
10/29/2025
"Our lives should be, according to our Lord's plans,
quiet but steadily flowing streams of blessing,
which through our prayers and intercessions should
reach our whole environment."
Ole Hallesby
Last night, in the evening, I received unexpected news about a beloved friend whom I have not seen for awhile, and it has shattered my world. Since coming home I have received news from my previous home, my home away from home, a place I miss terribly, as I left behind many memories, and I have grieved the passage of time.
As most people know about my life, I moved back home to Virginia in 2021 the end of this October marking my fourth in my parents' home, shared with my younger son. Prior to this I spent thirty-five years in the beautiful Sangre de Cristo mountains of northern New Mexico, where my life changed drastically on one hand, and wonderfully on the other. This is where I found true joy and peace, and I met a lot of wonderful people who became my friends.
When we first moved to New Mexico in January 1987, shortly thereafter I met my spiritual mentor and his wife, Peter and Rebekah Laue, who have been my friends since that time. They lived in Pagosa Springs, Colorado, but I met Peter through a mutual friend, Don Comptom, who was working with the boys' school in Springer, New Mexico, and my husband visited the prison regularly with Don. I can't remember how they chanced to visit us at our store in Las Vegas, but we became fast friends. Peter and I shared a common ministry of intercessory prayer. Peter and Rebekah had a sizable log cabin with a room over the garage lovingly called, "The Hiding Place," where many people have visited over all the years to be alone with God and sit in His lap. It's a wonderful place, and it became home to me, as I visited frequently. Since being in Virginia, however, I have not returned, but I wrote Peter and Rebekah a letter last week about my plans to visit my daughter and friends in New Mexico soon, and my deep desire to visit them and spend time with them in the Hiding Place.
Last night, I received an unexpected phone call from Peter's son, John, who lives in California, asking me to give him a call, at his dad's request. I did, and I received the sad news that Rebekah had passed on to glory on Sunday after going through a tough few years where she became weaker and weaker. Peter had tried to get her up Sunday, but she was way too weak, so as she lay in bed, she said, "Peter," and he responded, "Rebekah." Then she said "I see light," and she went to be with Jesus. A simple, beautiful way to end a well-lived life. I can't think of a better and more peaceful way to go from this world to the next, forever with Jesus. John shared that he and his dad walked up to the mailbox yesterday to mail me a letter, and they found mine waiting in the box. He said our letters touched each other, and this stirred Peter's grief-stricken heart so much he wanted John to contact me. I'm so glad he did, sharing with me the last days of Peter's beloved handmaiden, as he tenderly referred to Rebekah. Peter obviously is grieving greatly, and I am having a difficult time of it myself. I regret not having talked to them more often, but they were not the kind to share such news. Life with Jesus is full of love, joy, and pleasure.
Rebekah was a wonderful artist, and Peter has been a powerful writer, witnessing of the power and transformation in his life. A sample of his earlier writings can be found on an old website - https://www.stretcherbearers.com. Stretcher Bearers for Christ is the name of their ministry, and over the years their home in Pagosa Springs has been an open door for many travelers on the road to discovery in Christ. I'm not certain when I'll be able to go visit, as I am certain Peter needs time alone, and then, the holidays will bring his family. Plans for Rebekah's memorial will be individually celebrated, as each of their friends, myself included, will visit and share the time listening and remembering, alone with Peter. In a few days I will try to call, but I will be sending another letter.
I regret that the time passes by so quickly, and we become so busy in our lives that we fail to stop and make the effort to connect with those we love. When I shared this news with my older son, who has been battling cancer mostly on his own, due to troubling circumstances that have caused him to isolate himself from the family, with the exception of occasional text messages to me, he responded so:
"Well, at least she died with people who care. That's more than most people get. With health care issues so bad in this country it's only going to get worse sadly. Enjoy the time you have and tell the people you care about how you feel. I think that's the hardest lesson to learn. We all think we can do it tomorrow. But tomorrow isn't guaranteed."
Wise words from one so cynical about life at this present time, but regardless of what he's going through, he has always responded to me with caring words, and even if he seldom says the words I'd love to hear, I know he loves me. His words are true. Regret is something I have had to live with too much, but I purpose with all my heart to try to do better. We are not promised tomorrow, and we do need to make the most of the time we have been given. Wiser words I cannot say, so I leave it here.

 

 
  
  
  
 