AI vs Original Design: Why Your Motivational Assessment Still Matters in 2025

We all have them. The chapters in our life books where desperation and pain was splattered across the pages and the words blurred by the hot tears that fell as they were written.

None of us are exempt from pain, loss, embarrassment, fear and the horrid feeling of being entirely alone. We write about those days of misery. We sing about our pain. We often try and one up each other in who has been through more hell.
 
Most humans walk around not knowing that all those wounds show up in the spiritual realm—the gouges of resentment, bitterness, unforgiveness, abuse, un-belief, torture, despair and harassment—and I could keep going, but I guess you get the point.

If we have healed spiritually or emotionally, I believe all those ugly moments are scars that are closed up.

Everything is forming us and molding us. We don’t stay the same. We get worse, or we get healed. It's a fallacy to believe we just hover emotionally in the same spot for days, months, years.
 
There is a song by Josh Groban called Remember When it Rained. I don’t know exactly what inspired the writer, but to me it speaks about hitting rock bottom and the only place to go was to God. I sometimes listen to this when I need to remember that one day, this pain or fear I’m in currently, will be in the past. I will have conquered it. It will not have conquered me.

If we are wise enough, we can grasp the understanding that there is a way past the pain and that if we allow Him to, God can transform anything we have had to endure into a story of His goodness.  

Because what we have come through and are going through, the labor of it all, can be and is being birthed into something beautiful.
 
God wastes nothing. 

I was in Walmart recently. I noticed a young mom with her small baby shopping in the aisles and popping open a cookie container to give to her hungry kiddo. I am not the type to eat then buy, so I made a mental note of this young mom because she stuck out to me. 

I pushed my cart to the register, wondering if I myself would have enough money in my budget to cover my own bill. I walked past the noted young mom who was at an opposite register and noticed that she was unable to pay for her groceries. “I guess he forgot to put money in the bank for me…” I hear her tell the checker. She emptied her wallet out on the counter with loose dollars and change and paid for the item her baby had already been eating. Then took the walk of shame over to the bench with her unpaid cart of groceries and sat down. I watched her try and phone what I presumed was her husband. She then got up and pushed her cart further into the customer service area and informed them she wasn’t able to buy her groceries.

I was feeling empathy the whole time for this young lady. I knew what this felt like to not have money to pay for the groceries while at the register.

 Then I heard the Holy Spirit say to me, “YOU pay for her groceries…” I am learning to be immediately obedient to His voice even if what He is asking feels uncomfortable.  

My heart fluttered, and I watched her start walking out, again, He said, “do not let her walk away!” I left the register I was at and stopped her.
 
“Excuse me miss?” How much was your bill for your cart of groceries?”
She looked at me kind of shocked, “Um.. it was 59 dollars…”
“Come with me” I walked back to my purse and dug in my wallet and pulled out 60 dollars exactly. I handed it to her. “Please go buy your groceries.” 
She hesitated and began with the “ you don’t need to do this…” speech. 
“Let me stop you right here. I know what this feels like and I want to pay for your groceries, please take this money and go do it.” 
She took it and thanked me and went and bought her cart of food. 
The lady at the register had watched everything and quietly said to me, “that was a really kind thing for you to do.” 
“Well, I know what this feels like.” I murmured.

And boy the relief I had in being obedient in that moment to what God was prompting me to do was huge. I did feel personally a lot of empathy, but it was his direction that paired with my empathy and put action to the call. I could have missed the opportunity to bless this young woman and not only that but to have passed a little test with God. Was I willing to remember in a healthy way? Was I willing to hear the prompt to do it? And finally, was I willing to take action with the prompt? Yes.
 
I will say, the Lord blessed me in the next week with an extra 240 dollars for groceries that was unexpected. He doesn’t cease to return finances when we give graciously and freely. 

I was fully aware of what someone else was going through because I have not forgotten that pain of standing at the counter with no money when I thought I had it.

I don’t let the fear run me, nor the experiences I have had with money cause me to be afraid and dictate my life. But I do allow my experience to let me be a support to others in the same predicament.

It is important for us to represent hope to those around us who are walking through the same fire we walked through. Our life experience should be a gift to others in the ways that we find opportunities to lift people up when they are discouraged or help support them in their needs and desperation that we ourselves know something about.  

What amazing things God does with our horrible experiences—if we allow Him to.
We are partners with Him on His growing the flowers over the graves of our experienced pain.

And I’m here for it.
I don’t like to waste things. 
And I love flowers!

Let's get emotionally and spiritually healed—lets make that normal. So that we can look and remember when it rained without being swallowed by the paralyzation of it and becoming of no use.

And let's tell each other the stories we are the actors in when it comes to being the person we needed long ago to someone else.
 
Let's be aware and fill the gaps where support is needed. Let's change the world together while we live in transformation from our past pain to today's hope.

I need to say something that might step on some toes.

Most Christians I know are exhausted. Not because they're doing the wrong things. Because they're doing the right things from the wrong fuel source.

They're running on pressure. And they've been told, directly or indirectly, that pressure is proof of faithfulness.

Busy schedule? Must be doing something right.
Stressed about ministry? That's just the cost of serving.
Burning out at work? Well, Colossians 3:23 says work heartily, so push through.

We've built an entire theology of exhaustion and dressed it up as obedience.

And I think it's one of the most destructive lies in the modern church.

The Lie

Here's the lie in plain language: Pressure equals importance. Stress equals commitment. If you're not overwhelmed, you must not be doing enough.

It sounds ridiculous when you say it out loud. But look at how most believers actually live.

They say yes to everything because saying no feels selfish. They grind through 60-hour weeks because rest feels lazy. They sacrifice their health, their marriage, their presence with their kids, and they call it "the cost of the calling."

But here's what I want you to sit with.

Jesus didn't operate that way.

Not once.

Look at Jesus

Jesus had the most important assignment in the history of the universe. Literally. The redemption of all humanity rested on His shoulders.

And He napped in boats.

He walked away from crowds that still needed healing. (Mark 1:35-38) He took time alone with the Father when the demands were at their highest. He told Martha, who was hustling and stressed and doing "all the right things," that Mary had chosen the better part by simply sitting at His feet. (Luke 10:41-42)

Jesus was never in a hurry. Never frantic. Never running from one obligation to the next with His hair on fire.

He operated from peace.

Not passivity. Peace.

There's a massive difference.

Isaiah 26:3 says, "You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you."

Perfect peace. Not "manageable stress." Not "peace once the project is done." Perfect peace. Present tense. Available now.

But you can't access it if you believe the lie that pressure is the price of purpose.

What Pressure Actually Costs

I learned this the hard way.

A few years ago I ended up in an emergency surgery in Lisbon, Portugal. My body forced a stop that my willpower never would have allowed.

I had been running at 110% for years. Building businesses. Leading teams. Serving in ministry. Raising kids. Pouring into people.

All good things. Noble things.

But I was fueled by pressure. And I called it discipline.

When I woke up in that hospital, I couldn't access 110%. I couldn't access 80%. Some days I barely had 40%. And in that forced reduction, I discovered something terrifying:

The life I had built required me at full capacity to function.

That's not stewardship. That's a trap.

God never asked me to build something that would collapse if I got sick for a month. He never asked you to do that either.

**Peace Is Not Passive**

Let me be clear about what I'm NOT saying.

I'm not saying stop working hard. I'm not saying coast. I'm not saying sit on the couch and "trust God" while your responsibilities pile up.

Peace is not the absence of effort. It's the presence of alignment.

When you're operating from your God-given design, from the wiring He built into you before the foundations of the earth, hard work doesn't feel like grinding. It feels like building. There's a difference. And your body knows it even when your mind hasn't caught up yet.

Philippians 4:6-7 says, "Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."

That peace isn't earned by working harder. It's accessed by aligning deeper.

What's Coming

I've spent the last couple of years writing a book about this. It's called Peace Not Pressure.

It's about what happens when you stop operating from anxiety and start operating from design. It's about the neuroscience of how your brain gets stuck in pressure patterns and how to rewire them. It's about practical frameworks for leading, building, and living from a place of peace without sacrificing effectiveness.

It's the most important thing I've written.

And it's coming soon.

If this is hitting something in you, if you're reading this and feeling the weight of a pace you know isn't sustainable, I want you to be the first to know when it drops.

Sign up to get notified when Peace Not Pressure releases → peacenotpressure.com/book

Next week, I'm going to get into the brain science of why you keep defaulting to pressure even when you know better. And why "just trust God more" isn't the fix. (Your neurons have something to say about that.)

Until then, ask yourself this:

Am I building from peace? Or am I running on pressure and calling it faithfulness?

Be honest.

The answer matters more than you think.

Onward,

Chris Behnke

P.S. — After Portugal, someone asked me, "How do you know if you're running on pressure vs. peace?" My answer was simple: If your life would collapse with you at 60% for three months, you're running on pressure. Peace builds something that holds weight even when you can't.

My dad has talked to me about some of his emotions when he was a child. I find it interesting to hear what others lived through or what they think.

