All posts by Kari

So of course I don’t love everything about traveling across the country for 6 weeks, and I want to reflect on these briefly because it’s so easy to think that escaping ordinary life will bring some sort of euphoric experience. And it really has been great. I know we’re right where we’re supposed to be, and we’ve seen God’s hand of kindness on us all along the way. A few reflections:

We’re in an exhausting season of life no matter where we are … and you probably are too.

In some ways, this trip has been exhausting. Toting around two little ones plus two big ones for 10,000 miles is quite the adventure. But honestly–life with littles is exhausting no matter where you are.

At least for me, the jump from 2 kids to 4 kids was a lot. Having teens and toddlers at the same time? Totally awesome and totally exhausting. The bigs want to stay up late with us (which I love, Heidi & Dutch!) and the littles wake up early for us and that means zero free minutes to ourselves. So it’s just an exhausting season. (Side note: As a perspective on how tiring it is to have multiple children, check out this AMAZING story!)

But honestly? Aren’t most people in exhausting seasons of life? While I’m here I keep up with others who I love. My friend whose husband was almost killed in a car accident, and she now cares for him 24-7 as he lost his legs and cannot walk, talk … you get the idea. Talk about exhausting. Or my friend battling cancer with three little ones who spends every day in treatment. Or my other friend whose husband just finished 40 days of cancer treatment. Or my dear friend who has five littles and is covering loads of the work for our church back home so we can be here. Or my other friend who is taking care of her parents as her dad is in his final weeks of life. Or so many of you battling health crises, or just going through the incredibly difficult process of aging. It’s all exhausting.

I was talking to a friend who is in the process of adopting a 4th child. They planned to adopt two. Already at three their lives feel overflowing. Adding a 4th? Seems overwhelming. And yet, we were saying to each other: What else would we rather do with our lives?? Isn’t it WORTH IT?

It is. And yes, I’m hoping to get some naps in during July and August. 😉

It’s hard not having a home.

In 40 days we will be staying in 22 different places. That’s 22 different beds. Twenty-two times figuring out sleeping arrangements. Twenty-two times setting up the pack-n-play and getting Justice settled in and re-calibrating who will get up with which little one and you get the idea.

Switching homes 22 times in 40 days for six people is just really tiring. Just now I laid down for a quick rest during naptime, and my eyes filled with tears as I just found myself longing for home. And then I remembered … we don’t have a home. As you may know we’re living in a trailer, and while it is looking very promising that we’ll be able to build a house (yay!), it’ll likely be another year. I really really miss having a home.

When you’re not in your own home, at least with littles, you’re constantly a little on edge. I’m always afraid they’ll break something, or spill something, or make too much noise. Everything is unfamiliar. Even your body knows the steps around things in your own home. In unfamiliar settings your body is always re-familiarizing yourself with things. And don’t even get me started on figuring out each kitchen! Which knife is the best? Is there a vegetable peeler? Are there plastic dishes because no way am I giving breakable dishes to Ben. The joke with my family has been I’m in a constant state of trying to figure out the stove. Every oven and stove cooks differently and I’m always trying to figure it out. We’ve had a lot of burned food on this trip. 😉

This has made me ache with those who are displaced from their homes. My displacement is voluntary. I want to do this. I can’t imagine how hard it would be for those who are displaced from their homes, especially with littles ones, who don’t know if they’ll ever be able to return. Or who are fleeing in fear. Or in danger. This definitely has fueled my prayers.

Good water is a treasure.

Oh how I miss Oregon water! I’m sure I sound ridiculous but THERE IS NO WAY TO OVERSTATE HOW MUCH I MISS OREGON WATER. I’m so spoiled! I feel like I will do nothing but sit and drink and drink and drink as soon as I get home. I could cry I miss our water so much. Ok, I can’t talk about it anymore, moving on …

Traveling is expensive.

