God's Open Doors by Carol Harrison

I am a writer, a speaker, and a storyteller but I never planned for those to be part of my life. God had other ideas. His plans and mine didn’t match up. As I look back, I can see His leading even when I stubbornly insisted, I wasn’t a writer and there’s no way I could speak or teach anyone but young children. Teenagers terrified me and adults – well what did I know to teach them or so I thought.

God nudged me out of that comfort zone a little bit at a time. Even when I felt inadequate as a young wife and mother to substitute in an adult Sunday School class, I found out begging God and tears didn’t get me out of the assignment. He just promised to be there with me and He was.

Writing had been put in the back of the closet and buried where no one else could read it or even know I had enjoyed it at one time. I convinced myself I couldn’t write, shouldn’t write, and so why bother even talking or thinking about it anymore. Yet the pen and paper beckoned me. I journaled for myself with no plans to allow anything I wrote to be read by others. But God had other plans with that aspect of my life as well.

Years after reluctantly teaching that adult Sunday School class, the pastor’s wife of the church we then attended asked me to lead a mid-week ladies Bible study group at the church. She felt confident I was the person for the job. I think she had enough confidence for both of us as I hesitantly said yes. I enjoyed the study times and became more comfortable with that small group of ladies. God put a love for women’s ministry into my heart. But I found out God wasn’t done moving me out of that box I had built for myself and gave another little nudge in the direction He wanted me to go.

I accepted an invitation to speak at a ladies ‘retreat. I knew no one. I had lots of time to study and God spoke to me through that preparation time. While I spoke at the second session, the Holy Spirit spoke so audibly to me, I felt like everyone in the room must have heard. He asked me to change my illustration and gave me the one to share. I didn’t want to change those carefully laid plans made during all the study time but I finally did. I felt vulnerable with the new illustration and yet several women approached me after to let me know if was where they were at too.

As I prepared for the evening session, the Holy Spirit spoke again. Another illustration change to my carefully crafted presentation which would leave me feeling even more vulnerable. Praying didn’t change the sense of urgency to obey. The next day a young woman came with tears streaming down her face. After I prayed with her trusting God knew her burdens, she found her voice. Through more sobs she thanked me for sharing the illustration from the night before about how God brought people into my life when I struggled with depression. 

Then she said, "I didn't think any other Christian woman ever had to go through this. I felt alone and didn't know where to go, who to talk to, or what to do."

What if I hadn't listened to that nudge, that direction from the Holy Spirit. God used that to affirm I needed to trust Him even when the plans I had didn't line up with ones He urged me toward.

A few months later, another pastor’s wife asked me about speaking at camp. Children’s ministry. How did this fit in with the love God had awakened in my heart for women’s ministry? I didn’t know or understand but I went and spoke to campers aged nine to twelve years. The cabin leaders were teenagers. God placed a love for camp ministry into my heart right along with women's ministry.

Next came the writing. I began to write again, learning all the things I had forgotten and more. Yet I needed to take the next step and share it with others. I asked God how all these things could possibly fit together. Women’s ministry, camp ministry, and writing made me feel like I must be missing something in God’s plan. Such a variety and yet everything I had listened to or read suggested to find your niche and stick with it.

Then I heard God’s voice again. “If I open the door, don’t look at the venue, the ages, or the size of the audience. Just walk through it. I’ll give you what you need for the task.”

God keeps expanding my comfort zone, showed me things He has gifted me to do, and asks for my obedience. He has given His Spirit to help accomplish the tasks He sets before me. I just need to hold my own plans loosely, show up and trust even when I know I'm still a work in progress.

 

 

Carol Harrison loves to hang out with her family and friends when she isn't writing, editing, playing with paper crafting and waiting for God to reveal the next open door to share stories and the good news of the gospel. 

 

 

Love Never Lets Go by Bob Jones

 

 

“Your problem is how you are going to spend this one and precious life you have been issued. Whether you're going to spend it trying to look good and creating the illusion that you have power over circumstances, or whether you are going to taste it, enjoy it and find out the truth about who you are.”

― Anne Lamott

 

“Bob, will you help me write my story?” There was only one possible reply. “Yes” was out of my mouth before I fully thought through the significance of the commitment. Phyllis Fisher thought my yes was a gift to her but the privilege was all mine. Writers love what we do and sometimes what we do is love in writing.

