Hola! from the absentee blogger...

Holy smokes..I wonder if anyone will even read this. It's been FOR.E.VER. I wish I had a really good explanation for my lack of blogging, but sadly there is none. I just didn't feel like it!
So much has happened since my last post, and really it was just a lot all at once and I just didn't feel like adding a blog to the mix. BUT! I'm getting back into my groove (for now) and want to update you guys!

So...where to start..here's a pic of me and my crew..yes the angle makes Reagan's head look super long and she might also have some snot in this shot..sigh. some of you are saying uh Soph we know some pretty awesome news you need to share...for those of you who might not know what I'm alluding to...

BAM! that my friends is a very cheesy photo (HA!) of my 24 week baby bump! and its full of this little guy

yup. got an alien in there. juuust kidding, but it is indeed a little mister. I'll hafta tell you the story about the day I found out. Its pretty sweet...some other day though.

I've had a phone with a cracked screen for six months now, our contract was pretty much up and getting a new phone would mean renewing a 2 year contract, because obviously, our commercial industry is full of weird socialist Nazi's who want your soul. ahem..sorry. But seriously, we just didn't want to do the contract route. Unfortunately, its a really tempting option when you realize that with our quickly advancing technology, an iPhone 3 is now free with a contract. free. i'm serious. because they're like, sooo outdated now.

So my amazing husband, got me an iPhone. Its like finding the long lost best friend I never knew I needed. Its pretty bad. I have an addiction. I mean c'mon! Have you seen how many FREE apps there are?!? its amazing! oh brave new world indeed....

So, with this addiction I have also discovered my phone has a pretty rockin' camera, and instagram has really rocked my world...here's some pictures of the lil' monsters.

This last one of Emry makes me smile. she is so her daddy's girl; if you know John at all, this is a classic John foley face. She was making weird faces and I asked her to just smile normal, and this is the reaction I got. classic.

Pretty cute pictures eh?

Oh! and if you have an iPhone, look up the voxer app. Its pretty much the greatest thing to happen to me. It turns your phone into a walkie-talkie. Am I stuck in fifth grade? possibly. Buts its totally rad dude. 

I spend too much time talking with this crazy...

ha! oh I love you Aly...voxing with you is like my morning cup of coffee. from starbucks of course.

okay..well...hopefully I'll blog more soon, we start revival with Chris aulson next week, and all hell has broken loose on our family, church families etc...its been pretty astounding to tell the truth. This revival must pack some pretty serious punch, because as Sam Rice says, I can tell God is real by how very real the devil is in my life. so true.

Pray for us! and pray for my mum...her mama has been diagnosed with an untreatable, malignant brain tumor and suddenly we only have a few months left with her. I will be traveling to San Diego to say goodbye..which hurts my heart so much. But I will save that for another post.

someone comment please!!! let me know you still believe in me!!!

Orange poppies

For every pioneering pastor's wife...or lonely sad mama...go here, read this.

The Glory of God was here.

Miracles are a retelling in small letters of the very same story which is written across the whole world in letters too large for some of us to see.
C. S. Lewis 


On Saturday, we had a magic show at bidwell one mile park, the central park in our town. It was a magic show, a gospel illusionist at his finest. We spent the day with the dear people from Oroville and their pastor, the gentlemen from Medford and the couple from Eugene that came with Jed and Elaine Matthews...it was hot. like 102 degrees hot. They labored all day, inviting out the town...John went with them, I ran around town gathering all we would need for the event that night. 
As it came down to the last few hours, we began to set up, no one was there yet and if you've done this before, you know that weird knot that forms in your tummy, that ugly scared voice that says, "what if no one comes?". You push it aside and trust God that your labor was not in vain and you begin to set up the harvest field.
The stage was set, the hot dogs were starting to cook...the team was exhausted and hot, sweating and hopeful...hopeful for God's glory to be poured out...and dear God, you are so good...it really did.