To be clear, we aren’t poor. We are paid generously, and we are so incredibly grateful to be able to own a home, cars, and have the financial freedom to do so many things. No complaints here! But man oh man, it’s hard to be frugal when you’re traveling right now. Gas is expensive, food is expensive, places to stay are expensive. We aren’t even doing amusement parks or other attractions. Angie spent $30 on bug spray in the Everglades just so we wouldn’t get eaten alive. I spent $27 on 9 bottles of Gatorade at the rocket launch so the kids wouldn’t die of dehydration. Crazy! Again, so glad we’re doing it, but I’ll also be happy when we can settle down on our little piece of earth and not in tourist-traps. 😉

Didn’t mean for this to be a complaining session, I really have loved this trip. Especially seeing God’s diverse creation and His wonderful people who are our friends and family. That’s been the best. And now naptime is about over so I’m signing off for some more exploring of Washington DC. Thanks for reading!

As I type these words we’re one-third the way through a 6-week, cross-country family road-trip, crossing 20 states and nearly 9,000 miles.

Our 15-, 13-, 3-, and 1-year-old kids are loving the adventure so far, and it’s brought us some clarity about the mission and vision for our family along the way.

Any type of vacation or excursion is costly, both in time and resources, so how do we decide what’s worth our time and money?

3 ways to make family vacations worthwhile

These are the three priorities we used to plan our course: (Read the rest over at Simple Homeschool…)

Hey friends! As many of you know, every year we share a fun Day-in-the-Life post over at Simple Homeschool. This one had lots of opportunities for grace, forgiveness, and teachable moments. Head on over to Simple Homeschool to read the details. And don’t worry, I don’t usually serve food that’s been on the floor! 😉 LINK: https://simplehomeschool.net/kari2022/

I wanted another happy day. After such a hard month, we’d finally had such a sweet day out in the sunshine, getting dirty gathering debris, Dad and me and kids and neighbors all together. No one had to say anything about the sadness. We knew it was there, and we also knew that it was good to be in the sunshine and it was good to run a chainsaw and it was good to set things on fire and then sit in Adirondack chairs and rest our tired muscles in the warmth. Our conversation ran from heaven and hospice to Dodger baseball and diesel.

The sun shone directly on our faces.

No one was out looking for joy or satisfaction, necessarily. Stuff needed to be burned. It was Saturday and sunny and that’s what you do out here. I toted Ben on my hip and made lunch and stood there breathing the cold, clean winter air, thinking how odd it is to feel so much grief and so much joy all at once.

I think about my mom all the time. I miss her every day. Logically, this perplexes me. She declined for so long, I thought I’d be emotionally prepared to have her gone. It’d been years since she was able to call me on the phone. It’s probably been a decade since she was able to email me. So I don’t understand how the missing can be so overwhelming. I love receiving messages from people who have specific memories of her. I love reading the books that she dog-eared and underlined. I love her hand-writing. I miss her smell.

I guess that’s what it is. I know all the stuff about heaven. I’m grateful for all the reminders about where she is and the hope that we have. I believe it all, I do! I just miss her.

I’m guessing many of you understand this. The constant ache of missing.

And today God reminded me that the relief, the joy, the satisfaction doesn’t come by chasing after it. After that good and happy day I just wanted another good and happy day. And today as we started out working together, splitting wood, the circumstances weren’t the same and I could feel that disappointment well up just a bit in my soul.

How easily I can become embittered!

The clouds were stubborn and the littles were cold so I took them into the house, and began prepping dinner while occupying them. NOT what I wanted to be doing. I wanted sunshine, I wanted to be working in the fresh air. And then I remembered what God had said in Hawaii:

If you look for relief, you won’t find it. If you look for gratitude, you will.

I had been so tired then too. It had felt like an army crawl across the finish line of Easter, when we finally flew away to Maui and I’d anticipated it so much and that first day so many hard things happened I realized I could be in paradise and still be sad. And as I prayed I sensed God ask, “What are you looking for?”

I tried to answer honestly: Well, God, I’m looking for relief.

Just some relief. I’m not asking for ecstasy or luxury or anything excessive. Just relief. But immediately I knew, if I came there looking for relief for myself I wouldn’t find it. Babies still cry in Hawaii. Toddlers still throw tantrums and couples miscommunicate and the whole thing can go sideways rather quickly if I’m in it solely for my own relief.

But if I look for gratitude, I will find relief.

