The Story Behind the Story

     My mouth dropped open as fifteen-year-old Ariana giggled.

     "What did you say?" I asked, laughing myself.

     "Everyone born in the nineteen-hundreds is old."

     "Well," I chuckled back.  "Everyone born after 2000 is a baby."  She and the other students laughed good-naturedly.

     I am working with wonderful young people this summer, doing Bible clubs all over Sioux City, Iowa.  Ariana's statement brought to light just how young they all are.  All of the students were born between 2002 and 2004.  Wow!  I was in my twenties when they were born, driving, working, voting--a full-fledged member of society.  And I was their age in another century. 

    It's hard to believe I'm coming up on two decades out of high school.  several weeks ago marked eighteen years since the Class of 2000 walked across the stage to receive their diplomas, flipping their tassels on the way down.  Graduating in 2000 sounded so modern and space age at the time, especially since the fall of my senior year was still 1999.  Going into a year that was simply a two followed by three zeros was like going into uncharted waters.  Actually, most experts still consider 2000 to be the 20th century, not the 21st.  Now, 2000 sounds like a long time ago...which it is, really. It doesn't always seem like it, but it is.  

     So...what have I been up to since 2000?  Glad you asked!  I've done many things, such as mission trips, college, ministry, teaching, marriage.  It's been an adventure, and still is.  

     One thing I had been doing long before 2000, and continue to do, is writing.  I have had a passion for it as long as I can remember.  

     This weekend, a series I have written debuts on Amazon Kindle, the Riverside County Chronicles.  This series has been in the works since 2000, and there is an interesting story behind it.

     Inklings of this series had been in my heart since around 1992, when I envisioned a series about friends at a church, having adventures together.  Back in 1992, I was ten, and my idea of adventures involved mysteries, kidnapping, and secret rooms hidden in old houses.  I came up with some pretty convoluted plots and had a lot of fun.  A few of the characters I came up with at the time were the basis for the current characters.  Still, it was pretty rough stuff back in '92.  

     The story really started taking shape the summer of 2000.  Four days after my high school graduation, I left for a mission trip to Africa.  I have talked extensively about that in other posts.  Some very wonderful things happened on that trip, especially the many, many children who came to Christ.  I also enjoyed spending time in London on layovers.  I loved our interpreter in Zambia, and we are still friends today.  I met people I would never have otherwise met.  These were blessings.  There were also some refiners fires.  Very difficult experiences.  One of them was that I had a teammate (who was also my roommate all summer) who was impossible.  You can read about that whole experience in other posts, or in my book "Why I still Believe" (also available on Amazon Kindle).  But, that summer, I had a lot inside me.  A lot I needed to get out.  A lot I longed for.  I was in a foreign country with an abusive maniac.  There was no one to talk to, because she manipulated the whole trip, and everyone over there was on her side.  It wasn't worth if for me to even speak most of the time, unless I was teaching.  So, the only way to avoid losing my mind completely was to write.  I filled notebook after notebook.  I wrote journal entries about what was doing on daily, but I also had those old stories from 1992 come back to me.  

     I wanted to get to know these characters.  During this intense time of silence for me, these fictional characters were like real people to me.  They were my friends.  The only ones I had for almost ten thousand miles.  I really felt like I got to know them.  Story after story about them flowed into my heart and out my pen.  I even wrote down details about them that would never make it into the books, but just for my own reference, so I felt like I was working with real-live people.  I named the church King of Kings Baptist Church, and based it off of Corona Heights Baptist Church, the congregation I grew up in.  I wrote up a church directory, complete with everyone's address, phone number, and birthday.  I had a mental picture of exactly what everyone looked like, almost as if I could see them in front of me.  I wrote out their testimonies, how they came to faith.  

     These friends from King of Kings Baptist Church helped me battle culture shock, homesickness, and bitterness toward my roommate.  I could always retreat into my writing to be free from all of it.  I believe the very best of me went into this writing.  What's more, I don't think I could have come up with any of it under any other circumstances.  The heat had been turned up under me, and beauty came forth.  

     Although much more cohesive than my 1992 drafts, these stories from Africa weren't completely publishable.  In fact, I think their purpose was to introduce me to these friends.  Make them real to me.  When I arrived home and started taking classes at community college and working at a preschool, I would work on more stories about these friends.  These stories, from the fall of 2000, are incorporated into the series now.  They've been edited and revised here and there over the years.  

     Originally, there was one book.  But every now and then, new ideas would come to me.  I found I missed my friends.  I wondered how they were doing.  Something funny would happen in my life that would seem to fit perfectly into one of the stories.  I not only added to the original book, but wrote two more.  I had a trilogy.  And for several years, I sat on it, doing nothing else with it.  

     A little over two years ago, Walter and I were having dinner at a Sizzler.  Walter had gone to the restroom, and I was idly sitting, listening to the conversation of the family across the walkway from us.  

     "Did you know that if Star Wars hadn't made the prequels and now the sequels, my generation wouldn't be into it?" A thirteen-year-old boy was asking his parents.

     "Best idea, making those extra movies.  If the trilogy was good, having two additional trilogies is great." The father agreed.

