MV Winter 2019

By Becky De Oliveira

This article serves as a shout-out to Boulder Adventist Church—in my opinion a very welcoming if not the most welcoming church in the Rocky Mountain Conference. Since I’ve visited only a couple others, I can’t very well proclaim it the most welcoming—but it is by far the most welcoming of those I’ve visited. (The others have generally seemed to find my presence as an unknown stranger suspicious for some reason.)

I moved here with my family in 2014 and Boulder was only my children’s third church. As a pastoral family, we haven’t moved around as much as some do and even when my husband has changed jobs (church to conference, for in- stance) we’ve been able to stay in our house and community.

I was nervous about moving out here from Andrews University where my kids and I flew safely under the radar. Japhet wasn’t “the pastor;” he was the chaplain. There is a slight but significant distinction and I knew I’d had it easy for a long time. At Boulder we would live in a fishbowl, under a microscope, the beneficiaries of continued scrutiny, so I was told. I remembered it from England, the way people would pay attention to my clothes, to the way I handled my children. The massive ace I carried in my pocket in the UK was my status as a foreigner; because I was American the judgement fell less harshly. People made allowances for whatever I did, kindly assuming cultural differences or pure ignorance At Boulder I knew I would receive no such free pass. “Ugh,” I said to myself when I thought about it.

We arrived on a Wednesday as did a pair of Australian houseguests who politely stepped over the clutter of un- packed or semi-unpacked boxes as they used our parsonage as a base for travel around greater Denver. Our oldest son started high school the very next day.

There were flowers on the porch when we arrived with a short note welcoming us. (Japhet had already been living in the area for more than eight months, staying with a generous couple who provided him a room and sense of family.) Maybe the flowers don’t sound like a huge deal, perhaps many churches extend gestures like this. But none we’d ever encountered. The flowers were only the beginning. In the five years Japhet served as Boulder Adventist Church pastor, a role he only left this past summer, church members went far above and beyond the call of duty to make us feel loved and welcome. Birthday and Christmas gifts. Lunches and dinners out. Excursions across the state to experience more of our new home. An anonymous donor provided our youngest son with an intensive educational experience that made a huge difference to his learning and confidence. Two couples took our oldest son on a medical mission trip to Belize, an experience that he enjoyed and that proved important for his college applications later on. We often received random gift cards for Whole Foods or Flatirons Coffee. Our kids received bicycles. But best of all was the unconditional friendship offered by so many people in the church—whether or not my husband always did exactly as they wished. My children were not criticized or harassed. Having heard firsthand or read about nightmarish stories of pastoral family bullying, I cannot express how relieved I am to have raised my kids more or less to adulthood without any major church-induced trauma.

When Japhet took a job in California this summer and decided to commute for a couple of years while I finish my doctoral work and our youngest son completes high school, a few people encouraged us to find another church, to give the new pastor “space.” We’re absolutely giving Pastor Jenniffer Ogden (who is fabulous!) space, but we’re sticking with our people, with our community. “Where else could we possibly go?” I asked Japhet, rhetorically. “These are our people; we have no others in this place. We love these people.”

–Becky De Oliveira is working on a PhD in research methods at the University of Northern Colorado in Greeley.

By Kiefer Dooley

Charles Darwin once said that “the face is a billboard for the heart.” The sentiment of this statement is widely held as truth by most people. Humans wear their feelings on their faces. For us in the land of plenty in 2019, we take in a lot of information about others based on what we see. This is only furthered through our consumption of media, whether it be a TV show or a novel.

In the most popular sitcom of all time, Friends, Season 5, Episode 14, “The One Where Everyone Finds Out,” Ross comes to discover that his best friend is in love with his sister. Even if viewing with the TV on mute, a viewer would know that Ross is conveying surprise and shock. His face says it all. . . eyebrows raised, eyes wide, jaw dropped. We make sense of other facial expressions as well. If we see someone frowning, we think that person must be unhappy or upset. A smile means happy or amused. Wrinkled eyebrows? Concern or worry.

In his most recent book, Talking to Strangers, Malcom Gladwell explains that people often follow a generalized set of beliefs about a stranger’s facial expression, assuming that what they see on a person’s face equates to what the other must be feeling. In other words, we believe in rules of transparency or that we can correctly infer non-verbal information about others based on facial cues.

Interestingly, this translates to how we feel about ourselves. We often believe that we ‘know’ how our own face appears simply based on how we are feeling.

Gladwell explores an experiment by German psychologists Achim Schützwohl and Rainer Reisenzein to investigate this very question. Do we know what our faces look like when we are surprised?

Imagine that you were led down a long narrow hallway into a dark room. You sit and listen to a recording of Frank Kafka short story, followed by a memory test of what you’ve just heard. After finishing the test, you exit the room to return from where you came. Upon your exit you discover that instead of being in a hallway, you’re in an entirely different room. It’s been rearranged. Where there was once a dark corridor, there is now a square room with bright green walls and a single, red chair illuminated by one light bulb hanging from the ceiling. A room where a room should not be. You are surprised! But, what would be written on your face?