300(approx) came and watched our humble show, they packed into our sitting area, they stood and watched and they listened with hearts that were so open to the gospel, that at the end, 47 came to the very front and gave their lives to Jesus openly for everyone to see. 
It was breathtaking. I literally had to catch my breath and thank God for such a sweet, confirming miracle...

look at that sweet baby in that wonderful man's arms...watching in sweet innocence as souls are added to the kingdom of God and heaven begins to rejoice...

The struggle of a mother in a feminist world

I have hesitated to write anymore because of one person's criticism, but I'm going to continue because I just well...need to. Is that a bit indulgent? Yes. Alas, I am indeed human, and a young one. So off I go.
This post will be a sad one. Just a warning.
This last year has been the most trying on my self as a mother. There have been the spiritual doubts, those absolutely come up a close second. And there have been the burdens of carrying a church in your heart, and the loneliness of living away from friends and family...but the one thing that has made me want to pack up and head back to Mac, have been the pains of struggling through motherhood alone.
This has been an incredible learning experience for me. Such a hard learned lesson of myself as a human being. When did I get so anxious and overwhelmed? When did I turn into such a tired, angry, nagging woman? Was I always so short tempered and type A? Well...to be fair, I think the answer to all of those is, I have always had those tendencies in my personality. I've always been a bit too short tempered, too type A. Easily overwhelmed and prone to anxiety.I've never slept well or enough and I have always been unrelenting when I want my way. Whoa...am I female or WHAT?! ha ha ha...
But those characteristics were small shadows, whispering demons if you will, that once pressed to capacity became shouting, roaring dragons that threatened me...and my kids..and our ministry (read Johns sanity)
     Back in McMinnville I struggled with being a mother. I was thinking back trying to remember if this all started in Chico, and it did not.
I want to give a quick flash of how young I was when I became a mother, and the crazy  escalation my life has been on. I was eighteen when I got married, nineteen when I had Mailey, and twenty the week I found out I was pregnant with Emry. I found out on a Tuesday, and Friday we were announced as McMinnville's newest outreach directors, that following Monday I began to hemorrhage badly and was told I would lose the baby, I went under and woke up several hours later to hear I was indeed still pregnant and would recover from massive internal bleeding. Seven months later I was being prepped for an emergency C-section. 17 months later we were being announced into Chico and I was just realizing I was pregnant yet again. We moved to Chico and four months later had little Reagan via Cesarean. Three months after that we had our first revival; and that Wednesday I began to miscarry a baby I had not come to terms with yet. The guilt that followed the relief was overwhelming and scary, and I slipped into a depression I didn't realize had engulfed me.
I have known several people who have had miscarriages, my own best friend has had three and my mother as well. I've been an outside observer on the painful process of losing one's baby. But this caught me completely off guard.
I knew I was miscarrying right away, and as awful as it sounds, I was immediately relieved. It was horrifying. I couldn't understand my emotions. I was in shock looking back; but then, I was just so overwhelmed at the thought of being pregnant so soon after our third baby (she was only 12 weeks old) and still postpartum and emotional, and so I at first felt an odd, painful relief. And this relief created an enormous aching confusion and guilt, and as days turned into two weeks of miscarrying I started to shut down. I never cried, rarely spoke about it, just dealt with it all so privately. I didn't even tell my mother until it was completely over. But I felt like I was being crushed under a suffocating weight.
Finally several weeks later, I was driving alone in John's truck, it was night time and I had the windows down and Ingrid Michaelson was booming out of the speakers as loud as I could get it, I remember the bass feeling like my heartbeat it was so tangibly loud. And as Ingrid sang, "someday in the future, you're gonna come back...you're gonna come back to me..." it really hit me. I lost a baby. A baby. It was like that heavy thought triggered this flashback of the last few weeks and it all caught up to me, as if I'd been living a few steps ahead of my emotions, but suddenly they had all caught up and were looking into the mirror with me. I suspect every mother who miscarries has done this, but I began to figure out my due date, and wonder what this child would've been, a boy? a girl? another red head? a dimpled hard headed toddler who could've grown up to change the world? all these thoughts and emotions until finally those wonderful tears came. Just water flowing down my face, I still was absorbing it all...and my heart began to ache and ache and I remember feeling so angry and defeated.
Surely this wasn't God's plan? Had I somehow caused this by my unhappiness at my pregnancy? Had my ugly emotions caused my body to abruptly end this pregnancy? It was all too much, and I remember closing my eyes (I'm driving about 65 down the freeway at this point) and just screaming until my throat ached and all the air went out of my lungs, probably only 10 seconds; but when I couldn't scream any longer, I opened my eyes and lo an behold, I was still in the right lane going in a straight line and I suddenly felt okay. Like I needed to just really deal with it all. And yes, that was scary to scream while flying down the road, but at the time I really didn't care if I crashed, I didn't care if I hit someone, I just had to let that emotion go. And it was as if God showed me something....yes that hurt so much I thought I would die. But I faced it squarely, and I acknowledged its heartbreak, and then even though I closed my eyes and everything became so uncertain for just a short while, and although I thought I would never come out of that depth; as soon as I opened my eyes, the road was straight, I was still headed in the right direction, and with the situation having been placed in its proper context (instead of me avoiding it, thus giving it so much power over me) it diminished mightily. And I could move on.
I will write more later about mothering my present three..but it felt so good to get that off of my heart. phew. big big big sigh of much needed relief.
whoooooooooooo.
more tomorrow.

