Welcome to the Joyful Journey!

May you be encouraged as together we find meaning and spiritual insight into the happenings of our world.

Janel R. Brasuell

In the Midst of Trouble

“Though I walk in the midst of trouble, You will revive me.”  Psalm 138:7

Usually I like to write about victories, the after-storm report of how God did a miracle and brought me through.  Those reports are a lot prettier and easier to write and read.  But today, I write in the midst of a personal storm, before the rain has stopped, before the rainbow shows through that I know is there, before the victory is complete.  It’s not easy being here.  There is so much internal noise from multiple fronts being attacked at once.  Have you been there?  Hit by various problems at the same time, worried about friends and family who are struggling, and worst of all, unable to do anything about it.

There has been a peace in this realization, though.  After trying desperately to prevent catastrophe, then fix what I could, I realize that nothing I can do will help this time.  So I have decided to sit back and wait it out.   I know I’ve done what I could.  I feel helpless, though, like I’m trying to stop a flooding river with one sandbag. 

I feel anxiety creep toward me, threatening me to the core of my being.  Instead I reach towards my God who has peace and trust and hope in His hands.  I feel that anxiety will win out, that it’s stronger than these other things, but I know that to be false.  My friend texts me a Scripture to my phone.  I look it up and begin to see rays of sunlight peeking through around the clouds.  This is truth!  God is stronger.  I read Psalm 9:9, 10 and begin to memorize them right there.  I want God’s Word to supersede anything else on my mind right now.  Soon my mouth turns up in a smile and my heart pours forth with praise.  My God knows I feel oppressed.  He knows I’m in trouble.  He knows that I am His and that I trust Him.  He will protect me!  He will provide me a strong place of safety as I ride out the storm where Satan cannot get to me.  David testifies that God has not forsaken anyone who trusts in Him.  I believe Him and am rescued from anxiety.

All day long I recall these verses.  They give me hope and courage as I wait.  Nothing around me has changed, only in me.  My daily routine continues and I wait for a breakthrough.  This one may be long in coming.  I am uncertain about what to expect next, but I am safe.  I can function from a solid foundation and am better prepared to face whatever may come.

Thank You, God!  So many times I sink in self-pity and anxiety, but this time I have the Word firmly planted under my feet.  You keep Your Word!  Thank You, my God for never forsaking me!

God’s Correction

“As many as I love, I rebuke and chasten: be zealous therefore, and repent.”  Revelation 3:19

I’m ashamed to admit it.  Here for all to see.  But I must.  You see my church is putting on a series of evangelistic meetings on the book of Revelation and has invited the community to come learn and become a closer follower of Jesus through the Revelation of Him in this book.  What’s not to like about that?

Boredom.  Self-righteousness.  Creative minds thinking “outside the box.”  Let me explain:  I’ve attended series like this since I was a very small child.  They used to captivate me and draw me close to Jesus.  But as I’ve grown up I’ve questioned the public evangelism methods such as these and become a strong advocate and supporter of friendship evangelism, making friends for Jesus one-on-one.  There have been seminars galore and creative thinkers that have promoted these “newer” methods and found them quite effective.  Perhaps I began to develop an either/or type-of-thinking.  I have been quite skeptical that this post-modern era would not have any interest in attending public meetings with handbills sent out with pictures of beasts.  I even became a bit embarrassed to mention the meetings to my friends because of my prejudices.

Yet wasn’t it just a few months ago that my previous little church held a similar set of meetings and I was in full support, even leading the prayer team?  Or was praying for the meetings partially a cover for my unbelief in this method of evangelism?

A driving spiritual gift of mine is evangelism.  Why wouldn’t I want all to come and be changed by our unique and relevant message for these last days?  Perhaps it’s because I didn’t truly believe the messages were still relevant and would be presented as such.  I didn’t want my friends attending something that would be out-of-touch with their world.  I passed out no handbills.  I invited no friends.  I applauded the prayer walkers I saw in my neighborhood and continued to pray for my neighbors also.  I figured prayer was always a positive thing, no matter the occasion.

