Prevailing Winds "For the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is there is freedom . . ." 2 Cor. 3:17, TNIV

How very kind of my younger brother to remind me that I’m now “four dozen and one.” Such a card, he is — and only 362 days younger than I am.

But today is my birthday, and I’m celebrating another year of just being alive and living in the most wonderful town in America with a really great husband and two wonderful sons, both of whom are bringing young ladies to my birthday dinner tomorrow (both women like me, so it’s not just for the free food at Applebee’s, which is a gift in itself!). Jeff and I hosted a dozen for dinner Saturday night — my famous chili, both vegan and the “a-cow-died-for-your-dinner” kind — and it was really nice to have my in-laws and my niece’s boyfriend’s mom here. But Jeff worked behind the scenes to make it a birthday party for me, and I was delighted. Vegan cupcakes for everyone, and the wine and beer flowed generously for the five of us who drink. It was a great time, and by 4:00 Sunday, the kitchen was finally clean. Or clean-ish.

I don’t often write of personal, family things on Prevailing Winds, because readers who are interested in that sort of thing are already friends or family members, and the rest of you couldn’t possibly care less, except that you now know that vegan cupcakes are just as good as regular ones. But I’ve been thinking a lot about the people close to me and how, as I approach 50, they’ve helped mold me and refine me into the woman I am now. Surprisingly, I think, it’s the people I’ve met since we moved to Moscow in February 2002 who have been especially used by God in my life, and the wonderful people I know and love here have not only made Moscow feel like home — really, like the place God intended me to live all along — but have helped me grow into who God has intended me to be all along. He’s given me a prophetic voice, and I’ve learned much about how to use it.

This may cause dismay to many of you, I know.

I get comments all the time about how I should pull back and just write about . . . well, something, as long as it’s not related to Doug Wilson or the Kirk. Or sexism. Or racism. Or “liberal” stuff, which is especially amusing, as Moscow’s liberals criticize my “anti-liberal” positions on business and schools. Besides, I see the Scriptures’ teachings on righteousness and justice and gender to be far above the “left-right” political spectrum; I just see it all as the Third Way of Christ, as I’ve written before — not “left-wing,” not “right-wing,” just Christian. (The Dove, representing the Holy Spirit’s work in the world, flies with both wings, as distressing as this is to some of us!)

But as I come to recognize and fan into flame the spiritual gifts I have and embrace the experiences that undergird their place in my life and ministry, I feel in myself a growing, unquenchable passion for justice and righteousness in this world — and a growing, unsquelchable impatience with those, especially in the Church, who impede them. The Gospel has, especially in the last several years, blossomed and burned into my very soul. While I would not list “evangelism” as my strongest gift, I find that I run into opportunities almost every day to speak of Christ to someone in need, and even as our financial situation shifts, I’m able to meet material needs as God does the loaves-and-fishes work with the little I have. I have always wanted to speak for those who have no voice, and speak louder, even, with the voice I have. When I moved to Moscow, I had worked intensively, sometimes 20 hours a week while raising two young boys, for almost a dozen years in my one-person ministry to undocumented Mexican workers in our area in Snohomish and King counties, teaching English, distributing Bibles and food, translating, mediating, advocating for, pastoring, and generally just serving the 200 or so wonderful people God led me to. I knew that wouldn’t continue when I lived in Moscow; there’d be no “Iglesia Vecinos” (roughly translated, “The Neighborly Church”), where I’d pastored. So I floundered just a bit, wondering what to do.

But there’s a lot happening in Moscow — the attentive, discerning Christian knows something’s terribly amiss, a splotch on the Portrait of the Gospel In Moscow. You can miss it if you try, and you can ignore it if you choose to. Or, you could speak words that ring out the Good News of the Gospel in the face of a storm of words that don’t. I don’t know why more don’t speak out; I do know why I do, and with God’s grace, I’ll continue. Mine might be a lonely voice, but it’s a necessary one, and it’s supported and refined by the believers in my life who see, and who know. And today, especially, I’m led to acknowledge how much the Lord has used my friends here to refine, encourage, correct, and teach me. And so:

CB, you are the sister I never had, and the friend I never knew could exist. SW and AE, you’ll never know how the Holy Spirit has used you in my life. BB, you’ve got my back and you’ve got my heart — always. BR, seeing you grow in the Lord is such a gift! JP, you’re a steadfast and patient Galoot and a true gem. C and WP, thanks for all the good times this past year — but only if you promise more! SP, your encouragement and love make such a difference. RH, you inspire me to be stronger than I feel. My church family, all dozen of you, I love you and the work you do for Christ. And DCB, my aman cara — God knows how, doesn’t he????

OK. I’m gettin’ all teary-like. But I’m always very reflective on my birthday, and very full of plans — I’ll write more, and more neatly, in my journal. I’ll eat better and exercise more. This year, I’ll wear my cowboy boots just because, and I’ll carry my nicest purse and count the scratches in the leather as character. I’m now a non-smoker and almost-vegetarian; I’ve got a couple of friends who are holding me to it. I would love to hit almost-50 without chronic pain, but it beats not hitting almost-50 at all, and the strength and sureness of my steps in no way weakens and wavers my voice and my pen. So it’ll be an exciting year, just because life always is. Thanks to all of you who read Prevailing Winds, and thanks especially to my critics, on- and off-line — you keep me sharp, and I take your criticism to heart.

So. It’s my birthday and probably not yours. But let’s each, while the time is short, run the race our Lord has set for us, and run it with integrity and passion. And remember — if you’re not outraged, you’re not paying attention.