While making due with our home at camp (on wheels), we decided that a nice outdoor living space would be fun. With the purchase of a new sweet action grill & some sod in place of a dirt pile things are looking good!!!

I own a 1997 Mitsubishi Mirage Coupe and it has white paint underneath the brown speckled dirt stains from days gone by. It belonged to wife’s (Sarah) late brother Patrick before his passing on March 14, 2003. The car itself isn’t much. It fits the age-old description of a means to an end (think: “point A to point B�). That was until I started driving it on the freeway with much more frequency.

(here’s my “theres-no-way-you’ll-get-to-know-me-by-this-intro-but-I’ll-try-anyway� intoduction): Brian Pendergast. Follower of Jesus. Husband to Sarah (4+ years). Father to Koen (10 mo.). Pastor to Students (Kent Cov Church). Grad school student (hence the freeway driving of late)…oh and yes, friend to Josh and Lydia.

So back to my freeway driving. My little white car enjoys the freeway for the most part. But for some reason, when I get the urge to travel between 63-75 miles per hour, the car shakes. And it’s most noticeable while holding the steering wheel. I used to be fine with this mild form of vehicle abuse, but things have since changed.

You see, as I said before, my car isn’t much. It has no hubcaps, no power windows, the seats are ripped, and it doesn’t smell like roses. And as much as I like the idea of having a car that everyone looks at and envies like a green monster, it’s the inside that matters to me. The inside-inside. If your shopping cart runs into my door, hey, it’s no biggie. If you break my rear-view mirror, no sweat, who uses those anyway? But the heart and soul (and movement and true beauty) of my car is the engine. From a Car Guy’s perspective even the engine isn’t much, but from the owner’s (or borrower’s) perspective it’s the livelihood of transportation.

Patrick was the same way. He didn’t ooze beauty like a brand new BMW, he wasn’t naturally envied by our world. But he had (and has) a heart of gold. His is a beauty that our world needs more of. We all have torn seats in our lives, we’re all missing some hubcaps, and we all definitely have some smells that can’t be described with verbal words, but only by body language. But it’s interesting that we choose to take care of those abnormalities first and foremost. We miss the point: how are we being kind to our heart? How are we being kind to the hearts of others?

For those of you looking for the overtly spiritual “point� of this, here’s a Bible verse from the Message to look up (I Peter 2:2). But hopefully we can realize that anything involving the heart in utterly spiritual. Anything involving our “engine� is a picture of God (made in His image). Patrick was very spiritual. He knew that kindness of heart mattered.

I wonder if we underestimate the power of kindness. Or we pervert its power by dishing out kindness to others like we’re some sort of soup kitchen for the homeless and forget to show kindness to ourselves. We forget to set up boundaries. We think that “turn the other cheek� means “treat yourself like crap.�

Or maybe we’re really good at being kind to ourselves, but we haven’t figured out that there actually is a world out there: a world of evil, a world where people are hungry, a world with death, a world where little girls are forced into prostitution. Is kindness the answer? I don’t know. But I wonder if kindness to others and kindness to self will lead us toward true compassion. And I wonder if true compassion will lead us toward the reconciliation and restoration of the Kingdom of God. The Kingdom that is both “here and now� and “yet to come.�

As I write this, I’m thinking about my freeway driving. I mostly drive 62 miles per hour when on the freeway nowadays. It’s a small chance for me to show kindness to Patrick and kindness to his car. And it’s a reminder of how essential it is for me to show kindness to my own heart. Yeah, it’s not much. But it’s a start.

Soooo…. Today at work I rode around on a forklift taking pictures of some of the facilities here! It was a pretty crazy experence getting up 25-30 feet high to get “the perfect shot”.

Props to Rob who didn’t kill me.

Obedience

Hello! I’m Hannah, and I’ve been blessed to have had Lydia and Josh in my life (as friends, fellow students at Trinity Western University and roommates with Lydia, and as co-workers at Cascades Camp and Conference Center in Yelm, Washington) for over 17 years now. I currently reside in Auburn, Washington, and am pursuing a career in the communications field.

