The mortgage on our log cabin home on Lake Pagosa has been, is and probably will continue to be one of my biggest teachers and taskmasters. The amount is so large and our income is so small that the giant called fear seldom sleeps. He has found a place to tease and tackle me at the slightest provocation. I have asked again and again and again, "Whose idea was it to saddle us with what has been for many years such a terrifying and almost crushing burden?" I have my answers now. I will ask our reader-friends to follow this account carefully and glean their own answers from what I have written.
There was a time, almost twenty years ago, when the word mortgage was little more than a pesky fly that landed once a month on my checkbook. With an easy stroke of my pen, I shooed a minor irritation away. The interest on our mortgage was a wonderful 4 1/2%. Our total monthly payments including principal, taxes and insurance was only 219 dollars. Our home and mortgage was a bargain. We enjoyed living at the end of a dead-end street on 3/4 of an acre. It was our corner of heaven – our refuge. We were being cradled by the love and grace of God
One morning, I remember the incident quite well, as I was pulling the bedspread over the pillows, here came this unsolicited, unexpected thought, "Start looking for a larger place." Just six little words started us on an adventure that is still in progress.
Those six little words did not make any sense to me at the time. My rational mind argued, "We have just gotten nicely settled. We have four bedrooms, living room and family room. We don't need any more space!" But over the years I had learned to recognize and trust that still small voice that can and does occasionally interrupt our normal thought-life. It is Gods desire to speak to his children and when He does, it is often through that still small voice. He communicates differently with every person and uses an approach uniquely suited to each personality. He uses dreams, visions, His Word, the lyrics of songs, thoughts, prophetic words, pictures; and I am sure, much more to communicate His intentions and instructions to us. His ways of speaking to us are endless and continuous if we learn to listen, trust and then obey without grumbling or complaining.
It is easy to be led astray by "deceiving voices" or misinterpret the voice or the Word of God. The world calls this problem "schizophrenia." It has happened to me and others I have met. I therefore carefully ponder and test all new ideas that would attempt to abruptly alter the direction of my life and thereby the life of my family.
For weeks the thought of a larger place in some yet unknown town was my personal secret. But eventually I told my wife Rebekah what I had experienced. The thought of having to move again did not appeal to her or to me, but she said nothing. She knew that I was the kind of person who had to learn by making his own mistakes. There was one thing in my favor, though; she loved me and trusted me. Also, one of Rebekah's greatest and yet unfulfilled dreams was to live in a log cabin in the mountains. Where to find such a place was like looking for that proverbial needle in a haystack.
Some of the intricate details of the story that brought us from Escondido, California to Pagosa Springs, Colorado and to that "larger house" are already recorded in Chapter XI of our book "To Hell and Back." Had we known then what we know today, we would never have had the courage to make such a dramatic move.
Had I known that a beautiful big log house on a serene and scenic mountain lake would eventually become the "big Goliath" in my life, I would probably have questioned the origin of that "still small voice." But yes, God does use trying circumstances to perfect us and bring us into our promised land.
That beautiful place on Lake Pagosa became a much fought over and prayed over piece of real estate. In Chapter XIII we related how we almost defaulted on our contract with the seller of the house. I procrastinated too long to secure permanent financing. And when I did finally act, interest rates were at an all-time high of 16 per cent. Yes, we did secure a new loan with the help of three co-signers; but now we were locked in at paying 1,300 dollars per month instead of 219 dollars. Our fixed income of 637 dollars per month left us no room to breathe – none!
The little town of Pagosa Springs is certainly a beautiful place to vacation, to live, to raise children, to go hunting and skiing; but it is also an economic nightmare for anyone who must depend on the local economy to make a living. The standard joke is that the only way to leave Pagosa Springs with a million dollars is to come with two. Beautiful scenery, a good climate, no smog and no traffic jams are good for the soul, but that doesn't pay the mortgage, taxes or utility bills. But by the grace of God we did! We learned many things. We learned how to cut firewood, shovel snow and stay out of ditches during the winter. Trusting God for our needs took on a whole new dimension. We also entered a whole new world of relationships for ourselves and our children. Who they eventually met and married depended upon where we lived and where they went to school. We were now 850 miles away from loving but sometimes smothering friends and relatives. We were very much on our own. There was no one I could blame in the event of failure but myself. I had to learn to swim using new strokes to survive. Trusting God took on a different dimension.
