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. . .

Two months in a twenty-four foot trailer in someone’s back yard isn’t all bad. We officially joined Arctic Barnabas Ministries August 1, of ’05, squeezed into this small compartment, and looked for a house. The first week of October when temperatures dropped, our trailer heater quit! However, that day we flew to ABM Ministry Family Retreat in Port Alsworth—my first bush trip. . . and airsick! However, engaging those precious missionaries made up for any discomfort. When we returned, our house deal closed and we unpacked our storage unit after nearly a year.

God answered our prayers for a house with a lot of windows to compensate for those long, dark Alaskan winters. We had also asked for private guest space for ministry hospitality. Cathedral ceilings graced a two-bedroom apartment complete with kitchen and living area over the heated double car garage. We occupied the downstairs living room, kitchen, and master bedroom. My plans for an upstairs office didn’t happen since we hosted more guests, more often, and longer than anticipated.

We decided to build a 330 square-foot office and bathroom on the other side of the garage beneath an existing RV roof. This allowed space for Conrad to counsel, for overflow guest space, and for privacy when inundated with guests. The living room couch served as my study and laptop writing space and a new cabinet concealed my books and files.

I’m naturally goal-oriented, motivated, focused, and live with a sense of urgency. God designed Conrad more easy going, able to enjoy process, a multi-tasker preferring perfection over speed. Therefore, with freeze-up immanent, and the kids coming for Christmas, the pressure was on! One day as Conrad sauntered through Home Depot, I went out to the truck in desperate frustration. There God reminded me that my goal to complete this project by freeze-up was not as important as His goal to conform me to the image of Jesus.

That fall, Joel enrolled at Multnomah School of the Bible. He came home for Thanksgiving and asked Amy Underwood to marry him. She not only agreed, but to do so over Christmas break! He finished classes in spring with Amy by his side and returned to Anchorage to work for Coffman Engineering.

Christmas ‘06 came and pink insulation still hung exposed between the joists. I complained to a friend in Alberta, “I can’t put our pregnant daughter and their little ones in that cold, dirty, unfinished room!” She suggested Conrad and I sleep in there. I said, “I don’t think so!” She asked, “What about Mary and Joseph?” I wept in surrender.

In the meantime, Jonathan and Jami hoped their engineering business would generate finances to help missionaries. When their third partner wanted the company, Jonathan and Jami let it go. . . to the death of a vision. However, God’s appointments often come through disappointments. ABM needed a lead airplane mechanic. Our director approached Jonathan to fill that position. Joining ABM meant going back to mechanic work after managing his own company.

God was at work in Jonathan’s heart. While still in high school he collected information from Moody Bible Institute’s Missionary Aviation Program. Realizing that meant standing in front of people and raising support, he closed the book on mission aviation and became a forester, then an aircraft mechanic instead. This time he surrendered his will to join Arctic Barnabas and headed out with his family to raise support.

About this time our visionary ABM founder/director evidenced signs of burn-out and took a six-month sabbatical. Upon his return, mutual conclusions evidenced God’s mind for change in ABM leadership. That spring Jonathan led the aviation team to overhauled a Navajo Chieftain aircraft, donated to us by Franklin Graham. As he carried out these responsibilities with accuracy, speed, and capable team leadership, the ABM board recognized his gifts as a match. Jonathan became the executive director of Arctic Barnabas Ministries on January 1 of 2009.

We flew in bush planes to visit and encourage pastors and missionaries over some of the grandest glacial mountain and tundra landscapes in the world! Our first bush trip took place in mid-November at 20 below zero. The three of us shivered in the six-passenger Seneca aircraft until airborne. Even then a cold draft penetrated my new Woolrich coat. We flew to Unalakeet, Galena, Koyuk, and Greyling. In one village, the native pastor’s wife loaned me a down “parkie” for the rest of the trip and I finally warmed up. She even dressed me in two down “parkies” to go ice fishing! With shrieks of delight, I caught Tom Cods on a string let down through a hole in the ice. In another village, the dear native pastor’s wife said she was already “peopled out” when we arrived. No motels exist in these villages so it lands on the pastor’s wife to feed and house all the visitors and mission teams that come through. Another pastor’s wife (interim) told me she did not need encouragement. Yet another missionary wife and her husband could not stop sharing their hearts with us.

