CPC Life is a publication of Christ Presbyterian Church. In each issue of CPC Life, we feature stories, pictures, and people that make our church unique, plus a full listing of monthly programs and events. We have here compiled all the faith stories from the 2012-2013 ministry year, which demonstrate to us the moving of the Holy Spirit in this congregation and beyond. We are grateful for the men, women, and kids who share their stories and give life to our church mission of “inspiring all generations to follow Jesus, love others, and live missionally.� Thank you for reading the powerful stories of these faithful CPCers.
Todd Mulliken, Dave Stark, Eric Strobel, Peter Strommen, Tom Erickson, Tim Geoffrion, Dave Janiszewski. Missing from photo: Tom Kamp and Mike Dircz.
I started this small group back in 1997 with Dave Stark. A couple years later, I got to know Dave Janiszewski, because we both played in the contemporary worship band. He was a great guy, but I didn’t know how much he had connected in a smaller Bible study setting. One Sunday after church, I invited him to our Tuesday morning small group.
to our wives, children, business experiences, illnesses, and other stuff. I went through some really rough times with my business, and I wouldn’t have survived without this group. I remember one specific day when I must have looked like crap. I was at my lowest point. One of the guys looked at me and said, “I think
Todd’s invitation was a big catalyst for me. I used to look at the listing of small groups that they’d hand out at Men’s Breakfasts but never took the step to join one. And I’m not a shy person. I’ll do Urban Homeworks or volunteer. But to be in an intimate setting with a small group of guys . . . it took a personal invitation to get me there.
As the inviter, you don’t know if someone will accept. You just try to come from a place of confidence. You take a risk, reach out and love, make the ask, and let God do the rest.
This group has helped me grow so much. It’s been a great way to get into the Word much deeper. We also dig into each other’s lives and pray for one another in respect
we need to lay hands on Dave.” All the guys circled around me and prayed. It was like a yoke being lifted off me.
This group has been a refuge for me. It’s a safe place to talk about the difficult things or joys of life. My wife also likes it because it’s got me to actually read the Old September 2012 Issue
Testament. We spent two years in Judges and Kings!
John Crosby gave a sermon about ten years ago on the “fool’s bench.” It’s the idea that if you invite someone to church, you need the confidence to sit on the “fool’s bench” even if they don’t show up. There are lots of people I’ve invited to CPC who have never come. One of the current members of our group, Tom Kamp, is someone I invited. I met him one Wednesday when I was picking up my daughter from her CPC group at his house. I was 45 minutes early, so Tom and I chatted in his living room over coffee, and I asked if he’d be interested in joining our men’s group. I said there was no pressure — just show up, see what happens, and if you don’t like it, no big deal. He came to the group within a few weeks and has now been with us four years.
Only two of the original members are still in our group, as a lot of guys have relocated for business. But this group has continued because of invitation — one guy inviting another to join. There are a lot of folks at CPC on the sidelines. Invitation is an important thing.
Sallie March, Arlene Leverentz, Kathy Pieper, Debbie Ducar, Mary Otterlei, Lynn Widmoyer, Carrie Kohlmann, Wendy Powell
n the first 15 years of marriage, we moved seven times, including once overseas. I learned from those moves that if I didn’t invite people over, I wasn’t going to have friends — or a very interesting life. I also learned it was a big deal to invite someone into your home. I kept flinging my doors open because I knew it was powerful and personal to invite someone to my table.
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I came to faith in Christ before moving back to Minnesota. By the time we returned in 1985, my faith was growing exponentially. I recognized it was important to be built up and sanctified by other Christians: iron sharpening iron. But once we got to Minneapolis, we had so many relatives in town, we quickly fell back into family mode. I joined Bible Study Fellowship (BSF) a few years later but hardly knew anyone. One day, a woman invited me to her home for lunch. She told me she invited a different woman over every Monday, and it reminded me of what I used to do. I had forgotten how meaningful it was to get to know someone across a table. It planted a seed in me. I decided to invite seven women to my house for tea. We were all from BSF
but had never shared more than a few casual conversations. I sent out real paper invitations and suggested we read a book in advance so we’d have something to talk about. I think the women were surprised to be invited to the home of someone they didn’t really know. That was 21 years ago — and our group of eight women has been meeting ever since. We try to meet monthly, but we’re actually busier now than
in our 40s! We rotate homes and the hostess prepares lunch. We’ve kept it as a book club and read mostly Christian books. We recently counted 86 books that we’ve read together. We also pray for and with each other. We’ve gone through some big things. Four of our sons and one son-in-law have gone to Iraq and Afghanistan. Lynn’s husband died suddenly. Wendy’s husband suffered brain trauma. We’ve thrown a bridal shower for September 2012 Issue
each of our daughters and/or sons’ fiancées. At those showers, there’s one constant: one of us gives a devotional on biblical marriage. We have a retreat every year at a cabin. We try to do something that will enrich our relationship with Christ, and we do a lot of talking. Some years, women have broken legs or knee pain, but we still bring them up to the cabin. I lived in London for one year, and, except for one woman, they all came to visit. Over all these years, no one has left the group. We’ve never officially become a prayer circle, but our faith connection is that deep. Everyone needs believing friends to stand beside them, to lift their arms for them in prayer when a situation becomes too hard. The Lord has been gracious to allow us to continue to meet and not move any of us out of town. We say to each other that we do not take this lightly. I think people today are more casual about invitations. I see my kids send out Evites that are open to everyone, and people come and go. For my generation, it was about setting the table and having a nice meal. I think it’s important to be intentional. I just think of our group and the gift of these 21 years of doing life together.
came to The Table at CPC because my friend Tyler invited me. I met Tyler through a recovery and sobriety program. The recovery program talked about spirituality in a broad sense, but I noticed Tyler talked about God specifically. There was something different about him, a spiritual depth the other guys didn’t have. I noticed he disappeared on Sunday nights to go to church, so I asked him about it.
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a relationship with God. It was so different from the fire and brimstone Christianity I thought I knew. I kept going back to The Table. I started inviting other guys from my recovery group to come, too. Some of them didn’t have cars, so I would drive. On Sunday nights, I’d leave work in St. Paul, drive to Uptown to pick up friends, we’d go to CPC and then often to Brad’s house in Shakopee, and then I’d take them home.
That first Table service, I was surprised by how different the format was from the Catholic services I had gone to as a kid. That helped me be more open, to think about God differently than before. One of the things that made me feel comfortable was the music. The whole service felt more relatable and encouraging than what I had seen before. After the service, Brad Jackson [Table pastor] invited me to his house. He and Tyler had been meeting for months, but he’d never met me before. Brad and I ended up having a three-hour conversation on his patio about Christianity. I had always thought religion was about following rules: “Do this and this will happen to you, and if not, there are consequences.” But Brad talked about following Jesus, about having
A lot of these guys had sworn off church. They’d had dry or bad experiences with religion like I had. I wouldn’t necessarily tell them why they should come to The Table but just share my experiences. I would say, “This has given me an opportunity to look at myself and my relationship with God in a new way.” Over the course of several months, we filled a pew with these guys each September 2012 Issue
week. It’s been two years now. Brad’s gotten really close to us, so we sit in the second row behind him. We usually go to Brad’s house afterwards. We originally called it a small group for lack of a better term, but it’s really about hanging out and relating. It often turns into deep conversations about God and what it means to have a relationship with Jesus. Trying to understand God’s will has been a huge part of my spiritual journey. Being part of The Table facilitates that, because I see examples of God’s will being done in others. I’m learning about prayer, about what it means to follow Jesus in a way that shapes how I see the world. It’s a humbling journey. Invitation has been a big part of this journey — Tyler inviting me to The Table, Brad inviting me to his house, me inviting others. Sometimes it’s important to speak an invitation, but sometimes you can wear it on your sleeve. I try to have a personality that attracts people and makes it known the proverbial door is always open. Sometimes I tell my story. I say, “This is my experience, and what you do with it is up to you.” Then their response becomes their choice. But it’s still a form of invitation.