I’ve struggled with these notions for some time now, not sure how long.    Just last Sabbath it all came to a head for me.  In trying to sort out my conflicting emotions and ideas about this, I opened up to our hosts at Sabbath dinner.  It was just us, two couples who attend the same church and love the Lord deeply.  All of us have experienced the wonderful Seventh-day Adventist message all our lives.  We have attended many series and have also been involved with other methods of evangelism, including friendship.  We discussed our perspectives about the upcoming series together and our roles in this outreach.  Our church headquarters has set aside 2009 as the “Year of Evangelism” and has asked each church to hold meetings during this year.  Who were we to think we might know better?  Who were we to doubt that Jesus would be uplifted in each message presented?  I hate to admit it, but I voiced my questions and my doubts more adamantly than any of the rest.

That night as I tried to go to sleep I was troubled.  I usually end my day chatting with my Abba Father and interceding for those He brings to my mind.  Something was different that night.  I felt there was a barrier between us.  It was uncomfortable and stiff, like a thick board separating my prayers from Him.  Something wasn’t right.  What was it?  I sought God for answers, as I knew He was trying to get my attention.  With strong authority that I could clearly understand He spoke to my heart that these were His meetings and that I was not to speak against them.

How humbling.  How compelling.  I got up and cleaned up the kitchen as I thought about what He had said.  He was right.  His program was bigger than me.  His plans were larger than my vision.  He had called our speaker to this place, at this time, and who was I to speak against God’s work?  I repented and immediately the barrier was lifted.  Our hearts were reunited again, yet stronger because God had taken the time to graciously correct His child.  He cared enough about me to bring me back in line and keep me from hindering His work in the meantime.

The next day I was able to talk with the wife of the other couple and tell her how God had corrected me.  She told me that her husband woke up that morning and told her that they were going to support the meetings.  Jerry had always been in support, he said, as I shared what God had done in me.

All week I’ve been trying to make up for lost time.  I’ve passed out some handbills, prayed faithfully, and today I even talked to my un-churched neighbor (whom I recently met) about the meetings.  She expressed an interest in hearing the personal testimony of the speaker next weekend.  Who would have thought it?  She’s been coming with me to a moms group at that church but I wouldn’t have normally invited her to a series this soon in our friendship.  Hmmm…God’s plan is bigger!

Tonight was opening night.  It coincided with Andrew’s bedtime but I decided to extend it a little later because I was so excited to see the fruit of my changed heart, prayers, and the efforts of the church at large!!!  I was blessed to see a full house and unfamiliar faces.  Greeters reported many community attendees!  Praise the LORD! 

At one of the tables I stopped by to chat with a friend.  I looked down at the Bible lessons laid out for the attendees.  A quiver went through me as I realized that they were the very same lessons that I had filled out as a 5^th grader when I was home schooled, attending my first Revelation Seminar with my family.  These were the very lessons God had used to prepare me for baptism that next summer.  (I have kept the ruler that came with them in a Bible I used for ongoing study.  It has been a memento all these years later.)  With an open heart I breathed a prayer that others would be touched by these carefully prepared materials as I was.

Tonight I was even invited to join a small prayer team that met before the beginning.  How humbling to join my prayers with those who have been on board with all this all along.  How moving to my spirit to see God’s corrective power in my life.  Makes me want Him to have more and more access to all my life and make me a pliable vessel He can use in all circumstances.

Active Waiting On God

Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for Him.  Psalm 37:7

When I first saw the brochure at my church about the women’s retreat, I felt drawn to it like a magnet.  Each year I look longingly at the flyers and wish I could go.  Money and family obligations have kept me back so far.  This year was no different, except for one thing:  I felt God’s call to go to this retreat.

Now if I’m supposed to do something, especially if it’s God who I feel is prodding me forward, I will do all in my power to get it done.  This time I took a different approach.   There are a lot of factors in my life right now that made me want to wait on God, make sure it was His plan and not my own.  I didn’t want to push myself into something that would be a hardship on my family or our finances.  I’m still nursing Andrew and don’t want to wean him yet.  Pregnancy complications came up in the middle of all this.  While on bed rest (for what was an indefinite amount of time) I thought I would surely not be able to go now.  That was OK with me.  I wanted God’s leading and not my own.  I knew that He could work out the many details and I was determined to let it be what He would have it be.