     Hearing this struck a chord in me.  What if I wrote three prequels and three sequels?  I loved the challenge.  It wasn't hard.  These friends were practically begging to tell their stories.  

     As Walter and I got ready to move, I wrote a basic outline of my prequels.  I typed them up shortly after arriving in South Dakota.  They came from a deep part of my heart.  I even had dreams during this time that contributed.  I believe it was God's guidance in creativity.  

     So now I had six book.  What would the sequels be like?  I had great ideas from real life, and I plugged away writing.  Finally, as of a month ago, I have nine books.  They blend a little more specifically than the Star Wars movies, so they aren't really set up as three prequels, three "original" and three sequels.  They're just nine books that go together.  

     The whole series is deeply Christian, with biblical truths intermingled with humor, love, and plot twists.  Almost all aspects have some basis in real-life experience.  I set it in my home area of Riverside County, California.  I never specifically say what city the stories take place in, but I refer to many cities in the county.  In my heart, they live in Corona.  I grew up in Riverside (until age 7) and Corona (from 7 to adulthood, when I moved back to Riverside).  They're almost like one city, as they are right next to each other. If you live in one, you likely do a lot of errands in the other.  I consider both Riverside and Corona my hometown (too bad Facebook only lets me put one hometown!).  I came up with the title Riverside County Chronicles in 2010.  Until that point, I had referred to them as the Good Old Days Trilogy (It was only a trilogy at the time).  I was never happy with that title, and liked the current one much better.

      At the bottom, I have put some of the cover art used on the books.  If you are interested in looking them up on Amazon (each is only 99 cents), click on the following link--if it doesn't work, copy and paste it onto a web browser (my other two books, Why I Still Believe and The Last Resort are also at this site):   https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_2?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=Janelle+Stoermer

Thank You Very Much, Mr. VIce-President!

     It was August of 2009.  A distraught woman in her late 20's sat at a corner booth in a Burger King in Riverside, California, sipping a Diet Coke.  Frustrated, she pushed a strand of her A-line cut auburn hair behind her ear.  She had to get to business.  On the table in front of her was a journal, and she began to write in it, fast and furious.  Anything that would come to her from the happenings of the last several years.  As the late morning hours passed into afternoon, she wrote on, oblivious to time and place.  She only occasionally took a sip of her Diet Coke, refilling it once.  By the end of the afternoon when she got up to drive back downtown, where she lived, her journal was filled with bridge-burning material.  Powerful stuff.

     I was that young woman.  At that time, I had every intention of burning bridges with what I had written.  I still have that written material today.  It is not bad.  It is not unkind.  It is true, the word of my testimony.  My heart had been hurt, and I still believe I had every right to shake the dust off my feet and turn away.  However...this was not what God had for me in this instance.

     No ministry is perfect.  Churches and para-church organizations are made up of Christians, who are forgiven, but still in the sanctification process.  That very much includes me.  

     As I have shared in other posts, I had been involved with that wonderful ministry since high school days in the 90's.  From that first time I attended Christian Youth in Action training and became a summer missionary to Riverside County at age fifteen, I had found my calling.  I loved (still love) this ministry.  I loved the way God used those of us who participated.  I loved seeing children (and sometimes even adults) give their lives to the Lord.  

     Over the years, I had experienced some disillusionment.  I had seen people allowed to serve on mission trips who had hurt me.  When I had tried to express what had happened, I was not listened to.  I was once told by a ministry superior, "If you had it your way, almost no one would be involved!"  I saw numbers become a priority at times.  One time, a young woman who had served on several of their trips confided in me that she didn't really know the Lord.  There was a lack of discernment that was causing harm.  I had also heard many praising the ministry to the point that they put down the effectiveness of other ministries.  I even heard one of my fellow workers wonder aloud of the organization would usher in the rapture.  

     My concerns weren't listened to, so I wrote.  I was going to get this information to the right person.  I didn't know who that was.  Back in 2009, I had felt led by God to step down from this ministry for a while, and work for my church.  I was entering a new phase in life, but I had to write about all that I had seen.  It was vital.  I still believe that.  God just had a different time, place, way and attitude for me to pursue this.

     It must be understood that I had no desire to hurt the ministry's effectiveness.  This organization was and still is an amazing children's ministry.  Many children receive Christ as Savior every year.  My goal was to make them aware of what was going on.  Things that could be improved.  That was my only objective.    

     I happened to be in a bookstore shortly after completing my writing.  A book stood out to me.  It was Standing Firm, by former Vice-President, Dan Quayle.  He had served under President George H.W. Bush from 1989-1993.  I always had a special place in my heart for those years, since I had largely grown up during that time.  I had been a young adolescent in 1992 when the Bush-Quayle ticket lost the election.  I had been too young to vote, but I had been for Bush-Quayle.  So, seeing this book by former Vice-President Quayle in 2009 intrigued me.  I picked it up and began to read.  I ended up buying it.  

     I could write a whole review on Standing Firm.  It is a wonderful book, and I highly recommend it.  One line at the very end stood out to me.  When talking about his disappointment at losing the 1992 election, Quayle says, "How you leave is as important is how you enter, especially if you think you might come back."  That struck me like a bolt of lightening on the road to Damascus!  God used that little quote to really hit me hard.  

