Learn more about our local chapter of Royal Family Kid from the co-directors who run it: Jan, Diane and Eric. Interview by Justine.

For more information, check out their website: https://santamaria.royalfamilykids.org
Or email: This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.

Our Elders, Mike Harman, Aaron Carlberg, and Eric Djafroodi, gathered to answer some questions recently asked to Element surrounding COVID-19. Listen to their responses both as individuals and for Element as an organization. The questions/topics discussed were:

- The Bible instructs us to not give up meeting with the believers, and the Constitution guarantees the freedom of peaceful gathering of people as well as the freedom of religion (without the interference of government). Do you feel this has been jeopardized and if so, when as Christians and if ever, do we choose not to regard the Governors orders.
- How do you feel about a possible mandatory COVID vaccination?
- How does the great commission look for us in these times? To all nations and people. (What is “the great commission”)
- When will Element start meeting in person again?

If you have questions from this video, email them to This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it..

Get to know Lindsay, who has been a part of the Element Church family for several years, as Michael interviews her. You may not know her story, so we thought we would have her share it! We hope you are encouraged by her attitude towards life like we have been.

If you wish to send her a note of encouragement, you can email This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. or mail us and we deliver it for you:

Element Church
4890 Bethany Lane
Santa Maria, CA 93455

If you were asked to describe a “good” childhood, what might you say?  Some of you might mention summer evenings playing catch with a father or mother, afternoons swinging in a hammock and reading a book, baking cookies with a beloved grandmother, splashing in a pool and drying out in the sun, homework help, and nightly prayers with parents.  You might have had such a childhood.  Sadly, many children grow up wondering where their next meal will come from or how they can avoid the next blow from a parent’s hand.  These children have had their childhoods stolen away from them.  It is not good.

All through scripture, God tells us of His heart for the vulnerable, specifically for the widow, the fatherless (orphan), and the sojourner.  God’s law provided specifically for the widow and orphan through granting justice, food, and rights, by forbidding oppression and stinginess and by including the fatherless in the community. (See Deuteronomy 14: 28-29, 16: 10-14, 24: 17-21, and 27: 19). God’s word also promises that He hears the orphan’s cry, He watches over them, and places them in families.  In Psalms 27:10 David declares that though his father and mother have forsaken him, the Lord will take him in.  This is God’s heart: to welcome, love, and father the fatherless.

What does this have to do with stolen childhoods?  Aren’t these verses reflecting the orphan crisis in developing nations? We Americans tend to think of the orphans overseas and we miss the orphans right under our noses: children in foster care.  These vulnerable children face hunger, abandonment, abuse, helplessness, and possible child trafficking.  Christians have the responsibility to involve themselves in orphan care locally and internationally.  God calls His followers to specific good works, not to earn salvation, but to carry out His heart here on earth and to bring glory to God.  Paul puts it this way, “For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advanced for us to do.”  Ephesians 2:10.

Maybe you are hearing God’s call to join Him in caring for vulnerable foster children.  What are some practical steps?  Some of you might consider praying about becoming foster parents. Pathway Family Services is a good place to start: pathwayfamilyservices.org

Others of you might see the need, but might not be able to foster.  Fear not!  There are specific ways to get involved in local orphan care.  Because abuse started in a relationship, it is often repaired in a relationship.  Enter Royal Family Kids (RFK).  This organization began nearly 30 years ago to “help interrupt the cycles of neglect, abuse, and abandonment of children in foster care.”  Royal Family Kids is a worldwide organization that works with the government, businesses, and local churches to provide foster children a week at camp.  It’s more than just a camp. It’s a chance to point children to Jesus, to give them unconditional love, shower them with gifts, and to create a sense of true family. 

The past two summers, I have been a camp counselor.  Counselors are responsible for two children at all times and are partnered with another counselor and two other children to make a cabin group.  Additional staff members standby to offer love and support to anyone who needs it.  My first summer I remember wondering how much of an impact one week at camp actually makes.  That year, the little girls in my cabin taught me the impact.  One girl asked me to braid her hair every day.  I am certainly not the best hairstylist, but she craved a gentle hand that said, “I care.”  Even now when I see her at RFK Club (the year around mentoring program), she says, “I miss that summer when you would braid my hair.”  Another girl, who was sometimes detached, often walked beside me that first year.  One day, I said to her, “You know, there is a song that includes both of our names.”  I sang it to her and she gave me a very quizzical look. One year later, I was sitting with the same girl while she slowly finished dinner and she turned to me and said, “I still remember our song.”  She hummed a few lines of the old English tune and then smiled.  What impact does a week have?  Little moments that seem inconsequential matter greatly.  If little moments matter, then imagine the impact the Gospel has on these young lives.