We were in a place where we had lots of room to grow and lots of opportunities to fail. I was stripped of all my security blankets. There was no financial cushion. I was now totally vulnerable. I had placed myself in a position where Jesus could be my teacher, my protector, my disciplinarian, my friend, my provider, my encourager.
There were three things that I could do to generate an income. I could make sandblasted Scripture verses on wood and stone, I could teach others the craft; and I could share my testimony. I did all of the above. I remember an order for fifty signs that spelled two important words, "YES, LORD." After I had made the first few signs the work became so repetitive that it became monotonous. I finally screamed, "NO, LORD", but dutifully completed the order. As time went by, sawdust had such a toxic effect on my lungs, that the work became very painful. I had to shelve any thought of the signs becoming a dependable source of income.
Finally I got the message, "You can make sandblasted signs, Peter, but you are to look to me, Jesus, as your provider, not your signs or the work of your hands." That was lesson number one I needed to learn. This is a hard lesson for anyone who has been taught that a good education, hard work, success, prosperity and happiness go hand in hand.
Not until we were forced to live from day to day, did we receive our first five dollar gift. One family around the lake from where we lived, the Warfields, committed themselves to give us five dollars every month. We had taught our craft and shared our testimony for four years before the Lord saw fit to say, "Let me bless you with a five dollar gift." What a joyful day that was; and as the years went by, Father/God saw fit to provide for us through others in larger amounts.
For many years the amounts were just sufficient to meet emergency needs. We were kept on a very short leash so to speak. The children sometimes had to walk five miles home from school. But it was the fear of not having enough money to make the mortgage payments that paralyzed me, and in turn created a very tense and unpleasant atmosphere in our home. Even long hot showers were viewed as luxuries. I remember those days I stood in front of a spinning electric meter, picturing a huge bill.
Fear is torment. I think we all know that. Fear had been lurking in a hidden corner of my life waiting for that right moment to attack me. The monthly mortgage payment gave this spirit many opportunities to do so. My wife and children tell me that I was often unbearable to live with, especially towards the end of the month when the payment was due.
Finally exhaustion, fear and depression took its toll. In 1983, after having lived in our dream house for six years, we put our home on the market. I could no longer carry the burden of the mortgage or believe God to be my provider. Satan had done a good job of wearing me down. In Chapter XIX of "To Hell and Back" I expressed my thoughts. I am ashamed to say that I wrote that the decision to move was God-inspired and directed. Now I know that this was not true. Satan is the great deceiver and tries to cloak himself in a way that he can appear to us as an angel of light.
Almost ten years have elapsed since Chapter XIX was penned. We are still in the same house. We have pushed out the walls and made more room for guests. We have been late on our mortgage payment only three or four times. Here is lesson number two that I needed to learn: God does not contradict Himself. He does not change His mind in the middle of the stream so to speak. He did not make a mistake when He directed us to move to the mountains. And we did not make a mistake when we accepted the challenge. However, all thoughts, voices or impressions are not necessarily from God. Many voices are the children of fear, exhaustion, anger, greed, jealousy, lust, flattery, pride, etc. and etc. None of us are immune from being influenced by Satan or our carnal natures. None of us are immune from interpreting the voice of Satan as the voice of an angel, the Holy Spirit or Jesus. Proceeding with caution is a must in order not to crash and burn. Only Jesus could not be deceived although Satan gave it his best shot to do so.
Jesus was in the wilderness where He was tempted by the devil after having fasted for forty days. The devil is known as the master deceiver. He can and often does appear as an angel of light. He appears when we are in our most vulnerable state. When I wrote chapter XIX I was totally deceived. I misinterpreted the words of a prophetic voice that came to town. By the grace of God our home did not find a buyer. Only one person made a half-hearted offer. That person did not want to buy our home; he wanted to steal it!
In 1984, after our home was for sale for sixteen months, we received a fresh anointing of faith and courage to continue ministering at our present address. I penned the story for an earlier newsletter and called it "Miracle on 34th Street."
Miracle on 34th Street
Most of us have struggled hard and long to get clear directions. When the waves of adversity rush in, does one run or duck or fight or build a dike? If we would only know for sure, we would be able to give 100% of ourselves to the correct solution. When the answer finally does come, and come it does if we don't give up; it often zooms in from left field.
For a good year we had been wondering if we were to move from Pagosa Springs and establish another base of operation in another community. For a year we struggled, living in limbo, while our house was for sale. Nothing happened; no buyer came along.
