27. What Do I Do?

© 2020 Daniel Yordy

May - October 1996

Understanding Myself
I had forgotten about the pain. I used to say, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words are the only thing that can hurt me.”

I’m not speaking of that grip in my gut that came into me when I overdosed on LSD and that left me fifteen years later in a moment of glorious and powerful deliverance, a pain I have never known since. Rather, I’m speaking of an autistic pain that throbs between heart and brain, a pain sometimes caused by other people’s words, things I cannot understand and am powerless to counteract, words that strip from me my own power and self-respect.

You see, over the last seven years, I have known little of that pain, not like it was so much of the time and especially through this year of our Lord, 1996. Even as I was preparing to write this letter, however, something was said to me that, in the scheme of things, was minor, but in the moment, it recreated that same throb of great pain. God orders my steps, and writing this narrative opens to me all the emotions of that time that they might pass from me forever.

And so I have borne this autistic pain as a regularly occurring internal suffering from age nine until today. It is NOT caused by demons, but rather by a disability of the nerves. Only in the last seven years have I known to place it with my Father and Father with it, sharing all things with me. Whenever I do that, which is always, the pain vanishes, and I know what I have always wanted to know – Father with me.

Someone might say, “Hey, Yordy, if you were truly 'of God,' you would be healed of all that stuff.” BUT – if God had healed me of that pain at any point along the way, I would not know my Father now. Consider an oyster and a grain of sand. That sand hurts, and so the oyster coats it with salve, but it continues to hurt, and so the oyster continues to coat it until it becomes a pearl of great price, the entrance into the city of God.  

The pain I have known all through my years has caused me to reach desperately for what God actually says in the Bible towards everything and to find the precious truth of Christ which I now share freely with you.

If I had the choice between being healed of the pain and never knowing Father with me as I do now versus bearing that pain over many years and knowing Father with me now, it would not be a choice for me. My choice was made when I was twenty-one and twenty-two; I have not revisited that decision since.

Let’s return now to 1996. A number of great issues arose through the months of May through July in various discussions of the elders, the governing body of the community in both things temporal and things spiritual. These issues are of paramount importance to my desperate decision in mid-October, and so I will go carefully through each.

Most everything from May through October served only to increase that pain.

Issue One: The Potato Business
The first issue was how we should handle the disaster of the potato business. 

During the September rush to complete everything for the harvest, Randy Jordan and I had spoken with certain family members concerning a special investment that would be repaid first upon the sale of potatoes in the spring. We needed this money to finish the potato storage unit. Two couples and one individual agreed to invest their savings under these promises. We gave them our word that their money would return in the spring. Randy went as far as to assure them that, if not, he would personally go to work in Fort St. John in order to return their investment.

Brother William was asked to come into the elder’s meeting to share his side of things. That is when I learned the difficulty that had come for him with Brother Alan Franklin’s death. Yet I knew enough about actuality to realize that William was still living inside his dream, somewhat disconnected from reality. I shared that with the elders when he left. We had no desire to lay any “blame” on William, however. Nonetheless, we had to decide how to proceed.

Since I was the covering over the potato project, I shared a role in this particular discussion. I was very concerned about the commitment that Randy and I had made to those last investors. 

I presented my conviction that we should sell enough of what had been purchased in order to pay back those to whom we had promised a return by May. My conviction did not seem to be shared by anyone else. “Embrace the cross” would be their response to them. In fact, when Randy presented his intention to go to town to work in order to pay those loans back, he was spoken of as immature in the elder’s meeting, that this problem had nothing to do with him.

I had become convinced that maintaining a seed potato business in our area of British Columbia could not work, because the potatoes would never pass inspection. More than that, the effort and dedication that it would have taken to turn it back to William’s original idea was nowhere to be found. And so, even though I spoke only occasionally and briefly, I did hold to a negative position throughout the discussion.

In the end, Brother John Clarke announced that he and Gary Rehmeier would take full responsibility for the ongoing business dilemma; everyone breathed a sigh of relief. It was never discussed again. I know that sometimes optimism is better than pessimism in business, but I also know that most everything was lost and nothing was paid back.

Issue Two: God’s Order for Church
Soon after the issue of the business disaster had vanished, the issue of “the order” for the community was raised. Sister Nathel thought that, on particular occasions, the women should be allowed to wear pants. Sister Delores felt that women should never be allowed to wear pants. 

This question then opened up, ostensibly, to review the entire order for the community, which parts we continued to believe were God’s established order, and which parts might be altered. And so, as elders, we spent two entire days, separate from the regular elder’s meeting, discussing this issue of God’s order for the Church at Blueberry. Afterwards, we took the discussion to the family, and spent two days in the Tabernacle, with many giving their input.

In the end, after four days of discussion, no conclusion was made. AND – to my utter astonishment, we hardly went beyond the topic of women’s clothing. 

I do not mean to make light of things that were believed strongly to be of the Lord by some at that time. Paul is very clear in Romans 14 and 15 – it’s not what you do that counts, but that you do it in the expectation of faith, that God is with you in all things.

