Animals, Chaos, and Peace by Kristen Joy Wilks

Animals, Chaos, and Peace by Kristen Joy Wilks

I rarely post about children’s books, but this one sounded super cute, and I expect some of you readers have sweet little ones that would be encouraged by the story of Phooey Kerflooey by Kristen Joy Wilks. Welcome, Kristen!


My husband (Scruffy) and I live and work off-grid at a remote Bible camp. The peaceful setting alternates between calm and chaos as herds of campers come to play and then rush home to be with their families once more, leaving us surrounded by the quiet of the forest and the rustling emptiness of our mountain meadow.

Maintaining the camp facilities adds its own brand of chaos even when the campers are gone. We don’t have water if the pump breaks or power if the generator has an issue, and when pipes freeze, water can flood the buildings.

When I was writing Phooey Kerflooey and searching for a theme that would truly push my young characters to their limits, helping them grow into their strengths, I settled on peace amidst chaos. I didn’t realize it at the time, but that theme is such a clear reflection of our own life here at the camp.

The protagonist wants a puppy to help calm down his daredevil brother, chase away an invading squirrel, and bring just a bit of peace to their chaotic home.

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How well I know the feeling

Our Newfoundland dog, Princess Leia Freyja, was such a comfort during the eight beautiful years that we were her people. Now, she was a crazy puppy. But she matured into a calm and loving dog who did therapy visits with me to local schools and always watched out for my husband.

One time, Scruff had to climb onto the roof of the camp’s main lodge to break away large chunks of snow and ice that wouldn’t slide down. With a worried slant to her ears, Leia watched him work. He was standing in the wrong spot when the last chunk started to slide and Scruffy barreled off the roof along with a small avalanche of snow! Leia was horrified!

She galloped over to where Scruffy lay atop a pile of snow, laughing. She did not think it was funny. Our worried dog leapt on top of his chest and licked and licked and licked him. Scruff could barely breathe for all her urgent care. He tried to sit up, and she slammed a paw down on his chest and pushed him back down. Then she licked him some more. Our girl wouldn’t let Scruff move until she was satisfied that he was both unhurt and well-washed.

Leia was such a gift from God. She brought us so much comfort during the chaos of camp work. When days were long and the needs of the people who were under our care were heavy, Leia always greeted us with a wagging tail and kind, understanding eyes. Stroking her soft fur brought us a moment of peace and her joy was contagious.

Losing Leia

Our three sons asked that I base a book character on our sweet Leia and thus Phooey Kerflooey was born. Before I could get the book polished and published, we lost our gentle dog to a brain tumor.

Both my husband and I have lost so many people over the years, but the loss of a dog is an especially difficult kind of pain. Dogs show love in a way that us humans can only aspire to with Jesus’ help. They love completely and with absolute forgiveness. Losing that made the chaos of ministry overwhelming.

Honestly, Scruff and I didn’t know if we would make it through that summer after Leia died. But with the Lord’s care, we limped along and He did amazing work in the lives of kids and staff despite our pain. Even using our pain for His work.

Comfort in a surprising place

You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you.

Isaiah 26:3

For the entirety of our twenty-three-year marriage, my husband has refused to get a cat. But this fall, on a wet November day, someone dumped a half-grown cat into the forest near our mountain home. The neighbors found her and wonder of wonders, my husband, the man who couldn’t abide cats for any amount of time, suggested that we take her in.

What a gift from God as we struggled with the loss of our Leia. Whisper Persnickety is a gentle soul with a soft meow and velvet paws. She curls up on Scruffy’s lap while he works on his computer and she twines around our feet all day, just wanting to be close. Her soft coat and gentle purrs bring that glimpse of God’s peace into our chaos once more.

Isn’t it just like God to answer our prayer for peace with the very kind of fuzzy friend my husband refused to consider? But God is like that. The peace He gives doesn’t have to wait for the roar to die down. It is stronger than whatever kind of chaos we find swirling around us. A gentle whisper in the storm, such is the peace of God.

The LORD said, “Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the LORD, for the LORD is about to pass by.” Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake.
After the earthquake came a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper

I Kings 19:11-12

Kristen Joy Wilks writes from a remote mountain meadow that alternates between quiet and chaos. She can be found tucked under a tattered quilt at 4:00 a.m. writing a wide variety of implausible tales or at www.kristenjoywilks.com. Sign up for her newsletter and enjoy a free book!

