What I am affectionately calling my "Reagan Revelation"

This is my dog. Her name is Reagan and I absolutely adore her. Even when she's all melancholy because she hates pictures.

We’ve tossed around in our heads getting rid of her when we move to Redding, but only to family.  We were willing to give her up but just when we’d lifted her to the altar, God told us to take her back down. Shoo, that was close. I wanted to start there because she was part of a revelation I had the other night. Her little furry face stirs all sorts of things in my heart, but this one particular thing was from the Lord and it’s given me a new perspective.

So let me back up and tell two different stories here. First of all, the verse “delight yourself in Him and He will give you the desires of your heart,” has been floating around in my head, particularly “delight yourself in Him” part. I love it. I read a blog recently that highlighted this verse, saying that as we grow closer to God, our desires become His. I’ve heard this in sermons a million times and I agree, by the way.

The other instance happened two days ago. A friend gave me “Finger of God,” a documentary about miracles by Darren Wilson. It was so good. I’ve become a particular fan of his work and this was probably my favorite, neck to neck tied with the other two in his trilogy J . I want to expose my kids to supernatural things, it’s important to me. One day, on the streets, for now, we start on this journey the way Darren did, just stepping out in curiosity and waiting to see how the Lord shows up. So me and Jake and Sonora Grace all parked our booties on the couch and hit play. If you’ve seen the documentary, you know how it starts. Darren talks about growing up in a religious “grid,” and really not expecting much of God. But as he hears about signs and wonders happening all over America, and miracles and healings taking place…he wants to explore these things, and see what God is up to outside “doing church.” His theology gets stumped when his aunt and uncle are miraculously given gold teeth. This probably comes as a shock to some people, but it’s true. I’ve seen it happen to people I know. God gives them gold teeth. Why? I don’t know. Darren comes to the same conclusion that I have, you just can’t put God in a box. But ultimately it is determined by pastors and revivalists that are exposed to it on a regular basis that it’s really an expression of God’s love. So in a funny way, Jake perks up and says, “I want gold teeth too,” and then Sonora Grace starts jumping all around me saying “gold teeth, gold teeth!!” (I think it’s sort of funny that my kids are radical little Jesus chasers!). Honestly, a couple of months ago some people in our community were receiving gold teeth and just the next day I had a tooth ache. I prayed for gold teeth and didn’t receive. BUT, God did take all the pain away in a wisdom tooth that was breaking through. So I was just grateful. I never forgot though…why all of these other people, and not me? Not jealousy, just curious. So when the kids started talking about it, I just prayed with them to receive, and I prayed for myself too. But we didn’t get any. All day and all night passed and we checked our teeth before bedtime and still no gold teeth. I told Sonora she should forget about it because she has perfect baby teeth, but Jake actually has two silver teeth from having dental work and those were the teeth we were going after. No gold teeth though.

Let me say here that my relationship with God is not changed by the fact that this did not happen for us. I’m not seeking a sign or wonder and having that chase determine my relationship with the Father. I simply thought, “if God is handing out gold teeth as an expression of His love, well I want to experience more of Him!”

That night I was on the couch just sort of lounging, praying, relaxing, and a furry little someone named Reagan jumped into my lap. She wears the "wet dog food" look well, doesn't she?

Several months ago I began to pray for a small dog. I love dogs. I love all animals, really, in fact I used to pride myself on the fact that I got along a lot better with animals than people! Now I wish I was better with people, and not so comfortable with slimed hands and a shirt covered in horse hair. Yes, one of my love languages is dog slobber! But we couldn’t even afford $200 to adopt a dog in the county. We looked on Craiglist and Paul was like “Summer, if God wants us to have a dog, he’ll land one in our laps.” I hate his logic-less rationales sometimes. We had Rush, but I just wanted someone [canine-ish] to take to bed at night. I wanted someone to lay on my lap on the couch. I wanted someone to keep Rush company. I mentioned my desire at Bible study one night during prayer time and one of my friends piped up that she was giving away her registered Shih-Tzu. And so we picked her up three days later with her papers, and all of her supplies.

