The Good Gift in Alaska

One day, years ago, I received a phone call that rocked me. A dear friend was hurt. She'd been hurting for a while and she needed help. Her husband called to ask me why I hadn't reached out and offered any assistance to her or their family. He sternly reminded me of all of the times she'd helped me. I could hear his disappointment as he scolded me for failing to reach out to her and let me know how hurt she was that I hadn't and he also let me know that he expected me to make it right.

I was shattered. He was absolutely right.

The following day I called to apologize to my friend and offered my assistance. I arranged a time to go to her home and do whatever needed doing. I ended up scouring her bathroom until I could see my reflection smiling back at me in the toilet bowl! 

It became crystal clear to me just how weak the gift of service/helps is for me during that humbling experience. Seriously, I score higher on every other spiritual gift listed in scripture when I take any sort of "spiritual gift inventory". Exhortation, now that is where I'll shine! I'll put so much energy into a conversation while encouraging someone that I won't even notice the tables and chairs being broken down around me at a gathering until I'm asked to stand up so someone can take the chair that I'm sitting on! After that difficult phone call, I began to pray about better recognizing opportunities to serve. 

My husband has service as his #1 gift and I see him practice it all the time. It's absolutely seamless for him to offer assistance in any number of circumstances. He's served on a mission team to Guatemala more than a dozen times over the years and LOVES IT. He is always doing little things for me that are a tremendous help. Acts of Service is his love language. My youngest daughter is the same way.

A few years back she said "Mom, let's go on that Alaska family missions trip with church. I wanna help those kids in the parks." My reply, "Ummmmmm, Ok. If that's something you're interested in, I'll do it." Not exactly an enthusiastic response.

I went. I served. I enjoyed it. I watched my daughter do what God called her to do there. I helped, but much of the experience was uncomfortable for me. I wasn't really inspired to particular action but did what I knew to do. Talked with kids, played a little and cleaned up after people. I did what I was asked to do and I watched God work and that was wonderful. I learned things about myself and those folks that we were serving. I practiced my strongest spiritual gift, exhortation/encouragement, as often as possible. The bottom line is that the movement of God matters enough to me that when we had the opportunity to return the following year, we did. The year after that the timing wasn't right for us and we didn't go to Alaska and my husband took our daughter to serve on a team in Guatemala instead.

 

The following year I was asked to lead the kitchen team for the Alaska trip.

That involves planning menus and shopping and organizing the team to complete the tasks needed to prepare breakfast, lunch, and dinner for 80-120 people that have come from across the US to serve with GraceWorks. I hadn't seen that opportunity coming. While it didn't shock me, it WAS a surprise. Kitchen work is my day job and it's not occurred to me to serve with those skills anywhere. Again, service is not my strength, it simply doesn't enter my mind. You'd think it would. "Oh, someone needs help in the kitchen. I'll lend a hand." Nope. That is not a thought that runs through my head!

Covid hit and we weren't able to take that trip.

Over the next year I found myself thinking about menu ideas and how to work with the different equipment available in the GraceWorks kitchen. Sometimes things just need to percolate for me to fully embrace them. God knows this about me.

When the opportunity came around again I was prepared to say yes! I raised funds. I prepared menus. I made lists and I prepared my heart to go. My head hit the pillow of my bunk in Alaska around midnight on Sunday night and I was awake well before my 5 am alarm on Monday morning. The kitchen crew would report at 6:30 am and I headed down at 6 to spend some time with God and get my feet under me. After my personal prayer time, I opened my Bible to I Corinthians 15:57.  "But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ." This would be the verse for the day for the teams that I was feeding all day. These teams would serve communities in city parks throughout Anchorage. As I began to pray the verse about victory for those serving in the parks, the Holy Spirit drew my attention to verse 58. "Therefore, my dear brothers and sisters, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain." I began to meditate on this verse and pray it over the kitchen service daily while offering my labor for the Lord to use as He would. Of course, something amazing happened.

I moved through the week experiencing such a depth of purpose!

As a result, I found myself able to prioritize evening rest in order to prepare well for the following day. This is unheard of for me! I do not well resist socializing in favor of rest. I love chatting with people and exploring and adventuring with others while getting to know them and I was rooming with 4 other women that I really wanted to know better! When people are around I stay up and out far too late. Whenever I head out for an evening with friends, I try to give my husband a time when I'll be home. He'll just wave me off, shake his head, and chuckle. While in Anchorage, I passed on moosing and hiking and beautiful view drinking in favor of sleep. Me! The Holy Spirit gently reminded me each evening "to give myself fully to the work of the Lord" because I couldn't have done that on my own!

Well-rested, I stepped into each morning excited about the work before me. I experienced a joy of service while in that kitchen that I have never experienced before while serving! There were challenges in the kitchen. Personality conflicts (we are only human after all), oven space and time puzzles, preparation of special diet items and menu shuffling all necessitated problem-solving...daily. But what a delight it was to have God use the skills He had equipped me with to serve those that were serving! And it connected me to the service of the community in the parks.