 

FULL CIRCLE

I met Phyllis when her husband Bruce, tied the knot for my wife, Jocelyn, and I in 1979. Eleven years later, Bruce invited me to join his pastoral staff at Central Tabernacle in Edmonton, Alberta.

 

Only four years passed before our lives went full circle. Bruce’s health was failing, and he could not sustain his pastoral responsibilities. The congregation handed me the baton as their pastor positioning me as Phyllis and Bruce’s pastor. The significance of this rare relationship was never lost on Jocelyn and I. Phyllis was Jocelyn’s biggest cheerleader. “She inspired me to believe I could be the pastor’s wife of a significant kingdom church.”

 

TRANSPLANT

In 2015, Phyllis was diagnosed with cancer. Intense treatments were not enough to prevent the end of her life from speeding towards her in 2018. The prognosis inspired her to create a legacy piece for her grandchildren and invited me to help her write it. The afternoons we spent together recording her memories were sacred moments. She invested precious hours of her remaining life into insuring her grandchildren would have a written legacy of her convictions and values.

 

Phyllis was one of the longest surviving kidney transplant patients in Canada. In fact, she was a double transplant patient. Her desire was for people to be assured that organ transplants work. She conferred with many patients who were afraid to have a transplant and when she told them how long she had her transplant they’d respond, "You have been how long?!" When she reached thirty years as a transplant patient, her story was about encouraging other people, not about her.

 

She introduced me to the woman who donated one of her kidneys when Phyllis’ first transplant failed. We met to capture the donor's story for the book. I listened in on their lively conversation in the Fisher living room, unaware that less than two months later Phyllis would be in heaven. Anyone who knew Phyllis was always surprised when they learned about her beginnings. She lived a love that was beyond her natural experience.

 

ABANDONED BUT NOT FORSAKEN

Phyllis was a pre-schooler when her father abandoned the family. Her mother was unable to care for her, so Phyllis lived with other families during her formative years. After high school she was applied for Bible College and was pleasantly surprised that they would accept "a girl like her." While at college she met the love of her life and she faced an early end to her life. Kidney failure threatened her future. Dialysis in the 60's was primitive and painful. Through it all she shared her faith with nurses and doctors and was sustained by a calm assurance that God's love would never let go. In the same year Bruce and Phyllis wed, she received a new kidney. 

Though Phyllis was born into a family that didn’t work, she knew how to make her family work. Her fragile health prohibited her from carrying a baby, so Bruce and Phyllis adopted two children. Phyllis never used her illness or pain to deflect her drive to care for people and it was easy for those looking on to think she never had a care in the world beyond those they knew about. Phyllis fulfilled her dream of becoming credentialed as an ordained minister and a chaplain. When Bruce went on permanent disability, Phyllis became the breadwinner, employed by the Ponoka Hospital and Care Centre. 

 

Our writing journey began in her living room on March 9, 2017. We met for a second interview on March 17^th - Saint Patrick’s Day - a fitting time as Phyllis was proud of her Irish heritage. There was no blarney in her answer when I asked how she was feeling. “I’m at a five out of ten on a pain scale. Three would be a threshold where some attention needs to be paid to my pain level. But that’s OK.”

 

We met again over the next five weeks and fully expected to meet with her in May. Sadly, she needed tertiary care. Our conversations came to an end. Within days she passed. I did my best to fill in the gaps and published her memoir, Love Never Let’s Go a few weeks after her death. 

 

Phyllis left a resounding testimony of God's love and care. She lived her too short life to the full. The Fisher family and their friends expressed appreciation for creating a memoir of Phyllis' life, but I was the one with gratitude for being entrusted with this sacred responsibility. As a writer there is no greater trust than to be invited in to chronicle a love story. Truly, love never lets go.

I write to grow hope, inspire people to be real, forge an authentic faith in Jesus, and discover their life purpose.

Please follow my writing at REVwords.com

I would love to hear from you.

 

Thankful for My InScribe Family - Tracy Krauss

Friend and fellow member Sheila Webster texted me shortly after Fall Conference with these four questions:
1. What are three takeaways from conference?
2. What is one thing you wish you'd said or done?
3. Who were you happy to see?
4. What are you inspired to write for the Kingdom?

