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. . . .

(Summer 1999–Prayer Journaling while “Homeless in Seattle”)

Dear LORD Shepherd,
Hunger gnaws as I attempt to shed a few pounds instead of gaining them during these weeks of inactivity in motels. It is quiet here with no one to talk to but You. My eyes scan this room: Scratched nightstands hold orange, sixties-something lamps on both sides of this large bed. I lean against a faded orange vinyl headboard. A television sits on top of a dark bureau. Two vinyl chairs address a small, scuffed table. An ironing board waits against a blank wall for my husband’s white shirts. I no longer smell the old-motel-odor that greeted us when we first arrived because I since amalgamated with it. Engines rumble outside and traffic lights flash. An airplane roars overhead. Commercial buildings break the horizon.

I shall not want? But, I DO want! I want a steak dinner with dessert. I want my own beautiful home—a two-story in the country, complete with guest rooms and a fireplace. I want a home near our children, grandchildren, friends, and relatives. I want my husband home in the evenings, content in his work and ministry. I want to write books and have them published. The things I shall NOT want are debts, worries, sickness, loss, homelessness, and loneliness.

I stand before You, Shepherd of my life, and give all my wants to You. I need not cling to or insist upon having them. You are God. You are love. You are wise. I remember the story of a small child trying to quote the 23rd Psalm,“The Lord is my shepherd, that’s all I want.” Oh to have the faith of a child! Oh to be so completely satisfied in You that I too could so beautifully misquote this verse and say, You are all I want. I know Your love and presence are enough. “Lord, I believe. Help Thou my unbelief.”
. . .
LORD, we certainly aren’t lying down in “green pastures” right now—separated from our children, homeless, and out of our ministry vocation. How I pray this gypsy life-style will soon end. Please bring us home to our family, a church, and a house of our own. I can’t know the future. I have no assurance of how it will all turn out, or what You will do about it. But LORD, in the meantime maybe I can just lie down in Your peaceful presence. That will be enough. Maybe that is where You intended for me to lie down all along—simply resting in You. There is no place of greater safety.

“He leads me.” You don’t push. You don’t shove. You don’t even pull. Actually, there is someone I wouldn’t mind if You would push a little sometimes. He is about five foot ten, one hundred and sixty pounds, gray hair and beard. Know him? I’ve known him for the last thirty years, and let me tell You, I really think he could at least use a nudge in the right direction. I know I’m usually “chomping at the bit,” and I know this life partner You graced me with has protected me time and again from acting too quickly, too rashly. Yet this time, surely this time, You could work on speeding him up to make a decision on what to do.

It isn’t that I mind these days alone with You, or the writing I so love to do, but what kind of reputation do vagabonds have? People we know, who surely watch for the outcome of this drama, may think you abandoned us. What about the imposition this puts on our relatives who store our stuff? Yet, You gently lead. Your sheep know Your voice so You don’t have to push them, You simply call them and they follow.
. . .
I had precious little sleep last night. A bunch of drunks sang karaoke at the bar until after 2:00 a.m. from the restaurant next door to this motel room. Then at 5:30 a.m. the recycling truck backed under our second story window to collect a seemingly endless supply of bottles and cans, not to mention the loading devices grinding and whining. Just when those irritations finally faded into the distance, and I clung desperately to the hope of miraculously falling back to sleep, a garbage truck came to collect a week’s supply of motel and restaurant garbage!

Thank You for meeting me in those early morning hours and refreshing my spirit in Your Word. “Your compassions fail not. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness!” Lam. 3:22-23. Yet now with the growing darkness of another night comes an even greater weariness. In spite of my early morning joy, the burdens feel heavier and seemingly insurmountable mountains loom on the horizon. Tonight my husband shook his head and whispered, “I’m not doing well.” I knew what that meant. The shadow of depression is on him again—stealing the hope that life will ever change. It’s been ten months since our little church had to close its doors and he remains a displaced pastor. My heart sinks and my own faith is tested again.

Your sweet Spirit reminds me not to doubt in the darkness what You showed me in the light. You remind me that Your promise to care for us and go before us has not changed one pinch! When my soul is too weary to go on and the night is too dark to see what to do,“You will guide me with Your counsel, and afterward receive me to glory” Psa. 73:24. You reprogram my heart and mind. I choose to trust You and once again You restore my soul!
. . .
Today is the last day of our on-the-road job. Last night was the last night of living in a motel. Tomorrow we fly to Alaska for a month to visit our children and check out the job market. This is a time to celebrate! You blessed me these past weeks of homelessness in many unforeseen ways. You created a banquet of provision right in the middle of trouble and hardship. As I passed through the Valley of Weeping, You showed me how to make it a place of springs and You covered it with blessings as plentiful as the autumn rains (Psa. 84:6).

“Living on the road” we could rest from all the stress of selling our home, packing, moving, storing our stuff, and the adjustment of an empty nest. While in motels and enduring frozen dinners, there was no house cleaning, planning or preparing meals, or entertaining house guests, and I even lost unneeded pounds. During this time I spent many hours alone with You and in Your Word—uninterrupted time!

