S2S Sisters: "Return to Thy Mistress" by Bernice Troyer

Our prayer is that you will be filled with the knowledge of His will, strengthened with all might according to His glorious power. Well, hello everyone, and welcome to Strength to Strength Sisters. I'm Jamila Kurtz, and we are so excited to have you all join us today.

The vision of Strength to Strength Sisters is to encourage women to be catalysts in advancing the kingdom through biblical teaching, testimonies of faithful women, and thought-provoking discussions. I have a few announcements before we start today. This call is intended for sisters only.

Afterward, after our speakers talk, we're going to have a question and answer session. Feel free. We'd love for you to participate. When you do, if you have a question, it'd be nice if you could turn on your camera to ask a question. But if you prefer, you can submit your question through the chat box. That is perfectly fine.

A recording of this session will be available on YouTube and our podcast platform. And just so you know, your faces won't be recorded unless you're speaking. I'm excited for our topic today, Return to Thy Mistress by Bernice Choir. Bernice is joining us from the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains, where she lives with her husband of 34 years, Hosea.

They've lived in Ohio, Kenya, and currently in Virginia, and they're serving at Faith Mission Home, where Hosea is the director. Their family includes nine children, four good in-laws, and eight grandchildren. As Bernice says, "My life is a funny one. Across the years, I have arrogantly decided what I would and wouldn't do. However, for most of those, I don't ever want to declarations, God took my hand and gently led me into it. Large family, home education, mission work, and much more. To my astonishment, I have loved what I thought I wouldn't. I shouldn't have been surprised. Like earthly parents with their children, God knows what we want so much better than we do."

I'd like to add that not only are Bernice and I both mothers of nine, we will also share a huge love for Kenya. She lived in Kenya, I think, for six years. I think that's right. And she's a beloved friend and mentor of mine. I can't tell you how much I've learned from her about what it means to embrace the joy of being God's daughter. So I'd love if you all would join me in praying for her before we turn the time over to her today. So let's pray.

Father God, we just come before You again, and we thank You, God, for the beauty of this opportunity where we can all be in different places. We can be in our living rooms, wherever it may be, and yet we could come together, Lord. So Lord, we're just prepared for You to pour out Your blessings on us today. I ask, Lord, that You be especially with Bernice as she speaks, Lord, that she can just have clear thoughts, and that, Lord, You would just fill her with Your Spirit, Lord, and just, Lord, that Your presence would be here. And for each one of us, Lord, maybe there's going to be something in our life, Lord, that You are touching, Lord, and we just want to have our hearts open and just ready to receive that blessing, Lord, so we can act in obedience to whatever You call us to.

Thank You, Lord, so much for the way You love us, Lord, and we know that we're all Your daughters. Lord, we just ask all these things in the name of Your Son, in Jesus' name. Amen. Okay, Bernice, welcome. We'll turn the time over to you.

Thank you so much, Jamila. It's a real gift, I think, to be in the circle of women who are just wanting to grow in Christ Jesus.

I think about it, that the last words that Jesus gave to His disciples included a prayer that literally included you and me. He prayed passionately that His disciples and those that would believe after them, that we would all be one and love each other so much, so much like He and the Father were one and loved each other.

You know, you can't actually explain to someone where the Father stops and the Son begins. They're one. And this is what He wants of us as Christians, as the body of Christ.

He obviously understood how broken we are and how difficult it would be when you read His prayer. It's like He knew we would need the resurrection power to be kindred with each other, to be one, because we do struggle. I know all of us probably have at least one relationship that we struggle with.

I'd love to hear all of your stories, but I will go ahead and share some of mine. I had a young girlfriend who ordered me around, got me into trouble, and when I resisted her naughtiness, she would say, "Oh, come on. We can always ask for forgiveness afterward." She felt entitled to doing what she desired, entitled to choosing our activities. She felt entitled to my services. Being her little servant was difficult, but the day she made it clear that if I played with my other friends, she wouldn't be my friend anymore, I fell apart. My dad found me sobbing brokenheartedly on my face beside the bed. I felt so out of control, and I couldn't—she wouldn't let me fulfill my desire to be friends with everybody.

