His Light Always Shines Toward Life

This is the Smith family, the way we looked many years ago. This picture is of our niece's wedding.

Since this photo many more of our niece's and nephew's have gotten married, had children, and some of us have moved to various parts of the country and even abroad. We also have had some of our family go to, what Jesus calls, 'sleep'. We have lost the woman who held this family together, Joan, or you may have known her as Grandma, the mother of the Preacher, and we have lost the Preacher's sister, Brenda.

There is a line in Mat Kearney's song, "Closer to Love", that says "I guess we're all one phone call from our knees." That call came for us this morning. Today we learned that the Preacher's sister, Michelle, the baby of the family and the one sitting to the left of the bride in the picture, went to be with the Lord this morning. She had been having heart problems for some time and she knew that her time here on this earth was short but she was okay with that. She was okay with going home to be with her Savior, and to be able to see her mother, her father and sister again.

Within an hour of receiving that call the Preacher received another call telling him that a man in our town had also passed away today. A man that the Preacher considered a friend.

The Preacher had to write an article for our church's newsletter today. He wrote his article about his sister going to sleep, he wrote about his friend's passing, and he wrote about believing that Christ's light will always chase away the darkness. After reading his article I asked him if I could share it with you today. He told me that it would be okay. 

Here is his article:

"The phone rang today right in the middle of a morning run.  That is not my favorite time to get a call because in my mind I am about to set a 5K world record or at least a personal best.  But I saw the pic on the incoming call, it was my brother.  He doesn’t call that often so I assumed it was important and I gave up the gold to answer the phone.  In that instant when I heard a fragile voice on the line I knew that it was something important.  He said “Michelle died of a heart attack this morning.”  Michelle is our sister.  She is the 4th of our little family of 6 to go home.  Linda and I talked and prayed for her husband Greg and her daughters and grandchildren.  Within the hour I got a second call.  It was Greg.  He too had that frailty of voice as he told me the news.  My sister struggled with a weak heart for a decade or more.  He had left early this morning for work and she called to tell him that she was having trouble breathing but was going to a regular scheduled Doctors appointment.  The neighbor found her slumped over in her van in the drive way to their house.  My sister was what the Bible calls a “Believer.”  She seemed to struggle sometimes with accepting and understanding people.  But Jesus, she never seemed to doubt.  To me she was a woman of extremes.  If she was angry she was very angry and you knew it.  If she was blessing you, you knew it.  You were blessed beyond expectation.  When she loved she loved large.  Jesus was always the object of her love.  She doubted herself sometimes and sometimes she doubted her two brothers.  But her faith was like a life line that she clung too.
     As I was talking to her husband I had gotten a third call.  I saw the name.  It was a young lady that I had done a wedding for.  Her dad is a friend and she grew up friends with Samuel.  I listened to the voice on the machine and heard the fragile break in her voice also.  The same lilt I had heard two other times this morning.  Just a simple, “Could you call me please.”  I called her back and she said, “My dad died this morning and we want to know if you would do a service for him.”  I told her that I love her and her daddy very much and made plans to meet later in the day.  In some ways my friend and my sister were alike.  They both loved large.  Both struggled with health issues for years.  They were both gregarious storytellers.  Both lived in-between the extreme edges of joy and sadness.  Both left this world with in the same hour.  But in one particular way they greatly differed.  I do not know if my friend understood how much Jesus loved him like my sister did.  About a month ago I called my sister.  She told me her health was continuing to slip away.  That she struggled to live life well.  But she said, “I am okay with it, I am ready to go home when He is ready for me.”  My friend on the other hand in some moment of doubt or desperation took his life.
     Jesus is the Way.  He will always be the way, in the light or in the dark.  He is the way to life not away from it.  Always toward life.  That is true if we believe it or if we do not.   But believing it brings a light into the darkness, believing it now chases darkness away.  You see I remember another phone call.  This one was 24 years ago.  It was my sister Michelle.  She called me in Florida from Indiana to tell me that she was going to take her life.  We talked about life and love and faith.  We talked about Jesus.  For hours it seemed.  As we did the light of his love began to flicker in her soul.  A light that continued to shine all the way to the other side today."

