Improbable People Ministries

The Music & Ministry Of Sally Klein O'Connor

The Rest Of The Story

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So the message of the LORD spoken through Jeremiah was fulfilled. The land finally enjoyed its Sabbath rest, lying desolate until the seventy years were fulfilled, just as the prophet had said. —2 Chronicles 36:21 NLT

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 There remains, then, a Sabbath-rest for the people of God; for anyone who enters God’s rest also rests from their works just as God did from his. Let us, therefore, make every effort to enter that rest, so that no one will perish by following their example of disobedience. —Hebrews 4:9-11

 


When Bonnie Joy was very young, she asked me, out of the blue, about the Sabbath. She wanted to know why we didn’t observe it and rest. Since that day, all those

“Since that day, all those many years ago, I have wrestled with what it means to enjoy the Sabbath.”

many years ago, I have wrestled with what it means to enjoy the Sabbath. For me, as a Jewish believer, who is also a music minister, many Saturdays I “work.” Therefore I like to think about it as ministry—but it is also work. And in the last few years I have often told myself, Jesus said “It is lawful to do good on the Sabbath.” (Matthew 12:12) And if healing a man’s crippled hand is a good thing to do on the Sabbath, what about a broken heart—or broken soul? I believe the ministry that we do is a good thing. And yet… I often wonder what it means to truly remember the Sabbath and keep it holy?

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Annette Louise Alvidres Grable: An Appreciation

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I first heard about the passing of my dear friend and mentor, Annette Louise Grable, on November 13th. Both she and her husband, Kevin, meant so much to me as I entered college. She was a huge part of organizing so many of the fun and ministry events at the Valley Vineyard, our home church in Reseda, California while I was growing up. Looking back at the many times she touched me, there are two in particular that stand out.

“This revelation fascinated Annette and, far from questioning the vision, she appreciated that I shared it with her.”

The first is when I was looking for someone to help me with my writing. She introduced me to Jarre Fees, a woman at church. Jarre and I became fast friends. She saw potential in me and, with patience, helped me become a better writer. When Jarre passed away in May of 2014, Annette was one of few people I felt comfortable sharing a vision God gave me in the midst of my grief. I saw Jarre, the way I last remembered her: elderly, short gray hair, bent over and using a walker. Then she stood upright; her walker was gone, she grew younger, and her hair became blonde and long. This revelation fascinated Annette and, far from questioning the vision, she appreciated that I shared it with her.

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Big News Shakes Los Angeles (Film at 11)

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Dear Friends of Improbable People,

Sally and I have a couple pretty big announcements to share with you today. The first is earthquake-sized. Let’s call it a 6.5 on the Richter Scale. Maybe a 7.1 . Anyway–it’s gigantic. It’s disruptive. It’s . . . 7.1 FER GOSH SAKES!!!

What more description do you need? It’s get-under-your desks-the-crystal-chandelier-is-going-to-fall-on-you kind of big. It’s a take-as-long-as-you-need-to-digest-this information-but-if-you-do-the Earth-may-open-beneath-you-and-swallow-your-house-whole type memo. [Read more…]

Musings Of An Aging Minstrel

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Sally Klein O'Connor Improbable People Ministries

So . . . I am about to go into the studio and begin recording some of my songs for our 8th album. As I look back on earlier days of our ministry and listen to my voice in its prime, I appreciate it more than I ever valued it then. I struggled with so much insecurity in myself as a human being—let alone as a singer. And now that I am older, my voice has a lot more ups and downs. In my fleshly self—in other words, ego—I wrestle with all of that, wanting it to be so different.

I see how vastly different is the Lord’s measure of me than my measure of myself

But God, who knows our humanity from the inside out, continues to show that sometimes in the weaknesses and imperfections He can speak more loudly than in my polished moments. This has been true throughout the three-plus decades of Improbable People, but even more apparent in these days. I see how vastly different is the Lord’s measure of me than my measure of myself and, unfortunately, of others at times.

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Surrender The Forest

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When I was a kid, the world came in two shades: black and white. Something was or it wasn’t. An idea was right or wrong. You avoided wrong and bad things while participating in right and good things. That’s just how it was, and anyone who didn’t understand the world like I did and then behave accordingly confused me to no end.

One of the things I grew up believing was that words matter. If you say you’re going to do a thing, you’re going to do the thing. There’s grace for forgetfulness and unforeseen circumstances, but you do the thing you said you were going to do, and if you’re not really interested in doing the thing then you don’t ever commit to it out loud.

One of the things I grew up believing was that words matter.