This particular night Reagan jumped on me while I was just sitting with the Lord, and I heard him say, “You don’t want gold teeth, you wanted a small dog.” And I realized how true it was. I saw right away that God had already given me my real desire. I always call her, “my kiss on the cheek from the Father.” To me, aquiring her was a miracle (not as inexplicable as gold teeth, but nevertheless!).   After having my “Reagan revelation” I’ve been having moments like this for days, like how I had prayed for a baby for months, and here she is now, growing in my womb.Where everything around me is actually what I want, and the sort of things I am praying for (more money, a better house, a better job, bigger vehicle…) are so secondary to the things that I already have: a Godly husband who loves me unconditionally, a son who calls me his best friend, a daughter who wants to be just like me, and everything, everything, everything that I need! If I am seriously taking in all that I have, there is very little that I want.

My revelation was this: instead of thinking that as I grow closer to God my desires will become His, its that God knows me inside and out and He knows what my real desires are. He knows what is truly and completely embedded in my heart, and those are the things He is working together for my good. And the point is, that as my eyes are on Him, delighting in His presence, I can hardly see past into the realm of MORE.

There are desires in my hearts, dreams not yet fulfilled. He works alongside me for those things. And this is where it becomes true that as I grow closer to him, my wants take shape to match His will. But what took my breath away, what has been on my mind since Reagan’s furry little face nuzzled mine is remembering this: He knows me. And as I look around at what He’s already given me that I am so happy with, it gives me a small glimpse into my heart, into who I really am and where my values are and reminds me how much He loves to bless me with things that touch me personally. I am so grateful.

Why We Chose Bethel

I grew up in what is affectionately known as the “Bible Belt” in the South, and I’ve come to learn that simply means that everyone you run into probably attends church and calls themselves a Christian. Even though I wasn’t born into an immediate family that attended church, my grandparents loved to take me on Sundays. I do not remember much about my church experience other than a lot of really good hugs, and smiling faces. It was not in any way a bad experience. But I would call it an incomplete one. Some of the things I remember are having my grandpa let me stand up on the pew while we sang worship songs. I colored, and brushed my doll’s hair, and my grandma let me check off the box that recorded our attendance. I also would dig through (the southern word is “plunder”) my grandma’s purse because it was always full of werther’s originals hard candies (track her down, she always has them!). One of my fondest memories is of a man named Bob Mcmanus who brought all the kids packs of Wrigley’s gum, but somehow in my heart I knew that I was his favorite. I loved that place. I felt love in that place. Still, as I got older there were questions to be answered. Because at church, in between my “Mama and Poppy,” everything was perfect, but I certainly wondered what happened to my drug addict Dad who had run out. Mama had bought me a beautiful engraved Bible for a birthday once I started reading, it was King James Version. I don’t remember understanding it or attempting to read it other than during sermons. One time I stumbled across a list in the references section, questions someone might have and where to find the answers in the Bible. One question that resonated with me right away was, “What can you do if someone does drugs?,” and I immediately found the scripture reference. It was Philippians 4:13, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” So that’s how my Dad will get better…. But I grew up, we moved farther from my grandparents, and although many of my roots were in the church, it was becoming obvious that I was just a visitor. Many of the teens had gone to camps together, mission outreaches, and also attended the same school. Not me. There came a time that as an insecure teenager I really didn’t want to spend time with strangers. Not only that but word came that the main sanctuary was being torn down. And that shattered me. Why? Because I loved that church, and I loved the memories that I had cultivated there over the years. And I definitely felt safer inside a church building than in a relationship with Jesus.