 “I never wanted to get old because I really disliked “old” people when I was a kid.”
“Why is that, dad?”
“They treated us like we were nothing, always grouchy and irritable. They didn’t like us and I didn’t like them. I never wanted to be old and be disliked by others because of it.”
“Well," I said, "I like older people and I am going to be pretty sassy and involved when I’m older!”

There are always new generations being born and ones always dying off. A generation spans about 15 years according to the internet. I find it fascinating that we have names for the generations.

The next generation will always bring a new wine skin. It is very important that we learn how to value the next generation—not so that we may manipulate them into going in the way we have always gone, but to understand that they have fresh insight into a culture we have either checked out of or have no clue about at all.

My kids are Gen Z. And to me, they are hard to understand in their mindset.

They aren’t black and white really, and they seem to really want authenticity. They might care about something, but then they don’t care about a lot of things. They really demand respect before giving it and seem to be open to relationships. They have a lot of selfish elements about them, but then they can be very generous. They don’t seem to want to dream very big and don’t seem to want to set big goals in front of them. They don’t seem to care about obtaining a lot of material possession, I think they see life as more of an experience than a manifestation of stuff. A virtual world is their normal. They seem inconsistent in a lot of ways and are often very self-absorbed. They will work hard if they believe in what they are doing. I think they might feel invisible and often act like observers.
They kind of do what they want. And getting them to be passionate about something they don’t believe in is like pulling teeth. They simply won’t do what they don’t want to do. But if they are fired up, you know about it.

Casting vision for Gen Z is very important. Being real with them is very important. Hypocrisy is a big turn off. And they know it when they see it. They are like lie detectors.

Every generation carries its own sound.
The problem has come where each generation thinks they are the only sound, and will ever be the only sound and they have no interest in hearing any other sounds of any other generations. And I am talking to every generation now and coming.

We must be very intentional about respecting each generation's sounds. And not just respecting it, but valuing what they bring.

Gen X can’t look down on Gen Z.
Boomers shouldn’t be turning their noses up at Millennials.
Gen Alpha should value what Gen X has.
Gen Z should treasure what Boomers learned.

And it starts with the older generations. If the older generations think the younger are stupid, careless, worthless and ignorant in everything because they do things differently or value things that were never a thing when they were young, why on earth would younger generations value anything the older ones have to teach them? Older generations have problems believing the younger ones are somehow void of wisdom or knowledge because they are young.

Younger generations think the older ones are nothing but a festering nest of self righteous know-it-all’s. “If they can’t respect us, we won’t listen to them.” (Not to mention that their concept of love is entirely screwed up).

So—they shut each other out.

Respect goes both ways. But respect should be taught from the older to the younger first, not the other way around. It's a fallacy that you can make hearts respect you out of fear and manipulation. We must demonstrate what we want to people to catch.

I didn’t demand respect from my kids while disrespecting them. That breeds rebellion.
 
As older generations, we must not take on the attitude of “I’m gonna be dead soon anyway, why should I care what they think about me or where the world is going?” This is a lazy and selfish way to think about our responsibility in this world and to our families.

There is no such thing as retiring from a relationship. However, it does seem to be a thing that's been invented.

One of the greatest issues we face, in American family culture at least, is that of major disconnection from the different generations. We simply have stopped trying to relate to one another and the gap has grown huge.

And what is being lost? Wisdom, knowledge, value on family and it’s legacy. What has been gained? Pain, loss, mistakes that could have been avoided and resentment towards people that doesn't need to be there.

The judgment over each other has to stop. I am talking to all ages.

I know one of my kids has problems listening to the older generations because of how she has been treated in the past by them or from what she has witnessed. Obviously, that is her issue to work through, but if she doesn’t work through it, that wisdom the older gen’s have will be lost to her and everything she affects will be affected by that loss of wisdom.
 
In regards to the technological world we now live in, just because we don’t understand something doesn’t make it wrong or unobtainable.

The age we live in now has been confusing to the oldest generations. But, from what I know, doing new things is important to brain health for all of us. So maybe, we should stop being afraid of everything new and ask for help or try something out.

The younger generations need to know that technology, while being a huge part of the future, is not the only thing they should be learning how to do.

We need each other no matter the age gap. We need to value each other and not think anyone is obsolete whether they are younger or older.

The sounds of each generation need to ring together in life. Exercising the muscles of generational bonds should go both ways.

Older ones should actively try and connect to the younger ones no matter the fear of rejection. We have to get over ourselves… They should be interested in what they are doing, thinking, where they are growing, how they are creating and playing and act as mentors to them. They should not wait for the younger to come to them! This is a ridiculous idea and I believe stems from personal fear of rejection. There is healing for this.

The younger ones should not be afraid to connect with the older ones. They should see them as a source of comfort, advice, safety and wisdom. They should develop a healthy respect for more experienced people, getting rid of young arrogance and extreme ignorance for the wisdom they are missing.

We cannot influence each other while judgment sits in the seat in between us. That needs to go. The older generations will always have something to pass on to the younger ones, and the younger ones will always keep the older ones younger and flexible.

Our culture should not be one that de-values experience in Spirit, soul or body and yet that is where we are currently. We have made youth to be a golden calf and it is wrong.

Today, aside from building out relationships with our own Gen Z kids, I personally track down younger people and develop relationships with them, because I know how awkward it is to have to ask someone older to spend time with me. I’ve been attempting to build relationships with older ladies for a long time and most often it has been very one sided with no reciprocation from the older women. (this one-sidedness doesn’t include my mother or mother in law) Until recently the Lord has finally sent some ladies into my life that I value highly and I know they value me and invest in me. But what is my role no matter my age? It is to seek out how I can be of help to younger ladies and root for their success. I want my ceiling to be their floor.

As we learn to get this right, the sounds of the generations valuing each other will make one grand song. The unification within all generations will make powerful family legacies and spiritual bonds we never knew could exist. But it will take very purposeful effort to establish new mindsets.

The experienced people have seen and lived through a lot- and the young despite their immaturity are bringing in the new. We both have much to learn from each other.

Does the action of doubt erase the action of faith and its fruit? 

I asked this of my husband recently, because this was something I had been thinking about.

“If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God who gives generously to all without reproach and it will be given to him. But let him ask in faith, WITH NO DOUBTING, for the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea that is driven and tossed by the wind. For that person must not suppose that he will receive anything from the Lord; he is a double-minded man, unstable in all his ways." (James 1: 5-7)

Well, crumb. Reading this scripture it kind of looks that way.
Being double minded means that our loyalties are split. It is sorta like being a dual spy or double agent. God does not employ double agents. He wants all or nothing. He wants consistency.

While doubt is often a stepping stone to uncover truth, it commonly derails and weakens our faith in the truth.

What about this: “And without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to Him must believe He exists and that He rewards those who earnestly seek Him.” (Hebrews 11:6)

Faith should not waver. It's believing in what we cannot see with our eyes. It must be undefiled by doubt.

It is no easy thing to live out. In fact it's downright silly in the eyes of the world. Logic says you're a bit of a dummy if you believe in something you can’t touch or see manifested. Logic has destroyed a lot of faith in God. Self-preservation has destroyed a lot of faith in God.
 
But, the Lord did say, that whomever wants to “live” must die to themselves. How strange that phrase can sound. He was talking about surrender, but it sounds so paradoxical.

So, is our Faith journey similar to the game Chutes and Ladders? Where we move forward a few squares but then hit a slide (doubt) and go backwards? Perhaps.
 
What I do know is that to grow with God, we must develop faith and keep it growing.
I am not going to talk about how to keep building faith here, but only that this is probably one of the most important things we can be doing in our lives as christians.

God doesn’t share his loyalty with any other god or idol.  This should be very sobering to us.  All of our devotion and belief must be given to the God who created us.

A man or woman who doubts is not trusting. I am not talking about doubting a car that is giving symptoms of dying. I am talking about placing all our bets on God and His promises.

Here's another verse that should cause us all to pause.  
“So, because you are neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth…”  (Revelation 3:16.)

Is our faith and devotion lukewarm, mediocre or tepid?
 
We must ask ourselves this question. Because it's a pretty big deal to God.  And whatever is a big deal to God, better be a big deal to us.

We have faith in a lot of things. And we don’t often second guess the faith we have put into them.
 
Our quest here on earth is to have faith in God that is as big as a mustard seed. And what a shame it is that us humans have such a hard time in having faith as big as that micro seed?
I’m not pointing fingers here—I am in this with you.

We don’t want to constantly be taking the chute down to another lower level—but we must be aware of our minds and mouths and what they are thinking and saying in order to not keep killing the faith we were building.

I’m getting off the doubt tilt’a whirl. What about you?

Busy-ness.

“I’m busy.”

“I can’t do it, I’m just too busy.”
 
“If I just wasn’t so bogged down and busy…”

“I wish I wasn’t so busy!”
 
I’ve used this excuse, maybe a few times.

However, the more aware I become of myself of what I am doing can actually help eliminate the word “busy” from our list of excuses to not do something.

Play this with me for a moment.
 
