Margie Theiss

The retreat study was entitled “Insider/Outsider”. Could the subject be more inclusive? Is there anyone that has not felt like one or the other during their lifetime?

The talks were based on the Biblical book of Ruth in the Old Testament. The insider is Naomi, the outsider, her daughter-in-law, Ruth.

This book has continually fascinated me. Most likely it’s because the two main characters are women. And then there is the fact that I read this story when I first became a Christian and I truly admired the male character, so much so that I wanted to name our second son after him, Boaz. That son is thankful that my husband overruled me. I satisfied my urge by naming our next dog Boaz.

Nevertheless, instead of just listening to a good story, I began writing application questions for the intended lesson – to reach out to others, and I added in my mind, especially those who are marginalized. Later I added to that list those who are brokenhearted, captive to sin, imprisoned by poverty, mourning a loss or oppressed. (Isaiah 61:1-3)

Have you ever felt like an outsider of a family, group or culture? Look around you. Can you identify those who may feel like outsiders in your school, workplace or church? How can we welcome those from the outside into our spaces?

Reaching out into the unknown can be scary. Believe me, I know scary. By my human nature I’m a loner. I was raised that way. During the 10 years that I lived with my parents, I can count on my one hand how many times they invited a person into our home, that’s including relatives. But when I became a Christian; I learned that reaching out to others was on God’s agenda for those He calls to Himself. So, like any new fanatic, I went overboard.

My husband’s work as a forester caused our family to move often and when we did we would search in the new area for a church that was biblically sound and had a good kid’s program. When we would find one that met our criteria, after attending a few months, we would join it. But, one such time, I began hearing the complaint from seekers who visited that the members were unfriendly. So I thought of a plan to counter that and suggested it to my husband. “Why don’t we invite a different family each week to come for lunch after the Sunday service?” He was silent and then said, “If you do that, I’ll stop going to church.” And he walked off in a manner that I knew signaled that this matter was not to be discussed further.

I was completely surprised because my husband was a friendly person, often striking up conversations with people he did not know wherever he was. I giggle now because, as years passed, he was the one who invited people over before discussing it with me. And, when we put on an addition to our home, he added a pantry so that I wouldn’t be caught off guard without food for unexpected guests. Obviously, the obstacle to my plan had been overcome with God’s help and the passage of time.

As I look back, I realize that reaching out was what God wanted done but I had not consulted Him on how He wanted it done. He knew that time was needed to do His work in our family.

Will you share what has been your experience as an outsider or insider and what has or hasn’t worked in your attempts at reaching out? We all need suggestions, encouragement and God’s plan and power to get the job done in our culture of isolation.

In the title, I have reversed the words in a common phrase. It is intentional. As Mothers’ Day approaches a lot of women (and perhaps men also) load their hearts with negative emotions and lock them into place. I know I did until years after my mother’s death.

It always took me a long time in the card aisle to find a card to attach to a present for her. The cards were too sappy and I knew that no matter what I bought her, it would not be acknowledged. Instead I would endlessly hear what extravagant gift my cousin gave her. Once I asked my mother if she had received my gift. She said,”Oh, yes,” and continued what she had been saying.

Going through her things after her death, I found my gifts still in boxes stacked in a corner of a closet. The last time that I saw her she was in a convalescent hospital bed. As I reached the door to leave, she called my name and I turned to look at her. She said,”I love you.” I smiled and thought, “Do you even know what love means?” Then I left.

At this point, some would think, “How could you have been so callous?” Well, after every interaction with my mother, I would search my soul but end up telling God, “You must know that I can’t act differently after all she has done to me.”

It took years to heal from the anger against my mother. Then one day I was ready to confess to God, “I could have acted lovingly towards my mother if I had drawn on Your strength to do it. But I didn’t want to. It was my way of punishing her.” I’m sorry that I let God down. I missed opportunities to show my mother the true nature of God.