According to the world presented by Friends, you’d have Ross’s face. Or, Joey’s face in the next episode when he rushes into Monica’s apartment and discovers two of his best friends about to fight each other. His face tells you everything you need to know. Eyebrows shooting up. Eyes going wide. Jaw dropping.

Schützwohl and Reisenzein created the Kafka scenario and ran 60 people through it. Afterword, they asked the participants to rate their feelings of surprise on a scale of 1-10. The average for all 60? 8.14. Highly surprised! Next, they asked if the participants felt that the shock was displayed on their face. All of the respondents were convinced that surprise was written all over their faces.

A video camera in the corner proved otherwise. After coding the participants’ facial expressions in the moments after they exited into the room where a hallway should have been, Schützwohl and Reisenzein discovered that only five percent of cases had wide eyes, shooting eyebrows and dropped jaws. In 17 percent of the cases, they found two
of those expressions. In the rest, they found nothing that would normally associate with surprise at all.

The participants’ highly overestimated their surprise expressivity. Why? They inferred their likely facial expressions to the surprising event based on what they felt their face should look like. An inference made from living in a society that assumes truth about life from reading novels where a character’s “jaw drops with astonishment” or “eyes widen in shock,” or from watching TV sitcoms where heroes show the “Joey face.” In most cases, this inference was erroneous.

If you are super into sociology like me, you’d find this study and its conclusions fascinating. You’d also wonder things like . . .

● What do real people actually look like when they are surprised?
● Am I shaped into the person I am by factors beyond my control?
● Maybe I don’t watch Friends very often, but is the structure of the world I live in influencing me to believe one way when reality is another?
● Or, is it possible that we can allow outside factors to influence the way we feel about our own spiritual walk to the point that we’re getting it wrong? That we believe our heart is expressing through our bodies in one way, when in fact it actually appears like something else entirely?

Are we getting it wrong?

Fortunately, as Christians, we have the truth. And His name is Jesus. When everything else is uncertain, Jesus is the way. Live in the world, but not of the world. Allow the Father into your heart and let His way inform your steps. Partake in the Word and know Christ.

When you’re in the Word, you’ll see yourself (and others) clearly. There will be no chance for folk psychology, pop culture or even church culture to influence the way you think about or assign expressivity to your spiritual journey, because there will be no stranger—only the true you. Inform the way you see yourself and your spiritual walk through direct connection with the Father, because in the end your face should be a billboard for the heart of Christ.

–Kiefer Dooley is RMC youth director. Email him at: [email protected]

By Ron Price

I recently heard a message from Pastor Miles McPherson, a former NFL player, and the author of The Third Option: Hope for a Racially Divided Nation. In his talk, he stated that as humans, we tend to differentiate between those who appear to be like us and those who do not. While all generalizations will break down at some point, I believe he is on to something.

If you happen to be Caucasian, it does not necessarily mean you are a racist if you tend to associate with others of your race. The same is true for African Americans, Latinos, Hispanics, or any other group that comes to your mind. This preference to be among your “own kind” is pretty much universal, and it starts young. Look around at church next week and see who the kids like to hang out with. Then observe the senior citizens, then the young marrieds, then . . . well, you get the idea.

The fact that you tend to gather with others who are like you does not automatically indicate you are snobbish, elitist, or any other negative-sounding label you might apply. There’s just a certain comfort level that comes from being with people who you feel have a better idea of what your life is like than those who do not share your situations and experiences. You might feel you have less to explain, and that these people “get” you.

Might this theory apply to Seventh-day Adventists? I dare say my answer is yes, and therein may lie a problem. For sure, the concept applies to Baptists, Methodists, Catholics, and others, but we Adventists sometimes pride ourselves on how different we are from those of other faiths. After all, we worship on the correct day, we have the Spirit of Prophecy, we rightly interpret the biblical teaching on the state of the dead, and there are many more unique factors I could cite. In fact, we like to think and sometimes proclaim that we “have the truth,” thereby implying that others do not.

Please don’t get me wrong. I believe in Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior, and I believe that the Seventh-day Adventist Church’s teachings most closely align with His Holy Word. But what if our uniqueness causes us to shun others who are not of the faith? What if we look down on people who act or believe differently than we do, or as we think is proper? As author Stewart Stafford said, “When you choose to look down on something, you render yourself incapable of understanding it.” Might the same be said for looking down on others?

What if we tend to cluster together and only befriend other church members? And, even then, what if we only sit at the same table with those same members at fellowship meals or socials, possibly ignoring visitors and denying our- selves the opportunity to meet new friends? Methinks that might be a limiting factor in how we represent our Lord and do His bidding.

I came to Christ and the church later in life than many (age 28). That simply means I do not have an ingrained Seventh-day Adventist heritage. As such I frequently find myself in the company of people who are not Seventh-day Adventists. Unfortunately, often I am the only Adventist there. I do not intend that to sound boastful or like a put- down, but I challenge you to think about how many people who are not Adventist are in your close circle of friends.

