Well, it has sure been a minute since I visited this blog. A long minute really. Like a 9 year minute. But something has stirred a desire in my heart to write again so I thought this would be a good place to start. Let's start with an update. I'm an empty nester now. It's hard to believe, but my five sons have all left home. Seems like only yesterday, they were snuggling up against me in the church pew. I can still smell their clean buzz haircuts and feel the big purse I carried full of snacks and toys to occupy them on Sunday mornings.  They still have the buzz cuts though. They're all active duty now. Two of them are NCO's in the Army, one is a cadet at West Point, one is a Coast Guard seaman and the baby just left for the Army. I have grandchildren now and we live in a cute tiny little house in North Idaho with our new pup Zuzu. Life looks a lot different for sure. The house is cleaner too ;)

I continue to practice medicine as a nurse practitioner and remain passionate about health, wellness and fitness.  The events of the last year have challenged me, saddened me and inspired me, probably in that order.  The thought of writing again came with a challenge the Lord gave me to begin to share with the world the things that He has done for me. To proclaim His goodness in the darkness of the world in this time.  So that's what I intend to do. In an age of masking and distancing, I intend to tear off the facade and get up close and personal. 

This week I have been burdened.  Burdened for my sons in their military service and for the state of our nation in the midst of lockdowns and restrictions. I have been depressed, anxious and hopeless. I am guessing that I am not the only one feeling this way and in the midst of my sorrow the Lord brought me a word of encouragement from a sister in Christ. She sweetly asked me about my boys. She wanted to know how she could be praying for them.  I should add that she's never even met them.  But she lives out the love of Christ by pouring out His love through praying for my kids.  It humbled me greatly.  Throughout our conversation, she proclaimed the goodness of God and she challenged me to live out the truth of Psalm 91.  "We should be living fearlessly right now, Rebekah", she said.  "We should be living like we have the highest King in our corner, because we do."  I hugged her, thanked her and continued on my way.  The Holy Spirit continued to remind me of the truth of Psalm 91, and of the need for me to knit the words in my mind and heart in order to speak its truth over my anxiety and fear.  So I have committed to memorizing it this week. I am hoping that if you're reading this you will join me and in conclusion, I will leave the words here. Be strong in your faith, rely on the One who made you, knows you, forgives you and loves you the most.  Do not despair in the failings of this world.  We know how this all ends and it ends with Victory!  Live like you know it!

Psalm 91:

He who dwells in the shelter of the most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, "He is my refuge and my fortress, my God in whom I trust."  Surely he will save you from the fowler's snare and the deadly pestilence.  He will cover you with his feathers and under His wings you will find refuge.  His faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.  You will not fear the terror of night, nor the arrow that flies by day, nor the pestilence that strikes in the darkness, nor the plague that destroys at midday.  A thousand may fall at your side, ten thousand at your right hand, but it will not come near you.  You will only observe with your eyes and see the punishment of the wicked.  If you make the most high your dwelling - even the Lord who is my refuge - then no harm will befall you, no disaster will come near your tent.  For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways; they will lift  you up in their hands; so that you will not strike your foot against a stone. You will tread upon the lion and the cobra; you will trample the great lion and the serpent.  "Because he loves me, "says the Lord, "I will rescue him; I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.  He will call upon me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honor him. With long life I will satisfy him and show him my salvation.

Acquire the Fire, Eugene OR (Brey's interview)

loving the least...

"For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not let me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me. They also will answer, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothies or sick or in prison, and did not help you?' He will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.'" (Matthew 25:42-45)

I live in a small town right on the ocean. There is one main highway that runs north and south along the ocean. Our town has about 2000 people, and the towns that scatter the wilderness along this highway are not much larger. Dots on a map, seperated by trees, rocks and mountains. The scenery is beautiful. The economy here is driven mostly by tourism, logging and fishing. Unlike larger cities, visions of poverty and need are not easily apparent. But like every city and town, poverty and need certainly exist. You just have to look...