Put Your Hope in One Basket

Put Your Hope in One Basket

We’ve all heard the popular saying, “Don’t put all your eggs in one basket.” It is a caution against risking everything on one plan or one endeavor. It’s an encouragement to diversify and learn many skills. In many ways, this is good advice, but when it comes to eternity, our faith, and our hope for the future all those eggs belong in one basket: Jesus Christ.

Put All YourHope in One Basket

The church is in a crisis much like the church in Galatia when false teachers added back old rules and restrictions to salvation. They were trying the blend an old system of belief with the new system of belief. In Galatia, false teachers were telling the believers they needed Jesus PLUS circumcision.

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Salvation is not Jesus PLUS. Salvation is Jesus only.

Acts 4:12, “Salvation is found in no other, there is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved.”

John 14:6, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No man comes to the Father except through me.”

Ephesians 4:21-24, “assuming that you have heard about him and were taught in him, as the truth is in Jesus, to put off your old self, which belongs to your former manner of life and is corrupt through deceitful desires, and to be renewed in the spirit of your minds,  and to put on the new self, created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness.”

Jesus PLUS a checklist?

I spent some of my early ministry years trying to justify myself before God by following extra rules. They were weighty and exhausting and I was unable to keep them. I tried to do everything perfectly, trying to earn the favor of demanding people as if pleasing them was congruent to pleasing God. Here is a sample of the checklist I tried to follow to earn God’s favor:

  • Sing loud enough for people on the other side of the church to hear.
  • Teach in Sunday school
  • Play the piano
  • Lead women’s craft nights
  • Be a best friend to anyone who desired it
  • Become a counselor
  • Be a great problem solver

Believers in Jesus already have God’s favor

Your hope for the future is not connected to your ability to lead a craft night or deliver a meal. Just like the hope for the people in Galatia was not in circumcision. Your hope is in one thing: Jesus resurrected. When God looks at those who have trusted in Christ, he sees Christ, who is the perfect image-bearer of God.

When you believe in Christ, He covers your sin with his holiness, and God sees you as holy. For God’s chosen ones, those cleansed and made pure by the blood of Christ, our present identity in Christ is holy. Col 3:12, “Put on then, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved…” 1 Pet 2:9, “But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation…” We are holy, not because we have earned it or completed a checklist, we are holy because those adopted into the family of God are made holy by Christ.

Put your eggs in that basket.

Feeling Overwhelmed?

Feeling Overwhelmed?

You probably saw it somewhere on social media today, another loaf of homemade bread. It was perfectly golden and swollen to impossible heights of fluffy goodness. Scrolling down the website page makes you feel worse. Picture after picture of perfect living spaces with bare counters and fresh flowers are arranged in spring colored palettes. Recipe after recipe boasts images that would make Martha Stewart salivate.

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Most of the days I’m trolling social media, I’m looking for recipes tagged easy and quick with five ingredients or less. I need directions I can follow while navigating the minefield of Lego covering our not-so-bare counters and floors. All those stylish outfits and home staging images on Pinterest make my closet and house look like a second-hand store after a 50% off sale.

Combat being overwhelmed by being overwhelmed

Consider something like fear. I fear lots of things, especially when it comes to putting myself out into the world through teaching, speaking, or writing books. Most of those fears can be listed under the subheading of fear of man.

I don’t fight against the fear of man by inflating my self-esteem or by convincing myself that I am all that and a bag of chips. (Great, now I want chips…) I fight fear with fear. The only way to defeat a sinful fear of man is by cultivating a right and healthy fear of God. Only then, will God’s opinion of me matter more than man’s opinion. Yes, there is space to correct poor biblical thinking regarding who I am in Christ, but ultimately fighting a fear of man is not about feeling better about myself. It’s about knowing who God is, what God has said about me, and believing His word to be true.