One by one those details have worked out.   Over the last few months I secured information I would need about the retreat, financial assistance, weaning vs. continuing nursing, etc.   I was released from bed rest.  I obtained a breast pump; Andrew passed his first birthday and is eating solids perfectly well.  Transportation is being provided by church.  Financial assistance from several sources is helping make this feasible.   Then several weeks ago I felt impressed to begin praying for my roommates.  “Oh, so I’m going, Lord?!”  Evidently so, I thought.  It has been fun to pray for them.  God knows who they are and I enjoyed being able to exclaim to one gal, “I’ve been praying for you” when she told me she would be one of them. 

Waiting on God is something that Scripture calls us to do.  It’s viewed as a copout by some and impossible by most.  “In my own power” is the maxim of the world, even subtly in Christian circles.  I haven’t exactly been twiddling my thumbs in this situation of waiting, but I’ve listened as God has directed me to do various things.  What’s made a difference this time is that I’ve been surrendered to the outcome.

One of the best parts of this experience is that I’ve been at peace in this whole process.  I’ve not had to strain and stretch to make this happen.  It’s been a gift all along.  Jesus knows I need this spiritual renewal and rest from my labors with kids and family.  I feel I’ve been given a window before this new baby comes to recharge and get all spiritual cylinders firing again.  Best of all, I know I’m going for a reason.  Not just to be blessed, but to be a blessing.     

When you read this I will already be on the bus headed to the retreat.  I would love for you to pray for God’s presence there, and for the ministry opportunities that await.  If you are reading this after October 11, 2009, you may pray for the people who were here, who experienced God.  Praying for their lives even now is effective!  Prayer is such a wonderful adventure!  I present that adventure to you as I embark on a different one:  my first women’s retreat!

Our Miracle Baby

Tears welled up in our doctor’s eyes this morning as she reviewed the report of the ultrasound I had just taken.  We were stunned to see her emotion.  She’s a no-fluff kind of doctor who tells it like it is.  We appreciate that about her very much.  She’s also compassionate as we have seen many times, like today. 

She reported that there is no sign of the extra fluid that had been part of our earlier complications.  The baby is in the 90^th percentile (size) and showing all signs of health.  With a beaming smile and eyes glistening she listened as I told her how strong I felt inside, how healthy I had been.   At our last visit, Dr. P had made it very clear that she believed that this baby’s life was a miracle.  She had told us that it was a miracle (her word) that 1) I’m doing so well off bed rest, 2) I’m still carrying the baby this long,  and 3) I didn’t lose him back in June when I went to ER with the placenta tear.

There are no words to describe our gratitude to God for gifting us with this precious life.  He didn’t have to do this for us or for Baby Hope.  He could have just let “nature takes its course” as He did with our first baby.  Yet, He has gone to great lengths (from our human perspective) to protect this little one and preserve Him in my womb.  Jerry and I have experienced when God says “no.”  This time He is saying a resounding “YES!”  It’s overwhelming and wonderful.

Many people have prayed for us and this new little boy (very much a boy, acc. to ultrasound!).  Andrew was a prayed-for baby as well.  I write to you today so that you can share in our joy!  God has done marvelous things.  It is wonderful in our eyes.

God has not released us from our prayers, however.  Doctor pointed out that I have an excess amount of amniotic fluid.  She warns me that this could create a situation in which my “water” would break prematurely and I would be on bed rest again, but this time in the hospital.  She assures me that they would not have to take the baby at that point, but would wait as long as they could.  My prayers continue to be that this baby will come in God’s timing.  He’s obviously in charge and knows what is best.  I’m leaving the outcome to Him. 

Friends and readers, there is such a beautiful peace that comes from letting God be Himself!  Through this whole pregnancy process He has been prying my fingers away from my pitiful sense of control.  For most of my life I have lived under a tremendous sense of obligation, worry, and over-involvement in things out of my control.  There is little peace in this day-to-day kind of life.  As an Adventist Christian I have struggled tremendously to live the abundant life Jesus came to bring us (John 10:10).  I recognize what seems like a great chasm between the way I live and the way Jesus lived.  I long for the kind of life that will keep me peaceful while trusting my Savior completely.  Seeing the changes God is working in me keeps me hopeful.  Receiving of His gracious gifts brings me great joy.

Please join me in praising God for His goodness and keep Baby Hope in your prayers as God brings him to your mind. 

Thanks!

Response to “What are we all arguing about?”