In time, the ministry families became gratefully aware of Arctic Barnabas and our heart to help them with everything from remodeling their homes, fixing, repairing, bringing supplies, providing mission teams, to tea parties, doing regional mens’ and women’s retreats, and family retreats. I loved writing and editing a small publication to encourage these women every month, plus doing other publications for the mission. Conrad directed the Pastor To Missionary ministry.

I write with profound gratitude for all God’s grace to us! I thank the Father of compassion and God of all comfort who comforted us in all our troubles so that now we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God (2 Cor. 1:3-4). There were times we were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired even of life. . . but this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God, who raises the dead (2 Cor. 1:8b-9).

And the story continues. . .

The words still echoed in my mind, “Your job ends in one week. Your severance pay will extend for one month.” Shock and disbelief sent me reeling as my husband shared this news over a hurried lunch. Our earlier joy of imagined roots in this growing church dissolved with this change in staffing structure. Overwhelmed by the mountain of changes that rose before me, I stared at 1Corinthians 13 from which I just “happened” to be writing a devotional. I seriously wondered how to love those I held responsible for our exposed roots, our loss of material security, and shattered dreams of ministry longevity in this place.

The stages of grief played out over time. First came denial, “This isn’t really happening!” And bargaining, “Lord, maybe You can make this job still work even if it doesn’t fit his gifting.” When reality hit, so did anger—anger at people and circumstances! Spiteful and revengeful, it exhausted itself through sleepless nights. Yet I had read, “love is not proud.” Pride refused to believe this could happen to us. Pride tried to manipulate circumstances. Pride felt cheated and rejected. And finally, Pride attempted to take root in bitterness and convince me of betrayal.

But love is humble and says, “This could happen to us because the LORD gives and the LORD takes away. Blessed be the name of the LORD!” (Job 1:21) Humility knows God sovereignly planned for this and will trust Him to either deliver or provide for us (Dan. 3:17-18). Humility may not understand, but still believes the best about my friends” (1Cor. 13:7). Love will not listen to the accuser trying to drive a wedge between us” (Rev. 12:10). Humility realizes that what happens to us does not destroy us, but rather our attitude of unforgiveness destroys us (Heb. 12:15). Humility thanks God for loving us enough to test and purify us (James 1:2). Humility asks God to empower us to cooperate with Him so His character is revealed through this trial (Col.1:11). Humility believes that even if man rejects us, God never does. Rather He chooses us for His purposes, promising never to leave or forsake us (Heb. 13:5). Humility believes God will use our greatest hurt for His greatest purposes (1Pet.1:6-7).

I can only thank God for exposing my pride through these circumstances, for the cleansing stream of His Word and the power of His resurrection that delivered me from destroying myself from the inside out. I still bow before such grace!

As I waded through these trials, our son Jonathan encouraged us to check out a new mission on the Kenai Peninsula called Arctic Barnabas Ministries. Jonathan and Becky represented this ministry to our church as mission ambassadors. We had often talked about our desire to encourage pastors and missionaries and this young couple on the Peninsula were actually doing exactly that.

In June of 2004 we visited the director and his wife in Kenai and all of us felt exhilarated and hopeful. All of us, except for Conrad who held back with doubts and reservations. He put this decision on the back burner and found piecework as a construction helper, did some painting, and finally found employment as a plumber’s gofer.

In the meantime, our daughter fell in love and decided to marry, so of course needed all that comes with a wedding. In God’s amazing faithfulness, ChangePoint people rallied and brought all the food for the wedding. Others helped financially. On November 13 we celebrated not only Charissa and Bryan’s wedding, but God’s faithfulness through His people!

