Time to recharge.

I’m in Seattle. It rains here. All. The. Time.

There’s a certain coziness to constant cloud cover. It makes you want to stay home under a blanket, watch the first season of Heroes and sip fresh-pressed apple cider from the Yakima fruit market. I couldn’t live here, but I can do it for week.

We’ve been meeting mostly with Debra’s friends out here. While I’ve truly enjoyed meeting new people and connecting with them for the first time, I’m aware that only a certain level of trust and friendship can be established in a single meeting. My desire to connect with people, to bless and encourage them, and to cast a vision for what we’re doing…. It’s hard to do in 2 hours with no prior history. This is different than my meetings in Colorado, where I had relationships with people and connections happened quickly.

So I’m adjusting to the reality of 1 meeting a day instead of 5, to a different quality of connection, and to the simple fact that no matter how late we sleep in, we’re running out of steam. It’s tough because I want to communicate clearly to people just how excited we are about the ministry we’re doing. I want to really cast a vision for what we’re about, but it seems to come out muddled.

It was easier at the start when I was waking up, spending time with God, being reminded of God’s “bigger picture” for my life on a daily basis. It’s harder when I’m traveling and staying in other peoples’ homes to take the time and intentionality to daily check in with God. Not impossible. Just harder. And to some degree I know that I won’t be able to fully plug back in until I get back into some kind of rhythm at home. I feel like God intentionally poured out His love and presence on me each morning for six weeks from August to mid-September, knowing it would have to sustain me throughout this trip.

So far, it has. In spite of intense testing and challenges, I haven’t seriously doubted the depth and intensity of God’s love and pursuit. I’ve maintained a steady faith in God’s faithfulness and purpose.

But I have also been feeling a slow drain and a desire to rest and recharge.

One week to go, then home to Minnesota.

A desert. A test.

You haven't heard from me in awhile. That's because I've been struggling. It's not as fun to check in when all is not well. And the last week or so, I've been wrestling with beliefs I've held and the one's I feel are being proffered to me in a sometimes-intense spiritual battle.

Before I left on this trip, I believe God told me that I would soon encounter a time of testing similar to Jesus' temptation in the desert. Previously God had been hammering home his love, acceptance, and providence every day in powerful morning encounters with the palpable presence of God. One day he told me this new way of thinking and believing would need to be tested. He laid out 3 major lines the Enemy would use to test my faith:

1. That productivity determines my worth.
2. That God will not care for my heart.
3. That I'll be able to make my own way in life and provide for my own needs.

Ironically the battle began... in the desert. After leaving Las Vegas, I felt like we had acquired another passenger, a spiritual monkey on my back, telling me with unusual ferocity that I should live for my own desires. It told me that I deserve to have my needs and wants met and that if they went unmet, I had every right to carry resentment against God. It warned that God would not care for my heart and that I would end up disappointed and disillusioned if I didn't take matters into my own hands.

In San Fransisco a tremendous apathy took hold of me. For several days I stayed home and watched TV. I didn't go explore the city or the ocean. I didn't try to make appointments. People didn't seem that interested in our ministry and I felt too tired to try. In a sense, I was okay with taking a few days to rest. But in another sense, I rested poorly: not with intentionality but with impulsiveness. Underneath was a gnawing guilt: I was not productive. I had wasted my time. I imagined God getting impatient with me and passing His Spirit on to a more productive person.

Last night in Olympia I had a dream. In my dream, I lived in a great empty mansion. In the upstairs master suite, a sharp-looking old man sat in a chair, ruling over the house. He turned and looked at me critically and said things I knew to be untrue, unbiblical: "God won't care for you. You'll never raise your support. Who do you think you are going on this trip? What did you expect anyway?" I knew I had only to tell him to leave. It was my house after all. But instead, I kept silent out of fear and contemplated ways to outsmart and subvert him. Before long, he had invited all his friends to the house who crowded around me, telling me lies. If you've ever read, "Hinds Feet in High Places", there's a scene in that book that perfectly illustrates that scenario.

This morning, I closed my eyes and the scene came rushing back. This time I told the old man to get out of my house, to get out my mind. (Maybe that seems schizophrenic... I call it spiritual warfare.) This time, a blinding white light I knew to be Jesus consumed the house, the man, everything. He seemed to say to me in essence, "Your enemy is strong but I am so much stronger. You have only to call on me."