I had the feeling that somehow we would receive our answer during our trip to Texas and started to feel a measure of peace. We were returning from Dallas. We had shared Crafts for Christ (making sandblasted signs) with a number of young adults who were struggling with various emotional, alcohol and drug-abuse problems. It had been a good experience, and we were ready to go back to Pagosa Springs. We always liked to stop off in Lubbock, because we are blessed with such good friends there in Robert and Joyce Knight, and we also know a good mechanic.(Our car always seemed to limp into Lubbock.)
Our ailing automobile was the catalyst that the Lord used to bring us the answer we needed. We took our car to Ken Mead's Automotive at the corner of 34th Street and Indiana. After putting the car on the hoist, we were told that it would take about a half a day to do the work. Ken's "go-for" man, Buster, gave us a ride to our hosts' home, the Knights. As soon as we got into the car with Buster, he exploded with a child-like love for Jesus. We quickly became acquainted and very close. We prayed together before he dropped us off; and I gave him a copy of our book "To Hell and Back."
All of us felt that compelling need to see one another again before living town and were able to do so two nights later at Buster's home. We became much better acquainted with Buster and Marie Nuckolls that evening. There was that sense of expectation as we sat around the kitchen counter. Buster began to speak slowly and softly, carefully choosing each word, it seemed.
"I am not an educated man and never earned much money, so you must carefully consider what I am about to tell you.
"I stayed up most of the night reading your book. I got up at 4:00 in the morning to finish it. It was marvelous to read how you climbed over mountains and tunneled through them if necessary. But when I came to chapter XIX, where you speak of leaving Pagosa Springs because of the heavy mortgage on your house, I became very sad. Suddenly it seemed as if your God and my God was not big enough for you anymore. I really believe that your job in Pagosa Springs is not finished", he said.
Rebekah and I looked at one another and KNEW that we had been spoken to by the Lord in a stern, yet kind way. We knew what we had to do. And when we returned home, the first thing we did was to burn our "House for Sale" sign.
Finding the answer to a very difficult question was our "Miracle on 34th Street." God used a gas station employee who loves Jesus to give us our miracle, our answer.
Thank you Lord! Thank you for using Buster to take us behind the woodshed.
* * * * * * * *
For a while the surge of new faith and courage carried us along. For a few months I made the mortgage payment with apparent ease. I even had the faith to resurrect a newsletter that had been dormant for four years. But the giant called fear was not dead. He had merely crawled into a dark corner where he was gnawing on my inside. "Lord," I asked one day, "What am I doing wrong?" The reply was almost instantaneous. "In all your prayers and petitions for mortgage money , you have never paid attention to the needs of your wife."
My handmaiden Rebekah is a real giver and delights in keeping a nice house, garden and loves to give gifts. But ever since we assumed this large mortgage I denied her the joy of fulfilling these simple pleasures. For several year all her projects had to be shelved and the only gifts she could give were those she made herself. This did not enhance our relationship; but like a good soldier, she kept on going and did not complain.
I learned lesson number three. The needs of my wife must be respected and must be at least as important as any mortgage payment. My wife needed to have the freedom to spend some money for which she was not accountable to her husband and which she could spend on anything that made her happy. I knew that I was on the right track, but I had a very log way to go.
I kept asking the Lord, "Is there anything else that I am doing or not doing that grieves your heart and prevents you from blessing us?" The next answer came unexpectedly one day as I was sitting in church. It was such an invaluable lesson that I have shared it previously through our newsletter. Our local weekly newspaper, the Pagosa Sun also shared it with our community. The story is called, "Paid in Full."
PAID IN FULL
Above all other Christmas gifts, I desired that we might be able to pay a certain debt in full. I asked for this gift, not only for ourselves, but that we might be able to share with others the gift of the story
This story goes back to 1981 when we closed escrow on or house on Lake Pagosa. The owner had agreed to carry an unsecured note without interest or due date in the amount of $1,350. We began to pay on the note, but when the unpaid balance came to $600 in1982, we found every conceivable excuse why other obligations were much more important. In fact, we almost forgot about the debt until an incident in December of 1983 brought it back into sharp focus.
One Sunday morning in early December of 1983 we attended a local church service that was presenting a special Christmas cantata. After we were seated, a friend and local business man came in and seated himself next to me. Quite abruptly and unexpectedly he exploded with these words, "You know, Peter, it's very hard for me to attend almost any church in this community. I always get so angry; and the only reason I am here today is because one of my employees is singing in the choir."