And then there were my brothers, my older brothers. As far as they could tell, I hadn't earned any respect, and sadly, they were right. And they felt like they had a right to withhold it. They also felt like they had a right to tease me because it was so much fun.

As a young teen, I felt entitled to do what it took to fulfill my desires. My parents' control was actually scary because I really wanted what I wanted, and they might not agree with what I wanted. So I tried to take control in too many situations. And then there was the time that Hosea and I were in a relationship with a couple who obviously didn't really like us. The unkindness and the vibes we experienced became like a cancer that was going to eat us up. The offenses just played endlessly in our heads.

We felt entitled to their friendship and were grieved and angered oftentimes at their hostility. We felt frustration because we couldn't control the situation.

There was also a woman in my life who coped with her insecurities by doing what Janelle Glick calls triangling. This woman bonded with other people by sharing negative info and feelings about another person. So the triangle was a Sueto connection along the top, sharing bad things about the person. And I performed desperately for this woman because if I didn't keep her happy, I knew full well that I would end up in that unfortunate, unlucky corner of the triangle.

So I think you're hearing recurring words in my stories. There's unfulfilled desire. There's entitlement. There's control. Other words we could use would be personal rights, expectations. I really think about it that the increasing idea in our culture, even among Anabaptist parents, and even just among us as adults, the idea that we shouldn't have to suffer or sacrifice is weighing us down with so much baggage, like personal rights, expectations, control issues, and really just relationship problems.

You know, expectations really make prisoners out of our loved ones. We expect this and we expect that, and we put them in the doghouse if it doesn't happen. Personal rights make prisoners of both ourselves and other people. And when our rights are violated, our rights to be accepted, loved, respected, our rights to have approval from peers, our in-laws, and on and on, we fall apart when our rights are violated because we think we deserve and are entitled. I feel like we're especially vulnerable when it comes to people we love.

In-laws, for instance, we so much want their approval. We're so sensitive because we're a part of the family, but we've come in from the outside. And so we really desire that approval. And when it isn't forthcoming, it is some kind of pain. The closer we are to someone, I think, in relation and in proximity, the more misery we experience when there's a troubled relationship.

I recently just took a poll, asked a variety of friends to think about the woman that was hardest to love and tell me why. And here are a few of the things that they said. She isn't transparent. She manipulates me. She's critical. I can't meet her expectations.

She's offended but won't tell me why. She's always right. My thoughts don't count. It's always about her. She doesn't bother asking about me. She's always comparing, which, by the way, is the thief of joy. The Bible says, "Who can stand before enemy?"

So obviously we struggle.

But now let's talk about Genesis 16, returning to the mistress. In Genesis 16, Sarai feels keenly her unfulfilled desire to have a child. She feels entitled, God promised, right? Apparently, she needs to take control, and she does. She makes Hagar her personal baby machine.

But Hagar also has unfulfilled desires. What she gets, though, is the 86-year-old husband of her mistress showing up at her bedroom door. We actually don't know how she feels about this. I'd love to know more details. But did she feel betrayed by Sarai?

Was she resentful towards Sarai for giving her body away? Or was it the prestige of carrying Abram's promised child that when she missed that first period, the despising, the disrespect, and the disgust towards Sarai really kicked in? "Hagar, please take out the slop." "Excuse me, Sarai." She's not supposed to use her first name. "I'm carrying the promised one, and slop makes me throw up. Your stomach is fine. Just take it out."

See, Hagar, the servant, now has a place of honor, and she just can't stay meek through it.

Emotional wounds, old emotional wounds for both of them rise to the top and just explode.

So Sarai takes her frustration out first on Abram, who says, "Hey, she's your problem, not mine." Then Sarai lashes out at Hagar until Hagar flees into the wilderness to nurse her wounds. When the angel of the Lord shows up, Hagar's perspective suddenly really clears. "I have seen the God who sees me," she says.

And God talks with her. He asks her to return and submit under the hand of her mistress. He also asks her to fill her mind with who He is and what He has promised. A son named Ishmael, which means God hears.

Hagar was to put on meekness, submit, and do hard things for a God who sees and hears, a God who stands waiting to bless an Egyptian handmaiden. What an amazing God. We think it's really bizarre how Sarai sent her husband into Hagar's room, and they got furious with him and abusive with Hagar.