     I had entered the ministry a joyful young girl, happily embracing whatever God had for me.  That was how I needed to go out of it.  I shouldn't burn bridges.  Especially since I might come back.  So, in spite of my feelings, I exited as sweetly as I had entered.  I kept my bridge-burning writing to myself, praying about the right time and way to share it.

     Much has changed over the past nine years.  I continued to do ministry, even volunteering with this organization from time to time.  I have gotten healing from my painful experiences.  I am married to a wonderful Christian man.  I have gotten more experience in the professional world.  This ministry has changed as well.  They run their mission trip programs vastly differently than they used to, and their current way is much more discerning.  Certain things have come to light, without my writing.  And their ministry continues on, as I always hoped it would!

     I rejoined that ministry this summer.  I work for the Iowa chapter.  Currently, it is only for summer, but I may have future involvement with them as we prepare to move to New Mexico.  That is in the works, actually.  I am so glad I heeded Dan Quayle's advice.  In a funny way, I owe my job to him.  Probably the most underestimated Vice-President in US history, and I owe my job to him (I also have the same birthday as him, but that is beside the point).  

     I am so thankful God used our former Vice-President to help me avoid burning bridges.  He (God, not Dan Quayle!) knew what He had in store for me, and for this ministry.  Also, as a side note, I did eventually write my memoirs, in a completely different point of view.  No bridge-burning.  You can read it for 99 cents on Amazon Kindle.  It is called "Why I Still Believe".  

     I am beyond blessed.

On Fire

     So much was on the line...all else had failed...she had little to lose at this point...

    I just finished reading a very intense book entitled When We Were On Fire, by Addie Zierman.  In it, the author recounts her journey within Christianity.  There was a lot I related to, and a lot I didn't.  I feel a need to interact with it.  I don't recommend this book as an encouraging read, but I could possibly recommend it as a thought-provoking discussion starter.  There are some pretty long reviews of this book on Amazon.  It's that kind of book.  The type that provokes a lot of response.  I really enjoyed reading what my fellow readers had to say.  The one-star crowd really didn't have too much difference of opinion from the five-star reviewers.  It was their take on it that caused them to rate as they had.  As for me, I gave it three stars.  One for the excellent writing, one for the courage in sharing her story so openly, and one because I related to aspects of it.  One thing that drove me a little bit crazy was that she switched from first to second person in the story, and from past to present tense.  I've included my full review below (and this isn't the longest one on Amazon.  As I said, it's one of those kinds of books).  If you decide to read this book, let me know, because I'd enjoy "debriefing" from it with you.

     I will preface this by saying I'm about two years older than Addie (judging by the years and events stated in the book) and, as a devout Christian (then and now), I lived through many of the experiences she shares of 90s teen Christian culture. That is what drew me to this book. I would say nostalgia in this book would be very real for anyone who grew up in the 80s and 90s.


     This book is Addie's story, in her own words. She grew up "on fire" for Christ. All the trappings of 90s Christian pop-culture were a big part of her teenage faith (WWJD bracelets, browsing in Christian bookstores, zany Christian T-shirts, DC Talk, etc.). Other aspects of evangelical Christianity, which are not dependent on the decade, also permeated Addie's life, such as camps, mission trips, youth group, etc. She is bold in faith...until she is burned one too many times as a young woman. This Christian subculture she had loved so much failed her. Things that once meant deep truth to her became empty cliches. Addie recounts her plunge into depression and rebellion, and briefly recounts her journey back into church and fellowship. Her counselor and her loving husband really help her through.


     Okay, here is my take on it. First, I'm going to say I don't even like the term "evangelical", although I am one. I feel this word is more associated with voting blocs, and also gives unbelievers and more liberal Christians a way to label and put negative connotations on us. I say I am a Christian. My definition of that comes from the Bible. Most people understand this without my having to say the word "evangelical". Having said that, I don't feel her goal in this book was to rant at evangelicals (she even admits at the end that they attend an evangelical church again). I think she is sharing her struggles with some of the ways evangelical culture failed her. And you know, that shallow 90s pop-Christianity failed me too, once upon a time in 1996. I was in high school. Our church had become more "seeker-friendly" and I got kicked out of the church by the pastor because I led some kids to the Lord at Vacation Bible School. That was bad PR, I guess. It was humiliating. Totally different than Addie's experience, and yet similar in that we were both failed by the outer trappings of pop-Christianity. After this, I had my heart broken by a Christian boyfriend who was very inappropriate. Again, it was different than Addie's boyfriend story, but still similar enough. So, my heart went out to her as I read. Here is where my story is very different. First, I couldn't stand DC Talk (sorry to their fans! No offense intended). My tastes veered more toward Steven Curtis Chapman and Rich Mullins. Second, as I was a little older than Addie, I was never as into the "cool" Christian culture of the day as she was. It seemed kind of fake to me, and never made me feel very close to Christ. There were a few things I did and had (like a WWJD bracelet and a very trendy mid-90s Teen Study Bible), but mostly I wasn't into the trendy stuff. Even more different was the way I reacted when I was wounded by these fellow believers. I lost faith in people and retreated within, but I never left the faith, the church, or the Bible. I never redefined my faith. God and people were always two separate entities to me. My faith is based on the unchanging truth of God's Word. It needs no redefinition.


