Spiritual War Fare

You prepare a feast for me

in the presence of my enemies.

You honor me by anointing my head with oil.

My cup overflows with blessings.

Surely your goodness and unfailing love will pursue me

all the days of my life…

all the makings for an incredible cashew pesto…

I had many a conversation with many a son and daughter of God, this past 2023. In almost every case, nearly without fail, people are embattled. In some cases, deeply so.

It makes sense, because we do have an enemy, and he is not “flesh and blood”. Our enemy is a soul-realm-enemy, but the fact that he operates in the soul and cannot kill our body doesn’t make him less dangerous. It makes him more dangerous.

A few weeks ago, and true to our yearly tradition, Tim and I watched the old Christmas movie “It’s a Wonderful Life”. The same line always grabs my full attention, every year - the opening bit when the two angels are having a conversation:

Franklin: A man down on Earth needs our help.
Clarence: Splendid! Is he sick?
Franklin: No, worse, he's discouraged.

…breakfast.

We’ve all heard of “MRE’s” - Meals Ready to Eat - used by our military. The Institute of Medicine did a comprehensive study of humans under combat conditions and determined that service members (who were classified as highly active persons between the ages of 18 and 30) typically burn about 4,200 calories a day, but tended to only consume about 2,400 calories a day during combat, entering a negative energy balance.

If not addressed, this negative energy balance can prove to be dangerous for national security. It occurs when service members fail to consume full portions of their rations. The reason for this? Usually great stress, and discouragement.

In other words, the provision has been made for the warrior. It has been meticulously measured and portioned for their highest good and for the achievement of victory. But if the warrior becomes discouraged or distracted and won’t eat it, eat all of it, he will weaken over time.

I will never forget walking in on this scene (see above image). It was a table prepared for me on a chilly autumn day in mid-October in Woodstock, Vermont. I had spent a glorious (but laborious) week teaching women in a beautiful workshop facilitated by Laura McCollough of Art and Faith Creative

On this particular evening, we convened at a beautiful red barn, owned and run by the historic Woodstock Inn. We’d spent some time walking the property before being called to dinner, and by the time we were summoned inside I was cold and hungry. The barn doors slid open, and smiling staff beckoned.

Just look at what met my gaze.

The aroma of the food was the first thing I noticed. After that, I saw how every detail had been meticulously prepared beforehand. You better know I relished every bite.

Hey you. You, there, in the absolute thick of it. You with the four small children. You, who just retired and your fixed income won’t cut it. You, caring for your aging dad. You with the newborn. You with the diagnosis. You who just made a sickening discovery. You who feels betrayed or abandoned.

Eat.

Your Heavenly Father saw all this chaos coming, before it ever landed on your door. He designed your “MRE” - sufficient to the day.

But you gotta sit down and eat it. Eat every single thing on the plate.

You must relish that sermon. Read the chapter of that book. Hear the word of the Lord in the lips of that friend. Buy the flowers. Open the sketchbook. Take the walk.

Feed your soul on what is true and beautiful before you wither up.

Let this blog post be your appetizer.

PS. I love you.

Rocky Mountain High

The Preacher and I just returned from a trip to Colorado.

We attended a minister’s conference hosted by Andrew Wommack and Charis Bible College. This year (2023) was our first year to go to the minister’s conference, which celebrated its 40th consecutive year while we were there! The teaching was rich, and the connections felt solid and substantial.

One of ARMI’s regional leaders (Association of Related Ministers International) who is also a dear friend, told us that the conference had more than doubled in size since just last year. So we felt a bit like fish out of water.

We sat in a room with about 2,000 people. We are not accustomed to that.

Therefore, since we are now part of ARMI: we adapted.

The second thing we weren’t accustomed to, was a minister’s conference that went Monday through Friday.

Therefore: we adapted.

The third thing we were not accustomed to, was incredible facilities. Jaw dropping facilities. Built with zero debt.

There’s a soothing, gorgeous, at least two stories tall waterfall inside the building. There’s a great little coffee shop and bookstore. Every single person there was happy to serve.

Upstairs, in the mezzanine, there had to be at least 50 leather couches, in more than a dozen well appointed conversational groupings, with a view directly looking at Pike’s Peak.

The dining area was like a very large, very fine restaurant, complete with large round tables, tablecloths, plush padded seats, and an enormous stacked stone fireplace. It was all absolutely stunning. And with one goal: to facilitate deep connections. We happily adapted.

Here’s where we did not need to adapt: we know the presence of God, when He broods over a gathering. We felt right at home. We don’t know any other way, except to be authentic, and therefore we make deep and authentic friendships. The favor of God rests upon us, and meeting people comes easy for us. We felt well within our element, in that respect.

And we two are still in love, and we know how to spend time together. If a conference structure doesn’t allow enough time for that, well, we know what must take precedent: our romance. We know exactly how to be Bohemians, and keep important principles but break picky rules, and therefore leaving some sessions early to go roam Woodland Park came really, really easy to us.

(…we laughed so hard at this one…)

We found out that we are highly adaptable, can function under less-than-optimal conditions (our VRBO was absolute garbage - with a busted double bed, in a musty shed that they advertised as a “cozy cabin”. Buyer beware), that we are blessed and incredibly favored, and that altitude is a thing.

But we thrashed it. We hiked, frolicked, friended, explored, prayed, laughed, cried, sang, and basically wore ourselves out, acting half our age.

Until next year, Colorado. Until next year.

With deep gratitude for all the great lifelong friendships that have led up to this season of our lives, with excitement for what now is, and all the incredible new connections we are making, and with great hope for the future.

Because the next Great Awakening will be stewarded into the earth through Great Relationships.

Thanks, Andrew Wommack, for your incredible vision. Thank you Greg and Janice Mohr, Mark and Jennifer Machen, Jeremiah and Stacey Johnson, Brad and Celina Holliman, Randall Barrington, Rob and Glenda Rufus, Charis Bible College, and all who we’ve met and fallen in love with since 2018. We stand ready to serve. My goodness, we are thankful.

And it’s so so good to be home. I can’t wait to get in the studio to paint some scenes I sketched in Colorado.