But I find that I'm not much different sometimes. John Coblins in one of his books says, "A woman in difficulty easily gets desperate." And this makes me laugh because it's such an understatement. It is just the besetting sin of us as women to entertain fears, feel entitled, grab control, experience difficulty, get very desperate, and then go a little crazy until our loved ones want to flee to the desert wilderness.

It runs in our genes. Like our mother Eve, we doubt that we can really pull this off without God's help. No, we doubt that God can really pull this off without my help. So we park widely in God's parking space.

Taking control, though, brings separation from God, and that results in fear. So we connive, we manipulate, pray frantically, fret through sleepless nights, give the cool air to those we don't trust, avoid or build walls against offenders, and we allow those offenses to just circle madly, endlessly in our heads.

The crazy thing is that we're not aware of our reactionary actions so many times. And then we wonder, why won't God move? And why do our loved ones run from us? When I take control of a situation or try to work on a loved one, God allows it. It's just that there isn't room for both of us.

While we nag and pray and struggle, God just waits until we back up and let Him take over. "You want to work on it, honey? Sure. I'll wait until you're done." There are such thrilling stories of wives who have just pounded heaven's door, prayed fervently, hoping to change their difficult husbands, but all to no avail. It was when they moved their focus from the husband to themselves. They said, "I'm finished, God. I'm done working on Him.

Just show me how I should change." They returned to their mistress, so to speak, and submitted under her hand. And it was then that God moved in and did a really beautiful work in both the husband and the wife. I really, really encourage you to read Control Girl by Shannon Popkins.

And also, another book that was truly life-changing for me is Daughters of Sarah by Genevieve White. When I finished reading that, I was just aware of the beauty of the headship order and how freeing it is to let go of control and trust God to be big enough to orchestrate that symphony called my life.

When God met Hagar in the wilderness, her perspective suddenly became clear. "I have seen the God who sees me," she said. I've heard a speaker explain intimacy as into me see, which at the time struck me as slightly lame, but behold, it fits the story. It's the encounter with the one who sees that made Hagar willing to go back and submit under an unreasonable mistress hand.

So do I find myself to be a Sarai, or am I Hagar? Either way, the answer to the problem is the same. We need to see the one that sees us.

Step one, I think, for returning to the mistress is to pursue intimacy with the meek and lowly Jesus, to learn of Him. I was thinking about the newlywed couple and the vulnerability and transparency that's there, a real nakedness of soul and body. It's a knowing, to know and be known. There's that fervent, "I know everything about you, and I still love you," kind of love.

There's no fear, no room or need for pride. A new bride can love others and take on a world of troubles because she's secure in the fact that someone loves her regardless, no matter what. This kind of intimacy is what Jesus wants with you and with me. He offers, yes, He waits to make us secure in that kind of intimacy with Him.

But here's what we often say, "Thank you immensely, but I think I'll place my security in this fickle human."

I love Matthew 11, verses 28 through 30, where he says, and this verse has taken on new meaning to me as I'm studying this. He says, "Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden with the harsh mistress, and I will give you rest.

Take my yoke upon you." Hey, returning to a mistress is a yoke. "And learn of me. Stay in my word and keep my word in you, for I am meek and lowly." He's saying, "I want you to learn of me and be like me, meek and lowly in heart," which, by the way, is opposite, polar opposite of being controlling and feeling entitled. "And here's my promise to you, and ye shall find rest for your souls, for my yoke is easy and my burden is light."

You and I both know that a troubled relationship gives us more unrest and bitterness of soul than we can even describe. But Jesus is offering rest for our emotions, our minds, our thoughts when we learn of Him and become meek and lowly in heart as He is.

It's also true, isn't it, that we become like the person we are intimate with?

Meekness, lowliness, it sounds so mousy, doesn't it? It's not mousy, though. Meekness is being strong enough to respond gently when provoked. My husband, Hosea, says that it's only the strong that can be meek. If I'm passive and don't care, there's really no need for meekness. And lowly is just another word for feeling indebted and grateful instead of entitled and arrogant.