A couple weeks later Conrad released his fears, submitted to the Lord, and we joined the mission. By December we sent our first deputation letter. Three things Conrad never wanted to do: raise support, fly in small airplanes, and be around bears (San Francisco city-boy). God obviously smiled at the challenge and gave us all three, beginning with support raising. Typically it takes two or more years to raise full-time support for missions. Because of Conrad’s position at ChangePoint as an elder, a counselor, and even “the man with his arms in slings,” God surrounded us with people to partner with us.

First, we had to sell our house, which God did in three month’s time—miraculously! I had a By  Design retreat to do for the Carrot River/Nipawin ladies near Prince Albert, Saskatchewan the first week of March. We closed on the house the end of February, packed our belongings in Kenai storage, and headed across the still-frozen north to Saskatchewan. Fifty years had passed since I first moved to Carrot River as a child. I counted this opportunity to minister to these precious ladies a divine appointment.

When we returned to Kenai, we spent April and May in a Kenai mission house while we looked for a house to buy before deputation. We finally chose one, paid down on it, but pulled out for lack of peace. We painfully lost our earnest money. Then back at ChangePoint on Sunday, a lady we hardly  knew, who knew nothing of our lost downpayment, handed us an envelope with the exact amount! Undeserved favor!

We flew to Portland, bought a mini van, and drove through California, Oregon, Washington, and Idaho for the next two months to raise support. We read several books on how to raise support, but one hot July day we sat upstairs in Conrad’s sister’s home in Portland and realized our complete inability to do this. We said, “Lord, if you really want us in missions, You have to touch people’s hearts to give or we don’t go. Simple.” We exhausted our deputation trip and returned to Anchorage. Eight months from the day we began, a friend at ChangePoint asked how much we had left to raise. We told him, $300 committed per month. He said, “Done!”

That was it! We headed to Kenai. . .

“No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.” Romans 8:37

Traveling back down the Alcan in February created a new adventure. The deep freezing temperatures, lack of traffic and civilization that far north can pose unforeseen danger. However, the reason for our trip felt even more daunting. My dad, earlier diagnosed with colon cancer, had undergone surgery and now opted out of lung surgery. His advancing cancer and Mom’s Parkinson’s necessitated help.

Following her graduation from Seattle Pacific University in winter of ‘99, our daughter drove a rescue truck in downtown Seattle as a paramedic. However, with her grandparents ill health, she left her job and drove up to Edmonton in January of 2001 to care for them. Our trip down the Alcan six weeks later was to help Mom and Dad move into Westview Health Care Center and bring Charissa home to Anchorage to live with us.

We made the 2,000 mile trip back, Charissa soon began work at Providence Children’s Hospital, and Mom and Dad settled into the care facility. For Mom’s 80th birthday on April 12, Dad arranged a birthday party for her in the dining hall. That night Mom awakened to his cries of pain! Getting up, his cancer-ridden femur had given way beneath his weight. April 18 he passed into glory and I vividly dreamt he pressed his warm face against mine and a flood of love encompassed me. I believe he came to say good-bye. He had told us he wanted to come to Alaska, but would have to see it on his way to heaven.

Conrad and I flew to Edmonton with Charissa for the funeral. Jonathan, Becky, four-month-old Abby, Jami, and Kristy used our van to drive straight through from Anchorage to Stony Plain, Alberta to gather for this sorrowful time.

Autumn came and one beautiful day Conrad went for a bike ride with our son’s golden retriever in tow. Upon returning, he stepped through the door looking very pale and obviously in pain. The dog had crossed in front of the bike and Conrad went down, breaking his left shoulder! As we awaited surgery on the morning of September 11, we watched the New York Twin Towers go down, which put our troubles into perspective. Inability now to use his left arm forced him to use and strengthen his right arm.

