Category Archives: history

how we keep the house

Posted on by September 26, 2022

A dream woke me up at 5 am.

I had fallen asleep praying for a loved one who seems to be drifting in the last few years, and the next thing I knew, my heart was loud while the room was dark and quiet, and the Lord was telling me, Remember, and share this.

how we keep the house: a dream and a warning for the Church

So here goes.

I dreamt of a being in a house I’ve never been to. Most of the kids were with me and there were hills around; my husband and other men were outside, scouting and guarding the area.

We knew we were about to be attacked, that enemies were attempting to invade us. My job was to go along the inside of the house and lock all the doors and windows.

A young man was with me, like my son but not my son. But in my dream I knew he was my right hand man, the one I was relying on the most, as though the men had assigned him to stay with me and the kids for protection and help.

I went down the long, skinny hallway, shutting windows and locking doors until I got to a door that was stuck and wouldn’t latch. I called the young man over to help me and he shut it, and then he went down the hall ahead of me to take care of the rest. But as I followed him with one of my little boys, I noticed the next window was left partly open, and one of the doors wasn’t closed all the way. The young man was increasingly unreliable as he went down the hall toward the end of the house.

The hallway ended with two glass doors that made up the wall of that side of the house. The doors were supposed to meet in the middle and latch, but the glass was cracked and had been cheaply fixed with clear packing tape.

And the doors were still open. The young man was standing in the doorway with my seven-year-old son, and I could see the horde of raiders with weapons coming, running through the woods right toward us.

They had flanked, and were going to attack the back of the house first.

A small shelf of handmade weapons was nearby. Some were worthless cardboard, like children’s toys, but others were knives and hatchets, and I grabbed one of those. But the doors were still open, and my seven year old was standing with the young man, watching them come. They weren’t shutting the doors; they were transfixed on watching the coming onslaught. I kept telling them “Shut the doors! Shut the doors!” and they just stood there.

I grabbed my son and threw him behind me, but the young man was larger than me and in the way; I could not close the doors without him moving.

The first raider reached us with the others right behind him, and he stretched his arm up through the doorway, getting ready to climb in.

And I woke up, but my thoughts finished the dream for me: I knew I would have to kill the invader as he tried coming into the house.

Yeah. Wow, I know, that’s not the normal stuff I share here. As I laid there trying to figure it out, the Lord reminded me that I fell asleep praying for that loved one who has been turning lukewarm, losing vision, tired of the fight. And then I had this dream about the young man, meant to be relied upon to stand and fight and defend. And at first he was reliable, but the further he went into the mission, the less effective he became until he was basically deadened and stupefied, putting the rest of us in danger.

And this is a picture of some in the Church right now who have called themselves Christians for decades.

In the beginning of the reign of Jehoiakim the son of Josiah, king of Judah, this word came from the Lord: “Thus says the Lord: Stand in the court of the Lord‘s house, and speak to all the cities of Judah that come to worship in the house of the Lord all the words that I command you to speak to them; do not hold back a word. It may be they will listen, and every one turn from his evil way, that I may relent of the disaster that I intend to do to them because of their evil deeds. You shall say to them, ‘Thus says the Lord: If you will not listen to me, to walk in my law that I have set before you, and to listen to the words of my servants the prophets whom I send to you urgently, though you have not listened, then I will make this house like Shiloh, and I will make this city a curse for all the nations of the earth.’”

– Jeremiah 26:1-6

It’s easy to write this off as a passage for non-believers, but it’s not. It’s for those who went to the court of the Lord’s house, to all the cities that come to worship in the house of the Lord. It’s for us, the Church.

We have neglected to keep the house, and we need to repent and restore it.

At every pivotal moment in history there have been those who stood by, not wanting to take a stand as evil overtook the institutions and culture of the land. Their discernment and action were dulled and useless because they chose comfort over obedience. They feared man more than they feared God. They worshipped themselves instead of the Creator.

Christians, friends, Church: We have been living in one of those pivotal moments for years now, and the boat needs to rock.

Too many are placidly standing my, flirting with popularity, worshiping ease, drifting lazy fingers in the current as it carries us toward destruction. If you are not speaking out, standing up, learning about what is going on, interceding for those on the front lines of this, and taking action when the Lord calls you to, you are not rocking the boat – you are sinking the ship.

The windows and doors have not just been left open; many in the house have groveled and bootlicked their way to being complete sycophants of the enemy.

Many pastors want a seat at the table Jesus would be flipping over.