So why am I sharing this with you now? One day this week I watched as a female bird teaching a fledgling to fly. The mature bird flew into the glass of my sliding door and fell to the deck. The chick looked on from a deck railing, peeped and nodded its head from side to side, finally flying down to the injured bird and nudging it gently with its beak and then flying back to the railing. It became obvious to me the downed bird was dying and a scrub jay was on a railing ready to pounce on it, so I rushed to get a dust pan, scooped up the dying bird and took it to the garage to die in peace. On my way there I thought, “She never got a chance to teach her little bird to fly.”

As I go to church tomorrow, on Mothers’ Day, I’m praying that the sermon will emphasize what a privilege it is to have a part in launching a child into the world and that it will be congratulatory of those who do. I thank God for that chance but I know that I could not have done it without Him.

My last post was a recounting of surviving the October 2017 fires of Sonoma County, California, by Bob Carlson . This post is from the perspective of his wife, Gretchen. Her focus is mainly what led up to the fire and what happened after. They are now ensconced in a newer, beautiful home on the Mendocino County Coast.

Gretchen was the only child of her parents and ended up being the historian and custodian of her family. Gretchen says that before the fire she did not want to get rid of anything from the past. She loved and enjoyed it all. There was furniture, dolls, dishes, sewing machines, quilts, afghans, books, pictures, letters, etc.  Most items had hand written notes taped or pinned to them explaining why they were special.

Shortly before the fire Gretchen began to look at these items differently. She saw them as a potential burden, not to her, but to her two children after her death. She was getting ready to tell her daughter to sell it all.

But when the kids had indicated that they liked something, she had given it to them. So they had what they wanted. Gretchen realized that she had handled and used all the items so many times that she had firmly planted them in her mind and she could visit their memory at any time. And, in case of a fire, she had packed a special box with family history and details. The Carlsons brought this box out of the fire with them.

Gretchen said that God took care of any concern that she may have had for her items. She now refers to them as, “so much stuff”. All burned in the fire or were smashed by the collapse of the heavy tile roof. The exceptions were a round yellow water pitcher from her mother, an old iron bank and a big, iron pry bar from her father, one serving plate of a twelve place setting of Haviland china and an old, sad iron from her great grandmother and three small items from Gretchen’s childhood. Most of these are on display on a small table in her newer home but there is a small, blue and white bowl from her grandmother that is in the middle of the dining room table with a plant in it. That’s all that was gleaned from the fire.

But Gretchen views the loss as a positive. She said, “After God gave us this house (the newer one on the coast), I realized my family, whose precious things I faithfully looked after and greatly enjoyed, would have been okay knowing that their things had a part in giving us the insurance money to be able to have this lovely home.” Unlike many other fire victims, the Carlsons report that their insurance company was easy to deal with and prompt.

Three months after the fire, the Carlsons decided not to rebuild. They knew that they wanted outdoor space around their home. But the prices anywhere near the fire were high for so little. They searched North. Nothing. On a suggestion from Bob, they checked out the coast. The fifth house that they looked through was the one. They knew it immediately! They had been on the hunt for only two weeks.

The house incorporates many things that they have always wanted, like the wrap around porch that Bob loves. Inside, Gretchen is enamored with all the angles and high ceilings. The two acres always has something for them to do. There are plenty of trees and planned and wild garden areas. There is a big wood stove for heat and they are close to the ocean and share a private beach.

When Gretchen looks back to the fire she focuses on God’s provisions through it all. That helps her not stress the every day difficulties that we all have. She says, “We are doing something new and not trying to recreate the past and, most certainly, living with much less.” Not bad goals for an octogenarian and a mate that is just a few years younger.

It was a year ago that my friends, Bob and Gretchen Carlson, escaped from the fire storm that ravaged northern California. A week after getting out, Bob sat down and wrote of the experience. Each time that I read through what he penned, I marvel that they survived the four hour, death defying trip. Following is Bob’s recollection of what happened.

“About 9:30 pm., the power went out and came back on , which put Gretchen on high alert, checking the wind and smelling the air. Again, the power went off and then on. At 11:00, we received a robo call that recommended that we leave our home. This alarmed Gretchen but I thought evacuating was being overly cautious so I went to bed.

