Rehearse Your History with God (a new frontier)

Rehearse your history with me, Elaine.

So whispered the Father to my spirit in the early morning hours of August 13, 2022. It’s an oft-repeated phrase I use when challenging others to remember the faithfulness of God in their lives—to retrace their steps with God over the years in order to hold the collective and certain witness of his activity therein. God doesn’t want us to forget his past faithfulness; he wants us to bank on it as our futures unfold.

And so it was for me on August 13th … counting and collecting the memories of God’s faithfulness in my life, in particular, as it pertained to the past twenty-five years of ministry life that Billy and I have shared together.

The Trenton-Maple Grove UMC years – those two, early years of shaping a family within the framework of a two-point, pastoral charge set against the backdrop of a hurricane named Floyd. It was here where we began to navigate both streams side by side—family life and ministry life. Trenton was the truest measure of my “leaving and cleaving”—leaving behind the family I grew up with in order to cleave to the family that would grow up with me.

The Washington UMC years—four years within a community often designated as “Little” but a season in our lives that was anything but. We grew a family along the edge of a pond named Pamlico. Two branches were added to our family tree. A season of rich, deep and abiding friendships. A season of igniting my soul with a flame that had never been lit so brightly. I fell in love with Jesus all over again in Little Washington. Our departure from there was nothing short of what was witnessed in Acts 20:36-38. We were well-loved in that place.

The Pine Forest UMC years—six years of fruitfulness, both in ministry life and in our home. In that place and in that space, we all grew up, experienced many of life’s “firsts and lasts.” Bible studies were led; souls were fed. A book was written. Hearts were given … fully. We invested deeply into the soil of that community, broke bread and shared the table of grace with dearly beloved friends. Such feasting can still be tasted in my memories.

The Christ UMC years—three years of walking through the shadowed valley. A broken church; a broken flesh. Both needing to be salvaged, our church and my flesh. I would live to tell the story, to stand on the other side of survival. The church? Well, the people live on to tell the story; the building does not. And while Christ UMC Fayetteville no longer has a physical address, I fully believe that God is alive and active in the faithful saints that once filled the pews on Raeford Rd. Those specially selected souls carried my family through a very difficult season. Equally and tenderly, I carry them closely in my heart and thank God for their willingness to walk through the shadows with us.

The Saint Luke UMC years—six years of planting a flag in the ground and calling it home. The neighborhood years. A season where everyone knew our names and, generally speaking, smiled when they spoke them. Our nest grew smaller; Nick and Colton flew away. I busied myself by re-baptizing myself with the waters of teaching. Another hurricane named Florence blew through, this time baptizing us all with the waters of “letting go and trusting God.” We did, and He did … miraculous things. He spared the life of our son, and he brought a community alongside to witness the height and depth, width and breadth, of such a generous gift.

The Benson UMC years—the now years. The not-yet-seen years. Three years and counting. The reason behind my early morning moments with God on August 13th.

It was at this moment in my deliberations with the Father when I paused my historical rehearsing. Instead, I was silenced by the scene that the Holy Spirit dropped simultaneously into my mind’s eye. Lying there in the dark, I clearly saw the framed print that our daughter-in-law, Rachel, had commissioned for us and given to us at Christmas 2018—an artistic rendering of the churches we had served to date: Trenton UMC, First UMC Washington, Pine Forest UMC, Christ UMC, and Saint Luke UMC.

While the rest of my family lay sleeping, I crept out to the dining room to behold the picture. Pointedly missing from the scene? Benson UMC—our current church home. There have been times in the past three+ years of ministry when we’ve lamented the fact that Benson UMC isn’t included in this artistic rendering. When it was originally commissioned five years ago, there was no way of knowing where we’d be today.

And where we are today?

Well, today we’re in between. A week ago, on September 25, 2022, the Benson United Methodist Church made the decision to disaffiliate from the United Methodist denomination and to affiliate with the newly formed Global Methodist denomination on January 1, 2023. As a United Methodist clergy for the past 25 years, my husband has decided that we will travel to this new frontier with our church body. It has been a brutal process for our family and our church. To linger with the “what ifs” and “maybes” over these past several months has been a difficult cross to carry at times. I don’t imagine we’ve lived the fullness of what that will mean to us in the upcoming season. But on that night back in August, before any final decisions had been made, God slipped a single, encouraging thought into my spirit about the season ahead … that there was a shift coming. That the very good, beginning three years of ministry at Benson UMC would continue under a new entity. That this current church would, one day, find its history amongst the other parishes we’ve served but would stand alone under a new banner – a new name. That name has yet to be determined. It doesn’t much matter to me what the name will be. What does matter to me, is that I get to walk on this sacred soil—a fresh work of grace authored by the Grace-Giver.