Amy  wrote an excellent post on her blog ThisnThat on 9/24/09 called “What are we all arguing about?”  Take time to read it.  My reply became somewhat of a blog.  Here is my response:

Amy,
Well put. Great angle. I have also been viewing this debate for sometime now and it makes me a little ill as well. I appreciate your different, well-balanced perspective on this subject.

There is such a joy and freedom in what God has for us that seems to get missed. Here are some texts that came to mind as I finished reading your post:

“O, how I love Your law!  Psalm 119:97

“For this is the love of God, that we keep His commandments: and His commandments are not grievous.”   1 John 5:3

“For this commandment which I command thee this day, it is not hidden from thee, neither is it far off….But the word is very nigh unto thee, in thy mouth, and in thy heart, that thou mayest do it.” Deut. 30:11, 14

“And they shall teach no more every man his neighbor, and every man his brother, saying, Know the LORD: for they shall all know Me, from the least of them unto the greatest of them, saith the LORD: for I will forgive their iniquity, and I will remember their sin no more.” Jere. 31:34

Looking forward to the day when we won’t have to be cajoled into experiencing abundant life in Jesus!  Maybe He is too! 

Jesus Always Understands

Andrew was having a rough day.  At breakfast he twisted and turned, and pulled his food out of his mouth with such a look of disgust on his usually-sweet face.  Each time I put him on the changing table for a clean diaper, he would yell and fuss, kick and flail his arms though no sign of diaper rash.  Nothing seemed to help him.  His changing table toy went over the edge.  I sang 52 songs, talked sweet, talked strong, added a light corrective touch, made faces, giggled, etc….all the while thinking “I’ve just got to get this dirty diaper off and a new one on as quickly as possible.”  Still he was unhappy. 

The drone of fussing and fuming was the background of the day.  I repeated the above tactics at intervals but to no avail.  Playtime was just as bad.  He wasn’t content to play alone with his toys like he can do sometimes.  Instead, he perched by the ottoman that serves as a gate by the side of his play area close to where I was, whining and complaining, or down-right crying.  Whenever I picked him up to comfort him, he wiggled and squirmed and pulled my hair.  When I set him down, he cried all the more.

Sometimes during the day he would be pointing to this or that or nothing in particular (it seemed) and saying “bah, bah”.  He is successfully using some of the sign we have been teaching him.  Useful mostly at mealtimes.   He’s getting more and more clear about what he wants.  Yet, I was frustrated that I couldn’t understand my baby or help him enjoy himself.  The day was long and tough, for both of us.  My ears were ringing and my face was sad.  I finally called my mom and shared about the day.  What was wrong?  He didn’t seem to be teething.  On Sunday he will be one year old.  We finally decided he might just be expressing frustration in not being able to communicate with us. 

Finally it was bedtime.  One last diaper change and wrangling into PJs.  I gathered Andrew up in my arms, covered him with a blanket and gently rocked him in the rocking chair.  He snuggled up to me and laid his head on my shoulder.  I felt led to tell him a story before he fell asleep.  We prayed for God to guide our thoughts and teach us through the Bible story. 

The story that came to mind was about  Jesus and His friends:  Mary, Martha, Lazarus.  I told him how special it was that Jesus had such friends, how He could rest in their home.  I told him that Lazarus became sick and messengers were sent to Jesus to come make him well.  But Jesus did not come.  This surprised his disciples and the messengers.  But Jesus assured them that God had a good reason for what He wanted Him to do.  I told Andrew that Jesus was not always understood either.  I described Jesus coming finally and raising Lazarus and of his prayer to His Father.  God was glorified in this miracle.

I told how “Jesus wept.”  I said there were many reasons Jesus cried that day, but one was that he understood us.  Even if Mommy and Daddy or Eric or anyone else around him didn’t, my baby needed to know Jesus always understands.  I realized this was the message from God for us today.  With a calm spirit, Andrew went down in his crib for the night.  Mommy went to bed with a calmer spirit too, thankful that God had brought a story to mind to fit the need of the day.