The year of our Lord...lets move on

I removed the last post because I think the point was made...and when I look back through all these post's about our first year, I don't want to be reminded about that women's phone call. SO! moving on.

I had to laugh the other day as John read my post's, because we realized I really have the actual order of events very wrong. I literally cannot remember when things happened, it was all such a blur. But I'm just going to talk about what we went through. Just know its not in the order in which events happened, but in the order I remember them! ha.

It was around this time that I began to really struggle. We had been in Chico for almost five months and I was about to have our third little girl. John wasn't employed at this time, and I really really believe that was God moving for us, because I would've simply fallen to pieces if I would've been alone all those days.
However, if you know John, you know he has an incredible persistence. I cannot remember a day where John just took it easy, where he just lounged. I can't. And its both maddening and so absolutely respectable I can barely stand it.
This post is going to be scattered, there's so much I want to say...just bear with me.
I've begun to realize that all those weaknesses we struggle with in our home church, the ones that don't seem particularly problematic, but persist...those become exaggerated and glaring when you are out on your own. It's like your home church and your family where you are most comfortable, provide this protective cover over you, that keeps you in check and reminds you whats right. And then when you step out of that, its as if suddenly someone has ripped a band-aid off your heart, and suddenly those carefully guarded issues begin to manifest in your life. Its a pain I almost can't bear sometimes.
In McMinnville, I always knew I wasn't a super social person. I had a tendency to not really want to have people over, and I preferred small intimate groups over large loud ones. I knew I was easily overwhelmed, and I hated that about myself. I knew I was a clean freak, and impatient. I knew this, but it had never really been a problem. Until now.
If I was ever overwhelmed in Mac, I was drowning in my anxiety now. Literally, there were times where I felt like I was being yanked at break neck speed, through a pool, and water was rushing into my nose, choking me, I was gasping and flailing and trying to breath, but whoever was pulling that rope attached to my life, wasn't slowing down...and I couldn't catch my breath long enough to scream STOP! I CAN'T KEEP UP AND I'M DROWNING!
I was overwhelmed. I remember the first month we were there, John went back home for the annual harvester's homecoming. I didn't go because it would've been a nine hour drive there, for one day of services, only to drive nine hours right back. And with two toddlers that would've been awful. And to be honest, sometimes I look forward to those weeks or days where John leaves, I miss him, but its nice to have the days stretch out and for me to be the only person who's aware of my home (you know what I mean haha) and so I wasn't worried about him leaving so soon.
But that first night, the girls tucked away in bed and me in my room watching little Reagan hiccup and twirl in my tummy...it hit me. The ONLY other person I know in this entire town, has left. I could go anywhere, any store, any restaurant, and not a single person would even recognize my face. If I suddenly went into labor, or if any of my children got hurt, there was not a soul I could trust, or even name, who would be able to come help me. I was so completely alone. And for some reason, I just wanted my mom. It was so base, such an obvious reversion back to what was comfortable for me. But I remember thinking of how consistent she made life feel and I remember suddenly feeling like all the breath had left my lungs, and I sat up and went and stared out my window into the dark of the town I was so unfamiliar with. I remember watching the branches sway, and the street light change from green to red, hearing the freeway and its constant chatter of engines, staring at the different cars coming and going out and in of our apartment complex...and suddenly there were tears. I remember sitting on the edge of my bed and heaving these great choking sobs. I never cry. never. I always wish I could when I'm feeling strong emotions, but it's always been such a hard thing for me to just be vulnerable with my emotions...but now I couldn't stop. I remember trying to not wake the little monsters asleep just across the living room...but I couldn't calm down...I have never cried so painfully.
It was hitting me. This move was quickly losing its adventurous, spontaneous appeal. The reality of what I had just engaged my life in, was pressing down on my heart, filling my mind with doubt, making my thoughts whirl with so much emotion and the possibility of failure and regret. And I remember crying out to God, "please make this just go away, I just want to go home. please make it possible for us to go home!"
And as I sat there that night, as I waited for the peace of God...a still small voice spoke something to me. Something that has stayed with me, carried me when I was afraid, and carries me still.
That night, when I wanted so badly to return to McMinnville, my home. The voice of God spoke to me.

