Getting to Know the Lewis's

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This past year has been what I have named, “The Year of CS Lewis”. I will explain further on, how I came to commit myself to reading the works of CS lewis throughout this past year. For now, I will share my journey of coming to this point of getting to know the Lewis’s.

I don’t remember the first time I heard of CS Lewis. I’m sure it was when I was a child. Perhaps it was when I was in my elementary school years and I’d go hang out in my dad’s church office. We had free reign in his office! Paper, pens, playing with the phone and all the buttons, hiding under his desk, using the stapler, and flipping through his rolodex to find phone numbers! Ha! And sometimes, there would be mint Tic Tacs! At some point in my younger years, I began to be curious what all the books on his shelves were about. There were whole volumes dedicated to single books in the Bible called “commentaries”, and books on all sorts of topics. That was when I realized there was so much to learn and so much to know about the Bible. It intrigued me. Perhaps it was then that I noticed a book by CS Lewis, or heard one of his quotes in a sermon. There were three moments in time that were pivotal in my introduction to CS Lewis.

The first time I remember hearing about The Chronicles of Narnia was when I was in 6th grade. My public school class was given three options of books to read and we had to choose one. I can’t remember exactly what choices were given, except for one. When I saw the title, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, I most emphatically chose to avoid that one. A witch? No thank you. I’m not reading that one. I didn’t know what this story was about and my parents probably didn’t either. I am second-generation Canadian. My grandparents were from Russia, and when their families moved to Canada, the goal was survival, making a new life in a time when there was much uncertainty due to war, immigration, making ends meet, and starting families. Their language was German and their culture was Mennonite. (My parents grew up with a mixture of German and English spoken in their homes.) Learning the best of English literature was not a priority, and the furthest thing from their minds. Most of my relatives at that time probably didn’t even know English until the younger children began going to public schools where they could easily learn and assimilate to their new country and culture.

My elementary years carried on and into junior high school, and then onto senior high. In all those years, I never heard of Narnia again, until I went to Bible College several years later. I remember the exact night I heard of this enchanted place, the passion in the words being spoken about this great story of a great Lion, Aslan. I had a wonderful group of Christian friends, brothers and sisters that I would hang out with. One night, several of these friends were talking about their love of and passion for Narnia. Their eyes lit up and these young men couldn’t stop talking about Narnia. I was inspired. Perhaps, I thought, I should read the Chronicles of Narnia! And so, eventually, I bought a cheap paperback edition and began reading through the series, slowly progressing through the years and enjoying every bit of every story with all my heart. It was after I was married that I decided I needed to finish this children’s series before our baby was born. So I spent the last month before she arrived reading and devouring the final couple books!

The third introduction I had to CS Lewis was when we had three children and my husband and I decided to start reading the Chronicles to our children. It was hilarious to see our oldest two children open the closet door and hesitate, thinking that if they walked through the coats, would they end up in Narnia? We did start reading, but it was short lived and the children weren’t ready quite yet. So we waited. When we got to seminary, we began again, but this time from the chronological beginning, The Magician’s Nephew. The kids were ready and I spent the next year reading aloud to them the entire series. It was a joy to share with my kids these stories I had grown to love.

And so, there you have it. I read the Chronicles of Narnia through twice, and love them!

It was last summer. I was talking with one of the teachers at our kids’ new school and she was telling me about one of the books her older class would be reading that year. It was another CS Lewis book. I realized then that, besides the Chronicles of Narnia, I had not read any of his other books. Such an influential Christian author of the twentieth century, a man whom I had heard quoted all my life, through Bible college, etc, and I hadn’t read any of his other works? How did I even make it through Bible college without having read any of his works? I decided then and there that I would take a year to become more acquainted with the works of Lewis. I began with the suggestion from this friend, his final novel ever written, Till We Have Faces.

I would love to give a book review/reflection on each of the works I have read of his this year, but that may have to wait for another time. For now, I would like to share which of his books I have indeed read this year. I began with his fiction and am now discovering the person of CS Lewis as well as a biography of his dear wife, Joy. Here is a brief list of the Lewis books I have read thus far… a year later:

Till We Have Faces

Out of the Silent Planet

Perelandra

That Hideous Strength

The Four Loves

Mere Christianity

Surprised by Joy, the Shape of my Early Life

And God Came In (biography of Joy Davidman) by Lyle W. Dorsett

There are many more of his works that I hope to read in this ongoing effort to dive into the wisdom, personality, and testimony of CS Lewis. I am fascinated by the way God brought both “Jack” and Joy to Himself, as well as to each other in marriage and love, and the ways their lives influenced each other and complimented each other. This is one reason why I love to read and write biographies… to see the work of God in and through a person’s life and how its influence reaches into the lives of tens, hundreds, thousands throughout the years and generations.