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hree years ago, when my oldest daughter was only three weeks old, my cousin invited me to a Mom’s Morning event at CPC. I liked connecting with moms who wanted faith to be part of their lives as parents. I started getting more involved in Mom’s Morning and eventually joined the leadership team. It’s been a great experience for me. Outside of church, I’m also a part of an Early Childhood Family Education (ECFE) group of seven moms. After meeting with them for awhile, I had become close to them on a mom level, but I wasn’t sure where most of them were in terms of faith. So I started emailing the group every once in awhile: “No worries if you’re not interested, but I go to this Mom’s Morning group at my church, and it has been a great experience for me. I care about you all and wanted you to know about it!” All but one of the moms I’ve asked at some point have joined me to attend at least one large group meeting. Mom’s Morning is an attractive idea. There are lots of opportunities to know moms at a deeper level if you want to, but you can also just come to the large group and enjoy
the speakers. They cover everything from how to feed your kids healthy foods to how to exercise when you’re a busy mom. Because it’s not an intimidating setting, it wasn’t very hard for me to ask people who are already my good friends. I would say, “Just come, and if you don’t like it, you don’t have to come back.” But I also take care in my emails not to be
threatening. Even in person, I’ll say, “I know I’ve totally been bombarding your inbox with emails, but if you don’t want to go, I totally get it!” I do make clear that it’s faith-based, but I also make sure they know that there is no pressure to fit in a mold. After some of my ECFE friends got used to the large group setting, I started asking them if they’d be September 2012 Issue
interested in joining a small group. But each asked me, “Okay, but which small group would I be put in? Would I know anybody?” My own group was full with 11 people, so I initiated the idea to branch off to start one that would be open to new people. As soon as I told my friends I would be leading a new group, two of them committed to join and two are very interested. And that’s great because two of my ECFE friends are regular churchgoers, but I’m not sure where the others are on their faith journeys. I’ve always been an inviter, almost to a fault. If I think something’s great, I want everyone else to experience it, too! And Mom’s Morning is the best thing I’ve ever connected to in terms of my faith. I’ve learned a lot about being a Christian parent. So I was intentional about looking around at the moms in my life. I saw my neighbor who works full time and has no mom’s group to connect to. Or I thought of my sister-in-law who’s a new mom and is feeling totally isolated in Woodbury. I told them both, “Come to Mom’s Morning and you’re going to feel uplifted, connected, and fed every Wednesday.” And that has made a difference.
Faith Story:
Bruce Locklear Edina High School Principal
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grew up in the Deep South in pretty intense poverty. My father was Native American and my mother was white, and it wasn’t a fun thing to be of mixed blood in those days. I witnessed a lot of anger and hatred. My first exposure to church came through a woman I called Aunt Bernice. I was 12, and my family was unchurched. But Aunt Bernice picked me up every Sunday morning and took me to Sunday School. I had to memorize Bible verses — and it was work! Around the age of 13, I turned my life over to Christ. Still, I was a troubled kid and a naughty student. Again, God brought someone into my life to transform my future. A teacher named Doris Johnson looked at me one day and said, “You can either choose to do something with your life or you can stay in McColl, South Carolina, and be a nobody.” When I asked her what she meant, she said, “You need to go to college.” I told her my dad was a 6th grade dropout and my mom struggled to finish high school; I didn’t know anything about college. She helped me fill out an application to Florence Darlington Community College, and she even gave me money for the application. She changed my life. Every time I graduated from college, got another degree, earned my doctorate, and went into education, I wrote her a letter and said, “Ms. Johnson, thank you. You made a difference.”
I came to Edina High School six years ago from Delano. That first year, I was invited to speak at CPC for a group called Moms of Teens. I was blown away by the environment. To see these mothers come together and pray their teens through school and life touched my heart. CPC later invited me to talk to a men’s group, and again everyone was so welcoming. My wife and I were still attending a church in Delano. But two-and-a-half years ago, we made CPC home.
“I know who I am: I am a child of God. I know God loves me and I love God.” Sometimes it’s hard to have a public job like I do. You can go to church and still be seen as “the principal.” But at CPC, I’ve been welcomed as just Bruce or Doc Loc. I like that my life overlaps as a CPC member and as principal. I enjoy seeing kids or parents at church, and if I have a need from school on my heart, I have people to take it to. This place is so Spirit-filled, prayerful, and engaged. I try to model care and thoughtfulness, as well as hard work and dedication. I am often seen in the hallways and October 2012 Issue
lunchroom talking with students and asking them about their day. It sends a message that I care about them as an individual and not just someone who attends the high school. I’m very aware of the line between being a principal in a secular school and sharing my faith at school, and I don’t cross that line. At the same time, Christ’s love is such a big part of my life, hopefully it shines through. When I see kids from difficult backgrounds or kids who get in a lot of trouble, I’m able to say, “Been there, done that.” I’m empathetic. Some kids don’t know how to get around the roadblocks in their lives. The best thing I can do is sit down with them and help them discover hope. Hope is a very precious commodity and we can lose it so quickly. But hope can lead to aspiration and then to success — and all of a sudden, failure is removed from the equation. My favorite verse is Isaiah 40:31. The verse epitomizes challenges — but, even more, it epitomizes where we gain our strength. Our strength is from the Lord! With His strength, we’re able to mount on wings of eagles. I’ve faced a lot of challenges in my lifetime. I have lost both of my parents and my only brother. But on this journey, I’ve learned faith, learned prayer, and I’ve learned hope. Each morning, my best prayer room is my car. I have a 30-minute commute, and I pray my way here. I pray for my day, the interactions I’ll have with people, and that I’ll be able to say and do the right things. I ask God to be with my wife and my girls, and for safety and guidance for our students. I pray for hope and constant direction for me — because I need all the help I can get! People trust me to serve their kids; I don’t take that lightly. There have been some tough things we’ve had to navigate as a school and district. It’s in the trials that we need something to cling to. Faith isn’t really faith until it’s all you have left to hang onto. Those are the moments you turn inward and ask yourself: what’s my core, what am I centered on? I know who I am: I am a child of God. I know God loves me and I love God. And really nothing else matters.
her illness. Think of how God protected my health. He also provided people to meet every need, whether it was staying with Jeanne on Monday nights while I was at Community Bible Study or helping around the house. I’ve thought a lot about what good can come out of Jeanne’s death. She had an awful disease; what’s the good in that? But if one person came to Jeanne’s service and in any way was touched and accepted Christ, it would have all been worth it. I give tapes of that service to friends, some of whom aren’t believers. You never know what God might do.
Faith Story:
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Gene Haman
y wife, Jeanne, and I joined CPC in 1968 after moving from Omaha. Our kids were four and two, so they truly grew up at CPC. Then they raised their kids here. It’s a blessing to have three Haman generations at CPC. Early on, Jeanne and I taught Sunday School. I’ve also had the opportunity to serve on the Session and in many other pockets of this church. This fall, I’m finally doing Lay Care training. I joke that choir is the only group I’ll never be in! One of the biggest blessings of my time at CPC has been going on mission trips. I first went to Africa in 1991, which led to identifying Rakai, Uganda — the birthplace of AIDS — as a key partnership for CPC. Not much was known about AIDS in the early 90s, but we saw villages dying and felt called there. CPC members eventually sponsored 1,500 kids in Rakai over 15 years. Jeanne and I met our sponsored child, Rosette. The first time, she was eight and the primary caregiver for her siblings. Six years later I returned and she told me, “I’ve given my life to Christ.”
Jeanne and I had a firstborn son, Greg, who died in 1964 from a drowning accident. The experience of losing him suddenly — he was with us one minute and gone 15 minutes later — taught Jeanne and me early on that every day is a gift from God. You never know what tomorrow will bring. We also started doing Bible study. In your 20s, you tend not to think about eternal life a lot, but we wanted to understand what God says about heaven.