I had to ponder these questions for awhile. My mind (and heart) were so full that I couldn't process my thoughts, let alone articulate them. 

Initially, I wrote (and this is me being brutally honest): "I am unequal to the task of being president!" and, "There is still so much I need to learn!" but I knew in my spirit that this was my exhaustion talking. Fortunately, my third takeaway, "I love my InScribe family!" helped me refocus on God's goodness and resonated with me into the next morning. 

As I continued to ponder, I realized that the most important thing about the weekend for me was something that I had shared with Dayna Mazzuca, another friend and member, on her way out the door at the end of conference. I was excited to share my 'revelation' with her, since she was instrumental a few years ago in helping the executive zero in on who we are as an organization so that we could write our mission and purpose statements. In case you missed it, the shortened state of our purpose is:

We minister to writers, so they can minister to others. That's a bold and powerful statement. (Credited to Sheila Webster?)

Anyway, I managed to convey to Dayna how grateful I felt for her skill in helping us define who we are, because... We fulfilled our PURPOSE at conference because PEOPLE WERE MINISTERED TO! 

I've been reading through the post conference evaluations and over and over again this same theme keeps coming up. People were moved by the worship; touched during the morning devotional times. (Thanks to Ron, Charity and of course, the Holy Spirit!) People loved the connectedness, the personal nature of the open space concept, the powerful doxology that was sung at the last gathering, and the feeling that God was present. In short, those that attended kept relaying that same message: they had been MINISTERED TO. 

Yes, there was also some wonderful teaching and I came away with a lot of new information. As always, a highlight for me was seeing my InScribe family in person. I truly love and appreciate the deep relationships I have gained over the years. You truly feel like FAMILY to me, and because of that I know I can lay aside any sense of inadequacy because the grace of Christ dwells among us. Yet, the wonder of God's Almighty presence is what struck me most about this year's conference. It literally permeated the air. 

I finally settled on these three takeaways:
1. We fulfilled out purpose in that we ministered to the writers who were present.
2. God's presence was felt in a powerful way - from the worship, to the devotionals, to the doxology, and everything in between.
3. Even the skeptics left with a sense that God did something new at FC this year. 

As for the rest of my answers, well, perhaps that is for another time.

Tracy Krauss writes from her home in northern BC. 
As InScribe's current president, she is well aware of her shortcomings, but is thankful that God still uses "cracked pots." Visit her website: tracykrauss.com  -fiction on the edge without crossing the line-

Pressed to Pray by Susan Barclay

As moms and dads we do the best we can. We're limited by our personalities, temperaments, experiences, perceptions, knowledge (and probably a whole host of other things), but we love our children and as Christians it's our deepest longing that they'll grow up to love, serve and follow Christ. Unfortunately, no matter how well we parent (or even how poorly), there are no guarantees. Just like you and me, God gave our children free will, and ultimately it is their personal decision to make our faith their own.

It's been a couple of years now since our son declared himself an agnostic. We'd known that something was amiss - he'd stopped taking communion and spent a fair bit of his time during church services fooling around on his cell phone. I think my husband and I both hoped he was just going through a low phase, that he would wrestle things through - with God, with his youth leaders - and find his footing again. I don't think either of us challenged him. Our son is a thinker and can talk circles around us. Of course, if we'd trusted the Holy Spirit to give us the words...

Sigh.

Today our son identifies as an apathetic agnostic. If you don't know what this means, it's the view that there is no proof of either God's existence or non-existence and if there is a God, it doesn't matter much, since he seems unconcerned with the universe or its inhabitants.

You may be wondering how this ties in with this month's theme of obstacles and how God opened an opportunity through one. If we look at the dictionary definition of an obstacle, it is "a thing that blocks one's way or prevents or hinders progress." But I am going to use the thesaurus approach and talk about how my son's loss of faith was a hardship that God used to deepen my prayer life and to minister to others facing various life difficulties.

You see, I used to have the idea that although my family wasn't perfect, we were doing pretty well. Both of my kids were believers. We went to church together, they went to youth group and on retreats, we enjoyed engaging in theological discussions, etc. I couldn't imagine that anything could change that. I don't like to think I was prideful, but my obvious naivete suggests that I must have been. We all know the saying, "Pride goes before a fall." Not that it's all my fault, by any means. We all make our own choices.