     Here are my conclusions about this story. Addie's faith was in people. Her eyes were on people. She looked to people to validate her and meet her emotional needs. She seldom was without a boyfriend. All of this was unhealthy and set her up for failure. I noticed that very seldom in this book does she recount an actual experience with the Lord. Even her salvation story at age 5 was based on a nightmare about hell, not on conviction of sin by the Holy Spirit. I'm not saying that wasn't real salvation. But I did notice the lack of actual connection between herself and God throughout the book. People seemed to be her lifeline. Other than when she was planning her mission trip, I never see her even trying to seek God or hear His voice, and even then, she was following her boyfriend's instructions. I really never saw her develop a mature, independent relationship with God. Maybe that's what she is doing now. She talks about redefining faith, but doesn't say what her basis is for this redefinition. If she is redefining it based on what the Bible actually says, than I agree with her. But she doesn't actually say what the basis of the redefinition is.


     Another concern I have is that she really takes issue with a lot of the Christian phraseology. She calls them cliches. Some, perhaps, are, but phrase like "Born Again" are straight out of the Bible. If we're going to call ourselves Christians, we can't take exception to God's word. And it needs to be noted that evangelical Christians are not the only group to have jargon. I have had Catholic, Mormon and Muslim friends, and they definitely had some vocabulary of their own that would need to be explained to an outsider. So, specific lingo shouldn't be seen as a purely evangelical thing. Every subculture has it.


     This was long, but there was a lot to interact with.

Written In Heaven

     BRRRING!  the blare of the telephone by my bed woke me from a troubled sleep.  It was December 23, 2009.  As I sat up to answer the phone, I squinted at the alarm clock.  2 AM.  Somehow, as I reached out to lift the receiver from the cradle, I had a feeling I knew what this was all about...

     I have hesitated ever writing this particular post.  It is one of the craziest experiences I have ever had in ministry.  I seldom talk about it, because the few times I have, I've gotten some pretty odd reactions.  However, I believe the time has come to share.

     I used to mentor and disciple a young woman I've called Marcia in this blog (not her real name, see my post The Brady Bunch).  Marcia was the oldest of six children, three girls, and three boys (who, for the purpose of preserving their privacy, I refer to as Greg, Marcia, Peter, Jan, Bobby and Cindy). Interestingly, the girls did all have long blonde hair and the boys had brown hair...but the resemblance between their lives and the fun-loving TV show ends there. Their father was in jail, and they were being raised by an emotionally-distant mother and a more involved grandmother and aunt.  I first met them in a Good News Club I helped teach in their neighborhood.  Through some circumstances orchestrated by God, I began driving them to church and AWANA.  Through this, they had opportunities go to go camp and other ministries.  It was a joy to get to see them grow in the Lord over the years.  Marcia, in particular, really had a heart for the Lord.  She, Greg and Jan all served as summer missionaries on my evangelism team.

     During the Christmas season of 2009, Marcia and other youth from the church helped me teach Happy Birthday Jesus parties in the community, and we had several children pray to receive Christ.  It was exciting.  On Sunday, December 20, I gave Marcia a new Bible as a Christmas present.  For some odd reason, I had felt compelled to write my home phone number inside.  She already had my number.  But as I gave her that Bible after church, I told her, "Marcia, if you need to, you may call me any hour of the day or night."  Even to my own ears, it sounded melodramatic.  I had no idea how soon she would be taking my advice.

     The next day, we did another Happy Birthday Jesus party.  On Tuesday, the twenty-second, I began Christmas vacation from work and ministry.  It was supposed to be a nice, relaxing day...but it wasn't.  I woke up feeling bad.  I don't mean physically.  I've never been sure how to put it into words.  But something at the core of my spirit was disturbed.  Something evil was very near.  I felt fear of unseen enemies.  Thoughts of failure and despair filled my mind.  I could barely breathe.  I felt no hope.  There was no physical reason for this.  None whatsoever.  But I felt a strong sense of debilitating defeat.  I had no desire for anything.  I finally mustered the motivation to put on some Christmas music, and that was the only thing that helped at all.  But the relief lasted only as long as the music.  I had to keep playing it all day.  Finally, I settled down into a fitful sleep.  My dreams were troubling, until the phone rang at 2:00 in the morning.

     As I sat up to answer it, my heart pounded so loudly I could hear it throbbing in my ear.  I somehow knew that this phone call had to do with the spiritual battle I'd been facing.

     "Hello?"

     "Miss Janelle?" the terrified voice was hardly recognizable as Marcia.

     "Marcia, are you okay?"

     She started to cry.  "No, I'm not.  We're getting attacked."

     I sat bolt upright in bed.  "You're getting attacked, what do you mean?"