I did. It turned out to be a tremendous trip. Not perfect, but filled with thanks and yes … relief.

Standing there at the counter shredding chicken, I remembered. Gratitude.

And service. How many meals did my mom dish up? How many lunches did she pack? A billion. She served and served and served and served. And had the most contented, joyful spirit.

I shredded the cheese, put Ben down for a nap, read a book to Justice.

The sun started breaking, just a bit, through the clouds.

By mid-afternoon it was full-sun, take-off-your-coat, push-up-your-sleeves weather and Ben woke up happy and as I smelled his sweet baby breath and sat with Justice in the sun I thought, There it is. That joy. It did come. The by-product of thanks-giving and serving. Felt fully and simultaneously with grief.

Missing Mom and being so glad I get to raise her grandchildren and do life with Dad and be her one and only daughter, her DNA woven into every part of me.

Grateful.

I really thought I was ready. They asked if I’d be the Lead for Backstage Team working Heidi’s play, The Rockin’ Tale of Snow White. I had helped backstage once before and really enjoyed it, so I was happy to step up and lead the team.

The week before tech week, I ordered the poster-sized list of scene synopsis for the green room. I made sure the backstage box had the glow-tape for spiking the set. I laid out all my black clothes so I’d have enough clean outfits for the 7 straight days of rehearsals/shows I’d be working. I carefully drew out the scene placements that the director had sketched for me. I even flipped through the script enough to write down the one-line cues that would mark the end of each scene.

I thought I was prepared.

And then, of course, it came time for the show to start and there I stood with the curtain rope in my hand and had no idea what to do. Hilariously, the music started, the actors danced … and I stood there idiotically with the rope in my hand and the curtain still closed.

Of course everyone laughed but I’m sure they’re thinking, “You had one job…” Ha!

Ah yes, I needed a headset. Of course. Ok. So I got a headset, and now I had the show caller calling sound, light, and curtain cues into my left ear along with occasional questions and comments from the crew kids coming from their headsets, while my right ear listened for line cues from the actors.

Ok, so I gotta listen to one thing in one ear, the other thing in the other ear, my face is smothered in mask (I cannot figure out why a mask makes me feel like I can’t hear but it does!) and I realized fairly quickly that maybe it’s my over-40-ears, but from backstage I can’t hear many of the lines.

Ok, it’ll be fine. I turn to check my trusty cue-list taped to the wall and wait … I can’t see it. Because it’s pitch black backstage. No problem, I’ll use my phone light. Left my phone in my purse out in the audience.

I’m in full-blown I-have-no-idea-what-on-earth-I’m-doing mode by now. As the show went on, of course changes were made on the fly:

“Oh, can you strike the stump after the pig dance?”
“Oh, the fire goes on and off after each scene with the evil queen.”
“Oh, the snow needs to fall during the King & Queen scene.”

I look hopelessly at my cue-list. Each scene is numbered. I haven’t the foggiest idea when the pig dances or when what queen is where. It occurs to me, again, that I am an idiot because of course when a play runs there is no one calling out, “Ok this is SCENE TWO, everybody! Got that?! Scene TWO.”

Thankfully, another mom was there, the Prop lead, who knew the story inside and out, and could help me along.

It worked out ok but I’ll tell you what, my anxiety was through the roof! Why?

Because I didn’t really know what was going on. I was always teetering on the brink of failure, never really understanding what was needed where. I felt anxious. Insecure.

And instantly I knew what I had failed to do:

I hadn’t actually read the Script.

In all my preparations, I had only focused on the list of things I was told to do. Sure, I had checked all the boxes.

But I didn’t know the Story.

And because I didn’t know the story, I didn’t really understand how to help. I didn’t understand how things fit together and what was needed when and how I could be ready to provide assistance best.

And in a mind-blowing (to me) revelation, I realized: This is what we feel like if we don’t read the Word of God.

We might go to church and get our bullet-point list: Five Ways to be a Better Spouse. Three ways to be free of anxiety. Etc, etc.