To be able to give, do missions, and serve is really an appreciation for all God has given me. Jeanne died in March of this year after a four-year battle with Progressive Supranuclear Palsy (PSP), a form of “Parkinson’s Plus.” Jeanne lost mobility and the ability to speak. It was difficult for her even to give a thumbs-up or down. To not be able to communicate with your partner is devastating. But God was faithful throughout those hard years. I was Jeanne’s primary caregiver, and I wasn’t sick a single day during November 2012 Issue
One of the verses we read at Jeanne’s funeral was from John 14: “I go to prepare a place for you, and if I go to prepare a place for you I will come back and take you to be with Me. I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life.” God has prepared a place for us and asks us to trust in Him. I fail all the time at doing that, but God is forgiving and hopefully I overcome some of my bad habits so I can be a blessing. That even goes back to Genesis: we are blessed to be a blessing. If we are a follower of Christ, we should be a blessing to others. That’s why giving and stewardship are important to me. Giving is a matter of the heart. It’s about setting priorities. Jeanne and I got on track back in the 70s and 80s to give 10%. That’s still my commitment — at least that much. I don’t know how you put a value on the blessings we’ve received. You cannot out-give God. He has always been faithful to our family. To be able to give, do missions, and serve is really an appreciation for all God has given me and enabled me to do. What a joy to be helpful to others, be a light for them, and try to walk the talk of faith. I have lived a blessed life, even though that has come with the sadness of losing a partner like Jeanne and a son who was only with us four years. It’s a comfort to know Jeanne has been made whole again. She can laugh, dance, talk. And she and Greg are reunited. I know I’ll see them again. Until then, I’m determined to make every day count and serve however I can. At Jeanne’s funeral, we read one of the quotes she had framed on her wall: “I’ll never pass this way again, so if there’s any good that I can do, let me do it now.” I try to live that out every day.
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bout 12 years ago, I read in the Star Tribune that CPC had tripled in size in one year. I figured something special was happening here, so the very next Sunday my mom and I came to a service. We knew instantly — even before the opening song was over — that CPC was the place for us. My husband and I were married here and our three kids baptized here. This church has been so instrumental in what we’ve become as a family. My faith really deepened in Mom’s Morning. The speakers were phenomenal, and I started recruiting other women I knew. I’ve brought in at least a dozen people over the years. Once I got a good chunk of my neighbors involved, we started a small group with other moms, which I lead. As a leader, I’m determined to be transparent and vulnerable. I don’t have all the answers, so why pretend I do? As moms, we need to know it’s okay to struggle, and that we need each other’s prayer and support.
I remember John Crosby once saying that coming to church is like going to the locker room. We fight the good fight all week and come to the locker room a little bruised, aching for a pep talk. Then it’s time to get back out there and bring the encouragement into the world.
“I want my kids to know that God is with them every day — that He’s not just for Wednesdays and Sundays.” As a family, we love to do Adopt-A-Family and Thanksgiving Harvest together. These have been really important, fun ways for my kids to learn what it means to share God’s love with others. I tell them we are being the hands and feet of Christ. Stories Issue | January/February 2013
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Lately I’ve been trying to be really proactive about being thankful. As a mom of three, I tend not to get much restful sleep! I wake up many times a night, and I used to get upset about it. But lately I’ve been using that time to pray. I look for things to thank God for — no matter what. Like, my daughter got sick the other night, but I thanked God that we were home, that she was in her own bed, that she was comfortable and going to be okay. I find my whole outlook changes when I look intentionally for God’s blessings. I want my kids to know that God is with them every day — that He’s not just for Wednesdays and Sundays. If a kid isn’t nice to them at school or they get their feelings hurt, I remind them God wants to hear from them. I tell them, “When you’re frustrated, go to Him. When you’re happy, thank Him. When you’re discouraged, ask for His guidance.” I want Jesus to be part of their every day, just as I’m trying to make Him part of mine.
Stories Issue | January/February 2013
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married my college girlfriend at CPC in 1970, with Roger Anderson officiating. Our marriage was never what either of us wanted, and it ended after eight years. I was very focused on my career from the get-go. I wanted to be on the fast-track, to make money. I bought real estate, had side businesses, carried two pagers. We had a daughter early in our marriage, and she was was the light of my life. But I also kept pushing for wealth and success. Those things made me feel strong. My body was always strong, too. I was an athlete — swimmer, football player, marathoner. In 1990, I started having problems running and was diagnosed with osteoarthritis, or deterioration of the bones. A year-and-a-half later, I had both hips replaced. I remember being in the hospital, connected to a contraption that didn’t let me roll or move. That’s when it dawned on me that maybe God wanted me to slow down and listen to Him. I had been somewhat involved in church, but my eyes were closed. I felt like God was saying, “It’s time we talked.” I started attending Bible Study Fellowship and my eyes opened to the joy of following Jesus Christ. The hip replacements were the first of nine surgeries I had on my hips, back, and wrists between 1992-2009. My biggest surgery was in 1998, when surgeons spent 11 hours putting rods, hooks, and screws into my spine, fusing me from T10 to L5. Six years later they took the rods out. My neurosurgeon says the technical term for my back is “mush.” I live every day with chronic pain, whether I sit, stand, walk, or sleep. The pain is actually get-
Bill Davis ting worse, which scares me. But this journey with pain has also taught me the comfort God offers is about more than health. The year 2001 was the start of my financial downfall. I had a seven-figure net worth, but faced three margin calls and bad business deals, and everything went away fast. I was selling things to survive, like my mother’s silver, fraternity rings, wedding rings. The process was painful — but also opened my eyes to how much I relied on belongings to feel better about myself. Matthew 6 talks about not storing up treasures on earth, and that’s just what I had done.
“I felt like God was saying, ‘It’s time we talked.’ I started attending Bible Study Fellowship and my eyes opened to the joy of following Jesus Christ.” These hard losses in my life — my marriage, health, money — have made God more real to me. I need Him more. God is not a distant figure, He is my living, breathing Father in heaven. He has provided all I need; in Him I trust. He has taught me contentment in Him alone! CPC has been an amazing anchor along the way. One day, when I was particularly overwhelmed, I drove to CPC to go to the Chapel and pray. I remember meeting with CPC staff and just crying. I can’t tell you how much it has meant to have CPC as a place of prayer and support on the journey.
Stories Issue | January/February 2013
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When I was first asked to be a CPC Elder, I told John Crosby I’m not much of a talker. He said, “We have lots of chiefs in this place. We need Indians, too.” That’s been my mission ever since — to find practical ways to serve. Every Sunday, I’m outside helping people get out of cars and the senior bus. I usher at memorial services. On Wednesday nights, I direct traffic in the parking lot so as to keep kids safe. It’s a zoo out there! Sometimes on Sundays during a service, I have to lie down in the prayer room because the pain gets so bad. But I love every minute I’m here. It gives me peace and joy to let God use me. I have a piece of paper hanging in my bedroom that says, “What am I here for?” I read it every day and I always answer the same: “I am here to serve.” My daughter and grandkids are God’s greatest gifts to me. I see them at least once a week and I’m determined to be a viable entity in those kids’ lives until they’re out of college. That doesn’t mean sitting in a chair with a kid on my knee. I have to be playing baseball, throwing balls. We play tag on CPC’s playground and I’m always “It.” Even in my pain, I keep running so those grandkids know how much I delight in them. Someday, when I can afford it, I’ll buy a niche in the Memorial Prayer Garden at CPC for when I die. This church has been my home in so many ways and it will give my daughter a place she can come, sit in quiet, and talk to me. My greatest desire is that, someday, I’ll see my daughter walk through the gates of heaven. I’ll be waiting just inside with my flags! In this life and the next, I’m determined to live fully for Christ.
Megan VanderVlucht
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ntil I was 19, I hadn’t experienced anything that hugely tested my faith. So the spring of my freshman year I prayed a bold prayer: that God would teach me to trust and rely on Him fully. One month into my summer break, I woke up to find my toes numb. By the end of that day, the numbness had jumped to my hands. Three days later — after several misdiagnoses, a trip to the ER for dehydration, and five botched spinal taps — I was admitted to the hospital for Guillain-Barre Syndrome, an autoimmune syndrome that can result in permanent numbness or paralysis. At my lowest point, I was paralyzed from the waist down and on the left half of my face.
