Grist Mill

Many years ago I took a class, Life Line. I got into that class not fully knowing what I was getting into. I believe it was God’s will and it was a wonder and more, a discipline. We presented our stories of a lifetime to our class with only ten minuets to pull it off. I joked that I felt like anyone over sixty should get an extra ten minutes. 

I think most of our stories need editing. After the first writing I read it and said, “Lord, this is all full of pain and shame and drama. Who would want to read this?” The Lord responded by saying, “Go back and look for the wonder”. “Thank you, Lord”. I edited my life story, from birth to present, looking for the wonder and what a difference that made. I didn’t deny the truth, but I found God’s footprints over and over in the midst of the struggle. 

I have avoided giving a testimony of my conversion experience. I have always said I would rather talk about what God is doing in my life today. I am not one to want to look back, but prefer forward motion. God set me up for receiving my testimony. The following is the process God took me through to hand me the connections of my testimony, a condensed version.

It is a Sunday morning and I get a call from my oldest son. He and his wife are very interested in family history. They have called for a few names, a few details. Their research has caused me to dig around in my past. 

Next step I am off to church. Today my pastor is in the book of Mark where Peter denies Jesus three times. Peter begins this story by telling the Lord that even if everyone else denies Christ, he never will. He goes from a place of such bravado to failure, and then is called deeper into discipleship. Towards the end our pastor points out that we want to hide our failures, but our failures plunged into the grace of Jesus, then lifted up as a witness, is powerful. Facing our failures and finding repentance speaks in a very meaningful way. He encouraged us to tell our testimonies. This got my “wheels” turning. I confess so many of my memories are thoughts that I take captive to Christ. Today, I was beginning to be receptive to what the Lord was unraveling.

Sunday afternoon, and I decide to head for near by Glen Ellen, California, for a short hike. This beautiful nature trail is one my family and I had spent many afternoons on. I’m revisiting a mixed bag of memories. 

After my hike I decide to go see how Glen Ellen’s Grist Mill is holding up. It is only a couple of minutes up the road and I hadn’t seen it in years. I was pleased to find it well-preserved and accompanied by this pristine waterfall. The Grist Mills history dates back to 1856 from a saw mill owned by General Vallejo, and is now a restaurant. 

Again, I am hit with past memories. When my husband, Walt, and I first arrived to the valley in December of 1975, this restaurant, bar, concert venue was run by Juanita, an infamous, flamboyant character who still holds a strong place in Sonoma’s history. Oh, the stories about Juanita. We were told that she yelled at and insulted her patrons at her restaurant to the point of demanding they not leave food on their plates. We took this for an act and decided to check out Juanita’s for ourselves. A couple of weeks later we decide to go to the bar for New Year’s Eve. 

We arrived on our Harley and joined the crowd for a night of revelry. Walt managed to avoid a fight. He also found himself in a conversation with Juanita, warm and welcoming at that point. After a couple of hours of drinking, we slipped outside to a patio and joined a handful of people at a large fire pit placed high enough uphill to have a view of people coming and going. The mood was festive. All of a sudden a group of men and Juanita burst through the door and onto the patio. They are screaming at each other. Remember, we think this is only an act. My unrestrained, twenty-five year old self stood, lifting up a fist and gave a shrill battle cry, “Give them hell, Juanita!” They all gave me a sideways glance and what had been a shouting match immediately turned into a fist fight. This is when I realized this aggression was not an act. We left shortly thereafter. I can’t even imagine the many times I climbed on that Harley and rode home under the influence of drugs or alcohol. It does seem like another lifetime. In fact, it was fifty years ago. 

This story represents several years of what could only be defined as rowdy, unrestrained behavior. Yes, I went to school during the day and worked evenings, but my main focus was what took place after work with other rowdy and unrestrained youth.

A few days after New Year’s Eve, I asked Christ into my heart. Until that Sunday afternoon at the Grist Mill, I had not made the connection between these two events.

Walt had taken a religion course while we were still in Kansas. As part of the course he was required to read Hal Lindsey’s “Late Great Planet Earth.” He was spouting end times theology all over the place. I had been a confirmed agnostic and though I listened, I didn’t really buy into it. However, a few nights after the New Year’s event, I found myself at home, alone and depressed. I had left everything to relocate my family, friends, and a job. To be honest, I missed my grandmas, both women of faith. I wished I could see them about then. I picked up that copy of The Late Great Planet Earth and began to read through tears. I still had no interest in end times theology but this line really got my attention, “Don’t make a list of ten things you have to give up before coming to Christ.” That line offered me a lot of grace. I kept going and by the very end, Lindsey talked about the unconditional love of God. I honestly hadn’t experienced much of that. My heart was pierced. I knew I wanted this kind of love. I made the decision right then to repent and ask Christ to forgive me for going my own way, and to live in me. Though it has not been a perfect journey, I am so glad I made that choice. To this day, I declare, “No one really get’s me but God.” He is not only my Creator and my Redeemer, but He is also my best friend. 

The next morning I told Walt that I had received Christ and I now wanted us to give up our bad habits and start looking for a church. Walt says, “No way, and be like all of those hypocrites?” Thus began a rather rocky path of the struggle between the world, the flesh, and faith. God chipped away at all of that “baggage.” We weren’t easy but He was patient. He still is patient. This is my testimony and, interestingly enough, after just a few days this beautiful, memorable Sunday, I was asked to give my testimony of how I came to Christ. In my entire Christian walk, no one has asked me that and I haven’t offered it either. I was ready. I am so grateful for the connections and “cross-overs” that the Lord brings into my life.

Genesis 15:6 Abram believed in the Lord, and He accounted it to him for righteousness.

After God made this declaration, we see Abraham become the Father of Faith. First we see him turn Sarah over to the acting Pharaoh, twice. She was beautiful and he was fearful that the Pharaoh would kill him to have her. God intervened. After this, the couple was promised a child in their old age. Sarah laughed. God delayed and, not wanting to wait for Him, they decided that Abraham should sleep with Hagar, the handmaiden, to bring about the promised heir. So much fear, doubt, and struggle. Abraham was challenged before they called him the Father of Faith. It took quite a few interventions from the Lord to strengthen his faith. I can totally relate. I know I am still in process. 

A few years after my conversion, we had our first child, and Walt and I were both baptized. Faith to faith, strength to strength, glory to glory, from brighter to brighter paths. This is my testimony. I would that all knew the love of God, our Good Father. 

This scripture was quoted in the history I read about the grist mill. 

Psalm 33:18–19 The Passion Translation. “The eyes of the Lord are upon even the weakest worshipers who love Him — those who wait in hope and expectation for the strong, steady love of God. God will deliver them from death, even the certain death of famine with no one to help.