Fortunately, Gretchen stayed up and continued to monitor the smoke and wind direction while listening to Cal. Fire Dispatch and gathering up some things. At 11:45, when Gretchen heard the mention of our street name, “…Michele Way Bus Stop…,” she woke me and told me to get dressed and pack a bag.

While Gretchen was putting things in the car and yelling for me to hurry, I, only half awake, grabbed a couple of changes of clothes and my shaving kit. We could hear transformers and butane tanks exploding far away . The power went out at 1 am. It was clear that it was final.

We made our way out to the car. It was decided that Gretchen would drive and I would be in the back seat holding our very scared dog, Libby. Once out of the garage, Gretchen could see and hear everything. The wind was horrible and the smoke thick. Large limbs were blowing out of one of our fir trees. Gretchen thought that we should close the garage door so I jumped out to close it. Once inside, I pulled the release cord because there was no power. Before I could get out, the wind caught the door and slammed it down. It was pitch black and the door was too heavy to pull up. So I felt my way to the back door of the garage and exited through it. It took me awhile to get to the driveway and when I did Gretchen was yelling, “ Get in the car, RIGHT NOW.” Gretchen became even more irritated when I took the time to throw aside a large limb that had fallen across the hood of the car. After that, I did jump into the back seat with the dog and we took off.

At the end of the driveway we hit extremely heavy, low lying smoke and the road was covered with gray ash, making it impossible to see the edges. We were facing straight into the wind. Glowing cinders were flying through the air, hitting the windshield and bouncing off. When Gretchen complained that she couldn’t see, all I could calmly say was, “Just do the best you can.” This was unusual for me, being the vocal director of all marital projects.

Gretchen did a great job navigating up the street until we got to the top of the hill. Due to poor visibility, she turned into the last driveway on our street, missing a large oak tree to the left. She backed out and made a second try but this time she almost hit the tree. She backed out again and this time she managed to get around the tree.

We noticed one of our neighbors parked with lights on, not making an attempt to move. We wondered, “Why?” As we inched forward, we saw what we couldn’t see before. The house, at the corner of our street and the main road out, and two big fir trees on either side of the road were completely engulfed in flames, rising high into the air. Gretchen asked, “What should I do? I said, “Drive. Don’t stop, drive.”

Now driving with the wind, not against it, we managed to get through the inferno. We seemed to be the only car on the road. Cinders were flying all around us and the wind was howling. We proceeded down the hill and were stopped at the next intersection by a highway patrolman who was directing traffic coming in from the side roads. We got behind a very cautious driver who almost stopped in front of us. We couldn’t see beyond him so we didn’t use the horn. Finally a highway patrol car arrived and its driver yelled at the man to get going so we were able to proceed to our son’s house, arriving at 1:30 am. That is where we are now and will likely remain until we relocate.”

Watch for the post of this couple’s continuing story, from Gretchen’s perspective.

Since my husband’s death I have been dealing with anxiety. I have had two, what I call, anxiety attacks. They took me by surprise. I didn’t know what was causing the physical reaction of fear and nausea nor what to do about it. I sat and prayed until the panic passed. I began this blog about anxiety in May. Now, here I am in September, trying to finish it.

Though the attacks are gone, I often awake in the morning with an uneasy feeling. This is especially disturbing because, when I became a Christian at 27, God freed me from a life of turmoil. Since then I’ve treasured being at peace. My solution is to get up and get busy. I brought up the topic with the doctor at my yearly physical exam. He told me to take a sleeping pill at bed time. That didn’t work. It only made me drowsy the next day.

I think that my delay in writing about anxiety was caused by not wanting anyone to take it as a solution but only as a relate-table report of what was happening to me.

Since May, I’ve watched celebrities, during TV interviews, admit that they have a problem with anxiety. And, in the past few months, I’ve heard pastors acknowledge from the pulpit that they have the same problem. None of these individuals were older persons. And from what I have been reading, anxiety is a greater problem in the elderly (the group to which I reluctantly belong) than depression. So I figure it’s time to begin a discussion. But I first want to encourage you to do an internet search on “anxiety and the elderly”. All of us are faced with the possibility of joining this group, plus we may know an older person who is in the midst of this problem.