Rita's mother-in-law assumes, imagines, and says hurtful things that really sting. Rita doesn't deny the pain; it hurts, but she doesn't let it define her or destroy her. Her pity is not for herself, but for her mother-in-law. Because Rita is intimate with Jesus, she's learned of Him. She understands how much He loves her. She's so secure.

She feels her worth because of Him, at the same time understanding her indebtedness and complete unworthiness. She also knows how to reach for grace when she embarrasses herself or when she falls. Therefore, she's able to extend grace to others.

I heard recently that love your neighbor as yourself could possibly be translated: you're going to love your neighbor the way you love yourself. Ever notice how when your self-esteem dips and you're full of condemnation, you're condemning yourself, you feel very critical and bitter toward others?

Step two in returning to our mistress is take inventory. If you're like me, we can spend so much bitter energy focusing on the offense done to us that we forget to ask, "Why is this happening? For what purpose?

Did I bring it on? Is this to shape my character? What is my responsibility? What pain is making my sister react to me? Do I need to draw near?" And drawing near for me is very counterintuitive. If I even suspect that someone is upset with me, I want to run. I want to avoid them at all costs.

Drawing near, though, is important if someone seems put off with us.

Then there is the woman whose monopoly on God gives her the answers for every situation. It's really frustrating. Nobody seems to appreciate it. Even the people that she loves fall out with her one by one. It doesn't even occur to her that she might be the problem. She remembers the wrongs done to her and has bitterness of soul instead of rest. She'll tell you with great sadness, "I think I must have been born for rejection."

But she comforts herself that in this world, the godly will suffer for doing right. Some women take morbid pleasure in being mistreated. They really don't want solutions because being mistreated and hurt seems to be their identity. Extending grace and forgiveness to an offender would leave them out in the cold with nothing to do and no one to be.

Bitterness does sometimes feel easier than forgiveness, but the end result is definitely ruin.

Step number three for returning to your mistress is operate. Make sure you're operating from your spirit and not your soul. And by soul, I mean emotions.

I was sitting with a friend one day who triangles. And so I prepared to listen to a stream of complaints and accusations about someone I loved. I wasn't looking forward to it. Previous experiences with this had made my stomach churn and my thoughts just spin crazily out of control.

This time, I purposed to listen, not with my soul, but with my spirit. I prayed that God would help me. And it was amazing. My thoughts stayed unbelievably calm. See, when we operate with our spirit instead of our emotions, where in our spirit we commune with God, it allows us in these situations to, yes, acknowledge our feelings, but set them aside to deal with later. Like the receptionist at the doctor's office, we just ask our emotions to have a seat and wait quietly for the moment until they can be seen by the great physician.

Step number four for returning to the mistress.

Understanding that we have limited perspective is so important. Being meek and lowly means that I remember that I don't know everything, and this keeps me from making wrong assumptions that cause needless hurt. I think it was C.S. Lewis that said, "Motives? I have never seen one, nor would I recognize one if I saw it."

How can we really know someone's motives?

Being meek and lowly also protects us from looking at people through smog. I often think about how when we are hurt, it's like a layer of smog covers the glasses through which we look at our offender. The next time something happens, another layer of smog. And the layers keep adding up until finally the offender can do nothing without it being tinted by the smog film.

Step five, learning meek and lowly, returning to our mistress, allows me to bless my offender. Life and death really are in the power of the tongue more than we realize. And if my attitude is right and I'm acting out of love, a steady and soft diet of affirming words and blessing can crack some of the toughest cases.

Words of blessing, either face to face or in prayer for our offender, can neutralize the sting of curses.

And by curses, I just mean mean comments or small things that hurt us.

Step number six in returning to our mistress, when we learn of Jesus or meek and lowly, it helps us to understand the offender. Complaining and criticism from your difficult human may indicate unfulfilled desire, fear of rejection, fear of failure, or the obnoxious behavior can be a cry for help.

I was struck; I forget where I heard this recently, maybe from Jamila. The wife who was longing for more time with her husband found herself complaining about the function they had to attend. And then she realized it wasn't actually the function they were attending; it was for her unfulfilled desire for more time with her husband. She stopped herself mid-complaint and said instead, "I'd love to go on a date with you."