     The long and short of it was this:  Jan had invited a very weird friend over to spend the night.  They were all in Marcia's room (which happened to be in the garage.  Their garage was separate from the house, 1940's style, but they had furnished it as a bedroom for Marcia).  This friend, whom I'll call Tammy, had begun uttering spells and saying evil things.  She had effectively put Jan into a trance.  It must be noted that Jan had not been walking with the Lord for the past several months, and had gotten in with some troubling friends at the junior high school.  Tammy was one of them.  Cindy also had some little friends over, and Tammy had supposedly cast a spell on them to put them in a trance.  While Marcia was telling me this, crying, I heard a weird voice in the background make some sort of weird statement, to which Marcia screamed, "Stop it, I'm a follower of Jesus!"  The voice stopped abruptly.

     Marcia had told me that she had started singing hymns from church, and it had helped a little.  She had been reciting the Lord's prayer every time Tammy had tried to stay anything to her.  "Will you come over and help us?"

     "I'll see what I can do."

     As I threw on clothes, I felt validated in a strange way.  The crazy feelings of earlier were part of a bigger spiritual battle.  It wasn't about me.  I drove the three miles to Marcia's house.  I was nervous.  What was I actually going to do?  What would be the outcome?  In the Bible, Paul and Silas had been thrown in jail for casting out a demon.  I wished very much that I had another believer with me, but I didn't want more people losing sleep over this.

     "Lord," I prayed.  "If there are believers anywhere on earth who are awake and know who I am, please lay on their hearts to pray for me right now."

     I decided a few things.  First, I was not going to physically touch Tammy at all, or even go near her.  Second, I wasn't going to attempt to exercise the demon unless she wanted it gone from her life.  After all, Jesus said that when a demon leaves a person, it eventually returns with seven more, unless that person has given themselves to the Lord (Matthew 12:43-45).

     As I pulled up in front of Marcia's house, a peace filled me.  It was as if the battle had already been won, and I was just going in to watch God do it.  I had joy in the Lord.  Victory was right there.  I felt the power of God surrounding me.  I know His angels went with me.

     As I entered that garage, Marcia ran and hugged me.  "That's Tammy," she pointed at a skinny junior high girl with dyed black hair and a pink streak running through it.

     Tammy's face contorted as she looked at me.  She twitched unnaturally.  The other girls in the room were quiet and subdued, but no longer seemed to be under any sort of power.

     "Read the Bible to us," little Cindy told me.

     I told the girls that this was a spiritual battle.  I read Ephesians chapter 6.

     "When you read that," Tammy spoke, "I feel peace in this room, but like I'm on fire inside."  She told me about how she had given her life to Satan and had a spirit guide living inside her.  "And he's really scared of you and wants you to leave," she told me.

     I looked her straight in the eye and said, "Tammy, you have made the wrong alliance.  Do you want to be free?"

     She twitched several more times, but finally said yes.

     I opened my Bible again.  I went through the Romans road, sharing Romans 3:23, (for all have sinned...) Romans 6:23 (For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life...), Romans 5:8, (but God demonstrates His love for us in that while we were sill sinners, Christ died for us).  Tammy listened.  Finally, I opened to Romans 10:9, and read, "If you will confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord--"

     "Aaaaaagh!"  Tammy's scream pierced the room.  The twitching grew violent.  Her whole body started convulsing.  Marcia put her hands on Tammy's shoulders, but Tammy threw her off with a strength she probably didn't possess on her own.  I looked at her face, into her eyes.  But I don't believe I was seeing her eyes.  They were black, absorbing light.  I saw the deepest fear and hate I had ever seen.  Her face twitched and contorted until it looked like the face of a gargoyle instead of a human.  I was looking into the eyes of a demon.

     "Tammy," I spoke, "You can be free, but you need to renounce this claim Satan has on your life.  You need to repent of your sins, including Satan worship.  You need to make Jesus Christ the Lord of your life, and commit to follow Him from now on.  You need to receive His as your Savior, and believe He died for you."

     Her face cleared for a minute.  "Yeah, I want that."

     "Let's pray,"  I began.  "Dear Lord, I pray for Tammy right now.  I pray that in the Name of Jesus Christ, and under His shed blood..."

     "Stop!  No!"  She screamed.  "He's trying to kill me!"

     "He knows he's going to have to leave."

     "I changed my mind.  I don't want to change."

     "Tammy, you've see what Jesus can do for you..."

     Her face contorted back to the evil gargoyle.  I had made a commitment to abide by Tammy's wishes.  She wasn't ready to renounce this.

     Instead, Tammy (or Tammy's body being controlled by the demon) turned to Marcia and said in a hard voice, "Your brother's going to hell!  He belongs to us!"

     One of the brothers had also fallen in with wrong friends.  Greg had been saved in church, and had grown in the Lord somewhat.  He was going through a very dark time, however.  At Tammy's words (or the demon's words), Marcia began sobbing.

     I looked into that evil face and stated, "You are a liar.  You work for the father of lies.  Jesus Christ is the Truth, and He is the only one we are going to listen to right now."

     The face retreated back from me, as if I were a physical threat.  I took Marcia and Jan outside into the cool, December air.  Together, we prayed about what had just happened.  I prayed for them.  And them I reminded them, "Greater is He who is in you than he who is in her."

     As I drove back into my own driveway, the sun was just coming up.  It was 6AM, four hours since I first got the call.  I wasn't sure what I had accomplished.  I still don't know.