We take notes. We jot it all down. Great. But then we go home and stuff hits the fan and stuff happens that we totally didn’t plan for, and we don’t have a clue how it all fits together and suddenly I’m standing in the dark and there’s talking in one ear and other sounds in the other and I have a vague sense there’s a cue I’m supposed to catch somewhere but I have no idea what it is.

I’m an anxious mess.

Because while it’s fine to have a pastor pull out a few verses here and there, just like with the play, when we’re living life there is no booming announcement from heaven, “And now we’re going to be living out 2 Timothy THREE. Got that?! Second Timothy THREE. That’s the scene we’re at now.”

Anybody?

At least that’s my experience. It’s so tempting to only take in tidy sermons and five-minute devotionals, but if we don’t know the ARC of God’s STORY, we won’t really know what’s going on.

It is a STORY, right? The Bible is a story. It’s not only a list of commandments. It’s a story, and we’re part of it, and the story of Scripture is what MAKES SENSE of what we see in life. When I look around the world I can go, “Ah yes, that makes sense. This is all part of that big arc of God’s story. Man, it’s stressful now, but I remember that end scene that’s coming. It’s going to be good.”

When we don’t have a clear understanding of the ENTIRETY of Scripture, when we don’t know God’s Story, we are so much more prone to anxiety.

Knowing the Script gives me confidence. Gives me peace. I know how the story ends. It enables me to be WAY more helpful. When something unexpected happens, I can step in and help because I know how it’s supposed to go. I can help others who might forget a line or miss a set-change cue.

You know what else? I sure enjoy the play a whole lot more.

You better believe after that first awkward night I came home and read the Script. I’m still way behind everyone else, because I haven’t studied it. I have a very basic understanding of how it goes, but how much MORE equipped are the actors who have spent 10 weeks studying this thing, or the directors who have spent 10 months studying, preparing, and teaching the script.

You see where I’m going with this right?

I do not pretend to know all of God’s ways. He God. Me not. But after 23 times reading Scripture from cover to cover, plus doing innumerable Bible studies and teaching Scripture, I can testify that knowing the story of God gives us PEACE. I DON’T feel like I’m standing in the dark, hopelessly clueless, anxious and afraid. Sure, there will be twists and turns, there will be grief and difficult times, I’m even facing some right now. But knowing the story sure helps everything make a long more sense.

Even when it’s dark, we’ll know what to do.

{Thanks for reading.}

Enter by the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the way is easy that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few.

Matthew 7:13-14

Everything about the Kingdom is upside down. This means that life under the rule of Christ requires a constant reshaping of our hearts and minds, how we reason, what we value, how we make decisions. He says the way to find life is to lose it. He says the way to be rich is to give. He says the best way to overcome evil is with good.

And that the hardest path leads to life.

J. Vernon McGree (1904-1988) writes that a simple way to remember this is that life is a funnel.

The wide way, the way that feels comfortable, easy, spacious, free … actually narrows into restrictions, slavery, death.

The narrow way, the way that looks uncomfortable, limited, hard, constricting … actually widens into joy, abundance, freedom.

We can see this play out in all sorts of ways:

Choose the “narrow” road of self-control, eating carefully, disciplining our bodies through exercise, getting sleep and drinking water — this seems the limited, hard, constricting way. It seems so much “freer” to eat what we want, get up when we want, drink what we want. But how much more freedom and energy and LIFE do we experience when we have health and vitality and mental stability? The narrow way widens into life.

Or choosing the “narrow” way of abstinence before marriage, of following God’s clear plan for sexuality. It seems restrictive, limited, “narrow-minded,” but in the end it brings LIFE and abundance and health. The opposite “freer” way only brings more and more sorrow and disfunction.

It’s true of any addiction. The “freedom” to engage in whatever it is whenever we want however we want only ends in slavery.

The wide way narrows until it’s so tight you are trapped.

The narrow way widens until you find yourself running free.

God is the only Master who makes life better and freer and bigger the longer we go His way.

Of course He doesn’t give us a timeframe. It may feel narrow and hard our whole lives, but by faith we believe it’ll be worth it in the end. Someday, we’ll reach the end of the funnel and find the way so wide we could never have imagined its glory:

No eyes has seen, no ear has heard, no heart has imagined, what God has prepared for those who love Him.