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Were You There When God Raised Him from the Tomb?

{This photo is one I took in 2007 when my husband and I traveled to Scotland. On the Isle of Iona, I climbed this hill, passing sheep along the way, and alone with the Lord, sat and watched the sunset one evening during Holy Week.}

{This photo is one I took in 2007 when my husband and I traveled to Scotland. On the Isle of Iona, I climbed this hill, passing sheep along the way, and alone with the Lord, sat and watched the sunset one evening during Holy Week.}

Today is Holy Saturday. Its the day between Good Friday, when Jesus Christ was crucified, and Easter Sunday, when God raised Jesus, His Son, from the dead. I’m entering into “the tomb” this weekend, to sit in the silence, to feel the weight of it all, to experience the senses and imagine what it might have been like as God raised Jesus from the dead. With my human limitations, and incomplete knowledge, I am imagining something that we will finally know in all its more glorious detail when we enter into eternity. This is a simple piece of writing that is a tool to help one delve deeper into the reality of Christ’s resurrected, physical, and eternally present body that was given for you and for me, and for the life of the world.

{On the Isle of Iona stands a 1,000 year old cross.}

{On the Isle of Iona stands a 1,000 year old cross.}

Were you there when God raised him from the tomb?
Were you there when God raised him from the tomb?
Oh, sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.
Were you there when God raised him from the tomb?

-African American Spiritual

A wind blew through the garden under the cover of a tormented night sky. It would soon be morning. Dewdrops quivered on the pure white lilies growing in the garden outside of the tomb. Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus had laid his lifeless body there, wrapped in linen and adorned with spices. Torn flesh and spilled blood, poured out for the life of the world. His body drained of life, now dead, cold, and empty. A body with no spirit is a vacant body, beginning the process of a slow decay back to dust from which humanity was formed.

“For you will not abandon my soul to Sheol,
    or let your holy one see corruption.” Psalm 16:10

The air was still. The fragrance of spices were present. Death was having its way, and the curse was doing its work of destruction on the Son of God, the Son of Man. The body of Jesus lay on a stone table. A cloth lay across the face of one whose eyes had looked into the faces of sinners as he declared them forgiven and loved, as he healed their wounds and forgave their debts they could not pay.

“He was despised and rejected by men,
    a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief;
and as one from whom men hide their faces
    he was despised, and we esteemed him not.

Surely he has borne our griefs
    and carried our sorrows;
yet we esteemed him stricken,
    smitten by God, and afflicted.
But he was pierced for our transgressions;
    he was crushed for our iniquities;
upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace,
    and with his wounds we are healed.” Isaiah 53:3-5

Silence.

“O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?” 1 Corinthians 15:55

The Breath of Life that hovered over the waters at Creation, entered the tomb, entered the Body, filling His lungs with oxygen. The Breath of Life that breathed life into Adam and Eve’s created bodies, brought what was lifeless to life and quickened every cell in His body. Decay did not have a fighting chance to reduce the Creator to dust.

In front of the Iona Abbey, is a sunken garden surrounded by a stone wall and every spring, new life returns to the garden.

In front of the Iona Abbey, is a sunken garden surrounded by a stone wall and every spring, new life returns to the garden.

The linens dropped from Jesus’ body. He folded the cloth that covered his face and gently placed it off to the side. He looked down at his hands and at the eternal wounds that would forever be a witness of His sacrifice. He breathed deeply. The stone in front of the tomb moved away from the entrance. The air from the tomb mingled with the fragrances of the garden. Our Lord breathed in his creation and emerged from the tomb. Each step of his feet pressing into the moist earth, moving amongst the olive trees, feeling the tender leaves between his fingers, listening to the wind, and gazing up into the sky as slivers of light pierced the darkness and gave way to a new morning. And all the host of Heaven beheld His glory.

And one of the elders said to me, “Weep no more; behold, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, has conquered, so that he can open the scroll and its seven seals.”

And between the throne and the four living creatures and among the elders I saw a Lamb standing, as though it had been slain, with seven horns and with seven eyes, which are the seven spirits of God sent out into all the earth. And he went and took the scroll from the right hand of him who was seated on the throne. And when he had taken the scroll, the four living creatures and the twenty-four elders fell down before the Lamb, each holding a harp, and golden bowls full of incense, which are the prayers of the saints. And they sang a new song, saying,

“Worthy are you to take the scroll
    and to open its seals,
for you were slain, and by your blood you ransomed people for God
    from every tribe and language and people and nation,
and you have made them a kingdom and priests to our God,
    and they shall reign on the earth.”