I enjoy telling Bible stories to my babies.  All those stories that I grew up hearing are coming back to me, coming out in interesting paraphrase and with varied emphasis.  Each time, God shows a message for both of us.  If you have little ones at home or near you, try telling them a story about Jesus or another favorite Bible story.  It’s a beautiful experience.  It doesn’t have to be word-for-word KJV.  Bring into it what God has taught you.  You might be surprised to even learn something new:  that’s the Holy Spirit working.  I’m learning so much right along with Andrew.   Jesus always understands!

During the Days of Jesus…

               “During the days of Jesus’ life on earth,

He offered up prayers and petitions with loud cries and tears to the One

             who could save Him from death,

and He was heard because of His reverent submission.

Although He was a Son, He learned obedience from what He suffered

and, once made perfect, He became the source of eternal salvation

for all who obey Him.” 

Hebrews 5:7-9

This is Scripture!  I think I have overlooked this many times, this insight into Jesus’ life on earth.  This text has rocked my world!  I need to know that Jesus does not judge me for my tears and agony.  I need to know that Jesus understands!  He knew where to take His cries.  He knew Who could help Him.  He learned obedience and walked perfectly with his Father God because of the lessons that suffering taught Him.

Recently, during my days of internment , I had the privilege of rereading a Christian classic:  Hinds’ Feet In High Places by Hannah Hurnard.  It’s an allegory about the Christian life that I highly recommend.  I so relate to little “Much Afraid” and all her “Fearing” relatives.  I relate to the absolute love of the “Chief Shepherd” and have also answered His call to go to the “High Places” with Him.  But when He gave Much Afraid companions who would help her on her journey there I cringed with her as they were “Sorrow” and “Suffering.”

Where do we get the idea in the Christian life that accepting Jesus leads to a life of continual bliss and that suffering is somehow contrary to that life and must be fought instead of embraced?  I read a plaque today that said, “Faith makes things possible…not easy.”  How true.  Much Afraid was strengthened in her journey only as she took her companions’ hands and allowed them to lead her through the rough areas on the path.  Oh, how sobering.  How difficult.

Yet she was not left alone.  The Chief Shepherd ALWAYS responded immediately when she called for Him.  He came bounding along the hills with His hinds’ feet (see Hab. 3:19 and Song of Sol. 2:8).  He rescued her from many temptations and was a welcome presence throughout the journey.  This is my hope, what gets me through on this often-difficult journey down here:  God’s presence near me ALWAYS.  His promise to “never leave me nor forsake me” has sustained me.  When the way seems to dead-end, He whispers the reminder: “I am with you always, even to the end of the world.” 

Oh, I refuse the lessons of suffering so often.  I reject the notion that I must suffer here.  I whine and complain and toss around my floating thoughts on the subject to anyone who will listen, as if by talking, suffering will be driven away.  I hate that about me.  But Jesus doesn’t reject me for it!  He points me to a purpose and a plan.  He shows me that He went this way too and knows that our Father God is the one to take it all to, the One who can do something about it.  He teaches me that reverent submission.  He is now fit to be my Savior.  I love Him so! 

It helps so much to have Jesus’ example of taking His feelings to the One (His Father) Who could deliver.  He still delivers today.  My feelings have been quite strong lately, thanks to a tremendous amount of pregnancy hormones and some challenging situations.  I weep alone sometimes.  God is coaching me in an exercise of releasing those feelings to my heavenly Father.  I have started to experience peace in place of deep hurt, which has kept me from snowballing into self-pity, bitterness, etc. 

Someday our weeping will cease and our feelings will be permanently replaced, just like in the story: Sorrow and Suffering were transformed to Joy and Peace when they arrived at the High Places.  Much Afraid got a new name too.  We’ve been promised that “weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.”  God will give us beauty instead of ashes; joy will replace mourning.  It will not always be as it is now.  Until then we can journey forward, knowing that a Faithful Friend walks with us, His tears mingle with ours, and His peace begins to spread about in our hearts.

Transition Time

My family and I are in transition.  We’ve been here before.  Not my favorite place.  It’s a place that reminds me of a new fawn trying to find her legs or a gangly teenager with an armful of books headed to his locker. 