“Senior Health 365.com “ contributes the following. “Anxiety is essentially a feeling of worry and nervousness. It is only a problem if it persists for long periods of time despite there being no clear cause of worry, or if it recurs continuously even about everyday activities and events…. When this starts occurring then it is a clear indication that the anxiety is out of control and a part of a disorder – generalized anxiety disorder (GAD).”

Lately I wake up nervous between three and four in the morning, quickly get up and get busy so that anxiety doesn’t overtake me. My primary care doctor is retiring and I’m in the process of finding a new one. In the meantime, I’m trusting the Great Physician to care for and/or heal me. If He directs me to a physician, that’s fine. I’m not adverse to counseling, medication or both.

While waiting, Philippians 4:6-9 has been my constant companion. As I ponder these verses, one word causes me to stumble, “supplication” What does it mean? The dictionary provides a definition – to come humbly and earnestly to God in prayer. But the verses include both “prayer” and “supplication” so they must not be the same.

I believe that God delights in our casual communication with Him throughout our day; but at times the Holy Spirit calls us to a more formal and intense prayer – supplication.. How do you view and practice the difference between prayer and supplication?

A few days before Thanksgiving, my physical therapist asked, “ For what are you thankful?” I replied, “Honestly, at this point in time, not much.” My husband had died four days after Thanksgiving last year and I was trying not to focus on his death.

The next day I regretted my words; so, standing in the kitchen, I reluctantly began a list. God, family and friends, my dog Jaz and …. what I consider the ideal stove top, which came with the newer home. I gave up and went into the office to listen to a sermon from Santa Barbara Community Church on my i Pad. It was from the book of Galatians; and well into the sermon, Genesis 15:1 was given as a reference. I looked it up in my Bible.

Next to it I had written two notes, “God gave me this verse 11/24/16,” and “Len (my husband) died 11/28/16.” I had underlined, “Do not be afraid,… I am your shield, your exceedingly great reward.”

Len and I had decided that we needed to downsize and so we had put on the market the home that we had lived in for 30 years. Like Abram, the one to whom God was speaking, we didn’t know where we were going and we were relying completely on God to direct us.

After Len died I clung to that verse for support. It took nine months to find a buyer for our older home and move into a newer one. Somewhere in the process of moving, handling finances, adjusting to new house mates (our daughter and her two boys) and a new town, I let go of that verse. And then in 2017, facing a thankless Thanksgiving, God needed to remind me that He was still my shield and exceedingly great reward. I added a word to my skimpy, thankful list, ‘personal’. My God is a personal God.

It has been a year since my husband’s unexpected death and I think that the shock of it is starting to dissipate, in part due to the Bible study of JONAH, Navigating a Life Interrupted by Priscilla Shirer.

The Bible book of Jonah and I have a history. Because of my husband’s work our family had moved from the Santa Cruz area of California to Eureka, California. I was anticipating filling my hours with what I had been doing, being the teaching leader of a lay bible study (BSF).

Before the move I had been told by the BSF Area Advisor that the Teaching Leader (TL) of the Eureka class needed to retire and that I was to take over her position. I understood that the present TL was to make the initial contact and take the lead in the transition.

When we “accidentally” * met in the bathroom of her church, she invited me into leadership as her assistant. After a few months in that position and nothing being said about retirement, I was feeling uncomfortable. At that point in my life, it was hard for me to stifle what I was trained to do. So I determined to leave BSF at the close of the study year.

After a small group fellowship in my home, which the TL attended, she and I were standing in front of the dining room window admiring the back yard. Perfect setting! I told her of my planned departure. She was aghast! “No you can’t do that. I was going to ask you to give the weekly lecture so that I could take care of some personal matters and, after a few weeks, retire.“

I gave her my reasons for leaving and we discussed them. I did agree to do the lecture but did not change my mind about leaving. She ended the conversation with, “Will you at least pray about it?” ** As I saw her to the door, she said, “By the way, you’ll be teaching on the Book of Jonah.”