Then I looked, and I heard around the throne and the living creatures and the elders the voice of many angels, numbering myriads of myriads and thousands of thousands, saying with a loud voice, 

“Worthy is the Lamb who was slain,
to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might
and honor and glory and blessing!”

And I heard every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and in the sea, and all that is in them, saying, 

“To him who sits on the throne and to the Lamb
be blessing and honor and glory and might forever and ever!”

And the four living creatures said, “Amen!” and the elders fell down and worshiped.

Revelation 5:5-14 ESV

He is risen! He is risen, indeed!

He is risen! He is risen, indeed!

My Unmoving Mansion of Rest

Growing up, we often moved as my dad enjoyed building and selling homes. It was thrilling for my sisters and I to participate in all the details. Everything from looking at the architectural plans, painting the wooden staircase spindles, picking rocks from the dirt, and painting our parents bedroom, the latter of which was halted after we turned their wall into a canvas of creativity! Smells of hardware stores and lumber yards still bring me back to happy summer days on the building site. As I poured through home and garden magazines as a little girl, a longing for my own future home began to grow. Would it be a cozy log cabin in the woods or a sprawling homestead atop an evergreen mountain? Daydreams are longings within our heart that are enjoyed and expressed through imagination. I daydreamed often.

Fast forward many years, my husband and I and our little family have moved to four different cities and now have returned to one of them, and nine homes in twelve years! At the flower shop the other day, a clerk asked, “Are you in military service?” Paying for my lavender and aloe plants, I smiled, “No, we are in church service!”

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We have been called to a life of many ministry moves. Each one, intentionally placed within the framework of our story for God’s purposes. Moving a lot was never our intention, but it was always God’s. With another impending move in two years, after further training in church planting, I am coming to a calm contentment that my times are in His hands (Psalm 31).

In Morning and Evening, Charles Spurgeon writes:

“The Israelites in the wilderness were continually exposed to change. Whenever the pillar stayed its motion, the tents were pitched; but tomorrow, ere the morning sun had risen… and the fiery, cloudy pillar was leading the way through the narrow defiles of the mountain… They had scarcely time to rest a little before they heard the sound of “Away! this is not your rest; you must still be onward journeying towards Canaan!” They were never long in one place... Yet they had an abiding home in their God, his cloudy pillar was their roof-tree, and its flame by night their household fire. They must go onward from place to place, continually changing, never having time to settle, and to say, “Now we are secure; in this place we shall dwell.” “Yet,” says Moses, “though we are always changing, Lord, thou hast been our dwelling-place throughout all generations.”… My unmoving mansion of rest is my blessed Lord.”
— Charles Spurgeon, Morning & Evening, February 27th

My heart still aches every time I think about leaving family and friends again. A knot still forms in my stomach as we talk about another transition. When these feelings come, I am comforted by those who have felt a similar call. Missionary to Burma, Ann Judson wrote often of her inward struggle in leaving all she knew to pursue a call to Burma with husband, Adoniram Judson. She wrote,

“It seems as if there was no resting place for me on earth. O when will my wanderings terminate? When shall I find some little spot, that I can call my home while in this world? Yet, I rejoice in all Thy dealings, O my heavenly Father; for Thou dost support me under every trial, and enable me to lean on thee…” 
— Ann Judson: A Missionary Life for Burma, Sharon James, pg. 68

In the New Testament, Paul writes of God now dwelling in the hearts of believers in Christ. The dwelling place of God is now in human hearts through faith in Christ. He has become our home. I am rooted and grounded in love.

“For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth is named, that according to the riches of his glory he may grant you to be strengthened with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith—that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.”
— Ephesians 3:14-19


When the enemy tempts me to despair in the midst of so many moves, I look to my Savior, the One who chose me, rescued me from sin, and gave me a purpose on this Earth. God is the one who gives us the desires of our hearts and he has given us a passion for the calling and work he has prepared for us to do. It is in surrender to God’s will, that the morning of joy dawns and a peaceful contentment arises. Being firmly planted into union with Christ, I am “at home in my God”, and can confidently wander this Earth to serve the One who did not have a home. 