What if we simply were not allowed to use the term “busy” anymore? How would we tell someone we won’t help them out, or participate or give or be with someone?
 
What if we actually had to give the reason to why—if we had to it out? I wonder how transparency would change what we do?

Our culture loves to use the term “busy” as a cover letter for an excuse of why we just can’t commit to something. It's a “you don’t get to ask me what or why” card. If I say “I’m busy” then the door is shut.

The truth is, we pretty much make space for the things we want to make space for. Obviously there are exceptions—we don’t need to argue about that.

We humans have some problems with commitment to good habits, self discipline, growing, and to the giving of ourselves outside our bubble.

We do like to commit ourselves to comfort, pleasure and self absorption and to leave room for something better.

I will be the first to raise my hand on that.

Most of the time when I get a phone call from one of my parents, the first thing they ask me is, “are you busy?” In other words, do I have space to talk to them? I try not to answer their call when I am not able to have enough free time with them. And occasionally, I will answer it just to let them know I am hearing their request to talk and I will call them back.

Gone are the days of people just picking up their phones when someone calls. We want to know what we are committing to before we commit to the phone call. "Let them leave a message, I’ll see what they want first before I commit to talk to them.” Ya, I am guilty of this too.

I do not have a bigger lesson on this word then, really, can we be aware of how much we are uttering the word “busy”?

How is the use of this word “busy” being or not being abused by ourselves?
Can we take a look at all the things we might be missing because of the use of the word “busy”?

Busy-ness is usually a robber of the most important things in our lives. It often gets used because of the emotion of overwhelm in our lives. We are already feeling like what we are doing is abnormal and we are drained and just can’t do one more thing.

Ok, I understand. I have felt this a lot.

But, what is it we should be saying yes to, and what is it we should be pulling the “busy” card on? Is that balanced?

Evaluate. And watch yourself before you use the blanket term “I’m busy”. What are we busy with and why?

Leave space for the unexpected. Leave space for the last minute invitation to lunch. Leave space for a conversation with someone who needs to be heard or who’s phone call you just need to pick up for.

Put in the space to not have to drive in a hurry, to take more time cooking the meal or eating.

Literally, I have been watching myself in a hurry eating, when there is no reason to be in a hurry. I must re-learn to not wolf my food down.

Why am I even doing this?

Because of bad habits. The feeling that I am just too busy to enjoy the food comes from way too many times of believing this is the case.

The whole world is entirely over-busy and we just need to stop. We need to learn to enjoy space to just observe, to appreciate and  value what is in front of us right now.

Let us Leave quiet space to hear God talk- no music, no sound, no appointment to get to.
Just like a credit card that should be used sparingly, so should our excuse of “I’m too busy”.
Let's bring out the transparency and be honest with each other and with ourselves.

I really dislike being over committed. I do know the feeling of having to tell someone no because I already have a commitment. I also know how it feels to have one's personal space invaded with a last minute engagement. Flexibility is important. Boundaries are important. Balance is really important.

I want to have enough wisdom and discernment to know when the word “busy” is needing to be buried or exchanged for an important date with eternal consequences.
God can help us with this- if we are interested in hearing from Him.

I have just finished a book called "What a Difference a Mom Makes" (to her son) by Dr. Kevin Leman.

I really needed to read this book and I'm sure I will be reading it again at some point. I must admit, I have butted heads a lot with our oldest son. We are similar in some traits and compete for the podium. Sometimes I get so frustrated with him I literally just don't like him at all. And my attitude shows it.

That's bad.

I think one of the things I have learned more about from this book is that I really need to focus more on what he has done right, and not so much where he can improve on. What he has done right. I view myself as a teacher and teachers correct their pupils mistakes.
 
I also have been reminded that just because I do not see any improvement in him doesn't mean that the correction and teaching and love I am giving him is going unnoticed or implemented. I must remind myself on a daily basis that he is human, inexperienced, different, and a child.

Being a mother that cares and desires her children to be warriors for Christ is so very difficult and hard. I must hold balance in love and discipline, in patience and efficiency in my expectations and grace. Constantly reviewing the fact that I to am human, flawed and corrupt. Christ and his grace must be accepted by me first, and only then can it be passed into another soul. For I cannot give away and teach that which I do not have or understand.
Really, attitude change in my son starts with me.

To fully accept my son, I must fully accept myself and to give him grace, I must allow it to myself.
 
So much easier said then done. The first step to improvements is recognizing there is a problem. I'm going to warp him, I know I will! Hopefully it will just be a small warp-age!

So, this reminds me of a cute story about when our oldest daughter was about 3 and she was playing with play dough at the table. She was rolling out little rolls of dough and sweetly looked up at me and said, " mommy, would you like big or little mistakes?" I replied the smallest you can do please! Ha!

~Prudence

I homeschool, as you already know.

One day, I really needed a break and wanted to spend the entire day in my workroom. (My husband said I could if I wanted too). I wasn't thrilled about the idea of kids interrupting left and right. But you know, I do have kids and I can't bolt the door shut and lock them out all day, what kind of mother would I be if I did that?

So, I decided to make a buddy system for them. Pairing the girls and boys, I wrote up an entire page of activities and chores for their teams to do together and made checkboxes next to each one. Of course they were thrilled with not doing their normal school work, and if there was even a whiff of a complaint from the olders I simply brought up, "well there is school for you to do if the buddy system doesn't sound good to ya.." Ha! Teacher is so manipulative. ;-) Anyways, the list worked pretty well for most the day, until the older's got drained from the littles. Here is sample of a few things that the teams got assigned too.

 Even mom's that just have kids home in the summer can use this idea on days when you just need a break.

• construct treasure hunt for opposite team ( I gave them prizes or a treat to hide)
• exercise with Wii fit for 30 minutes.
• Owen reads 3 books to Sawyer. Mags to Sade
• Play with Lite Bright for 20 minutes.
• play one board game (put away when finished)
• check dog dishes
• color for 30 minutes. (clean up when done)
• choose one educational show and watch with opposite team.
• play with blocks for 30 minutes. (clean up when done)
• review memory verse
• pretend you're spies 40 minutes. (clean up when done)
• play with cars in your room 30 minutes. (put away)
• tidy your room 10 minutes.
• make cookies
• brush teeth
• may watch one fun movie together
• Mags help Sade do an art project
• girls play with toys in in Mags room

Kids enjoy a little structure and being in charge. they also love checklists and this idea helps them learn some teamwork and feel purpose when mom needs a break. Make up your own list according to what you have in the house, and your according to your kids age and don't make the tasks too long. Give them a timer for their tasks and activities.

I have had problems with depression and moodiness for as long as when I was a teenager maybe longer.

I never realized I had an issue till I was about 23 years old.

When I was at a doctors visit, my blood pressure reading was so bad, they had to retake it just to double check! I was so nervous to be there and never realized it. The blood pressure checker gave me away. The reading led the doctor to ask me if I had problems with anxiety or depression. He said he had some pills that would help me keep it under control and that if I wanted to try it, he would let me. I thought he was a nut at first, thinking there was no way I needed something for my attitude. I went home and shared what the doc suggested with my husband. Chris nearly choked up his coffee when I told him the idea. He thought it was a fabulous idea and that I definitely should try it. He wanted me to go back right away and get the prescription. I told him it could wait a week for when I returned for a check up. I got the pills.

An antidepressant changed my attitude drastically. It changed me for the better, although I did experience some side effects. I was drowsy if I took it in the morning, it mellowed my anger bursts and took away the days of major rock bottom.

I was a different person. No doubt about it.

Three years later, I wanted to come off of it. I didn't want to be on medication my whole life if I could help it. The meds made me feel weird and I was tired of the feeling even though I knew it helped me. I knew there were many different drugs out there to try, and that if I hit rock bottom again while off the meds I was on, I could try something different. The doctor that was helping me get off the meds wasn't a lot of help. He was a medical doctor from Kaiser.

He basically told me to wean myself off the pills a little at a time and that it should take about two weeks to be completely off. And that if I felt like I was going to kill myself or anyone else in the process, to give "this" number a call. If I felt like I was having a lot of trouble, to come in again and he would get me going on something else. That's it. All the help and support I got. There was a big possibility I would never be able to be off of them. Some people are just lacking in what it takes physically to be mentally healthy.

Three weeks later, I am finding myself sitting in the bathroom alone, for long amounts of time doing nothing.

I am waking at odd times in the night not going back to sleep. I am uninterested in my usual fun things and food. I am grouchy and irritable.

Chris is worried.

I asked him, "is this who I use to be?" Yes, he says, "exactly who you were."

My heart was ripped out. I hated this woman.

Because of the drastic change of coming off the meds so quickly, I saw her point blank. The woman who I use to be and was comfortable in. She was downright nasty, horrible person. I knew I was headed back for different meds. There was no way I could put my family through that, much less myself.

I finally decided to try different medication, something different that was recommended to me, it worked well! I knew after that, most likely, I would always need a booster for my mental deficiency. Although, I was saddened by the thought of being on drug my whole life. I had heard rumors that eventually they would stop working, and I would have to find a different drug.