1 Corinthians 2:9

Seeking the narrow path along with you, friends,

Kari

What should our prayer focus be this month?

I asked Jeff this question, my fingers poised on my laptop, waiting for his response. Often, he doesn’t have strong opinions on things, but this time he had a clear answer right away:

Guidance.

Ah, yes. Guidance. We sent out the emailing inviting folks from our church family to gather and seek God together for guidance. And we let people know that if they were facing a situation where they needed God’s guidance, His direction, to let us know and we’d pray for them.

The very next morning, I was struck by the day’s Bible reading:

“Ah, stubborn children,” declares the LORD, who carry out a plan, but not mine, and who make an alliance, but not of my Spirit, that they may add sin to sin; who set out to go down to Egypt, without asking for my direction, to take refuge in the protection of Pharaoh and to seek shelter in the shadow of Egypt! … Woe to those who go down to Egypt for help and rely on horses, who trust in chariots because they are many and in horsemen because they are very strong, but do not look to the Holy One of Israel or consult the LORD! … The Egyptians are man and not God, and their horses are flesh, and not spirit.

—Isaiah 30:1-2, 31:1

In various places in those chapters it repeats again and again, Wait on the LORD. Rather than waiting on Him, they rushed ahead and took refuge in Egypt, making their own plan, trusting in what they could see instead of their God. What a warning!

This resonated deeply with me, as I had already sensed God saying to wait on Him. As I prayed through this, I kept seeing a picture of the Israelites, beside the Red Sea. God deliberately leads them into an impossible place:

“Then the LORD said to Moses, ‘Tell the people of Israel to turn back and encamp in front of Pi-hahiroth, between Migdol and the sea, in front of Baal-zephon; you shall encamp facing it, by the sea”

—Exodus 14:1-2

And in this impossible place, they wait. And we all know the story. Deliverance!

So we all resonate on one level with feeling like we’re stuck, or facing some impossible situation, and we don’t know what to do. So of course it’s easy for us to pray together in agreement!

But then … is it?

As I contemplated us all praying together, I have to admit, I had a bit of trepidation:

How do we all agree in prayer if we don’t all agree in person?

I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there are a few varying perspectives on things these days. 😉 I am grateful that in our church family we have a very diverse mix of perspectives and viewpoints. While it has created a challenging past 18 months, I’m now honestly at a place where I’m grateful. I have learned a lot from people who see things differently.

But prayer can be tricky. It’s intensely personal. I remember nearly a decade ago, a gal left our church because she said our theological disagreement related to healing made it so we couldn’t pray in agreement together. I totally respect her perspective on that, and can understand how she felt. I blessed her as she found another church home.

But right now it seems there are many issues on which faithful believers disagree. At our house church recently, I sort of held my breath as we gathered in prayer, realizing that what some would see as a praise, others might see as terrible news, and vice versa.

And yet … as I sat there and watched I saw a beautiful thing unfold.

Genuine love. Unity. Comeraderie. Spirit-filled, agreement in prayer.

One person’s prayer request, I knew, ran counter to what some others would perceive as good. And yet, the others genuinely empathized, and lifted up heartfelt prayer. And it wasn’t shallow or fake, and also wasn’t what I call “yanking prayer” where we say a prayer but we’re really trying to yank the direction or focus over into what we believe is right. (Jeff jokes that pastors are great at this, “Lord, what my brother really means is that …”)

There was no yanking prayer!

I went to women’s Bible study, same thing — no yanking prayer!

We had our prayer meeting praying for direction — no yanking prayer!

And later, there was a remarkable answer to prayer, that even though one person’s perspective was perhaps different than some others, there was no doubt that God has come through in mighty ways on their behalf, and we can all rejoice over that! God knows the needs of His people!

Maybe what frees us from yanking prayer is the knowledge that God is big enough to handle all this. (FWIW: Certainly there is a place for loving confrontation, challenging people or appealing to them if we think they are in dangerous error or going astray. But group-prayer is not the place to do this.)

Here’s what I noticed: When we pray God’s Word, it’s usually not hard to be in agreement, even if we don’t agree on every current issue. If I’m lifting up a sister, regardless of whether I agree with her or not,

:: I can pray that she will be submitted to Christ in every area of life.