When my son's faith derailed, it pressed me to pray like I'd never prayed before - with tears. It prompted me to begin an online prayer group that now has eighteen committed members. We pray for 3 members (and their families) each day, Monday to Saturday. We've seen some prayers answered and on others we're still waiting for God to move. We know God is working behind the scenes; we know His plans are good and that He's the giver of all good gifts. We do not walk alone. His timing is perfect as are His ways and we put our trust in Him, even when things look bleak. Especially then. We do not give up on our son or on other loved ones; we don't give up on God.

When people compliment my written prayers, I thank them then say I consider our prayer group a ministry. I do. God took hardship and turned it into a ministry of prayer.

"At night we may cry, but when morning comes we will celebrate." Psalm 30:5b, CEV

I'm looking forward to morning!
_________________
Susan Barclay maintains a website at www.susan-barclay.blogspot.com. She is also the new writing groups coordinator for Inscribe.

"Let All You Do Be Done in Love" by Sharon Espeseth

February 14 is a big day in 2018
Google Free Images of Valentine's Day

Three Days in One

For the first time since 1945, Valentine's Day and Ash Wednesday both land on February 14th. Do you, like me, find that an interesting alignment of days to commemorate?

In our family, we have a third event we celebrate on the 14th of February. This is the day our third adopted child, Jennifer Joanne, a.k.a. Jenny, became a member of our family.


Valentine's Day

The history of Valentine's Day is not well documented, but it is believed this once "holy day" was started in honour of St. Valentine, who was martyred for the Christian faith in 269 A.D. Valentine was known in the third century for his marrying of young couples who were in love. Perhaps because love wasn't the general prerequisite for marriage, this landed him in jail.

The jailer liked Valentine and they apparently got along fine until he tried to convert his overseer to Christianity. That got him beheaded. Valentine was fond of the jailer's daughter, a fellow believer. Before the axe fell, Valentine had given the young woman a card encouraging her to keep the faith. "From your Valentine," he signed.

Martyrdom is a far cry from the chocolates, gifts, cards and romantic excesses of the 21st century. Valentine's Day  2018 will also be a sharp contrast from the more sombre day of fasting, reflection and penance that is Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent.

Lovingly made by our granddaughter Abbie

Ash Wednesday

Free Catholic Inspired Image 

Ash Wednesday is a time to consider God's love and sacrifice for us. His is a love so deep that he sent his only Son to die on a cross for our sins. "For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life." (John 3:16 NIV)

For some of us this year, we may have to push or pull our Valentine's treats back to February 13th. Shrove Tuesday is observed in different ways and with different names depending on one's culture. Simply put, it's a day when dietary leniency is allowed before Lent begins. For many Christian traditions, the 13th, this year, would be a better day than Ash Wednesday to indulge in rich foods.

The ashes drawn in the shape of a cross are a symbol of our repentance or our dying to self and turning more toward living like Christ. The ashes are prepared beforehand by burning the blessed palms from the previous Palm Sunday. During Lent, we are invited to renew our lives in Christ and to walk with him.

Jenny's Arrival Day


The third important occasion for our family on February 14th is the Arrival Day for our third adopted child, Jennifer Joanne a.k.a. Jenny. Imagine our joy at receiving a bouncing baby on Valentine's Day some years ago. Each of our three adult children were adopted as infants, so they each have a birthday and an arrival day.

When our kids were young, Arrival Day meant the child's choice of dinner prepared and served. The table was set with china and decorations prepared by the other two siblings. Arrival Day was a special day to express our love for and appreciation of this particular child.


Now that our young people are grown and away from home, we may not see them on the exact day of their arrival, but we at least talk by phone and try to see them around that time.

Three Love Stories in One Day 

One common thread, and that is love, runs through this triptych of special commemorations--Valentine's Day, Ash Wednesday and our family's Arrival Days. But there is something else I noticed while writing this blog. In each of these love stories, a poignant or sorrowful side surfaced.

What is sorrowful about Valentine's Day? you may ask. Many people are lonely, homeless, broken-hearted, grieving for the loss of a loved one . . . We can't assume that everyone will be celebrating a loving, joyous holiday. Maybe some of you, my readers of this blog, are at a loss this February. We as writers don't know everyone's circumstance, but we can be sensitive to the possibility that the 14th may not feel special at all for some. We can ask ourselves if there is someone who needs a call, a card, a coffee or dinner buddy on this day.