And Jesus said to him, “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.”
— Luke 9:58

As we settle into our new temporary home, with the fresh smell of the woods behind our house, pine needles and little acorns to be swept off the patio, we are grateful. The Lord has been kind to give us a place to welcome friend and stranger, to know and be known, to love and be loved. We continue to daydream of a home and a church and of many people coming to know Jesus. And our greatest dream is that all who enter here become rooted and grounded in Love.

Let prospects be blighted; let hopes be blasted; let joy be withered; let mildews destroy everything; I have lost nothing of what I have in God… I am a pilgrim in the world, but at home in my God. In the earth I wander, but in God I dwell in a quiet habitation.
— Charles Spurgeon, Morning & Evening, February 27th

Elisabeth Elliot and an Introduction to Wildflowers Girls Mag

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I cannot remember the first time I sensed the Lord calling me to full time ministry, but I do remember the moment He put in me a passion for missions. A fourteen year old teenager, I had traveled to Mexico with my family and church. We set up our camp, Canadians and Americans, in a farmers field perched high atop the hills of Tijuana. But nationality and citizenship counts for little when you are a citizen of Heaven.

We found unity and camaraderie among the group of about 60 Christians who had gathered in this field to set up our tents and trailers and camp out for the week while we drove in and out of our mission site to build a home for a family. Showers were in areas blocked with black plastic tarp nailed to a framed makeshift room with wild blue sky above. We gathered our one bucket of cold shower water from the large communal pool each day, dunked our heads in the water to wash our hair and rinse off by pouring the rest over our heads.

Each morning as we drove into town, we would be chased by cheering children to our work site. In an area surrounded by a cycle of poverty that was restricted by a complicated governmental system to work within, we set to work assisting a family in adding two rooms to their already deteriorating two room shack. Then one morning as I saw several young adult missionaries in their twenties jumping into their jeep and driving down the dirt path, it was that moment that I knew God was giving me a new passion in life.

What followed was years of working with various churches in various roles, short term missions trips, Bible college, long term ministry, and a desire to encourage and build up missionaries on the field. My heart was being reoriented in a specific direction by the Lord. It is no wonder then that my favorite genre of literature is missionary and historical biographies of which I have been reading since I first picked up the book Bruchko at a Bible school in Texas. This was also where I first met, in the pages of her book on purity, beloved modern missionary, Elisabeth Elliot.

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Earlier this year, I had the privilege and joy of writing a biography of Elisabeth Elliot, missionary to the Auca tribe in Equador for a new girls magazine called Wildflowers. I felt honored to be able to pray, research, and write an account and short biographical sketch of her life, to pass on her story to a new generation of young girls, and to be a part of the thread that ties Elisabeth’s story to these young girls’ stories.

Elisabeth Elliot remains one of the most powerful contemporary examples for Christian women, and thousands of women, young and old, have been discipled by her through her books and radio broadcasts. Through the trials she endured, her resolute trust in God and her love for Christ Jesus inspires vast numbers of women to live their lives in faithful surrender and obedience to God no matter the cost. Wildflowers, pg 12

Being the first issue of the magazine, the theme was Spring, new life, and getting outside to see the miracles that abound. My soul was in desperate need of spring this year. After a very long winter in the midwest, spring only lasted for about a week before turning into the heat and humidity of summer, though very beautiful indeed. I didn’t really get a normal spring this year. In fact, the winter was more like a rough and rocky dirt path. But the Lord encouraged my heart this morning to remind me that this is where wildflowers grow.

Sally Lloyd-Jones writes in her most recent newsletter,

“Don’t you love it when flowers start preaching? It’s the long winter, the difficulty, the struggle, the hard ground that draws beauty from the soil. And one day—everywhere you look there is life and you’re overtaken by wild flowers. What hope!” - Sally Lloyd-Jones

The Lord reminded me of wildflowers again this week while on a lovely walk beside the Bay as I found my own favorite wildflowers along a stony path that have been preaching to me for years. As in Elisabeth Elliot’s life, the Lord takes our times of pain and struggle and brings forth beauty, not only in our lives but in the lives of countless others and like Sally writes, suddenly there are wild flowers springing up everywhere. May these essays be like seeds in young girls lives to bring about gospel hope, truth and beauty… everywhere!

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And now I must close this off and tell you where you can find this lovely magazine for young girls, because the summer issue is about ready to be released, and today I get started on my research for the next biographical sketch for the Fall issue.

To purchase your copy of the Spring issue of Wildflowers, click here. Wildflowers was created by my friend Maegan Keaton and is a creative collection of stories, book reviews, photography and DIY projects for girls ages 8-12! Just the perfect first magazine to give to my now ten year old daughter!

