Don't Drink the Water

       While in Mexico, Chris and I were warned to not drink the water.  The likelihood of us becoming ill from the water was very high.  Bottled water became our friend; we could go nowhere without it.  And Mexico in August is hot, especially in the desert.  It makes you thirsty. 

       Thirst is part of being alive.  All living things need water.  But not all water is the same.  Thirst can drive us to do many things.  We can even grab the closest, easiest thing to try to ease the dry burning sensation of thirst.  We go to many substances in an attempt to quench the thirst that is magnified by this life.  We become like my two year old, who went to the toilet.

       One day, late in the morning, the children and I were sitting at the table conversing and enjoying one another’s company.  It was a rare peaceful moment.  Then I see a look of shock and horror come across my daughter’s face.   “What are you drinking, Elias?  Is that from the toilet?!”  I glanced over and saw my  son calmly walking away from the bathroom.  He was cherishing a green Tupperware cup full of precious water that he had collected from the toilet.  He took a long deep drink from the cup and my children erupted.  Some tried to grab it away from him, others expressed their disgust and turned away, and I admit, I just laughed.   He would not let us take it away from him.  He had found a way to take care of his thirst and he was quite proud of his discovery.  He was tired of waiting and asking for a drink of water, the water that comes from our well.  Our well water is quite good.  My husband says it is some of the best water he has ever had.  We are blessed with our water because the source is good. 

        My son did not know that the source he had gone to was a potentially unhealthy one.  He would have to rely on someone else showing and guiding him to a better source.   He needed to drink from the well. 

       Our responses to my son’s efforts to satisfy his thirst were varied.  Probably none of them were good.  We turned away, showed our disgust, and we were thankful that none of us were holding the cup of toilet water.  Someone needed to take Elias by the hand and explain that there was a better place to drink from. 

       Chris and I went to Mexico to be water carriers.  We came with the Source that had quenched our own thirst.  Some laughed as we offered the life giving water we had brought, others were intrigued, and still others practically grabbed it out of our hands and drank it down. 

I still carry around the same life giving water I had with me in Mexico.  Sometimes I offer it freely, other times I turn away in disgust, and other times I laugh in derision.  

      Many people are like my son, thinking they have found an excellent source to satisfy their souls.  I was reminded when I saw my son, with his precious cup of toilet water, that I still have the all important task of water carrier.  As I drink from the Source, I am renewed and my heart is softened.   I hold out my cup of water again.  I remember that I can be a toilet drinker too. 

        We all must drink, but the places we drink from can be deadly.  The young woman who opens her throat to another bottle of Vodka to make the pain of a shameful life disappear,  the hurt young man who grabs for a pale cold shadow of love – even for a moment,  the young mother who swallows another pill to deaden the reality of being unloved, a lonely aging grandmother who tries to hide the bottles of wine behind the plates in the china cabinet, the ever promising entertainment and possessions we fill our days and hours with – dulling our senses and causing our souls to hunger all the more.  We find that we are empty and we discover that the thirst remains.   We long for a drink that will satisfy forever.          

                         ~Your Fellow Sojourner

             “Come, everyone who thirsts,

                        come to the waters;

            and he who has no money,

                        come, buy and eat!

            Come, buy wine and milk

                        without money and without price.

             Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread,

                        and your labor for that which does not satisfy?

            Listen diligently to me, and eat what is good,

                        and delight yourselves in rich food.

               Incline your ear, and come to me;

                        hear, that your soul may live;

            and I will make with you an everlasting covenant,

                        my steadfast, sure love for David.

            Behold, I made him a witness to the peoples,

                        a leader and commander for the peoples.

             Behold, you shall call a nation that you do not know,

                        and a nation that did not know you shall run to you,

            because of the LORD your God, and of the Holy One of Israel,

                        for he has glorified you.

             “Seek the LORD while he may be found;

                        call upon him while he is near;

            let the wicked forsake his way,

                        and the unrighteous man his thoughts;

            let him return to the LORD, that he may have compassion on him,

                        and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon.

             For my thoughts are not your thoughts,

                        neither are your ways my ways, declares the LORD.

            For as the heavens are higher than the earth,

                        so are my ways higher than your ways

                        and my thoughts than your thoughts.

             “For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven

                        and do not return there but water the earth,

            making it bring forth and sprout,

                        giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater,

             so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth;

                        it shall not return to me empty,

            but it shall accomplish that which I purpose,

                        and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it.

            “For you shall go out in joy

                        and be led forth in peace;

            the mountains and the hills before you

                        shall break forth into singing,

                        and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.

             Instead of the thorn shall come up the cypress;

                        instead of the brier shall come up the myrtle;

            and it shall make a name for the LORD,

                        an everlasting sign that shall not be cut off.”

              (Isaiah 55 ESV)

Turning Back

      I am a collector of stories.  I want to know the telling of someone else’s life, both true stories, and those stories that have been birthed only in the mind.  When I hear a story that has no ending, I put it into a category all its own.  “To be continued…”  Just like those television series that leave you on the edge of your seat.  You have to tune in next week for the conclusion, hopefully. 

      Stories are even more poignant when I am personally part of the story that is unfinished.  It means I must wait.  Some of the waiting can be easy and some can be all consuming.   But when a chapter of a story that has yet to be finished, ends with “thank you”, the waiting is eased.  I can put that story into the “ok, this is going to end alright” category.   The anxiety is lessened because I have been given the privilege to glimpse a little bit of the ending, and it promises to be good.  

       Many times I hope that the things that I do will make a difference in someone at some point.  My motives are not often good, for I find that I am looking for a certain ending in return.  But I am learning that I have no right to demand a particular outcome in someone else’s story, just as I am called to give without looking for payment in return.  “Go and be blessed” should be my refrain.  

     This is a freeing frame of mind for the giver.  It does not keep one in a place of burdened waiting, seeking the outcome of a life style change, a better person in the one that has been helped.  This outcome is not for me to seek.  This is the beauty of giving with an open hand, a hand that cannot close its fingers around anything.  It is the hand of giving that clings to nothing.  There is an immediate return of joy and peace for the one who gives and then seeks nothing else. 

     Two times I found myself on the receiving end of “thank you” this year.  To say my heart was full was an understatement.