Nonetheless, this experience raised a huge question inside of me that would percolate until I was finally able to do something about it several months later. That question is – what is God’s order for His Church as presented in the New Testament? That is, what are the New Testament commandments of God by which Christians should direct their lives?

At the time, one BIG New Testament commandment was very pertinent to me, and I wondered that it never arose in all the discussion for “God’s order for His church.” Here is the King James version. And be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ’s sake hath forgiven you (Ephesians 4:32).

I had the silent idea at the time that any discussion of “God’s order” should begin here.

Issue Three: Writing
Through this time, I wanted to continue to write, this new-found joy of my way of knowing God. In the elder’s meeting, I put that topic into the list and when my turn came, I asked if I could have two mornings a week given to writing. 

The problem was that no ministry in the move wrote anything. The only writing was the transcription of sermons preached, put into booklet form. Thus, there was no context for anyone to think that writing was anything other than “of the flesh.” 

Sister Delores shared that years before she had taken up writing, but God had told her no. 

I asked that the elders hold my request before the Lord to see what He would speak now. A week or two later I put my request back on the list. When it’s turn came, I asked it again. No one responded. After a few minutes of awkward silence, the moderator went on to the next topic. 

I did take some time to write, regardless, but the bigger question that arose in me through this experience was the question of hearing from God. Did anyone actually listen to the Spirit or did everyone just assume already? The elders claimed that they “heard from God.” What did that mean? How did that work? Were they actually “hearing” or were they also operating out from group thinking and pre-judgment?  

I did not have any answers, but I pondered these things deeply. If I was going to be an elder “hearing from God,” I had to know the honest and real meaning of such a thing.

Issue Four: Abuse & “Rebellion”
An issue had arisen at the neighboring Evergreen Community that came into our discussion in the elders' meeting partly because Brother John Clarke, with Bill Grier, had been asked to go into the community to resolve the difficulty. 

A couple from England, man and wife, whom Maureen and I had known briefly at Bowens Mill, were living at Evergreen. It seems that they had gathered with some others who were not elders and were teaching them to live in Christ as them rather than just submitting “blindly” to the elders. Two close friends of ours at Evergreen were part of this “rebellion.” 

And so Brother John and Brother Bill went into the community and “set everyone straight” from behind the pulpit. Basically, they shared that all should either submit or find somewhere else to live. What they did not do was sit down with any non-elder to hear from them.

At the time, all I heard was what was shared by Brother John and Brother Bill and what was discussed among the elders. Only later did I hear the larger picture, of which we did know a part.

There was a brother at Evergreen, who had also lived at Shiloh, who was a pedophile. Now, most of the time, he was a dear brother in the Lord, desiring to walk in the grace of God. And I know that to be true. Nonetheless, on occasion, he would abuse a young boy. Afterwards he would repent, and when the action came before the elders, earlier at Shiloh, and now at Evergreen, he would express great remorse and desire to find the grace of God.

Surely the power of God in us for redemption is greater than any action of weakness. Indeed I teach, with the writer of Hebrews, that we walk in “no consciousness of sins.”
The problem inside this unbalanced way of thinking goes in two directions. First, if Christ is living as this brother, regardless of his momentary evil actions, why can’t he continue inside the grace and kindness of God from within a jail cell, just as much? 

That is the lesser question, however. The far greater question is – what about the little boy? When justice is denied such a one, the only result is an increase in the internal abuse, a ripping apart that cannot ever be healed in this present season.

You see, a little one, having experienced such abuse, feels that somehow, this was his fault. When the adults in his life, those who claim to be protecting him as his covering, do nothing about it, that sense that “this is my fault” goes far deeper and becomes permanent.

Indeed, the action of continued injustice against that little boy by those who should protect him, then becomes equal to the original wickedness.

You CANNOT hurt people. And you CANNOT allow such a one to remain. If the law requires it, then the law must run its course, for that is the only place that grace can be real.

It was only a short while later that our friends heard the rumor that their own boy was “next.” They did the only right thing they could do. They packed their bags immediately and went to Fort St. John, leaving the community and the move.

In the end, all that Brother John and Brother Bill accomplished was to add their ignorant fervor to the same abuse.

But let me bring in my own moment of “rebellion” into this same picture. The agony inside of me was growing, without resolution. And the primary reason for it is coming up in the section titled “Disrespect.” Yet through all this time, regardless of the maturity and grace in which I moved, I still felt, every day, that sense that we had “come to the wrong place.” In my distress, I came up with the idea of a move to the Lubbock Community. I shared this with John and Nathel. 

Shortly after, in the elder’s gathering, both Brother John and Sister Charity expressed, in cryptic ways, that God was “not having His way.” The meaning was clear to me, that I was “on the precipice of rebellion and departure from God.”

I was incapable of taking the thought any further, and so returned to a greater confusion.

My Summer Work & Experiences 
All of these issues are arising during the ongoing course of my days, and so I will turn here to the layout of my life through this summer.