I replied, "But what causes you to be so angry?" Then he proceeded to tell me that in many of the churches there was at least one person who owed him money and who was making no apparent effort to pay his debt. At that moment I was very ashamed to call myself a Christian. My friend continued, "If these customers would only come in to talk to me, I am sure that some arrangement could be worked out. But they avoid me and pass me by on the other side of the street."
It seemed as if I could feel the grief in God's heart toward His wayward children at that moment. As I continued to dwell on the matter, I suddenly remembered our debt of $600 and my very poor attitude about it . For the next two days I wrestled and argued with God concerning the unpaid balance. Finally I did what was right and wrote a letter of apology to the holder of the note. I also committed myself to make every effort to send him $25 a month until the note was paid.
We were not always able to do this, and at times I vehemently argued with God why He should let me off the hook. But with each payment there came more joy and a sense of victory. We knew that we were doing what was right and that God was pleased. In December of 1986 we were able to pay the debt in full. It was a real victory to be able to do this.
From time to time during those intervening years I would visit my friend and discuss our progress and lay bare my heart and feelings. A number of times he would attempt to profusely apologize for exploding with so much anger and frustration while sitting in church next to me. But I was finally able to convince him that God used him as His mouthpiece to speak to me and to His wayward church. We talked about many things during those three years. At one point he realized where he himself might have contributed to the delinquent behavior of a customer by extending credit where he should not have done so. He had compromised and been the stumbling block by trying to be of help while at the same trying to clinch a sale. He owned a car dealership.
Our prayers concerning money are often hindered and remain unanswered because of a debt we are unwilling to pay or acknowledge (Psalm 66:18), "If I regard iniquity in my heart, the Lord will not hear me." It all starts with attitude. God can make a way where there does not seem to be a way. He has the power to cancel our debts and loves doing so, but only if we acknowledge them. I challenge myself and I am using this story to challenge others to take care of their debts. And it does not only have to involve money. Every broken commitment is an unpaid debt. It takes both courage and humility to accept such a challenge. Let's "go for it" and we shall prosper like never before as individuals and as a nation.
* * * * * * * *
In 1985, when interest rates had come down, we pursued new financing with the help of a co-signer. It took almost a year to process all the papers but eventually we succeeded in obtaining a more favorable loan. Even though the process was expensive and lengthy, the effort was worth it. We learned lesson number four: At times we must be aggressive, persistent and courageous to achieve a change for he better.
In 1986 we came to another point of desperation. We did something I vowed that I would never do. We asked for help. Whenever we ask for help we have to humble ourselves. We also expose our vulnerability to others.
I wrote a letter to a friend in which I honestly and courageously shared our needs. Although the letter was addressed to a special friend, it was my intention to send copies to everyone who might be concerned about our situation. With the last few dollars we purchased the necessary stamps – about 160 as best as I can recall. As I dropped the letters into the mailbox, a sense of peace flooded my soul. A few weeks later, phone calls and letters arrived with genuine help and encouragement. Almost all the needs expressed in my letter were met. During the next few years I learned lesson number five: "Swallow your pride, Peter. Don't be afraid to ask for help, but only when I direct you to do so.
Here is a copy of the letter to those who were cheerleaders and encouragers in our life. Like Moses who needed an Aaron and a Hur to lift up his tired arms, we all need Jesus with skin on to stand alongside of us at times.
965 Cloud Cap Avenue
Pagosa Springs, Colorado 81147
May 4, 1986
We are not only writing this letter to you, but to others who have watched us labor and have been restored and refreshed through the ministry of Crafts for Christ. We have chosen to address this letter to you because we have known you longer than anyone else, and we have spent more time together giving you a safe place and encouragement when your life was shattered and confused. There have been many others like you, both young and old, who have learned new skills here at Crafts for Christ, who have tasted the peace that God has graced our home with, and who have been refreshed in this setting. Rebekah and I are glad we could help you when life seemed unbearable.
We are encouraged and proud of what we now see happening in your life. You have adopted much of what we have taught you. You have formed your own company "Third Floor North." You have married a beautiful girl who is now helping you with your dreams and adventures. From time to time you have surprised us and sent us a gift. One time it was a tool, another time much-needed supplies or a check. I cannot tell you how much Rebekah and I appreciate those who remember us in that way. May God bless you for your generous and giving heart!