A few years later, Chris was introduced to a natural-path doctor. The doctor is part scientist. He had created a supplement that takes the place of antidepressant drugs and is a positive booster to the brain. The doctor needed help in marketing his product and selling it to the world.

Chris is an entrepreneur, and was more than happy to take on the job as that part of the business, mostly due to the overwhelming success they had already seen in the clinical practice with this supplement.

I am a prime candidate for the supplement called EQ. I was weaned off my meds for eight weeks. All the while taking EQ.

My experience with coming off antidepressants this time was quite different. I did not experience a rock bottom. The doctor was there for me whenever I had questions about myself or the supplement. I came off the harsh antidepressants and was now again a different person. No longer mellowed and flat lined with no emotions, but energetic, and feeling the roller coaster of normal up and down moods. The most important being that when my mood goes down, it doesn't stay down, it comes back up!

Yes, I have my days of cloudiness, who doesn't? I can't say that the rain I'm surrounded by on a constant basis doesn't help contribute to sour moods, I have also noticed when the sun is pouring out of the sky, I am a happier person.

Can I say, if you are getting advice to fix a problem and you and the doctor both agree on how to fix it, DO what the doctor is suggesting. I'm guessing doctors get blamed a lot for "not helping patients" because the patient isn't willing to take the responsibility and do their part to fix the problem.

It's been a bit of a journey, but I can say that Equilibrate has changed my life, a mental miracle.

If you are struggling with this, I encourage you to check EQ out here.

~Prudence

I think one of the verses in the Bible I fall back on the most is in Philippians. Chapter 4. verse 13.

You want to look it up real quick?

I can do all things through Christ that strengthens me.

I consider myself a weak person. Stubborn? Oh, yes. Responsible? Yeah, I think so... Dependable? uh huh, I'm pretty dependable, at least I think I am! Do I think I can do all things? Nope. I don't think I can do all things. I know that this is a reliable, secured fact. One of the areas I am weak is: I get scared and afraid of regular people. Yes. Most the time, I would rather be the fly on the wall. I don't like the spotlight nor large crowds. Crowds give me the jitters. I don't always feel up to social gatherings and I would rather chew my finger off then call someone I don't know. I have problems with confronting people verbally. I'm afraid I will be left standing there with the losing end of the debate.

There are a lot of places in my heart that the muscles just aren't worked on a regular basis. Those muscles hurt bad when I do use them. But, regardless of what I was or wasn't gifted to do, there are so many things I need to do and have to do regularly or annually, or... whenever the Holy Spirit prompts me to DO IT. The times when I think I just can't go on. The moments I just wish I weren't involved with. The uncomfortable feeling that I come to know when I'm doing things that aren't a natural way for me. Those things that I'm just sure, I cannot do. It's Christ's power in me that overrides my weak system. It's the Holy Spirit who opens my mouth to say what I should say, what I can not say on my own.

It's His strength that moves my fingers that are being called to action. When I feel weak, I have to ask him to step in and take things over. Because my humanness has trouble letting go of control consistently. I have to hand over the assignment I feel I can't handle. I have to give him my passcode and allow him inside to give me the updates I have to have in order to achieve what I'm being asked to do. Letting The Spirit infiltrate my soul, I have to start my day giving him the reigns to drive it. (The Lord knows, I get us lost if I don't). I can Everyday, (when I ask) do all things through Christ, who gives me the strength to do it. I know for certain it isn't mine.

~Prudence

Last week I told you about the descent.

The Well of Initiation. The surgery. The pit pattern. Jacob's limp.

This week, I want to tell you what happened after.

God doesn't just rescue you from the low place. He moves you through seasons. Intentionally. Strategically.

I know for me, in my life, if I’m not paying attention, I might try to stay somewhere you were only meant to pass through.

After the surgery, Prudence and I stayed in a 200 year old AirBNB made from a converted windmill in Caparica, Portugal.

It overlooked the Tagus River. Quiet. Still. Beautiful.

I spent most of my time there horizontal. (Not by choice. My body was demanding it.)

There was a lot of sleeping. A lot of silence. A lot of just… being.

I'm a Driver. I don't do "being" well. I do doing. I do building. I do moving.

But the windmill wasn't a place for building. It was a place for recovering. And God made that painfully (literally, figuratively, and in every other way) clear.

The windmill was the womb. (I’m not trying to get weird here…)

It was where the extraction happened. Where the initial healing began. Where I had no choice but to rest.

Here's the thing…A windmill is not a throne room.

It's a place where invisible force becomes visible productivity. Wind comes in. Flour comes out.

Conversion happens.

You're not meant to live there. You're meant to pass through.

About a week into recovery, we moved to a new apartment in Lisbon. (We actually had to stay longer because I wasn’t even able to fly back)

When we walked in, Prudence looked at me and said, "This feels like a castle,"

She wasn't wrong.

I mean, it was an apartment IN an apartment building in the middle of the city BUT still… Giant ceilings. Echoey rooms. A wide stone staircase leading up to the main floor.

It felt ancient. Significant. Set apart.

Again for me, something shifted again.

In the windmill, I was healing.

In the castle, I was being prepared. (Still healing too though…)

There's a difference.

Healing is passive. You receive it. You let your body (and soul) do the work.

Preparation is active. You're being positioned. Equipped. Readied for what's next.

The wide staircase stood out to me. I had just descended nine levels in the Well of Initiation. Now I was climbing. Ascending. Moving upward.

The echoing rooms weren't emptiness. They were resonance. What you speak in a place like that carries. What you hear reverberates.

I started to sense that this wasn't just a nice Airbnb. This was symbolic. Prophetic, even.

God was saying something.

The Season Between Seasons

Here's what I think is easy to miss:

There's a season between the pit and the palace.

Joseph didn't go straight from the prison to Pharaoh's court. There was a process. A waiting. A preparation.

David didn't go straight from the cave to the throne. He spent years being shaped, tested, and positioned.

The windmill was my cave. The castle was my preparation chamber.

I KNOW some of you reading this are in the in-between right now.

You've come out of something hard. The pit. The surgery. The season of loss or confusion or pruning. You survived it. You're healing.

But you're not sure what's next.

You feel stuck between who you were and who you're becoming.

Let me tell you what I'm learning: that space is not wasted.

Psalm 23:1-3 says it this way:

"The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he refreshes my soul."

Notice the order.

He makes you lie down. (For me that's the windmill.)

He leads you beside quiet waters. (That's the transition.)

He refreshes your soul. (That's the preparation.)

You don't skip steps. You walk through them.

One of the things God has been doing in me during this season is what I can only describe as a rewiring.

Not just healing my body. Reprogramming my mind.

I've spent most of my adult life wired for output. Momentum. Achievement. Proving.

And some of that is good. I'm a high-Driver. I build things. I move fast. That's how God made me.

But some of it is broken.

If I’m being totally honest with you, and I am… some of it is striving instead of trusting. Performing instead of resting. Running on fumes and calling it faithfulness.

God is rewiring those circuits.

He's installing something I've started calling "Prog Rest" — progress while at rest.

It sounds like an oxymoron. But I think it's actually the way the Kingdom works.

Isaiah 40:31 says, "But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint."

That's not a picture of striving. That's a picture of alignment.

When you're aligned with who God made you to be, and moving in the timing He's set, you don't burn out. You soar.

I'm not there yet. But I'm starting to see it.

One more thing I have to mention.

Prudence and I are bonding in ways we haven't in years. Maybe ever.

This trip forced us into each other. Not in a romantic Hallmark way. In a "we are surviving something together" way.

She navigated foreign roads alone. Sat in hospital waiting rooms. Managed everything while I was unconscious or useless. Held it together when I couldn't.

And I watched her do it.

I've always known she was strong. But watching her operate under that kind of pressure, in a country where she didn't speak the language, with zero margin for error? Folks she is a 50 point stabilizer…

It changed something in me.

We're not just married. We're allied.

We crossed something together. And you don't come out of that the same.

(If you're married, pay attention to this. Crisis either exposes the cracks or fuses the bond. What you do in the fire determines what you become after it.)

If you're in a season of recovery — let yourself recover.

Don't rush through the windmill. Don't try to turn your healing season into a productivity season. Let God do what He's doing.

But also — don't set up permanent residence there.

The windmill is not the destination. It's the conversion point.

There's a castle waiting. A preparation chamber. A place where you're positioned for what's next.

2 Corinthians 4:16-17 says, "Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all."

Your troubles are achieving something. The hard season is producing something. The pit, the surgery, the windmill — none of it is wasted.

God doesn't confuse your recovery room with your throne room.

He knows exactly where you are. And He's already preparing where you're going.

Next week, I'm going to tell you about Óbidos — an ancient walled city where Prudence and I walked on the walls in the rain. (I MEAN RAIN)

Nearly alone. Quiet. Prophetic.

I'll tell you what I believe God is saying about the watchman's posture — and why He might be positioning you to see what others can't.

Until then — if you're in the in-between, don't despise it.