“I read Proverbs 3:5-6 as a reminder to trust in the Lord with all my heart as He directs my paths.” I was in the hospital that summer for one month, including eight days in the ICU. I was always conscious of what was going on but totally dependent on others. I had no choice but to rely on God and trust His plan and timing. I had truly never needed Him so much. And He protected me; I was back at college that fall, fully recovered and even playing flag football. I’m still trying to live with the same kind of reliance and trust in God’s timing. I’m 26, and a lot of my friends are getting married and having children. I feel like I’m ready for that chapter to begin in my life, too. But I have to trust God’s plan is better than anything I create for myself. I read Proverbs 3:5-6 as a reminder to trust in the Lord with all my heart as He directs my paths. I’m part of a CPC small group of other unmarried girls in their 20s, and we love sharing life and faith together in this season. I work in HR at General Mills. I’m part of a group called “Work as Worship” where we meet twice a month to talk about how to integrate faith into our work lives. Our topics range from evangelism to finances. We read Scripture and pray. This month, two senior leaders from General Mills who are Christians are coming to share their perspectives. I want to work in such a way people can tell that I’m living for more than my job.
Stories Issue | January/February 2013
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Bonito Cadja
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was born in the African country of Benin, which is between Togo and Nigeria. I lived most of my early life in Togo. I am the second of seven children. Our home was crowded but fun — until the week before I was 12, and my mother died suddenly. My father couldn’t handle us all, so we kids were spread to the homes of other relatives. We changed guardians three times after the loss of our mother.
My mother was buried on my 12th birthday. I still remember how horrible it was to watch my best friend go underground. Just a few months prior, I had accepted Jesus and was baptized. My family wasn’t religious, but I attended a church-run school where we read the Bible. After my mother died, my life became very difficult. My father and I did not have a good relationship. I struggled with anger and doubt about the God I had newly committed to trust. Looking back, I see God was always protecting me; there’s no other explanation for how I was spared from falling into evil. Things got better once I went to vocational school in my 20s. I got a job as a computer programmer and, one day, while coming back from a meeting, I passed a woman on the road. In Africa, you sometimes offer rides to people, so I invited her on my motorcycle. I thought she was beautiful. Her name was Huguette, and we’ve now been married nearly 15 years. Our first daughter was born in Togo, but the country was becoming less stable and safe, so in 2001 we moved to the United States to seek a brighter future. We picked Minnesota because I had a brother who lived in Brooklyn Park. It was not an easy transition. I didn’t know any English. In the U.S., you cannot work without legal papers, and I hadn’t realized how difficult it would be to get the documentation. I could not work for a year. At some points we relied on food shelves — which, years later, were the same food shelves I delivered meals to as a CPC Deacon on the Thanksgiving Harvest committee. I found CPC because I typed “Presbyterian church” in Google. My primary school in Africa had been Presbyterian so I knew that word. I came to CPC for the first time in the summer of 2004. Everyone was smiling and welcoming. People came to us and said, “How are you? Are you from around here?” We were greeted personally every week. I think CPC treats people like human beings — not white or of color, American or African. I see the level of commitment people have to this church, and I want to give back, too. That’s how I became a Deacon. When I’m at CPC, I’m at the happiest place I could be. Today I work for United Healthcare and my wife works for Wells Fargo. We live in Burnsville and our three children go to Edina schools. We are where we are today because of God’s goodness and protection. I want to thank my Lord for how He has saved me. I love serving in His house, but the truth is that I have received more than I have given. My prayer is that I keep serving Him.
Stories Issue | January/February 2013
Stories Issue | January/February 2013
Kristin Jackson
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used to hesitate when asked to share my faith story. I know the story I wish I could tell. I wish I could say I’ve known Jesus since I was little. Then I might not have made the bad choices I did. But I know my mistakes are also what Jesus ultimately used to draw me to Him. After college, I was hired as a flight attendant for Northwest Airlines. Northwest was going to base me in Honolulu; the summer before I left, I had a casual fling with a guy here in Minneapolis. Alcohol played a big part in our dates, and I don’t remember whether we saw each other two or three times. Two weeks after I moved to Honolulu I found out I was pregnant. The news rocked me. My first thought was how disappointed my parents would be, because they had raised me with strong morals. I confided in a roommate in Hawaii and she said she’d had an abortion in college and was able to move on from it. She said I could do the same. I called the guy who got me pregnant and he freaked. “I cannot have a baby!” he told me. I said, “Well, I can’t either, because my parents can’t know! And I’m just starting my career!”
didn’t know how to turn to God with it. I looked to other things to take away the pain. Within a few weeks, I was dating a guy in the Marines. He found out about the abortion because I was still having issues with bleeding. We never had a healthy relationship, but I stayed in it for two-and-a-half years. Soon after it ended, I dated another man, whom I married. The marriage brought me back to Minneapolis, but we were divorced in less than a year. I was so broken at that time, making such stupid decisions, desperate to find happiness. After my divorce, I finally hit bottom. I felt so defeated and hopeless. I told my parents everything. I fell to my knees in prayer. That was the start of me reaching out to Jesus.
“I remember thinking, ‘No one knows what I just did.’ But I knew — and it felt like a deep ache.”
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someone had been pressing down my shoulders and all of sudden lifted their hands. I felt a rush of forgiveness. I married my wonderful husband, Todd, 15 years ago. We struggled with infertility for several years, plus a miscarriage and an ectopic pregnancy. I sometimes thought God was punishing me for my abortion. Instead Jesus kept showing me His grace. When I was 29-weeks pregnant with our son, Ben, I was rushed to the hospital and thought I would deliver that night. The date was October 30, 2003 — exactly 13 years after I’d had my abortion. They stabilized the situation and God used the next six weeks in the hospital to reveal to me the preciousness of life in the womb. I also felt Him saying to me, “Look how you’re here this time nurturing a life, how you’re doing everything you can to keep this baby safe.” It was healing to see myself in that way.
The same week this was happening, Northwest temporarily assigned me to Memphis. I started to mentally fall apart. I called an employee assistance line and said I needed help. They connected me with a clinic in Memphis.
My mom and sister had begun attending Bible Studies at CPC, and I saw the impact it was having on their life. I joined a Bible Study called “The Search for Significance.” One Wednesday at a CPC class, I had a deep sense of God’s presence. As I sat in a group of people, I felt God saying, “Give your heart over to me.” I made the decision to put my trust in Jesus and give Him my life.
It was also healing when, in July of this year, I had the opportunity to meet with the man who fathered the baby 22 years ago. I tried to let go of any expectations before I met him, unsure if he had ever thought of those events. It turned out he had. What had happened between us — both the unhealthy nature of our relationship and the abortion choice — had impacted him and his relationships since. I was able to share a little of my faith journey with him. Then I was able to walk away with a sense of peace. I pray for his healing, too.
October 30, 1990 was the day I had an abortion. I was 24 years old, probably 8 or 10 weeks pregnant. I took a hotel van to the clinic and a taxi back to the hotel. I was all by myself. The procedure was . . . really icky. And it hurt, even though they said it wouldn’t. I remember getting a drink in the hotel bar that night, looking around at the people and Halloween decorations, and thinking, “Nobody knows what I just did.” But I knew — and it felt like a deep ache. I had no faith then, so I
I found out about a local post-abortion support group called “Conquerors.” I went into it determined no one would convince me I took a life. I think I was still running away, trying to hang onto a comfort that I hadn’t done anything wrong. Conquerors revealed to me God’s grace; I was finally able to release what I had done into His hands. At the last session, we read letters to our children. As I finished reading mine, I felt this clear sensation of something lifted off my back — like
I’ve learned Jesus has always been loving me, even when I didn’t know Him, even when I was making bad choices. Today I feel completely forgiven. That doesn’t mean there aren’t times I’m grieved about the decisions I made. But I also believe I have Jesus in my life today because of them. That’s the wonder of God’s love and grace. Despite once taking a life, I now have new life with Jesus in my heart. I love to tell others to choose life — abundant life with Him, Christ Jesus!