We have rarely asked for help because like the Apostle Paul, who made tents, we felt that our support could and should come through the sandblasted signs that we made. And in large part we did derive our support from this source. In this way we did not need to be a burden to the Body of Christ. Up till now we have always had enough, but just enough, to take us from one emergency to the next, from one house-payment to the next. You have seen us struggle and you have prayed with us; You have also felt the oppression brought upon us through our perpetual financial lack. Much needed repairs on our house have had to be indefinitely postponed. A guest apartment has been started, but we have not been able to finish it.
We have come to a crossroad. If we are to continue with the ministry of Crafts for Christ and hospitality, we need others to help us. We ask you to take our need and our petition to your kinship group, to your fellowship, and to your pastor. Be an outspoken spokesman for Peter and Rebekah. If only a handful of churches would support us on a regular basis we can continue with what we are doing. Our need is urgent. I am no longer able to sandblast signs or breathe the sawdust generated by the woodworking equipment. Our income from the sale of signs has therefore become marginal.
You might ask, "In what manner are you serving the Body of Christ today, and what is your emphasis?" Our home continues to be used to minister to wounded soldiers, ministers, and servants of the Lord who are burned out and have no place to go. Most recently two pastors stayed with us who had attempted to commit suicide. We consider it a great privilege to give shelter to these people and cover them with a blanket of His love. We also use our home as a classroom and for counseling We receive many calls, both local and long distance. Anyone who would like to learn the Crafts for Christ ministry of sandblasting Scripture verses into wood is welcome to come; and we are glad to teach them. Our garage is a well-equipped workshop now with some excellent tools. Those who would like to make sandblasted signs and utilize these tools are invited to do so. You have been in our home, helped equip and build our shop, and seen for yourself what goes on. The number of people who visit us continues to grow. More and more satellite ministries and businesses like yours are being formed. In fact, there is now a Crafts for Christ outreach near Munich, Germany. We have seen people healed physically and emotionally. We have seen people baptized in the Holy Spirit; and we have seen people purchase one-way tickets to heaven by saying "Yes" to Jesus.
Rebekah and I are encouraged, but also exhausted. We know that our own storehouse must be replenished if we are to go on with this work We have nothing left to give unless someone gives to us. I do not believe that the Lord has in mind for us to become casualties. Maybe we have struggled so hard and so long because we have not asked for help? Whether it was a matter of pride or the inability to discern the leading of the Holy Spirit, I am not sure; but we do need help now if we are to continue. We need help with our mortgage payment; we need help with our guest apartment; we need help with our car payment, we need help with our next Crafts for Christ newsletter, we need a new roof, and we need the exterior of the house stained and sealed. These are our biggest and most obvious and urgent needs. If a number of churches or individuals would support us on a regular basis, we would be able to fulfill our commitments to the Lord and to his people.
Several years ago you had a vision that paralleled the disaster of the commercial airliner that crashed into the Potomac River. There was a man who gave his turn to be rescued to others. Finally, when he was the last remaining survivor on the ice float and the helicopter came to fetch him, he had slipped into the icy waters of the river. He was too exhausted to hold on any longer. Rebekah and I are like that exhausted individual. We will drown unless others see our need and reach out to us.
Blow the trumpet on our behalf, Brian. Alert your Body of Believers and tell them about us. Copy this letter and share it with John and Kim Curtis, with Vince and Caren Vigil, your Mother, and all those who may have a heart for us and this ministry. We will be knit together more closely if we are willing to carry each other's burdens. Don't let another wounded soldier die. These are the words that the Lord has placed upon Rebekah's and my heart; and at the moment we are those wounded soldiers, "because deep inside this armor, the warrior is a child."
Serving Jesus as Stretcher Bearers,
Peter & Rebekah
The Warrior is a Child
by Twila Paris
Lately I've been winning battles left and right,
But even warriors can get wounded in the fight.
People say that I'm amazing, strong beyond my years,
But they don't see inside of me: I'm hiding all the tears
Unafraid because his armor is the best
But even soldiers need a quiet place to rest.
People say that I'm amazing, never face retreat.
But they don't see the enemies that lay me at His feet.
They don’t know that I go running home when I fall down.
They don't know who picks me up when no one is around.
I drop my sword and cry for just awhile.
Because deep inside this armor, the warrior is a child.
* * * * * * * *
The Body of Christ generously responded to our plea for help. But the demon of fear was not totally conquered. It had been injured but not defeated. In 1990 it struck again!