The transition is part of the process.

And the castle is closer than you think.

If you're trying to figure out who you are in this season — what you're wired for, what you're called to, what God actually designed you to do — my book Your Divine Blueprint might help.

It's about understanding your design at the deepest level. Not personality theory. Not self-help fluff. Real clarity about how God made you and why.

We're still giving copies away free this month. You just cover shipping. Prudence and I sign every one.

Get your free copy here → https://blueprint.goddesignedliving.com/free-book

Read more on the blog → https://chrisandprudence.com/blog/category/the-tenacious-pursuit-chris

Onward,

Chris Behnke

P.S. — The apartment in Lisbon had a washing machine that took three hours per load. Three. Hours. I don't know what that means prophetically, but I do know that sometimes the process just takes longer than you want it to. And you wait anyway. Because clean clothes matter. And so does patience.

Logically, I don't understand the power of prayer.

I don't understand how something so easy for us to do, can be so swept under the carpet as something that's as forgettable as writing a thank you note.

I read in the Bible how we should pray ALL the time, not just for a meal, or when uncle Mason is on the way to the hospital, or a quick "thank you " for letting us miss that accident. Not that I shouldn't pray about those things.

Praying without ceasing. In her book 1000 Gifts, Ann Voskamp says that the only way to pray without ceasing is to pray with your eyes wide open.

Another habit I am working on making a stable part of my life. Satan, he loves to help me forget about starting my day with a cup of God. The devils get kicks out of showing me other options, anything other than putting my day on the altar. The enemy understands what happens when I make Jesus my priority, and he knows that talking to The Master of the seas causes the waves in my day to be tolerable.

I have discovered that the more I try to make prayer a priority, the days I intentionally hand over the keys, and ask Christ to drive. Those are the days that my problems feel easier to endure. Somehow, I am more relaxed about life's insanity and the moments of chaos that normally drive me to the edge of a cliff. There is power when I talk to him. And it makes a difference.

He will wait all day for me to surrender. And way too many days he does wait all day. Only till I get through a crummy day, do I realize, I never gave it to Him. Some days, I am full speed ahead and the ship is sprouting leaks left and right, then I remember, I forgot the tar on the deck. The sealant on the nails, I forgot to hang up the captains hat and take the job as skipper. There is power there. I know there is. And I am going to keep telling myself that over and over and over till, my habit of talking with Him is firmly instilled and is apart of me so much that I feel naked without it.

I have so far to go. But the first step to recovery and becoming that new person is the discovery of who I can and should be.

1 Thessalonians 5: 17
 
Never stop praying.

~Prudence

Written in 2013

Owen is our oldest son. He is almost ten.

He is a lot like me except pushier. He is our sheriff of the house. Never letting anyone off the hook about anything that is or isn't important. He loves technology and is into making stop motion movies with legos. He has a hard time playing with un-organized toys by himself. He observes a lot and is always listening in on other people's conversations. He is learning how to not roll over other people's words and practicing self control when faced with what he believes is injustice! He is super smart and hasn't learned that his brain is quite capable of doing huge things.

I tell him all the time he is smart and I expect him to use his brain. He has an amazingly contagious laugh and comes up with random goofiness that makes me chuckle. I think he has good vibrato and can eventually learn to sing well. He had a Great Grandma that sang on the radio once. Maybe he inherited a singing voice.

He is growing into a responsible young man. Never seems like he's growing fast enough in that area, but he will arrive eventually. Owen loves his little sister and plays with her on the floor wrestling around. He is good with Sawyer too, the boys get in fights but what brothers don't? He can play well with Maggie, and we are teaching the two of them to work together even when they don't care for each others company. He hums when he is content and he loves his yorkie, Winston.

Being asked to do chores without complaint is starting to become reality. We went through a time of tearing down selfish and lazy attitudes. We are coming out the other side now and it seems to have helped mold him into a better worker.

Going through dark weeks of training and refinement with kids is a tough job for both parent and child. It happens about every six months with my kids, each taking turns with emotional growth spurts. I'm certain I'm missing a lot and warping them all in many ways.
I can only pray and hope they are forgiving enough to overlook my faults, and wise enough to adopt the good that they're taught. And Lord have mercy on us all, if Owen ever decides Law Enforcement is his bag of chips when he's grown!

Last week I told you about our anniversary trip to Portugal that went sideways.

This week, I want to take you deeper.

Literally.

Before the surgery, before the hospital, before any of us knew what was coming, Prudence and I visited a place called Quinta da Regaleira in Sintra, Portugal.

It's an old estate with gardens, grottos, and hidden tunnels. But the main attraction is something called the Well of Initiation.

It's not a well for water. It's a well for descent.

The Well of Initiation is a spiral staircase carved into the earth. Nine levels. Each level representing a stage of symbolic death, transformation, and rebirth.

You walk down. And down. And down.

At the bottom, there's no water. Just stone. And silence.

But…

You don't climb back up the way you came.

There's a system of tunnels at the bottom that leads out through the mountain. You exit through darkness into daylight on the other side.

I stood at the bottom of that well, in the quiet, and felt something shift, well actually, the entire trip was full of moments where I felt something shifting….

I didn't know it yet, but I was being prepared.

Two days later, I was on an operating table.

The abscess had been growing for who knows how long. Hidden. Silent. Doing damage I couldn't feel until it was almost too late.

When the surgeon cut it out, he removed something that had been poisoning me from the inside.

(Not to get too graphic, but let's just say I now have a very personal understanding of the phrase "cutting away what doesn't belong.")

I've been thinking about that a lot.

How many of us are carrying things we don't even know are there?

Bitterness we've normalized. Wounds we've buried. Lies we've believed so long they feel like truth.

Sometimes God has to cut to heal.

And sometimes the surgery happens in a foreign country, in a hospital you didn't plan to be on, with a doctor whose name you can't pronounce, (actually I can, it was Pedro, but the street that the hospital was on, nope)

I believe there's a pattern in Scripture. A repeated theme, and as I’ve started to see it, I can't unsee it.

Joseph — thrown into a pit by his brothers, sold into slavery, later imprisoned. Came out as the ruler of Egypt.
Daniel — thrown into a lion's den. Came out unharmed, and his enemies were destroyed.
David — hid in the cave of Adullam, running for his life. Came out anointed to reign.
Jeremiah — lowered into a dry cistern and left to die. Came out and kept prophesying.
Lazarus — placed in a tomb. Came out alive.
Jacob — wrestled with God all night at the Jabbok River. Came out with a limp and a new name.

You see it?

The pit is not the end of the story. The pit is the turning point.

I actually think that every single one of us has a “pit” or really a series of “pit” moments, they are unique to us and ONLY us, and through those experiences, we have a unique opportunity to worship in gratitude a unique expression of worship to the father…

Psalm 40:1-3 says it plainly:

"I waited patiently for the Lord; he turned to me and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand. He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God."

In Genesis 32, Jacob is alone at night by the Jabbok River. A man (some scholars believe it was God Himself) wrestles with him until dawn.

Jacob refuses to let go.

"I will not let you go unless you bless me."

So God touches his hip. Dislocates it. And Jacob walks away with a blessing, a new name (Israel — "one who struggles with God and prevails"), and a limp he'll carry for the rest of his life.

Here's what I'm learning through this…

The limp was not a punishment. It was a mark.

It was proof that Jacob had encountered God. That self-sufficiency had been broken. That from now on, he would lean — not on his own strength, but on his staff. Full dependence.

I think I came out of Portugal with a limp.

Not a physical one. (Well actually still healing, so kinda yea, hoping it goes away)… Something shifted. Something broke. And It’s NOT coming back.

I'm not the same person who got on that plane.

I believe that's actually the point.

If you're in a pit right now — a season that feels low, dark, confusing — I want you to hear this:

The pit is not wasted.

God does some of His deepest work in the lowest places.

He doesn't always rescue you from the descent. Sometimes He meets you in it. Sometimes He uses it to cut out what's been poisoning you. Sometimes He lets you wrestle until dawn — and then touches your hip so you'll never walk the same again.

Psalm 116:7 says, "Return to your rest, my soul, for the Lord has been good to you."

That verse doesn't pretend the hard thing didn't happen. It says: even after the hard thing, you can return to rest. Because the Lord has been good.

Not "will be good someday."

Has been good. Already. Even in the pit.

What's Next
Next week, I'm going to tell you about what happened after the surgery.

The windmill. The castle. The transition from recovery to preparation.

There's a difference between where you heal and where you reign. And God doesn't confuse the two.

But for now — if you're in a low place — don't run from it.

Ask God what He's doing in it. Ask Him what He's cutting out. Ask Him what new name He might be writing over your life.

The pit is not the end.

It's the turning point.

Prudence and I just got back from Portugal.

We went to celebrate 28 years of marriage. Lisbon, Porto, beautiful coastline, good food, zero responsibilities.
That was the plan.

God had a different agenda. (oh my goodness different)
Three days into the trip, I ended up in a Portuguese hospital with an abscess the size of Texas.