About 10 days ago, I was leaving work late at night. It was 11:30 to be exact, and I was headed home on a long stretch of that north, south highway along the ocean. It was exceptionally dark and of course, as it does most nights here, it was raining. As I turned to get on the highway, I had to swerve in order to avoid hitting a person pushing a shopping cart chuck full of stuff along the highway. In the hurriedness of avoiding a crash, I was immediately frustrated. I thought to myself, "what kind of person, walks right alongside a major highway in the black of night, in the rain!! pushing a shopping cart!!!??? For goodness sake!!!" After a few deep breaths and a few decent songs on the radio, the experience was easily removed from my mind as I contemplated the more important things in my life, like "what am I going to eat when I get home?" and "man, I hope I don't have to get up with the boys in the morning...I need to sleep!" Eventually, I made it home, ate and got tucked into my warm bed while the rain and wind beat against my house. I drifted off to sleep next to the man I love and just outside my door, several miles down the highway, someone was pushing everything they owned in a shopping cart in the pouring rain.

Two days later, I was off to one of my dance classes. Just north of town about 14 miles to the local dance studio. I sweated, laughed, danced and visited with some of the other ladies at the class, then an hour later, I headed home on the highway. It was dark and raining. About half way to my home, I saw the same shopping cart being pushed by the same person on the same side of the highway. This time, I tried to get a better look at the person through the darkness. He was wearing a hugh tarp and the shopping cart was also covered with a tarp, and both were whipping and blowing in the strong wind. I kept driving past thinking, "wow, he made it about 40 miles in 2 days...that's impressive." As I made my way home, I had trouble getting the picture out of my mind. It was starting to bother me. But I am a busy lady, and very quickly, I moved on to something else.

A day later, I saw him again. He was pushing the shopping cart up a huge hill on the same highway. I started to become concerned for him, I slowed down as I drove by, I even said a prayer that the Lord would keep him safe. When I got home, I told my husband about him. "he's almost to Newport, I said. you wouldn't believe all the stuff he's pushing in that cart!" I started to feel like his recurrent presence in my life was not coincidental, I started wondering if the Lord wanted me to do something for him. I wondered, for a little while, but soon I got busy with self indulgent things like wondering what I should wear to church the next day...yea, important stuff...

Several days passed and soon I was out on the highway again. Driving home from somewhere, I began wondering what had happened to the shopping cart pusher. I hadn't seen him several days. "Maybe the police picked him up", I thought. "It certainly can't be legal to take a shopping cart, fill it up with stuff and push it up the highway...endangering drivers trying to navigate darkness and bad weather, right?" (eye roll, here) And then I saw it...on the side of the road, pieces of a smashed, plastic grocery cart strewn all over the grass. I gasped! I wanted to pull over but I was driving too fast. I turned the car around and drove by again...sure enough, there was the pieces of the cart, some of them had fallen over the steep cliff down to the ocean. I didn't get out of the car. I was so afraid he had fallen over the embankment and was lying there dead. I started to cry, and as I drove home a feeling of tremendous grief came over me. Would anyone even miss him? Did anyone even know he was walking along that highway? Did anyone care?

When I got home, I told my husband about it. He tried to comfort me by telling me it probably wasn't his cart, after all it was on the opposite side of the road! I tried to sleep that night but could not shake the feeling that the I was supposed to do something for that man and I had desperately failed him. The guilt I felt was overwhelming. I was angry with the Lord, "what did you want me to do for him?" I cried. "you know, he wouldn't have left that shopping cart, Lord!"
Sleep eluded me for several nights following. I was so disappointed in myself, I had been so self absorbed and so sinful, that pushed aside the challenge the Lord has given me before...again! A day or so later in church, I wept during worship, asking the Lord to forgive me and use me, even in my imperfection. I came home from church and went to bed. Too full of self pity to even have fellowship with my family.