– Joe Oltmann

We are meant to guard and defend, but it’s easy to fall into sleepwalking through our days, mesmerized by the enemy and doing nothing to prevent His attacks.

So how do we protect our flank?

Are we praying? Are we armed? Are we alert to what’s going on, and preventing the enemy’s access to our family? Or are we just too tired, too numb, too overwhelmed, too careless of those around us?

Because it’s not just about us. There are kids in the house, watching us, learning how to respond to the world out there. Our apathy puts them in danger.

It is exhausting. We are tired. Life is full and frenzied right now, and you’re right, we can’t possibly do everything or be everywhere at once. But this is not the time to make excuses and get sloppy, to move our eyes from what the Lord is calling us to see.

Even though the wise virgins were also weary, they made it an absolute priority to store up oil. Because a lamp without oil burns out quickly.

– Craig Cooney, The Blueprint

I confess I have not prayed as fervently as I should be doing. So I’ve been coming back to the Lord at new times, with new requests, letting Him interrupt me again and in new ways. I do not want to become less effective the farther I go in my journey, or to endanger those I love and am commissioned to protect. I want to be more dangerous to the enemy, and more partnered with the Lord in what He is doing.

I want to better steward the days and assignments He gives us. That requires being aware of what is going on around me, and being willing to do uncomfortable things when He calls me to.

And He calls us to many things: To intercede. To serve. To act. To be alert, because the enemy is like a prowling lion.

If we are actively persisting in the Lord’s presence, He will help us notice what we need to. But if our eyes are elsewhere, we’ll be blindsided and stupefied, a liability to those we love around us.

In the dream, the enemy found the side that had been infiltrated by a sleeping guard, and that’s the side it attacked.

We need to be awake and watchful. Praying and discerning. Standing and defending. Speaking and resisting. Equipped and equipping. Learning and teaching. Repenting and restoring.

Many Christians are vying for a seat at the table Jesus would be flipping over.

We surrender only to the Lord, and we will not step aside for the enemy. This is the ground we’ve been given to protect and defend, and we plan to keep it.

just getting started: the overwhelm that equips us

Posted on by May 26, 2022

The first few weeks were fine: Cute little birds in their cute little boxes in our slightly overcrowded bathroom. Little peeping noises from the chicks, beautiful cooing noises from the quail. We could watch them for hours.

just getting started: the overwhelm that equips us

But then the chick dust started.

And, oh my friends, do you know what chick dust is? It’s a combination of things, but mostly it’s dander from the feathers that are growing in from about two to six weeks of age. If you have a history of asthma, pneumonia, bronchitis, or other respiratory issues, it’s no bueno to be around.

The feathers are important, of course. They’re what help them endure the elements, and they’re what make them beautiful. But the dirty, ugly-cute season has to be endured in the process of growing them.

I started to notice the burning in my throat and chest, reminiscent of pneumonia. It felt like I was suffocating. So I started taking supplements for lung support and we cleaned the brooder multiple times a day.

But the dust took its toll. So I was banned from the bathroom, and as soon as it was warm enough outside, the chicks were banned from the house.

(No, it has nothing to do with bird flu. If you believe what the news is telling you about bird flu, I have some oceanfront property in northern Wasilla I’d love to sell you.)

Now the birds are seven and eight weeks old: Their feathers are in, the dust has settled, and they’ve upgraded to the coop and the yard, all beautifully fluffy as they peck at dandelions and bugs. The quail have even been laying eggs for almost two weeks now, and it feels like we made it.

It was a long, crazy month, though. Learning how to care for birds while having several other irons in the fire was a level of overwhelm I haven’t felt since…well, maybe since having a newborn. In this case, we had 38 chickie newborns, a kid graduating, several work and writing projects, grades and progress reports to turn in for six kids, garden seedlings everywhere, and the normal societal unrest that has become so common in the last few years that it’s stopped surprising us.

It’s not special; you have all your own stuff you’re dealing with, too. We’re all just living normal life, but doing it in an era that is kicking up dust everywhere.

He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, “Lord, do you wash my feet?” Jesus answered him, “What I am doing you do not understand now, but afterward you will understand.” Peter said to him, “You shall never wash my feet.” Jesus answered him, “If I do not wash you, you have no share with me.” 

