully lifted the lid of our parakeet nesting box and peered inside. There, in a feather-lined indentation, lay the tiniest five eggs I’ve ever seen. We’re just so excited! In another couple weeks we anticipate the wonder of new life. The first face they see will undoubtedly be their attentive and beautiful blue mother. According to web info, she and their yellow-green daddy, will feed, care for, and teach the incredibly tiny, naked, and blind hatchlings until their eyes open, they grow feathers, and pattern their behavior after their parents.

Zoological imprinting happens when a young animal recognizes another animal, person, or thing as a parent or object of habitual trust. MedicineNet.com says psychological imprinting is “a remarkable phenomenon that occurs in animals, and theoretically in humans, in the first hours of life. The newborn creature bonds to the type of animals it meets at birth and begins to pattern its behavior after them.”

When God created Adam in His image and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, the man became a living soul. No doubt, Adam’s eyes first opened to behold the Son of God. He was imprinted with habitual trust and patterned his behavior after his Creator. However. . . we know the story. Because Adam and Eve chose to follow another voice, they plunged the entire human race into false imprints. Satan told Eve that if she ate from the God-forbidden fruit her eyes would be opened. And so it was. Our eyes opened alright, but not to God. They opened to things of this world and to other gods, after which we follow and pattern our lives.

However, to save us from our wayward and literally dead-end pursuits, God imprinted Himself with humanity. He took on human flesh and imprinted you and me into the palms of His hands (Isa. 49:16). He relentlessly pursues and offers us the breath of eternal life. This new birth opens our eyes to the existence and love of God. We no longer conform to the pattern of this world but are transformed by the renewing of our minds (Rom 12:2). Jesus says, “My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me” (Jn 10:27).

King David says God’s goodness and mercy shall “redap” him all the days of his life (Psa 23:6). This Hebrew word means to pursue, chase after, or hound. The English poet Francis Thompson (1859-1907) wrote ”The Hound of Heaven,” a 182-line poem expressing God’s unrelenting pursuit of us. The prophet Hosea illustrates God’s painful, jealous love for unfaithful Israel by taking a harlot as his wife. However, she continues to pursue other lovers. Then Hosea finds her, buys her back, binds up her wounds, and draws her into His arms. Dear ones, God bought us with the highest price in the universe and jealously pursues us with His goodness and mercy.

The “Hound of Heaven” overcomes our natural inclination to doubt His love and wander off by continuing to woo us, calling to us with intense and tender jealousy. The enemy stalks us to destroy us, but God pursues us to protect and deliver us from worldly values, evil inclinations, and deception. Through God’s unrelenting pursuit, we come to recognize Him as our parent in habitual trust. Through faith in Christ, we receive the power of His Spirit to bond with Him and pattern our behavior after Him. His goodness and mercy follow us all the days of our lives.

I will fulfill My purpose for you; Surely My love endures forever—I will not abandon the works of My hands (Psa 138:8)

He will cover you with His feathers, and under His wings you will find refuge (Psa 91:4)

Hide me in the shadow of Your wings (Psa 17:8)

I long to dwell in Your tent forever and take refuge in the shelter of Your wings. Selah (Psa 61:4)

TODAY WE LEFT THE SWELTERING HEAT of Tennessee and began our journey back home through Missouri, from where I presently write. This evening, after driving through constant and heavy freeway traffic and dodging a multitude of freight trucks, we relax in little Smithville outside of Kansas City.

In the cool of this evening we look out over a hayfield and hear numerous bird calls, crickets, and only distant traffic and an occasional jet—an oasis of rest after two weeks of helping our son and his family move from Spokane, Washington to Nashville. Not exactly an easy time since they still do not have a place to live besides their fifth wheel trailer, nor do they have paying jobs, and school starts for their two little kiddos on August 3.

I’m reminded of King Solomon’s words, “To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven” Ecc 3:1. My heart aches over the faith trial our kids must go through, yet I remember our own relocation from Washington to Alaska seventeen years ago. Following that difficult time, I wrote in my prayer journal:

Dear Shepherd,
We bow our heads before You and the oil of joy fills our hearts to overflowing. I sing the words of André Crouch, “How can I say thanks for all the things You have done for me, things so undeserved….”

You were with us as we lumbered along in our 26 foot, ’87 GMC truck winding through deepening autumn foliage and magnificent mountain passes, past tranquil lakes and turquoise rivers. Your glaciers ribboned between rocky cliffs that rose into vast cloud formations. You brought us from Salem, Oregon through British Columbia, the Yukon Territories, and Alaska. Our journey finally came to an end at 1:00 a.m. Friday, September 9, 1999. You were still with us when our truck made that one last groan as it cranked up the steep driveway of Jami’s duplex in Anchorage.

In all the following days of unloading, unpacking, arranging, and rearranging, You never left us. You made a way where there seemed to be no way in the weeks of job hunting and ministry seeking. November 29 You gave Conrad a new ministry as Resource Center Coordinator at our new church.

You led, guided, encouraged, provided, and kept Your promise to go ahead of us. You crowned us with loving kindness and tender mercies. The process was not easy. We did not smile through every trial. We did not understand or like everything You did or did not do. Yet, I bow before You now and the oil of joy runs from my head to my heart with overflowing praise and thanksgiving. “For Your Name’s sake” You poured out Your grace to us and we must tell what You have done. Yes André, TO GOD BE THE GLORY!

I gaze across the open field tonight to a deepening blue sky. I long to come to an end of this earthly journey and enter our final and glorious home. Yet, hymns of praise drift through my mind these days.