In May, William had also indicated a retreat from his oversight of the Blueberry gardens. In the elder’s meeting, Sister Charity expressed her concern for the gardens, for they were no longer producing enough food for the family. There were many reasons for that, and not all of them were known. In fact, the garden production was falling way short.

I love to garden. And so I volunteered to become the oversight of the gardens. The elders agreed. Through this entire growing season of 1996, I was in charge of the Blueberry gardens, a fairly large enterprise.

Working with me were Michael Kuntz, Deborah Austin, Judy Patterson, who was in charge of the greenhouses, and a girl from England. When the work required, many others helped out for short times.

Katie Bracken returned to Blueberry from Detroit Lakes this summer again and spent more than two months with us before her return to Oregon. At the same time, her sister, Nancy Cheney, came up with their family to visit us at Blueberry. I remember working with them in the gardens harvesting peas. After they returned to Oregon, the Chaney’s eventually connected with the move fellowship and small community near Kalispell, Montana. They lived there for several years as part of that fellowship. While the Chaney’s were at Blueberry, Nancy introduced us to the world of essential oils and the Young Living company, a quality we have enjoyed since. 

Working in the gardens was a wonderful “aside” for me, where I could find some peace inside the turmoil of everything else. Nonetheless, Michael and I took seriously Sister Charity’s expressed concern and devoted our hearts and much discussion to understanding the Blueberry gardens, to discovering why the production was much less than it had been in the past, and to come up with some possible good solutions to the problem.

We soon discovered that part of the problem with the gardens was a pervasive attitude in the elders and in many of the family at large that elevated the field work as superior to the gardens. Blueberry was big on farm production and vast acreages and a much larger crew of men were devoted to the production of grain and hay. Most investment money for big equipment went their way, with the garden receiving only a little bit. In fact, we did not have access to a tractor, even though the gardens occupied many acres of ground. If we needed tractor work, one of the young men who worked the fields came in and did it his way, with no regard for our needs.

Reality was clear, however. The entire production and all the income of money from the sale of grain and cattle was only enough to pay for the ongoing expenses of those two parts of the community work. We ate little of the beef from the cattle lot and none of the grain from the fields. All of that had to be sold in order to pay for next year’s work. Only in one way was there benefit, and that was the training of many of the young men in the community.

For all practical purposes, the fields and the cattle program were little more than a fetish. When the issue was brought up in the elder’s meeting (by me, I think), the only response was that God had spoken to us to do these things and that if we stopped doing them, we would be disobeying God. Meanwhile, the garden program that existed solely to feed the family limped along with inadequate support.

I will not bring in any further garden experiences, nor of the practical discussions in which Michael and I engaged and the conclusions we came up with, except to share the ending of this particular sad saga in my life. Indeed, I am remembering so many different things, but I must limit myself only to the more important. And so, before arriving at the gardening “conclusion,” I want to share some other experiences through this summer.

First, the little cabin in which Maureen and I lived had limited plumbing facilities, mostly just a couple of drains. We purchased a twelve-volt pump, run on a battery charged by the community generator which was run only during the day. In order to have piped water to the kitchen and bathroom, however, I took on the job of tunneling in the soft sand under our house. I dug a hole on the back side of the cabin and then proceeded horizontally, carving out the sand and carrying it out to a pile behind the house. 

It was actually a pleasant job, lying on my side in the sand in the cool under the house. But one day, as I paused in my work for a breather, I was just minding my own business, thinking my own thoughts. In that moment, words came out of the heavens, and I knew it was God speaking to me. The words were, “Son, you have a sectarian heart.”

This caught me completely by surprise, for such a concept was not an issue inside my present life experiences. Yet as I lay there in the sand, wondering, my time back in Oregon came afresh to me. I looked at my attitude of “movism” in my responses to many, and I could see clearly. I replied to God, “Yes, Father, I see that You are right.”

This seemed to be a little thing at the time, but I am discovering just how BIG those little things from God have been in the intentions of God through me. This issue will grow and become a factor in our decision to leave move community. Yet it has continued to grow, and out from those few words from God has come my continual expression of receiving into our care all who believe in Jesus all across this earth, regardless, sharing our Savior’s heart with Him. 

In fact, I could see at that time that God’s concern came right out of that agreement I had made with Him, on that wooded hillside in Oregon, during the Thanksgiving season of 1994, that He would prepare me for His entire church.

We have many pictures of Kyle and Johanna playing outside in the yard in front of our house. Kyle turned five that summer, making Jo now two-and-a-half. It is important to note that they had a happy childhood, filled with joy and good experiences. 

I continued on occasion to caretake the North Star logging camp during times when the men were at home. This summer they were logging on the slopes overlooking one side of the Blair Valley, several miles north of the community. There was no road connection from the logging camp to Blair Valley, however. My only task was to make sure everything in the large camp was okay. I stayed in one of the bunk buildings and cooked my meals out of the plenteous supplies in the freezers and pantries.

I enjoyed this task, and it provided some income for us. I was alone some of the days, but on two different occasions, Maureen and the children came up to join me. We had a great family time together hiking and exploring in the logging areas.