My name’s Hannah, and I am a Northslope blogger. I’ve been reading the ‘slope for over a year now. I eagerly downloaded every Edge. I have an e-mail address at northslope.net. In other words, when Josh asked me if I was interested in writing a devotional for the site, I happily accepted. And one of the first subjects that came to mind was the idea of patience, which Neil beat me to last week. Yet the amazing, complex beauty of the lessons and spiritual fruits that God is teaching us as Christians is that one often leads to another. Working out patience, for example, in where God is leading us and how we get there usually requires a healthy dose of something else, too. And spiritual fruit, like so much in life that’s truly worthwhile, rarely comes easily or quickly. It reminds me of an evening years ago at youth group when Bert, our youth intern at the time, stuck a marshmallow and then a potato in a microwave. The marshmallow exploded, much to our joy, in a matter of seconds. But the potato didn’t. Ever. In hindsight, I’m impressed at the great visual lesson; at the time, I just wanted to see him try it with a Peep marshmallow bunny. Thankfully, the principle of it all stuck with me. Much like a muscle or talent developed over time and through perseverance, it is the practice of obedience that leads us to strength and patience — and in turn faith in our Holy Guide — when we face the intense and trying pressures of life. And just as the spiritual muscle of patience and faith is strengthened and conditioned, not in a single moment or through a quick study, but through a lifetime of obedience, so it will not give out in the times of trials. It is the simple act of obedience itself that brings us closer to being the creatures God designed us to be. It is an act of denying ourselves and giving back our will, the self-indulgence Adam grasped at in Eden. It is a decision to do what He asks of us, whatever the outcome. It is putting our lives fully and without reservation into God’s hands. Obedience is, undeniably, an act of worship.

“…but in addition to the content [of the action], the mere obeying is also intrinsically good, for, in obeying, a rational creature consciously enacts its creaturely role, reverses the act by which we fell, treads Adam’s dance backwards, and returns.�
– C.S. Lewis, “The Problem of Painâ€?

Obedience, in the face of certainty and uncertainty alike, is what shapes us over time into the trusting, faithful children God desires us to be. As I work through this lesson in my life, in the midst of job-hunting and discerning God’s will in the next step of this journey He has given me, my prayer is that we all are able to remember that our benevolent Father asks us simply to love and obey Him. In the hectic, ever-shifting nature of life, it is a wonderful source of peace to remember the simplicity at the heart of God’s message for living a disciple’s life.

“Dear friends…we have confidence before God and receive from Him anything we ask, because we obey His commands and do what pleases Him. And this is His command: to believe in the name of His Son, Jesus Christ and to love one another as He commands us. Those who obey His commands live in Him, and He in them. And this is how we know that He lives in us: we know it by the Spirit He gave us.�
– 1 John 3:21-24

My aunt & cousin, Karen & Loren Bronczyk came out to Camp for a few hours the other day. From Anchorage, they had just spent some time visiting North Park in Chicago and were spending a week in the Seattle area before heading back up to the great state of Alaska. It was fun to show them around camp (Loren was a camper here with me, but its been a LONG time since his last visit to this amazing property).

Patience, Patience, Patience

Hello NorthSlope blog readers! This is Neil. I got to know Josh and Lydia during
their time in Nome while we were volunteers at KICY. We had great fun rotissering
chickens, four-wheeling and the like. Now I’m back home in Iowa where we are in
the midst of harvest. Well, actually, we’re done but there’s still work to do.
After harvest I’m going overseas whenever I get my fundraising done.

It’s true that I had this idea to share testimonies/devotionals here on NorthSlope and thought if Josh would ask me to write I’d write about the benefit of encouraging fellow believers. But I felt the Spirit working in a different way, so today I’m going to write about being patient and trusting in God.

I’ll start with a word picture. We’ve been having a pretty good harvest here, the yields are good, weather is nice, and the equipment is working for the most part. When we pick corn my dad runs the picker and I haul loads to the crib. We’re not the most modern farm. I haul loads with a 1951 Farmall M. It really lugs pulling a heavy load up a hill. But then when you get to the top and start down the other side, you think you’d really go fast. While you do speed up a little it’s not as much as you’d think. The load starts pushing the tractor but 4th gear on the M will only go so fast. It just makes the engine rev way up for a fractional increase in ground speed. You’d go almost as fast with no load behind the tractor.

I’ve been in the process of applying to be a short-term missionary. The official process of going through the Covenant is a bit more involved than missions I’ve been involved with in the past and, honestly, tries my patience. I get really frustrated with how slow the bureaucracy moves. Then I thought of hauling loads of corn. The application process only goes so fast. No matter how much I push the people in Chicago to get things done, the pace remains the same. But this is the path God has chosen for me. I may not understand why, but I need to accept the pace.

This whole process reminds me of the story of the Israelites’ exodus from Egypt. After all the miraculous plagues Pharaoh finally relents and lets the people go. They must be thinking about making a bee-line for the Promised Land. All milk and honey, right?

When Pharaoh finally let the people go, God did not lead them on the road that runs through Philistine territory, even though that was the shortest way from Egypt to the Promised Land. Exodus 13:17a

So what happened? Why didn’t God do what made sense to the Israelites? First, he thought they might return to Egypt if faced with battle. But more importantly they had to learn to trust and obey God. Think of all the trials they faced on the journey to Canaan. They crossed the Red Sea, ate manna and quail, drank water from a rock, got the Ten Commandments, disobeyed, made a golden calf, the list goes on and on. God was preparing them; they weren’t ready to enter the Promised Land.