We have recently transferred our church membership from a small church in our city to the big church because my husband will be involved in a new ministry endeavor there.  We are not going to unfamiliar surroundings as we have been members here before, yet many things have changed in the last 6 years or so.  Some people are familiar and greet us with friendliness.  The sheer mass of people is overwhelming.  In Andrew’s Sabbath school parents sit on little chairs behind babies in tinier chairs, nestled tightly beside each other.  I’m not used to so many people in one place.  Yet, their eager faces and little wobbly legs going back and forth to the front are inspiring to see.  Parents look expectantly to see the joy on their faces as they discover something new about the world Jesus made for them.  When I think of other denominations that have nursery class for their babies, resembling daycare, I am thankful for the creativity and intentional ministry of our teachers who bring an age-appropriate and fun learning environment for the very youngest in our congregation.

OK, so I’m trying to be positive about the good I see even when I’m still struggling deeply with this move.  Our former church has become home to me over the last 6-7 years.  There’s a certain sense of adventure that comes from being a part of small church.  Leadership opportunities abound.  Responsibilities multiply on the willing.  Politics show up liberally.  Ministry happens in amazing ways there.  It’s hands-on, grass-roots, in the trenches, etc.  We’ve been through three pastors in that time period and significant challenges as our church has grown spiritually and numerically.  We’ve ridden wave after wave.  Front-line ministry at its best.\

These people have grown on me.  At first I saw them as a whole, as a motley group of people with many problems.  There were blind, deaf, multiple nationalities, varied socio-economic statuses, mental and physical handicaps, old, young and in between.  It’s the church I would expect find Jesus in if He came in the flesh today, similar to the people He surrounded Himself with during His ministry.  At first I felt aloof from them, going to serve toward them.  It didn’t take long, however, to discover I was one of them, in just as much need for the Master’s touch.

Now instead of a group they have names.  Each one has become a part of my journey in some way.  Some have become closer than others: praying with me, sharing a hug, helping me care for Andrew during my recent bed rest, teaching me to be a more effective leader for Jesus.  Others have been what I like to call “God’s sandpaper.”  They haven’t been easy to love, not easy to interact with or work with, but they have been important in smoothing out my character.  God has used them mightily and given me a love and appreciation for them that can only come from Him. 

Church has been an intricate tapestry for me.  It’s not been simple.  Very little pew warming going on!  Sometimes we longed for days we could get up and go to church, sit down, sing, smile at a few people and go home.  For me, at least, those days seem to be here again.  A time to get lost in the crowd, to sit and soak.  Guess that’s not all bad either.  I have a new front-line ministry with two little babies and a 5^th grader to raise for Jesus.   My focus is closer to home now.  Who knows how much He wants me involved in church ministry besides?  God knows my passions and dreams.  He created me with purpose.  I’m content to let Him use me how He desires. 

Saying “good bye” to my old church was easier for me because we’re not leaving because of anything that happened to us, no hurt feelings, or major issues forcing us out.  We’re going to somewhere instead.  What a nice way to leave.  Open doors and open hearts, just across town, ready for a friendly visit any time.  Our last few Sabbaths were bathed in loving words and hugs and even a promise from our faithful prayer warrior.  She assured me she would pray for us as long as she lived.  There were some reluctant comments as our names were read for transfer.  People were actually sorry to see us go.  That felt good.  It felt like we had made a difference during our journey with them.  God had called us to intentional ministry with His children there.  Now He is calling us to another territory.

So now I’m embarking on a new phase in our lives.  There is awkwardness pervasive in every step I take in our new church.  Even some of the songs are unfamiliar.  I stumbled through them this morning as I sat next to a friend in one of the back rows.  I do like learning new songs, but even those felt like a symbol of my situation.  Nevertheless, my heart lifted in praise to my God and I was so thankful to be able to participate in corporate worship with fellow believers.

After 8 weeks on bed rest, I really value the ability to be present in worship with other believers.  Watching church was not the same as being in church and raising our voices together to our wonderful God!  Last week I remember sitting there almost trembling with JOY as we sang to Jesus. 

You know, perhaps that’s part of the point.  Our sermon this Sabbath challenged us to think about why we are Adventists.  Why be an Adventist?  Why go to church?  What makes our message distinctive?  What’s the point of all this anyway?

