Sunday, September 22, 2013

family ties.

I've been thinking about family a lot today. 

I don't know if everyone feels this about their family, but I've always thought that mine is one in a million. When I was in elementary school and learned that when a girl gets married she changes her last name to her husband's, that did it for me- forget that marriage junk. 

My grandparents are two of the most amazing people that I've ever known and wished that I knew more. They love people in a way that works hard and prays consistently. They have a testimony that is solid and true- two people who have run the race and fought the good fight together. 

I went to work in high school at the same camp, Thousand Pines, that my grandma and grandpa had worked for for decades. This camp was where my parents had met and been married; my dad was the "cool" lifeguard who had a crush on the "hot" counselor (my mom). He wooed her one summer with his pancake making skills and horse that he told her was named Wildfire, but was really named Cocoa. I could be getting this story totally wrong, but this is what you told me, dad. And mom. 

Anyhow, my parents met there. And that's also where I met Ricky. He did not have a horse. 

My grandma and grandpa worked at Thousand Pines with generations of staff coming and going for different summers. My grandma ran the kitchen and my grandpa ran what seems like everything else. Walking through Thousand Pines as a kid, I always felt like my grandpa had built the whole place. I loved this camp because I loved my family- it was ours, at least it was to me.  

I worked there for several years and even though my grandparents had long since moved on in retirement, I got to know them so much more in that time. People that I worked with who had worked with them had so much love for them- stuff like stories about how my grandpa had changed their life while they did maintenance together one summer, or how no one could run the kitchen like my grandma did. I'd be hostessing women's groups in the dining room and somehow someone would mention my grandma, and ladies with tears in their eyes would tell me what a dear friend or amazing boss she was and how blessed I was to be her granddaughter. 

And I am blessed. I'm blessed to have had the prayers of two fierce prayer warriors going before me in my life. I think of my husband who loves Jesus so much and who works so hard at everything he puts his hands to, my kids who are so darn smart and healthy and wonderful, and I thank God that He saw fit to give me such a heritage and testimony. My Grandma and my Grandpa are one in a million. 

My Grandpa joined Jesus today in His eternal and heavenly home, and while my heart grieves and realizes that this world is less one amazing man today, I know that my one in a million grandpa heard that "Well done" from His Savior and Friend, and I'm glad. What a blessing to have been someone who got to see and experience the fruit of that well done life.

I love you Papa Bear. 

Thursday, September 12, 2013


Colorado is literally under water right now. For real, google it. Floods are raging, bridges are collapsing and people are evacuating. 

Gnarly, right? 

Before I continue, I feel like I need to give this disclaimer: 

I am not someone who spiritualizes everything. I think that's weird. When Jovie throws a fit, I don't chuckle and say "that's so like me and Jesus."Just not my thing. 

 I am someone who really appreciates the pictures and symbolism in the Bible. Books like Christ in the Tabernacle (AB Simpson) and Christ Indwelling and Enthroned (J Oswald Sanders) are some of my faves, because they help paint those pictures of theological realities in ways that are vivid and real- easier to get my hands on.  Does that make sense? (I'm writing and trying to squelch a nap time rebellion at the same time, so please forgive me if there's editing that's yet to happen.) 

So Colorado is under water. 

For two years Ricky and I have been praying for moisture out here. Not literal moisture, but the Holy Spirit kind of saturation that comes through prayer. We've had several visions (don't kook out on me here) of floods, rivers and dams bursting forth in Denver as the Holy Spirit is poured out. We pray and we pray, and that feeling of standing at the edge of revival is real- like you can taste it in the air. And as we pray for revival, the pictures that we get are always water- gushing, rushing, pouring water. 

I do not think that Ricky and I convinced God to flood Colorado. Just throwing that out there. 

But I love this visual reminder that our God is able and powerful. 

This Sunday is a biggie. 

It's the first meeting of Pilgrim City Church. 

You guys, these are our people. And we're more excited about this than we've been in years. 

The LORD hears, friends. All of the crying out for people and fellowship- the longing that we've had for more than playing church out here (if you've been to Denver, you know what I'm talking about); the LORD hears. We've been pleading for a powerful move of the Spirit, and Jesus has been so gracious to remind us that we aren't alone in that plea; He's encouraged us tremendously through prophetic words from dear friends, early morning Bible times and corporate times of prayer. 

And that revival that's brewing.... 
God is able and willing, amen? 

"Be patient, therefore, brothers, until the coming of the Lord. See how the farmer waits for the precious fruit of the earth, being patient about it, until it receives the early and latter rains. You also, be patient. Establish your hearts, for the coming of the LORD is at hand." 
James 5:7-8. 

We're just waiting for that precious fruit. 

There are so many more specifics that I'm itching to get into, but that's another day, another nap time rebellion......