That was was it. There have been other encounters... low blows and cheater tactics... and every time, it has been important for me to consciously reject the messages being offered to me as well as to reject the one bringing the message. It has been helpful to reach out to a few close friends for prayer. Ultimately, I believe that through testing, those beliefs... that Jesus truly loves me and will care for me... will be much more firmly-rooted in deep in my worldview. But I don't believe the testing is over.  Not yet.

The Clown Motel

I'd like to take a break from my spiritual meanderings.

This morning is the morning of our 5th wedding anniversary. I woke up next to my daughter in one queen bed. Debra shared the other bed with her 6-month-pregnant tummy. Above my head, a framed picture of a clown frowned down on me sadly while another clowned smiled from across the room. I did my best to avoid touching the spotted blue carpet as I made my way to the shower.

That's right. I'm at the Clown Motel in Tonopah, NV. For $39.79, we rented this gem in the middle of the Nevada desert. After driving the entire stretch of Tonopah, this was the first hotel with vacancy. Annabel exclaimed, "Is this.... a CLOWN HOTEL?!?!?!" and proceeded to laugh uncontrollably.

The owner's 10-year-old daughter met us at the door and refused to leave our side. She confided mischievously that we were located next to a graveyard "where they found a ghost" and then proceeded to encourage us to buy an assortment of stuffed clowns.

After dinner at the BurgerKing/Subway/Gas station (add 6 dollars for Claratin to combat whatever was living in our room), we returned and went straight to bed. Believe me-- it was a lot more charming with the lights off. Come to think of it, I've stayed in worse places.... but they were in Zambia!

Not exactly the romantic anniversary we imagined. In fact, after a couple oppressive days driving through the desert and an ill-advised attempt to see the Vegas trip, we are officially at the low point of our cross-country trek. But things are looking up: a little more driving and we'll be in Yosemite and then off to San Fransico.

I don't think it can get much worse than The Clown in Tonopah, NV. The upside is that Annabel is ecstatic. To her, this is pretty comparable to rolling out a sleeping bag at Chuck-E-Cheese.

The Greatest Adventure Ever.

We've been on the road 12 days. 22 to go. We've been from Minnesota to Chicago and across the plains to Colorado. We've met with more people and have become more exhausted than I thought possible. I'd have 4-5 meetings back to back. I'd get home and collapse unable to move.

At the beginning of last week, an old mentor challenged us to view our support-raising as a ministry rather than as a fund-raising tactic. So we cast our cares to the wind and decided that we would respectfully lay aside our fund-raising training (a couple tapes that told us how to guide a conversation to "the big ask") and start investing OUR resources into people instead.

So we started listening better to people's hearts. We did our best to encourage, bless, and pray for them. We drew out their vision for ministry and shared a bit of ours. We sought to develop partnerships for future ministry there. By the end, we had some financial supporters, but we had a lot more personal advocates, which in some ways is better because it opens the door for future relationship and ministry. We did walk away with a number of financial supporters including (hurray!!) our church community in Windsor, CO. But suddenly it matters less. In God's sense of humor, while WE sought to "raise a vision" for OUR work, God was raising OUR vision for HIS work.






Over the course of the week, I met with church leaders representing 5 churches in the area and was blown away by a common yearning for discipleship in each church. As we listened to each leader's heart we heard  a deep need for healing and maturing in the hearts of Northern Colorado Christians. We began to sense that God may have future plans for us in this town. I began to wonder if we could implement some emotional healing groups in the area or perhaps do some future training on discipleship. Either way, Windsor, CO is now a sending base for us. The door is now open for us to visit again and do meaningful work in the future. (By the way, if you didn't know, we lived in Windsor when we were first married and it was the hardest year of our lives together. To come back and feel we have a bright future here is profoundly redemptive for us: yet another loose thread that God is weaving into the tapestry of our lives together.)


Now we're off over the mountains. We'll hike and play for a day as we drive up to Grand Junction, CO. Then we're off to Las Vegas for a night. Haha. I know what you're thinking, but we're staying with a pastor's family. Though I haven't squandered the opportunity to tell supporters that we intend to "double our support" while we're there. ;)



This is the life I always dreamed of. This is the way I want to live.... not in an office, but out on the road, pouring into the lives and hearts of people. Like that pubescent mermaid, "I wanna be where the people are!" I want to "raise the vision" for building whole, mature, and missional disciples across this country. I want to leave a trail of people that itch for something deeper than church once a week. And I want to be able to give them the resources to dive headlong into the deep end of God's promises and dreams for their lives. That for me is the good life. And I can't believe God brought me here.