It’s like that in my life and probably in yours, too. We see something that God is going to do with us or for us and we want it now. I don’t want to wait around. I want to go and do what God has promised for me. But if I’m impatient I’ll miss the benefit of the time of preparation, and if I’m impatient I probably need a time of preparation! I also know that I can’t just sit and think things will happen. I need to keep pressing on toward the goal that God has given me. I like this quote from Oswald Chambers, There are times when we do know what God’s purpose is; whether we will let the vision be turned into actual character depends upon us, not upon God.

My prayer is to trust in God and to follow the path laid out for me. Asking God for the strength that I need when there are trials on the way. Knowing that God knows what is best, that His ways are higher than my ways. All the while being thankful for His companionship on my journey here on this earth. Amen.

Its been over four years since I first came on summer staff at Cascades and it feels like that was a *long* time ago…… and now after almost finishing my first month on full-time, year round staff I’m enjoying being here just as much as I was on day 1.

God is Good.

Alright Everyone, I’ve very excited and proud to bring you the newest regular feature here on the northslope blog…. weekly devotions/stories brought to you by a variety of people. This was an idea of Neil Peterson a friend who served with me at KICY.

I’d love to have you post your thoughts, comments and encouragement to those who share their lives here with you.

If you’d like to participate PLEASE email me right away as I’m looking to setup a schedule here pretty soon.

I’ve been back living in Chicago for six weeks but I’m still adjusting to life in a new town and as a student. Part of that adjustment has been adapting to life without cable TV. So unless I want to watch Good Times reruns or the WB (it’s hard to say which is worse), I’ve turned to PBS for my viewing entertainment (more often edu-tainment!). Last week public broadcasting treated me with Martin Scorsese’s documentary No Direction Home, a biography of Bob Dylan. Dylan fans easily identify the movie’s title as a line from his 1966 hit “Like a Rolling Stone”, but the title also reveals the essence of Bob Dylan’s story. Early in the movie Dylan says, “I was born far from where I was supposed to be, so maybe I’m on my way home.” His words articulated something inside of me. Since moving to Chicago I realize that I really miss the Pacific Northwest. I’ve lived away from Washington before, but now more than ever I miss home. You see, my grandfather past away just a few days ago. He suffered for a long time and I’m glad he is now at peace, but what saddens me is that when Grandpa died both my mom and her sister were out of town when it happened. None of us were there for my grandma when her husband passed on. When the news came I felt helpless. How do I get back to where I’m supposed to be?

The ancient Hebrews had a word for a person “with no direction home”, they were called gurh– Sometimes translated strangers, aliens, or sojourners; they were wandering people, without homes or family to speak of. They were vulnerable, often mentioned alongside widows and orphans, and in the ancient world (not much unlike ours) they were frequently unnoticed and forgotten altogether. But God says to them that he is their God. “The LORD watches over the stranger, he upholds the widow and the orphan” (Psalm 146.5). God is on their side, he is particular towards them and literally hundred’s of texts from the Old Testament affirm this. My grandmother proved this true. When I called to talk to her about grandpa’s death, the first thing she said was, “I was not alone when your grandpa died. I knew the Lord was there with me.” My eyes well up again as I type the words, their truth touches me deeply. Our God Yahweh is the God of widows and orphans.

These days the circumstances of my life make me feel a little like a mattress balancing on a bottle of wine. I miss the security, the familiarity, and the comfort of home. But the promise of God’s word is that he is closer to me now than when I am safe and happy. Though I have few friends to turn to in my new city, God is with me. Though the balance of my bank account is precariously low, God is with me. Though my family is far away, God is with me. God is my home, he is my fortress.
Being a fan of Bob Dylan and a Rock ‘n Roll mystic, I listen for spiritual truth in the poet’s gravely voice. While I now feel disoriented, my mind remembers this song and my soul waits a little better for God’s peace:

‘Twas in another lifetime, one of toil and blood
when blackness was a virtue and the road was full of mud
I came in from the wilderness, a creature void of form.
“Come in,” she said,
“I’ll give you shelter from the storm.”
-Shelter from the Storm, 1975

Christ invites us to “abide with him” (John 15.4), to make our home in him. Location and circumstance are not your home. I do not live in Chicago. I live in Christ and Christ in me. When my heart is near God’s, I am where I’m supposed to be. The veil between heaven and earth is paper thin. My grandfather is now in the eternal place Jesus prepared for him (John 14.3), but none of us who believe are far from it.

Emmanuel, God with us, be near to us as we wander. Be our familiar home. Help us to know you are present. I thank you that I am not alone and that no power in the entire world can change that. Lord would you comfort those who grieve and make my heart willing to grieve with them. Amen.