Stories Issue | January/February 2013
Lou Rueff
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y husband, Bob, and I started attending CPC 20 years ago, when we were in our 60s. Our first introduction to CPC was at a wedding Rich Phenow officiated. He had such an inviting, loving quality and made everyone feel part of something special. We knew CPC was a place to find real community and we’ve been coming ever since. Our marriage is stronger because of CPC. My husband and I took a “Christianity 101” class and it kicked off spiritual conversations that really haven’t ever stopped. We now connect on a deeper, spiritual level. We are always learning through Sunday sermons and classes. We love to deliver meals through the Helping Hands ministry. I’ve been part of the Memorial Services committee. And I’ve been volunteering as a receptionist in the CPC office for 13 years. They call me “Tuesday Lou.” A central theme in my life is a commitment to stay positive, to choose to be a person of hope. My mother’s favorite saying was, “This too shall pass.” I’ve adopted the same outlook. Even as we face challenges, I find that if we trust Christ and stay positive, there is nothing we can’t overcome. Oh, I can get down, but God has given me so much to be thankful for.
“A central theme in my life is a commitment to stay positive, to choose to be a person of hope.” When my husband was 55, he had a brain tumor and surgery that left half his face paralyzed. I’ll tell you, we did a lot of praying through that, but God provided a therapist who tirelessly helped my husband to re-train his facial muscles. God always provides! God has also provided us with three wonderful, supportive children and the two best “grandbabes” ever! My favorite hymn is “The Borning Cry.” Every verse is a reminder that, from the time we are born until we “shut our weary eyes,” God is with us and watching over us. I look forward to the rest of my life with excitement. I’m 80; women in my family have lived well into their 90s. I hope to see 100!
Stories Issue | January/February 2013
Clayton Ellis
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his November, John Crosby baptized me in front of a packed Sanctuary. It was one of the most meaningful days of my life. When he asked why I wanted to be baptized, I said, “I want to declare my faith in God and that I believe in the Lord Jesus Christ as my Savior and Guide. This seals my commitment, trust, and faith in the Lord. I want to be a role model and a rock for my family.” It meant a lot to say that with my wife, kids, mom, and best friend looking on. I think of that baptism as a public declaration that, from here on, I’m fully committed to following God. My kids, ages 8 and 11, will be baptized at CPC in January. Their faith has come alive in the last few months. My son, Caylor, received a 2nd Grade Bible at CPC this fall. Whenever he gets scared, he grabs the Bible and asks me to read with him. He says he knows God will protect him. My baptism also felt like a seal of commitment to be part of the CPC community. I’m so, so happy I found this church. My family has been coming for eight months and we have felt incredibly welcomed. My father died unexpectedly while I was in the New Member class, and people really came around us. I’m so eager to invest in this community, to contribute and serve, and for my family to grow in our faith together here.
Stories Issue | January/February 2013
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Faith Story:
Tricia DeVries
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y parents were missionaries, and I spent the first five years of my life in Korea. When I was 8, my father — who was a pediatrician — felt led to the Delta region of Mississippi because it had the highest infant mortality rate in the nation. The poverty there in the 1970s was what you would expect in a third world country. We arrived the first year of forced integration in the South, so when I came to school with my Northern accent, kids blamed me for the changes being forced on them. Our whole family had a hard time. We couldn’t get a phone hooked up at our house for a year. I remember kids yelling, “Go back to where you came from! We don’t want you Yankees here!” In the midst of my loneliness, I remember one day on the playground praying to Jesus. In that moment, Jesus became deeply real to me, and it was like He was there holding my hand. I spent the next several years certain Jesus was my best friend. But by high school, I was still struggling to fit in with other kids, and I fell into immoral behavior so kids would accept me. My parents learned about my double life, confronted me, and I recommitted my life to Jesus at age 15. I realized I was looking for significance in what people thought of me, not from Jesus. It’s a lesson I’ve had to relearn several times in my life. I married Bob shortly after college, and we settled in the Twin Cities. We have two kids. Being a parent is always an exercise in trusting God. But my son
has faced challenges that have made trusting God even more difficult for me. When he was in 3rd grade, he was diagnosed with learning disabilities and depression. To watch my son struggle was incredibly painful. It was difficult to get through a day. I battled overwhelming fear for his safety and well-being. I had to cling to the Lord for strength moment by moment, trying to fix my eyes on Jesus, even as I felt like fear was driving my life. My son gradually improved and became more stable. And it was after that, in my late 30s, that I dropped into my
“Through those darkest times, one of the key things I learned about God was the constancy of His love for me.” own deep depression. For some people, depression is a time when things feel so numb they withdraw from prayer or journaling. But my depression was marked by both numbness and deep spiritual turmoil. Every day I was crying out to God and pouring out my heart on paper: “God, are You even good? Do You care? Because I’m suffering so much and so is my son!” I was in a lifeand-death wrestling match about the nature of God. During this time, I was also a leader in Bible Study Fellowship. I didn’t
March 2013 Issue
feel right teaching others about God while I was depressed and doubting whether God was even good. But the BSF Teaching Leader told me not to step down because God could use me in my great brokenness. My instinct was to hide, but God kept showing me He was in this with me. The year I was most depressed, a woman at BSF said, “You are always so joyful and happy!” I laughed and said, “Do you know that I have been severely depressed this year, but God has lifted the depression every Tuesday morning for BSF? Praise be to God!” I was also in two prayer groups that met weekly. Every week I was sobbing, and finally someone asked, “What is it that you want us to pray for you? What do you want?” I said, “I can’t think of a single thing. I just need Jesus.” They laid their hands on me, pleading to God on my behalf while crying. I had to leave before we were done to pick up my son from school. On the drive there, I felt my depression lift in a palpable way. That was a turning point. Through those darkest times, one of the key things I learned about God was the constancy of His love for me. I never once felt His displeasure, even when I was angry and acting like a spoiled child. I remember [former CPC pastor] Dave Stark saying there is nothing you can do to make God love you more and nothing you can do to make God love you less. That was hugely transformative for me. I’ve always felt I had to work hard and measure up to merit love. But I can’t measure up; none of us can. That’s why we need Jesus. Jesus came to this earth to claim us, die for us, and pay the price for us. I don’t have to keep trying so hard; His love holds me tight and will never let me go. It is been such a privilege to serve as a CPC deacon, to be involved in the different outreach ministries of this church. One of the reasons we chose CPC over other churches is because of the mission budget and the commitment to serving the poor. Growing up in the Delta in the 1970s definitely gave me a heart for the poor. I know CPC’s commitment is to come alongside people and help, not to be a rich church with all the answers. This rings true to me as an illustration of the Gospel: we love because of Christ’s love for us.
From left to right: Erik Hadland, Eric Stevens, Katie Larson, Brianna Gustafson (on a stick), Chris Smith, Seth & Alyssa Warren (on a stick), Maria Hoekstra, Mary Nichols
When God Weaves Together . . .
people ministering to teens also get together outside Wednesdays. The four guys and I meet two Sundays a month to check in and encourage each other. The girls have grown really close. And the whole group gets together socially and shares prayer requests or updates during the week. One thing we talk about a lot is how to be people who are welcoming. We want to be inclusive, pointing people toward the Kingdom of God. I don’t always do that very well, but I’m very aware this isn’t my group or Mary’s group: it’s our group, and everybody is welcome. We need each other; the sum of the parts is better than the individual.