Please pray for our family, for our brother-in-law, Greg, and for Michelle's girls.

Thank you and Love from the Preacher and I

The Church Dog Is Home!

Yes the Church Dog, Sergeant, is home! (Read here to see why he is called the Church Dog.) 

Sergeant left us back in December of 2015 to live with our son in Texas. Since that time our son has been deployed and it was necessary for Sergeant to come back to stay with us.

I had written a blog post on how empty our nest was after Sergeant had left us and how much we missed this crazy dog. Well he is back and I think the Preacher is happier about it than he would like to say. And Sergeant, I believe, is very happy to be home.

The first thing the Preacher did was go and buy him some dog toys. Then an appointment with the groomer was in order and soon will be a camping trip so they can hike together. The Preacher loves to throw the Frisbee for Sergeant to run after and catch. I'm not sure who enjoys this more – Sarg, getting to run and jump or the Preacher, getting to brag on how good his dog catches the Frisbee. 

As far as Sergeant being the Church Dog, he hasn't lost that title. On Sunday mornings the kids enjoy playing with him after church. We have a few new kids in our church since last December and they are having fun getting to know this crazy dog.

Our nest is a little fuller now. Sergeant is filling up our days, keeping us just a little busier. He just loves the Preacher. He keeps his eye on him and watches his every move. And the Preacher loves this crazy dog. 

Love from the Preacher and I

The Light Shines In The Darkness

If you were to look out of our back window everything would look just fine. The sky is blue and the grass is green and yet a big dark storm cloud has covered our family. We didn't expect it. The "weather man" didn't predict it. Just as Tim Tingle says in his story Crossing Bok Chitto, "One day trouble came. It always does, in stories or in life, trouble comes."

The Preacher and I have been feeling so many emotions these past two weeks. For three days straight we were so stressed that it took another five days to recover. And the storm is not over yet.  Although it does seem to have lightened up a little bit, there are still days when it comes back and shows it's ugliness.

When a tornado comes your way what do you do? You head to your storm shelter and take cover. What do you do when storms rage and the darkness invades your life? We headed to our Lord, our shelter from the storm. We came together and bowed our heads humbly in prayer. We asked that the Lord help us to think and act with wisdom and grace. Then we asked our friends to pray. And even though, that week was very stressful, we felt your prayers and we thank you for praying to the Lord who overcomes the darkness.

"The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it."                                                                                            John 1:5 (NIV) 

The darkness will not prevail...the Preacher and I must hold onto this. 

Love from the Preacher and I

What If We Rode a Bicycle Across the Country

Last night the Preacher and I hosted 2 young men, Marcos and Jeremy, who were cycling across America to raise awareness and funds for the fight against cancer. In June they began their journey in Baltimore and in August they will end in San Diego. 

The four of us sat on our patio around the fire pit talking about their journey. It was so interesting hearing of their adventure, the places they have been, the people they have met, and the anticipation of riding over the Rockies.

The Preacher and I have never done anything like this. Listening to these young men made us realize that out of all the things we have done, this would have been a wonderful adventure.

The Preacher told Marcos and Jeremy of the time that he and I took our bicycles up to Glenwood Canyon. We camped in a campground about 1 mile outside of town. We had high hopes of not having to use our car that weekend. We would just ride into town everyday to shop at the local stores and eat at the local restaurants. What we didn't realize is that even though we live in Colorado, the altitude where we do live is about 2,000 feet less than when you are in a canyon in the Rockies. Therefore, going up the hills that are on the path that parallel the river, is a very hard task when you are not used to that kind of activity. Of course I'm not in that kind of shape, and the Preacher, although being in better shape than I, had a hard time also.

The boys explained to us the training they did to get ready for their ride. One boy, Marcos, loves to ride. Loves everything about riding and the bicycles themselves. Jeremy explained that he was a runner and had been training on his bicycle since December of last year. Both boys were in the kind of shape you need to be to do this kind of trip.