      A neighbor girl who lived next to us for the latter half of her childhood turned back to thank me this year.  We had talked and prayed and cried into the night with this girl, pleading with her to run to God for the healing of her hurt and wounded heart.  A meal here, a time to laugh there, the gift of a kitten, a pair of shoes for the prom, a bowl of ice cream, a Christmas card and a hundred hugs.  But the story continued on, and we did not know the ending.  Then, from another state and another time in her life, she turned back.   “I never told you, Ms. Kate, but …”  I sat there, tears of joy flowing into a hand that had been kept open.  Category change.

      Another one came and knocked on our door last night.  A family, not yet all together, came to say hello and to let us know they were ok.  They had moments of need and crisis in the past and we helped in the meager ways that we could – some meals, “you are welcome here”, some money, handshakes, and prayers.  It was not much and we knew it would not bring an ultimate solution to their problems.  But, we hoped that somehow they would remember our care for them.  They could have been us – it was an honor to help them.   “We just wanted to come by and tell you…”  A joyful  miraculous gift on Christmas.  A gift of “thank you”.  Another category change.

      Why does “thank you” mean so much?  I believe that a genuine thank you happens when a person has a deeper understanding of what it cost the giver.  It could have been a monetary cost or an emotional one, and most probably, the choice to give meant that the giver made himself vulnerable.  They know that someone else cared to help fill a need and mend a wound.  Saying “thank you” is a way to give back.  In the act of turning back, the thankful one stops to honor a person.  They build a memorial, not with stones, but with words.  Thankful words full of meaning that plant themselves into our souls.  Words that sow seeds of future grace.  Grace to open our hands again.  And so I pray, “Keep my hands open, Lord.  And when I receive from someone who is turning back, may I turn again to You, and give You thanks. Amen.”

                                                                  ~Your Fellow Sojourner

            “On the way to Jerusalem he was passing along between Samaria and Galilee. And as he entered a village, he was met by ten lepers, who stood at a distance and lifted up their voices, saying, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us.” When he saw them he said to them, “Go and show yourselves to the priests.” And as they went they were cleansed.  Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice; and he fell on his face at Jesus' feet, giving him thanks. Now he was a Samaritan.  Then Jesus answered, “Were not ten cleansed? Where are the nine? Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?” And he said to him, “Rise and go your way; your faith has made you well.”

 (Luke 17:11-19 ESV)

I've Never Met You, But I Love You

            When I do not love someone the way I ought, it is because I love myself more.  It is the great paradox of life.  To love in the purest way is to die to one’s self.  The world rails against selfless love and cannot comprehend it.

            Chris and I wondered at how we could love a small little family that we had never met before.  We recognized real genuine love and care for these people welling up in our hearts.  How does this happen?

            We love because Someone loved us first.  I cannot love like that, no expectations - no strings attached, if I had not known a love like that from someone else first.  It is a mystery and a miracle.  It is the love of God that compels us to put another before ourselves.

            If it was dependent on me, I could never love sacrificially without any expectations.  It must come from somewhere else.  I can be thinking only of myself and caring only for my own desires, and then from somewhere inside of me, a love and care evidences itself. I cannot love apart from a power that comes from God.

            And so, our little church family gathered around total strangers, motivated by love.  The love was mutual.  They had the same power to love, and we felt it. 

            For the rest of the day, whenever I spoke with someone who had met this family, their welfare was on their mind.  How can we help?  How can we pray?  What can I do?  We want them to know the type of love we have for one another. 

            As my husband said, “It is not wrong that we would be drawn to them and care for them like that.”  We were both quiet.  We knew we were experiencing a love that does not come from this world.  I knew we had an encounter that was planned from before the beginning of time.  Yes God, You care, You use us, You love us. 

            What did this meeting of strangers, that I now love, do in me?  It made me want to look up and out all the more.  Who else will I meet?  Who else will need prayer?  Who else will I have in my home?  Who else will I be privileged to love?

            As Ann Voskamp has said, ”When God is our God, we take His people as our people.” I hope the paper with my name and number and email causes them to know how much they are loved.  Loved by strangers, who never knew them, but who count them as their brother and their sister. 

                                                ~Your Fellow Sojourner

            [15] And she said, “See, your sister-in-law has gone back to her people and to her gods; return after your sister-in-law.” [16] But Ruth said, “Do not urge me to leave you or to return from following you. For where you go I will go, and where you lodge I will lodge. Your people shall be my people, and your God my God. [17] Where you die I will die, and there will I be buried. May the LORD do so to me and more also if anything but death parts me from you.” [18] And when Naomi saw that she was determined to go with her, she said no more.

(Ruth 1:15-18 ESV)

Come Thou Long Expected Tomatoes

            This summer I was bequeathed with a tomato plant.  I adopted it because I was the last stop before the garbage heap.  So, I rose to the challenge, and took the tomato plant home.

            I had grand ideas of luscious tomatoes all appearing on the vine in late summer due to my careful attention.  I decided to plant it close to the porch for protection and sun exposure and a reminder that I needed to water it. 

            I knew that my past track record in plant care was not a good one, but I was hoping that this time would be different.  And it was.  It grew and grew and became tall and healthy.  But no tomatoes.  How long until I would see the fruit?

            Today marks the first Sunday of Advent.  Our children know this season well.  We have been observing Advent for about four years now.  The Scripture reading, the Christmas hymns, the prayers, and of course the candle lighting.  You should have seen the first year we attempted to include Advent readings in our Christmas celebration.  It was interesting.  Children crying, Chris wondering if this was worth it, and several near misses involving fire.

            Now we are several years into it and our older children know all that will happen each night until Christmas.  It just flows.  Or, semi-flows, depending on how our two year old is feeling.  The years and repetition of looking expectantly for Jesus on Christmas Day are becoming a part of their own waiting.  The seeds we planted and the watering and care we have given to this part of our family worship is bearing real fruit now.  We can taste and see that yes, the Lord is good. 

            For several years now, I have been leading the children in a morning family devotional.  It was nothing short of painful for a long time.  The only thing that kept me forging ahead was the Word of God.   I could not get around it.  God wants me to disciple my children.  They need the daily life giving manna of God’s Word.  So, most mornings, we got our Bibles out, sat on the couch and read and discussed and prayed.  The moans and groans slowly started to fade away and then one day, a little hand tugged at the sleeve of my robe and asked me when family devotions would begin?  The fruit was showing. 