I don’t know if I was “saved” by the time I got to high school. I definitely loved God, but I had no frame for what that looked like on an ongoing basis. A friend invited me to a small church near my school, and the transformation it brought to my life was instantaneous. If you want to know what I think about my salvation experience, the best way to describe it is that all of the sudden I had an understanding of what God asked of me as a believer, and I wanted to do it perfectly. I wanted to please Him. And I wanted others to please Him. When I became sexually active I was acutely aware of how much God hated this. One Sunday I walked into the lobby and I couldn’t even move my feet into the sanctuary. I sat in my car and cried until I convinced myself my makeup was way too atrocious to attend. And I never went back. This started a lifestyle of guilt. Every time I sinned, I found myself crawling into a corner and begging God to please not stop loving me. I used to give a little testimony in college of how when I got ready to sin, I would hear God growl at me. I don’t know why I said it other than it felt true, like as I would do something stupid, God would want to let me know how displeased He was.

I’m going to skip ahead a good bit here to avoid droning on forever. The point is, I have been comfortable with God “hating” me. It has felt good to be punished for my sin. Sort of the paradoxical pleasure that comes from hating yourself so much that a knife in the flesh feels good. But it isn’t healthy, and it isn’t right.

I had a really life changing word come from Mary Beth Sponsler probably six months ago. I think it’s God’s word to every one of us believers, but to me, it shattered a lot of my paradigms. She told me, “God says if you never change, He is pleased with you. Right now, He is pleased with you and He loves you” To a sold out God pleaser like me, it changed a lot in my heart. And so began a journey of inching my way into what is sort of known around here as “Bethel Culture.” My current home church, Chapel, has also been incredibly instrumental in my transformation to who I am now. Vastly different than who I was three years ago. We are not running from Chapel. Not even a little bit. First of all, they introduced me to freedom from fear and frigidity. Chapel is a church with a heart to see people set free and I love them for that. They are also very interested in seeing young adults walk in their spiritual gifts. Out of this came a revelation of who God made me to be that no spiritual quiz was giving away. I began to love prayer, not really sure where to turn, Kurt and Anna landed “The Happy Intercessor” in my hands, a book by Beni Johnson, Bill Johnson’s wife. This turned my world upside down. I went from saying “night night prayers,” to driving down the road, weeping, declaring mercy and love over my community. I was so grateful to God for this gift because if you ask me, intercessory prayer is as good as it gets. It’s centered around the presence of God, rooted in capturing the plans of Heaven and agreeing, changing the course of history simply because God’s put that authority in me. So incredible. All of the sudden, it’s true, I was not content with stressing over what to wear to church. I wanted to be at church because I wanted to feel God’s presence again. I told Paul, “Being a Christian is so, so much fun!” God began to give me words like, “I have made you bold and stouthearted,” and I knew He had called me to warrior-dom. One time I prayed so hard, I was laughing and crying. I forced myself to stop because I had to go somewhere, and when I was “coming down” from all the craziness I asked God, “Why me?” and He said instantly and almost audibly, “Because your prayers are moving mountains.” I have held onto that word closer than a treasured security blanket, and though I wrote it down in my prayer journal I have to remind myself of how real it was to me. So that’s my end of it.

For Paul, he was getting wrapped up defeating some of the false teachings bouncing around. Not just false teachings, but things that weren’t making sense to our theological worldview. Yes, we’ve been there. Bill Johnson has made us scratch our chin and spend hours in the word trying to figure out how he could say some of these blasphemies! So we looked down our noses at Bethel, but started seeing people we trusted quote their leadership too. So what else was there but to go past what we were hearing and explore it for ourselves. And it was good. So good. We found ourselves filling out some survey at a marriage conference and it asked us for our mentors. Paul wrote “Kris Valloton” in the blank. I told him, “Paul, you don’t know even know Kris!,” and he informed me that Kris was beginning to be a forefront speaker to his heart about the Bible, theology, and the love of Christ. And it was funny because I sort of considered Beni Johnson to have done some really big things for me through her book. I can say, since I have read about 6 books out of Bethel at this point, that I’ve never seen anything contradicting the Bible. Now, I am not as versed in scripture as Paul. Nor am I as critical of others who are or aren’t, like Paul. It’s probably way more of a testament to say that Paul has not found anything incongruent. Heck, he wants to go to school there!