Ash Wednesday is a solemn day and there is a sadness in this as well. God's loving act of saving us from our sins came at a price--the horrible death of his Son on a cross. Mary the Mother of Jesus watched the whole episode from the foot of the cross. Her suffering defies imagination and this is a sorrow only heaven can heal.

Even our loving experience of being blessed with three children has its sorrowful side. We are so thankful for our three children and the fact that our family of five has since grown into a family of thirteen. (God multiplies his giving.)

Visiting Maligne Canyon with our kids during their teens

Our children were brought into this world by birth parents who were at a place in their lives when it seemed impossible for them to raise these infants. We think of each birth mother who carried a child in her womb and went through pain to give birth. Then this young woman had a tough decision to make. Would she be able to raise this child? Was there a father to help her? What would be best for the child?

These young women each wrote a letter expressing their love for their child and their inability to raise the child in their present circumstances. They wrote of their hope for the child to be raised in a home with loving, and Christian, parents.

These expressions of love were sacred for us and for the children. We are proud of these women for giving their children/our children the gift of life. Then they made the tough decision to surrender the infant to someone who longed for a child. We don't know of the birth father's involvement, but my heart ached for these young mothers. I still think of them and the young men, as much as they were involved, and pray for their well-being. 

Thinking of these three "love days--Valentine's Day, Ash Wednesday and our own Arrival Days-- I see a connection with this month's theme of ministry. How do we minister to those who are broken by "poverty, oppression, injustice," or personal heartbreak? On a recent Sunday, Fr. Johnny spoke about how our listening to others and sharing our experience can be ministry. We can do this in person or through our writing.

"Above all," Paul writes to the Colossians, "clothe yourselves with love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in the one body. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly; teach and admonish one another in all wisdom; and with gratitude in your hearts sing psalms, hymns and spiritual songs to God.  And whatever you do in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him. (Colossians 3:14-17

NRSV)

Life Is In The Interruptions by Bob Jones

“Maybe life IS the interruptions,” wrote Janice Dick.

As a pastor I can say a solid “amen” to that.

I used to work hard at time management and schedules to avoid interruptions. Now I work hard at life management to include interruptions.

Much of effective pastoral care is usually found in the interruptions.

The man widowed after 45 years of marriage whose call interrupts message prep about Biblical families because he needs help making sense of his newly single life.

The distraught mother whose call interrupts Board agenda prep because her adult son was just found dead in his apt.

The novice small group leader whose text interrupts budget prep needing to know why the God he is teaching about is so heartless in the Old Testament.

The seeker who shows up at the office interrupting an evangelism training seminar because they passed by the church and saw the sign that says, “Come as you are.” And so they’ve come. Now. To talk. About God.

In reading the Gospels two things stand out to me about how Jesus dealt with work and interruptions. Jesus was busy. Why else would John record in his gospel that if everything Jesus did was written down, the world would not have enough room to contain all the books about his work. (John 21:25) That’s busy.

But Jesus was never hurried.

Interruptions did not stop his work – they became his work. He was never too hurried to pause.

A woman with an “issue of blood” interrupted him on his way to heal a little girl. He paused. “Who touched me?” The woman was healed and so was the girl.

A blind man in Jericho interrupted Jesus on his journey to Jerusalem by calling out for mercy. His friends tried to quiet him. Jesus paused and healed him.

The longer I have worked at writing, the more I see that the writing life and life in general is not about balance but about priority. Relationships trump rules. People trump schedules. Family trumps just about everything.

Setting your pen down or turning aside from a keyboard to pay attention to an interruption could be the best thing you can do.

As I was writing this post about interruptions I was interrupted by a call from my eldest son and grandson. They’re five hours away in Saskatoon but as close as a Facetime call. An ironic interruption? Not really. Just life. At its best. Hello?

Bob is a recovering perfectionist, who collects Coca-Cola memorabilia and drinks Iced Tea. His office walls are adorned with his sons’ framed football jerseys, and his library shelves, with soul food. He writes to inspire people to be real, grow an authentic faith in Jesus, enjoy healthy relationships and discover their life purpose.

Follow his writing at Pointes Of View.