While listening to their stories I thought about what the Preacher has been trying to teach us in his last 2 sermons. These 2 boys have the gift of riding their bicycles thousands of miles across country. The Preacher and I do not have that gift. Then why should we be jealous of their gift? 

When you long for someone else's gift you are not able to fully give God what He wants you to give. You will always be faking it. The Preacher says, "If you know what you are called to do keep doing it and keep moving forward. If you don't know what you're called to do then do the small stuff and God will show you what He wants you to do." 

The Preacher and I have been called to love one another first, and then those who we minister to. We each have specific gifts that make us a great couple and make us who God wants us to be.

I'm glad I don't have to fake it and try to ride a bike across the country. I'm glad God has given the Preacher and I the gifts that make us who we are. But it's not a bad thing to keep yourself in check when finding yourself going down that road of "what if.....?"

The Preacher and I wish everyone a

HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY!

Be the Grace and Love They Seek

Photo taken from The Blaze website

In these times when grace and love seem to be so hard to find, we as the Church need to be the grace and love that people seek.

All this week I have been listening to the talk and observing the way various people have reacted to the horrible mass murder by a terrorist in Orlando last Saturday night.    

A friend of mine knows someone who was friends of one of the first victims killed. His heart was broken and needed some understanding but he did not see it in a church. This particular church did not acknowledge the tragedy nor did they pray for the victims. 

While in a meeting, I heard people talking about how they couldn't believe all of the publicity the LGBT community was receiving from this awful event. They were talking about how terrible the media was because they felt that if this had been 49 Christians killed, there would not have been as much of a show of support. It was as if they were a little jealous of the media attention.

I do not support the choice of the homosexual lifestyle. BUT I do support love and grace. The people that were shot and killed were fellow human beings. God loved them just as He loves you and me. He wishes that all people be saved. Paul says in I Corinthians 10:33, "For I am not seeking my own good but the good of the many, so that they may be saved."

I told my friend that I wish her friend would have been in our service on Sunday morning. Our Worship Minister and the Preacher both prayed for the victims and their families. But at the meeting I had attended, I did not speak up. I had to process their attitudes a little before I could speak.

The Preacher has said on many occasions, "If we, as a church, are always showing people what we are against, then how will they ever know what we are for?"

I'm sure you have heard the saying, "hate the sin, love the sinner". Do we say it just to be talking christianese and we feel we'll sound more holy? We all deal with our own sins every day but thank God He still loves us in spite of it. 

So as we go forward in the wake of this tragedy, let's not go forward in hate. Let's go forward in love. Let's go forward with grace. 

Be the Church, be the people that Christ wants us to be.

Love from the Preacher and I 

It Is Hard When 'Life Goes On'

In November of 2014 I wrote of the pain that we felt when our son was taken away in a military bus to be taken to an airport and flown to the sight of his basic training. In that post I wrote, “This is the hardest thing his father and I have had to go through in all of his life. This is the time where your faith is tested, where you know that your faith in God is the only thing that keeps you going. You have to pray and believe that your son will be okay and that, with the Lord's help, he will get through this. With the Lord's help we will get through this.”

Now jump ahead 2 years. Our faith once again is being tested and we are going through another hard time in our life as a family. The training that he received while in the military is now being tested in a real life situation in some distant land.

On the day I knew that he would be taken to an airport to be flown to a place where his training may be tested, I cried. I cried a lot. I didn’t know how to really function. Again my heart and stomach were being ripped from my body. I was trying to put on a better face but to no avail. 

On that same day our church was hosting a get-together picnic in honor of some friends. In the morning I was doing alright but the closer the time came for everyone to gather together to eat and enjoy each other’s company I began to feel like I couldn’t breathe.  I had to leave, I had to go home and just be by myself. The truth is I was not ready for the 'life goes on' conversations and laughter that I knew was waiting there at the picnic.

I feel like I need to confess that since our son’s enlistment two years ago, I find myself not feeling compassion for mothers who lament of their sons or daughters leaving the nest for college or maybe even a summer camp. I find myself thinking so what, you can go pick them up anytime you want, you know they are on the soil of our country that is free, you know exactly where they are, you know that on the weekend they will be home back safely in your arms.