I love Fanny Crosby’s words, “All the way my Savior leads me; What have I to ask beside? Can I doubt His tender mercy, Who thro’ life has been my guide? Heav’nly peace divinest comfort, Here by faith in Him to dwell! For I know whate’er befall me, Jesus doeth all things well. . . .”

John W. Peterson’s words join in, “Some day life’s journey will be o’er And I shall reach that distant shore; I’ll sing while ent’ring heaven’s door, ‘Jesus led me all the way. Jesus led me all the way, Led me step by step each day;’ I will tell the saints and angels as I lay my burdens down, ‘Jesus led me all the way.'”

What sweet comfort! He anoints my head with the oil of joy and my cup runs over because God’s promises are true for me, for my children, and for you. We can rejoice in our victories today and in confidence of our coming redemption!

A WEALTHY PLACE

I praise You, my God!
I shout my gratitude:
You are the Giver and Keeper of my life,
You make me an overcomer.
You test me;
You bring trouble upon me
To reveal the wickedness of my heart,
And to cleanse and purify it
As bright silver reflecting Your loveliness.
You force me to remain in hard circumstances,
You use people to ride over me,
To break my will to Your will.
You take me through painful experiences,
But You refine me
And bring me safely through.
You reveal Yourself to me
Through these circumstances.
Indeed a wealthy place!
Therefore, I will keep my commitment to You
And be strong to trust You.
To all who will listen,
I will tell what You have done for me.

—MarJean S. Peters, personalized from Psalm 66:8-16

WE SUDDENLY find ourselves in Tornado Alley! Just an hour ago we passed through gently rolling hills beneath a warm sun and clear sky. I wondered how to write about the presence of my enemies in this tranquil place where grazing cattle and hay bales dot the hillsides. However, this South Dakota highway took us straight toward an ever darkening horizon until we drove right into a storm. Now lightening flashes and torrents of rain beat against the windshield. We cautiously watch the horizon for any descending funnels. The earlier peaceful, pastoral landscape actually engages a clear and present danger. Seventeen years ago I wrote about a different kind of “tornado alley” in my journal:

Today we walked through the small downstairs duplex where we will live if we move to Anchorage. The occupant isn’t out yet and reeking ash trays of cigarette butts were stacked near the sink. Low ceilings and small basement windows felt claustrophobic. I can’t figure out how we’ll fit in there, but I’m almost too tired to care.

The Shepherd knows my thoughts, anxieties, and longings. I really don’t want to live in a rental… of any kind. I don’t want to move all our stuff or leave stuff behind. I don’t want to use our equity on moving expenses. Yet, If we don’t move here, I cringe at infringing on relatives in the lower “48” until we find jobs. Such fears lay hold of me! For all my prayers, logic, and talking, I cannot motivate my husband to make a decision. I realize we’ll need some miracles if the Shepherd wants us in Alaska.

I pour out my heart asking Him to refill it with Himself and His Word so the enemy will find no resting place here. Surely he seeks to devour us from the shadows of an unknown future. Knowing the future is hidden from us, he takes full advantage of our limitations. From the paint box of our own vivid imaginations, he conjures up scenarios of what could happen and brushes in human logic and reasoning. Soon he convinces us of a fierce reality before us. Doubt replaces trust. Fear replaces faith. Panic replaces truth. We begin to speak and act out of unbelief and fear, quenching and grieving His sweet and tender Holy Spirit.

The Shepherd calls us to repentance. We come to His light. We pray to overcome. What glorious promises for those who overcome! He is the Truth. In Him we find a peaceful and bright reality. He is the God of joyful expectation and He fills us with joy and peace in the very presence of our enemies.

We did move into that apartment in Alaska and by God’s sweet grace it became our cozy home for ten months while God provided a job and before we could purchase a home. So many answered prayers and amazing provisions followed, as well as more trials. Yet, always He blesses us with abundance in the presence of our enemies.

The South Dakota storm passes and we drive into a humid and tranquil evening. So many times the storms of life threaten to swallow us up in fear and anxiety. Yet, in the presence of those fears, the LORD Himself remains with us and encourages us on. If we never had to face a storm we would not learn to know Him. It is when we face our greatest enemies that God reveals His love, power, and deliverance. For that we can surely praise Him!

WAR CRY

Lions roar and shadows walk,
Darkness deepens, enemies stalk,
Accuser of brothers, father of lies,
“How fierce the battle!” the warrior cries.

Then out from brazen heavens above,
God’s sweet Spirit descends like a dove;
He whispers a message in the weary one’s ear
To be strong in the LORD and not to fear.

His mighty power will help us stand
With the armor of God and His Sword in our hand;
In war not waged against man’s flesh and blood,
We fight powers of darkness we’ve not understood.

Yet God’s hand is greater if we only believe,
The shield of faith becomes our reprieve.
The breastplate of righteousness shines like the sun,
Reflecting the beauty of Jesus, God’s Son.

Then when the battlecries thunder around,
The belt of God’s truth keeps us safe, keeps us sound.
The helmet of deliverance protects our mind
From intrusive thoughts intended to blind.

We bring each scenario before Jesus alone
To bow in obedience before His great throne.
We run in obedience with shoes light and strong
With good news of peace to overcome wrong.

May we not grow weary in doing what’s right,
For the end of the battle is surely in sight.
And Jesus stands waiting to give us reward
For faithfully trusting His Holy Word.

Though lions roar and sorrows run deep,
God hears our prayers and sees us weep.
He fights for us with flashing sword,
Making us conquerors through Jesus our Lord

—MarJean S. Peters