Every Wednesday night, a group of nine young adults lead small groups for high school juniors. Organized by Chris Smith and Mary Nichols, this House Group of 20-somethings has built community with each other that has grown beyond just leading the high schoolers. y role, along with Mary Nichols, is to be a resource and support to the small group leaders as they lead their kids. At 35, I’m about ten years older than most of the other leaders, so I feel a little like their peer and a little like a role model. None of us knew each other before the Student Ministries team put us together. But we quickly found common ground:
we want to invest in these high school kids and learn from each other. Fortunately, we found we really like each other, too. I don’t have to steer too hard. On Wednesday nights, we meet an hour before the high school kids arrive so we can share a meal and talk through the night’s Bible lesson. We pray for each other and our groups. Mary and I facilitate this time, and then the leaders go into small groups with the kids. We March 2013 Issue
I think every one of us had prayed to find intentional Christian community — and then God did this beautiful thing in pulling us together. This group has filled a need we all had, not just for fellowship but fellowship with other Christians who are roughly the same age. Our commonality is Jesus and a desire to serve high schoolers. How has it worked out so well? The grace of God. This group holds me accountable, helps me understand the power of prayer, and makes me more conscientious of certain spiritual disciplines. I’m better for it.
Chris Smith works for AmeriPrise Financial. He ended a trip to Utah early to be part of this picture, making a pit stop to create cutout pictures of the three group members who couldn’t come.
Grief Recovery meets the second Tuesday of each month for fellowship, prayer, and sharing a meal. They welcome anyone who has lost a loved one. n 2005, I became engaged to Dean Lumbar. One month later, he was diagnosed with colon cancer. It shouldn’t have been a big deal; there was only one polyp when they discovered it. We got married after Dean’s first week of chemo. I remember him saying, “You don’t still have to marry me.” But I told him, “Isn’t that the point? In sickness and health? We’re just doing it earlier than most people.” We were married in the CPC Chapel and decided to start a family right away. At that point, Dean was responding beautifully to chemotherapy. I became pregnant and we found out we were having identical twin boys. We decided to name them Peter and Phillip. Twenty weeks into my pregnancy, I started going in for weekly appointments and testing. The boys always passed with flying colors, and Dean was with me at every single appointment. His own cancer was in remission at the time. The only appointment he missed was my 35-week check-up. Dean had another appointment that day, and I encouraged him to go: “You haven’t missed one of my check-ups. Everything is fine!” At the ultrasound that day, I watched the nurses get really quiet. Then they brought me into a March 2013 Issue
I now co-lead CPC’s Grief Recovery group. Each month we have a speaker lead a devotional, and we pray for one another. We also sit around a table and share a meal. A CPC member named Mary Mentzer volunteers to cook for us, and it’s a huge gift. As we share a meal, we share our stories. Grief can be very isolating, and it’s important to create a space where we can talk about what’s hard, or listen to someone else, or just extend an empathetic nod. We never know how the night is going to unfold; that’s where God’s Spirit works.
larger ultrasound room with someone else. Since I’m a nurse I knew how to read the screen. I said, “I see Peter. I see Phillip and his spine . . . but I don’t see Phillip’s heartbeat.” The nurses looked at me and said, “We don’t either.” I went numb. I called Dean and said, “Phillip is gone.” “What do you mean he’s gone?” Dean asked. I could only repeat, “He’s gone, he’s gone . . . .” Dean rushed to my side and the doctors took me in for an emergency C-section. At 10:55PM on April 24, 2007, my sons were born. God provided a photographer who volunteered her time to capture those precious first moments. She captured the moments I didn’t get to see of Dean holding his two sons — one healthy and one stillborn — for the first time. The camera captured both the joy and anguish on his face. How do you experience life and death at the same time? [CPC pastor] Dan Anderson came and baptized Phillip that night. There was just this beautifully profound moment when Dan was praying and laid his hand on Phillip. Everyone followed suit and the photographer captured that, too. It’s one of my very favorite pictures because it shows my baby boy with the hands of all the people who loved him. A few months later, Dean and I attended CPC’s Grief Recovery group for the first time. We didn’t know it then, but it was within months of Dean’s death. After we lost Phillip, I think Dean gave up his will to live. His cancer had been in remission, but something inside him broke after he lost his son. He didn’t
fight as hard. The cancer metastasized to his liver and it was an aggressive cancer subtype. One night Dean looked at me and said, “It’s not going to be today, but it will be tomorrow.” He died the next day. Dean was coherent to the end and literally died in my arms. His last words were, “I love you.” Dean’s death came eight months after Phillip’s. So I was 35 years old, the mother of an infant, and grieving the death of my husband and other son. I started going to Grief Recovery at CPC every month. It was amazing how God brought people around me who would become such a significant part of my life. I grew close to six other women who came to Grief Recovery, ranging in age from our 30s to 70s. Our only common denominator was having experienced loss, but we understood something deep about each other. We kept going to Grief Recovery and also met outside the group. We called ourselves the “GGs” for “Grief Girls.” I always say it was God’s hand that brought us together. There were days I thought I would never laugh again. I felt stuck in a valley and certain I would never be up on a mountain or in sunshine again. But the GGs kept walking with me, and I with them. And God kept showing us His incredible love. Over time, our tears evolved into laughter. One night at a restaurant, the GGs were having such fun that the waiter asked how we knew each other. We laughed and said we were part of a grief group. He looked confused and said we didn’t look like we were doing much grieving! March 2013 Issue
Without the community I found through Grief Recovery I can’t imagine where I’d be today. I’d still be wandering in those dark valleys. God brought me to where I needed to be and put others around me. And that’s what I needed to open myself to receive His abundant blessings. Those blessings have come in the form of a new husband, Tom, and our son, Jack, who was born 14 months ago. Imagine how hard it would be to walk into a situation with a young widow who did not want to lose her husband and find a way to honor Dean and my love for him. But Tom has done it beautifully. Looking back over these past eight years, I never imagined God would call me to use my pain to help other people walk through theirs. Some people come to Grief Recovery grieving a child, others are young women who lost husbands; I’m unique because I can relate to both those stories. But we can all learn from each other. Everyone has a story of loss of some kind. And, through Christ-centered community, we can heal together.
Annie Lumbar Bendson works part-time as a nurse. She is one of 12 CPC Lay Care Ministers who volunteer with the Grief Recovery ministry.
“These Tuesday nights are a holy ground. God knits us together and reminds us we’re not alone on our journeys.” - Debbie Manning, Lay Care Pastor
From left to right: Josh Fink, Heather Hood, Becky Waters, Sara Lightbody, David Schwandt, Jordan Carlson, Matt Schwandt, Rich Larson, Lora Kassanchuk, Matt Kassanchuk
When God Weaves Together . . .
MUSICIANS
The Contemporary Worship Team — led by Rich Larson and primarily made of volunteers —plays during the 5:15PM Saturday and 11:00AM Sunday worship services. started coming to CPC last January when I became the Primary Contemporary Worship Leader. I knew I had a decision to make: I could have a whole bunch of acquaintances at CPC, or I could pour my time into fewer people resulting in deeper relationships. I decided to focus on the smaller group of people I serve with in Music Ministries. In the past, some of the musicians viewed it as a paid gig, but I’ve made a point to elicit more volunteers from within the congregation. We have been intentional about building community together. We share meals after services, play in each other’s bands, go to each other’s shows, and pray for one another. For the Saturday service, we show up at 3:00PM, hang out, practice, and pray for the service. Then, while we are cleaning up, we spend more time together. It starts all over on Sunday morning. We care about each other and want to be there for one another. I’ve been greatly encouraged by these friends.
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CPC LIFE
Our community is growing, too. Anyone is welcome to audition. We’ve even seen the group include family members. One of our guitarists, David Schwandt, invited his 20-something son to play with us. One of our drummers, Gino Giovanelli, has a son who’s a pianist. Marco is only 12 but is going to play with us one weekend in April. Creating the kind of environment where David and Gino get to share music and Christian community with their sons is really special. We also have a husband-wife duo with Matt and Lora Kassanchuk, who started playing with us after becoming CPC members. We love that! I believe it’s important that our Worship Team has strong relationships with one another and knows I’m invested in their lives both personally and musically. I’ve been in bands where leaders say, “I want you to play the part just like this.” But I give our musicians freedom to bring their own creativity to the music. God wants us each to share our gifts. Our group is special because we share a passion for music as well as a passion for Jesus and serving Him. And what a privilege to do it while leading worship! It is a joy to prepare a musical offering each week at CPC!