:: I can pray that she will know the truth.

:: I can pray that she will hear God’s voice clearly, and that God will direct her steps.

:: I can pray she will obey the Word of God and find light for her path.

:: I can pray that she will be free from fear and anxiety.

:: I can pray that she will love her neighbor as herself.

:: I can pray for God’s grace to be sufficient in her weakness.

:: I can pray she will be patient and long-suffering.

:: I can pray she will unwavering in her faith.

:: I can pray that God will provide everything she needs for life and godliness.

:: I can pray that she will open her mouth and proclaim to the good news of the gospel.

:: I can pray that as she seeks God’s kingdom first that all the things will be added to her.

:: I can pray for courage, wisdom, clarity.

:: Just as I pray for myself, I can pray she will kept from any error or deception.

:: I can pray she will have strength to resist temptation.

:: I can pray that her mind will be set on what is excellent, virtuous, and praiseworthy.

….I mean we could go on and on, right? When are are truly for people, we really won’t have a hard time thinking of lots and lots and lots and lots of great things to pray for them!

The challenge, at least for me, is when I’m overly devoted to my own perspective, I have a hard time setting it aside long enough to just pray God’s good Word over someone.

But I’m learning. I’m so incredibly grateful for my community where I get to witness godly men and women agree in prayer, even if we don’t agree on every issue. Lord, let your Kingdom come!

Next month I get to co-facilitate the Women’s Ministry Roundtable sessions at the Harbor Network Leaders’ Summit in Louisville, Kentucky. Praying and preparing for this has had me thinking back through the 20 years I’ve been leading women in various ministry roles (Oh to go back and handle some things differently!), and also looking forward and seeking a renewed vision for the small group of precious women I help serve in our local church at Renew. Tonight, we’re gathering for one last summer hurrah around the fire-pit before the rains come and we’re all completely immersed in fall activities.

This summer has been a tremendously healing time for me, especially the last month. During late August, Jeff caught a bad cold, and so he took a Covid test and we all quarantined just to be safe. He tested negative, and he felt better within a few days, but because of the lag-time for testing and results, we ended up quarantining for six days.

It was glorious. No, that’s too weak of a word. It was life-changing. Even though we observe Sabbath every week, this girl needed a weeklong Sabbath and that’s exactly what I got. I actually extended it to 8 days just because I could. 😉

During those 8 days I still had four kids and a husband, I still had meals to cook and a house to clean. But there was time, stillness, hours and hours to sit by the creek, or lie on the couch and read Dune so I could converse with my Dune-obsessed son. Nerd that I am, I indulged in the incredibly satisfying activity of organizing all our books, cleaning closets, inventorying pantries. It was THE BEST.

But during those quiet days God was able to rewire some things in my heart and mind.

Right after that, I read The Visitation. Our son Dutch had been hounding Jeff and me for awhile, “You guys GOTTA read this book. Just read it!” He’d pick it up and put it on my lap if he saw me doing nothing. I had just finished Dune‘s 620 pages and I wasn’t quite ready to pick up the hefty Visitation comin’ in at 519 pages. Who has time for this?

One chapter in I knew exactly why he wanted us to read it. Without spoiling anything, the main character is a 45-year old pastor who quit the ministry because of all the heartache and pain he experienced. I would read and re-read paragraphs thinking, “That’s exactly how I feel.” The book explores some of the ways we inadvertently put expectations on God, how we mis-direct our hope, how we get so caught up in the “stuff” of church that we miss the goodness of God. It’s so, so good.

What does this have to do with vision for women’s ministry?

In The Visitation, part of the healing process for the pastor was when someone prompted him, “Give me some names.” He’s confused, asks for clarification, and the friend says, “Who are some of the people you’ve seen God work in and through.” He begins telling stories. Nothing spectacular. But they are evidences of grace. You can clearly see the goodness and power and mercy of God has he recounts simple stories of ordinary people.

Not events. Not spectacular experiences. Not “success.”

Through people. Like, ones with names.