This little story convicted me. I'm pretty sure I've been doing this a lot, and I'm pretty sure my loved ones don't like it.

Also heard Jamila say recently that criticism can be likened to adult crying.

Step number seven, embrace the fact that you have differing values. Value her values. Just release her to think and behave differently than you do.

You want others to do that for you also. I know I do. Step number eight in returning to our mistress might mean a courageous conversation.

There's a tool called Courageous Conversation, and we learned from it about it by Chris and Anne Hogan of Noble Call Ministries. It's where each person takes a turn, answering, asking first, and answering a set of 10 questions. In the process, there's no explaining, defending, or blaming allowed while questions are being answered. Only listening and clarifying that you understand what is being said.

At the end of the 10 questions and answers from each person, there's a much better and sometimes very surprising understanding.

I think that when you do need to talk to someone that you're in conflict with, saying, "Help me understand," is a non-threatening way to open up a conversation.

Number nine in returning to our mistress, learning of Jesus, we will be grateful and indebted instead of demanding and entitled.

My friend, Elsie, is paralyzed, has been for years, and recently she lost the husband who combed her hair, helped her down the stairs, helped her in and out of the car, so many things. She was so excited about their retirement years, but almost as soon as he retired, he became very sick with cancer.

And now, recently, he left and she's alone. I have never seen anyone so committed to thanking God through the hard things as Elsie. It's not that she feels thankful; she will tell you you don't have to feel it, but she says you have to say it.

She just understands that she deserves nothing. She's indebted, not entitled.

She understands that there's a purpose for what God allows, so she thanks him.

And in relationships, as I was discussing this subject with my husband, he said, "You know, I think sometimes we just need to stop the struggle on our part against a difficult relationship. I think we need to be okay with what is, like the beautiful German word, Gelassenheit, that can be summed up in just the serenity prayer. Help me change what I can and be surrendered and okay with what I cannot.

Because life is hard. There's nothing surprising about it, especially when we feel entitled. But when we remember that we are undeserving and indebted, we can feel grateful and joy-filled.

So we can choose bitter unrest for our souls, and we unknowingly become like the difficult person we're bitter toward and that we focus on. But when we choose to focus on the meek and lowly Jesus, there's rest for our souls. And likewise, we become like the Jesus we focus on. And that's a good thing.

Jesus, the one who sees us. Intimacy with him brings incredible security and trust and rest for our souls.

Security so that nothing can shake us. Not height, not depth, not difficult mistress. What a blessing.

I hope there's time for a lot of interaction because I want to hear your perspectives. I'm at the end of my notes.

Thanks so much for that, Bernice. And I was just thinking the same thing too, that there's so much that we could all talk about together and learn from each other. Wow, so many things that we could ask. But I'd really love to hear what any of you have to ask. So let's just open up our question and answer period. Maybe I ask you first, Lynelle, do you have any questions in the chat box?

No, not yet. Okay. Okay, Christina. So maybe who has a question they'd like to ask?

Bernice, one thing that you mentioned is not letting yourself go into that negative thought pattern. And what are some tips that you've found helpful for yourself in stopping that, in getting out of it and moving on to something else?

I find that just realizing that I'm not a victim of my thoughts is so helpful. It was extremely helpful for me to focus on the fact that we are body, soul, and spirit. And so many times we let the order of the parts look like soul on top and then either body or spirit. But spirit needs to be in charge. And that's how we can become Christlike. That's how we can be successful in life is when we operate from our spirit. But I didn't know for a long time that I don't have to be controlled by my emotions. I thought because I felt it, it must be legit. I thought because I believed it, it must be true.

And I'm realizing that that is not at all the case. And it sounds funny, but I talk to myself out loud. I think the power of verbalizing something, you hear yourself saying something, it's pretty powerful. I mean, it feels silly, but it's good.

I have said, "Stop it. There is no room here for that thought. And you're not allowed in here because that's not true." Because I really believe that so many of our relationship problems are because of imagined things, assumptions. We feel like we know what's going on, what the other person is thinking.