Back in my colporteur days, I heard various beliefs that people held about our church. I heard that we do not like to give blood, that we try to build our stairway to Heaven by keeping the Law, that we are a cult, etc. And, while we can ably dispute these false claims, do we not share some responsibility for their formation? Have we isolated ourselves so much that others do not have a right understanding of who we are and what we believe?

As with so many areas of life, I believe balance is called for in this situation. One of our famous pastors (forgive my aging memory as to which one), when asked about his religion, replied, “Well, I hate to brag, but I’m a Seventh-day Adventist.” Another reply to that question is, “The Bible tells me I’m going to be a Seventh-day Sabbath keeper in Heaven (See Isaiah 66:22,23), so I’m just getting a headstart down here.”

We need not shy away from who we are and what we believe. We need to follow the counsel as Peter recorded in 1 Peter 3:15b (NLT): “And if someone asks you about your hope as a believer, always be ready to explain it.” Having said that, however, we need to be so careful that we do not become exclusionary. For our church to be healthy and growing, we need to be open, warm, and welcoming. We must never sacrifice our principles or beliefs, but neither should we allow them to be a dividing wall between us and everyone else.

–Ron Price is a member of the RMC executive committee from Farmington, New Mexico. Email him at: [email protected]

By Michael Morss

As a fourth generation Adventist, going to church was a way of life for me, but having spent most of my twenties out- side of the church, when I finally decided to go back, the transition was not as easy as I had anticipated. My exploration began with a prominent church in Chattanooga, Tennessee. I was met by friendly greeters who faithfully handed me a bulletin and helped direct me to the sanctuary, but that’s where it became awkward. After the initial welcome, no one spoke to me for the rest of my visit. I have to be honest; at this point, I didn’t want to return. I ended up visiting several other churches, and having similar experiences.

Unfortunately for many, when visiting a church, their first encounter is much the same. Thom Rainer has surveyed hundreds of guests regarding their experience when visiting a church for the first time, and in his book Becoming a Welcoming Church he identifies unfriendly church members, in- sider church language, and boring or bad church services as three of the top ten reasons why visitors don’t return. While I don’t believe the churches I visited were unfriendly, they did a poor job of making me feel welcome.

Looking back, I now realize that many churches struggle with the dilemma of being friendly but not welcoming. Speaking to this challenge, Rainer says, “Churches perceive they are a friendly church because the members are friendly to one another . . .”1 In other words, they have well established relationships, so they see their church as welcoming, but this is where many churches and leaders go wrong.

As I reflect on my own faith journey, I can’t help but think that this is a blind spot in the Adventist Church that must be addressed. We spend millions of dollars every year in an effort to win souls to Christ’s kingdom. Taking that into consideration, we can’t afford to lose guests—especially when they come to us. So how do we move past just being friendly to becoming a truly welcoming church? Let me present three ways I believe our church can progress in this area.

Empathy. Jesus exemplified what it means to show empathy towards others. Hebrews 4:15 reminds us that we have a high priest who is able to empathize with our weaknesses. He’s walked in our shoes, and therefore is merciful and long- suffering with me and you. The great challenge we face is that many of us have been here for so long that we have nearly, if not fully, forgotten what it was like to be a new face in the church. But come on, we all know what it’s like to be a new student at school, or the new guy or girl on the job. It’s a place of vulnerability, and in the church, this is a time that requires nurturing and a safe environment in order to grow. When I find myself being judgmental of others, I reflect on God’s patience and loving kindness in my own life, and I am reminded that I am here not to judge, but to return to others what God has given to me.

Another way we can empathize with others is by taking time to listen longer than we normally would, and part of that is learning to listen with our hearts as much as our ears. In the compilation A Call to Stand Apart, we are reminded to, “Learn about others’ needs! That knowledge kindles empathy, which is the basis for effective ministry.”2 In so doing, I would argue that we will have a much greater chance of reaching the hearts of those visiting our churches, which ultimately fosters a welcoming culture. Unfortunately, this was missing in some of the churches that I visited on my way back to God, and continues to be a void for many when visiting parishes throughout the Adventist Church. Often this is not purposeful, but a result of members lacking awareness.

Follow-up is just as important. One church finally got it right when they connected with me through an interest card. Within a few days of filling it out, I received a call to join the worship team, and for me, this was the determining factor that caused me to join that church.

As pointed out in Rainer’s survey, another obstacle for church guests is insider church language, and as Adventists, this is an area in which we are guilty as charged. As harmless as it may seem, it is often our dialect that impedes our ability to effectively connect with visitors. I recently read about a couple that decided to give church another shot after step- ping away for more than five years. One of the main reasons cited for their exit was that too often the pastor preached on subjects that were completely irrelevant to their lives. Thank- fully, this was not an issue that I encountered, but then again, I was raised as an Adventist. Nonetheless, whether it is Adventist church-speak, or a message from the pulpit, I think it’s safe to say we can never be too careful in making sure our message is relevant for those who may wander in.

