Posts tagged Bible


Just the other day I heard the words again…

“I want to read my Bible every day, I really do, but I’m just not disciplined…”

And this from a woman who works out and eats healthy and keeps her multi-tasking life in incredible order and her relationships in tack.

Not disciplined?

I don’t think so.

In fact, I think this highly disciplined woman, who wishes she was more consistent about poking her nose in the Word every day, is believing a lie about herself.

And she’s not alone. I hear it all the time.

I wish… but I don’t… because I’m undisciplined…

Discipline is not the problem.

Desire is!

And the reason the desire isn’t there is not because she’s bad or unspiritual or less-than-what-she-ought-to-be.

It’s because she doesn’t know what she’s missing.

Because if she had any idea how rich and full and satisfying— how need meeting and spirit-lifting this treasure filled time is— she’d never miss it.

And neither would you.

For the first decade or so of my spiritual journey of following after Jesus, I tried to discipline myself to read my Bible. And most of the time I was able to do it.

After all, Phil had led me that way from the beginning of our relationship. Every morning of our marriage I saw my husband get up in time to open the Word and spend anywhere from a few minutes to the better part of an hour systematically working his way from Genesis to Revelation.

But, frankly, I dreaded that discipline. It felt like getting up early to do homework. Not fun. Boring. Work.

Every once in a while something from the words I read reached out and grabbed my mind. But usually it was another’s words, some sort of devotional guide that spoke the loudest. I learned, yes, but I was far from thrilled with the process.

It wasn’t until I fell flat on my face in failure that the Word of God began to come alive for me. Faced with a shattered good-girl image, I became desperate for something more. Desperate to hear God speak to my failure, to show me how to live, what to do, how to sort through my unmanageable feelings.

Kind of like Job:

I had heard about You before,

But now I have seen You with my own eyes.

Job 42:5


And David:

I used to wander off

Until You disciplined me;

But now I closely follow Your word.

Psalm 119:67

And so my dear, disciplined friends, maybe what we really ought to be praying for is more desire. Asking God to wake us up every morning with the anticipation of a child at Christmas. Expecting God to speak to us, to feed us, to refresh and revive us.

Maybe we should pray that God will bring us to that place of desire as He did David. “ I desire You more than anything on earth.” (Ps, 73:25)

From my heart,


repost, Oct. 2013 




Hello! Welcome to our newly redecorated and reorganized site at He Speaks In The Silence.

I hope you will take some time to meander through the blog and see what we’ve been up to. We will still be making some changes here and there over the next few weeks and I’ll be adding pictures and descriptions of my family as well as the team who make this blog happen.

We will be offering fresh posts nearly every day.

On Mondays I will continue the series of Letters To My Son. I just can’t seem to find enough space to tell him all I want him to know about choosing and pursuing a woman to be his wife someday.

Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday will be spillovers from my own time of listening to God early in the morning with my Bible as my guide. These will be short, in the moment Glimpses straight from the Scriptures.

Friday is Elizabeth’s day in The Kitchen to bring you fresh, wholesome recipes and ideas to try on your own. We’ll also occasionally feature women who have elevated the tasks involved in making a home into art and beauty.

Every Saturday we’ll be posting from a Bible Study I wrote and taught on the story of Ruth. We’ve formatted it to be used either all alone, curled up in your favorite chair, or with your best friends gathered close and a few others added in.

On Sundays we’ll be featuring a favorite Scripture or two. I’m going through my marked up Bible and giving you some of the verses and phrases and simple truths that have caught my heart and changed the way I think.

And that’s our week!

It is my hope that this will be a place of encouragement and instruction.

That in reading these words and entering my world you will become captivated by Jesus. That you will see how He works and hear how He speaks. And that by knowing how He has helped and taught me, you will want more Him.

May I suggest that you subscribe to have fresh posts delivered straight to your inbox? I’d love to ask questions from time to time of those on our email list, just be sure I’m writing about the things that concern you.

I am humbled and so very grateful to be a part of your life.

From my heart,



MOMMY TO DO LIST: by michele fordice

Not long ago, my friend Michele Fordice left a comment after a blog post about prayer.

Michele is right in the thick of raising and teaching and training two young leaders while she consistently pours herself into supporting and encouraging and helping with her husband’s ministry and vision.

And all the other stuff that happens in real life.

So when Michele makes her list it’s a long one. Full days, never enough done, and without the immediate satisfaction of lots of crossed off tasks.

You know about that?

And Michele has figured something out along the way— something we all need to stop and ponder. I’ve asked her to tell her story so we can grasp this truth along with her.

And maybe, for once, we won’t have to get learn the hard way…

From my heart,


MOMMY TO DO LIST: by michele fordice

This year I am attempting to read the Bible through chronologically.  Having had to take LONG detour through Job, I am still on Gen. 15.  Technically, I am still in week 1 of the year.  Ha!  So…I will finish just maybe in about three years!