Also this summer, I stumbled upon a tiny book (hooray for SHORT books) coming in at less than 100 pages. Eugene Peterson’s The Wisdom of Each Other. Wow. So, so good. And that is where the vision became clear, where all the loose ends of this year wove together to make a picture of what God invites us into as his children:

Friends.

My grand vision for women’s ministry in 2021: That we would be FRIENDS.

“No longer do I call you servants … but I have called you friends.”

-Jesus (John 15:15)

Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.

-Jesus (John 15:13)

Friends of God. Friends of each other.

That’s my vision. That’s my hope. In Peterson’s book, he highlights the importance of these spiritual friendships:

I was in a conversation recently with a group of friends and mentioned a chance encounter with an odd stranger in which I thought I had heard echoes of the Gospel. It had moved me deeply. One of my friends interrupted, “That sounds good, but I’d like a text for it. Where does the Bible actually say that?” I couldn’t come up with a text on the spot. Conversation stopped. A prayerful conversation was trashed because I was not conducting my part in it with the documentation proper to a Bible study leader.

This happens a lot. And so an entire world of “counsel” between friends is eliminated. Spiritual counsel, easy prayerful conversation between companions engaged in a common task, is less and less frequent. But when Jesus designated his disciples “friends” in that last extended conversation he had with them, he introduced a term that encouraged the continuing of the conversation. “Friend” sets us in a nonhierarchical, open, informal, spontaneous company of Jesus-friends, who verbally develop relationships of responsibility and intimacy by means of conversation. Characteristically, we do not make pronouncements to one another or look up texts by which to challenge one another; we simply talk out whatever feelings or thoughts are in our hearts as Jesus’ friends.

Often today we speak of wanting to see a Spiritual Director, or be Discipled in a formal setting. But as I’ve written about before, the most impactful kind of discipleship or spiritual-direction relationship I have ever experienced was with a women who insisted that we simply be “friends.”

Peterson’s book takes the form of a series of letters between friends. As he responds to his friend, he writes:

You seem disappointed that I am not more responsive to your interest in “spiritual direction.” Actually, I am more than a little ambivalent about the term, particularly in the ways it is being used so loosely without any sense or knowledge of the church’s traditions in these matters.

If by spiritual direction you mean the entering into a friendship with another person in which an awareness and responsiveness to God’s Spirit in the everydayness of your life is cultivated, fine. But then why haul in an awkward term like “spiritual direction”? Why not just “friend”?

Spiritual direction strikes me as pretentious in these circumstances, as if there were some expertise that can be acquired more or less on its own and then dispensed on demand.

The other reason for my lack of enthusiasm is my well-founded fear of professionalism in any and all matters of the Christian life….

Instead, why don’t you look over the congregation on Sundays and pick someone who appears to be mature and congenial. Ask her or him if you can meet together every month or so–you feel the need to talk about your life in the company of someone who believes that Jesus is present and active in everything you are doing. Reassure the person that he or she doesn’t have to say anything “wise.” You only want them to be there for you to listen and be prayerful in the listening. …

I’ve had a number of men and women who have served me this way over the years … when I moved to Canada a few years ago and had to leave a long-term relationship of this sort, I looked around for someone whom I could be with in this way. I picked a man whom I knew to be a person of integrity and prayer, with seasoned Christian wisdom in his bones. I anticipated he would disqualify himself so I pre-composed my rebuttal: “All I want you to do is two things: show up and shut up. Can you do that? Meet with me every six weeks or so, and just be there–an honest, prayerful presence with no responsibility to be anything other than what you have become in your obedient lifetime.” And it worked. If that is what you mean by “spiritual director,” okay. But I still prefer “friend.”

You can see now from my comments that my gut feeling is that the most mature and reliable Christian guidance and understanding comes out of the most immediate and local settings. The ordinary way. We have to break this cultural habit of sending out for an expert every time we feel we need some assistance. Wisdom is not a matter of expertise.”

I honestly believe that what this world needs most is simple and twofold: Friendship with God, and friendship with each other. First and foremost, we need to be reconciled with our Creator-Savior and enter into a living, abiding friendship with Him. And then, we need friendship with each other. That’s my prayer for this year.