I expressed these feelings to the Preacher one day. He understood because he feels the pain of separation too, but he reminded me of how I felt when our son would go off to camp. He reminded me of how I felt the day we moved our son into his own college apartment. At every milestone there has been a sense of loss and the feeling that you are the only one having to deal with that loss.

We are all mother’s and our children are our lives and we each have to endure their leaving.   So to all of the mothers out there who are feeling the pain of a son or daughter inching their way, little by little, out of your nest, I apologize. I apologize if I have not seemed more sympathetic. I apologize for not understanding your pain. I apologize for not being better at offering my shoulder to cry on. I ask for your patience.

As we did two years ago, the Preacher and I ask for your prayers of safety for our son.  

We are praying for your sons and daughters too.

Love from the Preacher and I 

Parallel Worlds – So Different Yet So Similar

Our Prison Ministry Team standing outside the Prison
Photo taken by Juan Rios

The Preacher and I were finishing up working in the office on a Friday evening when I received a text from a friend asking if we would like to meet for dinner. We had not been with them in quite some time and they wanted to reconnect. They were dealing with life changes and wanted some advice on life choices and prayer was much appreciated. We met later that evening. We laughed, we ate, we discussed what if's, we reconnected. The Preacher and I then went home with our stomachs full of good food and our hearts full of love for our friends and for each other.

Early the next morning our Prison Ministry Team met to go to a men's correctional facility 60 miles from our church. We were going to this prison to bring songs of praise and words of wisdom through the Message of the Bible. We entered the front doors of the prison and while going through our security checks we were told of a lock down that had occurred the night before. We were to wait for the guards to check and see if we would be able to see the men, the men who are the church inside these barbed-wire, concrete walls. 

We were given the okay and proceeded down the locked door hallways to our little room we use as a chapel and began to set up. The men slowly made their way to the room. They have smiles on their faces, they are happy to see us. One of the prisoners begins to tell us of the events that took place the night before.

While the Preacher and I were having dinner in a restaurant with our friends a man was being stabbed in the prison. The prisoner's cells were being ransacked by guards who were on high alert. They were ripping apart men's beds and personal belongings looking for more weapons. After the confusion and danger subsided, the men went back to their torn up cells and began the clean-up. Sleep did not come easy nor did it come peacefully.

Did this prisoner, who was telling the story, go on to tell us what a horrible, scary place this prison is? No, he went on to say how he loves the Lord and how he asks God everyday for His discernment. This is something he had never done before walking behind those thick, iron gates.

Upon hearing the prisoner praising the Lord, I stopped and reflected on all I had heard. I thought of the events that took place in my life, in my world, the night before. 

Here this man is living in a world where he is confined to small living quarters, his comings and goings are monitored 24 hours a day, and where danger is around every corner, and yet he sits before us proclaiming his love for Christ and is content where he is. Do I proclaim my love for Christ when life throws hard choices, hard situations and hard people in my life? Would I praise Him if I lived in constant danger? I would like to say that I would but I know better. Many times I don't praise Him in my hard days.

I saw our parallel worlds that morning, the prisoner's and mine. Two completely different worlds and yet so similar. Similar in the since that in some ways we can find ourselves imprisoned by our sin. 

His words changed my perspective of my world. In the eyes of God I too am a sinner just as the prisoner. Even though we live in two different worlds, we both still need a Savior. The prisoner is finding his Savior behind barbed-wire fences. I have no fences keeping me locked away, but I still need to find my Savior. We think our life is so much easier, but is it really?

I never would have thought a man locked behind prison walls would ever minister to me but the Lord always finds a way to show His glory, especially in the least likely places.

Love from the Preacher and I

The Preacher Wept

The Preacher walks into the room. He is returning from his morning run. I look up to greet him when I see that his eyes are red, tears are flowing down his cheeks. I immediately ask him what is wrong. He can't talk, he just sits down in a chair. I ask again, thinking he has hurt himself, or he has received a call of bad news. He shakes his head no, none of the above. He bends over, head in his hands, crying, and he cries out, "Why doesn't prayer work?". I hold him tight.