Rich Larson serves part-time as CPC’s Primary Contemporary Worship Leader. He is a full-time 7th grade science teacher. March 2013 Issue
“I’ve played with the band for nearly a decade, but I’ve sensed a deeper community form over the past year. When we play, we do so as a community in Christ, and we feel privileged to serve in this way.” - David Schwandt
From left to right: Linda Wigart, Ann Hotz, Patti Kratzer, Sally Larson
When God Weaves Together . . .
Women Who Pray
The Jesus Gals is a group of eight women who have met to pray together every other Friday for ten years. he Jesus Gals started ten years ago as a small group offshoot of Crosswalk, a former CPC Women’s Ministry. We each signed up for a small group and were placed together. Over the years we’ve studied books and Bible lessons but have found our focus is really as a prayer group. We come and share about our lives and meditate on Scripture using lectio divina. Then we pray. We start with prayers of worship, praising God for who He is. We offer prayers of thanksgiving and confession. Prayers of intercession are the last thing. We have been unbelievably intimate since our first meeting, when one of the women said she was miscarrying at that time, on that day. It set a tone of vulnerability that has endured ever since. We each have gone through crises over the years where this group has been critical. We’ve walked with each other through kids in rehab, losing parents, dealing with sexual abuse, the struggle of not having children. Through all these very intimate things, we can bare our souls and know we are not judged. We care for and support each other and hold each other in the presence of God.
One of the Jesus Gals was diagnosed with MS a few years ago and needed prayer just to make it through the day. Every day one of us went to pray with her. We did that for about a month — praying for relief and healing. Now her symptoms have gone into remission! We call this an “act of God,” and we’ve seen acts of God so many times. Sometimes, we’ll come to the group saying, “I need an act of God!” We have also each brought friends going through a rough time to the group so we can lay our hands on them and pray. God has done amazing things. It’s miraculous. I had been in the group for several years when I got pregnant with Kaya. At 20 weeks, we found out Kaya had a severe birth defect — a diaphragmatic hernia — and might not survive. The Jesus Gals held our family in prayer the whole time. After Kaya was born, she spent her first three months in the NICU. There were times we didn’t think she was going to make it. One bad night, I called the Jesus Gals and said, “I need prayer. There is one last medication to try, and if it doesn’t work, we’re going to lose Kaya.” The Jesus Gals rushed to the hospital and we prayed. We prayed as a group in the waiting room and, two by two, they came in to pray over Kaya. Thank God the medication worked. They prayed with me in those critical hours. As close as we are, it doesn’t mean there’s not friction between us sometimes, too. That’s part of community! March 2013 Issue
We are messy and in the middle of messy. As human beings, we are broken people and hurt each other’s feelings. We work through that, by God’s grace, and keep gathering. The greatest fruit that has come out of the Jesus Gals has been these intimate relationships. There are things you share with your girlfriends you don’t necessarily say to anybody else. You need somebody to love and care for you and support you no matter what. We can’t go through this life alone. We need to have community. God made us for that — to do this life together.
Ann Hotz is an artist and preschool teacher. She is married to Mike, one of CPC’s pastors.
“In times when I haven’t been able to believe for myself, the Jesus Gals stand with me.” - Patti Kratzer
“I go to other groups, but at Tapestry I learn about God and Jesus.” - Jessica Campbell
March 2013 Issue
When God Weaves Together . . .
Kids with Special Needs Tapestry is CPC’s ministry for kids with special needs, ages 8th grade and older. They meet twice a month on Tuesdays. Tapestry is led by CPC staff and high school students who volunteer. have been coming to Tapestry for eight years, and I love it! We do activities, learn Bible stories, and pray for people. We also do this thing called “joys and concerns” where we sit at a table, talk, and then pray. An example of a concern I shared is when my brother injured his leg. My joy is hanging out with the Tapestry group; the leaders are really great! I think there should be more leaders like Van [Chounlamountry], Jodi [Bjerke], and Kari [Dubord]. They are just really kind, helpful, and funny. They make the group really fun. And I have met new friends at Tapestry, too. I go to other groups, but at Tapestry I learn about God and Jesus. The leaders read a Bible story and we talk about it. We learned how only the Good Samaritan helped the man who got hurt, so it reminds us we need to help people. I like learning about Jesus and getting to know Him, because we’re all God’s people, and He wants us to help others.
For Valentine’s Day, Tapestry made desserts for senior citizens who were so excited. They sent us a thank you note! That is what God and Jesus want us to do: to help other people. We also had a talent show where people sang, did magic tricks, read poems, and showed their artwork. I sang three songs: “Beauty and the Beast,” “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot,” and “Pharaoh, Pharaoh.” It’s a little scary, but I know the people at Tapestry are my friends. We also did a Christmas play. I was Mary and other people were Joseph and animals and angels. We also play Bingo, and we’re going to do an Easter project. We do something fun every time. Sometimes we go out into the community and go ice-skating! I also come to CPC on Sunday and Wednesday mornings to work in the Nursery. I get to read to the little kids and play with them. I talk to them about God and Jesus, and I tell them stories like the Christmas and Easter stories. I tell them God came to earth for us and then went to the cross and died for us. He did that because it was God’s plan. He did it because He loved everybody. I’m so happy I get to come to CPC to learn this and talk about it with others.
Jessica Campbell is 22 years old, works in childcare at CPC, works at Panera, and runs a pet care business. March 2013 Issue
“As Jessica’s mom, I am so grateful she has a community where she can learn about the Lord and experience God’s love.” - Lori Nissen (mother of Jessica Campbell)
A CPCer Reflects on the Boston Marathon
Isaac Vogel
O
n April 15, I ran the Boston Marathon for the first time. Just being there felt like an achievement. Boston is definitely a marathon for marathoners. You don’t run to set a personal record so much as for the privilege of being part of this rich tradition. As I lined up with the 25,000 other runners, I knew we all felt the same way: just happy to be there. At the starting line, we observed 26 seconds of silence in honor of the victims of the Newtown shooting; 26 people had died and the marathon is 26 miles. And then at the finish line, this other horrific act of violence — the bombings — happened. What tragic bookends for a race. I see the pictures my wife took of me during the race and how big I’m smiling in all of them. I almost feel bad about that now. I finished the race about an hour before the bombs went off. My wife and I were on a train to Providence, Rhode Island, when we heard the news. Usually I stick around the finish line to cheer on other runners, but we had to leave right away to catch a flight out of Providence. Had we flown out of Boston it’s likely we would have been there when the explosions happened. After running a marathon, the temptation is to make it all about yourself, to say, “Look what I accomplished!” So I’m drawn to the fact that the people who died in the explosions were all
spectators — the very people not there for themselves. Being a spectator is a thankless deal. They rush from mile marker to mile marker to see their loved one pass by for five seconds. Even leading up to a race, spouses and family members put up with months of someone else’s training schedule. They give every bit as much as the actual runners. The fact that spectators were the ones most injured is a sobering reminder to all marathoners not to make a race all about us.