You inspired me to make this valley a place of springs. This normally arid place blossomed and became a fruitful time to write devotionals. I’m amazed as I look back at Your plan and purpose in using such a difficult place for so much blessing. I could not have imagined it!

I am ready to move on, but as long as You kept us in this situation, You provided more than strength to endure. You set a banquet before me in the presence of the enemies of insecurity, joblessness, homelessness, and purposelessness. Even though we cannot understand our circumstances, I acknowledge Your hand of love, power, and wisdom to make our paths straight. You are our loving, lavish Provider in the most unexpected places!

We left the desert of central Washington in January of ’97. A call from a tiny group in Seattle that appeared as a viable church plant, came in answer to our prayers. At this point in our lives, it also seemed timely and wise to buy our own home. The two elders, unsure of the church’s survival, did not recommend this investment. However, my dad agreed with us and gave us $3,000 down payment on an 1200 sq. ft. repossessed house in Wilderness Rim. We nearly panicked when unforeseen closing costs exceeded our resources. However, God answered our prayer for wisdom. By selling our little Festiva to Charissa, who borrowed from Jonathan, we amazingly became home owners for the first time.

With change, also comes loss. Charissa, a senior in high school, went to live with Dr. Riley, his wife, and five children in Grandview until she graduated in spring. Joel moved with us in the middle of his junior year and enrolled at Mt. Si High and Seattle Community College in the Running Start program. As church secretary, I accompanied Conrad the twenty-five miles into Sammamish every day, which left Joel to come home from school to an empty house. Becoming an only child was painful enough, now loneliness and depression pressed into his heart. The first day, he got off at the wrong street in our forested area of winding roads and wandered through the cold, drenching January rain for a couple hours before finally finding “home”.

In the meantime, down in Texas, Jami fell in love with a beautiful, tall, farm girl from Illinois. In March, by the good graces and air-miles from our church people, we flew to Mt. Morris, Illinois to attend Jami and Kristy’s wedding. That fall Charissa entered Seattle Pacific University. We did not have the finances to help our children with college tuition, but encouraged them to “choose the best and let God do the rest.” God again proved faithful. He gave them motivation to work for good grades, scholarships, jobs, and choose financially profitable careers to pay back school loans.

When Jonathan graduated in spring of ’98 with his AA degree in Airframe and Powerplant, he and Becky moved to Anchorage, Alaska. A few weeks later, with an engineering degree, Jami and Kristy also moved to Anchorage. Both boys gained employment at Aero Twin on Merrill Field where Jonathan became lead mechanic and Jami did engineering. Their childhood years in the near frigid zone of Saskatchewan somehow left a positive imprint in their minds. Alaska was the last frontier and they were young and full of adventure. At one point the CBA director told us of a church we could interim in North Pole, Alaska. That suggestion felt like they wanted to send us to Siberia!

Sammamish Church seemed a much better option. However, we met in a double-wide, leaky trailer in the middle of Microsoft mansions. This remnant of a split had left a small group of tired loyalists. We sadly realized we could not build a new work on a split foundation. In January, a year after our arrival, we drove up to a camp near Lynden to seek God’s will. As we knelt before Him, we became aware of the words and music coming from our CD player:

God will make a way where there seems to be no way. He works in ways we cannot see. God will make a way for me. He will be my guide, hold me closely to His side. With love and strength for each new day, God will make a way. By a roadway through the wilderness He leads me. Water in the desert I will see. Heaven and earth will fade, but His word will still remain. God will do something new today…. (by Don Moen)

That spring, Conrad’s mother passed away of Alzheimer’s in Portland and we drove to Fresno for her funeral. In August, we flew to Alaska for vacation and attended the large, growing Grace Community Church in Anchorage where we saw people respond to His call to become transformed followers of Jesus Christ. Conrad also met Pastor Keith Lauwers who reached out to him at a pastors’ luncheon.

Back in Seattle, God gave Conrad wisdom to take our church through the process of seeing for themselves that God had better things in mind for them. He endeavored to facilitate reconciliation between the original factions and encouraged the people to relocate into healthy churches. Sammamish church closed that fall.

Several ministry opportunities presented themselves to us, but Conrad’s motivation had met its end. He decided to work with Olan Mills Portrait sales again, but income fell short of expenses. By April of ’99, God miraculously sold our home with good equity so we did’t lose it. We stayed with my sister Karen and her family in Salem, Oregon, and stored our belongings.

Still in high school, Joel moved in with a family from our church. After graduation in May, he flew up to Anchorage to join his brothers working at Aero Twin for the summer and lived with Jami and Kristy in Jonathan’s duplex. In August he flew back to Portland, loaded his ’66 pick-up, and drove to Letourneau University. On the way he saw smoke in his rear-view mirrors! The overheated muffler ignited the wooden floor boards in his truck box! He, and another LeTourneau traveler, used a fire extinguisher, purchased the night before, and ice from his cooler to put the fire out before he lost everything. No one ever stole his burnt bicycle. Amazing!