            I see a pattern in the beginnings of things that Christ calls us to do.  It is hard to break up unused, fallow ground.  It is especially hard when you are doing it alone without any fanfare.  It becomes tiresome, and discouraging, doubting thoughts begin to circle overhead.  But then, after the months and years of the same thing, day after day, you begin to see what He is up to.  The seeds begin to sprout, the growth begins, and then one day, you catch a glimpse of real fruit.  For a planter and a tender of a garden of souls, there is absolutely nothing sweeter than this. 

            The tomatoes did come.  That beautiful plant that had survived the summer began to be heavy laden with big green tomatoes.  I had to laugh.  It was not until September that they showed.  Much too late I thought.  October came and the green tomatoes kept coming.  November was around the corner, and I was not looking forward to the day when frost or storm would take the green tomato plant down.  I had come so close.  I had decided that I probably would not attempt to care for another vegetable plant next summer.  I certainly was not gifted to grow anything.  Then, one late fall evening, my husband comes in with some red tomatoes.  “Where did you get those?”  “Oh, from your tomato plant.  Those green tomatoes – they are starting to turn red now.”  What?  I laughed out loud and then, I made a salad.  And yes, there were red tomatoes in our salad that evening.  The fruit had come, and I was in awe of how sweet November fruit can be.

                                                     ~ Your Fellow Sojourner

      “Blessed is the man who trusts in the LORD,

whose trust is the LORD.

       He is like a tree planted by water,

that sends out its roots by the stream,

       and does not fear when heat comes,

for its leaves remain green,

       and is not anxious in the year of drought,

for it does not cease to bear fruit.”

                      (Jeremiah 17:7-8 ESV)

Dinner With the Millers

       I tear up when we watch The Waltons.  Why?  I think it is because they remind me of my own family.  A simple way of life centering around God and family in a rural setting.  Older caring for younger, and hard life lessons that are not as harsh as they could be because of the love that binds them together.  And there is sin.  But as Scripture tells us, we are to let love cover over a multitude of sin.  And this we have experienced, just as the Walton family does.

            This summer we had dinner with the Millers.  While we were sitting at their simple dining room table, I commented to my oldest that I felt like we were having dinner with the Waltons.  He smiled and agreed with me.

            The Millers are a simple Mennonite family that we came to know through mutual friends.  We purchase home grown vegetables from them weekly during the summer.  They invited us to eat with them at the end of the season to share in the bounty that God had blessed them with.  Bounty from the land and from the love that they have for one another.

            I have connotations just like you.  I make assumptions about people based on what I often do NOT know.  I confess that I came into their home with assumptions that I had made about this family.  I smile now to think on those thoughts now.  How many of them were wrong. 

            They dress like the Amish.  Men in jeans and button downs with suspenders, women and girls in cotton dresses with heads covered, and most of them bare foot.  The home is functional not decorative.   Mr. Miller likes to say, “Everything has to earn its keep here.”  I like that! 

            Hospitality is a main event for the Millers.  Who will be at home for dinner?  What stories will be shared?  What will we laugh about?  Like the Waltons, there is no television, books are precious, the table always ready for another chair. 

            So we ate and shared stories.  The Millers are wonderful story tellers as you can imagine.  We were regaled by stories of packing van loads of children and grandchildren to go to Paraguay, where they spent years as missionaries.  Tales of Paraguayan jails and doing laundry out in the open air and walking barefoot to church and school. 

            After dinner, Mr. Miller took down the family Bible, old and black and tattered. He waited for the family to gather around him in their simple living room.  He never said a word, but he soon realized the children wanted to play and he gently put the Bible back on the shelf. He then settled into his chair to continue with his stories.  The older Miller children, there are five still at home, took our five children outside and played.  Our children learned how to play blind man’s bluff, mother may I, tag, and circle story telling – all under a beautiful, starry, late-summer Delaware sky. By the end of the evening, all of our children were barefoot and dirty, but thrilled.  The dirt washed away, but the encounter will be a part of their memory. 

            We had spent time, almost time out of time, with fellow brothers and sisters who like us, love the simple ways of life.  No frills, just life for the sake of Another, toward others. 

            I left meditating on one thing in particular.  They did not have much.  They gave much.  They lived plainly.  But every one of them smiled.  They smiled continually.  It was their joy that touched me; joy in living a life that makes room for others.

            As you can imagine, my children instantly wanted to see them again.  This summer, you can bet that the Williams children will all look forward to taking the ride to the Miller’s for the vegetable box with their daddy.  I think that I will look forward to it too.  I need that reminder of what life is really all about. 

            ~ Your Fellow Sojourner

            ” Now concerning brotherly love you have no need for anyone to write to you, for you yourselves have been taught by God to love one another, [10] for that indeed is what you are doing to all the brothers throughout Macedonia. But we urge you, brothers, to do this more and more, [11] and to aspire to live quietly, and to mind your own affairs, and to work with your hands, as we instructed you, [12] so that you may walk properly before outsiders and be dependent on no one.”

(1 Thessalonians 4:9-12 ESV)

What's For Dinner Mom?

            It had been a long day at home.  We had been busy and evening was upon us.  Chris and I were sitting on the couch and our children were intently playing outside.  We were tired and not feeling very creative.

            “You know we just had a late lunch.  I’m not very hungry.”  “I’m not either.”  “I bet the kids will be fine.  They can just eat whatever.  I’m not making dinner tonight.”

            And somewhere in the distance, a peal of thunder and lightning could be heard.  After I said those fateful words, everything began to change. 

            I felt new found freedom.  Maybe even euphoria!  All this time.  What am I going to do?  I felt like dancing.  I would not be making dinner for 7 tonight.  Mwah ha ha!!

            The first of the children trickled in and asked what we were having for dinner.  “I am not making dinner tonight.  You can have whatever you find.  I think there are some cookies on the counter.”   Cookies?!  Well, why not?  It won’t hurt every now and then. 

            Within a couple of hours, cookies were not cutting it anymore.  I began to suspect that my decision to “take a night off from the kitchen” was not going to be without its bumps in the road. 