"McMinnville is not your home. Chico is not your home. There is not a town on this Earth that is your home. You are a sojourner, a pilgrim. And you will never be home until the cares of this world pass away and all things become new. Stop looking back towards McMinnville as your home and resting place. It is not. You are simply not home yet."

I am not home yet.

Once saved always saved?

I've always had an issue with the Calvinist doctrine, the one that says we are always on our way to heaven if we asked for salvation once upon a time. It believes we cannot backslide and fall away from grace...it's always agitated everything in me, but I haven't been able to quite put my finger on why (besides the fact that its so completely unbiblical)...then John sent me this quote by John Newton, the man who wrote "Amazing Grace" and scores of other hymns. And it nails so perfectly what the issue is with this stupid, arrogant, self-righteous doctrine...Yes God is gracious, a grace we could never fathom. But to assume we simply are ENTITLED to this never ending flow of turned heads and shrugged shoulders? As if God is a weak undecided little man who has no ability to say, you abused my grace and now it is not yours any longer. Well, thats so pompous it makes my blood boil. US humans, as weak and easily manipulated as we are, rarely let someone walk, and walk, and promise and break, and promise and break, without drawing a line where we say ENOUGH! And this righteous, holy, Father is far above our own weak will and inability to maintain healthy relationship. He simply says, this grace is free BUT, here are the standards you must keep to continue living under such awesome mercy. And its simple really; to just devote your entire life to him. To live in a way that glorifies Him; yes with glitches and bumps, we are human after all. But to come contritely before the throne of heaven and ask for pardon and to strive for a character that resounds the name of Jesus. It is free, but it is NOT to be assumed and toyed with. Anyway..here is that quote:
And I am afraid there are Calvinists, who, while they account it a proof of their humility that they are willing in words to debase the creature, and to give all the glory of salvation to the Lord, yet know not what manner of spirit they are of. Whatever it be that makes us trust in ourselves that we are comparatively wise or good, so as to treat those with contempt who do not subscribe to our doctrines, or follow our party, is a proof and fruit of a self-righteous spirit. Self- righteousness can feed upon doctrines, as well as upon works; and a man may have the heart of a Pharisee, while his head is stored with orthodox notions of the unworthiness of the creature and the riches of free grace.
John Newton, quoted in Credenda Agenda, Vol. 5 No. 2, p. 2, from The Works of John Newton, Vol 1, Banner of Truth, p. 272.
"the riches of free grace..." exactly.

okay, that might seem random, but its been coming up lately and I think there are some secret readers who ascribe to this doctrine. If you were wondering where I stand, now you know.