But a few days before the lecture the TL said, “My appointment was canceled so I’ll give the lecture.” As I sat under her teaching, I was still asking God, “Why did you have me prepare and then have her give the lecture? “ When she came to Jonah 3:1, she read, ”Now the word of the Lord came to Jonah the second time… (she added) and it had not changed.”

What flashed through my mind were the verses that God impressed on me when I was first called into the ministry of teaching the Bible, John 21:15-17. After the lecture on Jonah I told the TL that I would be happy to feed His sheep. Twenty-five years later, God is again using Jonah to guide me.

Now, my daughter and her boys are living with me and she is hosting the weekly Bible study with the book that I mentioned at the beginning of this post. As I picked up the extra books left from the first meeting, I was drawn to a portion of the title, “… an interrupted life”. That certainly could describe mine, so I decided to do the study on my own.

I was on the last chapter when the fires came to where I now live, Sonoma County, California. I learned that a friend had lost everything in the fire, so after she shared her experience with me, I asked if she wanted to do the Jonah study. Her life certainly had been interrupted. She had done the study before but, as she said, “I’m in a different place now.”

Where do we, my friend and I, go or what do we do from here? It’s a mystery … a great adventure, so I’m told. But we are sure that God will be using Jonah to guide us. We’ll keep you posted.

*Many times, what may seem like an accident is, in reality, God at work.

**That request, if followed through on, will be the death of any self-determination.

By now most of you know that Len, my husband of 56 years, died on November 28^th from a heart attack. We were in the process of downsizing, selling our home and looking for another to buy. I’m still in that process, but it has been modified. Instead of searching for accommodations for two I’m now searching for a place for four. My daughter and her two sons will be living with me.

It has taken three months to deal with legal matters and finalize survivor benefits. I never gave much thought to having to do this. My idea was to go first. One thing that has been meaningful to me during this time are notes that I received in which the senders tell of a memory of their relationship with Len. These give a fuller picture of him. So I thought I would share how we have known the senders and what their thoughts were.

From Kelley Labus- wife, mother & school psychologist

“What a giant of a man Len was and what an important influence on us early in our marriage. I have such special memories of going to your house for dinner and doing the Experiencing God bible study. When Curt (her husband) first worked at juvenile hall, Len discipled him because Curtis worked weekends and couldn’t get to church. He (Len) was generous, hearty and loving.”

From Betty Shelton – member of Life Group, older people who meet after the Sunday service to discuss the sermon

“Listening to Len speak in Life Group was always a blessing. Appreciated him so much.”

From Mike Neal – dentist, neighbor

He was a wonderful man. We loved his smile and gentle demeanor. I had a tremendous respect for him. I feel like I lost a wise and wonderful influence in my life.”

From Michele Neal – wife, homemaker and supplier of projects for Len

“Len will always have a special place in my heart. He was always so kind to my father. I loved his presence in this neighborhood. He was a very sweet man. We will profoundly miss him.”

Beth Bermudes- widow, before her husband’s death, the four of us traveled together

“Last night I sealed up my card to you and this morning I awoke with a flood of memories of the four of us, Ashland, the Oregon coast, Seattle and much, much more. Christmas 2012, Len invited Richard to make Springerle with him. Richard was so excited that he could hardly contain himself. He couldn’t believe that you just had a small mixer and he planned to take the Kitchen Aide with him the next time that he made Springerle with Len. By Christmas 2013, we were on a different page…”

Richard was diagnosed and died of cancer. Len died before he could make Springerle for this last Christmas. But his 13 year old grandson, Tallen, wanted to carry on the tradition and so he made it with his aunt Tess and with his father, Tad, supervising.

A few weeks ago I attended a Priscilla Shirer simulcast at a church in a neighboring town. At one point during the day she had everyone write a prayer request on a provided card. We were asked to put them in buckets on the stage in the front of the sanctuary. After we turned them in she told us that we were to pick up one or two as we left at the end of the day and pray for those requests during the next week.