It was in early August of 1990 that we were unable to make our mortgage payment with the funds at hand. The payment became delinquent if the check was not in Omaha, Nebraska by the 15th of each month. At that point a fifty dollar penalty was assessed.
My relief valve for such desperate moments was a large meadow near our house. I go there to walk and pray, to walk and argue with God, to scream, to cry, to petition and to praise and thank God. All my emotions can be safely expressed in that open field of maybe five-hundred acres. I go there both day and night, but mostly at night. Sometimes I need to take a flashlight to find my way.
I had a very long one-way conversation with my heavenly Father that certain day in early August of 1990. At first I argued and questioned the merits of carrying such a huge mortgage. In other words, I accused God; but I also thanked Him for all the years He had been our provider. I also thanked Him for everything He had taught us through these difficult situations. That night I pleaded with Him not to ask me to borrow the money on our VISA credit card to make the next mortgage payment. I figured that borrowing money on our credit card was equal to buying firewood from the devil. He answered my prayer with silence.
Finally after maybe an hour of an intense one-way dialogue, I surrendered. Essentially I prayed these words; and I meant them with all my heart, "Father I want to become a man of faith and courage and learn to trust You all the time with all my heart in all things. If You want the mortgage to be my teacher, I promise You that I will never murmur or complain again. Keep the mortgage on us as long as you deem necessary." AMEN!
I left the meadow that night a free and happy man. The next day I went to the bank and borrowed one-hundred dollars on our credit card. I had learned lesson number six: Surrender! All things work together for good for those who love God - even a big mortgage!
The demon of fear took a vacation for a whole year before he showed his ugly face again. This time he disguised himself in a somewhat different and more legitimate looking wardrobe. He hid behind the state of our depressed economy. Every news broadcast was ominous: America is at the edge of financial disaster! There is no social security, only social insecurity! Fear entered my soul again. I retaliated in a strange way. I made paying off the mortgage as my highest goal. I did not realize that all my prayers were motivated by fear not by faith. I prayed for financial miracles; but the longer and harder I prayed the more heaven closed its gates with silence. Less than nothing happened. With every month that passed it became increasingly more difficult to meet our obligations. Something was very wrong!
The urge to re-read some of Catherine Marshall's books came over me at that time; and I did. One evening I stumbled across a sentence in the book "Something More" that pulled the veil from my eyes. Catherine Marshall writes, "So long as I was assuming that fullness of life corresponded to what I was striving for, I was actually deifying my own goal." And she went on to write, "And 'thou shalt have no other gods before Me' had to apply to my own desire world."
Lesson number seven taught me: Don't allow a free and clear home to become your goal and your god. I had mistakenly traded a puny goal for the precious presence of God. What a fool I had been for so many years! I had made paying off our home my idol. The mortgage has taught me all of these things and there are probably more lessons in store.
At the time of this writing we had lived in our log cabin castle on Lake Pagosa for fifteen years - one quarter of our lives. Our log cabin has now become a fortress because of the many prayers, the many battles and the many victories. To God be the glory for the many victories. This home and this place is a dream come true for Rebekah. We are grateful for every day that we have been able to live amongst these majestic mountains, at the edge of a serene lake and experience four magnificent seasons. Neither Rebekah nor I have ever regretted trading a life of comfort and security for a life of adventure. God used the mortgage to stretch and scrub us. I thank God for that still small voice that continues to speak to me, a voice that will never contradict Himself. May I always be able to heart Him and interpret His voice correctly. And, yes, here is one final lesson I learned that I would like to pass on: Peter, be careful about judging anyone who hears voices, or has mystical encounters as incompetent or sick.
This story was penned in 1992. It was recorded on a yellow tablet in pencil. It had mysteriously disappeared for 21 years. Today is May 30, 2013. The mortgage was miraculously paid in full in 1999 – seventeen years before it was due to be paid. Rebekah and this writer thank Jesus and all those He used to bring us to this season of victory and joy. We thank God for teaching us those hard lessons that can only be learned in the University of Hard Knocks and the hot furnace of affliction. Yes, Jesus is God. Yes, Jesus is a good God. The hard lessons He taught me are a sign of His mercy and grace.
Here is a picture of our home as it generally looks at Christmas-time. You are invite to come and taste and see that the Lord is good. The Upper Room, our guest apartment, is available to weary pilgrims.
E-mail Peter and Rebekah
All writings by Peter, the Lord's Scribe and Storyteller and all paintings by Rebekah, the Lord's artist are copyright free.