This year, the Santa Maria camp is June 14^th-19^th.  Volunteers 18 years and over are needed.  Male and female counselors, photographers, media workers, and prayer partners are in high demand.  For every counselor who attends camp, two foster children are also able to attend.  Home Team positions are available for people who might not be able to get away for a week.  If you love writing letters, your gifts are needed!  The campers receive mail every day from members of the Home Team. 

There is a thorough application, background check and interview process.  For additional information and to begin the application process contact This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.. If you feel God calling you to minister to orphans through Royal Family Kids, please know that you’ll never be the same.  He will develop and shape you in ways that you could not imagine.  God’s hand and heart is for the fatherless. 

I love a good story, so much that I write fiction as a hobby (my own story world with characters in crisis, opposing goals, redemption, and of course a romance). This week I was confronted with the negative power words can bring; FOUR times in two days!  These experiences reminded me how important it is to be mindful of what I say. Obviously, God’s teaching me a lesson! However, by Wednesday, my Bible reading plan took me to Revelation 12:11, “And they have conquered him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony, for they loved not their lives even unto death.”

The blood of the Lamb overcame Satan, sin and death. This is so powerful, especially after we studied in Element University how God’s plan includes the shedding of blood (Hebrews 9:22: without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness of sins). Jesus shed His blood, and that work overcomes Satan! This may be my new favorite verse in the Bible; it’s the ultimate conclusion to the problem of sin. But why is a testimony important? A testimony (a good story) is sharing the gospel, the good news that proclaims Jesus to the world.

Thinking about these verses has made me consider how powerful our individual stories are. Each of us has a different story, and when we have a life-changing personal encounter with Jesus, it cannot be refuted. God uses us and our stories—our changed lives—to showcase His plan and work. This can be the moment we believe in Jesus, or small moments throughout our lives. In fact, at our women’s Bible study this week, various women shared how God has spoken to them; I sat both encouraged and in awe at how majestic God is.

As we’ve studied Acts, we see how Paul engages with the culture. It begs the question: what’s our current culture? Arguably, our culture responds well to stories. Movies, shows, books, and even commercials contain some element of storytelling. Stories paint a picture—of what was and what can or will be. A character is changed throughout the course of a story. We are relational human beings, and the power of stories resonates with us. In our current combative culture, building relationships and authentically sharing the change in our lives oftentimes has more of an impact than mere words or arguments (think of the diatribes on social media, or the protestor holding signs on a street corner. They typically turn people away, as opposed to towards their goals). As Christians, the true power of our story comes at the point where Jesus intervenes in our lives. Where He rescues us. Without redemption, a story falls flat and leaves us hopeless. 

We are called to have an answer for the hope we have in us (1 Peter 3:15). At their worst, words hurt and divide. However, at their best, words express the most beautiful of stories; the most important topic on which we ever communicate. Whether written or verbal, I am reminded of the power of our stories and testimonies and how words can be a tool to paint the picture of redemption—the moment Jesus saved us, and the moments throughout our lives where we see Him work. As we build relationships with those in our community—friends, coworkers, neighbors—our story is a reminder to know where Jesus has changed our lives and to be able to express that to others.

Have you ever said something you wished you wouldn’t have said? It’s happened to me, all too often (let’s be honest: I’ve never been accused of not saying enough). When this happens, though, I leave a conversation with a sick-to-my-stomach feeling until I make the situation right.

My past weekend was an odd one. On Friday night, there was an issue on my heart I couldn’t let rest, an urge to pray for a situation. When I finally texted the person I needed to speak to the next day, it was confirmed: they had needed prayer, and there was no doubt the Holy Spirit was both prompting me to pray, as well as reach out. That night, four people came to Christ. I was left with a feeling of humbled awe—the Lord of all creation would use me in a small piece of His redemptive story to show His great love. Then, a couple of days later, I was annoyed with something and made a point to express my opinion.  In that situation, I said my thoughts, leaving with a bitter taste in my mouth. My comment did nothing to help the situation. Even worse, my husband (who tends to be a steady guide for me) cautioned me against saying anything. Did I listen? No. I felt my opinion was too important and went in, verbal guns blazing.

What’s the difference between these two scenarios? I’ve wrestled with this for the majority of the day, and come to two conclusions: 1) pride, and 2) the Holy Spirit’s guidance. When are comments helpful and productive, and when are they destructive and divisive?