     I know I went in the strength of the Lord, and that the evil spirit was afraid of Christ in me.  But, as Jesus warned His disciples: However, do not rejoice that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven. (Luke 10:20).  

    

   

Manifest Destiny

     It all started in January of 1848.  Gold was discovered in Coloma, California.  From that day forward, destiny was forever altered.  Hundreds of thousands of people came West to California during the Gold Rush of the 1850's (the largest vast-migration in North American history).  It really never stopped.  California continued to be viewed as an exciting state--a place where dreams could come true.  My own family history contains a bit of this story.  My mother spent her whole Midwestern childhood dreaming of coming to California.  She never wavered in this desire.  It would prove to be God-given, when she met my father (a native-born Californian) while visiting California in her early 20's in 1978.  They were married a year later.  My siblings and I were raised in Riverside County, California.
     California has some of the most beautiful scenery in the nation.  One can enjoy snow-capped mountains, refreshing lakes, rugged deserts, lush forests, the powerful Pacific Ocean, majestic cities, or rural farmland.  In Riverside County alone, one can find most of these things (not the ocean, though!).
     From a Christian point of view, California has much to offer.  This surprises people in other states who want to believe the untrue stereotypes that come out of Hollywood.  But the major Christian revivals in the 20th century began in California (most recently the Jesus Movement).  There are churches everywhere in many cities.  There are Bible colleges and seminaries.  There are thriving Christian ministries.
     The California I grew up in was like Leave it to Beaver in many ways (thirty years after this iconic show, of course).  Kids rode bikes around the neighborhood together.  All the neighbors were friends.  Moms went to each other's Tupperware parties and traded coupons.  Birthdays were big affairs on our street.  Everyone was invited.  One family on our block planted a garden and had all of us neighbor kids come help.  We used to "pan for gold" when we'd have bad flooding and get a "river" going through our street.  My dad often supervised this gold panning.  We also used to look for arrowheads.  Our family had a playground in the backyard, and all the neighbor kids wanted to come over all the time and play on it.  In our neighborhood, everyone had to go home when the streetlights turned on.  That was every family's universal rule.  So no need to wear watches!
     I grew up at a small church with a private Christian home school group.  We were all very close as well, and saw each other about four days a week (for those who claim homeschoolers don't get to socialize).  I grew up going to AWANA, Bible camp, and (as I got older) evangelism trips around Riverside County.  From the time I was in third grade, my mother taught a weekly Bible club in our garage, and all the neighbor kids came (sometimes as many as thirty kids all crowded into the garage).  It only snowed once in my childhood.  I was nine, and I screamed at the top of my lungs, because I had thought snow was something they made up for movies--I had no idea it was a real thing!  Even then, it was just flurries.  This is the California I grew up in.
     As wonderful and idyllic as it was, we all still believed that California wasn't as "wholesome" as other states.  There's this crazy lie that everyone (even Californians) believe.  It says that the worst of the worst stereotypes about California are true, and that other states are godly and conservative.  Nobody has to lock their doors.  The milkman comes and leaves a bottle of milk on the doorstep every day.  Everyone is honest.  Everyone goes to church.  Everyone tithes.  I grew up believing this was true.
     At the age of 18, I went to Missouri (until this point, the only state I had been to was Arizona).  I was in for the culture shock of my life.  I was surrounded by young people from all over, but mostly the Midwest.  I was shocked by the bad language and worse conduct of these students.  They were worldly, and many were mean.  There were kind ones too.  But it certainly wasn't the haven I had been led to believe.  After that very hard summer was over, I returned to my loving church in California.  The stereotypes of both California and of the other states were shattered.  I started to see the truth.  Everywhere  has it's good and it's bad.  There are believers everywhere, and true believers have a special love for each other, regardless of what state or country they're from.
     Somewhere since the 21st century started, California ceased to be the Manifest Destiny state it had been for over 150 years.  People are leaving faster than entering.  Laws are harsh.  Costs are high.  There is overall discontent.  There is corruption in Sacramento.  Special interest groups are given privilege that harms the public interest.  Some of the new bills being pushed would hinder believers from effectively ministering biblically.  This breaks my heart.
     So many people--mostly Christians--get into this kind of happy yet negative downward spiral about California.  This breaks my heart even worse.  The Bible never condones complaining (it cost the Israelites dearly!).  Philippians 2:14 says "Do all things without grumbling and disputing."  Do these problems going on in California need to be discussed?  Yes.  Do people have decisions to make?  Yes.  Are these decisions hard?  Absolutely.  It's okay to feel angry about the things that are wrong in the state..  But it hurts me deeply when I read on Facebook or hear people just putting down California, as if it's no good and never has been any good. Many seem to enjoy this.  Instead of looking at the many, many many faithful believers in California, they choose to look at what's wrong.  I believe this is the wrong approach.
     First, I need to say that, as a Californian who has been in the Midwest two years, California has a very strong, deep Christian community.  The believers in California do NOT deserve the blame for what is wrong.  As a Californian Christian, I refused to accept that blame.  Most believers I know in California are faithful to vote and get involved.  California is the only state that--not once, but twice--voted to keep marriage between one man and one woman (in 2000 and again in 2008).  More importantly, Californian believers are faithful to the Lord, speaking the truth in love.  They are quicker than believers in many other states to recognize threats to liberty, and quickly get involved in standing for what is right and stopping the threats from becoming a reality.  Believers in California deserve respect, not contempt.  They are fighting battles others can't even imagine.
     Secondly, California needs prayer.  Second Chronicles 7:14 says that if  "my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, I will hear from Heaven, and I will forgive their sin and will heal their land."  I recently was encouraged to hear Vice-President Mike Pence sharing this verse.  I joyfully apply it, not just to the United States, but to the state of California.  I believe prayer, not contempt, is the answer for us as believers.  Recently, so many of my friends were distraught on Facebook about some of the things going on.  Some were frantic, others hostile.  My husband and I were concerned by all of this.  The issues at hand are disconcerting.  But does panic solve anything?  No.  Does hostility?  No.  So, from noon yesterday to noon today, we (and several of our Californian Christian friends) fasted and prayed for California.  We prayed for the state.  We prayed for Governor Jerry Brown (since the Bible says to pray for our leaders).  We prayed for the state legislature.  We prayed for the bills being proposed.  Then we prayed for Christians and churches in all 58 counties in California.  I know many believers and churches in Riverside and San Bernardino Counties...but fewer in others, and none in several.  That's what the Internet is great for!  I was able to find Bible-preaching churches in all 58 counties to pray for.  These believers are doing wonderful things for the Kingdom of God.  There is so much faithfulness.  God is clearly at work.  Why can't that be our focus when we think about California, instead of the corruption?  I have great joy in what God is doing through His people in my home state.
     There was a time when I looked down on people who moved out of California (even my own parents, who retired to Idaho two years before my husband and I moved to South Dakota).  I thought that was giving up the battle.  But, having left myself, I can see more objectively.  People need to do what God is calling them to do.  Walter and I left, not because we give up on California, but because God has led us this way.  That's the whole reason for us.  And sometimes, God has something else in store for someone.  If every Christian left California, that would be the end of it all.  But that isn't happening.  Some are called to stay, others to go.  And we should respect everyone's decision in this.  We are responsible for obeying the Lord.  I am not responsible for the state of California.  God is.  It's in His hands.  He has His believers strategically placed all over this country and world.  I will close with some scenic California pictures--to show you how I see California.  Ten points for each picture that you can identify the location!!!😉