There's a funny story that I took out of my notes, but I guess I'll tell it. When I was young, I was with a group of friends, and we had been in the same area, but I had spent more time than they were happy with, with a young man that everyone admired. So when I got back in the car to go back home with the rest of the girls, you could cut the air. It was thick with disapproval, and I could feel it. They were upset with me. So I groped for something to say to break the awkward silence. There was a beautiful sunset outside. So I said, "Ah, this guy is gorgeous." But guess what they heard me saying? "This guy is gorgeous."

Because they were listening to me through smog. They were looking at me through smog and hearing me through smog.

Disclaimer is that I probably deserve some of the smog, but that was just an example of how we think we know, but we don't.

I truly hope that what I've said doesn't sound like I have all the answers because I've suffered a great deal in trying to have the right attitude through relationship conflicts. And I understand that sometimes it's very, very difficult even to think straight when you feel like you've been mistreated.

We had a question come through the chat. It says, "What advice would you give in relating to a narcissist mother? She would say things like she's never wrong and she's being persecuted for her faith if anyone tries to correct her."

Well,

I don't know what to say because in dealing with women like you've described, it's tempting sometimes, especially if they're close to you, to almost not be honest.

On the other hand, if your mother won't hear you, I'm not sure that there's anything that you can do except to show love and submit as much as possible under the unreasonable hand. I'd love to hear from anyone else.

I would like to say, "Pray. Never underestimate the power of prayer and pray for your mother."

And pray for your own clarity of thought because I find that when there is a woman like that in my life, like we talked about, the thoughts can circle madly and finally you're not thinking straight. And pray for the clarity that comes from stepping aside. We've moved around quite a bit. We've lived in several different places. And I found that relationships that I thought were super difficult or frustrations that I had with ladies that I was really frustrated with, when there was distance and time, I wondered why was I so tied up in knots over that. It really wasn't as bad as I thought. Distance and time helped me to have a better perspective.

I like to think that learning of Jesus, becoming meek and lowly, would enable us to have that kind of perspective right while we're up next to it.

I can't say I've been very good at it.

Bernice, I had another question come through the chat. It says, "You said you're going to love your neighbor the way you love yourself. What if a person condemns herself in her thoughts? What advice would you give to help fix that problem?"

Okay, I've struggled with this thing. And I had to come to the place where I saw that it was wrong for me to condemn myself, to refuse the grace. And I'm thinking of the time when after we got married, I just wanted to hear Hosea say, "Oh, you're beautiful. You're not too fat." I wanted to hear my husband say, "Assure me that I was okay."

And so I would say, "Oh, I'm so fat." Or I would say, "I can't believe I did that. It's so disgusting. I'm just" I would degrade myself. And finally one day he said, "Bernice, when you talk down about yourself, it offends me because I love you. You are a part of me. And when you talk degradingly about yourself, you're hurting me." And I never dreamed that that's what I was doing.

I think we do the same thing to God. He's there. He loves us. I'm his child.

And when all I can do is degrade myself and call myself an idiot, it hurts him.

Does that make sense?

And it also makes it impossible to love other people. It's really a subtle bitterness towards the one who created you and who allows you to be who you are.

I was thinking about that as you were speaking, Bernice. I think one thing that we have to understand is the difference between guilt and shame. Guilt is a healthy emotion from God. We sin, we feel guilty, we come back to God in repentance. Shame is not a healthy emotion. And actually, when we talk about the narcissist mother and we talk about ourselves when we just feel an unhealthy shame, it's actually all the same root.

And it's really that the root is pride, isn't it? And saying that I must know more than God. And just when I began to understand that concept, still trying to understand that concept, that changed a lot of my thought processes.

I have a comment here. It says, "Thank you so much for bringing such clarity to relationships and this whole topic in general. You've been very helpful, especially found your smoggy glasses and all of you a very good way to understand offenses. Thank you for taking time to prepare and share this with us."

Thank you so much. There's a third question coming in too. It says, "Do you have any practical advice for hearing people out without letting emotions get in the way? I think this is great advice, but find it hard to do."

Yeah, this is very challenging, especially if the person is close to you.

I find it entirely different when I listen to staff girls that I love, but I don't have history with them. I've only known them in the past year. I enjoy hearing them out and offering help. But when it's someone you know and love for a very long time and you somehow feel responsible, it's difficult to listen with your spirit and not get your emotions all entangled.