Service. Empathy and intentionality play a huge role in welcoming guests into our church, but I would argue that our greatest opportunity to connect and impact the wayward stranger is through service. To be clear, I’m not talking about our church service. Rather, I’m speaking of serving our local communities. This can happen in many different ways, including random acts of kindness, taking a stand for social justice in the community, or serving at the local hospital or police department.

This does two things. First, it helps people in the community see Jesus in our church which communicates that they are accepted, and secondly, it helps our church learn how to effectively interact with people outside our church walls. In a word, it keeps us relevant, which will ultimately help those visiting our churches to feel welcome.

For Rainer, “Welcoming means going. . . . The welcoming church is not merely a church that waits for the world to arrive at the physical address of the congregation. . . . It represents the mindset of an outward focus rather than inward focus. It is about serving rather than being served.”4

Conclusion. As I consider my church in the context of reaching strangers, I am reminded of the song “If We Are the Body” by Mark Hall of Casting Crowns. The lyrics of the second verse and chorus are as follows:

A traveler is far away from home
He sheds his coat and quietly sinks into the back row The weight of their judgmental glances
Tells him that his chances are better out on the road But if we are the body
Why aren’t His arms reaching?
Why aren’t His hands healing?
Why aren’t His words teaching?
And if we are the body
Why aren’t His feet going?
Why is His love not showing them there is a way? Jesus is the way

If we’re not careful, we can become a barrier to Christ. I pray the Lord finds us faithful . . .

–Michael Morss is Campion Seventh-day Adventist pastor of discipleship. Email him at: [email protected]

Footnotes: Rainer, T. (2018). Becoming a Welcoming Church, Location 224. White, E. G. (2002). A Call to Stand Apart, p. 84. 3Muchow, R. (2011). 5 Must-Know Facts About 4 First-TimeGuests[online].ChurchLeaders. Rainer,T.(2018).BecomingaWelcoming Church, Location 1029.

By Ed Barnett

Just a little more than a week ago, I was at the year-end meetings for the North American Division wondering, along with others, what Randy Robinson, the new treasurer for the Division would deliver in his first treasurer’s report. I was curious about how he would deal with the financial planning of our church. He began with a picture of a beautiful retired couple sitting at their kitchen table writing out their check for tithes and offerings. This beautiful picture, he explained, was common in this household as they faithfully give of their monies for God’s work with each increase.

Then he explained that because of Mr. and Mrs. Jones and many others like them we must faithfully give account for every penny given to God’s work around the globe. Whenever we use money given by God’s faithful people, we must keep in mind the Joneses and their faithful trust in God’s work. I was impressed with our new treasurer.

Every penny that comes into God’s work must be carefully and faithfully used toward God’s work. I am proud that our Rocky Mountain Conference is audited each year and care- fully checked for legality and faithfulness. Once again, auditors gave us a clean audit and were impressed with the work that George Crumley and his team are doing.

It is the faithfulness of God’s people in our conference that makes it possible for us to fulfill our mission of taking the Gospel of Jesus to everyone in our territory. Most of our members have humble salaries, but are nonetheless faithful. Some of our believers are financially blessed and able to give large sums of money, but all God asks is that each of us be a faithful steward of whatever He has given us.

Many give hundreds of dollars to God’s work each month; some give thousands, but as long as God’s people are faithful, we have a steady stream of funds to do His bidding. These are the monies used to make our monthly and yearly budgets.

Once in a while, someone will sell a piece of property or a business, giving them the ability to return a onetime event tithe and offering on that blessing. We call this windfall tithe and since we can’t count on it happening again, we never budget using hoped-for windfall tithe.

Checks and electronic monies are faithfully given all over our conference, sometimes in small amounts, sometimes in large sums. It is amazing to see the generosity and faithfulness of God’s people. A windfall tithe from a property sale just short of a million dollars came in this year and I wondered what it would be like to write out a check of that size. I was reminded that every gift, no matter the size, from a faithful supporter of God’s work receives the same blessing as the return of a smaller yet honest and faithful amount.

Last year, more than seventeen million dollars came into our conference through tithes and offerings from faithful people who care about God’s work in our conference and beyond. God is blessing His work here in the Rocky Mountain Conference. Both my wife and I are grateful to be able to faithfully give our funds into God’s work.

It reminds me of the words found in Malachi 3:10-12:

“‘Bring the whole tithe into the storehouse, that there may be food in my house. Test me in this,’ says the LORD Almighty, ‘and see if I will not throw open the floodgates of heaven and pour out so much blessing that there will not be room enough to store it. I will prevent pests from devouring your crops, and the vines in your fields will not drop their fruit before it is ripe,’ says the LORD Almighty. ‘Then all the nations will call you blessed, for yours will be a delightful land,’ says the LORD Almighty.”

It is a joy to be faithful in God’s tithes and offerings. When I look back over my life and ministry in the church, I can say unequivocally that God has blessed us way beyond what we deserve. He is always faithful to His word.