Now let me say, I do think Bethel is sort of weird. Was it in my comfort zone to see people shaking, and twitching, and jumping around like maniacs? Not really. Do I care though? Nope. Because the only thing that matters to me at this point is loving God, enjoying His presence, and cultivating a lifestyle of worship. And I believe the Bible to be Holy, and set apart, and I believe God speaks through His word to us. There is an irreplaceable place for the word’s of the Bible in the heart of a believer. But I don’t think any real Christian in the world would debate that. The thing that has set apart Bethel, to me at least, is their emphasis on both the availability of God’s presence to the believer, and the price that Jesus paid on the cross for not only this magnificent, loving presence to be manifested, but in it’s midst for their to truly be life abundantly- free from the burden of sin, and from poverty, and ill health. It was hard for me to jump on board with this because I believed trials were from God. Guess what? I still believe that because I think God will use anything to draw us closer to His heart, and His strength, and the shelter of His wings. But I don’t think He gives people sickness, or forces them into poverty and suffering. If I could pick my favorite elements of the gospel, they would be the freedom that is available, as well as the friendship and communion with Jesus, God, and the Holy Spirit.

I am so getting off tangent here. You want to know what Bethel is all about? Revival. To me that is exactly what I stated above, available freedom through the manifest presence of God, in a really, really big way. And the best way to get God to show up in a big way like this, or even in my home as I am doing dishes or cooking dinner is to worship His majesty and simply love being with my Father. When that happens, brace yourself, anything can happen. And that is what I get from Bethel, this incredible awareness that God loves us and wants to be with us. And out of that place, He wants to use us. And bless us. One of my favorite “Bethel sayings” is “God is in a good mood.” I teach it to my kids, “guess what, you delight yourself in Him, He’s ready to embrace you.” I know I grieve the Holy Spirit sometimes and I still struggle with my flesh, but I repent and ask Him to come hang out with me some more. He’s not frowning at me. He’s happy to be with me. God has never growled at me a day in my life.

The fruits of rolling around good in this Bethel “stuff” have totally messed me up. When I was visiting Bethel, the speaker said that He had a vision of a chocolate cake and he said, “God said he was the cake and he wanted me to eat it.” Weird, right? I thought it was weird. But the more I thought about how much I loved chocolate cake, and how much I loved God, and how much God likes to bless me, I thought, shame on you Summer for being so simple. Because God, in my experience, is not simple. He’s a big guy, and He’s not boring! I know that...

I received a word several months ago when I had someone leading prayer, they told me that God wanted to bless me with something, and to go to Him and ask what it was. So I did. Do you want to know what He gave me? A fishing pole. I responded, “I really wanted you to bless me with a baby.” But it wasn’t, it was a fishing pole (though I was pregnant only two months later!). Sometimes you have to ask God what these crazy things mean. He said, “I want you to come fishing with me. That’s what a daddy does with his daughter.” God ministers to our hearts in all sorts of ways. I’m not one of those really annoying people that likes to quote Bill Johnson, but he said recently, “You can’t invite God to show up and expect Him to stay in your box.” This doesn’t mean that God won’t meet us where we are at…it just means, I am learning to let God be who He is, not who I think He is. It’s true, I don’t hear God growl at me anymore. I come to him like a little girl and I say, “please don’t make me seize on the floor in front of everybody,” and He laughs and says “Ok.” Sometimes I say, “Do whatever it takes so I can taste your freedom!” and He says, “Except lay seizing on the floor?,” and I agree, and He laughs and says, “Ok.” He is a good God. He is pleased with me. I desperately want my life to go where He goes, but He’s perfectly willing to stay with me when I’m not ready. And I have found in this “Bethel Culture” especially when my religious tendencies get me messed up (and the chocolate cake vision really messed me up!), He really isn’t phased that much. He gives me my space (unlike Bethel, sometimes!), and waits for me to absorb what I need to in order to get it.