I think it's very important to remember that we are not responsible ultimately. And it's like I was telling a few of you earlier, sometimes listening, allowing someone to talk, brings so much clarity to them without you even saying anything. But carrying someone's burden is not always our responsibility.

There was a time when I was taking offense for my dad, and he said, "Bernice, God has given me this burden to carry, and he's also given with it the grace to carry it. But you're trying to carry it for me, and you don't have the grace. You're not going to be able to. So let me carry it."

I'm not sure if that applies to the situation that is being asked about, but I do struggle with feeling too much responsibility. I forget that I'm not my loved one's Holy Spirit. I forget that God will ultimately take care of this. And I forget that all of us have to go through hard times. We have to go through tests that teach us. And I'm pretty sure I keep getting in God's way when I try to fix and fix and fix because I'm emotional about something.

I feel it so much.

Bernice, I love the story that you've told me about Glosson Height and your brother Matthew. Am I putting you on the spot to ask you to share that story with all these ladies today? I'll be glad to. It's a story that has changed my life.

I didn't think I had time to put it in my notes, but I'm delighted to tell it if you would like that. So my brother Matthew, five years older than I, was a very, can I say, fervent in spirit young man. And he was gifted. My mom used to think he would be a preacher one day.

But he did not understand quite a few things, as we all don't when we're young, but especially that just because he believed something didn't mean it was true. He was fervent, and he went to work for my father. And something happened. I still don't really know what it was, but he was deeply offended by the Amish men that he worked with and by my dad and by my brother. And so he was married and had four little ones at the time. He left the community, went to Columbus, Ohio, and enrolled in college to be an architect.

He still came to family gatherings, but he was bitter. And he wasn't really with us. He was there, but he was not. He believed so many things that were not true. His bitterness ate him up. And he said one time, "I have for the past, at that time, it was 17 years, every morning I wake up and I ask why."

And anyway, at some point, he was diagnosed with cancer.

And at that time, we could tell he was turning back toward us. His heart was coming back toward us. And I went to see him, and we talked. And I said, "Is there anything when you think about me that you need to forgive? Have I done anything that is difficult for you?" He said, "No." And I could tell he was growing, but he was still not completely surrendered. One day when we were all together for my mom's 80th birthday, and no one said it, but we knew we were together because we only had so much time left with our brother Matthew.

We were in Florida, and he was walking along the beach on a Sunday morning. And he came back in, and he was visibly agitated and excited and just emotional. He said, "I've got to talk to everyone." And I said, "That's great. We're going to sit together and give mom her birthday accolades, and then you can talk to us."

And so he told us how he'd been out there just again asking God, "Why? Why? Why?" And at that point, he only had the doctors gave him a few months to live. And so he said, "I did not hear an audible voice, but I may as well have." It was like God said, "Matthew, you need to stop trying to figure everything out with your head and just trust me with your heart."

And it was like a huge, heavy load rolled off of him at that moment. And of course, we were all crying, and it was a precious time. But the amazing, amazing thing is that that man was changed so incredibly. From that moment on, he was so surrendered and so yielded.

And when I went to say goodbye to him, I hugged him, and we were leaving, but I couldn't quite go until I'd ask him, "How does it feel to know that you're going to die? I know that I could go outside and have an accident and die before you do, but how does it feel to know? Are you scared? Are you excited? What's it like?" And he said he really struggled to form the words, but he said, "It's okay.

It's good. It's just what is is good." And my dad—and this is the amazing thing—I didn't understand the rift between them. I still don't. But when he surrendered, there was no rift between Dad and Matthew. I had just finished watching them plan his funeral. He wanted a German song. He wanted his old church to have part in the funeral. He wanted his old friend, who was now a bishop, to preach his message. He wanted the song that the Amish sang to be sung at his funeral. The very people he was so bitter at. He wanted to be buried in the little Amish cemetery that my dad's dad and grandpa are buried in. It was truly unbelievable.

And so Dad and Matthew had their head—I had watched them with their heads together selecting the kind of wood for his casket, planning the funeral, and just thinking, "How does this even work?" So when he was struggling to find words to tell me how it is to know that you're dying, my dad offered this word, "Glosson Height." And Matthew smiled, and he said, "Yeah.

