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I was raised on an island in Lake Huron, ran away to Alaska and then the Yukon, had a "road to Mayo" conversion in 1982, leaped by faith into Briercrest Bible College with my husband in 1985 and landed in the "promised land" of central Alberta in 1988.
I've had the privilege of living a few miles south of the Arctic Circle (Dawson City Yukon) and a couple of degrees south of the equator (Papua New Guinea).
I suppose that's why my writing is steeped in the imagery of winter, with the odd palm tree thrown in.
For the past 20 years I've been a pastor's wife, mother of three girls, caretaker of two dogs, two cats and sundry fish, and oh, yes, a freelance writer. The writing began in the attic of my parent's house where I wrote stories for my dolls. None of them complained, so I kept it up. The Lord has abundantly blessed, challenged, rebuked, healed and restored me through the process of writing and being involved with writers.
I have two devotional books in print and my novel, One Smooth Stone, will be released by Castle Quay (Canadian imprint of Augsburg Fortress Books), in Sept. 2007


Fiction, Writing, Service, Missions, Ministry/Callings, Theology, Reading, Travel, Painting/Drawing, Poetry, Church

Guardian King Series, Levi's Will, Corner Gas, Numbers, Peace Like a River

Jennifer Knapp, Steve Green, Down Here, Brian Doerksen, Carolyn Arends

From the time I was very young I was taught a great deal about God, I knew Jesus had died for my sins, but I did not know Jesus. There were people around me who did. I knew they had something I did not, and I wanted it. The problem was, I kept doing all the things I’d been taught to do and nothing worked. I tried to be a good person, to follow the golden rule and all the commandments. Of course I failed continually.
When I was about eight years old, I was sexually molested by a neighbour and I became convinced that I could never be acceptable to anyone, especially God. By the time I graduated from high school, I had decided He didn’t want anything to do with me, so I wouldn’t have anything to do with Him either! I remained angry with God throughout that time. I poured my energies into living the way I wanted to live. I wandered, trying to find my way through a world that seemed to have no order, no beauty, no redeeming features. I left behind all the moral principles taught by my parents and teachers. I lived to satisfy my desires, my hungers, my longings. I craved love and sought it in all the wrong places. My life was as devoid of peace as a battlefield. I was constantly in turmoil, though I would never have admitted it.
Then, in 1977, I began to develop the first meaningful relationship I’d had. Spence was the first person I’d met who genuinely seemed to care about me. With entirely selfish motives, I agreed to marry him in the summer of 1980. That summer was to prove to be a tumultuous one. Spence’s best friend, Chuck, shot himself. The day we were married, a neighbour’s baby disappeared and was presumed drowned in the river that ran by our house. Later a friend’s husband was drowned in a canoeing accident and another man was killed in a car accident. Then another friend took his own life. Our lives were suddenly not only internally troubled, but externally, the world seemed full of nothing but death.
In an attempt to get away from it, we went on a honeymoon to California. But death seemed to have gone before us. We visited friends who were in shock because a neighbour had been shot the day before. We went to a state park hoping to stay, but were told there had been six bodies found and the killer was still loose. We went to a play in San Francisco and had to literally run to safety when two men tried to mug us. Then there was a Satanic ritual murder in Golden Gate park, only one block from where we were staying. We felt like we were crashing through the undergrowth in a garden that had become a dangerous jungle.
While in California, we met a man who gave us some interesting books to read. When we got home, Spence surprised me by reading the book, a discourse on the Sermon on the Mount, and by going to the evangelical pastor who had married us, to ask him about it. The pastor read the book and asked Spence if he would be interested in getting together once a week to discuss it. Spence said yes with enthusiasm.
While he was desiring to know more about God, I only had one desire on my heart. I wanted a baby. By this time we were the only couple in our circle of friends who did not have a child. We decided to adopt and traveled to Vancouver the next winter to have tests done to determine why we had not conceived. The doctor at Shawnasee Hospital told us it was highly unlikely we would ever have a child together. We returned to the Yukon and continued to pursue adoption.
Spence continued his meetings with the pastor. I wasn’t too worried until he came home one day and suggested we go to church. I humoured him the first three or four Sundays. Then, when he suggested we get dressed to go one morning, I refused. I had better things to do than sit in a damp ugly building with people I didn’t want to know, listening to a man talk about a God I didn’t want to believe in. When I said no, Spence challenged me to articulate what I believed. He pushed me to seek answers to the questions that had plagued me when I was young.