– John 13: 6-8

We don’t understand why all these things are going on around us, but Jesus is getting our feet wet.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had conversations with friends in recent weeks about how the events of the past few years have taken their toll, and we are feeling the effects of it. We are overwhelmed. Feeling scattered. Fighting burnout. Wrestling anxiety again that we conquered years ago. Dealing with a few health issues from all the stress.

Simon Peter said to him, “Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and my head!”Jesus said to him, “The one who has bathed does not need to wash, except for his feet, but is completely clean. 

– John 13:9-10

Don’t make it weird, Peter. I’m not drowning you, I’m equipping you.

One friend mentioned how prayer feels like more of a struggle lately. The words don’t come as easily, and since they don’t, she has to force words, which feels less genuine. But she’s learning the discipline of mature, fighting prayer. The truth is, my friend is doing great with her prayer life. She’s growing and persisting in it in new ways.

If you feel like you’re not doing well in your prayer life because it’s not as easy as it was, you’ve probably actually moved to the next level and are feeling the stretching of growth.

Our success can’t be gauged by how comfortable we are with something; usually our success is indicated by our willingness to continue doing the right thing even when it’s hard and uncomfortable.

We’re not going under; we’re graduating. We feel the dust burning in our lungs because it’s time for an upgrade, and we need to take new territory.

We watched the fruition of it this week when our daughter graduated. She’s our second grad but the first to walk, the one who was born after a horrible miscarriage and brought redemption even before she breathed outside the womb. She’s beautiful and gifted and brilliant, and just so you know, she’s getting a shotgun as soon as she turns eighteen. (If you believe what the news is telling you about gun violence, I also have some lakefront property in our chicken coop you really ought to see.)

The grades are in, the paperwork is done. But she isn’t finished; she’s just equipped for the next level.

And I have been feeling this upgrade, too. Last week when I was at the desk, trying to settle into a few hours of work, I felt like a deer in the headlights, unable to figure out what to tackle first. I was stunned by the amount of needs and directions I had to go in.

It was too much; I turned the page and started making a list of irons in the fire, and got almost halfway down the page before I stopped and put the pencil down.

Lord, what do I do with all this? I asked. Where do I start?

The Holy Spirit started asking questions back:

Are any of these temporary?

Yes. There’s a temporary partnership, a smallish project to finish, a bigger task to be done, and Iree’s graduation. Those won’t be on the list forever.

Are any of these negotiable, or not necessary?

Um…no, not really.

Are they all bringing life and bearing fruit, even if you can’t see the fruit yet?

I think so. There’s one I might be able to eliminate but it’s too soon to tell.

Start at the top. Do the thing closest to you and work your way down.

So I made the phone calls, returned the texts, wrote the articles. Filled out the paperwork. Graduated the girl.

The list has started to shrink; it doesn’t quite hit the middle of the page anymore. And I know it will always flux and change – things will be added to it as others are crossed off.

But you and I, we are growing, and upgrading, and effectively engaging a culture that is reaping the consequences of simply going with the flow, refusing to do the hard but necessary things. We’re persisting in doing the right thing even when it’s not comfortable.

We’re not finished; we’re just getting ready for the next level.

I’m not suffocating you, Love, He tells us. I’m equipping you. No feathers, no flight.

what the day demands: holding the hospital accountable

Posted on by February 18, 2022

Just quickly, because I hate thinking about it, I want to give you an update on our experience with Alaska Regional Hospital, who refused emergency care to our toddler when he broke his arm and needed emergency surgery because I would not allow them to swab him for Covid.

The hospital investigated the incident and admitted fault. They apologized profusely, multiple times. We have had communication with them through emails, letters, and phone calls. To quote the letter from the Patient Safety Director: “Our comprehensive review found opportunities for improvement and we will address these concerns with the individuals involved and will provide education throughout our facility.”

what the day demands: holding the hospital accountable

That’s the quick summary.

The longer, more detailed version is this: In the same letter, they said they considered the matter concluded but also admitted they had not yet addressed the people involved (“we will address these concerns”) and that was a red flag to me. So I spoke with the director who wrote the letter and expressed that concern, and asked for more specifics.

In that conversation, the Patient Safety Director was very nice and again apologized. However, she also attempted to shift blame by accusing me of taking video in spite of their policy against it. I was unaware of this policy, since they violated their own policy by not giving me a copy of the Patient’s Bill of Rights and Responsibilities. Ironic, yes? This is just one example of how policies are neglected or enforced based on a convenient double standard instead of integrity.

To give you an idea of how that conversation went (and to help equip you in the event of a similar debacle), the bulk of my follow up letter is copied below.