This same morning I had been reading my devotions. The scripture that was used was John 11:35, "Jesus wept." Those two words say so much about our Savior, of who He is. 

Over the years I have read and seen movies of super heroes. Men and women who use their super powers to save the girl, save towns, and save the world. None do I remember crying. But here is Jesus, the True Savior of the world, crying.

He is crying over the death of His dear friend Lazarus. Maybe He is even crying over the disbelief of the people who have come to the graveside. Had Jesus prayed to the Father for Lazarus' healing? We don't know, but we know he mourned the loss of His friend. Even though Jesus knew He would raise his friend from the dead, there was still a moment of grief. Pain came before the healing.

The actions of the Preacher that morning say so much about who he is too.

The Preacher raises up from the chair and rubs his eyes. I ask again what is wrong. He proceeds to tell me that while on his run he was thinking of a friend whom he had been counseling. This friend had not grasped the grace that God offers and was proceeding down to a very dark place. He was in the pain and could not see the healing. The Preacher had been praying so hard for his friend.

The Preacher is not a super hero. He is not the savior of the world. He doesn't have any super powers. What he does have is his love for his friends, for his church members, for his family, and for the stranger that he meets by chance. 

The Preacher is human. He grieves with a big heart and he loves with a big heart. Maybe, just maybe he does have super powers after all.

Love from the Preacher and I

Let the Little Children Come Unto Me

The Preacher and I attended the CAFO, Christian Alliance for the Orphan, Conference this past week. It is a two day conference dedicated to children. Children from around the world and children here in our own backyards. Story after story we heard of children who have lost parents to death, children who have been abandoned and children who have been preyed upon. We also heard the stories of the foster and adoptive parents who have taken on the life of adoption and fostering these children.

Throughout the conference the scripture, "Let the little children come to me." (Matthew 19:14), kept running through my head. 

Who are the next generation to spread the Good News? It is our children. Who better for Satan to attack and kill than the children. I believe he will do anything he can to keep the children of this world from hearing and spreading the Word of God.

The men and women who organize this conference, I believe, understand this. That is why so many parents, church ministry teams and para-organizations find this conference a breath of fresh air. These people know that along with the hard times joy can be found. There were solutions given, explanations given, hope given and joy given. There was a collective praise for the solutions, for the explanations, for the hope, and praise for the joy.

I think out of all of the speakers and presenters, I thought that Rephat Nyarenda of The Micheal Project said it best. He told the story of how he was orphaned at the age of 9 years old and placed into a foster home of a Zimbabwean couple. He had never seen a washing machine before and he was fascinated the first time he saw his foster mother washing clothes. While the machine was running he decided he needed to open it and fine out how it worked. Due to the machine being engaged in its wash cycle the door was locked, but that did not stop Rephat. He pulled on the door until he got it opened. This of course broke the machine. 

He immediately began to plan his escape, of packing his bags and running. He began to think of who he could blame, but when his foster mother came into the room she asked, "Rephat, did you break the machine?", and he said, "Yes." Truth had been said. She bent low and gave him a hug wrapped tightly and gave him forgiveness by saying, "It's okay."

Two little words said so much to this orphaned child. Through out his Christian journey he remembered the words of his foster mother and knew his Savior was saying the same words, "It's okay!" These two words say forgiveness, they give healing hope and they give peace.

So the next time you see an adoptive parent, a foster parent or even a biological parent struggling with their battle with Satan who is fighting for their children's souls, tell them the Lord wants to wrap them into a hug held tightly and tell them "It's okay" and to keep fighting. Satan will not have your children today!

Here are some pictures from the conference --

Dennis Rainey, Family Life

Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts

Josh Shipp, Teen Expert & Former Foster Youth

Andrew Peterson & the Carrolton Band

The Preacher and our friend, Norah, waiting for the morning session to begin

Love from the Preacher and I