I’ve been on the side of not following the Holy Spirit’s promptings: knowing I need to reach out to someone and not doing it, finding out later they needed encouragement and I didn’t reach out. I’ve also been on the side of saying something I shouldn’t, feeling guilt and remorse. And, in the most beautiful of scenarios, I’ve been able to see God work through His timing when I respond to His perfect promptings. How are we supposed to know the difference? What does that look like in real life?

There’s only one conclusion I can come to: prayer and discernment, coupled with trusted guidance. Ironically, it’s not a step-by-step process, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s this: when I move in the Spirit, I have life and peace. When I move in the flesh it’s destruction. The fruit of the Sprit is “is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control”  (Galatians 5:23). If I’m honest about some of my reactions, I lack self-control. And, when I react out of my flesh, I experience the opposite of peace. However, when I follow the Holy Spirit, the by-product is an inexplicable peace, a rightness in my world, and a humility at how great God is. What should I do? Pray before I speak, and if it’s an issue that may need to be addressed, seek wise counsel. (Imagine a world where we all thought before we spoke or commented! How many conflicts could be avoided?!) When I pray, wait and listen, and—if needed—seek counsel, results are different. 

I wish I had a formula for Christian life. I wish I had a guideline of when to speak, and when not to speak. Yet, God doesn’t give us that magical solution. What He does give is His Holy Spirit. It’s in Him we live and move and have our being (Acts 17:28). I find myself wondering: if God gave me a simple formula, would I need Him? If He gave me the boxes to check, would I rely on His guidance? I don’t think so, honestly. I would probably rely on my own self sufficiency and ability to fulfill a set of guidelines. What am I left with? I’m left with the mess of a rule-following perfectionist personality who will never be able to follow rules perfectly. I fail. I sin. Enter the beauty of the gospel and the work Jesus accomplished: the good news that I don’t have to figure out this life on my own, I don’t have to do it perfectly. He did it for me. It’s the inexplicable mystery of God’s grace that humbles me. He uses sinful humans in His redemptive purposes, creating a dependence on Him that we couldn’t find on our own. I pray I learn from my mistakes, accept the grace I’m given, and move forward in a dependence on the Holy Spirit to share the gospel of Jesus, in whom we live and move and have our being.

The following is a story from missionaries we support in the Philippines: Brian & Bailey Pruett. Click here to read more about who they are and what they do.  

The smell of freshly painted rotor blades was blowing out the hangar’s exhaust fan into the stifling, tropical air. A fresh paint job was imperative after flying through one hundred hours of pulverizing rain and salt air. My inspection was nearly finished, and it was time to eat lunch and re-group before reassembling the helicopter and signing the logbooks. I was ahead of schedule and anticipated a relaxing lunch in our climate-controlled spare parts room.

“Bing.” Just as I sat down, Skype broke the silence. For me, the Skype alert tone is more “Imperial Death March” than cheerful alert. This sound, in the middle of the day, often means things are about to get messy. With significant apprehension, I looked at my phone and saw the message, “Anyone there? We have a bit of a situation here.” Below that message it showed Lynne was typing…and typing…and typing. It felt like an eternity as I waited to hear what was going on. Was she taking a long time because of slow satellite internet connection, or was it something serious? I decided to prepare for the worst.

I quickly called Bailey to alert her that something was going on. She handled the Skype communication as she normally does. She would contact me once she had assessed the situation. I turned Skype notifications off so I could focus. I reviewed my checklists and notes while I quickly swallowed my lunch. I had to decide if I could safely put the helicopter back together and do an emergency flight before sunset at 5:33pm.

It was now 1:15pm and pieces of the helicopter were neatly organized on shelves and service carts in the hangar. I was working alone because my partner and his family were in Texas on a well-deserved furlough. I still had to do a gearbox oil change, install the interior inspection covers and seats, cowl the engine compartment, and do an engine compressor wash. It would be tight but I could do it all, including the paperwork and test flight, without rushing if I could work steadily and without interruptions.

While I worked on my plan, Bailey handled all the other logistics. She chatted with Lynne, a veteran missionary of more than 25 years who lives deep in the jungles of the Philippines. She and her family live completely off-grid – no roads, no doctors, no access to the modern world. They planted a church in the jungle many years ago and are now translating the New Testament into the Banwaon language. This is vital to equip leaders in the Banwaon church with the tools they need to stand on their own for generations to come.

“Lynne said that Stevie fell and broke his arm badly. He is in shock and is in a lot of pain. Can you get him to the hospital today? Weather in the village is ok but Lynne can see rain coming from the east.” Bailey’s text was efficient and had all the information I needed. It was urgent, but not “life threatening.” What was perhaps most critical was getting to Lynne and Stevie quickly because of the anxiety they would be under with an injury like that in such an isolated place.