Amusing Anecdotes

     As I left my library book at work (I was at the most exciting part too, and now have to wait until tomorrow 😒), I decided to put my time to good use.  I thought I'd share some amusing anecdotes about things students have been saying.  You'll enjoy.

     By way of brief explanation, I have been challenged by my boss to really work on cognitive development with the children.  One of several things I do is to ask a thought-provoking question every day, and give them a chance to answer, and to also explain their thinking.  Here are a few of my questions (seven, to be precise), and some of their answers:

1) WHAT MAKES YOU HAPPY?

  *"The sun makes me happy, because it shines down on me."

  *"My daddy makes me happy, because he bought me a new power ranger!"

  *"What doesn't make me happy is the rain!  I can't stand it!"

  *"The rain does make me happy."

      Me: "Why?" 

      Child "Because the rain likes me!" 

      Me "how do you know the rain likes you?  Did it tell you?" 

      Child (giving me an odd look), "Rain doesn't talk!"

      Me: "Then how do you know the rain likes you?"

      Child: "Because I carry an umbrella.  Rain always likes people with umbrellas!"

     *"Birthday parties make me happy, because they're fun and you get cake!"

2) HOW CAN YOU HELP SOMEONE TODAY?

     *"I can help a fireman get a kitty out of a tree!"

     *"I can help someone hang something on the wall with tape."

     *"I can help my mom do the dishes."

     *"I can help pass the food around the table during lunch."

     *"I can help my mom clean my room."

3) WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE TIME OF DAY, AND WHY?

     *"Eight-thirty."
      Me: "Why 8:30?"

      Child: "Because I like those numbers."

     *"Nighttime, because I like to sleep."

     *"Daytime, so I can play!"

     *"At night, because I can play in my room."

     *"Birthday time!"

     *"The morning, because I can get up and play all day long."

4) WHY IS YOUR FAMILY SPECIAL?

     *"I love them so much with all my life and will never give them up!"

     *"My mom cooks us dinner every night."

     *"I help my mom clean the kitchen."

     *"My mom spanks my brother when he picks on me."

     *"I have twenty-one grandmas!"

     *"My dad plays trucks with me, and my mom is special too, but I just don't know why."

     *"A family?  I don't think I have one of those." (this child most certainly does.)

5) IF YOU WERE THE TEACHER AND NO ONE WAS LISTENING, WHAT WOULD YOU DO?

     *"I would be frustrated."

     *"I would yell, 'I'm mad!' loud and they'd get scared and stop."

     *"I would yell, 'STOP!' really loud."

     *"I would put everyone on a time out."

     *"I would call real grown-ups to help."

     *"I'd say Ssssh!"

     *"I'd give them all a spanking!"

6) WHAT WAS THE BEST GIFT YOU EVER RECEIVED?

     *"Santa gave me play dough.  I like to play with it."

     *"A tent!  I like to sleep in it, and it's fun! It was a big present."

