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 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.

In the year of the Lord

(This is one of my favorite pictures..taken just two weeks after we got there, Emry was not even two and mailey only 3..I was five months pregnant and so full of the unexpected. No idea what the gender of my baby was, no clue what the year would hold, so unsure of how to navigate so far away from my family....)

It’s been a year of complete juxtaposed emotion and circumstances. A year that in retrospect seemed to have lasted a million lifetimes; not because it dragged on, but  quite the opposite, because so much happened it seems impossible it took place in just 12 months.

Pioneering has done things to me that I could not have ever fathomed. I have wanted to write about it for awhile…but I find myself so hesitant to write anything about our church etc…because I’ve realized that so much of my perspective on what is going on, is so based on my current emotional state. So the joys and fears, the highs and lows…they don’t reflect honestly, what is reality. However, as the year concludes, I don’t want to forget it, and this blog is my online journal. So I’m going to take a moment to reflect and dissect it; To try and wrap my mind and vision around what is happening here in Chico.

When we first got here I was full of expectant and naïve dreams. I had such a young and immature view on pioneering, despite all my insisting that I didn’t have fanciful visions of what pioneering entailed. In fact, I did. My parents had pioneered twice, and I had seen the physical labor it required, had experienced the persistence it required, I had LIVED in the hectic stress of a pioneering family. But I had never encountered the spiritual battle…the demonic warfare that would fight constantly and painfully, everything in my soul and heart and mind. I hadn’t a clue.

As we began we to build a church we started in our little 860sqft apartment. I was five months pregnant and we had a three year old and an almost two year old. We started by first inviting everyone in our complex to a bbq and bible study in the complex park area. We had a two ladies bring their children, two boys and a girl. We had two young men come…we were filled with so much hope and joy…for our first try that was pretty incredible! I remember being so completely overwhelmed and unsure, because one thing about this job, you have got to keep a positive, energetic front up. And it IS A FRONT. Lets be honest right now. Outwardly I would be smiling and energetic, I would be talking and socializing and keeping everything going smoothly, but inside…inside I was shaking and my tummy was in knots. My mind was spinning in a million directions, doubt and fear that these people were uncomfortable and thought we were freaks, would start to make me feel like I wanted to just go back home. But I, WE, carried on and the ride started to smooth out.

Then we moved to services in our apartment rec room. And the shaking doubt came back. I remember my grand idea that our first service would be just like that first bbq…but people who would GLADLY come eat and socialize, balked at the idea of a service and real church…and that first service, one guy came who reeked of alcohol and urine, and a girl wandered over with her little baby. That service still brings a smile to my face. I had gone to the dollar store and bought these funky star balloons to tie to our sign, I had bought yummy things for a bbq after, and made sure to buy enough for twenty so that God didn’t think I was doubting how successful we would be (insert major laugh). I remember the hectic chaos of setting up our sound equipment while our two toddlers ran around causing havoc with the water fountain and free coffee…oh my! it was chaotic.

And then I remember sitting in the little room next to it, trying to keep Sarita’s baby from crying so she would stay in service. I remember Johnny (the transient who came) immediately taking his shirt off as soon as service was over…I remember talking to her and all the while I just wanted to go home and take a nap and forget the service had been so exhausting.

The next few were even rougher…we had our third and I believe final service there, and only an old lady came. She sat there smiling as we sang and powered through the song service with our kids, and then during the sermon Mailey made Emry mad and Emry hit Mailey, and they both started crying at the top of their lungs, so I rushed them out to the bathroom and as I barely contained my anger I threatened every toy in their room with imminent death if they did not shut their screaming little traps and sit nicely. I was about to snap…if you’ve never sat in a service with your two squirmy kids and only one other lady while your husband tries to preach and ignore the fact that he’s preaching only to his exhausted wife and an old lady (wow, ladies and gentleman that is called a run-on sentence)..Well, I highly recommend it. Truly, it makes you horribly aware of who you are and how much you need God. Anyway, I got them both to settle down in about a minute and drug them back out to find my husband standing at the pulpit looking like he was about to vomit. When I had walked out, the old woman had walked up to the front, handed my husband a couple bucks and walked out. She was the only one there, and she walked out.

Can you imagine? It was awful…that morning we had just found out that a man in our congregation back home had committed an awful suicide and so the day had already begun to sour…and then it quickly spoiled….we didn’t really speak to each other, just quietly packed up and went home. In fact, I don’t think we even spoke about it that whole afternoon…it just sucked so badly to be honest. I think we decided then we needed to find a more fruitful location..the apartments we were at were owned by "Christians", but we have quickly realized, the religious crowd is the greatest enemy to a true Christian trying to save perishing souls. And they very soon began to do everything they could to make it impossible for us to use the facility in any way.

I’m going to continue to write more this week…I need to just remember this year and document it…if you’re one of those sorts that thinks its distasteful for a pastor’s wife to be honest about what she’s going through, then go ahead and navigate away from this blog…because I don’t really care what you think. This is MY BLOG, and I really need to do this. I wish someone would have done just this, that I would’ve been prepared for the actuality of what I was about to endeavor on…that I would’ve known how much of an actual BATTLE it is…so this is just for those women…who want to hear the painful stretching and shaping that happens, and the tremendous soul healing joy that comes as well…

More tomorrow…

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.

The stuff of life and dreams...

SO! no baby...yet. sigh, this little bun in the oven is a freakin' loaf of bread by now hahaha, sorry..can you tell I wish I was done?!?!?! I just want to hold her and see her and smell her, and um...sleep on my tummy again. ha. So, as of yet, still technically the foley four...ah well.
This pic makes my heart ache everytime, Its truly the sort of thing that makes me carry on and see the point of the vision I've devoted our lives to. The song "Pioneer" by nancy honeytree (old Jesus people movement singer) makes me cry everytime I hear it, it so truly captures the heart and life of a pioneer...here's the lyrics and a video to her singing it....her voice is good but its the spirit behind the song, you can FEEL her sincerity and the annointing of God all over it...

Pioneer
By Nancy Honeytree ©1993 OakTable Publishing, Inc./ASCAP

Pioneer, pioneer
Keep pressing onward, beyond your fear
Only the Father goes before you
To your own frontier
You're a pioneer

Uncharted wilderness stretches before you
And you thrive on going where no one has gone
Still it gets lonely when darkness deepens
So sing by the fire until the dawn

You travel light, you travel alone
And when your arrive, nobody knows
But the Father in heaven, He's glad you can go
For those who come after you will need the road

What you have done others will do
Bigger and better, and faster than you
But you can't look back, you gotta keep pressing through
There's a wilderness pathway, calling you

Calling you, calling you clear
Keep pressing onward, you can't stay here
Only the Father goes before you
To your own frontier
You're a pioneer