You mentioned the hospital’s policy against taking video, which, since I was not given a copy of the Patient’s Bill of Rights and Responsibilities (a violation of Alaska Regional’s own policy, per its website here) I was unaware of. However, does that policy excuse the behavior that was captured on those videos?

In our conversation, I pointed out that most people breaking the law (as your staff did) tend to not want video or audio recordings of such behavior. However, the State of Alaska does not prohibit the recording of conversations, per Alaska Statute § 42.20.300(a) which indicates that only a party of the conversation is allowed to record and/or broadcast the communication, in addition to Federal law, 18 U.S.C. § 2511(2)(d), which requires only that one party give consent, and I am that party.

I was alone with no other advocate (your staff not allowing my husband to be with me, which also seems to violate the hospital’s listed visitation rights per your website here, nor offering a patient advocate as is policy for all joint commission accredited hospitals). Your staff broke several policies and laws, so this is a bad time to defray responsibility by accusing me of recording of the event. It was the only wise protection for myself as I was left with hospital staff who attempted to strip me of every other protection, to the point of calling the police and threatening to trespass me because I dared to ask questions about a test for my son that I had every right to refuse, also according to the Patient’s Bill of Rights.

It was interesting to me that, like the nurse who was focused more on the mask issue than our toddler’s broken arm, you also returned to the mask issue a couple times, to the point of repeatedly asking if our entire family has mask exemptions. Our entire family consists of eight children and two parents — ten people— and none of our medical status or history is any of your business. As a Hospital Patient Safety Director, you ought to know that. Your returning to the irrelevant mask issue likewise shows a grave error of priorities in this situation.

I suggest your staff review these and other laws more closely as it appears there are several misunderstandings where you and your staff judge certain hospital policies to be superior to actual laws, which they are not, and other hospital policies that are there for the protection of patients to be irrelevant. Alaska Regional Hospital is subject to the laws of the United States and the State of Alaska. Those laws are not nullified because of policies and mandates.

To reiterate from our conversation and your letter, we are using very different language. I want to clarify to you again and in writing that I did not simply feel “unsupported” but that I was bullied and traumatized. Your staff was not “insensitive” – they were abusive, and repeatedly attempted to intimidate and pressure me into doing what they wanted. Lastly, this is not simply “an opportunity for further education and improvement;” this was Alaska Regional Hospital committing multiple violations of the law (ADA, HIPPA, and/or EMTALA, in addition to those mentioned above), along with committing multiple violations of the Patient’s Bill of Rights as listed on the hospital’s own website.

Please call it what it is; acknowledging the gravity of the situation would make your apology more convincing. Whitewashing the events does not convince me that any lasting change is coming to your facility.

Their behavior during this event indicates that the staff involved in this situation have clearly been getting away with this kind of treatment for a long time.

The only reason it came to light this time is because we did not succumb to it and we let many, many people know about it. Those people, including our family and several elected representatives, are very eager to know how Alaska Regional Hospital is going to correct this situation, including whether they will persist in charging us the $708 for such a traumatic, incompetent experience. We would like your assurance that this kind of situation never happens to another family again.

Thank you again,
Shannon Guerra

In her reply, the same director ignored the laws and policies mentioned and repeated many of the kind-but-squishy phrases from her original letter. Watered down words don’t impress me, and euphemisms expose dishonesty.

You spurn all who go astray from your statutes, for their cunning is in vain.

– Psalm 119:118

They did, however, waive the $708 charge as a “gesture of goodwill.”

It was truly the least they could do.

One of our daughters was born in that hospital. Baruch, our baby who I miscarried, was delivered there. But now this happened there, too, and I never want to step foot in that place again.

Forgiveness is free, but trust is not regained by double standards and diplomatic condescension.

This quote hangs in my office:

Weasel words from mollycoddles will never do when the day demands prophetic clarity from great hearts.

– Theodore Roosevelt

The day is coming when medical abuse will be brought to justice and those who justified it will find they were on the wrong side of history, to their shame and regret. The more we call out the whitewashing mollycoddles and speak with the truth of prophetic clarity, the sooner that day comes.

I am filing away this paperwork, and wishing the memories were that easy to shut away, too. We have bills upon bills from facilities who actually did provide service for Kav, and we are grateful for those in the medical industry who are doing their work with integrity and honesty.

Bottom line: Be a decent person. Don’t hide behind hypocrisy and double standards. And be nice to nerdy writers; we know how to get the word out.