A few hours went by, and I got up, came out to the kitchen and announced to the boys that we were going out for awhile. Busyness always distracts from too much conviction (wink, wink) So, we headed out to the car and drove north on the highway for about an hour to Lincoln City to do some shopping. We shopped for a little bit and then headed home, it was getting dark and it was, of course, raining. As we drove, we came around a curve and there on the side of the highway was the tarp covered man pushing his tarp covered shopping cart! "There he is!" I yelled. My husband and sons looked. "That's him! That's him! He's not dead!!" The boys of course were looking at me like I was crazy, but my husband smiled. "See", he said, "I told you he was fine." I breathed a deep sigh of relief and we chatted back and forth happily. I slept well that night and woke around 6 am with a word...yup, a word. I know, I hate when that happens too...but it was definitely a word and it was definitely from the Lord. I rolled over and tapped my husband on the shoulder and woke him. "uh, honey, you know that guy with the shopping cart? yea, well, uh...the Lord wants me to find him today and give him some good shoes. they can't be used shoes, hon, he's doing a lot of walking, he doesn't need someone's old worn out shoes...he needs new shoes." (smiling here) He says, "oookkayy, honey!" (bless his heart...)

So, I got dressed and headed out, bought the shoes (what size? I don't know, so a bought a couple different sizes) "how am I going to find him?" I wondered...and then the Lord quickly reminded me, "do you really think I'm sending you to do this and you're not going to be able to find him? oh, child..." So I headed up the highway with the shoes in the car and drove about 50 miles when I saw the shopping cart on the side of the road. I got so excited! and then terrified...I pulled over and got out of the car. The "man" was actually a woman, Willamina, and she was sitting on the grass...barefoot! yes, people...i said, barefoot! I walked over and visited with her. She asked me where I was headed and I told her I was headed to her...

She got the shoes, dear sisters and brothers, and she so loved them. Then we loaded up her shopping cart in the back of my car (i know, right???) and I gave her a ride to the next city. She shared with me her travel plans and told me about the car that almost killed her in Newport and smashed her old shopping cart, but that she was thankful because now she has a new one. (wow...) When I asked her if she had a family somewhere, she said, "none of that matters. it doesn't matter how old we are, what color we are, what sex we are, it only matters what we do in this life for Jesus Christ"...shut the front door...do you have as many goosebumps as me right now?

After leaving Willamina at the laundromat so she could wash some of her wet things, she hugged me and I got to pray over her. The blessing I received from the whole encounter, can never be summed up in this blog entry. The lesson for me is huge. Why did Jesus spend so much time telling us to serve the least? Why is it so important to him? Why does He care so much about orphans, the poor, the sick and the hungry? Because He died for them! He died for all of us, even the ones who hate him. He loved the least so much He gave His LIFE for them...if we claim to love Him, shouldn't we at least be able to give a pair of shoes?

being real...

sometimes i wonder what the world would like if it were real. what would it look like in your home, your workplace, your television and your church, if people were real? i know it sounds like a strange concept and really it is...but since i have been struggling with it recently, and actually always, i am wondering if i'm alone?

i read a book recently that had a profound impact on me. the book is called "7". in general, the theme of the book challenges the cultural condition of our country. it's a book about shedding the "excess" we all strive to accumulate in an effort to fully understand the extent to which the "church" resembles the "world". it was quite convicting for me, but lately i've been struggling not as much with stuff, but more with appearances. following the same line of thinking, it seems most of the efforts of people in our culture are directed toward appearing like everything is perfect, all the time. when we are met with people who don't strive to appear perfect, we are uncomfortable. we label them as vulnerable, steer clear of them, and/or be sure to express contempt for their pathetic, assuredly self inflicted mess of a life. does that sting anyone besides me?

i have to tell you, keeping up appearances is absolutely killing me. it is truly exhausting! it seems to take every ounce of energy i have just to muster up the fake smile that goes with it. sometimes, i have this urge to scream "guess what? i don't have it all together!" i think the only reason i don't yell it out is because i am so afraid of the reaction. to be honest, i haven't written anything lately because i can't. i think about writing and i quickly remind myself, that i'm a mess and nobody wants to know that. and even more importantly...i don't want anyone to know that!! but then i realized that makes me just like everyone else...completely afraid to be real.