Time will write the witness of what has been done in this hour. We’re living in a season of messy imperfection. New frontiers are fraught with unseen complications. The mud is thick in places. Many repairs will have to be made along the way. But despite all of the unknowns and the growing pains that inevitably come with growing a new thing, there is a bold hope securely fastened to this new frontier—God is in it. Not “instead of” an already established denomination but, rather, “alongside of” a new one. He stands in both places knowing that faithful souls are anchored to each landscape. I will not underestimate or try to manage the work he longs to accomplish on each frontier. God is too big and too gracious to limit our horizons. How thankful I am for a history that rehearses accordingly!

And so, in this new hour and for those who have yet to be convinced of this trajectory, I offer you the wisdom that Gamaliel offered to the Sanhedrin two thousand years ago when the Apostles were brought before them and accused of spreading a false Gospel:

“… Let them go! For if their purpose or activity is of human origin, it will fail. But if it is from God, you will not be able to stop these men; you will only find yourselves fighting against God.” (Acts 5:38-39)

Yes, friends. Keep rehearsing your history with God, and then go in the strength of that witness. Let the grace-filled portraits of your past serve as the backdrop for the portrait yet to be painted. God will not fail you; God will not abandon you. God will go with you. And as my daddy (a life-long Methodist preacher and teacher) would tell you …

The best is yet to be. With Christ in your story and the Holy Spirit as your guide, your best days are always ahead of you; never behind.

Lean into that frontier today. I’ll meet you on the road, and as always…

Peace for the journey,

You’ll do.

Our Sunday School roster of teachers was down to slim pickings today. The regularly scheduled facilitator and her substitute were otherwise detained, and I offered to step in at the last minute. Attendance numbers were slim as well, but what we lack in quantity we make up for in quality. These people I do life with are some of the finest folks I know.

After an initial greeting and my pre-emptive apology for serving as a fill-in, a generous soul in our midst offered me, perhaps, one of the most sincere and beautiful commendations I have ever received:

“You’ll do.”

Generous laughter followed his proclamation, along with an inward tugging in my spirit. He attached no harm to his words; instead, they rolled off his lips as a compliment of the highest order. And therein I felt safe. Wanted. Warmed by his genuine assessment of me.

“You’ll do.”

Oh, to be welcomed to the table of holy conversation with a hearty handshake of acceptance! It’s a gift to me … to be graciously received and, further still, to no longer need any weightier accolades attached to my name. That’s not always been the case. There was a season when I clamored for a bigger stage, a larger audience, and a calendar filled with invitations to validate my spiritual prowess.

That season didn’t last long. And while I knew that I was naturally and (at times) supernaturally gifted for the stage, it wasn’t to be. Instead, God simplified the matter for me, took my hand, bowed my heart, and led me down a quieter path of holy privilege.

There’s nothing “lesser” about a quieter path, at least in God’s eyes. It just means that kingdom work doesn’t always need a stage to get results. Sometimes the good seed falls to a few good souls who gather on a Sunday morning to say “yes” all over again to the holy deliberation of God’s Word. To be awed by the wonderment, the workings and worthy practice of chewing on a few verses and believing that, with the chew, something profound and beautiful happens.

Jesus happens. Every single time. In the midst and in the muddle of a week and of a world that is often void of his voice. When the Bible is open, Jesus takes the stage regardless the size of the audience. He makes no apologies for his presence. He simply and profoundly stands there on the pages of holy writ with all truth embodied within his frame. Like a brilliant shard of light dispelling the darkness, Jesus illuminates and fills the empty pages of our souls. And when that happens, when the hunger of our hearts is satiated by the love in his heart, then the kingdom moves forward. The kingdom expands.

Eternal deliberations with the eternal God yield eternal results.

I’ll get up every day for that kind of spiritual progress, friends. A step toward home is a step in the right direction. And to step it alongside a few hungry saints, is, indeed, the path of holy privilege.