Over the next few years, besides helping Conrad with daily tasks, a faith venture called Tools for Life contracted me to write and illustrate children’s books for their curriculum. Jonathan and Jami began their own engineering company called Triverus and signed a contract with the U.S. Navy to design and build a deck cleaner for aircraft carriers. More grandchildren—Seth, Anna, Levi, and Allison arrived! Joel graduated with an engineering degree, moved in with us, and worked at Triverus with his brothers.

The church continued to grow in amazing ways under our pastor-evangelist and many people came to Christ and received the message of transformation outside of dead orthodoxy. God granted my long-time desire to teach women’s classes. Charissa also taught a class. What a joy to minister together! 109 women signed up for my first class on prayer journaling called Extraordinary Prayer. I desperately asked God to replace my prideful fears and self consciousness with love for the truth and these women. He abundantly answered!

Conrad loved meeting and ministering to people in the Resource Center throughout the three Sunday morning services, and also rejoiced to accept a new pastoral counselor position. However, a strange and indescribable chest pressure, sometimes all-encompassing and always with emotional weakness, pursued him. An EKG and a treadmill test revealed nothing. Was it physical, emotional, or spiritual? Was it a “thorn in the flesh,” a “messenger of Satan” to oppress him, or something else trying to surface in this “safe” place?

This was the appropriation part of my marriage vow, “In sickness and in health.” Such fearful scenarios rose up against me, but I remembered the promises in Revelation 2-3, “to him who overcomes, I will give. . . .” I surrendered my hope for a challenge-free marriage and resolved again to be an overcomer. At the time, we had no idea of the long-lasting and powerful effects of the pain medications prescribed earlier for his arm and shoulders. We were not connecting the dots!

Finally, Pastor Dan met with Conrad and shared the elders’ concern. He also confirmed how much they appreciated his ministry and value to them and our church family. Therefore, they wanted to offer him an opportunity to go to Link Care Center in Fresno, California—a ministry equipped with licensed and pastoral counselors for the health and healing of pastors and missionaries.

Though not our choice, we abandoned ourselves to God’s wise and loving plan. Perhaps Link Care could reveal what we could not see. However, no “lights” ever came on through these well-intentioned resources. During those five weeks Conrad and I walked a couple miles each day for coffee. . . and talked. Insights into our conservative and sometimes legalistic upbringing brought clues to Conrad’s inner conflicts and anxieties. The counselor prescribed an antidepressant for him, assuring us it was okay for Christians to take them. If only. . . if only we had known more about the long-lasting side effects of prescription drugs!

Three months after our return, our church, now renamed ChangePoint, decided to let go of several pastoral staff in order to change to a new paradigm of volunteer counselors operating under a licensed psychologist. The earth gave way beneath our feet! Not qualified for any work besides church ministry, where on earth would we go at this stage of our lives? Our four children now lived in Alaska with us. We moved here to be near them and grandchildren being born here. Without a job or an income, the reality of losing everything again loomed before us. . . .

“When I said, ‘My foot is slipping,” your love, O LORD, supported me. When anxiety was great within in me, your consolation brought joy to my soul.” Psalm 94:18-19

My heart sank as we first walked through the basement apartment in Anchorage—low ceilings, small windows, cigarette butts stacked near the sink from a former occupant, and too small a fit for all our stuff. This would be home if we moved to Alaska. Our son Jami had just bought this duplex and offered us free rent as a way to pay back his college loan. Was this a “coincidental” provision?

Cold and rain typified our entire August visit. God knew my thoughts, anxieties, and longings. He knew I didn’t want a rental again, move our stuff, leave stuff behind, or spend our equity on living expenses. Yet, If we did not move to Alaska… I cringed to think of imposing on relatives until Conrad felt motivated to work again or I completed classes for re-certification to teach. Such terrible fears seized my heart!

The enemy knew the future was hidden from us and took full advantage of our limitations. From the paint box of my own vivid imaginations, he conjured up scenarios of what could happen, and brushed on human reasoning to convince me of a fierce reality before us. Doubt replaced trust. Fear replaced faith. Panic replaced truth.