When not at my sister’s, I lived in motels with Conrad as he continued with Olan Mills in the Seattle/Tacoma area. Homeless, without children, a church, or a ministry, darkness closed in upon us. Except, Psalm 18:28 says, “You, LORD, keep my lamp burning; my God turns my darkness into light.” God graciously gave me this gift of time to seek Him, to write, and to prayer journal. . . .

Though Noah floated in the dead center of God’s will, a very long, dark, damp, and very smelly year at sea followed. And the animals were not smiling in spite of Sunday School graphics. Just because we obey God, doesn’t mean an easy, comfortable life follows. Satan says, “Just keep the peace, compromise, and I will give you the world!” Deep down we knew we had not compromised our convictions for a church paycheck. Jesus said, “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world” Jhn. 16:33. Hebrews tells us, “God disciplines us for our good, in order that we may share in his holiness” Heb. 12:10.

After Conrad put his name into the CBA office, a small church in Washington asked us to candidate. Nearly the whole church joined the search committee, and we sat in a large circle for questioning. The Yakima area is covered with vineyards so someone asked if we drank wine. We answered that we had on occasion. The questioner’s brother was an alcoholic, so if the church called us, they wouldn’t attend. The rest still voted for us to come. Of all people, they billeted us to stay overnight with the dissenting couple. I wanted to die and go to heaven, but no, I had to follow through. They were nice enough, but we never saw them again.

We packed and cleaned up our little bungalow. With a last glance at those empty rooms filled with memories, longing, and heartache, I said my goodbye. We drove into Grandview where a rental home, sight unseen, awaited us. I walked into an amazing, 3200 sq. ft., four bedroom, two story home. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked a broad orchard-filled valley and Horse Heaven Hills. It felt like heaven! I thanked God for this house everyday for the next six years. It felt so big after Haley House, we all slept in a corner of the living room that first night.

Conrad once again uncompromisingly preached the Word, and the enemy, entrenched in bitter hearts, crawled out of hiding. One year later the board called Conrad into the church office after his Sunday message and asked him to resign. When he asked why, they said they heard he had been in counseling for manipulation and lying. When asked the source of this information, each board member turned to another one until the question rested on one. This one said he heard it from the former pastor, who heard it from someone in the CBA office, whom we had never personally met.

Conrad called the CBA directors together with the former pastor. Our Christian counselor sent a letter stating, “These accusations could not be farther from the truth. One of Conrad’s greatest attributes is his integrity.” Things were set back in order. Three months later a woman in the church invited church members to her home to “lynch” the pastor under the auspices of an auditing meeting. Discovering this undercurrent, and battling tension headaches, Conrad resigned.

Part-time work became available here and there until a janitorial job opened at a Christian school. When a job to sell portraits in churches opened, Conrad took it. This job required traveling throughout the Pacific Northwest, which wore on our marriage and children. One weekend, after two years on the road, he decided to quit rather than continue to face the mounting temptations of a traveler. The very day he arrived home and said he quit his job, I told him Sam Jaramillo had just asked for him to join his insurance business. God rewards faith! I worked as secretary for a United Methodist church for two years, and then at Grandview Grace for another two. Charissa nannied three little children and Joel did yard work for our neighbors.

During this whole time, God exonerated us in our small town through our children. What a joy for Conrad to baptize Joel at Grandview Grace and hear Jonathan publicly pray for Joel at his baptism. After his graduation in ’92, Jonathan moved to Portland to live with Conrad’s sister and attend Mount Hood College for an AA degree in Forestry.

We rejoiced over Jami’s wrestling victories, including an all-star Russian team featured on the evening news. He also qualified for the state wrestling championship, and became the first Student of the Month featured on a half page in the newspaper. After his graduation in ’93, he headed to LeTourneau University in Longview, Texas.

Charissa won the title of Grandview Junior Miss and received all five judges awards. We never realized her public performance gift until we saw her completely at ease on stage—so like her daddy! When we first moved to Grandview, girls threw stones at her and mocked her. God’s “poetic justice” gave her this title because, “ Those who honor Me I will honor” 1 Sam. 2:30.

Joel did some football, wrestling, tennis, and played a silver trumpet. This agricultural area brought in many migrant workers. The Hispanic population in the schools registered about ninety percent. Hispanic boys mature physically earlier and Joel suffered legitimate fears of gangs and bully intimidations. Also, as the youngest of four siblings, he felt the loss as each sibling left the nest.

We continued to attend Grandview Grace and led a college and career Bible study. Hosting their Christmas party in ’94, I noted Jonathan and Becky Mead playing Balderdash together. I intuitively knew something would come of this. December 29 of ’95 Jonathan and Becky married. That fall, they moved to Vancouver, Washington, where Jonathan earned his AA degree in Airframe and Power Plant while Becky taught school.

One day Conrad came home from selling insurance and shared about a client who loved his job. His own heart cried out for this joy. Realizing God stirring our hearts, we bowed to ask once again for full-time ministry. God answered and led us west. . . .

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make you paths straight.” Proverbs 3:5-6