We are nearing the end of another year and, believe it or not, 2020 will soon be upon us. I invite you to continue your faithfulness to God as we finish the year, and you will receive blessings beyond measure and beyond belief.

–Ed Barnett is RMC president. Email him at: [email protected]

By George Crumley

Have you ever thought about how the word liberality turns up the volume on giving? Liberality totally changes the entire trajectory. Together the words “liberal giving” transform mundane and thoughtless giving into intentional amounts that go beyond the necessary or expected.

Painting a picture in my mind’s eye, synonyms with nearly the same meaning as liberal opened up panoramic views: Bighearted giving, generous giving, bountiful giving, openhanded giving and unselfish giving. The additional colors and textures of liberality convert simple giving into a masterpiece that replicates a picture of who Jesus is. On the opposite end of the portrait spectrum, liberal giving cannot  coexist with antonyms like cheap, miserly, or stingy.

In the true story of the Good Samaritan are the visible strokes of what true religion looks like; giving so liberally that the one in need receives the greatest amount of good.

As the story goes, a traveler was headed to Jericho through a rough and rocky gorge when he was violently attacked by several malicious men. Through the bloody struggle the gang forcefully ripped off his clothes, took anything of value, and carelessly left his bruised and bleeding body lying on the sandy floor of the desert. I imagine, in his suffering, the traveler was too weak to even summon help as he faintly recognized the sound of footsteps in the near distance. But then, finally, someone was brave enough to draw near to where the suffering traveler helplessly lay. As he neared the scene of inhumanity, his heart was moved by a compassion that drowned out any concerns for his own safety or forgetting to his destination on time.

After visually assessing the situation, this Good Samaritan grabbed some oil, wine, and bandaging material from the saddlebag that he had packed for his own journey and began to carefully attend to this man’s wounds. He could have stopped after this thoughtful act because he had done more than others who had passed by. But then he carefully lifted the traveler onto his donkey and proceeded ever so slowly over the rough terrain, so as to not cause additional pain.

Step by step they pressed on until they reached the shelter of an inn. They made it! At this point, he could have stopped his giving and returned to his own journey, but he stayed through the night in case the traveler should need his help. In the morning, when there were signs of improvement in the traveler’s condition, the Good Samaritan decided it was OK to leave. He could have stopped giving then, but as he passed the checkout desk, he asked the innkeeper to keep an eye on the traveler and handed him two silver coins— enough, some scholars say, to have allowed the man to stay in his room and recover for about two months. For certain the Good Samaritan could have stopped giving then, but he made a pledge to the innkeeper that he would return and reimburse him for any extra expenses that might arise.

What polar opposite effects were played out on the life of one man! Some hearts were so blocked off from human sympathy by the desire for selfish profit that they didn’t stop at stealing from the traveler, but maliciously inflicted agonizing pain before carelessly walking away. And then there was the Good Samaritan (whose cultural background ironically had the reputation of disregarding God’s ways), whose heart was so filled with compassion that he didn’t stop helping until he had done the greatest amount of good that he could.

God doesn’t insist that we liberally give so as to rob us of our 401K or to keep us from experiencing pleasure. But liberal giving keeps us from the desire for selfish gain and status that would eventually lead us to callously neglect those who are hurting. This kind of giving leads us to be watchful for the needs of those around us and then take action to provide them with what is most helpful.

Our churches need you and me to be personally engaged in being a blessing to Christ and others. Hungering hearts need our churches to overflow with a liberality of food that satisfies their deep longings. We all need the Lord. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if every church was ignited with liberality and Rocky Mountain Conference could support hundreds of individuals to do full-time ministry for our precious Lord?

In all your giving, the faithful returning of God’s ten percent tithe and liberal offerings are very much needed and appreciated by those who are suffering and who have been delivered from the emptiness caused by sin.

–George Crumley is RMC VP for finance. Email him at: [email protected]

By Carol Bolden

It was in the heat of the day that the three strangers drew near Abraham’s tent. The conversation that ensued involved the safety or destruction of an entire city.

They met on a road, the two men distraught after a traumatic weekend, the Man who joined them the risen Savior. The conversation that followed revealed Scripture in a way the two men had never before understood.

Meeting at the village gathering place for water, the five-time divorcee and the Savior of the world made a connection that led to the evangelization of her town.

Not every conversation with a stranger is as meaningful as these examples, but even a quick exchange in a Costco check-out line can be rewarding and could even lead to the transformation of a life. We were made to be relational. In fact, these types of exchanges are some of the great perks of life. People can be, in turns, inspiring, comforting, affirming, open- hearted, and generous. Yes, that’s not always the case, but I’ve made so many positive connections in my travels around the United States with husband these past several months And who knows when a divine appointment has been planned for you? Conversations give us the opportunity to connect with people of other religions, countries, races, and communities. They build bridges toward peaceful, rewarding relationships that create bonds. Our relational God gives us opportunity to connect in mutually satisfying ways.