In the midst of my weakness and unbelief, God called me to repentance. I came to His light and asked Him to make me an overcomer above all else. What glorious promises for those who overcome! (Rev. 2-3) The God of hope once again embraced me in a reality beyond human logic and I surrendered in trust to His sovereign plan and purpose.

We flew back to Salem, Oregon, purchased a 26’ Rider Rental truck, and drove the Alcan back up to Alaska. I still can see those magnificent mountain passes, tranquil lakes, and turquoise rivers winding through deepening autumn foliage—God-splashed color everywhere. Glaciers spilled down from high, rocky cliffs that rose into vast cloud formations—living art by our amazing God! We lumbered through British Columbia, Yukon Territories, and Alaska.

Our journey from Salem to Anchorage finally ended at 1:00am, Friday, 9/9/‘99. Our ’86 GMC truck made one last groan as it cranked up the steep driveway of the clean and welcoming duplex. We crashed on a floor mattress for the night. Suddenly, severe pain ripped through my shoulder! “Oh God, please don’t let me throw up!” I gasped! My shoulder had come out of socket. I turned to use my good arm to lift the other and it miraculously popped back in place. I felt incredible gratitude!

In the following days of unloading, unpacking, arranging, and rearranging that basement apartment, the Lord never left our side. Soon it felt warm, cozy, and familiar. God also made a way where there seemed to be no way in our job search. November 29, Conrad began a part-time job as Resource Center Coordinator at Grace Community Church—certainly reason for a belated Thanksgiving and a joyous Christmas with our kids!

January came in typical Alaskan deep freeze and Conrad left for Men’s retreat at Victory Bible Camp. When he left, he mentioned that his arm hurt. By the time he came home the pain was excruciating! Brachial plexitis again! This time between the pain, strong narcotic drugs (Percocet, Vicodin, Oxycontin), and spiritual warfare, Conrad wondered if he could survive. After two weeks he came into the kitchen looking bewildered and said, “I can’t feel my arm. . . at all.” The virus had killed the nerves in his right shoulder and arm, which hung lifelessly at his side. He then decided to get off his prescription pain meds. . . cold-turkey, and suffered a hellish withdrawal! Slowly the acute stage eased and he continued working at the church in spite of withdrawal related anxiety and emotional weakness.

One desperately cold night as we walked arm-in-arm across the church parking lot, to avoid slipping on the ice, I longed for California. When we entered the church foyer, I happened to look up at the missionary map. There, right above the map, was written, “Lo I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world” Matt. 28:20. This certainly felt like “the end of the world”! Yet at that moment, the Lord said to me, “I am with you even here in the far north. I called you here and I will bless you here.” I believed Him and felt a peace that passed my understanding.

By April the snow began to melt, green things readied to burst out of their tombs, and Conrad went to full-time employment. In June we found a three-bedroom, split level house to buy on Trena Street. Absolutely elated, I used one bedroom as an art studio, classroom to teach art, study, and prayer journal. The house also “happened” to include a Jacuzzi hot tub in a back yard gazebo. The hot moving water miraculously saved Conrad’s arm from “frozen shoulder” and stimulated feeling and movement. That spring the church elders asked Conrad to join the elder board, which he did after careful deliberation.

Standing by a huge bonfire one fall night at a church event, I met Lois who invited me to attend a writer’s group. These connections continued to blossom and led to other opportunities, one of which we called, “Expressions of Grace”—an evening when church artists displayed their work in the auditorium/gym accompanied by a musical ensemble and refreshments. Our theme that year was “Gratitude.” What better theme for me to paint, but gratitude! No longer homeless, childless, or without church or ministry—Here we were in our own home near our children in a vibrant church family and ministry. Even I could not imagine being more grateful!

The year ended with still another gift from God (and Jonathan and Becky) — Abigail—our first grandchild who gave us a whole new identity as grandparents! More blessings and challenges lay ahead. . . .