Maybe today you need to be reminded of such things like quieter paths and open Bibles and friends who trust you to lead the holy deliberations therein. These are not lesser stages of significance and your participation isn’t a lesser point of privilege. Rather, these are great works of grace with a great and awesome Jesus.

You’ll do, friend. Bring what you have to the table in obedience.

He’ll do … the rest. Even better. Even more.

On earth, even as it is in heaven. As always…

Peace for the journey,

A Silver Celebration

I like growing old alongside Billy.

That’s what I told a friend not long ago. I’ve not always thought about our life together with such sentimentality. Twenty-five years ago, growing old wasn’t on my radar. I was just a bride walking down the aisle toward the man and toward a future that could not be predicted, only lived out with the belief that marriage was, in fact, a good decision for me and my two sons.

Of course, there were plenty of folks in the room validating our choice – a cacophony of voices rooting for us from the sidelines, along with Dr. Ellsworth Kalas awaiting our arrival at the end of the aisle. What a gift he gave us that day, validating our budding love by reminding us of a wedding in Cana where the best wine was saved for last! But there were other voices as well in that season … a few who dared to share their concerns. There was the well-meaning friend who stopped by my office one afternoon and likened our courtship to a combination of peanut butter and cheese, an odd coupling. And then there was the well-respected professor who refused to counsel us because he had already decided that Billy and I, as a couple, were not marriage material.

Twenty-five years of marriage have a way of dulling the naysayers. Today we laugh at the memory. I confess, though, that in those beginning days of solidifying our union, I probably gave those well-meaning voices too much rental space in my mind. At times, Billy and I were an odd coupling, struggling to build a life together on nothing more than the firm covenant we had made to one another, to God, and to our boys on that sultry July afternoon at the altar of First Methodist Church in Lexington, KY.

Emotions weren’t enough to carry us through to this moment – a silver wedding anniversary. Covenant-keeping was.

And today, twenty-five years down the road, Billy and I are growing old together in a most beautiful way – a well-respected love tethered by a long season of deliberate choices that have weathered us, tested us and, ultimately, elevated us to a place of surety, strength, and safety. My gut tells me we’re going to lean heavily into that strength in the season to come; seems like a few clouds might be gathering on the horizon. 

Come what may, one of the things I hold most certain and close in my heart (perhaps the benefit of twenty-five years of covenant-keeping) – for as long as I am allowed, I will walk forward with my hand in Billy’s. He is my home. For better or worse, for richer and for poorer, in sickness and health, for as long as we both shall live.

We’re a team, Billy Olsen, and I am honored and blessed to be your aging bride.

I really do like growing old alongside you.

Happy Anniversary,

Background Music by Bebo Norman – “A Page is Turned” 

Wisdom in View

Welcome 2022. Truly.

Last week, I listened to a podcast by John Cooper (lead singer of the group Skillet) on Facebook. He brought up this verse from Proverbs in the podcast, and it has stuck with me ever since. I think it will be my verse focus this year (Remember when we all started blogging and adopted words/verses for the year? Perhaps it’s a worthy habit to return to … a way to re-engage our hearts and, most importantly, our minds on better things.)

Wisdom. Where can she be found? Who’s looking for her? Who’s settling for less? Who thinks they have more? Who thinks they have best? To what lengths might we travel to hold her treasure?

To the ends of the earth?

The ends of the earth. How does one get there? Getting to the ends of the earth has never been easier for us. The internet is happy to oblige in this regard. We troll and scroll, like and share, emoji and meme, and just generally trip our way through endless #searchingforwisdom websites and links. The cacophony of voices competing for our attention is incalculable. This endless pursuit of wisdom via the cyber-sphere is a thought that resonated with Cooper. It resonates with me as well. You?

For the past two years, I’ve spent a lot of time wandering around on-line, searching the “ends of the earth” for wisdom. Some of that searching has yielded valuable truth. A lot of it has yielded a treasure trove of nothingness – a vain attempt at grasping for truth only to realize, in the end, its vaporous deceit.

Satan is pleased. He’s the master of such treachery. And if he can pull us away from truth by dangling endless resources in front of our fingertips to “help” us in our search for wisdom, then his devilish schemes have occupied a space in our minds that should be reserved for the true fount of wisdom – Jesus Christ. As Jarrin Jackson often says, “In through the ears and through the eyes for the domination of the key terrain of the mind, for the prize of the soul.”

