Wednesday, September 23, 2009

My Spiritual Journey--through the summer of 1950

You might want to read part 1 of my spiritual journey if you missed it. 

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Beaverton Union High School graduation


Deadly Accident


Rebellion


Bitterness


Anger


Agony


Grief


My childhood Bible

Its tattered and torn, but it served me well during those 'tween years before college.  The King James Version was the only version I had seen as a young person.  I found it laborious to read, hard to understand, at times, and often struggled with consistency in being in the Word.  During my teen years I look back and see that I was a fairly "pompous" Christian, priding myself on what I did not do, rather than Whom I served!!  I realize now, with hindsight, that I knew very little about a 'gut-level' relationship with the Lord, nor did I have a grasp of what it meant to grieve the Holy Spirit.


I was outwardly pious, but inwardly I was something of a rebel.  I had two vices--one was dragging Broadway in downtown Portland on Saturday nights, and the other was an addiction to roller skating!!


I had a good friend (Christian family) who had no limits put on her and she had the use of a car.  So....I often spent the night with her  where there were no curfews...and we were on the wild side--nothing terrible, but I would have embarrassed my mother if she had seen me yelling out of the car windows on Broadway!!


I graduated from high school in 1950 and  I had my acceptance letter from Westmont College in Santa Barbara.  I was elated over going away to college and excited about planning all I would need to take with me, shopping for clothes, and all the things that go with going out of state for school.  Little did I know what lay ahead that summer....


During the summer of 1950, my adored uncle (my mom's youngest brother), in a terrible accident, backed over and killed his own little four year son.  This had happened at a southern Oregon beach town, so it was the next day that a friend drove them to our home where they stayed for many weeks.  It was the darkest time I had ever experienced.  I remember standing in my bedroom and shaking my fist at God and yelling. "Why? Why? Why?" and feeling such anger at God.  I scared myself!


Until that day, I had never seen my Father cry.  Family gathered at our home waiting for my Uncle and family to arrive.  I saw my big, strong, farmer Uncle (Mom's oldest brother), who came with his family, walk in and stretch out on my parents' bed and sob like a baby.  Later in the day we all received the grieving family into our home, our hearts,  and into our arms.  


Family--what an all encompassing word!  


We huddled close, we wept, we planned a funeral, we viewed the remains of a beautiful little golden-haired child.....and we wept some more.


It was terrible to see my handsome young uncle, who stood 6 feet, 6 inches, reduced to a sobbing confused, childlike man, who had just turned 40!  Even as I write this, almost sixty years later, my heart wrenches in remembrance!  We actually spoon fed him, for in his grief, he could not eat without help.  (My Uncle lived another forty years, had two more sons, but the twinkle in his eye, died with his little David!)


A root of bitterness welled up in me that summer against God, and I was overwhelmed, watching my aunt and uncle trying to mend their shattered lives, as they dealt with grief in a way that I had had yet to experience.


This was my first "valley" experience.  There were to be many more, but none have been quite so raw as this one was.


coming--the college years and healing

Friday, September 18, 2009

My Spiritual Journey, part 1


1932

A Swiss Miss is born


1941


The High Calling

Good News

Born Again


Finding a Well of Peace


Certainty in an Uncertain World

I was the first child of my parents, Bud and Grace. Dad was a grocery store manager and mother was the head of an obstetrics hospital here in Portland. My mother was a Christian, but my father was not. They had married without her parents' full blessing.

When I was four years old, an evangelist, Charles E. Fuller came to our town, Baker, Oregon, for one night. It was below zero, but Mother persuaded Dad to go. He was truly gloriously changed that night as he found the Lord....and his life was never to be the same again. He was so excited he forgot his overcoat, despite the cold temperature.

Shortly after that, we returned to Portland and were part of a body of believers called Grace and Truth Assembly (Plymouth Brethren). After the mornings of worship and preaching, I used to come home truly disturbed over all of the talk about "eternity". In fact, it was the most disturbing word in my childhood vocabulary! "Forever" just blew my mind and I found it frightening to think about.

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As the winds of war began to whirl around us, the inner peace was driven further away. After letting these thoughts fester in my inner being for several years, one night, long after I had gone to bed, I couldn't sleep, as the prospect of eternity was so overwhelming to me. It was at that time I knew that I was not a Christian and out of fear of the consequences, I got out of bed, went down to the living room and crawled onto my Dad's lap and spilled out all of my fear and unhappiness. My Daddy led me to the Lord Jesus that night and I asked Him to come into my life. I confessed to God, that night, that I was a sinner and needed the Savior....and I was forgiven. My heart was cleansed and set free. Oh JOY! for that little nine year old girl, who had struggled so long about being "left behind". I HAD BECOME PART OF THE FAMILY OF GOD!!

He has held me with an everlasting love from that night on, even though I have been rebellious, have been cold in my heart toward Him, have drifted and have grieved His precious Spirit within, many times. However I have never doubted His love for me. (I have certainly doubted my love for Him over the years, but I have always been secure in Him, although I had a period in my life when I believed that God had turned his back upon me.)

stay tuned--there's more

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

What's Happening??


I haven't fallen off the face of the earth, I've just been flat down for the past twelve days with this dastardly back of mine. Today I am feeling improvement and must get back to blogging!

Some time ago, Joanne, at Blessed, challenged us to tell our Spiritual story. I've thought about it a lot--have vacillated back and forth--and have decided to do mine..... in segments.

I had written it out about ten years ago when I was asked to speak to a group of people. I had made a visual to go with the presentation, but rather than use that, I will preface each post with the words I had highlighted in my visual.



So............the next post will be Part I of my spiritual journey. In places it is brutally honest, and I hope I can share these valleys of my life which I've kept pretty close to my heart over the years.