Genesis 12 v 1-2 starts out with Abraham’s glorious calling and a promise from God.  I can’t help but romanticize it a bit.

God clearly spoke to Abraham.  Haven’t you at times just longed for an encounter with the living God to speak so clear and boldly?

God said, “Leave your country, your people and your father’s household and go to the land I will show you.”

In response, “I (the Lord) will make you into a great nation, and I will bless you; I will make your name great, and you will be a blessing.  I will bless those who bless you, and whoever curses you I will curse; and all the peoples on earth will be blessed through you.”

God’s call on Abraham’s life was clear and so was God’s blessing.

Are you waiting to hear your “calling”?  Doesn’t this picture seem a bit romantic to you?

So easy?

So clear?

I remember back in the day… I know, I sound a bit old.  Jay and I were dating long distance; I was finishing school in southern California but when he’d visit we’d frequent Disneyland.  My favorite part was visiting Tarzan’s tree house.  Hand in hand, we’d stroll through Tarzan’s tree house.  I’d dream about our life on the mission field together, sharing the Good News of Jesus, having babies and living a long happy life in the Amazon Jungle.

I know, dreamy.  Right?  Maybe it was my innocent youth coming out, or the dreaminess of Disneyland and the princess stories of love and living happily ever after.

Or maybe he designed me with an innate purpose and calling.

I can tell you that I did marry my love.  We do have two adorable boys. And we are on mission.

Our surroundings aren’t so junglesk though. When I look around, I am thankful for two healthy births, a home that is filled with laughter and electricity, and a life that is filled with adventure.

The adventure begins every morning.  Every morning that I decided to die to self or live for my self.

I can tell you that I have chosen both.

I have chosen the way of Jesus.

AND, I have chosen my own way.

When I am irritated by the fact that I can’t eat a simple meal without getting up four times to refill water, get someone a napkin, a fork, a second helping….

When I am frustrated in the morning because I can’t take 15 minutes of uninterrupted time to be in the Word…

When I want to fly off the handle because my eldest son won’t stop asking me the same question over…and over… oh, and one more time because he didn’t like my original answer…

When I leave an event expecting to be filled, blessed instead of BEING a blessing for others…

When I can’t seem to muster up the ability to find it in my heart to forgive a family member that has wronged me… (for the ONE time I am actually not guilty)

When I am so frustrated at the Lord for yet another rainy day…

When I can’t seem to give up on a shattered dream…expecting that I was somehow owed something more from my childhood…

These are the times when I can look back and say, “Yep. Clearly I haven’t chosen to die to myself today.”

Abraham, a man of faith.  A man who clearly heard from the Lord.  Had a calling, a purpose and a blessing.  He too, got distracted.  He took his family to Egypt because of famine in the land…the Land of Promise.  Walked away from God’s plan.  Lied to Pharaoh about his who his gorgeous bride was….

And he too, the Lord showed mercy too.

Later in Genesis 15, God said to Abraham, “Don’t be afraid.  I am your shield, your very great reward.”

God would use Abraham’s family as a light and a witness of God’s ways for generations and generations…leading to the birth of Jesus.

In my own little way, I pray that I can be a light and a witness of God’s ways to my husband, my children, my friends and family.

The other day my husband happened to come across my to-do list while I was away at coffee with a friend.  He text me a message with a picture of my to do list.  He lovingly mocked me and said, “hey, you forgot one thing!”

“Thanks, Babe!  I haven’t quit conquered this one today!”

The truth: it will probably never get crossed off.

And that is the woman I hope to continue to be. Always focused, purposeful with my day.  Yet at any moment, dying to my self…my agenda…my to do list.

Love, Michele

PS.  If you want a good read and a truly beautiful example of a Godly woman choosing Jesus first read, Gladys Aylward with Christine Hunter, The Little Woman.  I can hardly put it down right now…and when I do, it’s to pause because I am in awe of her deep faith in who God is and her bold desire to make HIS name known throughout the villages of war torn China.

When have you had to make a choice to die to your own dreams, desires or plans to say “YES!” to Jesus?  Your story just might give someone else the courage to say yes to Jesus too!

What scripture has the Lord given you to encourage you to die to your self?  What would you share with your sister who wants in on this journey?


These have been powerful pieces of scripture that I have meditated on.  Asking the Lord to help me really understand what it means to die and for him to live in me!  

Galatians 2:20 I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me.  The life I live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.

Phil 1:21 For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain.

Phil 3:10  I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, to attain the resurrection from the dead.


I was 14 the first time I stepped through the doors of a real church. Oh I’d tramped through countless cathedrals in my early years growing up in Europe. Taken tours, listened to lectures about commissioned artistry, admired stained glass windows and plunked my pennies in the locked offering box. And I’d occasionally sat through traditional services under a scratchy straw Easter hat swinging my soon to be hopelessly scuffed white patent leather Mary Jane’s.