            Now, we often don’t have fabulous, five course, home cooked meals.  But, Chris and I always have some kind of dinner for the kids, even if its just eggs and toast.  But I decided that I wouldn't help with anything.  Not even look for the hidden box of cereal. 

            Then, my husband began to feel the effects of my freedom declaration.  He came to me with a questioning look and asked what he was to do?  I just told him, “I don’t know.  Do whatever you want.”  It was not one of my shining helpmeet moments.  He was lost.  I was stalwart.  His support system was leaving him out in the open without any back-up.  The rabble were becoming more and more dissatisfied. 

            Within the hour, the pizza delivery menu came out. 

            So, when the children would have been going to bed, they were devouring pizza that had cost us more than dollars.  It had cost us peace and joy. 

             We laugh about it now.  But, I want you to know that I purposed to do things differently after the night that I freed myself from the kitchen’s chains.

            How many things do we do in our home, in our church, in our family, that we think don't matter much to other people?  That hug and kiss every morning and night.  Those fresh laundered sheets, still warm from the dryer on a child’s bed at night.  Finding the lost keys again for the thousandth time.   Telling a story from your childhood.   Taking the trash out. 

            Scripture tells us to not grow weary in well doing, and that we are to be faithful in little before we can be faithful in much.  As my husband likes to say, the home is the training ground for leadership in every other area of life.  All good leaders are servants first and foremost.

            I saw my role as helpmeet and mother through the eyes of six other people that day.  They looked to me for a reminder that they are loved and cared for. Love and care wrapped up in a meal.  It broke my heart.  I did not know that a simple thing like a meal could impact so much. 

            So, do not loose heart.  Press on.  Iron that shirt, scrub that toilet, spend hours on the cake that will be eaten in minutes.  Doing for others often rewards us far more than doing something that only benefits ourselves.  Show the love of Christ to someone else.  Let us die a little, and find life and joy in the serving of another.          

                  ~Your Fellow Sojourner

“We love because He first loved us.” 1 John 4:19

What Are You Doing Here?

          You know a trial when you meet one. Coming home to a broken air conditioner in 90 degree heat after church, receiving an unexpected bill in the mail that you cannot pay, cleaning up the same spilled peaches for the fourth time in the last ten minutes, waking up to the same foot pain every day, helping the same child with the same math problem over and over and over again. 

            These are all truly momentary and light afflictions.  Nothing that we go through will ever compare to the agony of the cross.  My sin for His righteousness.  My acceptance for His abandonment.  My idolatry for His faithfulness.  There is no trial or hardship that I have ever tasted that can ever come close to what Jesus suffered for me and you.

            God loves to use the unexpected in our lives.  It occurs every day.  These are moments that I never anticipate happening.   But what I do know is that I should never be surprised by unforeseen experiences.  These may be unknown to me, but not to Him.

            When God does something that I am not expecting, it is a reminder that I am never in control of the destiny of my life.  All my days have been written down before I ever knew them.  Past tense.  Written.  And so, I am meeting these times in my life, sometimes trials and sometimes not, with a new perspective. Like when I met a pig.

            I recently spent a few hours with a friend who needed some help around the house.  She has a newborn and I was looking forward to helping in any way I could.  I was able to do all that I wanted for her – cook, clean, and talk.  It blessed me to bless her.  I prayed that I would be able to help with anything that she would need.  And God ordained a way for me to do just that. 

            On my way out, I asked her if there was any last thing I could do for her before I left.  She came out of the yard with a somewhat concerned look and said that yes, she needed help with something.  It was her pig. 

            Her pig needed to be fed.  She assured me that if we fed the pig, it would stay in the pen and would resist the temptation to flee.  This, I did not want to see, and neither did my friend.  So, I was glad to help.

            The plan was that she would take a large stick and poke at it to keep it from coming out, while I would throw the container of pears into its pen.  Now, this pig that was desirous to come out was not a wee little pig, it was a right good size.  So, I calculated the exact speed and physical maneuvering that would be necessary for me to launch the pears into the pig’s pen.  I let my friend know I was ready, and as my friend poked this pig and opened the gate, I ducked in and gave the pig his pears.  Operation Pig was a success.

            It was a first for me.  Those who know me know that I do not have a warm fuzzy spot in my heart for the animal kingdom.  I don’t mind animals and I know that they are a creation from God and are very necessary.  I just don’t have any in close proximity to me.  So, this was out of the ordinary for me, in the realm of the unexpected. 

            I was pleased to help my friend and pleased to find that I was experiencing the unexpected.  Paul said we should not say that any of our plans are definite, but as the Lord wills.   We do not know what each day will bring.   Only the Lord knows.  He is the One who fashions our days in order to bring out more and more of His glory, more and more of His shine.

            The other day I had some unexpected time to get into the flower beds around my porch.  It had been let go for some time and needed some TLC.  I just threw myself at the job barehanded.  When I was finished, I looked down at my left hand that was the color of dirt and saw a brightly colored semi-circle.  It was my wedding band.  My $50, scratched up, Montgomery Ward wedding band was shining like new white gold.  Why?  I had not polished it.  It was not new.  The dirt around it made it stand out.  It looked bright against the back drop of the dirt and grime. 

            A Christ follower in the middle of a difficulty stands out like Technicolor in a world of black and white.  When a believer in the God-Man Jesus Christ meets a trial or an unexpected event and his faith remains, the gospel shines forth.  These trials of various kinds and unexpected events are there to make him steadfast, immovable.  These occurrences make him more like the One he is following.

 If you are not a Christ follower and you do not understand how one who trusts Jesus can walk through storms, difficulty, and unseen events with peace and even joy, then ask them.  Ask them where the strength and longsuffering to stay the course comes from.  Don’t be surprised if they tell you the answer has nothing to do with them, but that the answer lies in a Man.                                                                                                                    ~Your Fellow Sojourner                      

 {dedicated to my dear friend who allowed me to blog about her pig ~ I love you!!}

[8] In the whole land, declares the LORD,

two thirds shall be cut off and perish,

and one third shall be left alive.

[9] And I will put this third into the fire,

and refine them as one refines silver,

and test them as gold is tested.

They will call upon my name,

and I will answer them.

I will say, ‘They are my people’;

and they will say, ‘The LORD is my God.’”