Then, sometime in mid-summer, Brother Gary Rehmeier asked me to stop by his house because he needed to talk to me. He would be along in a little while. So I sat and waited for him in his North Star office in the wing added to the front of their home. When Gary arrived, he said to me, “I have heard that you are not meeting your obligations in the gardens, that you are often not showing up. I had been planning on chastising you, but on my way here, I passed Michael and Deborah and asked them. They told me that they knew nothing of that, that you were always there working with them. (You see, the gardens were scattered over a large area and when I was working in one, it seemed to some in other gardens that I was “not around.”)

Then Gary said, “You should be grateful that I passed them on the way, or else you would have been in trouble.”

I was indeed grateful that I was not, once again, “raked over the coals” with no opportunity to present another side of things. Nonetheless, my thought was, “No Gary, you are the one who should be grateful that you did not sin against me with false accusation.” I would never say such a thing, for it is disrespect. I am not moved to disrespect others, even if they are disrespecting me.

Finally, later in that season, maybe in September, I asked for the opportunity to share with the eldership some of the things Michael and I had learned in why the gardens were not producing well and some of our thoughts as to how we could resolve those problems.

I had not spoken long before one of the sisters interrupted me. “I don’t remember anyone asking you to make any changes in the gardens,” she said.

I was absolutely stunned and had no words to reply. Had Michael and I not  carried the concern expressed by Sister Charity in our hearts for the prior four months. And was there no interest towards the hearts of two brothers in the community who had carried the needs of the family before God in seeking His answers for us?

I do not have the gift of words in such situations. And so it passed, and nothing came of the things to which Michael and I had devoted ourselves for months.

Issue Five: Disrespect
The issues I have shared thus far were little more than a background hum. Through the rest of this letter, I will share the real dilemma in which I was caught. 

Previously I mentioned concerning coming home from the elders' meetings without understanding what was bothering me, and sitting there rocking back and forth for nearly an hour each time before I could go to bed. For the first few months I did not know why I felt like that. I did find it shocking, however, to be part of discussions of people’s private concerns and of our making decisions that rightfully belonged only to them. In the way I am made, such a thing is immoral. Yet this was the practice of all eldering in the move from the start. I could not reconcile my sense of wrongness with the respect in which I held these brothers and sisters with whom I now sat.

Sometime around the beginning of the summer an incident occurred that first began to clue me in on what it was that was really bothering me. 

Prior to the start of another regular elders' meeting, several of us had gathered, but not yet all. In fact, Sister Charity was still in the school and had not yet come. The few that were together included Sister Nathel. Two college-age sisters in the community stopped by and asked about gathering in one of the homes for a time of praise while we were in the elder’s meeting. You see, the elders had earlier established an order that during the elder’s meeting, when no elders were out among the people, all who were not elders should remain in their own homes. The idea was to make sure that no fleshiness would break out while elders were absent. 

To Sister Nathel and to me, this sounded like a wonderful and reasonable request, and so we gave our permission to the sisters to do just that. A few minutes later, however, Sister Charity came in. We shared with her what we had decided.

“No,” she said. “That is not allowed. The only reason they want to do it is fleshy rebellion.” 

To my amazement, I saw a shadow of great discouragement come across Sister Nathel’s face. We submitted, however, and sent word to the sisters to tell them that our decision had been revoked, that they all needed to stay at home. Nonetheless, I knew that Sister Charity’s pronouncement against these two sisters was untrue.

I was gaining a first understanding of some of the real psychology operating under the sometimes blank pronouncement of “hearing from God.” From that time, I began slowly to understand what was really bothering me. Now, this thing is huge in God’s path for me, and so I must develop it fully. At the same time, what I share now comes from pondering these things over many years. I knew then what I now understand clearly, but mostly in my gut, and only a little in my rational understanding.

In all the communities in which I had lived, there had been an undercurrent sense among those who were not elders, an “us versus them,” with “us” being the non-elders and “them” being the elders, as in “why did they make that decision regarding us.” This was always understood to be a part of the “rebellion of the flesh.” Nonetheless, there is no escaping such an underlying pattern of thinking when a hierarchy of “authority” operates as the order of any group.

I had learned, over the years, not only to accept brethren who saw things differently than I, but to value those differences. My regard for Brian, for instance, had only grown. In fact, Brian had come to the end of his move community journey through this time. I will not bring in his story, however, except that he left Blueberry in grief. We touched hearts briefly, as he was leaving, and knew that we cared for and respected each other.

It took me a few months, however, of listening to the elder’s conversations, and how they framed their words, slowly to realize that the “us versus them” did not come from the non-elders in the community, but from the elders.

As I said, I had grown to love and respect the non-elders in the community equally with the elders, seeing Christ as them. We had worked together, laughed together, wept together, and worshipped God together for years. To hear these same precious people spoken of as “fleshy” and “rebellious,” was just wrong, contrary to everything we had learned from God.