I did not want to look for those answers because I believed I was not worthy of finding them. In the end, however, we went to church. That was the most uncomfortable Sunday morning I can ever remember. It was all I could do to keep from running from the building. I had entered a sphere of life that was full of order, colour and hope, but it was one that frightened me. I had tried to see the order and colour and hope in life before, and had not succeeded. I was not willing to try again.
All that week I was haunted by the questions Spence had raised. Did I believe there was a God? If so, what was He really like? Was it possible to know Him in a personal way, like the pastor said? If so, How should I go about trying to find Him? By the end of the week I was exhausted and no closer to the answers. But this time I had a valid excuse for not going to church. A friend had asked me to help her set up her weaving loom. First thing Saturday morning I packed my suitcase to go. As I did so, I came across the little book given to me in California, at the same time Spence was given the Sermon on the Mount. I picked it up and flipped it open. There, as though in flashing neon, were the words, “Why do you reject me, who flows through all things?” I flung the book down, packed up and headed down the road, determined not to think about spiritual things any more.
As determined as I was, I could not get God out of my mind. In total frustration I finally pulled over to the side of the road at a lookout point. I sat there for some time, trying to puzzle it all through, but nothing made sense. There was only one thing that seemed to keep coming through, loud and clear. I needed forgiveness for my sin. I didn’t really believe He would forgive someone like me. I believed I deserved to be miserable. But I’d been hearing that He would forgive anyone who asked him, so I asked. Then I challenged Him, “If you’re really out there, show me you’re real. Do something!”
As I pulled away from the lookout I realized how ridiculous we humans must seem to God, if he existed. Here I was not really believing in him, yet talking to him as though he were right there in the truck with me. Then I “heard” a grandfatherly voice say, “yes, you are rather humorous, but I love you anyway.” At that point I thought I’d gone over the edge and was heading for madness.
I turned the radio up as loud as it would go and drove at breakneck speed to my friends’. I thought I’d be safe there. Brenda and I could talk about weaving all weekend. When I arrived we sat down to dinner and her husband said, “So, I hear you and Spence are going to church. What’s that all about?” For the whole weekend we did nothing but talk about spiritual things! By the end of that time, I had decided Christianity was not for me, and if Spence wanted to pursue it he could do it on his own. I feared this would cause a rift in our relationship, but felt sure it was just a phase that would pass in time.
The next week was full of turmoil as I dreaded the coming Sunday. My lack of peace was aggravated by an annoying flu bug that seemed to hit only first thing in the morning. It had been going on for a week now, and during my visit, Brenda suggested I was having morning sickness. I explained that it wasn’t possible. The experts had said so. But my heart leaped. Could it be true? Could this be the “something” I had challenged God to do? After being ill every morning that week, my doubts were weakening. Finally, as I vomited for the fifth day in a row, the truth hit me. I suddenly was astounded by the knowledge that I was indeed pregnant, and that this was a direct intervention in my life by a God who loved me so much he gave me my heart’s desire. I wept uncontrollably as joy and peace welled up inside. I knew I had been forgiven and accepted Christ at that moment.
I had not realized how wretched I was, until that peace and joy came. It came from knowing I was forgiven, knowing I was loved unconditionally and from seeking God with all my heart. The change was immediate and obvious. Some people said they barely recognized me. Others were suspicious, and many just did not understand what had happened, but they knew something had. One of my friends said, “You’re so calm now, you have that peaceful feeling about you.” For the first time since I was a child, I was completely at peace with myself and the people around me, because I was at peace with God.
The world became a beautiful garden. The Yukon is a beautiful place, but it had never seemed so vibrant and alive as it did once I opened by heart to God. I began to realize He had led me, been with me, wept for me through all my life. He is there still, as I continue to walk the path He has laid out for me.
I challenge you, if you have been wandering through a life that often seems to have no order, open your heart to God. Make one small step. Ask Him to become a part of your life. He is the designer, the architect who has big plans for you. Ask Him to show them to you. Believe me, you won’t be disappointed.