(Zechariah 13:8-9 ESV)

Letting Boys Become Men

           I am not a very “qualified” person to be thinking too much on this subject, but it is one in which I am becoming more and more accustomed.  It reminds me of the motto Chris and I adopted when we found out we were expecting twin boys ~ have no expectations, and take it one day at a time.  We found wisdom in that perspective then, and I am finding wisdom in that motto now, as my oldest turns 13.

One of the worst things I have found in parenting my boys, is the insecurity that infects them when I am holding them back, as they are ready to move forward.  I often do not know when these moments will occur, but I am becoming more and more aware of the importance of these opportunities. In these times, my boys will have an infusion of courage to take on a risky venture, and then seek approval from me as they take on the task.  It is very reminiscent of knighthood.  Winston discovered this himself. 

            Not so long ago, the twins attempted bike riding.  With this new activity came the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat.  During this learning process, Winston came into the house and very emphatically told me, “I can do this!  I am God’s knight!  I can do anything.  I can cross a bridge.  I cannot be afraid of anything!”  After I had recovered from this string of strong declarations coming from my five year old, I told him that he just might find that he is afraid some time, and that it would be ok.  I told him that he would need to pray and ask Jesus to help him.  To which he replied, “Cousin Mia is the bestest knight, Mom.” Point lost.  I asked him later what he meant by that and he just looked at me like, “You don’t know, Mom?  Well, I can’t help you.”  But, I was certain that he was truly unafraid of just about anything at that moment because he could ride a bike.  He was a knight upon his trusty steed.

            Another “boys to men” milestone occurred this past month when my husband informed my eldest son that he was now ready to use the lawn tractor.  It was a Saturday morning, right after breakfast, and the entire family witnessed the passing of the cutting of the lawn from father to son.  Jackson did not say much, but smiled and quietly rode the tractor with dignity and pride.  Now, if you had seen the rest of the children’s reactions, you would have thought that we were being visited by royalty.  They watched mesmerized as Jackson went round and round the house in the tractor.  The twins were ecstatic and jumped up and down and hugged each other.  Then they said, “Next he is going to drive a car!”  Bella and Elias cheered him on as well.  I sat calmly in my bath robe, sipping coffee, watching my family react to their brother taking on the job of a man.  They rejoiced.  This is what was supposed to happen.  They knew that it was the right time for their brother to mow the lawn, and they felt the weight and joy of it themselves. 

            Earlier this summer, Jackson came up to me before he went to bed and told me that he was not too comfortable with the fact that he was growing taller than me.  I knew it was a tender moment, a small glimpse into his soul.  I asked him why he felt that way, and he was not quite sure.  And then I knew.  It was his way of saying, “I am realizing that manhood is coming for me soon, and I don’t know if I am ready for that.”  I put my arm around him and told him that just because he is getting taller does not mean that I am going to change.  I am still his mother and I am still “one tough cookie”.  To which he looked very relieved.  He knew I would not let him traverse these years alone.  He knew that I was going to enter these years with him just as courageously as Winston on his bike.  He knew that I loved him as a boy and will love him as a man. 

            It is a sweet time for this mother’s heart.  I have boys growing into manhood all around me.  The day will come when my sons will instruct and protect me, and at this I will marvel.  I will be in awe of what the Lord has done.

                                                                          ~ Your Fellow Sojourner

            [41] Now his parents went to Jerusalem every year at the Feast of the Passover. [42] And when he was twelve years old, they went up according to custom. [43] And when the feast was ended, as they were returning, the boy Jesus stayed behind in Jerusalem. His parents did not know it, [44] but supposing him to be in the group they went a day's journey, but then they began to search for him among their relatives and acquaintances, [45] and when they did not find him, they returned to Jerusalem, searching for him. [46] After three days they found him in the temple, sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions. [47] And all who heard him were amazed at his understanding and his answers. [48] And when his parents saw him, they were astonished. And his mother said to him, “Son, why have you treated us so? Behold, your father and I have been searching for you in great distress.” [49] And he said to them, “Why were you looking for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father's house?” [50] And they did not understand the saying that he spoke to them. [51] And he went down with them and came to Nazareth and was submissive to them. And his mother treasured up all these things in her heart. [52] And Jesus increased in wisdom and in stature and in favor with God and man.

(Luke 2:41-52 ESV)

Inheritance in a Shoebox

           I have a goal this summer: clean out the garage.  And nothing will stop me.  Not heat nor spiders nor dust.  Nothing.  But it is a discipline for me.  I like to reminisce.  So, when my daughter came out to the garage to see what progress I had made, she found me with a shoebox in my hand. 

            “What’s that, Mommy?”  “Oh, it’s nothing.  It’s just a box I kept from high school.”  “What’s in it?  Can I see?” 

            So I opened the lid of the box.  The box contained several notes and drawings, a newspaper article, a bead necklace, and an old corsage - that had taken my breath away once.   They are the little things that a fifteen year old girl had collected because she did not want to forget.  And now, the fifteen year old girl was showing her daughter the beginning of her own legacy.

            I met Chris at age fifteen and fell ~ hard.  I am happy to say that I have never recovered.  Even though the contents of the shoebox would never garner any kind of monetary wealth, I would never part with it.  It is the time capsule that tells the beginning of a love story. 

            So there I stood, pulling out bits of paper and trinkets, all from the year I had met my daughter’s future father.  I laughed and smiled and thought it strange that I should be telling Bella about the details of my friendship with her father, when I was only five years older than she is now.  She took it all in.  It was part of her own story too.

            One of the things I told my husband before we married was that it was far more romantic to be poor and in love than to be rich and in love.  He then informed me that I was about to get my wish.  But time has proved me wrong.  We are very much in love with one another, but we are obtaining more and more “wealth” by the day.  Our cups runneth over, but the contents cannot be weighed on scales.  The inheritance we are building is invisible. 

            The box and its contents were visible, but the relationship that it represented was unseen.  God was the One who sovereignly brought Chris and me together.  The box was a way to “see” the invisible hand of God.

            Recently, in our ladies Bible study, we were contemplating why God uses the visible to point to the invisible. A woman there had a good answer for this question.  She thought that it was because we are only human and finite and therefore God uses things we can see and relate to here on Earth in order to teach us something about Him.  When one views a mountain, one knows a little bit more about God’s splendor, majesty, and bigness.