“I think that’s one of the big secrets of life: to realize daily how dependent we are on Him.” It’s the same with life. We all get so wrapped up in our own lives and getting our way. The gold standard of faith is dependence on God. Particularly in this geographical area, we have so many resources to rely on that distract us from our need for God. We put security in things that ultimately don’t matter, like our careers, financial wellbeing, or gaining approval from people. A couple months ago Pastor Crosby May 2013 Issue
gave a sermon about how maybe we shouldn’t care about being “safe” all the time. It’s in the midst of trouble that we can be most transformed. I thought that was powerful. No one is saying we should actively seek out adversity — but we do have a choice of how to respond when it comes. If we embrace it, it can be an opportunity to draw nearer to God and learn how to rely exclusively on Him for our needs. I think that’s one of the big secrets of life: to realize daily how dependent we are on Him. We’ve all heard the phrase, “It’s a marathon, not a sprint” as it pertains to life. There’s no better description for faith, too. Faith is a journey. We can’t even grasp the magnitude of what the ultimate destination will be like: eternal life in Heaven with God. What a finish line! Along the way, we do need community and the support of others. But in the end, it comes down to our own individual relationships with God. When our head hits the pillow at night, we’re alone with God, and that’s when the real discussion happens. God knows every single setback I’ve had and will have. Over my life I’ll probably have a dozen crises of faith — and that’s a modest estimate. It’s hard to live out the radical faith that the Bible clearly calls us to. I get hung up because I don’t think I live radically enough; I still take comfort in material possessions and financial resources more than I should. But God knows our hearts. We each have a choice of how we’re going to cultivate our relationship with Him in the face of adversity and scarcity, as well as in the face of joy and abundance. And that’s where we have to be ready. It’s how we respond to God that defines us. If there is one message I want to impart to my children as they grow up, it’s that God created them for something very specific and unique. He has big plans for each of us. That’s a powerful truth to impart to a kid and maybe even more powerful to hold on to as an adult. We are all going to fail our spouses, friends, and parents. We will each experience tragedy and loss. The only thing that never fails is the assurance that God is with us. And as long as He has us on this earth, He has something beautiful and unique in store for each of us.
I don’t think I am wise! But I am very conscious God is with me — I just feel He is. I think sometimes He would like to shake me, and I don’t blame Him! I pray mostly for Him to guide me and help me hold my tongue. It’s awfully easy to say what you’re thinking and then be sorry for it.
Bee scofield:
My husband passed away in January 2000. I lived in our home until 2006 and then moved to Friendship Village [senior living]. It was the right thing to do, but it was hard. I didn’t like it and still don’t. It helps that I was the one who made the decision. It was also my choice to stop driving a year later, which was also painful. I’ve tried to make all the key decisions, and that is what I’m having the hardest time with now. There are some changes my family wants me to make, and, at 95 years old, I guess I should be making, but I don’t want to. I would say the loss of control is the hardest thing for me to accept. I have to learn to release.
Wisdom Gained from Walking & Talking With God
I
turned 95 in May, and I’ve been coming to CPC since 1959. My husband, Lee, and I raised three children here, and my youngest son and his family still attend. I founded the Needlework Guild, which is still going strong, and served as “Baptism Lady,” bringing the babies forward for baptisms. And Lee was kind of a legend because he was Head Usher for 35 years. His plaid jacket still hangs in the Usher Room in the rear Sanctuary. I like to glance in there and feel like he’s still with me. I also sit in the same pew he and I always did: third row on the aisle. They better not boot me out!
It wasn’t until my late 80s that I joined the Tuesday Afternoon Bible Study [see page 5], and I can’t believe how many things I am understanding for the first time. I’ve believed in Jesus my whole life, but now I’m trying to walk with Him. I want to understand the way of life that comes from knowing Jesus. Right now we are studying Mark. We look at each passage beyond what is happening to why. I feel I’m
getting to know the people in the Bible, living with them, understanding why they are part of God’s story. These stories aren’t history; they matter now. I think wisdom involves being conscious of all the aspects of something and then knowing what to do. Not in an opinionated, pushy way, but in a way that
“I’ve believed in Jesus my whole life, but now I’m trying to walk with Him.” understands what it means to walk with God. That is hard to do. My favorite hymn is “In the Garden,” because it talks about spending time with God. The lyrics say: “He walks with me and He talks with me, and He tells me I am His own. And the things we share as we tarry there, none other has ever known. . . . ” Wisdom comes from walking and talking with God and listening to His ways. Summer 2013 Issue
As for my future, I take it day by day. My family is not a long-lived family; they all went early. I guess I’m still here because God doesn’t know what to do with me! I see each day as a gift. I don’t try to project what I want to do anymore. I know my limitations. But I know God is with me. And the most important thing to me is that my children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren know God is with them. I pray they will want to walk with Him. Bee Scofield can be found in her third-row pew most Sundays at 9:30AM, usually with a bumblebee pin on her shoulder.
somebody came to visit, we dropped everything to sit and be with them. Time wasn’t our own. That’s what people there did for me, too: pour time into me as they shared encouragement and stories, listened to me, sat through awkward silences with me over tea.
Kiersti Phenow:
I encountered so much wisdom in Africa from people just telling me their stories. Those who came from the least were full of the most love. I’ve learned that wisdom doesn’t have to be grand or a revelation. It doesn’t even come from knowing a lot and being right; it grows from making mistakes and learning lessons in beautiful but hard ways. I think wisdom grows from sharing pieces of our own heart and listening to others as they share theirs. It comes from being still long enough to see how someone follows Christ.
Learning Wisdom & Rest in Africa
I
n October of my senior year of high school, I was driving home from a miserable visit to a college when I called my family in tears. I had totally set my heart on this school but staying overnight showed me it wasn’t right. I felt overwhelmed because I had put all my eggs in this basket. So I said, “Maybe I’ll just take a year off!” I meant it as a joke — but that’s where the idea started. The rest of my senior year was kind of a dark, exhausting time. I felt burned out to the core and didn’t know how to think about college. I told a few people about the idea of taking a year off. Without even pursuing it, all these crazy connections came up and doors started opening. I didn’t necessarily feel a call. I don’t want to lie and say I heard God shout, “Go to Africa!” But there was a slow tug on my heart that said, “You can explore more of yourself. And you can take a little rest.”
plans I have right around the corner.” It was the best prayer I could read. I felt an overwhelming peace rush over me. I decided to really let go. The next day I met a woman who offered me a volunteer opportunity in Cape Town, South Africa. From January to May, I served with Africa Jam, a Christian organization focused on empowering youth to rise above their circumstances. I did counseling and taught classes in schools. The topic this year was, “Who am I?”
“I encountered so much wisdom in Africa from people just telling me their stories. . . . Wisdom doesn’t have to be grand.”
It was a long, bumpy road before I had a plan. The doors that initially opened closed. My friends left for college. In October I was still home and without a plan — and I had told people I was going to leave in November! I definitely battled my pride. I said to God, “I told people I’m going, You seemed to open doors, and now everything’s closing!”
and we talked about respecting our bodies, not bullying, and being who God created us to be. I also led a Biblebased afterschool program. I lived with a South African family in Lotus River, a low-income, violence-prone area 20 minutes outside Cape Town. It’s Afrikaans-speaking and in the “colored” part of town.
One day in mid-October, I read my devotional Jesus Calling, and it basically said, “My peace is with you. Hold on to My hand while I bring you up the mountain. You never know the
Those five months were definitely a time of slowing down and simplifying. I lived out of a suitcase. I didn’t have a clock in my room. There was a huge focus on family and hospitality, and if Summer 2013 Issue
I attended a Pentecostal church in Africa — and there was a heck of a lot more dancing than in a CPC service! It’s mind-blowing to see how much people rejoice and give thanks, no matter how little they have. That lesson is really engraved on my heart. God is enough. If He can be enough for them, He can be enough for me. Transitioning back to Minnesota is going to be hard. It’s so easy to get swept back into the current of life. I’ve done the mission trip thing where you get home on a Saturday, are back at work on a Monday, and just revert to who you were. So I’m making rest a priority this summer. I’ve decided not to get a summer job. As selfish as it sounds, if I want to make the lessons of the last five months matter, I need to be diligent about being alone and letting the experiences sink in and shape me. I’m nervous people will think I’ve done this big courageous thing going to the other side of the world. But there’s stuff I really struggled with there. It’s important to share that piece, too. There’s a lot more I could have done and didn’t. But it’s okay; it was enough. God put me there, and He stretched me in the ways He wanted to. It doesn’t mean I moved mountains and saved lives — but I was present. That’s all I really needed to be. Kiersti Phenow, age 19, plans to attend Bethel University this fall. Read more about her time in Africa on her blog: milesapartkierstiatheart.blogspot.com.
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