N. L. Brumbaugh, A Transformed Life

Easter Sunrise in the Hills of Red Bluff, CA

Two Women, Two Conversations, Two Circumstances

The Easter Sunrise at my brother’s place on the hills of Red Bluff is special. We sit on folding chairs or on blankets strewn on the ground on a hill with oak trees interspersed around us. People draw stadium blankets around their legs and arms to keep warm. It is a beautiful morning. Crisp and cool. The birds are singing profusely. We face the east to watch the sunrise. My brother and wife have invited the neighbors. Many have come. I’m there with my family and a friend.

Easter sunrise service in the hills of Red Bluff. Thanks Paul and Kimberley.

Posted by Norma Brumbaugh Wieland on Sunday, March 27, 2016

My brother says a few words and then three readers read messianic passages. We sing a song led by my sister-in-law and her sister, as she plays the guitar, then three passages of Jesus’ words are read. We sing again, and then one more layer. The sun is coming up. We end with Morning Has Broken, one of my all time favorite songs. The sun is a full orb on the singing of the last verse. It is right on schedule. Thrilling. We appreciate the array of lavender to purple wildflowers resplendent among the grasses on the hill. There is a quietness in the air. We follow the trails down to the house where we will share a communal meal.

There I see a woman I met the year before and we begin to talk. She asks about my writing. I ask about her church. We talk family. We talk spiritual. We spend the rest of the early morning talking. She shares. I share. She reaches over and touches my hand and asks if she can pray for me. With her hand touching mine, she begins to pray for me, for the Easter morning, and all that Easter brings forth, pausing once in awhile for silent prayer with her Father God. It is a long prayer and I am blessed. The two of us have joined in the sweetness of spontaneous fellowship. She heard my heart, and she cared.

There is something beautiful in that. Today is another day. I promised I would meet with a friend of mine. She texts me and we determine a time and place. It feels slightly different this time. She is reticent. Lots has happened since we last met. I sense her need for assurance. She is quiet, reflective, close to tears as we skip topic to topic and then land on something that anchors our conversation. She’s been going through it with a lot on her plate, but she is learning the greater secret, what it is to trust in God when you cannot see the way. Although it is hard, she is stronger. I see this in her. And tell her so. There is a new calmness about her.

She faced an obstacle and met it with grace. The crisis did not defeat her. The joy of Jesus comes after the storm has passed. There is something about the storm that causes us to trust in God even when we lose heart. There is so much that causes us to fear and tremble because we know not the outcome. I see in my Christian sister’s eyes; the tears that brim when the heart feels its truth. I get that. God is close, with us, and alive and real. I am encouraged by her comments. Her words lift my spirit. I tell her she is in a metamorphosis and will soon become a butterfly. I believe it. The day has been full. Sweet. Gentle. Blessed.

Random Journal Quotes

Journal 11 – 2015

There are missions we are given to do by God that are not neat and tidy. My views are not neat and tidy. Today I was reading a blog by a former fundamentalist. She was writing about misunderstanding race. An African-American joined in. His anger was apparent but not rude. He said those on the other side will never understand the marginalized because they have not lived it. It made me think of my professor and his comment that the playing field will never be even. There is a thread to this conversation that I am starting to understand. Prejudice is taught by example. Equality is lived by example. I feel contemporary Christianity has failed and failed miserably.We are not like Christ (broadly speaking, not everyone). We play it close to the vest, make our own choices, choose our own path, and live for self—a pious, self-righteous, careful path. What if we were to live it differently—really love our neighbor as oneself, really not count the cost, really and truly live for Jesus Christ without restraint? Our homes would become hospitals for wounded people, and we would become changed. Amen.

Journal 11 – 2016

It is good to feel God coming close. I am refreshed in spirit. There is a difference about me. The burden has lifted. Praise is here (at the monastery). I took pictures for a young couple by the grape arbor. She has a nasty scar on her face. She is pretty and looked lovely. And she is kind, I can tell. Her man seemed discourteous to her, ignoring, and then bossing her. How I dislike that kind of thing.

Thank you for this place of peace. Thank you for answering my prayer and bringing peace—sweet, true, deep peace. That was a God-thing. Father, I have become a ‘big tent’ Christian. I no longer like labels. Thank you, Father God, for every step that you give me, every truth that I discover, every joy and every sorrow. I am so grateful. You take broken people and restore them. You lift our cares. You minister to us. You set us free to live again. You bring healing where there was none. You are my rock, my fortress. I’m so thankful.

We trust in the Lord, our God. In God we trust.

Journal 11 – 2017

God often calls us to leave what is “safe,” to let go of our prejudices, our biases, limited parameters, and well-defined boxes. God calls us to love. We don’t get to choose, He chooses for us. There are lines we must cross out of obedience to His teachings and message. My walk is not your walk. How can I tell you what God would have you to do? I can’t. That is His business. We can be blind—so blind—to the work of God. We cannot choose whom we are going to love. We love those whom God brings to us, whom He puts in our path, whom He directs us to seek out. There is wisdom in this. We are kept from planning our own destiny, by leaving our destiny up to God. How shallow our thinking is at times. But God is never shallow. He is wisdom personified. In Him is abundant wisdom. Trust is well-placed when it rests in Him. We need to leave what is safe, to step into the unscripted way of the cross—the road less traveled. Our friends and family may not understand, but that is not our concern. They don’t have to. Instead we must have the courage to step out into the center of God’s great big will for us, even if it causes consternation and pain to those who do not understand the way of the cross in us. Safe? Forsaking all, we follow Christ. God calls us to unconditional love. We tend to put conditions on whom we are going to love.

Norma L. Brumbaugh