            I have been contemplating the words “inheritance” and “possession”.  In my contemplations, I came across this verse from Ezekiel, “This shall be their inheritance: I am their inheritance: and you shall give them no possession in Israel; I am their possession.”(Ezekiel 44:28 ESV)

            Like the Levites, I can give my daughter no lasting possession here.  Her earthly inheritance adds up to nothing more than nostalgic photos and letters in a shoebox.  But, oh, what a trade!  Nothing lasting here.  Lacking no good and eternal thing There.  For, just as with the Levites, her inheritance shall be the Lord Jesus Himself.  When she opens up the shoeboxes of her past, she will hold letters and photographs that she can see, but my hope is that she will learn of the true realities that speak louder than the contents of any shoebox.    For here we have no lasting city, but we seek the city that is to come.(Hebrews 13:14)                      

                                                                        ~ Your Fellow Sojourner

On Jordan's Stormy Banks

1. On Jordan’s stormy banks I stand,
And cast a wishful eye
To Canaan’s fair and happy land,
Where my possessions lie.

2. All o’er those wide extended plains,
Shines one eternal day;
There God the Son forever reigns,
And scatters night away.

Chorus: I am bound (I am bound)
I am bound (I am bound)
I am bound for promised land,
I am bound (I am bound)
I am bound (I am bound)
I am bound for promised land.

3. No chilling winds nor poisonous breath
Can reach that healthful shore;
Sickness, sorrow, pain and death,
Are felt and feared no more.
(Repeat chorus)

4. When shall I reach that happy place,
And be forever blessed?
When shall I see my Father’s face,
And in His bosom rest?
(Repeat chorus)

Getting Married at Six

                Mothering happens in moments of time.  Often the intentional things that we do as mothers are just as important as the unexpected ones.  And yesterday I had a momentary discussion with my son as I was slicing tomatoes. 

                “Mom” “Yes son”  “S. whispered to me that she is going to marry me.  I can’t wait to marry her.” “I know you want to marry her, but the best thing for you to do right now is to pray for her.  Pray that she just loves Jesus and then she will love you too.”  “Yes, I am going to pray that she loves me.”  “No, you need to pray that she loves Jesus and you need to pray that you love Jesus too.  Then you will both love each other the way you should. You know, you can’t get married at 5; you have to become a man first.  That is a long time from now.  So, you have a lot of growing up to do.”    “I am not going to get married at 5, I am going to get married at 6.”  “So, you are going to get married when you are 6?”  “No, at 6.”  “Do you mean 6, as is 6 pm?”  “Yes, and Pop-pop will be there and Grammy will be there and you will be there.”  “Oh.”  “Well Mom, that is enough for now, we can talk about this some more in the morning.”  He runs off. 

                Yes, the cute factor was strong in this encounter, but the Spirit really caused me to sit up and pay attention while my son was sharing with me.  This is not the first conversation this child has had with me about marrying this little girl.  In fact, this has been going on for over a year now.  He truly does love this little girl.  He is very serious about marrying her.  As serious as a 5 year old can be.   Only God knows if this will come to be, but in the meantime, I do know what God would have him become before he takes a bride.

                Every child has a certain “bent”, a way in which he or she tends to grow.  I have come to see the “bents” of my children and ask the Lord how I can use their innate likes and dislikes, strengths and weaknesses, to point them in the direction of the King and His Kingdom.  And during this mothering moment, I had a greater insight into this child’s soul.

                His name means “a happy place” and “God dwelling with us”.   He has always been one to enjoy the company of others and is generaly a happy kid.  He likes to be at home and likes to work hard outside.   He has the most “shepherd-like” character of all of our children.  He loves to care for others and see them happy.  He is the “touchy-feely” kind of kid.  He was just made to love a wife and children.

                He has always wanted to marry and have children.  When he talks of the future he talks of leaving home, having his own home, and having many children.  He just knows what he wants – even at 5.  He has also told us that he wants to be a boxer and then a farmer.  J  Mmmm, don’t know if I can help with that one, but I will pray…

                So, my son, how do you need to grow in order to be a godly husband and father?  This is more important than any vocational training you will ever have.  Souls and eternity are at stake.  How can I help you and care for you as you grow toward this godly desire?  I have the future in mind for you as you speak to your siblings and as you employ self-control, as you learn to make your bed and as you learn to write you name.  You are a husband and father in training.  I am your mother-teacher.  I am praying that God would give me the wisdom of Solomon’s mother and may you see Jesus through me.  May I rise and call you blessed my son, as you grow into a man who knows the way of the righteous.  I love you. 

                                                                          ~Your Fellow Sojourner

              Blessed is the man

                                who walks not in the counsel of the wicked,

                nor stands in the way of sinners,

                                nor sits in the seat of scoffers;

                but his delight is in the law of the LORD,

                                and on his law he meditates day and night.

                He is like a tree

                                planted by streams of water

                that yields its fruit in its season,

                                and its leaf does not wither.

                In all that he does, he prospers.

                The wicked are not so,

                                but are like chaff that the wind drives away.

                Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment,

                                nor sinners in the congregation of the righteous;

                for the LORD knows the way of the righteous,

                                but the way of the wicked will perish.

                                         (Psalm 1 ESV)

When The Circus Leaves Town

                Chris and I have been working with our children on personal responsibility and accountability.  They have been responding well, especially when candy and money is involved.  We want them to see that with faithful hard work, there are rewards.  But what kind of rewards?  Is the candy and money giving them the right message? 

                God gave Adam and Eve work in the Garden of Eden, where everything was called good.  Work, like all other creation, has been twisted by the Enemy of our souls.   We often see it as bad or even worse, some kind of drudgery that God gave us to do.  When all of this work is done, then I can have time for what I want – rest – play – things that I really would rather spend time doing.

                We have a friend who is always working- he sees a job and does it.  Many of us think he takes his work a little too seriously.  He takes great pride in seeing a job well done, and it blesses his family and friends.  Someone asked him if there was ever a job that he does not want to do.  He said that yes, there were many tasks he does not want to do, but he just tells himself to do them anyway.  And as he works, he focuses on doing a good job and he does not dwell on how smelly or dirty or difficult the task may be.  This is the common grace of God in this man.  Why do you say?  Because man was made in the image of God and God gave man work as a blessing, not a curse.  Therefore, God graces man to work and to derive pleasure in his work. 