I am not making this up, however, for as time went on, I heard it stated clearly that we elders are elders because we are anointed of God and walk in the Spirit. We are the true firstfruits. All “those others” who are not elders are not elders because they don’t walk in the Spirit, but in the flesh. They will never be firstfruits because they are always fleshy and rebellious. Rather, they are our cross that God has chosen to give to us that we might be perfected by bearing with their fleshy rebellion. And yes, I heard these very things expressed over time.

A proposal was made that we should have a communion service, like the one we had enjoyed together several years earlier. Sister Delores and others were opposed to such a thing, however, because the college students, especially, were “fleshy and rebellious,” and having a communion service with “such sinfulness in our midst” would “offend a holy God.”

In this and other discussions I heard the expression of a profound belief that the responsibility for the kingdom rests upon “our shoulders.” And that righteousness (whatever that means) in the church was entirely our responsibility, that God would depart from Blueberry if we did not keep these fleshy non-elders firmly inside God’s order and holiness.

The wife of one of the elders, who herself was not an elder, had expressed an interest in attending some Spirit-filled services in Fort St. John, given by a ministry not in the move. The elder husband hoped that another one of the elders could steer his wife away from such a thing. I had a good relationship with this sister, and so I volunteered to speak to her.

I did so, sharing gently with her that we should not be seeking any word outside of what the move ministry was giving us, for such a thing always leads to “leaving the move.” I think she was moved by my tender regard and agreed to drop that interest. I went away feeling awful and ashamed, however, for what I had done as an “elder” was more than the good practice of sharing wisdom, but rather, fully inside the box of “control.” In fact, I think that it was shortly after this experience that I heard God say, “Son, you have a sectarian heart.”

As time went on, I began to perceive a definition of what “being an elder” meant that was very different from anything I had known. It was expressed in one small way or another, that I would have to perform well in this way, in walking in the Spirit myself and in keeping the fleshiness of the non-elders under control. I would have to take on a persona and an action that simply was not inside of me. By September and October, this contention had become a great tearing inside, for I was realizing that I would be set in as an elder only if I learned to be and to practice something I was not. In order to be an elder, I would have to pretend in a manner that was far beyond my abilities.

Nonetheless, in spite of saying all this, I do not want you to imagine that there was not also much love and care, wisdom and giving expressed at all times through each of the elders. God’s people are always a mixed bag, including you and me. We do not cast anyone as “false” simply because they err as humans, for otherwise we condemn ourselves. 

Issue Six: Managing the Work
I must now set out that story-line in which the great proving of God came for me. By the beginning of June, with the collapse of the Pure Seed Company, the men elders gathered to discuss how the work of the community could be better ordered. In fact, it was Wes Shaw who carried this concern the most and who put all this together.

And I will say this about Brother Wes. As non-elders, we had always carried a dim view of Wes Shaw and wondered why he was an elder, for he often seemed to be serving himself at the expense of others. As I sat next to him inside the elder’s meetings, I realized that there was a side to Wes that those who were not elders rarely saw. I saw, at times, the expressions of a good heart and began to appreciate walking together with him.

And so, by Wes’s incentive, we gathered together as men elders in Brother Gary’s North Star office to discuss a new approach to the community work for the men. Brother John Clarke was at home and thus able to be a part of this discussion. Our hope was to make everything fit together, both the ongoing plans for the potato business, as well as a number of other business ideas, along with all the ongoing work of fields and cattle, gardens and construction.

Our plan was that each one of us as elders would take on a different role. Yet we also included a place for a number of men who were not elders, including those who had been recognized as deacons, an office that had little practical meaning. Wes Shaw agreed to be responsible for all the sales and interaction with the public for various community endeavors. Brother John Clarke agreed to meet with the group of men who were not elders in order to shepherd them in their discussions and decisions. I agreed to take on the educational side of things, to create ways in which the education of college and high school students could fit better into the overall community work. Others agreed to take on different specific roles.

The biggest issue, however, was the practical management of the regular work of the community, including construction, maintenance, and firewood. We needed someone hands on, and with Don Howat not here, none of the elders fitted that ability. John Clarke even suggested that we persuade the Howat’s to return so that Don could take on that role. Meanwhile, I had taking a firm stand against my being fitted back into the construction part of the work.

We finally decided that Randy Jordan would be the man for this central management task. Bill Vanderhorst agreed to be Randy’s covering and sounding board as the work manager. So we called Randy into the men elder’s meeting and shared with him the role we hoped he would agree to take. But Randy was cynical, and he expressed his concerns. He shared that we had attempted similar things in the past and then the elders had not engaged as they had promised and he and others had been left “holding the bag” so to speak, and had received the blame for the ensuing failure of the “great new plan.”

Different ones assured Randy that this would not happen this time. He agreed to consider it.

When Randy left, however, some expressed “concern” for Randy, that he was being grumpy because things didn’t go his way. They were speaking of a “Randy Jordan” I had not known.

Randy agreed, and so our new management system for the community work went into play. And, in fact, Wes Shaw’s heart to make this plan work was strong and essential for any ultimate success. EXCEPT, Wes then expressed the need to go to New England for several weeks. We did state in the main elder’s meeting how important his presence at home was to this endeavor, but he insisted. Because he was an elder, it was just assumed that he was “hearing from God,” and so we agreed and away he went.