Glosson Height."

And then he said, "Bernice, it seems amazing that I can embrace Glosson Height now that I'm dying.

But if you can embrace it while you're fully alive, that is more miraculous."

And it has been life-changing for me with relationships, with letting go of control.

It's hard. But it is miraculous. But it's what it means to learn of Jesus and to become meek and lowly and deaded and not entitled.

So did I miss any parts of the story that you loved? No. Feel like I might have? No. He touched so many lives in the last few weeks of his life. Even though it felt like his life was wasted, it really wasn't.

Thank you for sharing that, Bernice. And I'm sitting here and I'm thinking about what you said, how if we all can learn to live Glosson Height, that is a miracle. And it only takes the grace of God. Only with the grace of God.

And I think it's one of the upside-down characteristics of the kingdom because it seems so backwards to us. But when we can truly let go of ourselves and embrace Glosson Height, there's so much beauty.

There's another question that came in, Bernice, and it says, "How do you not get desperate when in difficulty?"

I wish you would tell me.

Something that has been super helpful recently to me is just repeating to myself, "Look, you don't know everything. Your perspective is so limited."

There has to be—there has to be hard times.

I don't know. In spite of all that, it's still a challenge to not become desperate. Also recognizing that, as Hosea often says, especially after working in Kenya for six and a half years, he's convinced that fear is one of Satan's favorite tools. I mean, if he can get you and me to be afraid, that's when we become desperate.

Perfect love casts out fear. There's no fear in love.

It is so hard to keep your head on straight when you're afraid. And we don't always recognize it as fear.

Sometimes we just think the need is urgent. I've got to do something, and it's up to me. But there is usually some kind of fear attached to our desperation.

Recognizing where it comes from must be helpful.

And I think you touched on it. I know we've talked about it. Just grasping that assurance of whose daughters we are. When you start to feel desperate and you're just—but if you can—yeah.

I come back to that a time and a time again.

And speaking of whose daughters we are, do you have that picture that you could post for the ladies? It's a picture of my husband and our daughter, Abigail. Abigail and her little family just came back from Kenya. And this is Hosea seeing her for the first time in a year, I think, or for a very long time. I can't remember how long it was. But I stared at that picture for a long time. And it's made more than one of us cry just thinking about the way our Father loves us. He cares. He cares about us when we're in a difficult situation, a difficult relationship. He delights in us. He sings over us with rejoicing.

We forget how precious we are and how much we mean to our Abba Father.

So thank you, Jamila, for putting that up there.

And thank you. Thank you for giving us that picture. Bernice had shared that picture with me earlier today, and I had the same reaction when I thought of just Abba Father and how much she loves us. And even when times are hard.

Are there any other questions that came in? Yes. There was one more. It came in just before you gave your story of your brother in Glosson Height. And I think that story answers this question, but I will ask it here. What do you do in a situation where you've been let down multiple times, even though she is a sister in Christ, and you try so hard, and still there's a bit of a rift there? Or can you relate?

I think that a lot of times we try so hard, and there comes a time when we—after we've examined our own selves and we cannot find anything, there comes a time to let it go.

My friend Susan Slabaugh wrote an article for The Calvary Messenger. It's called Let It Go, Sister. I wish so much all of us could have the chance to read that article. It is just powerful.

But part of our problem is we insist on having the good relationship. We feel like it belongs to us. We feel like we're Christians. We need it. We need to make it work. We need to fix it. We need to do something.

But like Hosea said, there comes a time to let it go and say, "I'm done. I'm turning it over to you." We back out of God's parking spot. We give Him the situation. And then the chances are very high that things will change.

Sometimes it doesn't feel like they do, and we just need to be okay with that.

Can you remind us the meaning of Glosson Height? The meaning of Glosson Height? Yeah. I don't have it in front of me, but as I understand, it can mean several things. It can be applied to community, getting along. My favorite meaning and the way I use it the most is just being okay with what is.

Serenity, surrender. And we've already talked about how it takes about two dozen words in the English to describe what Glosson Height means in German. And it wraps up so many things in one word. But someone has said, "If you want to know what Glosson Height is, it is the serenity prayer."