                So, what has Satan done?  St. Benedict of medieval fame recognized this problem.  He could have chosen a life of ease, but he saw no pleasure in it.  He told his fellow man that the lowliest of tasks done to the glory of God blesses both man and God.  The monk’s fellow brothers depended on him for their food and the surrounding people depended on him for hard to find medicine and the life giving Word of God.   Benedict spoke harshly to his fellow learned monks and priests who chose to elevate themselves above work because of their “priestly” calling. 

                Now, the life that devotes itself to hard work and sacrifice to God is a full life, a busy life, and an ever-expanding life.  The life that embraces both work and devotion is hard to find.  This life does not have the goal of entertainment and rest in mind. True rest comes through Christ alone.  Work must be done while it is still day, for when the night comes, the plow must stop, the sheep go into their pen, and the plowman sleeps.  Work comes to a stop.  Oh the hours upon hours spent thinking and striving toward ease.  I often ask myself, what would my Grandmother, who lived a short life, think?  Would she push through, would she put that thought aside, would she let go of the temporal to hold on to the eternal? 

                We are not given the length of our days.  Some of us will have many, others of us few.  But all of us have a God-given work to do.  Remember what we were told to pray?  Lord, send out laborers.  But, that was about the spreading of gospel seed, not changing diapers – right?  All that I do, all that I do, to the glory of God. 

The pastor preaches to his children when he takes the trash out and the missionary evangelizes when she hangs out the laundry.  How?  It is all in one - all to the praise of His glorious grace!  We are to speak as we walk by the way, as we sit, and as we lay down.  We are to always be pointing to Jesus.  Jesus, Jesus, Jesus – a constant refrain.

                And so, we are discovering the gospel in the reformation of work in our home.  We see how to work with those that are hard to work with, we clean up after those who do nothing but make messes, and we stay with a task until the work is done.  It is transformation of body, mind, and soul.  We have spent more time together, resulting in more opportunities to address sin, to ask forgiveness, and to point to Jesus. 

                Chris and I took the children to the movies yesterday to celebrate a job well done at home.  We all arrived with smiles and great anticipation.  We were met with long lines and confusion - and so the grumbling began.  When the movie was over and the popcorn was eaten, the cries of more, more came.  The temporal reward was not rooted in the eternal.  It did not satisfy.  Only when sleep came did we begin to recover peace in our home. 

                Chris and I talked over why such ungratefulness.  After contemplating this question, I believe that we have not been enjoying the work for work’s sake.  Do we rejoice in whatever task we have before us or do we see the work as a hurdle to get over to get to what we believe will really give us joy. 

Now, I do believe that God has given us all things to enjoy in Him.  Jesus liked a good party and a good conversation and he rested too.  But He also did not look to the things this world has exalted to satisfy His soul.  If we can praise God for the movie, for the popcorn, for time to enjoy a rest from our labor ~ if we can enjoy the circus and wave good-bye as the circus train leaves town and then return to joyfully serving the Maker of Heaven and Earth, than good!  If we moan and cry and long to stay in our seats eating popcorn and peanuts - if our eyes long to keep the dancing elephants and trapeze artists in view - then we need to speak the truth of God to our hearts.  The Giver of the gift is what we praise, not the gift. 

                And so, today, I am listening to our hearts. What are we really saying in our home today?  Who is receiving the praise, and what is being glorified?  Am I rejoicing in the opportunity to wash and sweep and tidy because it is what God has given me to do?  God gives me good to do, not bad - and we know that He is always shaping, always working.  I am thankful He has not yet completed His work in me.  Oh, so thankful.                       ~ Your Fellow Sojourner

The Girl Who Waited For An Orange

     Chris and I love meeting new people.  Every person has a story to tell and a perspective of life that is all their own.  As a friend of Chris’s likes to say, “never give up an opportunity to meet a person for the first time.”  This was a meeting that comes back to my mind from time to time.

     I cannot even remember her name, but I will always remember her story.  She showed up one summer evening at our Coffee House home group.  She was an au pair for the summer and was thrilled to hear of a college age group that met not too far from her summer residence.  She was German and had big curly brown hair and was always joyful.  She attended our group faithfully over the summer and that is how we heard her story. 

     When the Berlin Wall came down in 1989, she and her brothers and sisters had known nothing but life behind the iron curtain in Eastern Germany.  Luxuries were rare and freedom of religion even rarer.  Her father pastored an underground church in Eastern Germany and they had very little.  On the night that the great Wall of separation dividing East from West came down, her father took her and her siblings to cross over to the Western side.  She would have been about 15 or 16 on this historic night.  One of the places he took them to was a mall.   As she walked the mall she was overcome with the overabundance of everything.   Then her father found something she had never seen or touched or smelled before – an orange.  And so, on that night in Germany, she tasted her first orange.  She talked of the freedom that people had to just walk across the East-West border all night.  It was a night of celebration. 

     Years later, she came to America having heard of our freedom and she pictured what the church in America must be like.  But there were two things she could not understand.  Why, she asked, do the people of every color and language and class not come together on a Sunday to worship together?  Why are the churches so segregated?  Secondly, she wondered why we were not filled with more joy.  Why, in a country with so much freedom, are we not more joyful in our worship? 

     It was a sad thing for me to wonder about these questions along with her.  I could not give her the answers and I prayed she had not been disillusioned by her visit.  We shared a summer of worship, prayer, and laughter.

     This girl had waited and endured and escaped many things.  For fifteen years she waited.  She waited for the gift of one orange.  The waiting made it sweeter, and unforgettable.

     What do I endure every day?  What do I wait for and wait for and wait for?  As I fight to hold on to the truth, how many times do I contemplate risking my life, attempting to scale the wall that separates me from what I long for? 

He has said, “I will never leave you nor forsake you.” So we can confidently say,

“The Lord is my helper;

I will not fear;

what can man do to me?”

(Hebrews 13:5-6 ESV)

     My Savior never left my friend when she lived in a world of nothing but varying shades of grey.  He knew the longings of her heart.  He broke down the dividing wall and walked with her to the other side.

