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1) :a mental view or prospect
At 19 and newly married, I found myself in a new state—Alaska, over 4,000 miles away from everything and everyone I knew. It was 1985, and the move seemed to defy logic. I was naturally reserved, both in action and thought, which made the decision even more baffling to my family and extended relatives. Leaving behind my home state of North Carolina and having completed only one year of college seemed incomprehensible to them.
Calvary Life Fellowship (CLF) served as a “missionary house” in Kasilof, Alaska. My new husband and his family were part of this church group. Core family groups managed all operations. It functioned as both a church and a mission house. The building itself was a three-story structure with over 30 bedrooms, five bathrooms, and shared spaces including a kitchen, dining room, den, living room, chapel, and basement.
The church was distinctly non-traditional. Services took place twice on Sundays and also on Wednesday evenings. Devotions were integrated into every weekday evening meal, which was a communal sit-down dinner. It was an established expectation that anyone at home would be present at the table promptly at 5:30 p.m. There were numerous rules and regulations, too many to list in detail.
CLF was recognized by the neighboring locals and distant communities as “the commune” or “the mission.” This lifestyle was atypical from my perspective. Yet, it was home to many core families, their adult offspring, and their spouses. Its designation as a mission house stemmed from a common understanding: it was a sanctuary for those in need. Mothers with children and nowhere to turn, victims of abuse, the transient homeless, and anyone seeking assistance were welcome. Defined rules were established due to the constant influx of outsiders.
/per-spec-tive /
2) :a visible scene; especially one giving a distinctive impression of
When I wasn’t attending college or coaching, I also had household “chores,” as we all did. There were periods when I worked full-time at CLF, particularly between semesters and during the extended period when my children were very young. Of the core families, you were a full-time worker inside the house, or you had a full-time job outside the house. The jobs inside were rotated daily, Cook, Cleaner, and Babysitter.
My mother-in-law was an incredible woman who treated me as her own daughter. She taught me not just to cook from scratch, but also to prepare meals for over 40 people on occasion. The three tasks of cooking, cleaning, and babysitting weren’t inherently enjoyable. Reflecting back, during my twenties and early thirties, I honestly would have preferred an external job. However, it seemed that G-d had other plans for me.
The cook’s duties varied daily, but breakfast had to be prepared by 5:30-6:00 am, consisting of either hot cereal, pancakes, waffles, or fry bread. Lunch typically involved leftovers, while Monday through Friday featured a full-course, home-cooked meal served promptly at 5:30 pm. Saturdays were reserved for leftovers for all meals, whereas Sundays included sit-down full-course meals for both breakfast and lunch. The number of diners fluctuated, usually ranging from 15 to 40 per meal. Along with cooking, there were kitchen chores that needed to be done cleaning the refrigerator, sweeping and mopping the floors, and general upkeep of the kitchen.
The babysitter was responsible for supervising all the children in the house, including those from the core families and any transient children. The number of children varied daily, ranging from 3-4 to as many as 10-12. Tasks such as feeding, cleaning, entertaining, and ensuring their safety made it a demanding job.
The cleaner, on some days, was the best job of the house. All the common rooms were to be cleaned on a regular basis on particular days. You could work at your own pace as long as it all was completed by supper. I did not like cleaning other people’s messes, but I did like the solitude of working by myself.
You may be wondering why I chose to marry into this family if I was not interested in participating in the activities at Calvary Life Fellowship? Well, again full transparency, I truly did not fully understand what CLF was all about. But I soon learned.
Life was challenging, yet I found joy in assisting others and witnessing the positive impact at CLF. Numerous teens in need of guardianship passed through, and my husband and I were often selected to be their guardians. This role was difficult but immensely fulfilling.
The daily routine of rising early and preparing nice meals often goes without much appreciation. Was I seeking gratitude for all this effort? Not exactly, but it can be challenging to persist in a role where there is no immediate expression of thanks. This situation persisted for years, and it was during this period that I started having my children, which only added to the difficulty. A lack of sleep wasn’t an acceptable excuse for showing up late to serve breakfast, neglecting cleaning duties, or being too tired to care for a group of other people’s children. Gradually, I began to harbor resentment in my heart towards the core members who worked outside the house, not even realizing the change in my feelings. Despite dreading each workday, I still found enjoyment in helping most of the people and appreciated many of the core members.
/per-spec-tive /
3) :the capacity to view things in their true relations or relative importance
Then one day, another worker and I were having a quiet conversation, she was simply sharing how she managed each day. As she described her past feelings, I sat there, astonished. Her experiences mirrored my own. I remained silent, simply listening. Her secret was that her actions were not for others; not for the mother struggling with her child, not for the homeless in need of clean clothes and a bed, not for the perpetually hungry seated at the table daily, not even for her husband or children, nor were they dictated by a schedule or for the CFL itself. Every task she undertook, from preparing and serving meals, daily mopping, cleaning toilets, tending to runny noses, comforting injured children, to nurturing every pained soul that entered our home, was done for G-d. She approached each chore as if it were a divine request. Viewing her duties through this lens, she found life a bit more manageable and performed her tasks joyfully.
That conversation changed my life, my whole way of thinking. I still had my very hard moments and even days; but my perspective changed. Perspective is everything! From that moment on, I began to do everything I did for G-d, not just when I lived at The Fellowship.
“As always”: I’m eager to hear your views on “Perspective Is Everything” and your personal experience. Feel free to leave a comment, send an email or reach out to me on Facebook. If you find this blog enjoyable, please LIKE, SHARE, and SUBSCRIBE.
I appreciate you taking the time to visit and share a moment with me. Until next time, see you then!
P.S. (Is postscript still a thing?): I’ve lost all my photos of The Fellowship House, but I’ve reached out to family and friends. Hopefully, I’ll soon be able to update this post with images of the old Fellowship House.
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Through the LENS: a perspective of heart... 
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