So if you have researched Bethel, you will find some really controversial things. Some people just don’t like Bethel. I personally don’t like some of the people who have come out of Bethel or who claim it as their home church. But what Paul and I ultimately did was go to the source. And once we tasted the goodness of God, which is what the church will continuously introduce you to, there was no turning back. So go to www.ibethel.tv and register for their free service. You get a sermon a week. Buy a book online. Just try it, chew it up, and decide for yourself. Yes, they have gold and feathers randomly fall from the ceiling, and gold dust appear in clouds of smoke, but the leadership at Bethel just says, “I don’t know why it happens, I don’t look for it…I just want to worship God.” Honestly, that’s good enough for me. The best thing that ever happened to my Christian walk is to truly absorb the fact that God loves me. ME! ME! How did anyone ever get saved without understanding that?

And right now God is telling me to take a deep breath and trust Him because He’s paved the way for us to get to Redding, and I believe Him.

Healing on the Back Deck

Quote, Summer Little’s Senior Project, 2005:

“My greatest aspiration in this life is to be a housewife.”

“My major goal in life is to have a family.”

Excuse me while I take a minute to laugh hysterically at Summer Little, the most naïve, day dreaming schemer I’ve ever known. Yes, at 18 years of age I had my life panned out. I wanted to be a Mom. Sure, I dyed my hair blonde and red and obsessively sported American Eagle apparel around the clock, but deep down I imagined the day it would be ok for me to have an A-line and a pair of khaki chinos on. Classy chic. Ha! If you follow this blog regularly, you’ll gather that unlike Summer Little, Summer Krismanits spends most of her days praying for grace, taking weekly trips through the sliding glass door to the wooden bench on the deck just to close her eyes and ask God why this doesn’t come more naturally. Why isn’t this easy?

Rewarding? Yes.

Unpredictable? Definitely.

Job of the lifetime? You couldn’t pay me to work 40 hours a week. (that’s because I do it for free!)

There are days where I literally cannot get over how incompetent I am to do this job. And it isn’t the kid raising part. It isn’t the spending an entire day at home and not having time to do anything for myself. The main source of my irritation with myself is that my house doesn’t look like Country Magazine. No matter how much I Pinterest, the pillows I sew all come out flat. The curtains I hang have crooked hems. The painting I hung in our bathroom looks like a 5^th grader made it. My kitchen chairs, which I stained and covered cushions on, all currently have some type of clothing draped over them. And since I never got around to nailing the seats back down, at least once a day one of the kids topples off the wobbly cushion. They think it’s a game. My garden is pitiful. And the past five mornings my kids have had cereal for breakfast, which I wouldn’t care except a blog popped up on my newsfeed recently about how cereal is void of nutrition and the heaviness of the guilt was such a burden to me I was just trembling on the couch trying to shake it. Sometimes it’s just all too much.

I am the worst kind of perfectionist. I am one that gets so overwhelmed with falling short, that I do nothing. And now that we’re moving, my head just spins with all that has to get done. I am scared out of my mind. Last night was one of those nights that sitting on the couch watching a movie with my husband was just not in the question. The crumpled furniture, mismatched curtains, pictures toppled over on the bookcase, cereal guilt…how can I relax? I took a deep breath and went outside to find the Lord. It was such a perfect night and I wanted to be with Paul, but somehow the badgering question of, “Well, what do you want to talk about?” was not suiting my mood. I just needed rest.

I heard a sermon the other day that was about just being yourself, and how without that ability, you cannot live up to your full potential in the kingdom. Then that night, my devotional delivered the same message: “Be who I made you to be, beloved.” I just wanted to shake my head and run from those words. I don’t like that person. Sure, I am about ready to throw my sewing machine out the window. Flush my paint. Just uproot my sad pepper plant and throw it across the yard. And seriously, my living room would be better off with no pillows at all. I am just trying to get to that place when the Lord says, “I am ok with who you are,” that I can nod and be ok too.