Woodland Hollow - A Memoire of our Life and Years at Seminary

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I remember the exact spot along the main street of our town where my husband mentioned to me that he was thinking of going back to school to get his Master of Divinity degree. My eyes widened and I took a deep breath. It was 2014 and we had just had our fourth born child. My husband was already seasoned in church ministry and as a worship and missions pastor, and we were just starting to feel settled two years into our new life in Eastern Washington. The idea of a monumental move to seminary life was both exhilarating and overwhelming. We kept talking and dreaming, researching and praying. A year of preparation later, we were on the interstate driving to our new home, a place I had never been, in St Louis, Missouri. 

Three years later, this May, my husband graduated with his Mdiv from Covenant Theological Seminary with honors. He did it! We did it! God did it! These three years are so full of life, provision, friendship and growth... and Hebrew translations! I told someone that I could write a book on our time at seminary, because God did so much!

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Our little apartment on campus has been such a blessing. At only about 900 square feet of livable space, our family of 6 has lived life to the full. Birthday parties, holiday potlucks, men’s campfire nights, prayer nights with the ladies, and coffee with friends, our small kitchen and dining area has hosted over 15-20 children and 12 plus adults at once. We don’t believe in letting the size of our home dictate how many people we welcome into our home. The Lord provides the space and the food fills the tummies.

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Surrounded by a Viburnum "Korean Spice" flowering bush, we found delight in our  patio, a sanctuary from the hustle and bustle of community life. A place to be still and quiet before the Lord and a place to watch the sun rise just over the hill as rays of light streamed in through the windows in the morning. The Lord knew exactly what we needed for our family of six. My husband constructed 5 garden boxes where we did a little gardening, although Ferdinand the Squirrel was caught red-handed with a cucumber in his mouth!

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We grew flowers, and grew our imaginations as little woodland friends (pet substitutes) joined us on our patio every day. Perhaps the critters felt that we needed to share the space, after all, Edith Schaeffer would have welcomed them with her hospitality! I remember one bold chipmunk running between my feet to scale the wall as I watched the birds and hummingbirds one summer afternoon! Lizzie the Lizard hasn't been seen for ages, but she made a comeback in our lives when my Kindergartner made a toilet paper roll replica of her reptile-likeness.

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The natural surroundings on campus have been a place of great imagination for the kids, making tree forts and pretending to be wolf children in the snow with their friends! One December turned out to be a lovely warmish day and the seminary kids congregated on our hill and played in the sprinkler like it was summer! At other times, it wasn’t unusual to see a seminary dad and his kids sledding past my window on an early winter morning.

God has provided for us in so many ways, financially, with our health, and in relationships. There were an abundance of trials that went along with this very sweet season of life for our family. We had to continue day by day in faith that God would provide the work and finances that we needed to get by. We were at times inundated with health issues and at other times, completely illness free for months. We watched the Lord provide as checks would come in the mail at just the right time, and we watched God work through our circumstances to push and prod us in certain directions.

There were times where we felt strong spiritual attacks and several times when I would wake up in the middle of the night speaking the name of Jesus aloud as I woke up and bolted upright. I would pray through the night and speak the Word of God aloud.

There were other times I felt the Lord's presence so strongly. And there were days I didn't know how I would make it through with all the responsibilities that were on my plate each day and the various needs of our young family. But like a gentle shepherd, Jesus cares for those with young and He carried me through this season that He called us to.

He tends his flock like a shepherd:
    He gathers the lambs in his arms
and carries them close to his heart;
    he gently leads those that have young.
— Isaiah 40:11

When we first set out for seminary, there were many who had concerns if this was good for our family. What we found was, there were many families just like us who were doing just what we were doing, living by faith because of God's call, taking up our crosses to follow Him into the unknown and trusting that He would sustain and provide. We are eternally grateful for this season of life and that it is a part of our story.

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Woodland Hollow is what I named our little patio and home on the beautiful sprawling campus of Covenant Seminary. There was beauty and friendship, kindness and compassion, prayer and healing. There was sidewalk chalk and "science experiments", mud pits and basil-snatchers, fresh sweet tea and read alouds by the campfire, and conversations with expectant mothers as a birth doula. The ebb and flow of life, changing seasons, tornado warnings, summer storms, fireflies and spilled birdseed.

When I think about my favorite places in St Louis, I immediately come up with three:  the Missouri Botanical Gardens, my bedroom desk corner that looked out towards the pine tree along the path behind our building, and our living room couch where I gazed out the window to watch our children, the flowers and the birds as they grew from season to season and year to year in our special corner of St Louis.

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