I met an open-hearted woman in Grand Coulee, Montana, while attending a very small church of just six people. All were friendly, but one woman, the speaker for the day, spent time talking with me and praying for my needs. I was touched.

In Lewiston, Idaho, in a much larger church of around 150 members, I enjoyed an affirming exchange with a woman who taught the Sabbath School class. As she shared personal stories that enhanced the lesson, I interacted during the class and afterward told her how much I appreciated her teaching. “I think we could be friends,” she said. “I was thinking the same thing,” I responded. It was a beautiful connection.

Ninety-three-year-old Betty at the Prescott, Arizona, church was an inspiring connection. She wields a hammer, I was told, like she’s 30. She just finished building a wall at the end of her porch and she still climbs a ladder! Sitting beside her in a Sabbath School class, I marveled at her spirit. She was deter- mined to live fully till the end, whenever that might come.

Another open-hearted connection happened at Fort Peck Downstream Campground where we befriended a couple traveling by converted van. Together, we walked around the campground sharing good conversation about life. When they left, they invited us to enjoy their photoblog as we hugged, thankful to have met.

It’s good to experience both the giving and the receiving of generosity.

A couple near Coulee Dam joined us at our outdoor picnic table one evening after they pulled into the campsite next to us and joined us again in our motorhome the next morning for animated conversation. Before leaving, they invited us to park in their driveway when we reached western Washington. Such generosity from a brand-new acquaintance!

Near the beginning of our journey, a young man in Pierre, North Dakota, pulled into the campsite next to ours on his motorcycle. When I realized the next morning that he would probably have to find a restaurant in order to eat, I invited him to share a hot breakfast with us. It was a wonderful opportunity to enjoy young thinking with someone at the beginning stages of life’s decision-making and a way to pass on the generosity we have received.

Like the early church, we are more likely to find the richest benefits in smaller groups than in large congregations. They give us the opportunity to demonstrate and receive God’s love. When we are forgiven by someone, we feel God’s love. When we are appreciated by someone, we feel God’s love. Every day, we’re given opportunities to be a stand-in for God.

“If only we could sense how important we are to the lives of those we meet; how important we can be to people we never dream of. There is something of yourself that you leave at every meeting with another person,” said Fred Rogers, that gentle man who loved relating to children.

Once there was a young boy who wanted to meet God. He knew it was a long trip to where God lived, so he packed his suit- case with Twinkies and root beer and started on his journey. His dad always told him that he spent time with God whenever he went fishing so the boy figured he should walk along the shoreline to find God’s home.

After a while, he met an old woman who was sitting on a bench on the shore watching the seagulls. He sat down next to her and opened his suitcase and was about to take a drink of his root beer when he noticed that she looked hungry, so he offered her a Twinkie. She smiled at him and accepted. Her smile was so pretty that he wanted to see it again so he offered her a root beer. Again, she smiled and accepted. The boy was delighted. They sat there all afternoon eating and smiling, but neither said a word.

As it grew dark, the boy became tired and got up to leave. But before he left, he gave the old woman a long hug and she gave him another giant smile. When the boy returned home, his mother was surprised by the look of pure joy on his face. “What did you do today that made you so happy?” she asked. “I had lunch with God,” he replied. But before his mother could respond, he said, “You know what? She’s got the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen!”

Meanwhile, the old woman returned to her home full of joy. Her daughter was stunned by the look of peace on her face and asked her, “Mom, what did you do today that made you so happy?” She replied, “I ate Twinkies at the beach with God.”

Both were a stand-in for God that day.

As a young person, I was extremely shy and found it painful to hold a conversation with strangers. I mostly avoided people when I could. In my early 20s, I decided to make a change and put forth the effort to connect with people. That’s when I realized that other people can be shy too and that greeting people in passing was a good way to connect. So, I made the decision to be friendly regardless of the response. It was the beginning of being set free of my shy- ness. It didn’t happen overnight, but it was a beginning. In embracing and welcoming others, we create community. In letting go of the familiar and embracing the not-yet-familiar, we find commonality.

Life begins at the end of our comfort zone and it’s a life worth living.

–Carol Bolden is traveling through the United States in a motorhome with her husband Thom. Read her blog: (https://outlookmag.org/off-to-see- america-traveling-by-motorhome/). She was communication assistant at RMC until her retirement in August 2019. Email her at: [email protected]

By Doug Inglish

Dotted around the Rocky Mountain Conference are many small churches. I consider them vital, because they represent the Adventist message in communities that might not otherwise have access to it. Beyond providing worship opportunities for the faithful few members, they exist so that within those communities, the message is alive, and whatever harvest results is worth it all.

But it is also true that in some of those places, those faithful few don’t have anyone who would attend a church school or academy. There is no one of the appropriate age to attend Glacier View Ranch or Mill Springs Ranch, and none of the people are really the camping type so they don’t attend family camp. Usually, none is in a position to benefit from the services of La Vida Mission. And, assuming the church is in good repair and adequate for their needs, there will be no major purchases or renovations. So, other than maybe sharing periodically in the evangelism fund, what interest would there be in supporting Rocky Mountain Advance, which funds these programs?