God gave me a word at the beginning of this year and it was that we would begin to see multiplied what we have sown. Not just in finances, but in the prayers we’ve covered people in, the time we’ve put into our family, and for me, the effort I have put into knowing myself. I “sew” a lot into projects because I want to bless my family, and even though I feel like I epically fail them, I am trying to move past that guilt complex and understand that at least I tried. And God isn’t going to let all of my pressing into His plans for me go to waste, even if I get some things wrong. The problem with the guilt complex is that after awhile, I get really afraid to step out. I don’t feel worthy to dream, after all, look at the mess I‘ve made of all of these things I am trying to be good at. Ok, dreaming is obviously not for me. The Lord gave me a picture of a house in Redding with flowers planted in the front yard and I just sobbed. I want a flower garden. I want to be good at growing things, but I just shook my head because I’ve tried that and it isn’t working. Do I really want flowers, or do I just think that good moms should know how to plant flowers and keep them alive? There is always this battle in my mind of what I want next to my limitations.

The Lord showed me a picture again of the house with the sweet and modest lawn. Yes, I do want flowers. Why can’t I grow flowers? I opened my eyes and shut them fast because seeing my deck full of 50,000 matchbox cars, two old outfits that needed to be taken inside and washed, and at least a bags worth of trash snapped me back into reality that perfect just wasn’t going to happen on my watch.

“Be who I made you to be.”

I imagined my house again. One seed at a time. It will grow if it’s on God’s watch. If He put the desire in my heart, I’ll have what it takes.

“If I supply it, it’s enough for you.” He is always going to be enough. I may not always be enough for myself, or for my kids, but coming into the realization of God’s heart for me has been changing my life. He wants me to be me. I have to be ok with being me if I want to touch His kingdom for good.

*Deep Breath* I really don’t care that my house is sort of messy right now. The kitchen is clean, laundry is caught up on, my room is spotless, the kid’s room got reorganized yesterday. I am doing ok. My garden is not fruitful, but it isn’t dead either. My heart nearly broke yesterday when a girl I’ve been following at the Pregnancy Center was upset when I told her I was moving. Something about being a place where people can be vulnerable makes them not want to lose you. I think about everyone I know who is good at sewing. Good at photography. Good at painting. Good at being trendy. Why do I feel the need to hold a mirror up to them and try to see myself? God reminded me that I am writing a novel. I like to write. That‘s me and that’s ok. Jake has been making it a habit every day to say “Mommy, I love you. You are a good Mommy.” I mean, what else is there?

The problem with my senior project is that my real goal wasn’t to be a “mom,” it was to be a “perfect mom,” but that isn’t possible. But God in me is perfect, and when I align myself closely to His heart for me, for my home, for my family, the unfolded laundry in the dryer and the wrinkled shirt I’ll wear the next day is the least of my concerns. Right this second, He loves me. He needs for me to be myself. He is a safe place.

Something about the breeze last night, the sun setting sky being all of my favorite colors, and having one on one time with the Creator of the universe….it really does make all others things seem so small. Even the task of being me.

Faith or Fear?

Paul and I spent the weekend in Redding to sort of confirm the plans that have been bouncing around in our hearts. We had already decided to move there, but other than books and pod casts had never been a part of the physical experience. In fact, just several weeks ago I wanted to experience Bethel but had no idea that we would be moving there, not just visiting. But here we are officially planning to leave everything behind to pursue this desire.

This weekend was such a God ordained trip. First of all, Paul and I had not been together by ourselves overnight since our three day honeymoon (almost 4 years ago!). We needed a break, and bad. I was honestly quite terrified that we would rip one another to shreds. It was quite the opposite. This Redding move has drawn us together more than I could have imagined .First of all, we have to catch each other on a daily basis. When I’m faint with fear, Paul comes behind me with a dose of faith. When Paul is in doubt, I too catch him. We couldn’t do this without one another. Five hours in the car with all of the In N Out that we could ingest proved to be a total blessing. We laughed, talked, prayed, and dreamed of all this trip would hold for us. We stayed with Chris and Jody Trott who were so gracious to open their amazing home to us, and offer food fit for royalty! We were so spoiled. The Friday service was so good. I had such an intimate experience with the Lord that honestly left an open wound in my heart. But that’s a good thing, I am convinced. The reason I want to be at Bethel is because I want to grow, I want to move farther into the Father’s love for me and I know there are some blocks in my heart. I went to Bethel for an infusion of joy and grace, and instead came out with renewed strength, and yes, some pain. But that’s ok because God is not finished with me yet. Thank goodness.