I was astonished, because I had known many times when non-elders, including myself, had to change their plans, even to personal loss, in order to fit the needs of the community. More than that, Brother John Clarke had cancelled his normal involvement with traveling around the world with the father ministry of the move to all the far-flung groups, so that he might devote himself to this particular community need this summer.

To make a long story short, however, the only elder among us who did any part of what we had committed ourselves to do was Bill Vanderhorst, in working with Randy. It’s not that anything “unraveled,” for no other part of our plan happened except that part laid upon Randy, just as he had known.

This, then, is the context in which God intended to prove Christ in me.

I Will Not Speak Against
My distress only increased. Something I must add about the autistic pain is that I am also compelled to hide it from others. I now know that is also part of Asperger’s. 

One time, before I was married, I was walking up the hill at Blueberry, with my coat drawn tightly around me, hunched over, with the pain written all over my face. Don Howat appeared out of nowhere and saw my face. “Daniel, are you okay?” he said. But the moment I saw him, I replaced the pain with a different face, “I’m fine,” I replied.

This is different from the pretending of a false story of self. Rather, as an Asperger’s man, it was impossible for me to have someone see that pain and think that there was something terribly wrong with me. I could bear the pain, for I walked with God in grace. What I could not bear was being treated with condescension, for I was powerless in the face of such a thing.

The difficulty I was feeling inside had begun to weigh heavily on my relationship with Maureen and the children, that is, Maureen had become quite distressed by my emotional absence from them. In early September, I found a note on the headboard of our bed one day in which she said that she could not continue with me unless something changed. There is nothing more awful to me than the thought of losing my dear wife and children.

I went to counsel with Gary Rehmeier concerning the note. When he had read it, I said, “I am a broken man, Brother Gary.” 

“No you are not,” he replied. He went on to explain to me that we cannot know ourselves, that only others who are anointed of God can know what we are. “You are the proudest man I have ever known,” he said.

I was too numb inside at that point for his words to cause further harm. Nonetheless, I walked away from his house with no hope and no word of Christ towards me. I apologized to Maureen and wept. Maureen shares with me now that her heart was turned back to me. I wonder, very often, why this wonderful woman continues to love me, for I know I don’t deserve it. Yet I am so very grateful that she does.

Nonetheless, the proving of Christ in me would be found primarily in my heart attitude towards Brother John Clarke. I had watched him move in such wisdom and gracious anointing over the years. I had seen his expressed care for people. I had gained so much from the word that he shared, including times of great laughter. I had watched him submit to the decisions and concerns of others; I knew of the great personal losses he endured for the sake of God’s people. 

The truth is, I could also say the same things about Sister Charity Titus and my words would stand all tests of proving. 

Over the months, as I continued to ponder the psychology operating inside the elder’s gathering and the question of “what do they mean when they say, ‘hear from God,’” I could see that the other elders bent their thinking to the influence of Brother John Clarke, Sister Charity, and Brother Gary. I could see the result, not of “hearing from God,” but of defining “hearing from God” as being, “what would Brother John or Sister Charity or Brother Gary say.”

I have realized since that ultimately it was not three, but rather Sister Charity, who, as I know now, was simply the most controlling person I have known. Her “control” was always benign, always with a true heart for others, always for their sake. Yet I have known few people who believed more thoroughly that “God with us” meant her keeping tabs on what everyone in the community was thinking and doing. I don’t know of any direct personal harm that went from her to anyone, especially not to me. She believed that she was fulfilling God’s purposes and moved only out from faith. Nonetheless, it was Sister Charity who was “in control.”

I am saying this very carefully because, in spite of these things, I know that both Brother John and Sister Charity, who both have since passed on, loved Jesus and God’s people, and gave themselves utterly for our sake with true hearts.

After Wes Shaw had returned to Blueberry later that summer, the men who were not elders, who had been gathering together as we had set out, had come up with some thoughts, which Wes then shared in the elder’s meeting. But what they had thought up was not well received. Brother John Clarke said to him, “Who are these guys you’re talking about?” 

I watched Wes carefully fit his words to a full respect for Brother John. “Oh, just some of the brethren who were talking about various needs.” I was fully aware in that moment that a direct answer would have been, “That group of men, Brother John, that you stayed home this summer for the sole purpose of shepherding them in their meetings.” Such a thing could be said, but only in private and in all graciousness and honor. That was not an ability given to me, however, and most who would give answer directly would be following Korah’s example.

Then, sometime in August, Randy grew discouraged with trying to carry responsibility for all the work with little support. A few of us were gathered in the outer office in the school discussing the situation. It was John Clarke, Wes Shaw, Dave Smillie, and myself. During this discussion, John Clarke, along with the other two, expressed a discouragement that included the belief that the primary fault of the difficulty lay with Randy.

I am very often an observer, rather than a participatant, in situations such as this. It was clear to me that most of the blame lay upon Wes Shaw and John Clarke and that the only thing Randy deserved was a deep apology followed by meaningful gratitude. Yet, in spite of being a somewhat analytical “observer,” I did not rationalize my own response. Rather, what I did came out of the depths of who I am, out of Christ Jesus living as me. I regarded no blame or censure against Brother John in my heart. I imagined no words of “correction” or any such mindless folly. 