when i have truly reached the end of myself, i end up in the Psalms. i find David's writings to be so revealing. sometimes, i read them and the words literally bring me to tears. Psalm 6:6 says "i am worn out from groaning, all night long i flood my bed with weeping and drench my couch with tears. my eyes grow weak with sorrow, they fail because of all my foes." whoa...talk about being real! can you imagine if David did what i do? what many of us do? and failed to write those words? what if he worried that everyone would think he was weak if he "blogged" about his struggles? what if he only admitted his shortcomings to the Lord and failed to do what the Lord spoke to him by writing the Psalms? please don't get me wrong, i certainly am not claiming to be David, but i am claiming to know these truths. the Lord meets us wherever we are and is able to use us to accomplish great things. but what if we have to "be real" in order for those things to be accomplished? are we still willing? what if we have to be vulnerable? are we still willing? what if we have to risk the image we are trying so desperately to keep up? are we still willing?

i have to tell you, friends...i am too exhausted with my image. i am in need of some "real" time with the Lord. it's definitely scary. the thought of being vulnerable is uncomfortable to say the least. but what if someone else can be influenced or even rescued as a result? what if i spend my life looking "perfect" to the world and completely missing the potential the Lord created me for? that thought is even scarier...

Psalm 18:30 - "as for God, his way is perfect..."

His perfection is all this girl has, and i do know that it is plenty...

A Champion...

This story is not about my kid. It's about someone else's kid. Someone else's kid that I don't even know, but his impact on me has been huge, and that's putting it mildly.

My kid is the one in green, he finished fourth at the state tournament. He wrestled hard and left everything he had on the mat. I am so proud of him. The kid the story is about, is the one in red. He finished second. A great wrestler, a strong competitor, an athletic force to be reckoned with...but the impact he made on the mat had nothing to do with his athletic abilities, and everything to do with his heart.

His name is Cody, and I know nothing about him except what I have seen, and what I have seen is stunning. For me, the story begins a few weeks ago. My oldest son, Brey, wrestled at Jefferson High School. I worked that evening and when he returned home, I asked him how his match had gone. "I got pinned", he said. "Bummer", I responded, "how did that happen?" He responded, "he's last year state champ, he's undefeated, a great wrestler, his name is Cody Manzi."

Cody didn't cross my mind again until the district wrestling tournament 2 weeks later. Our family traveled over to Harrisburg, OR, to watch Brey compete for a chance to go to State. Brey wrestled hard and made it to the championship match. His opponent for first place in the 3A district championship was Cody Manzi. Just like most wrestling moms, I anxiously waited in the stands and sized up the competition. I watched Cody as he prepared to wrestle Brey. The competetive spirit in me hoped that Brey would beat him. He didn't. Cody pinned Brey, again, and both of them advanced to the State Tournament. On the long drive home, we discussed strategies for beating Cody. We discussed his strengths and talked about how he probably hadn't faced a challenging opponent in some time. We hoped he would at the State Tournament...

He did.

It wasn't my kid. It was someone else's who faced Cody, but I couldn't wait to see it. Brey finished fourth, so he was done wrestling for the season. We climbed into our seats and waited for the championship rounds to begin. I didn't care about anyone else's match, I was waiting for Cody's. I wanted to see him wrestle a really tough match, and that's exactly what I got.

The boy who wrestled Cody for the District 3A State Championship Title brought everything he had. He wrestled his heart out. He gave everything he had. He fought hard when most would have given up. He is worthy of much praise and congratulations. But my story is not about him...it's about the boy who lost. It's about Cody...

As I watched and cheered for the underdog, Cody fought for his title. He wrestled hard, struggled to strategize and tried to control a determined opponent. But like all of us, Cody is human. He met a better wrestler that day and ultimately lost his title. It should have been a tragedy for Cody Manzi...but it wasn't. As the stunned crowd looked on, Cody Manzi did something absolutely amazing. He loved...