     I am longing for the day when I will cross over and My Heavenly Father will take me to see and touch and taste things I have never heard spoken of before.  And it will be so sweet.  The shades of grey will be no more and joy will be my constant companion.  I know that I will see the girl who waited for an orange amidst the worshipping throng of Heaven, and our faith will be our eyes.                                                                                     

                                                                                               ~ Your Fellow Sojourner


                                   

The Disciples At My Knees

           I am a woman that has chosen to make the home her hub.  The primary result of this choice is that I do not have holidays.  Mommas, can I get an amen?  I have looked for the elusive day off for years.  I have finally surrendered to reality – it will never be.

            Now, when a woman finally comes to this point in her life, she has two choices.  One ~ the cut and run response.  I will make this happen somehow – how can I make these children go away, even for just a little while?  But we all know that the desired effect never comes.  The guilt and resentment sets in, only making it worse.  Two~ accept the good and the hard things that come from mothering children and meet the challenge.  Self-preservation has become the nemesis of this generation’s mothers.  Letting go of me allows the mother to hold onto the hearts of her children. 

            Years ago,   I realized that if I was going to give my life to my family, and try to hold on to my own, there would be a forever war within my soul.  Do I raise the typical American child and then try to reclaim what is left of my life? Or, do I give up my expectations for having things my way and give myself to my family - hook, line, and sinker?  It wasn’t until death and loss became very real to me that I chose the latter.  Death is unnatural.  We know this because whenever someone we love dies, we do not want to let go.  We were not meant to die.  It was sin that brought death to us. 

            Life is the most precious of gifts.  We cannot manufacture it on our own.  The body and soul of a person is miraculous.  Every being has worth because of the miracle that they are.  The worth of a child is bound up in the image that they bear.  They are image-bearers of God, made in His image alone.  Not in mine.  Not in theirs.  Everything they have comes down from the Father of Lights. 

            Being a mother was always a given for me.  I never doubted that I would marry and raise children.  I just had no idea what I was dreaming of.  God did.  He puts those dreams there.  The problem arose when I added and took away from His dreams for me, making them a pale shadow of what His true intent was.  I wanted to take the Author’s pen out of His hand and write my own story.  Like Eve.

            Eve.  The life-giver and our first mother.  There was a precedent set with her.  She was tempted to believe that God was withholding something from her.  Something that would make her life more fulfilling and more meaningful- a knowledge of which she knew not.  When she possessed this knowledge, she believed she would come into more of who she truly was.  We know how the story ends…

            I like to say that something has to give.  This is true.  You will have to let go of something, often many things, over and over again in this life.  The question is, are we giving up what we ought to give?

            Discipling as Jesus discipled is an example of a life given for the lives of others.  Being born, being cared for when you are too young to care for yourself, being watched over as you learn to walk and tie your shoes and read is very time intensive.  There is no time clock mothers punch when they have put their 8 hours in.  Instead, there is a Father in Heaven who pours out life giving water into our souls as we pour out our lives.  There is no substitute for the one who has been called to disciple, only the discipler can fulfill what the Creator intends.  He has created both the young one and the old one – and both need one another.

            I have only learned what I need to do to teach and train my children as their needs become known and their sin shows.  In Scripture it tells us of a call that is sure and irrevocable.  Mothers and fathers, our call is sure and irrevocable.  Our children are ours to tend. 

             What happens when you leave your garden to another or you leave your garden alone all together?  Well, come look at my garden beds around our house.  It is not pretty.  Why?  Because they are not a priority for me.  It shows.  Weeds and sickly looking plants abound.  The garden could be so much more.  But, I know it would take daily maintenance.  Without it, it goes its own way and more aggressive plants that do not belong choke out the young plants that need care and room to grow.  This mirrors my daily temptation.  I do not want to tend and water and care for my children because it costs me something – something my flesh holds dear.  I want my time, my peace, and my space.  They intrude on all of those areas.  I need to die daily.  To let Christ’s death have its work in and through me every day.  And so, I have a need to be tended, watered, and cared for.  There is no better place to go for nurture and care than the Word of God, Truth.

Psalm 119:40

Behold, I long for your precepts;

in your righteousness give me life!

Proverbs 8:35

For whoever finds me finds life

and obtains favor from the Lord,

Proverbs 22:4

The reward for humility and fear of the Lord

is riches and honor and life.1

Matthew 6:25

“Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?

Matthew 7:14

For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few.

Matthew 10:39

Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.

John 10:11

I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.

John 10:15

just as the Father knows me and I know the Father; and I lay down my life for the sheep.

Galatians 6:8

For the one who sows to his own flesh will from the flesh reap corruption, but the one who sows to the Spirit will from the Spirit reap eternal life.

Philippians 2:16

holding fast to the word of life, so that in the day of Christ I may be proud that I did not run in vain or labor in vain.

Colossians 3:3

For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God.

Hebrews 13:5

Keep your life free from love of money, and be content with what you have, for he has said, “I will never leave you nor forsake you.”

James 4:14

yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes.

Revelation 2:10

Do not fear what you are about to suffer. Behold, the devil is about to throw some of you into prison, that you may be tested, and for ten days you will have tribulation. Be faithful unto death, and I will give you the crown of life.

Revelation 7:9-10

After this I looked, and behold, a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed in white robes, with palm branches in their hands,and crying out with a loud voice, “Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!”

And so, as I have done so many times in my life, I let go.  I let go of what I know was not from God and ask Him to teach me.  Teach me to love what You love Lord.  You love children – I know this, for I am Your child.  As I am in need, so are my own children.  And just as You spoke to Peter, I too must feed these lambs if I say that I love You.  And that I cannot do without being fed myself.  I forget.  I forget what You have said to me and I turn to the words that seem to hold real life out to me.  I listen to the hiss.  I fall.  I see that You are right and when I stray, Your grace and mercy bring me back to the right way of thinking. Come Lord Jesus.

Mothers, I want to risk something and speak to you.  There is nothing worth doing that does not cost you something. The list of what we give up and die to is endless.  But, I am reminded of the One who called me to this.  There is a sweet promise at the end of this life of giving.  He came to give Himself and die, so must we.  And so, I have a choice every day to accept this calling or to go my own way.  And even though I have the same blood of my mother Eve, I have a mind that is being renewed by the words of Life.  And like the disciples, I can either welcome these disciples at my knees, or send them away. 

                                                                               ~Your Fellow Sojourner