Please don't misunderstand. It's not as though I am suddenly inspired to cook for everyone all the time or that I see opportunities to serve all around me. My strongest gift, wiring, and abiding joy are still to exhort, teach and share stories of deep living with others. However, I now have a greater appreciation for the satisfaction and joy experienced by those that exercise the gift of service as naturally as their breath. This will allow me to better encourage them as they exercise their gift!

He always gives me much better gifts than those I offer Him. Serving in the kitchen at GraceWorks was an incredibly equipping gift that allowed me to better understand my brothers and sisters that are more gifted in serving than I. It also cultivated in me a deeper desire to serve than I've had before. And you know what else? After that week, I was privileged to spend 48 hours with my teammates moosing and hiking and beautiful view drinking while sharing stories of deep living with them.

"Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change." James 1:17

A Little Girl's Prayer

 

    I've been thinking a lot about prayer lately.

    When I was young I was convinced that I was missing something and there must be a sort of formula that made prayer work. It didn't feel like God listened or really helped me out with my problems. I was tempted to just ditch the prayer thing, but I saw the truth of Scripture and I couldn't turn my back on it.

    I was missing SOMETHING...time! Time to grow a little and to cultivate my relationship. Time to learn and understand more about who He is. Time to invest in the tools and knowledge of my faith.

    I now have journals full of prayers and I cherish the conversations had there. Sometimes prayers written by others have guided my prayer life into a depth I had difficulty finding on my own. I've also been through seasons where nothing moves beyond my lips or fingertips to pray. At those times, my prayers have been an ache that pains my heart or drips from my eyes during worship.

    During a conversation I was involved in many years ago someone asked about "finding God".  Another involved in the conversation expressed the necessity for personal acceptance of the Savior, believing, forgiveness, eternal life and going to hell otherwise. A back and forth conversation ensued without resolution. I felt unsettled continuing along this line and my heart leapt through my lips as I was reminded, "Those who seek Him will find Him. If you really want to know God and understand. Pray. He will show you who He is." Wide eyes stared back at me from both parties and the conversation ended.

    But that is exactly what I did to cultivate my prayer life. Sought Him. Day to day. Season after season. Sometimes in study, sometimes in active prayer, sometimes in beauty.

    When I am tempted toward disbelief or misbelief because of a lengthy time spent waiting or a very loud NO that I am less than thrilled about, I am drawn back to the stake-in-the-ground answers He has provided over the years.

    This request for prayer was shared May 16, 2010. About 17 days before God brought us the man that was the answer to my sweet girl's prayer.

It was sometime last fall that Lydia noticed that the other single-mom-parented kids she's friends with have dads. Unlike ours.

I don't coddle my girls about their dad being gone. I haven't allowed them to use not having a dad as an excuse in their lives. It's the life we have. I try to model for them an acceptance of God's sovereignty in every area and point out the myriad of ways He meets our needs in the husband and father areas of life. And believe me He does. I have moments. But, He is ALWAYS faithful. ALWAYS.

Tonight my sweet Lydia asked to pray on her own at bedtime.

"God, could you please send a man to be a daddy. It makes me sad when I see my friends with daddys. It isn't fair that I can't have a daddy."

I snuggled her close to me as I choked back my tears and kissed her dear little cheek. It wasn't easy to address her theology, but I did. Sometimes I feel it's not fair either and we can tell Him that. I want her to know she can talk with Him about everything. She can be upset and He understands how she feels. He can take it. But we need to remember that God can see lots of things we can't see and He loves us desperately enough to not worry about if we see things as "fair".

We prayed together.

"God, thank you for hearing us when we share our hearts with You. I would really like a husband to share my life with and Lydia would really like a daddy. We know that you will meet every need that we have. If it's Your will and in Your perfect timing will You please send a man that would be a wonderful husband and an exceptional daddy for our family. Amen."

She then asked if Abigail would share the request with her prayer team.

And so I am sharing it also with you.

Please join our prayer that God would send the right man along for our family.

   

    Seek Him. You WILL find Him.

Just A Car...

My husband and I had our first difficult conversation about my car when I took it in for a little work. The service person came out to talk with me about the check-up and let me know I needed about $7000 worth of work done! I called my husband crying. I wasn’t even sure why I was crying, but I knew $7000 wasn’t going into the car even if we had it. No repairs were urgently needed and as I headed home I began to examine my response to the idea I would be parted from this car. I was really shaken about my own response about a car and my husband teased me about that attachment.

That was probably around six years ago and for a long while now, my husband has been “encouraging” me pretty regularly to consider purchasing a newer vehicle. I’ve been dragging my feet about it. Having no car payment is really nice and there are a lot of factors to consider when looking at cars to purchase. It can be overwhelming to start looking.

I have a 2005 Honda Pilot. The air conditioning hasn’t worked for about 3 years now. Of course, summer is the only time I really notice it. Additionally, I’m guessing a chunk of yuck broke free from the cabin filter and now if the fan is running you can hardly hear yourself think for the racket it makes. The good thing about the air conditioner not working is that I only have to listen to the blower racket about 5 to 6 months out of the year when I need the heat running. Of course, in order to keep cool in summer, I just roll the windows down and that’s rather loud as well.