     *"A doll that sells ice cream.  It's fun to play with."

     *"A Barbie doll, because I like Barbie dolls."

     *"Fake ketchup, because it's funny."

7) WHAT IS THE HARDEST THING YOU'VE EVER DONE?

     *"Eat cereal." 

      Me: "Why is that the hardest thing?"

      Child: no answer.  

     *"Building a dinosaur with blocks."

     *"Blowing up a swimming pool with a pump.  My daddy had to help me after a while."

     *"Balancing"

     *"Learning to cut by myself." 

     *"Ballet"

Included

     I recently wrote a post about being included (Left Out or State of Mind?).  I'm now going to approach the subject from a different angle.  How can we, as Christians, make those around us feel included?  As I had said in the other post, feeling left out can be a legitimate experience...or it can be just a state of mind.  It can play on our insecurities.  How can we make people around us--those we work with, those we call neighbors, those who visit our churches and Bible studies--feel included?  How can we avoid preying on their insecurities?  Well, ultimately, we don't know what's going on inside them.  We don't know what will or won't hit a nerve.  We don't know where they've been or what they've experienced.  So, in short, we really can't be prepared for every individual.  But there are some basic principles we can be mindful of.

     First, we can be aware of the fact that not everyone relates to the things we do.  Their experiences may be vastly different than ours.  I remember the summer I was seventeen.  It was my third year being a summer missionary.  At the first meeting of summer, all the perspective summer missionaries showed up for a pre-training.  Most of us that year were home-schooled, Baptist, from strong families whose parents had read all of Dr. Dobson's books.  We were all involved in AWANA in our churches.  We read similar books, and shared similar life experiences.  We shared certain values.  Upon meeting up at the training, we all began chatting about things we all related to.  However, there was one girl there who wasn't from the same lifestyle as the rest of us.  She was from a broken home, and hadn't been a Christian very long.  She was completely unfamiliar with the things the rest of us were discussing.  We were all too thoughtless to reach out to her, and she was too unfamiliar with our conversation to join in.  She ended up not being on our summer team that year after all.  She told the director she didn't fit in.  When I found out, I felt very badly.  It made me wish I had made that effort to include her.

     What could I have done differently?  I could have realized that not everyone is part of my experiences, but they still need to be reached out to and loved.  This is not limited to home school kids.  When I was single, I went to a Women's Bible study.  The main leader used a lot of analogies about marriage.  "You know, ladies, we all know what it's like when our husbands..." and from there, she'd draw some parallel to the point she was making in the study.  As single at the time, I didn't relate.  My desires for that right man were strong.  It was something I constantly prayed about.  The Bible study leader's careless comments made me feel really bad.

     Another time (also when I was single), I was at a ministry conference.  The keynote speaker was referring to family. He made the very careless comment: "All of us in this room are either a kid living at home, or we're married with our own kids, so we all know..."  Ouch!  I was in my 20's, had my own home, but wasn't married and certainly didn't have kids.  His little statement completely excluded me.  No, it denied my existence.  I am certain this wasn't his intention, but it stung.  I tuned out the rest of his talk after this, as he made it clear that he wasn't talking to single adults who own their own houses.

     Ironically, by the time I got married, I was in another Bible study.  As it happened, most of the women were single, and I was the only married one.  And the same thing happened.  I was excluded.  They would invite each other out for coffee or other fun activities in front of me, but didn't think to include me, because I was married.

     I have also seen this sort of thing happen with regards to children.  Churches have all the mothers or fathers stand up on Mother's Day and Father's Day.  This can be very painful, and make those who weren't able to have children (as well as single people who never married at all) feel like they missed out on this major life event.  As someone who doesn't have children, I can attest that it sometimes makes me feel less human.  Sometimes the wounds from these things can run deep.  Careless comments can rub salt in the wounds.  It is a way to make people feel excluded.  It may be more a state of mind exclusion.  Obviously, these things are not cruel or intentional.  The person can choose to let it bother them or let it go.  But we're looking at this as the person potentially being exclusive.  These types of thoughtless comments can do a lot to hurt people.  We just need to be mindful and aware that not everyone has had our experiences of life (schooling, family, singleness, marriage, children, job, home...the list can go on and on). 

     Second, after we realize that not everyone shares our experiences, the next step is to speak in first person when sharing things.  There is nothing hurtful about a Bible study leader saying, "I know when my husband..." and drawing that parallel.  Those who are married will relate.  Those who are not married can still follow the point being made.  The same is true with children.  Even Jesus made reference to children, when He did not have earthly children (Matthew 7:11, Matthew 19:14).  Speaking in first person means using "I" and "me" statements, not "you" or "we".  That puts the responsibility on the speaker, not the listener.

     Third, we can get to know people on their own merits.  Some people will be our good friends.  Some will not.  A mentor of mine uses the word "tribe".  Some people are in your tribe.  Some aren't.  Not everyone is a kindred spirit.  That's okay.  But that doesn't remove our responsibility to reach out and get to know people.  Asking their name.  Finding out about their life.  Showing interest and concern.

     If we realize that all our life experiences are different, speak in first person, and get to know people, we'll be making great strides toward including people in a way that honors the Lord.