Our minds are the gatekeepers of our souls. We should do better about guarding that gate. Keeping it solid. Stopping the turnstile from revolving. There are no open borders in wisdom’s territory. Instead, wisdom builds a fortress around her land and secures it with watchtowers of the Word and the sentinel of the Spirit of the living, one and only true God.

It should be an easy choice for believers … our default. So often it is not.

So here I am, nine days into a new year, vacillating between two women – a foolish one and a wise one. For the health of my soul, it is a wrestling that must be decided.

Wisdom. It has never been more vital to our survival than now.

Go get her in 2022, friends. Gather her. Grow her. Guard her. Give her.

Keep her in view by keeping your fingertips on the gilded pages of God’s Word. She will never lead you to a dead end. Instead, wisdom will lead you to the place where you were always meant to live. As always…

Peace for the journey,

For those of you who follow Jadon’s story, we had the wonderful privilege of hearing him preach the Word this morning – “The Good Law and the Glorious Gospel”.

What Worked For Us (how advanced planning helped my family) – UPDATED

UPDATED INFORMATION (1.9.2022)

Since I first wrote this post in September 2021 – there have been many newsworthy updates regarding all things COVID related. I will add some of those updates here.

To see the latest information from Dr. Peter McCullough  – please click on following video link posted January 9th. Dr. McCullough was presenting at the Health and Liberty Alliance Conference. CLICK HERE TO WATCH.

Dr. McCullough’s now patented protocol can be downloaded by CLICKING HERE.

Peace to you, friends. I pray that you are well. Spiritually. Physically. Mentally. In all the ways that truly matter.

Your well-being matters to me. Accordingly, tonight I feel led to go somewhere that I’ve been somewhat hesitant to go in recent days. I won’t go into the reasons for my hesitancy. You know them already. One doesn’t have to go looking to find division in this season. Division, instead, finds us.

The soil beneath our feet is ripe for discord.

And so, I tread lightly and tenderly on this patch of dirt I am about to unearth.

On February 28th of this year, Jadon tested positive for C19. On July 30, 2021, Billy tested positive. Three days later, Amelia tested positive.

Over the course of their illnesses (each one with varying degrees of symptoms – Billy being the worst), I masked up and tended to their multiple needs while following a carefully researched course of protocol developed by Dr. Peter McCullough. Months before, I had pre-emptively prepared for such a time as this. Through the help of Dr. McCullough and America’s Frontline Doctors, I had both the protocol and the meds on hand to treat this virus at home. The goal was to keep all of us out of the hospital.

Thankfully, that goal was achieved.

In the last week, with the rise of the new variant related to C19, I know of many people who have also received a positive diagnosis. Folks who have previously been hesitant to speak with me about all things pertaining to C19 have now begun asking questions. A lot of those inquiries pertain to the protocol we used as a family.

As the lone hold-out in our household for not having been diagnosed with C19, I continue to daily follow the protocol prophylactically.

And so, I give you this information as a way of coming alongside you in this time of great flux. I am not a medical doctor, but Dr. Peter McCullough is one of the most peer-reviewed, published doctors on the topic of C19. I won’t load you down with his credentials. You should do the research yourself. That’s what any responsible person would do in a situation as serious as this one. Personally, I think he should be nominated for a Nobel Peace Prize, but that is my bias. History will write the witness of just exactly how valuable and noble his efforts to treat this virus have been.

Incalculable is the word that comes to mind.

There are literally dozens of current videos featuring Dr. McCullough. I’m posting his most recent one, in which he adds a new recommendation to his nutraceutical bundle – povidone iodine to cleanse the pharyngeal passages.

To download your own copy of Dr. McCullough’s treatment protocol, visit the website Truth for Health by clicking here.

To view his recent interview with Dr. Peter Breggin, click here.

Dr. McCullough’s protocol, along with a similar protocol by Dr. Zelenko, have been used effectively by countless patients across the globe for early treatment of C19. Three of those patients I call family – Billy, Jadon, and Amelia. I am eternally grateful for the mission and work of these frontline heroes. Perhaps their knowledge may be of some benefit to you and your family going forward. As always…

Peace for the journey,

PS: Comments are closed on this post. If you’d like to be in touch, please send me an email. 

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