I hardly slept Friday night. There was just so much on my mind. Housing and employment for Paul, and just taking it all in. Paul kept asking me, “Are you ready for this to be home?” and I just had no straight answer. It was all chaos in my brain. I am not even sure if there was peace as my morning started because I was overwhelmed with all that had to get done-all that has to happen that I literally have no control over. Paul told me as we pulled out from the Trott’s neighborhood,
           “This day is about us, about our new chapter. RELAX! Let’s have a good day.”
     So yes, we were not productive in the sense that nothing from my ‘list’ got accomplished. But we enjoyed each other. We got lost in Redding ten times, back and forth down the same streets looking for a restaurant we had seen an hour before. We visited the mall, Barnes and Nobles, Chipotle, Yaks Coffee, Starbucks, and more, more, more because we were so in love with this city. We were falling in love with it, and with each other again as we embarked on this adventure together. I was so tired towards the end of the day, but I told Paul that we had to look at least ONE HOUSE while we were out there. So we did. It was the house I picked out of fear: cheap, small…scary even? Oh yes. How sad for me that the one thing on my list that got crossed off was the most unproductive thing I’ve ever done in my life! One day, put me in a house behind the junk/train yard to minister, but not when my babies are young! So that didn’t work. Paul picked up an application to a local restaurant and we went back to the Trott’s house where they had planned a BBQ for us to meet another young couple that had left their “home” for a call to Redding. The entire evening was such a blessing to us. It’s safe to say that as we went to bed that night we were itching to be in Redding permanently.

Sunday morning was about cleaning and gathering and eating quick breakfasts before going to the Sunday service. Of course, it was so good. It was a confirmation in our hearts once more that we were just meant to be there. I received so many hugs that morning- stranger hugs, nonetheless! After the service, we said goodbye to our hosts, and headed to In N Out where we laughed at our pathetic country selves, we waited in a line of 15 cars to get to the drive thru window! We just couldn’t go home without it….and then it was time to pull onto the freeway. And Paul asked me again, “Are you ready for this to be home?”

Oh yes. I peered out the window to watch Shasta disappear into the distance. “It’s ok babe, we’ll be here soon enough.” The rest of the trip was sort of eventless since I told Paul I just had to sleep or I’d go crazy! When we got to Oakdale I stirred, in bad need of a bathroom break thanks to my beautiful 26 week old baby resting on my bladder. I was able to enjoy the final stretch back to Sonora and truthfully, it was strange. Paul said it best, “it’s like, Redding is my home now, you know?” It totally felt like that. Like we were coming back to Sonora to tie up some loose ends, knowing the whole time we were bound for something new.

Now more than ever I am in a place of faith that this is happening. Except every other minute when I think, “Oh God, what if this doesn’t happen?” Sure, we’ve paid our deposit. We’ve given notice on our house, and to Starbucks. But what if this doesn’t happen? The Lord has spoken to me so many times, “I’ve paved a way.” That implies that this is a straight path. Simple even. He is paving the way before my feet, and I am too afraid to take a step just in case there is nothing there. Now that I’ve been to Redding I have to make this happen. I have to trust God because I can’t get there without Him. We still do not have the money for tuition. Paul doesn’t have a job in Redding that will provide a house that is not in the projects. From here, looking out, I feel hopeless. I feel afraid. But I am choosing to respond in faith. By thanking God that He has a safe, affordable house for us. Thanking my Father that He already has a job for Paul. He has gone before us. He has made a way. *Deep Breath* That is so refreshing to my soul.

So yes, Mt. Shasta is somewhere out there waiting on me to return to it. I just cannot wait to see that icy peak peering through the clouds, then I’ll know I am home again. For now I’m in the school of faith, failing even, but relishing in the fact that God loves me just the same. I’m getting a little better every day.