Perhaps I’m being tangential by bringing up another topic in this post about transition, but it’s helpful for me to remember why I’m in transition.  It’s not just something happening to me, “Poor me, something more I have to deal with.”  NO!  This is a call to ministry!  Though Jerry has a primary call to a specific position, I am also a church member with a commission.  It’s not about whether I like the people I go to church with (God already proved that can change!).  It’s not about whether I know the songs I’m singing.  It’s not even about whether I feel crowded in Sabbath school or lost among a sea of people.  No!  None of that!  Church is about ministry.  Ministry happens at church, but isn’t it mainly meant to be a recharge facility to get the marching orders for the week?   As we live our lives outside church we take the good news of God’s love and soon return to restore us fully to Himself and rid us of sin and Satan forever. 

I want others to experience the rich tapestry of God’s love and forgiveness, His plan for their lives, which includes His soon return.  I am excited to be part of a movement that is relevant today.  I must trust that God will use my circumstances to put me in contact with those with whom He is trying to share His good news.  Whether these people are my little boys or their doctors or the grocery store clerks, may I share my Savior with all.  My ministry is not over, a new phase has just begun.  Isn’t it a thrilling adventure to be an Adventist?!

My Child, Trust In Me.

My child, trust in Me. 

Loneliness, confusion, and brokenness have been My companions also. 

My heart was prepared so that today, when you called My name,

I would remember and understand.

                Author Unknown

These words first brought me encouragement when I was a preteen.  I won a poster at campmeeting for some small achievement.  It pictured a teen with his head in his hands, leaning against a row of lockers.  The colors were greys and blacks.  The only light streamed in from double doors illuminating the shiny, institutional floors leading to the boy.  In white letters, the message appeared beneath him. 

The poster hung in my bedroom throughout my tumultuous teen years.  Whenever I felt discouraged and was going through a difficult time, these words would be like a balm to my broken heart.  I knew Jesus had been through so much when He lived on earth.  I knew He understood my TODAY.  Whatever I was going through that day, I drew courage from knowing that Jesus wanted me to tell Him all about it.

I read the poster so much that the words and their truth are ingrained in me. What comfort Jesus’ life on earth, and His personal interest in me, has been in my life.  Though I’m past what seemed to be the worst part of my life, I’ve continue to gain strength from talking to Jesus about my todays.  He is so compassionate.  He knows and loves me.  He is a patient listener and He’s capable of taking care of things.  After all, He says “Trust in Me.”  So I learn to trust Him to see me through the dark times, knowing He has been through them too and came through victorious.  So can I.

What troubles you today?  It’s OK to trust Him.  He’s listening for you.

Bed Rest and Heavenly Bliss: Spades vs. Pillows

“They shall plant vineyards and eat their fruit…They shall not plant and another eat; For as the days of a tree so shall be the days of My people, and My elect shall long enjoy the work of their hands.”  Isaiah 66:21, 22

For the past four weeks I have been on bed rest, lying prone day and night except for brief, necessary excursions.  My doctor and I are trying to protect the life of a new little baby growing inside me.  She believes the need for bed rest could continue for a long time, perhaps the duration of my pregnancy, about four more months.  In the grand length of a life, this is not a real long time, but right now it seems quite formidable.

There have been many times in my life that I have been SO tired.  I longed for lengthy rest times.  Often my body would succumb and I would end up sick in bed, but not for this long.

In those tired times I’ve thought about Heaven.  I didn’t mind the idea of sitting on a cloud and playing a harp for all eternity.  In fact sometimes I’ve been rather put out with the idea of “no night there” and that we will plant vineyards and do other useful work.  In my mind I thought maybe Jesus would understand if I stay back in my city home and take a nap while others do the planting.  Yes, I’ve been that tired in my life to think such things.

But God is so gracious in bringing me new insight.  During these weeks my body has felt like a wound-up spring.  I’ve had to force myself to stillness and remind myself not to pick Andrew up when he cries, not to fold that load of laundry that needs to come out of the dryer, not to cook supper for my family, not to water my morning glories or deadhead all my petunias.  I’ve stopped myself from (enjoyable) useful labor in favor of lying flat and staying calm and serene.  For the baby, I remind myself.

Tonight the thought occurred to me:  I’m glad Heaven isn’t like this.  This is not bliss, as I once imagined.  Useful labor for the Master is far better to me than doing nothing for all eternity. 

So I’ve changed my mind.  I’m going to ask Jesus for my golden spade when I get There!

Thanks, Lord, for this new understanding, and for the precious time You’re giving me while on bed rest, learning from You.