When Cody realized his defeat was certain, he began clapping his hands. In the center of a packed arena, with all eyes on his match, he began clapping his hands in celebration of his opponent's success. When he finished clapping he grabbed his opponent's hand and he raised it to the ceiling proclaiming his stunning victory! The joy on his face was so pure it was contagious. I couldn't take my eyes off of him as he congratulated the winner, hugged the officials and both coaches and ran off the mat, leaving the new state champion to enjoy his fame.

Humbled, is the only word that can describe my heart at that moment. A seventeen year old boy had taught this old girl a lesson in the love of Christ. I love the Lord with all that I am, but I know myself well enough to know that I would not have had the strength that that boy had in that moment. That only comes from heaven...

When met with the challenge, Cody Manzi "loved thy neighbor as thyself". And the result was sobering to a self centered generation focused on winning. The event in that stadium was far greater than physical strength and accomplishment. It was a spiritual challenge given to Cody, that he met with more fortitude than any match he ever wrestled. The impact goes beyond anything he will ever understand, but his willingness to be used by God definitely qualifies him as a champion.

Congratulations Cody, I'm so proud you!

Going to State!!!

Warning! I have become one of those annoying "bragging" parents...I know, I'm surprised myself, but it just snuck up on me out of nowhere! All the sudden I remind myself of those mom's on that reality TV show about pageants. I haven't gotten Brey a spray tan and teeth whitening yet, but I also haven't ruled it out...just sayin...

So, our oldest son Brey (see above photo) came in 2nd last weekend at the 3A district finals and gets to compete in the Oregon 3A state wrestling finals this weekend. We are all so excited. Me, especially, since I get to figure out what to wear...(told ya! scary...) We are heading to Portland on Friday and T's parents are meeting us, we're taking all the boys with us and we probably will look like some "dugger family" fiasco, but, oh well! We wouldn't have it any other way. We are all so proud of him and just wishing him great success.

In preperation for this big weekend of competition, Thane and I have been assisting Brey with wrestling support. For instance, yesterday, Thane rolled out the wrestling mats in the garage (yes, people, we have actual high school wrestling mats in our garage...don't hate) anyways, Thane and Brey spent the afternoon watching the video tapes from last weekend and analyzing strategies and moves. The culmination of this ended up with Thane actually wrestling Brey on the mats. This is actually quite amusing to watch...Thane begins by assuming the wrestling stance and smacking Brey on the side of the head. Brey says "yo! why are you hitting me?" Thane: "does it make you mad?" (Thane smacks the side of his head again...) Brey: "hey! you can't hit me!" Thane: "Really? I think I just did." Brey: (adolescent eye rolling) Thane: "if your opponent smacks you on the side of the head at the tournament, are you gonna look at the ref and tell him 'he's not allowed to hit me!' " About that time, Brey decided to take Thane down and did so quite solidly. What followed was an all out, no holds barred WWF style match. They grunted and moaned, laughed and sweated together, and as of this morning, Thane still can't move his right shoulder (don't tell Brey though).

As for me, I play a much more strategic role in offering my plan of attack for Brey's upcoming competition. It goes something like this...Me: "Brey, I have some advice for you for this weekend..." Brey (trying to act interested) "yea?" Me:"I don't think you should get underneath that guy, he looks really strong, I would try not to get underneath him." Brey: "oookay, mom...thanks" Me: "oh, one more thing...I would just take it one match at a time, you can't win the last one until you win the first one..." Brey:"Right..." (I know, this is good stuff right? I should totally write a book on wrestling strategies)

So, we've been busy checking the brackets, the state rankings and watching all 6 "Rocky" movies this week. I'm so pumped up, I've been running around in trash bags, eating grapefruit and spitting. I'm afraid if I run into the competition in the halls of the Colisseum I might just take him down myself! But I'll probably just exchange hard looks with the other mom's though...I always win at that!

Gotta go...need to get his spray tan scheduled!

District 3A Semi-Finals, 195 lbs.