Emergency surgery. Anesthesia. A surgeon I'd never met cutting into me while my wife navigated foreign roads in the dark trying to find her way back to the AirBNB, in a country where she didn't speak the language. (She’s a 50 point stabilizer folks, NOT a fun time)

Happy anniversary, right?
Here's the thing, God showed up MASSIVELY…
I'm not writing this to complain. I'm writing because what happened over the next two weeks might be one of the most important spiritual seasons of my life.
I think there's something in it for you, too.

When God Interrupts Your Plans
I've been a Christian long enough to know that God doesn't always explain Himself in advance.

But… when you're lying in a hospital bed in a foreign country, wondering if the infection is going to spread, wondering if you’re gonna have incontinence for life (TMI, I know, but very REAL) it's hard not to ask the question:

Why now? Why here? Why this?
Proverbs 16:9 says, "In their hearts humans plan their course, but the Lord establishes their steps."

I had planned the course. Flights booked. Airbnbs reserved. Restaurants researched. I had a whole itinerary.

God established different steps.
And here's what I'm learning: the interruption was not the problem. The interruption was the point.

A Crisis or a Coronation?
Let me give you the short version of what unfolded:

• I descended nine levels into an ancient well in Sintra called the Well of Initiation, a place built for symbolic death and rebirth. I didn't know I was about to experience both.
• A few days later, I was on an operating table. Something that had been growing inside me, something I didn't even know was there, was cut out.
• We recovered in a converted windmill overlooking the Tagus river. Then moved to an apartment in Lisbon that felt like a castle inside…
• We visited Óbidos, an ancient walled city, and walked on the walls in the rain. Nearly alone. Quiet. Prophetic.
• And through it all, Prudence and I bonded in ways we haven't in years. Probably ever.

I'll unpack all of this over the next few weeks. But here's the headline:
What looked like a disaster was actually a divine reset.

The enemy thought he was stealing our celebration. Instead, he triggered something far more significant.

Isaiah 55:8-9 puts it plainly:
"For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways," declares the Lord. "As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts."

I didn't understand what God was doing. I still don't have the full picture. But I'm starting to see it. And I want to bring you along.

This isn't just my story. It's a framework.
Because if you've ever had your plans blown up... if you've ever wondered why God let something painful happen... if you've ever felt like you were in a pit and couldn't see the way out...

This is for you.

Next week, we go deeper. I'll tell you about the Well of Initiation, the surgery, and what Jacob's limp has to do with all of it.
Until then, pay attention to what God might be interrupting in your life.

It might not be a problem.

It might be a promotion.

Written in 2013

Sawyer is our youngest son. He is five now.

He has all of his father's 'go getter' attitude with his mothers creative switchboard. He is not an easy one to figure out. A very unique little fellow that doesn't put up with anyone's guff.

He says what he thinks without thinking about it and doesn't think half the time about what he says while he's saying it. [I don't even know what that last sentence says].

He is relentless when he wants something and is no stranger to talking to himself. He knows himself well. He sat at the dinner table the other night and told us all that he use to live with other people before living with us, and they used cheese in everything... His dad assured him that he has been with us since the day he was born.

He uses large words that I don't think he knows what they mean. He is a big fan of food, [if he likes the food already]. He is willing to try new things. When he was almost four he requested to be on the inter-tube a speed boat was pulling, sitting all by himself. He rode there and went zooming at a high rate of speed, unafraid of the potential wreck in the water. {mom wasn't on the boat, otherwise I don't know if he would have gotten to do it} He lays out his coins on the table and has wars with the money. The coins are divided up into to two sides. [I think his brothers side loses a lot] I thought the whole money war thing interesting. He had an imaginary friend and land about a year ago. He doesn't visit there as much as he use too, but he described the friends land whose name is Looklin and he has a brother named Decent. The land is Candy Cane Forest.

He likes to ride his little bike with a normal dirt bike helmet. He tries to fix up sweet jumps with random pieces of board. They didn't work out well. He carries large amounts of marbles in his sock, swinging it around; I had to put a stop to the swinging part of it. We went through several months of refinement with him. It was like he got up in the morning and before he said anything, he got a discipline. No, it doesn't happen like that, but I like to joke that there are weeks that I feel that's how it happens.

He is moving into the stage of desiring more friends. We are working on his social skills and how to treat people so they want to have him over. I have been telling him that when a friend doesn't want to do something you want to do, does not mean you tell them they are not your friend anymore. That hurts people's feelings. And you can't yell and be unkind. You have to share your toys and use manners. He says he is really trying to change those things. I think he is. I see improvement with him here at home. He becomes an invisible hero and makes moms bed, or tidies up moms room, or is sweet to his little sister. He will pick flowers {he isn't supposed to pick} for me and says things from a compassionate view point. I breathe a sigh of relief when I see a sweet Sawyer coming around the bend. We have a long way to go before he is released as a young man into the wide world. Training, discipline, guarding, loving, and many other things that go into the making of fine men. I'm so thankful he has a dad that loves him and is investing time into the lives of both his boys and girls.

Sawyer, is a very unique little fellow no doubt about that!

~Prudence

I have a magnet that says this:
'Remember, we are a nice, normal family.'

I love that magnet because it speaks truth for all of us! How many of us pretend we have no problems when we are around others? Or how many times do we wonder, is this normal? What is normal anyways?

What ever normal is, we all want our families to be it!

As a family, we try and accomplish working together (without fighting), we laugh at each others goofiness and try not to hurt each others feelings in the process. We like to experience new places together in our 25 year old RV. We all cross our fingers and hope the RV won't give us trouble.
 
We (most of us, anyway) don't like seafood, injustice, long lines, stupidity and sometimes we don't like each other.
 
We do love Jesus, comedy, our dog Winston, sugar foods, and bath time!

Our kids are well behaved in comparison with a lot of other kids... And not so well behaved in comparison with a few other kids.

We like our kids and are serious about raising them to be Godly humans and a compliment to society.

We try to understand life as it happens to us and although it's often impossible to know why some things are the way they are, we still try to magnify and learn about our problems and trouble and from there, expel it and move on to better places.

We all re-learn every day that each of us are only human. And for the kids, that they are 'kids' and make mistakes and we teach, we train, we give grace, we give love, and we live from there. Because life is tough living without forgiveness and grace.

We take vitamins, love sun, and have a dirty car often. We love sales, and creative ideas, and slip and fall on our rear ends regularly. We like chinese food, cheeseburgers, fries and milkshakes and generally frown upon cats being served for dinner.

We love to play, and rest and don't do well when our schedule is overbooked. We love amusement parks, laughing, and don't sleep well in warm temperatures. We get annoyed by annoying people, love JRR Tolkien, and some of us still need to learn what hard work is. We are mostly pleasant people to be around and don't always hang around folks that are pleasant. (It's not that we choose to hang around people that aren't pleasant, it's because unpleasant people find us and want to hang around us).

Some of us have dreams about our futures and some of us aren't mature enough to have dreams about the future yet. We live under the same roof and are
serving the same God but we are hardly the same in any other aspect. Each one of us is unique and talented in our own bodies and we are learning to share and accept our individual persons as a daily contribution to our journey on planet Earth.

We are The Christopher Behnke family branch. (Although we kind of think of ourselves as the Incredibles!)

If you haven't seen the movie The Incredibles, your missing out! Its our families favorite group movie.

~Prudence

Wrapping my mind around the possibility that God sees all sin the same is a horribly, hard, and frustrating task. I say Possibility because, humans are the ones trying to make sense of how God sees us and how easy it for us to grasp and translate what some things mean. I as a human, measure things from all angles and injustice is a bitter fluid to swallow. I hate injustice. I can't do a lot about many cases of injustice in the world, but I can harbor bitterness towards those that have served it up on a silver platter.

I find myself often mulling over how to change myself to be a better follower of Christ when it comes to other humans out there making dumb choices and blatantly spitting on the cross of Christ. Tolerance is a word that travels a one way street most the time with folk who aren't saved, and sadly many who claim they are saved. People have no trouble telling you to go to Hell, often a place they don't even believe in. Humans are a natural with hypocrisy. We all are. But when Humans have no reason to rid themselves of sin and refuse to see the reality of our destiny, they become unreasonable and uncomfortably hateful.
I just cannot not measure. I cannot see that a murderer is the same as a toddler telling a lie. It really bothers me that I am being told from teachers and from how I understand the Bible that God sees sin as sin. Does he really not think some things are greater sins than others? How can he possibly think that? Our human world has courts where judgements are made every day. Humans judging other humans. We measure up what consequence the guilty get according to what they have been accused of.

So, how can I make sense of this? One thing I keep coming back too is this.