There are several potential answers. For one, you never know what the future holds. It’s good to have the assurance that if you do need a major repair, you can get some assistance. And if you rejoice in welcoming a new family, whether through baptism or transfer, the experiences their children have at camp can bless your people now and help hold on to the next generation. Same goes for Campion Academy. Even if no one in our church is able to take advantage of those ministries now, keeping them going could prove to be a blessing to someone close to you down the road.

Another reason to support these ministries is that the ones who are blessed by them now may someday find themselves living in your community. The person who gave his heart to Jesus when he went to a church school years ago which your advance offering supported may get a job that brings him into your congregation. A few years later, having discovered and developed his gifts at the academy supported by your offerings, he is now prepared to use those gifts in your church.

But I believe the strongest argument for supporting these ministries is a selfless one. Even if I never see any of it come back to my church, somebody was blessed by them. After all, not all of my offerings need to be for things directly connected to me. I have supported mission offerings for years without ever meeting the people who went to the church I helped build in a country I never visited. Nothing in it for me but the certainty that many will be in the kingdom because of millions of people like me who gave because we saw something beyond ourselves worth supporting.

But why should we only bless those on other continents? Churches within a couple hours drive from me are carrying on ministries that my church may not be in a position to carry out ourselves. But the people blessed by those ministries are no less precious to Heaven that the ones on the other side of the globe. The Rocky Mountain Advance offering is there to support them.

No matter where I am, or what my church is doing, the ministries supported by the Advance offering are hit and miss as to whether they will affect my immediate situation. All of us can participate in evangelism. Few will even set foot on La Vida Mission’s campus. But we can all be supportive. Your generosity is appreciated by students, by campers, by people hearing our message, and by those who gather in churches with new roofs and upgraded bathrooms. Bless you all.

–Doug Inglish is RMC director of planned giving and trust services. Email him at: [email protected]

By Mark Witas

“Honor the Lord with your wealth” (Proverbs 3:9).

I believe in spiritual gifts. I believe some people are given the gift of tongues. Others, the gift of healing. Still others, the gifts of teaching, prophecy, or hospitality. I don’t believe Paul (or any other Bible author) has given us an exhaustive list of all spiritual gifts. One I think was left out (at least in my reading) is the gift of making money. I know people who have as their primary spiritual gift a divine talent for turning one dollar into millions. They are just really, really good at making money.

Spiritual gifts can be used for the benefit of others or for selfish gain.

I have a relative who was gifted at making money to the point that he dropped out of high school in the tenth grade because, in his words, “Why should I waste my time in school when I can be making money?”

By the time he was in his early twenties he was a millionaire many times over. He had his hands in everything from gold mines to earth moving equipment; from corporate helicopters to exotic animals for zoos. His home boasted priceless paintings.. He had a huge building on his property to house all his vintage automobiles and toys of every description. He had the Midas touch, no doubt.

And then he died.

All his life his ambition was to make more and more. This ambition cost him several marriages. It cost him friends. It cost him relationships with his children. From all outward manifestations and observations, he was a selfish and petty man.

The wisdom writer admonishes us to honor the Lord with our wealth. That is to say, when we are blessed, it’s our task and obligation, but more than that, our joy, to bless the world with the blessings we have received. When we do, our joy, our relationships, our peace of mind, our relationship with God and people will be blessed. It’s not something God necessarily orchestrates this way, it’s just how love works. When love is received, it’s given away.  And when the circle works as it’s designed, His Kingdom comes, on earth as it is in heaven.

So, I wrote about a stingy relative of mine who was blessed with the spiritual gift of making and managing money. Now, I’d like to give an example of how to use wealth to bless and grow the Kingdom.

I have a friend who is the richest person I’ve ever met. Just before I left the district where I was preaching and where he lives, he said, “Mark I just closed on a deal and I don’t know what to do with all this extra money.”

I’m no financial advisor, but I asked (maybe impolitely), “Oh? How much money did this deal put in your pocket?

“Just north of $260 million”

It took a second for me to catch my breath.

He continued, “I don’t know what to do with all of it. My kids are all wealthy, my grandkids are taken care of—it’s a real problem.”

Let me tell you more about this person. He has spent his life mentoring others on how to make lots of money for themselves. He’s the only rich person I know who has far more friends than enemies. In fact, I don’t know that he has any enemies.

One Christmas, I accompanied him as he went from charitable organization to charitable organization, giving each of them a Christmas gift of $10,000. Boy Scouts, Rotary Club, Salvation Army, you name it. We went to dozens of these organizations. He never asks for a thank you. Refuses to have anything named after himself. He just loves to give. He’s built schools, conference offices, and churches.

Each day he comes into his office dressed in a suit that he bought sometime in the 1970s, reads the financials and does what he does best. Makes money.

One day I asked him why he comes to work each day. “Why don’t you just go live on a beach or on a yacht or something?”