I grew up as a Vineyard kid—that is, one of the many non-denominational Christian churches under the umbrella of Vineyard, USA—and among the many worship songs we sang, there was a particular one called Surrender that never sat right with me. The first verse and chorus goes:

I’m giving you my heart, and all that is within
I lay it all down for the sake of you my King
I’m giving you my dreams, I’m laying down my rightsx
I’m giving up my pride for the promise of new life
And I surrender all to You, all to You
And I surrender all to You, all to You

                                   Click on picture to listen to Mark James sing Surrender

Words matter to me, and “all” is an awfully broad, unspecified category.
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Laying Down The Sword

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I have been thinking back to when I used to fight with my dad all the time. Our arguments could go as long as 4 hours—literally. I clocked it a couple times. By that I mean I happened to look at the time when we sat down starting to talk, and again when I got up and it was over. Minutes and then hours flew by because all the anger I had accumulated from past wrongs—real and perceived—had reached a maximum saturation point and just came spilling out of me with the least provocation.

Such are the times we are living in. It is my observation that objective truth—as much as we are capable of recognizing it—has very little weight in this season. What matters to so many is the emotional truth—the wrongs and injustices done, both real and perceived that, having not been adequately addressed have accumulated over years.

He only had to speak one small statement I disagreed with

It was the same with my dad and I. He only had to speak one small statement I disagreed with, and it would trigger all the previous words and injustices, real and perceived. I could never get my fill of hurting him back verbally for all the times he hurt me and my brother with his rage, creating complete fear and distrust.

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The Last Campaign Promise

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EDITOR’S NOTE: From the beginning we promised this blog would be as free of political discourse as possible. But this essay by Bonnie, like Sally’s recent post, brings in the political world in order to make a greater point. We hope you will agree this is a fair exception to our rule because it does not proselytize for any candidate or issue. 

Before I remove myself from Facebook for a while—thanks 2020 Election—I’d like to share my heart and thoughts about it.

I don’t hate the election. What I have always hated is the treatment I’ve been seeing Democrats and Republicans give one another online. Another reason I was glad to leave California was because while there I was under peer pressure to vote one certain way from my friends. Even while I was in high school my teachers encouraged me to vote, no questions asked, for certain candidates and propositions. I didn’t do as they wished in 2012, because I found the policies at odds with what I believed. On top of that, I believe it is better for school authorities to state facts and encourage students to think for themselves rather than being led like sheep.

I’ve been careful to not share too many political views on Facebook.

I’ve been careful to not share too many political views on Facebook. I’d rather not face so much anger and wrath. But then again, proclaiming my faith in Jesus rouses offense too. So why should I be afraid?

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Hey God, Are You Talking To Me?

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One of the most enjoyable movies I’ve ever encountered is a Disney gem called Enchanted. In it, an animated Disney princess named Giselle is banished by an evil stepmother to a place “where there are no happily-ever-afters.” She is sent, in fact, to real-world New York and crash lands into the life of single father Robert, who happens to be a divorce attorney.

This movie is Disney’s playful love letter to the musical Disney princess genre and includes some fantastic genre-aware humor, including my favorite moment where Giselle explains to Robert that it’s important for him to express his love, so that his true love knows that he loves her. Giselle, of course, explains this by breaking into song.

Robert, initially annoyed, becomes increasingly flabbergasted as random people around him pick up the melody as if everyone has managed multiple rehearsals beforehand. By the end of

 . . . being genre-aware in real life is more like being stuck in an anxiety loop

the song, he is resigned and amused to be in the middle of a full-blown musical number.
(*Production number available below)

Genre-aware humor is one of my favorite aspects of a good parody movie, but being genre-aware in real life is more like being stuck in an anxiety loop.

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From Film Fest to Film Fast

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Our church is doing a kind of fast as we study 2 Chronicles 7:14. Usually that fast would involve food for me. But as I asked the Lord in prayer I felt Him impressing on my heart that I needed to stop watching the TV—movies, videos, etc. It’s been harder than I.

I had been promising myself each night as a “reward” to kick back and watch a movie.

 thought. Kind of took me by surprise. I had been promising myself each night as a “reward” to kick back and watch a movie. Not that we have all those cable channels—but Amazon Prime and Netflix are quite enough in themselves. OK—a little limited Disney Plus also. But anyway, I see in retrospect how much I allowed myself to be distracted and my connection with God has been cloudy at best.

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The God Who Sees

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I remember reading Man’s Search for Meaning by Viktor Frankl several years ago. In it he shared some of his experiences in one of the death camps during the Holocaust. At the core of what he was saying was the idea that most of those who survived the camps were people who had a purpose or reason to live. They had something—or someone—to come back to or live for.

I think of our all too human need to attain some significance in this life and the great longing to know that we matter—that we are seen and our lives are not in vain.

And then I consider Hagar. She was not the classically chosen mother of the promise God gave Abraham. She was the woman Sarah put in the arms of her husband Abraham out of fear and doubt that God might not fulfill His promise to give Abraham an heir that would actually come from

“You are the God who sees me.”

Sarah’s womb. And even in that reckless choice of Sarah’s, God was gracious to Hagar and brought Abraham his son, Ishmael. When I first learned this story in full, after coming  to faith, the conclusion I drew from it was that Sarah became impatient and tried to fulfill God’s promise on her own in a cultural context.

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