The words of these men caused me only pain and sorrow, but I regarded nothing against them or against myself. Instead, I allowed God to be God, regardless. I allowed God to be God in Brother John, in Wes Shaw, in Dave Smillie, in Randy Jordan, and in myself. That does not mean, however, that my deep sorrow did not increase, for that, also, is the travail and proving of Christ.

Issue Seven: The Final Straw
In September, after the Shepherd’s Inn convention, Brother Buddy Cobb gave a series of teachings for elders. Elder’s spouses could also attend, and so Maureen went with me. There were always good things to be learned from Brother Buddy, but at the same time, it remained the same exhortation that if we didn’t “get it right” we were “in trouble with God.” 

Through the first of October, Maureen and I went again to Blair Valley to spend several days with them. Rick and Shirley Annett were rebuilding a house they had chosen, which was situated not far from Kars and Minnie. Maureen spent her time working with Shirley, Connie, and Minnie. I spent my time working with Rick; we were able to move the project well along, including installing some large double-pane windows I had brought over from Blueberry. They would have a lovely view out of their dining area towards the woods. 

When we returned to Blueberry, the topic of discussion was our now glaring need for food. In spite of all the care and effort we had put into the gardens that year, they had produced more poorly than ever. And, of all things, we were running out of potatoes available for eating before the winter had hardly started. 

We discussed purchasing several tons of potatoes just for the family which we would put into the old root cellar in the community. As I thought about the problems with that old root cellar, I realized that it would be foolish to buy the eight tons we needed only to have half of them rot and thus have to replace them with another purchase of four tons in March or April. That approach would still mean two trips to Edmonton for potatoes.
 
On October 14 or 15, some of the men elders and some of the men deacons were getting together to discuss a solution to our potato problem. I shared my thoughts first with Randy, and he agreed with me fully. I do not remember all who were in this meeting, but there were more than Randy, Wes Shaw, Dave Smillie, and myself.

In the discussion, Wes Shaw stated that we should get all eight tons now. Randy suggested that half would rot, and thus, that we should purchase only half now and the other half in the early spring. Wes objected, saying, “No, that’s not a good idea.” I then spoke in agreement with Randy, for it was my thoughts he was presenting.

Not long after that, Wes Shaw and Dave Smillie cornered me in the dining room after a meal, wanting to talk with me. I sat down opposite them at one of the tables. Wes took the lead, with Dave Smillie giving full support to him in his facial expressions.

There was an unnatural fervor in Wes’s face and eyes as he spoke to me. He rebuked me for siding with a non-elder against an elder in any discussion. Brother Dave’s face expressed full agreement. Wes said to me, “I love the family far more than Randy can, that’s why I am an elder.” The implication was clear, by agreeing with Randy, I was joining his “lack of love.”

I was registering Wes’s words, but they were simply moving on by me. This was another of those few times when I looked straight into someone’s eyes. To me, knowing what I knew, I saw only a religious madness dancing in those eyes.

I went straight home and told Maureen, “Honey, we must leave.” 

That evening, I shared with the elders that my family and I would be leaving Blueberry. Brother Gary said, “We do not understand, Daniel.” “Neither do I,” I replied.

In order to have some finances, I took on another five days of watching the North Star camp. The announcement of our leaving was made to the family while I was at the camp. Different ones came to help Maureen pack our stuff. Then, I picked up Maureen and the children and they spent the last two days at the camp with me.

It was a few more days of packing our stuff, then, and getting our little Ford Escort worked on. It was four of us in our little car, including a car seat for Johanna in the back. We loaded what we could into the trunk and in-between spaces. I made sure there was a spot for my large electronic typewriter.

We did not know where we were going, but I could no longer stay in a place where I did not belong and among people with whom I could not agree. Most of our stuff we simply left in our little cabin, along with our blue van in the parking lot. I told the elders that I would return in a few weeks to deal with our things.

The next morning, Tuesday, October 22, we went to the morning devotions. The elder’s were meeting, so none of them were there. They had asked Philip Bridge to lead the devotions. He gathered all the family around us, and they prayed for us with great blessing and encouragement.

By noon, we drove out the road to the Alaska Highway; Blueberry was finally behind us. I was almost 40 years old. 

I could not pretend to be something I was not. I could not be an elder. I had failed.

What I Did and Do
There is something in the human heart that runs far deeper than addressing wrongfulness or bringing justice. Deeper than all human action, there is the bottom line of – what about God?

In all things, is God just and true? Or has He, somehow, abandoned His claim that He directs our steps and that He is with us always? And if God has “failed,” do we then take matters into our own hands, setting forth our own limited and selfish judgments, practicing the very same hurt against others for which we are accusing them?

Justify God in all things and find Him right and true. For it is only when we place ourselves only inside of a God who is good all the time that true justice could proceed from our hearts. 