Consequences. Sin is always followed around by its inseparable buddy, consequence. While sin may or may not be big or bigger in God's eyes, one thing is for certain. There is always a reaction to our action. The types of sin carry with them different consequences. If we choose to sleep around, we could get diseases, emotional scars and unforeseen pregnancies. If we choose to get high or drunk, we could cause car accidents, do things we regret later and even be involved with things that we can't remember that are horribly bad. If we choose to murder, we could face execution. If we cheat on our spouse, we risk all of the above when it comes to sleeping around, plus exile from our spouse, embarrassment, and cut out of our families. If we have problems with gluttony, it causes health issues, embarrassing sizes of bodies and guilt. If we steal, we may pack large bags of guilty memories and or if we get caught, prison may follow, in some countries the authorities will chop of your hands. ( I can tell you I have been in a country briefly that practices that last one. Stores felt confident enough to leave their products outside their shops while closed!) If we practice homosexual behavior, you have no option to have biological children as a couple, you will always have humans shunning you because of the lifestyle you choose and many more issues and problems arise because of the unnatural closeness that bonds physically and mentally stemming from homosexuality.

Shame, guilt, embarrassment, these are just a few things that humans face no matter what sin we are practicing. And it doesn't matter whether we consider ourselves saved or not, we all experience these demons.

I have to learn to see humans as people who make their own choices and in turn suffer their own consequences. I cannot be the ultimate judge, and you should be very thankful for that! I cannot condone satan's lies, stupid, evil and disobedient behavior, I as a christian must steer away from sin as best as I can. I must view every human, including myself, as a sinner. Some humans, choose to live their lives through a God filter, striving to live for a purpose and and make better choices resulting in better consequences. Most humans choose to not see the creator for who He is, and will continue on a path of unforgiveness and self destruction. And while my heart breaks for injustice and persecution of the Cross, I must practice forgiveness and open arms to those who are lost. I have an obligation to help pull others that are drowning into the lifeboat of Christ. With a humble attitude and with a growing understanding of grace, I find that you are no better than I and I am no better than you. We are all called to serve HIm. Are you choosing to follow the breadcrumbs to Heaven? It's not easy, there's a reason why only a few of us choose to do it. But then good things are hard and hard things are good, are they not?

Romans 3:23

WE ALL FALL SHORT: For everyone has sinned; we all fall short of God's glorious standard.
For more study from the Bible, the book of Romans has a lot to say about this topic!

~Prudence

There is probably a proper name for the 'old' fashioned rake. The kind of rakes that are metal and its teeth are always set to the ground. The rake that are horrible to use on a lawn because it chews up your grass and gets stuck in the soil. It's great for using on a freshly plowed garden and rooting out the clods. It's heavy and not friendly to toes.

How many times have these rakes resurrected themselves and pummeled unsuspecting victims in the head? That's right, if you have never watched or heard of this happening, I can assure you from first hand experiences that they do this exact thing to humans everywhere!

Picture this. The rake is lying calm and still on the ground. Flat on its back with its cold, had metal teeth bared up. A human foot either mistakenly or out of boredom steps upon the teeth. The rake either doesn't like being stepped on or thinks its funny to pull its thick stem up gaining speed and force quickly, and WHAM! Hits its victim in the head!
If you don't know what I'm talking about and have one of these rakes, be careful when trying to experience the rake resurrection. I've played around with them knowing full well what they can do, and been caught by surprise by their smack down.

My poor mother got nailed big time by one when I was about thirteen. My sister and I were playing up by the house. My mom was in the shed doing some 'cleaning' or something. We looked down the lane to see her crawling on her knees out the doorway. Then flopping down and rubbing her head furiously. My sister and I ran down to see why on earth she was in such a predicament. She explained that she had just stepped on 'the rake' and it hit her in the head! She wanted an ambulance called. We just moved into the small town. We met some neighbors that day. And I bet they all had a good chuckle after they left about how mom's melon got bruised! She didn't get a ride to the hospital in the ambulance that afternoon, dad drove her there himself. I think she ended up with a mild concussion.

I found a fabulous card with a picture of a foot stepping down on a rake for the way to familiar whack. I sent it to mom. She loved it! We still laugh about that day!

Just recently, I bought a really old wooden rake like the metal ones at my mother in law's quaint little event brought by Buckleberry Cottage. The stem isn't but a foot in length and it's missing one or two teeth, like any decent antique wood rake should. I loved it. I bought it. I hung it.

Be on guard with those things! They have an attitude..

~Prudence

Trapped inside, forced to hide
The grey is overwhelming
The wet never ends, sun rarely begins and mold has found its heaven
Beauty in green, a beautiful scene
The rewards of the never ceasing rain
The ocean is near, clouds shedding tears,
I can taste the salt in the air
The beaches are chilly, birds gone silly
The warmth a rare treat indeed
In the opposite direction, Snow White of confection
A mountain stands proud and tall
Danger it yields, vast wonder it wields
And great mysteries it holds within it
The common ground of both, is something I often loath
The torrential dripping of the skies
Like a never ending head cold the wet gets very old
And there is nothing I can do to stop it
I must learn to embrace this wet, grey, green place
And push away any expectancy of sun
For anywhere I go, I will come to know
No place is without a deficiency

Someone once said; "Attempt something so great that it is doomed to fail unless God is in it!"

That is really scary and exciting at the same time. Attempting to do something that is bigger than me? How many times do I shrink back and away from doing something extraordinary or impossible because I know I don't have everything it takes to do it?

We have a magnet that says; "What would you attempt to do if you knew you could not fail?"

This gets one thinking about what you might do if failure wasn't an option on the menu. The word "fear" is cancer to humans. I'm trying to rid myself daily of it. I am tempted to fear a lot of things. And I do. Fear holds me back from a lot in life. It is a lie I keep choosing to chew on.

"Both faith and fear may sail into your harbor, but allow only faith to drop anchor."

Fear is that still small voice that keeps repeating its monotone message.

"You can't do this."

"You aren't smart enough."

"You're afraid of this, remember?"

"Only well-educated people can do this or get this job, you know they will just tell you no."

 And on and on it goes. Satan and his minions offering lies as fast as McDonald's is selling cheeseburgers and fries, and in a lot of cases a lot faster than McDonald's. There just is no end to it, unless I choose to stop listening. And I mean CHOOSE. If I start rejecting the negativity coming into my thoughts, it will die down. Will I ever be completely free of stabs of fear? No. But the more I practice banishing it, I will become stronger and stronger in the battle against fear.

Fear isn't of God. We are to Fear God, but that fear is a reverent Holy Fear. God tells us to fear nothing.

2 Timothy 1:7 (And don't skip over reading this verse, I know how we can be).

For God has NOT given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love and self-discipline
Plus, there are bunches more in the Bible about fear and its problematic symptoms on humans. I have to ask God to take over where I can't do it. He will. He does.
 
~ Prudence

 
Chris and I were given a little book from an older lady years ago.

She said that we were to write in it all the cute things our kids said and did, because, while we always say we will remember, we don't.

So we have been writing in what we call "the book". Here are a few things our kids have said or done in the past:
 
Maggie age 2
Chris had just gotten home and headed upstairs to change into something more comfortable. Maggie, excited dad was home, followed him. He proceeded to start changing his clothes and she asked him if he had "big girl panties" on. He said, " no, boys don't wear big girl panties!" She then tilted her head sideways and with a wrinkled brow thought about it for a minute then said, "you got a pull up on, dad"?

Maggie age 4
I was watching a movie and Maggie came and stood right in front of me holding a little tiara that Grandma had given to her, and asked me, "if you get married again mommy, can I wear this and a white wedding dress"?

Maggie age 6
Maggie decided to give her hair a little trim without me knowing. A few chunks were cut off...When I scolded her for it, she said: " You told me it was good to trim your hair every once in a while!"

Owen age 2 1/2
We were all sitting around the Christmas tree one eve when Maggie and Owen got excited to announce to Dad that they had wrapped some gifts for him that day. Owen then picked up a small package and in the most serious voice stated "and you're not supposed to know that these nail clippers are for you, ok? So don't tell anyone!" at which point Maggie got big eyes and whispered to him " Owen, your not suppose to tell daddy!"

Owen age 8
I asked Owen if he cleaned his bathroom. He told me he forgot. I said," how could you forget? You walk through it enough!" He said "well, I am a professional forgetter!" I said, " I might like to become one of those! "Oops, I forgot your birthday!" Oops, I forgot to make lunch!"... I got the point across.

Owen age 8
While at a friends house, Owen came walking up to me with a ginormous afro wig and announced that while I was busy talking, he grew a little hair!

Sawyer age 3
Sawyer was talking to Chris about a treasure he wanted Chris to help him find. One of the tasks was to cut a large hole in the wall... ( We did not pursue the treasure)

Sawyer age 4
Sawyer was staying at my brother's place for a night or two. Uncle Chuck picked up his clothes and a bunch of change spilled from his pants. Apparently, Sawyer told his cousin Wyatt, (who is older than him) he had to pay him to be his friend! ( Chris and I were facepalming about that)

Sawyer age 4
Driving to pick up one of Maggie's friends, Sawyer randomly announced that whenever he says "Dang it!" It means "beautiful"... Yeah, I told him that just wasn't going to transpire.

Mercedes age 1 1/2
We couldn't find Mercedes. After searching the entire place, we discovered she had crawled out the doggie door and was wandering in the backyard like a person locked up in a mental hospital in one sock. Luckily our yard was fenced!