Be overwhelmed by the right things

Fighting against feeling overwhelmed is quite similar. I don’t fight being overwhelmed by throwing everything “extra” into the trash, although there may be space for that kind of application in my life. Ultimately, I combat the feeling of being overwhelmed with life by cultivating a heart that is overwhelmed with God. When I know who God is, what He has done for me, and what He has promised me for the future, pleasing Him captivates my heart. Suddenly, I want to pursue Him, obey Him, and walk in submission to Him. I want it more than I want to post a social media snapshot of my so-called perfect life. I am always overwhelmed when the pursuit of image or status overcomes my pursuit of God.

Keep the first things first

When my heart is fixated on the many blessings already received from God, on following His direction rather than the direction in which culture points me, listening to His voice rather than the voice of doubt, the other things fade away.

So bake bread from scratch, if you want to bake bread. Decorate with a minimalist flair, or layer nick nacks and pictures and doilies and lace. Stay caught up on your laundry with daily loads, or work through the wash one day a week. Find the rhythm that works for you in regards to how you manage your responsibilities, but even more important than that, find God.

If I keep the first things first, the rest tends to sort itself out. The most important decision I make every single day is the decision to enter into the presence of God, to seek Him first, to understand His call on my life, and to respond to Him in obedience.

And sometimes, after that, I bake bread. But most days, I do the laundry.

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The most important decision I make every single day is the decision to enter into the presence of God.

Fractured Bones Rejoice

Fractured Bones Rejoice

An albatross of sin drives nails through innocence. You are blameless in judgment. Yet, my fractured bones rejoice. Steadfast love and fragrant mercy blot out transgressions. You teach wisdom and lead the penitent heart to repentance. You absorb my stain, leaving me clean. Not for me, but for You.

And I sing a new song, a song of righteousness, praising you and only you. I bring you the sacrifice of my broken spirit, my fragmented and contrite heart, myself brought low to you. I offer praise and choose joy when life is not joyful. I trust that you, God, and only you, are in control when life spins out of control. I worship you with a joy-filled heart and choose to believe you are good, even when life is not.

When I don’t feel your goodness, and when circumstances whisper you have betrayed me, my praise is a sacrifice. When I lay on the altar my unfulfilled desires and choose to trust the God I cannot understand – it is a sacrifice of praise.

sacrifice of praise

This joy is not happiness, it is not a bubbling of thanks spilling out in gratitude. It is a settled belief that you are good. That despite feelings, circumstances, uncertainties, and unanswered questions, you hold it all. And when I worship here, in the difficulty of now, my praise becomes an offering of trust and adoration that does not hinge on getting my way. It is a beautiful, full-surrender, that might be scary, but is oh, so good.

It is far too easy to show up every Sunday and never really show up. And Lord, I want to show up. I want to be present, invested, all-in, for your plans for your ultimate glory. I know it won’t be easy. I am trying to hold loosely. I tremble over what might lay on the road ahead. But I believe this is your calling for me – for all of your children – to praise you on the narrow road during the good and the bad, the hard and the easy, all for your glory.

It is my sacrifice of praise. These fractured bones rejoice.

 

*from the archives

Cracked Open and Ugly

Cracked Open and Ugly

How long, O Lord? How long until this suffocating weight lifts and lungs fill with breath? How far will the greedy fingers of darkness reach? How deep must I dig to bury grief? Crippled and raw, I drop at your feet weeping fresh wounds and blackened bruises. I cannot withstand this avalanche of calamity.

where are you lord

The winds batter your faithful. The tempest abuses your chosen. This reed drowns in the very water that once gave life. Where are you, Lord? Why do you wait? Where is your redemption? Why isn’t it now?

My cracked open heart spills out ugly. The short-suffering, inpatient, unloving, unforgiving, resentful, discontent, unrested, harsh-hearted sin that stiffens against accepting anything but good from your hand. And the wind blows.

But even here, You lead me. Even here, Your hand guides me. Even when the angry gusts twist and tear and push and pull, You are here. And I can no longer resist your presence. This empty heart ringing hallow beats chooses praise. Praise to the God who never changes, who never walks away. Who understands empty because He spilled out empty for love. Praise to the God who allows the hardship and tears – but doesn’t waste a single drop on the ground, who keeps count of my tossing, my sacrifice of praise.

Praise to the God who sees beauty in broken, who receives praise from fractured bones, who promises one day to press a nail-scarred hand to my cheek and wipe away every tear.

O Lord, do not tarry.

 

*from the archives