Shilah Writes

  It takes a good amount of honesty to God and placing your full trust in Him when one is anchored at night in a bay on a boat... Psalm 90 Rev 4:11 Will your anchor hold? Who is my Anchor? "Jesus, You are. You are God Almighty, Creator of the beauty surrounding me. You calm the waters. You led us here to the waters. I can trust Your goodness for this long night. I come , before the Throne of Grace. I will wait here for rest, because You give rest to those who wait on you. I am unworthy but feel You, through the peace that enters my heart as I envision myself laying prostrate at Your feet". I remember : Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say : "He is my Refuge. He is my Fortress. I trust You, Father". I remember : He will save me from snares and deadly pestilence. He will cover me with His feathers. Under His wings I find refuge. I will say: "He is my shield. He is my rampart. I will not fear". I r...

I wasn't prepared for the grief that gripped my actual heart as we pulled back into Newport, Washington, last evening. The familiar sights of spring and new buildings going up five days older than when we left them...wild roses in full bloom and lupines getting going, the church gym had some work done on it too, I caught a glimpse of it as we rounded the corner from Tweedie to Spring Valley. In all sightings, I felt my heart ache. Silly? Maybe...but I think everyone knows this emotion. We took our youngest and her family to MO to start a life their with her husband's family. Johnny, I have grown to love as my own son but last night as we drove back into the community where they no longer are, I wanted to be mad at him for coming along and changing everything and for upsetting our world like this. The thing about letting go is that it is a grief that one should see as a good thing. It hurts, yes, but that you get to hurt from loving is a blessing and a gift. Little Kiana...the 7...

My first memory of Mom is sitting on her lap with my sister Amy in one arm, me the other, and a big Ole picture book in between us. My mom mysteriously knew the words to make the pictures come alive, complete with sound effects and expressions of sadness and joy. She smelled of Palmolive dish soap and hard work. On Sundays, a dab of 'Here's My Heart' perfume by Avon and Aqua Net hairspray.  In summer, when I think of Mom, I think of Lily of the Valley and Lilacs, rows and rows of peas and beans to shell and snip, and taking off farm work right after lunch, for a swim in the river, fully clothed, why? I do not know. I suppose it was the most natural and practical thing to do, to end the noontime break with a slow meander to the river and a dip into its mirky, dark water. She always prioritized that we read important books and listen to good music, taking us to the closet library, bringing home stacks of books and records of "On the Banks of Plum Creek" or One Day a...

Where did we get the idea that asking God again and again for healing and a miracle of that impossible thing, means we aren't surrendered? It's not weakness or a lack of belief or a question of your trust in God either.  No. Asking over and over is strength and faith. It is abiding and shifting the pain of the lack and the struggle over to God Almighty, which is the only proper thing to do. I think true surrender is all of the struggle. Giving up on your own wits and wisdom, allows you to become utterly reliant on God's promises. This utter reliance on God for every little or big thing means you recognize your need for a Savior. It means... nothing in my hands I bring, simply to the cross I cling. If it breaks you, its not to shame you and cripple you, but to See Him...the One who holds the broken, the beaten, and the hurting... Do both. Surrender and Ask. Keep after it. Don't stop. While that goes on and on and on, make sure you add in praise and worship to God your Ma...

I understand.  This thing Bruce and I are doing is incomprehensible to most. A few think we are not completely nuts...a very few. I still do not think we are odd when it comes down to it. Or special. I don't think what we are called to do is more important than anyone else's walk of obedience.  I also, don't want attention or pity. Here's what I know.  God calls us out sometimes into unknown places... and my husband needs rest. People will be critical and worried, but it's because they care. I also know we must obey God rather than man. We must lose this fear of "what will people think?" We must serve our Great Big God Almighty. Wherever He calls us. I wonder often, why we put so much importance in our comfortable spaces, conventional ways, and culturally,  acceptable boxes? God never says in His Word, "as long as everyone understands and is ok with your actions, then you should do it". Nope. He gives us others' encouragements, opinions, and ...

We never have to worry or fear. God's Word says so. It's been confirmed that its true. But we do it anyway, as a human default. Especially, when we're tired or when life is challenging and chaotic. Which is a lot of the time. We don't have to feel guilt and condemnation. God's Word says this too. But we do feel these things because we want everything to be good for the ones we love and because we don't want to let anyone down. People Pleasers are equal parts caring and a little bit fake, because when this is your strength, tendencies to feel bitterness or invisible grows stronger at each fail. So we spin our wheels or run around like senseless chickens trying to dig our way out of bad situations or to fix things beyond our control.  The only true thing we can do for the glory of God in our every day lives is to stop the habits of being busy, occupied, and stressed. And determine to spend Every Single Morning with the Word of God. (Coffee helps). And All Day Abid...

  This morning in church I wrote down a bunch of words the resurrection stirs in my heart: Fresh/Clean New/Renew Spring/Refresh Young/Tender  Baby/Fragile Light/Life Hope/Love We sang songs of rejoicing and praise and heard a message about victory and a reading of thoughts from Nicodemus's perspective. Yesterday the little kids and their mom's had a resurrection garden party and they made these little gardens out of terra cotta pots and rocks and mosses. I love how the celebration of Easter gets us all involved in real and tangible ways. As real as sticks and stones that kids can touch and imagine the cross and the tomb where Jesus lay. Feathery mosses and new young plants depicting new life...to touch something real that helps one to understand the meaning of...priceless. And again, this year, the Jeremy Camp song..."the same power that rose Jesus from the dead lives in us" A thought I can not seem to fully grasp. I want to. Lord, help my unbelief when it all looks s...