But those churches seemed set in a different dimension entirely than the church that drew me in, caught my heart, and, if I may be so bold— saved my life.

Los Gatos Christian Church met in a refurbished warehouse nestled in the hills near my home. With its redwood walls, load bearing beams, and exposed aggregate floors, it looked like no other church I’d ever seen.

And it was packed; wall-to-wall people. And decidedly unchurch-like-loud with the voices of genuinely happy people all shoving past each other to lay claim to a cold metal chair to call their own.

From the moment I walked in those doors I knew I wanted whatever these people had. I wanted in. I wanted to be a part of this, to lay claim to my own seat right in the front row.

And this church, according to the new generation of experts in the know— did it all wrong.

It was, in the derogatory terms that make me cringe, a Big Box church. An attractional model.

And that, in case you didn’t know, is bad— very bad.

Not a small group program in sight.

But for me, what happened every week in that big box felt very much like a massive family reunion. With aunts and uncles and second-cousins-once-removed, and a whole cadre of white haired grandparents who thought I was “so cute, and way too thin, and wouldn’t I love to come for dessert?”

Gosh they loved me well.

I vividly remember one of my first weeks there when a bunch of kids way too cool for this still dorky-recent-expatriate, invited me to tumble into their fleet of teenage cast-off cars and meet at Farrell’s Ice Cream Parlor.

Believe me, no one in my rich suburban high school had ever invited me anywhere in the months since I’d arrived back on American soil. In my brand new J.C. Penny Catalogue clothes (the height of fashion in 1970’s expatriate Europe) I stuck out like a sore thumb— or a geek— or maybe it was a dork back in those days.

But these kids didn’t care. They just swooped me into their happy world and fed me ice cream.

When the pastor of that church strode over to our waitress abusing table and, at the behest of the kids, performed his comedic face shaking, spittle loosening imitation of who-knows-what, I was stunned.

And oh-my-gosh, he wore a suit! No black robe, no choking clerical collar, just the kind of clothes everyone’s dad wore to work every day back then.

And they called him Marvin. Not reverend, not His Holiness, not even Mister.

Nowadays the guy would be lashed in blogs and denigrated in seminars bemoaning his CEO status. This was top down leadership at its peak. But all those leadership faux pas didn’t seem to stop God from using him to change the lives of hundreds— maybe thousands of people.

And me.

Over time I began to learn that the thing that drew these people together and welled up in singing and clapping and laughing and note-taking camaraderie wasn’t a thing at all— but a person.

They told me about Jesus, certain I would want to know. Not in the least bit subtle or seeker friendly.

And I did want to know. And I did want Him. Because if He could create their brand of actual life-giving happiness in me— well, who wouldn’t do anything to have that?

So I signed on, joined up, and started taking notes with everyone else.

Was I genuine? Sincere? Probably not.

Mostly I just wanted to fit in with a fantastic group of new friends. I copied them in every way I could. From the way I held my Bible— a cool new paperback version called The Way— to the sweater I now wore over my skin baring halter-top.

But before long, my craving for these church people’s approval gave way to a craving for more of this Jesus they so obviously loved. And with their help I learned and grew to understand things I’d never known before. I began to change, not just on the outside, but somewhere down deep.

I fell in love with Jesus.

I remember sitting at the end of a dock at a camp called Hume Lake. I’d been roused from my bunk by the sound of each of my friends slipping out into the early morning.  I knew where they were going and felt that subtle pressure to go there to.

It was my first attempt to try this thing they all did called, “a quiet time”.

The words of Matthew drew me in as I underlined, I think, most of the book. I skipped breakfast that day (well, the place was infamous for the glue like oatmeal they served) to power through those words that seemed to come to life.

No wonder most my friends got up at ungodly hours every morning to do “devotions”. I felt my soul fill up as I feasted on the words.

The day I was baptized wearing a funky white robe while every one of my friends and new family swayed to the Old Rugged Cross, was the highlight of my life. I filled that baptistery with salted tears of the purest joy I had ever known.

Just remembering the pastor who taught me… the kids who included me… and all the people who loved me… brings back that rush of well being that comes only rarely in real life.

Why do I love the Church? With all our flaws and failures and inadequacies and ridiculous fads?

Because when I needed what they had—

They gave me Jesus.

From my heart,


P.S. Now to be perfectly honest, that church no longer exists. The building is there, occupied by a different church under new leadership. Los Gatos Christian Church slowly died and was buried. May she rest in peace.

But maybe churches are not meant to live forever. Maybe some die and new life emerges from the fertile soil of a once great church. And maybe this church my husband started with my son— the one my son now leads— maybe we’re one of those emerging churches, different, but so much the same as that place that brought me home.