His answer? “Why would I do that? I’d hate that. I like being here interacting with the people and watching my money do good things for the people in this community.”

Another time I referenced “his money.” He stopped me. “Oh Mark, this isn’t my money. It’s all God’s money. He’s just asked me to manage it for Him.”

This is the attitude a believer must take – whether they’ve got millions or merely hundreds in the bank.

–Mark Witas is the lead pastor at Sunnyside Adventist Church in Portland, Oregon. His reflection on Proverbs 3:9–12 appeared in Daily Walk, a Bible study series built around the sermons at Boulder Adventist Church in con junction with several other churches. Reprinted by permission. Email him at: [email protected].

by Heather Thompson Day

“What makes the desert beautiful is that somewhere it hides a well.” —Antoine de Saint-Exupery

When I was six years old I was told I would be taking the bus to school. I was immediately aware that this was a terrible idea; my father however, wasn’t following my line of thinking. I didn’t want to take the bus. There were giant children on them, children that were hardly children at all. There were mean, unruly boys who I knew would pull my ponytail and call me names. Plus, there were weird kids, and who knew who I would be forced to sit by?

I walked out of my bedroom and began to eat my break- fast; the realization of what was about to occur took full heat over my body and I sobbed. I pleaded and begged with my father not to make me ride bus. I made deals and promises I knew I’d never keep. I offered to do everyone’s chores for a month, and he said we all needed to share the responsibility. I said he could deduct my allowance, which was only a couple dollars a week, and he said I should be saving. I said I’d get all A’s, which he told me was expected. I said I’d do the laundry, dry the dishes, wash the car, and walk the dog, and he reminded me that I would be doing those things anyway, plus, we didn’t own a dog.

I grabbed his arm and pulled my hair. I stomped my feet and let snot fall from my nose. I told him I’d do anything as long as he’d keep me off that bus. Regardless, there I was ten minutes later, waiting at the bus stop. I watched the leaves roll past my untied sneakers and reached for my dad’s hand. I had convinced my father to walk me to the bus stop, even though it was right behind our apartment building. I squeezed his hand as if I was checking for his pulse. My father was a man of few words anyway. He’d answer most questions with the nod of his head and somehow cram paragraphs into a sentence.

I was a complete daddy’s girl. I had spent years wedging myself into this man’s soft spot, and I couldn’t believe that he was turning on me now. I felt the sweat collecting underneath my armpits as that yellow bus rolled around the corner. Tears welled up in my eyes again, as I looked at my father one last time. I swallowed back the large lump that had collected in my throat and gave his wrist one last final squeeze as if to signal to him that if there was ever a time to save me, it was now. He leaned down over me and kissed my forehead.

“This is going to be good for you,” he whispered as the bus put on its brakes. “I’ll be here when you get off to take you home.”

I wanted him to change his mind. I wanted him to look in the windows and see all those children who were at least triple my size and realized they could kill me if they pleased. As he pulled his body upright, I clung to his neck.

“I love you daddy!” I squealed in his ear, half sincere, and half new war tactic. After all, I was desperate. I could feel my heart literally drop as I turned to walk onto the bus, admit- ting defeat. I wiped my tears as I found myself taking my place on the last seat of the bus. I pressed my face against the glass of the window. The chill of it bit my skin, and so I bit my lip and focused on my daddy. My father stood stationary staring at me as the bus began to pull away. The air began to mist and I kept my face pressed to the bus window as I found myself inching away from my father. He stood there, un- flinching, like an old cypress oak in winter whose roots are firm and solid.

It may have been my imagination, or the mist on the window, but I could swear that in that moment, I saw my father cry. I couldn’t be sure from the distance, but from where I was sitting, I could have sworn I saw tears fill his eyes and his nostrils flare. I had never seen him cry before. Not when I fell off the handle bars of my bike and the smack of the concrete filled my mouth with blood, not when I stuck to my story about not stealing the quarters from his change jar, even though he knew I had. Not even when I wrote him a poem I was certain would bring him to his knees. But then, from the seat of the bus he had put me on, I saw it.

Sometimes I think that God is cruel. There have been times that I catch myself wondering how He can watch me down here, going through all this turmoil and just stand still. I wonder why He won’t just leap in and save me.

To this day however, when I think of love, I think of my dad putting me on that bus. There will always be situations that take you outside your comfort zone, but you still have to get on the bus. It’s the bus that makes you grow. It’s surviving something you thought you could never get through, that makes you strong.

I understand this now. And in those moments when I wonder where God is, I press my face to the glass of that bus window and I see that through the mist, He is still there. With tears in His eyes, He is rooting us through it. And just like with my daddy, when the brakes push and the wind blows, when the ride is over and you get off stronger, He will be there, just like He promised, waiting to take you home.

“. . . Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? . . . No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us . . .” (Romans 8:35-37).

–Heather Thompson Day, PhD, is a communication professor at Colorado Christian University and author of six books, including Confessions of a Christian Wife. Email her at: [email protected]