Mercedes age 3
Chris and I got a knock on our bedroom door from Maggie. "Yes"? we said. Maggie replied, " Um, Sadie is using the glue stick as chapstick!"

I have so many more of these stories. Write them down. You will forget them!

~Prudence
 

Plants, rocks, and skin do not really mesh..

Or do they?

I was just thinking about why I personally enjoy being in the outdoors and walking amongst the swaying trees of a forest thick with lush green ferns. Why is it that I feel a spot of joy when viewing flowers and intricate landscapes? And why do sunsets and sunrises and snow covered mountains cause me to say, "look at that!"

When I was a young girl, we lived at a house that was wonderfully landscaped. It had sculpted bushes and fruit trees, berries, trees, and grass to run through.

I loved it.

I loved spending hours as a homeschooled kid outside. When the flower catalog came in the mail, I poured over it, circling all the flowers I wanted to order and plant. I never got to order any. Mom wasn't big into gardening and I guess I didn't have a big enough voice. But dreaming of the flowers I was going to plant was so much fun!

We did live near a nursery and she did let me buy some things from them. I loved to plant rose bushes and take care of them by watering them. Looking back, I'm guessing they didn't get a lot of 11 year old girls in their nursery having trouble deciding which roses she wanted, and or taking large amounts of time picking out pansies. I loved getting flowers for our little flower cart on the back porch. I also loved those little shiny pinwheels! I had a whole bunch of them and loved to watch them spin. My brother used them as target practice once and boy was I mad! I'm sure he just "wasn't thinking" when he did it, but nevertheless, I still remember being really upset that he would do that to my precious pinwheels. A few bucks was a lot to me then, and they costed at least a dollar each. I still see those fun little pinwheels for sale today, and it takes me back to the joy of being a kid, and the freedom I had within an acre of landscaped land.

I feel one with my maker when I am enclosed in the bubble of nature. Short of being naked and the thistles and thorns (not that I would want to be naked) everything about it takes me back to where the world began its journey. In a garden. Unfettered by the injustice of our society, and untouched by the hurt and pain of our broken lives.

I know my creator loves color. I know he loves variety. I know he loves growth, I know he loves beauty, I know he loves peace, I know he loves us to share. And he loves it when we are still and listen to HIm.

All of these things can be derived from a walk through a garden. Because he made all these different kinds of plants and colors and how much more intricate are we then they?
Appreciate and admire the art He has created. Stop and thank him for that beauty he put in front of you. Meditate and be still with the rocks and listen for Him to speak with the wind.
God made foliage for a reason. It's what he designed for the first set of people to live in! Get yourself a drop of Joy even if it's just a small plant in a pot, and allow yourself to appreciate the Art He has lovingly made for us.
 
~Prudence

Do you know what I learned from my grandmothers?

Nothing.

Not one single thing. Except for maybe the fact that they stayed with their husbands till death, and I had a handwritten note from one before my wedding. It was filled with marriage wisdom, and I know that the woman had so much she could have taught me.

But is was wasted.

I don't know why it was. The only upside I can think of about not knowing any of my grandparents is this: I was spared pain when they died. I had no feelings of sadness except the feeling of regret in not knowing who they were and what I could have learned from them.

Now, my grandmothers are women that I ask others about. Who were they? Am I like them? Wishing something was different can't change the past, but wishing something was different can help me in helping change the future of someone else. Namely my own kids. And then of course, when I begin my season as a grandparent. Once I begin that season, I will never leave it, till I die. (Unless of course, I get no grandchildren).
I think about my grandmothers almost every time I am sitting in my craft room. They both loved to sew, and garden, and make things, one loved music and played by ear just like I do. One kept impeccable records and receipts, and organized well. She loved fashion and Grandpa loved her and taking pictures of her. I can feel my identity with both these women, even though I never really knew them. We talked, small talk. I visited a few times a year for a few hours. But that's where the relationship ended.

I didn't know them. Yet they left an imprint upon me.

Not huge, but the few times we connected, I remember... Grandma. The word felt strange saying it to them. It was a word I didn't say to much. It felt good, but different all in one. There was curiosity for who they were, but the fear of rejection if I probed for more of a relationship. I was waiting. I was waiting for them to reach to me! I was waiting for those older wise women who had spent so much time doing everything but building a relationship. I was waiting for those women to ask me to come and stay, to sew together, to tell me about the good old days, to taste their homemade apple sauce and teach me how to make a pie crust. I was waiting for them to make the first move, because I thought that's how it was supposed to be.

They never came. And I missed out.

They missed out, because I was a precious granddaughter that they never knew they had. I might as well had never been born. I was there. They chose not to know me.

I can and will choose to know my kids and their kids even if we live apart. We don't travel by covered wagons anymore. I can take a plane. I can email. I can snail mail, I can teleport, I can drive, I can call. And I can write to them and leave letters to them of love, and forgiveness and everything that Christ leads me to tell them. Because, people are what matter. And people who we call family, should be our "small group" where we share and give, and laugh and build memories that will last into the next generation. If my grandparents didn't want that, then I don't have to follow that pattern. I have the power to break that cycle. And I will. I will not wallow in what I did not get and pass it on to another generation.

You know what's funny, when I'm a grandma, the days I will have lived will be "The Good Old days". Makes me wonder what is in store for my grandkids. Real bubble wrap suits as to not get a bruise while playing, and a law for babies to wear helmets? Maybe sugar will be outlawed because of cavities and diabetes, maybe we won't eat real food anymore, it will be George Jetson pills we swallow instead! I wonder if everyone will communicate via technology and there will be classes on how to have a real conversation with someone. Maybe the government will refuse to endorse marriage because of the constant fighting about who can marry and who can't. Maybe eating animals will be frowned upon on a regular basis, and we will go to sleep in a closed machine. Yeah, this is depressing to think about, but I'm just thinking how life progress's here! What will be classified as "The Good Ol' Days" for me?

I think I will be a Grandma. I'm looking forward to taking it seriously and cherishing every moment... And of course, I will tell them about those good ol' days!
 
~Prudence

The peacefulness of a sleeping human is unlike anything else.

You know they aren't dead but they aren't really in the realm of where we are standing either. Often times I like to double check everyone before turning my lights out at night. Kissing and asking God to protect them from scary dreams and lures of evil. I see their angelic faces, their thoughts lost inside a world where I am not. I see them grow right before my eyes. They were a baby last time I checked them, weren't they? Just yesterday they were a tiny new baby, and then morning came, and now they are bigger. People always say, time flies. They aren't kidding!

What a wonderful time to pray over the children. Yes, it blesses them to hear your prayers for them, but to pray for them while they sleep, it feels different somehow. We have a drawing of a man bent over his child's bed obviously praying for his son or daughter. In the big window behind him, an Angel from the Lord is spreading his arms and wings preventing an evil angel from coming into the room where the sleeping child lay. I envision that picture often.

Because it's real. I know it is.

My prayers for my kids protect them from things that I will never know how they protected them or when.

Praying can be like that a lot. Not knowing where they go or how they are helping someone or a situation. It's like writing letters and requests and holding the paper in the wind and letting it go. Never seeing that it gets anywhere, but fully trusting that it will get exactly where it should get too. I think that's why us humans aren't very faithful in prayer is because we want results and we want to see, and touch and hear them now. Prayer is a highly powerful tool, that we don't use often enough. I know for me, when I get out of the habit of prayer, my life and attitude turn to mush. And I start relying on human beings to glue my brokenness together. And they can't. I must be patient. For He is patient, and many times slow to answer.
 
God doesn't do things our way. He doesn't need me. He wants me and He loves me and He will use me, but He doesn't need me.

If I won't do a job he is asked of me, He will find someone else who will. Understanding this concept can and does change the way I think about prayer. It becomes a privilege to speak with my Lord. I get to talk to Him!
 
Prayer molds me. There is power in it. And in all my 45 years. I feel like I have barely tapped into it.

I am on a journey. And I have come into the realization, I can not take breaks with prayer. I don't need them. Breaks and vacation from prayer hurts me. There can be no such thing. I don't actually intend on taking breaks, but it happens. The devils hand me more invites on a daily basis to do something other than prayer than there are tea bags in the Buckingham Palace pantry.

Some trials are downright nasty to me. How can I forget to give it away so I don't carry the ball and chain myself? Why am I so bent on keeping my trouble? I forgot. I had someone who would take it for me. And my consequence for not praying my troubles away, is stress. The stress of trying to be in control and knowing I can't control it. And I think we can ad, grouchiness to that too...
 
I must make prayer like the water I drink, the food I eat, the shoes I wear. It must be throughout my day, everyday. And it will change me. He loves me, but He doesn't need me...  but I need Him.
 
-Prudence
 
Colossians 4:2
Devote yourselves to prayer, being watchful and thankful.
 
I recently finished a book I would recommend by Bob Russell called When God Answers Prayer. You may find it interesting, the man is amusing in his writing and conveys his points about prayer fairly clearly.