In other news...Illy sent me this amazing quote from Pastor K. Foley's sermon sunday night...made me simultaneously feel contrite and so cherished.
"The gospel...You're more of a sinner than you ever believed; and more loved than you ever dared to hope."

Called for a time such as this

Somtimes, the fight to build a church is an incredibly weighty, confused one. But then, then we are given moments like this that give us clarity and a deep deep joy to be so wholly used by God...I will tell the story of Jack soon..but for now..a picture and video of his very public baptism...and a poem I wrote last week when everything seemed so hard and I realized...who ever said it was easy? Is not the toiling and work, part of what makes the reward so sweet? anyways...more to follow...

YOU LABOR NOT IN VAIN

Sometimes this life is painful,
it torments and affords no grace
But in the midst of painful toil,
I sense the smile on my Savior face.
A silent nod, a grateful sigh
His servant toils as His Son draws nigh.

The field is plenteous, but the fruit is spoiled
resisting the labor as good plans are foiled;
The harvest bows down, away from the hands
that gently work, and work o'er the Land

The rain and the snow make the worker's grow small,
but stand up! Oh stand up!
Arise to the wall!
Blow your trumpets, and shout His name
watch brick and mortar crumble
as demons fall lame.

Stand, be victorious,
you don't toil in vain
you're fighting, you're winning for the Lamb that was slain.
So fight and go onward,
the Word can be trusted.
The Father has smiled upon us,
His Beloved.

Hush a bye..Don't you cry...

My sleep is haunted. It's haunted with horrifying nightmares about Mailey. On saturday I dreamt that it was storming outside...positively storming and I was trying to deal with the baby and Mailey and Emry were supposed to be in the bath. All of the sudden I realized the front door was open so I panicked. I laid Reagan down on the carpet and ran outside but my babies were no where to be seen...I looked across the parking lot to where there is a creek that flows and saw Emry, naked, staring down into the water and my heart started beating out of my chest. I ran so fast to the creek and I knew Mailey was in there, I could see bubbles coming up...I begged Emry not to move and ran in and immediately felt Mailey around my feet in the water. I yanked her up and she was blue but in my dream my mind simply could not wrap itself around what was happening so she began to cough because my conscious self could not handle the dream...I grabbed her and Emry and began to run and run for what seemed like an eternity back to my apartment where Reagan lay crying, and then I tried to call John and I was crying to hard to tell him..and then I woke up.
When I woke up my whole heart physically hurt. I thought I was having a heart attack I couldn't even breathe. I knew it was just a dream but still...so as every mother has done and will do, I got up at 3 in the morning and watched my babies sleep because I could not. I ran my hands through Mailey's hair, I listened to her breathe, I prayed for her, I counted her fingers and toes, I memorized her face...and then convinced myself sleep was an option. it wasn't. I layed in bed awake, hurting and tormented until Reagan woke up at 6:30am.
Monday.
I dreamt a family took Mailey away from me, and I went to their house and I could see her through a big glass door and she was panicking, crying, begging for me. Her hands were on mine, separated by that glass door..the family pretended I wasn't there and I cried and cried. Finally (this is random) Dan McMillan walked by and I begged him to tell them they had my child, but he couldn't remember what Mailey looked like so he had to leave...
I woke up. Angry.
This happened last fall, right when we got here, right as God was starting to move, I had horrible nightmares about bad things happening to my kids. The devil is such a cheap shot, he hits below the belt and his blows hurt. bad.
The only thing I could ever not handle losing, are my children. Take everything. Take every single thing, hurt me, hurt my house my money...but my children? thats where I falter.
And now the nightmares are back. pray for me. nothing can make me close up and want to run back home than feeling that terrible fear, that impossible worry that something may happen to them if I continue to do this.
pray pray pray. because sometimes it feels like I can't breathe.