I had my Dad advising me closely when I bought the 2005 Honda Pilot...in 2005. He’s keen on technology, Dad is. Told me to make sure I got “that bluetooth” in any vehicle I purchased. Bluetooth was just becoming available in newer, standard model vehicles. In 2005, the only vehicle on the Honda line with bluetooth was Civic. I wasn’t buying a Civic for multiple 5 hour, one-way drives to my parents in the frozen northern tundra of Minnesota with 2 little girls. I wanted something sturdy with all-wheel or 4-wheel drive. I wasn’t going to try to pack future friends of my growing up girls into a Civic either. I passed on bluetooth. Really, speakerphone is just fine unless you have a blower running so loudly you can’t hear anyone and they can’t hear you. Or maybe the windows are rolled down so you can at least get some breeze over the sweat on your arms for relief from the heat. In either case you don’t really care to be talking with someone. You crank the radio loud and listen to some music. The 2005 Honda Pilot has a good enough sound system to do that.

Fixing the tire on a Montana backroad. So many adventures.

Right now, that Pilot has over 220,000 miles on it, but I know that it will go to 300,000 and I considered that carefully before I made the purchase. Let me tell you, it was a monumental decision and I agonized over making it a good one, but not for the reasons you might think.

When I left my first husband in October of 2004, I no longer had card access or passwords to any of our bank accounts. My name wasn’t on any assets and I didn’t have a credit card in my name. I had no credit.

Then he was gone.

I had to make choices for myself and my girls. Financing a vehicle wasn’t only a foundational decision for future financial health, it was the first major financial decision I’d made on my own in quite some time. Throughout the process I felt the weight of the responsibility and the determination to value the freedom of it. I weighed what was needed in a vehicle. Reliability was priority one. I remember calculating how long I would need to drive a brand new car to make the year-by-year cost reasonable. I thought about maintenance costs and mpg and what features I would really need to have for the life of the car. I made my decision and have found myself praying and praising behind the wheel often for that car and it’s reliability and God’s faithfulness to me in so many ways over the years since its purchase. It has taken us back and forth across the state for visits to grandparents and summer camps. It’s driven me and my bike and equipment out of the city for training rides and for triathlons. It’s taken our family on memory-making trips camping and adventuring.

My husband and I began to seriously look at newer vehicles in the last few months and I had to examine more deeply the growing hesitation I was experiencing. I knew driving that car as long as I did contributed to the financial health of our family. Was that it? Did I somehow believe that making that decision to purchase a newer, more reliable vehicle would ruin our financial health? It wouldn’t. No. We knew what we could afford and were in agreement about it. Could it be that I was really that emotionally attached to a car because it had been my first really big independent financial decision? I’m sure that might be part of it, but I wanted to step out of the past and had done that with so many things that I had a hard time believing it to be that entirely. I continued to pray that the Lord would show me what was left to let go.

My husband had begun looking for vehicles pretty much the second I said I thought we should start seriously looking. We talked about it for weeks. Teslas and Subarus and Toyotas and Hondas. Towing capacity, mileage and maintenance and repair costs. After all the discussion and number crunching, he arranged for a pre-owned Honda Pilot to be brought to our door for a test drive. Yep. Another Pilot. It ended up being exactly what we were looking for….and then some.

We were literally on our way to the dealership to sign papers the next day and I was still trying to sort out my feelings around all of it. As we talked about the anxious knot in my stomach, the tears began to flow as I recognized what that last tether was tying me to the 2005 Honda Pilot. The 2005 Honda Pilot was MINE. It was registered to me. The title was in my name. During the short time we had dated we discussed finances and our considerations about what would be healthy for our relationship. WE made financial decisions together. The paperwork and financing for this newer vehicle would list both of us. That was what had me all knotted up. How would he respond if I didn’t keep it as tidy as he would like? I already knew his view of how I run the gas gauge down to empty all the time before filling the tank on the 2005 Honda Pilot. (Not favorable.) What would the consequences be if he didn’t like how I adjusted things for my comfort and convenience? I began to share this with him. Mind you, we share things all the time! Really, even decadent desserts. I consider his preferences and he considers mine. It’s likely why he suggested another Honda Pilot! Even as we discussed it he offered to put the vehicle in my name out of his care for me.

I declined immediately.

I took a deep breath, wiped away the tears clinging to my cheeks and made a conscious choice to trust. Again. I take very much for granted this man’s kindness and tender care of me. God’s grace allowed me to step into a space that I haven’t needed to be in for a long time. It’s a difficult space to bring your baggage into. You must set it down in order to take full deep breaths, to embrace the abundance that the Holy Spirit bestows while you are there.

Then, before you know it, you are stepping forward and you’ve left the baggage behind while running toward the next adventure with the One that loves you best and most. An adventure that seems to include me finding myself praying and praising behind the wheel of a 2015 Honda Pilot.

This is Betty. Betty White.