I wrote on my card. ”In all that I do, say or think I want to immediately seek Your perspective.” I visualized that I would quickly and mentally run to God’s throne room, get His take on my situation and deal with it appropriately. Whoever had my request must have prayed because God provided me with His perspective of a volatile interchange. But it came a few days later. My prayer warrior needed to pray harder.

I had felt offended by a person and immediately reacted with “my” perspective. An apology was made and I shot back with, “ Do you think that your words have any meaning to me. You do this over and over.” So much for running to the throne room!

It wasn’t until a few days later, as I did my Bible study, that God gave me His perspective on “my” thoughts and words. I think that He probably got tired of waiting for me to come to Him about my outrage. He used John 13:34 and I John 1:9 to speak to me.

“The words of Christ in the middle of the first verse, “… love one another as I have loved you,” convicted me of not patiently loving the offending individual in the same way that Christ demonstrates His love towards me.

The individual had apologized but I was upset that the offense was repetitive. When the heat of the incident dissipated, I had to admit that I was treating the offense as sinful rather than what it was, insensitive. Looking up I John 1:9, I pounced on the phrase, “…confess our sins,” . The tense of the word “confess” means to confess each time sin occurs. God, knowing man’s nature, expects repetitive sinning. I do not, although I make an exception for myself.

God’s perspective of the incident was that I treated a thoughtless act against me as sin. The sin was mine, in not loving as Christ loves me.

I also take away from this experience that we need to help each other get rid of repetitive thoughtlessness and sin. We need to recognize these in our own lives and then develop a plan with God to root them out.

It is natural, not spiritual, to see repetitive, negative actions in others. If we do nothing, thoughts of these will fester and then lead to consequences – a blow-up, anger, depression, etc. To prevent this we first talk to God about them and allow Him to give us His perspective. If that does not handle the problem, He may want us to step in to graciously be a change agent; but before we do this, it’s best to study Galatians 6:1.

Do your thoughts, words and actions line up with God’s perspective of situations? It’s my prayer that yours are more closely aligned than mine were. Let’s keep working on being pure and blameless. We might as well accept that the task will be never ending until Christ returns or we go to be with Him.

“Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in Your sight, O Lord, my strength and Redeemer.” (Psalm 19:14)

When our first child went away to college, I prayed and vowed not to pester him about finding a Bible oriented Christian church at which to worship. A few months went by before he mentioned that he had been attending one. Whew, what a relief!

Our three kids are now in their fifties. They all completed their college education and are still standing strong in their Christian faith. But, a few years ago, I began praying for the college years of our six grand children. I have been told that there is much on campuses that would threaten their religious upbringing. Could one threat be the teacher /student relationship which has developed over many years of schooling? When away from home and the influence of parents, do they use this pattern when trying to grow their own personal relationship with God? Well, if so, it won’t work.

A college student signs up for a class to be taught about a subject by an instructor for a quarter or a semester. But once persons believe in Christ, they are yoked to Him, not for a limited time but forever. Being bound in this way means that one can take time getting to know Christ and His work for each individual, His Word – the Bible – and His ways. A student will discover that He is gentle and lowly in heart which leads to rest. (Matthew 11:29)

This instructor is not an adversary but a friend. There is no confining classroom. The instructor teaches as one walks through the world with Him. The course subject is the instructor. He is fascinating in His complexity. The learning is life long and is to be done in a leisurely fashion. No cramming. There is no shame in not understanding what is being taught. Questions are permitted and expected. The sessions are one-on-one. Lesson plans are unique for every individual. The instructor has chosen the student, not the other way around. There are tests, but one will not be graded or have to consider pass or fail. There are do-overs.

Developing relationships at college is important to students. They don’t approach it like taking a course of study from an instructor. Developing a relationship with God is different than both but so important to do either well.

Ponder, pray and make sure that the college students that you know understand that a relationship with God is different than all others.