We sent this letter out Christmas 2007. It explains in detail how it all went down. It’s worth the read!

Dear Friends,

This Christmas letter may be a bit different from traditional Yuletide greetings, but I have a story to tell. I feel like Mary – I have pondered these things in my heart for eight months and now it is time to put a voice to my thoughts. I hope that my story will serve to testify to the power of God’s grace, the healing of Christian forgiveness, and the goodness of God’s faithfulness.

In May, Theo and I found out that we were pregnant. After fourteen years of marriage, and numerous trips to fertility specialists, this was no ordinary news; yet it was not completely unexpected. You see, a few weeks before the confirmation of the pregnancy I knew that I had been healed. My healing came through a painful experience that God’s grace turned into a beautiful miracle.

For the past two years, I had been working with a student that demonstrated all of the behaviors that would be grounds for dismissal from school. He had been bullying other kids, failing classes, and was possibly involved with gang activity. Yet, seeing him as a seventh grader who had such potential, I was not ready to have him leave Rehoboth. I knew that whatever was “out there” beyond Rehoboth would only cause him to go into a tailspin. However, in mid-April things blew wide open and he got aggressive, even towards me and it looked as if we would have to have him leave school.

This does not happen without parental conversations and involvement, and so I had been meeting with mom, and sometimes dad (since they were separated) as incidents kept occurring. Finally, the young man had crossed the line and it was time to suspend him for a few days. I informed him and his parents, but to my surprise, he showed up at school the next day. He told me that his mom informed him that I couldn’t, even as principal, tell him not to come to school and that she was on her way to my office. She arrived a little while later and I was subjected to the worst verbal and spiritual attack of my life.

For her, this had become personal and my disciplining of her son reflected the evilness of my true character. I was told that I prayed to the devil, and that I hated children since I was not able to have any of my own. I was reminded again and again of my barrenness and that it was a curse put onto me – perhaps from Navajo traditionalists who despised my being Navajo and having so much power in the school, or perhaps, from God himself as a punishment for me not staying attuned to His will and kingdom. As I looked at this desperate, Christian mother through my own tears of hurt and unbelief, I felt as if she were possessed by an evil spirit. Somehow, God placed a spirit of peace within me as I underwent this vicious attack. I did not argue back; I knew it would be of no use. I simply used a calm voice and tried to be a peacemaker and listener. She left and I broke down. Was this the fruit of my dedication and hard work? It felt like a hopeless situation where reconciliation would never come. Through her anger, the devil used her words to spotlight every insecurity and weakness of mine; it was uncanny how he exposed each doubt and vulnerability.

Even though I knew her words to be untrue, they haunted me and cast my identity as a Navajo Christian into question. As my husband and I had worked through our infertility, there were the traditional Navajos who came to me and suggested using medicine men and ceremonies to be cured. There were also Christians who laid their hands on me and prayed for God’s miraculous healing. I knew that there were others who were looking for explanations, answers, and solutions much as we were. But no answers had come. Yet, through it all, I knew that I would stay true to the Triune God and His will would suffice for us. He brought us Laura, a beautiful 4 year-year old daughter in 2000 and we were well on our way to adopting Yohannes, a handsome 6 year-old son who would arrive summer, 2007. Whether my womb was barren or not, God had blessed our family and life was fruitful.

Due to the personal attacks, I removed myself from the decisions about the future for this young man at Rehoboth, and he was told not to return for the rest of the year. I yearned for reconciliation with the mother and prayed that God would grant us that – and a few weeks later, He brought us together. She returned to apologize – I took her into my arms and said, “I am so glad that you are here.” She hugged me like a little girl and then fell into a chair where she stroked my hand and repeatedly apologized for her anger and her words. I forgave freely – it was the most liberating experience I have ever had. Since I had only told a couple of people (who needed to take over the situation for me) about the actual attack, I knew that I had not done wrong against her, even in my damaged state. After a tearful conversation, we prayed together. I was incapable of praying out loud, but the school counselor started out and then the mother prayed fervently. She prayed for my whole being – and especially over my desire to give birth to a child. As she prayed, I felt the Spirit of God at work, not just in that counseling office, but also in my body. I knew that I had been healed - healed through the pain of working with troubled children, desperate parents, and through the grace of God that calls for peacemaking and reconciliation.

Three weeks later, I was at the funeral home planning Renzo Fowler’s funeral (he was a seventh grade student killed in a horse accident) when the doctor’s office called to inform me that I was pregnant. I was overcome and fell to my knees outside the mortuary – not in shock and disbelief, but in recognition that the Lord is the God of grace, healing, reconciliation, and redemption. His timing is always part of the blessing. He is faithful and good. I fell to my knees because I had always known this and lived my life based on this truth, but I never experienced it so profoundly.

God’s blessings often come like the rain here in the desert – the drought is so prolonged that the dryness of the land seems normal; we can forget that the rain clouds still come and drench the thirsty land beyond its capacity to soak it in. The blessing of children is what we are still trying to soak in this year. In August, we welcomed Yohannes, age 6, into our family from Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. He is a true delight – quick in his tongue & laughter and full of adventure & curiosity. And, the Lord willing, in January, we will give birth to a long-expected son, a gift from God; an answer of “YES!” to prayers for miracles.

In my work at Rehoboth Christian School, I recognize that the devil does still have a foothold in the lives of the families that we minister to, and that we are constantly called to be the light shining through the darkness of poverty, oppression, addictions, and hopelessness. I want you to know that I constantly admire how you also enter the lives of children and families who are in darkness – often putting yourself in the vulnerable position of being ignored, rejected, or even injured in your efforts. This is not easy work – we all can be under attack – but it is God’s work and He will bless it and bless you through it.

In the New Year, my prayer for you is that you also experience the profoundness of God’s faithfulness and goodness. May you expectantly await His timing and be blessed in your belief, in ways that surpass your imagination.

God is with us. Immanuel.

Carol Bremer-Bennett (and Theo)