I have believed this and walked in this all my adult life, regardless of all my agony.
I must address my brief experiences with Gary Rehmeier and Wes Shaw. Gary, of course, knew only himself, for that is all we can know. He knew nothing of me because he never asked. He saw only my autistic pain and the shell I had erected to cover that pain, and he judged what he saw by his own knowledge of himself. 

Yet I have always highly regarded Gary, who has since passed on, and received much good in the Lord from him both as an elder and as a person. More than that, I recognize the love of God poured out in his heart towards me. And I did not and do not judge him falsely in return.

If one had taken a poll of the Blueberry family as to who expressed the love of God in caring for others more, I have no doubt that Randy’s score would have rated high and Wes’s low. We had walked with the man for years and had seen him so often assert himself over us for his own benefit.

But Wes was so full of his own untrue story of self that he was unable to comprehend that what he said to me was a lie. Had he been by himself, that would have been bad enough, but Dave Smillie’s full support made me know that this same self-exalting madness had become the self-story, to a greater or lesser degree, of many of those gathered in that elder’s meeting.

Yet I know that inside of Wes there was indeed a true and good heart.

And so, with all my heart, I receive Gary and Wes, and all those involved in our lives during this difficult time, as the Lord Jesus Himself. I place the determination of God towards me upon my every moment through this season of shattering. 

I justify God and find Him right and true in all things. God is good, all the time. All of His ways concerning me are perfect. He has never led me wrong; He has never not led me. 

I am not a victim. I place the Lord Jesus Christ upon every moment of my life with the full awareness that in every moment, I walked with God, no matter what I felt or knew.

I am a redeemer together with the Lord Jesus Christ, and we together seek and save all that is lost. Forgiveness is not towards those who made us happy but towards those who did us wrong. Yet, with Father, I go way beyond forgiveness.

God was in Christ, reconciling the world to Himself, not imputing their trespasses to them (2 Corinthians 5). No one ever did more wicked action-against than the Pharisees who conspired to put Jesus on the cross and who then stood there mocking Him. But Jesus, in spite of His very human agony, was no victim; rather, He was the expression of God’s Heart. And the sword of His mouth cut through all those wicked actions with “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.”

I know many who have passed through similar difficulties and worse, who know only how to be victims, thus making themselves the same as the ones who did them wrong. I do not make light of anyone’s pain, for it is real and it is awful. And God requires all justice for every single moment of hurt. But I place myself as an example of Christ before you; MAKE those who hurt you so badly to be your best friends forever by the power of redemption that is God through you.

By this we have known love, because He laid down His life for us; and we also are committed to laying down our lives for our brothers and sisters. – Receive one another in just the same way that God inside of Christ received you.

As God has received you, imputing just innocence to you in all things, so you receive each one who offended you, imputing the just innocence of God to them.

This is the Salvation of God.

My Brethren
It would be wrong of me if I did not leave you with a full picture of what these brothers and sisters, whom I observed and with whom I participated inside this gathering of elders, meant to me.

Brother John Clarke was as a father to many, the best kind of father. He was the greatest example in my life of leading by wisdom and by deferring to others. He was always gentle and kind. John Clarke cared about people. 

Sister Nathel Clarke was an intercessor. She and Brother John prayed for all those God had given to their care constantly across their many miles of travel. When she sat across from Maureen and me and asked for our forgiveness, I saw a true woman who cared more for us than for herself.

Sister Charity Titus took me under her wing through all the years I lived at Blueberry. She was a mother to me and the wisest and most influential teacher I have ever sat under. She cared about everyone in the community, that all would be safe and loved. She cared about God, that His presence would be known in our every gathering together.

I know that even now Sister Charity has joined with my mother in continued watchcare and prayer over me.

Sister Sue Sampson always encouraged me with blessing. She always supported me and made sure I had what I needed in all my work. She was an example to me of joy and confidence in God.

Brother Gary Rehmeier was a man of strength and exuberance. I always admired him; I always enjoyed it when he led the congregation in enthusiasm. Brother Gary sacrificed his life for the sake of the community, that we would be provided for.

Brother Alvin Roes was a man of much prayer and faithfulness to God. I have rarely known one of such quiet and earnest commitment. Yet he always had this unexpected way of making everyone laugh. When I think of Brother Alvin, I think of the same dedication to God by his example inside of me.

Brother John Austin was an example of earnest giving to all of us. He poured himself out, his strength and all his resources, for the sake of the Blueberry family, always. There was never a time, never a difficulty, never a cost, where Brother John was not right there, ready and willing to meet someone's need.

Sister Delores Topliff included me in her heart in spite of all my prickliness. She always treated me with kindness. She made sure to thank me for constructing her new home. I can trace much of the solidness of my English- teaching ability to Sister Delores as my teacher over many years. 

I have mentioned those who were the most influential in my life. Yet all who were elders at Blueberry blessed Maureen and me with the goodness of Jesus through all our years in that fellowship. 

I regret nothing. I value every relationship. I value every gift given to me by these elders who gave their lives that I might know the living God.

I am a wealthy, wealthy man.