“I’ll try my best. I’ll have to be airborne by 4:15 to do it today,” I replied. Bailey encouraged Lynne that I was doing all I could to make it happen by the end of the day and that we would get her son to the hospital. Bailey stayed online with Lynne to encourage her and chat a bit to help keep Lynne’s mind off of the “what-if’s.”

The helicopter inspection came together nicely. The ink on my final signature dried quickly on the logbooks but the fresh paint on the rotors was going to have to “take one for the team” today. I went into the bathroom and cleaned up as best I could. I was a sweaty mess as one always is when working in the tropics. I didn’t bring my flight uniform to the shop that day, but that wasn’t important now. I figuratively took my mechanic hat off and put my test-pilot hat on.

“I’ll be ready in 30. Weather update?” I texted to Bailey. While I waited for Bailey to relay an update to me from Lynne, I fueled the helicopter and gave it a final pre-flight inspection. It was 3:45pm and I still needed to do a test flight and check for oil leaks. I sat down in the pilot seat, checklist in hand, and fought the urge to rush. I purposefully, slowly and methodically started the engine while reminding myself, “The hurrier I go, the behinder I get.” Mistakes in this phase of my work could kill people, not save them.

“No clouds on the ridges, dark to the East. If you can get across the mountains, you can land at the helipad. It won’t hold for long,” Bailey’s text came in. Not a good report, but not bad for the time of day on our island in the South China Sea.

I flew for 15 minutes testing all the systems and flight characteristics of the helicopter just like I would do on any other test flight. Everything checked out fine. “Thank you, Lord,” I said in relief as I landed. I left the helicopter running as I stepped out and, with a light and mirror, gave the engine a thorough check for fuel and oil leaks. All good. “Thank you, Lord.” I signed the test flight papers and switched hats again.

Now I was a medevac pilot. I shifted myself into the right frame of mind to deal with the tropical rain showers, jungle mist and thunderstorms I would encounter as I would fly across miles of dense mountain jungle to get to Lynne and Stevie. I had to remind myself that I wouldn’t let the urgency of the situation lure me into a death-trap of terrain and weather.

I strapped back in, took a deep breath and prayed as I picked up my checklist and unlocked the flight controls: “Here we go, God. Thanks for getting me this far. You know the weather I need to have in order to continue this flight, and I’m counting on you to give it to me, or not. I won’t push it. Please let Lynne and Stevie know you’ve got this under control.” With that, I lifted off and flew away toward the mountains.

As I approached the mountain pass, I could see that God cleared and held open a literal corridor in the rain that was just wide enough to pass through, like Moses at the Red Sea. When I arrived, Lynne and Stevie, who was clearly in a lot of pain, climbed into the helicopter while it was still running. Lynne’s husband, Albert, and I loaded their bags. They are veteran flyers and knew just what to do. I don’t think I was on the ground for more than 5 minutes before we were airborne again.

We landed back at the hangar at 5:20pm. Bailey met me with dinner at the hangar knowing I had a lot of work left to do to clean up. She then took Lynne and Stevie to the hospital where she had already arranged for them to see a doctor. Bailey and the kids enjoyed time with Lynne and Stevie over the days that followed. They provided a much-needed connection to the rest of the world for them since they normally live in such isolation.

This is just one example of what a day can bring for us. We use a helicopter as a tool to support church planters who work at the ends of the earth. We support many missionary teams like Lynne and her family with medical flights, groceries, construction materials, transportation, and encouragement. Planting a self-sustaining church across cultures in the Philippines is a task that takes many, many years. Without the helicopter, missionaries could not sustain life and ministry in the deepest, darkest corners of the earth long enough to teach, translate Scripture, and disciple new believers. What a privilege it is for us to serve in this way and to be a part of God’s plan to reach the World with His Good News.

Meet the Pruetts, Missionaries in the Philippines

This is Sarah McCool and this is my first ever blog. For those that have known my husband, Brandon, and I for any length of time will find it no surprise that my first blog is about Kobe Bryant, or is it? To some, it seems silly, but to most, fans or otherwise, the world has come together in a moment of stunned silence as we recognize the loses that occurred over the weekend of January 25-26, 2020. For those unfamiliar, Sunday January 26^th Kobe Bryant, his 13-year-old daughter Gianna and 7 other passengers lost their lives in a helicopter crash. The loss of a legend like Kobe is sad in itself, but to also lose his daughter and two of her teenage friends (all of whom are barely on the brink of exploring those awkward teenage years ) in the same accident is heart-breaking. ,. Parents with kids left behind, spouses who will never see their loved one again, it puts a lump in my throat every time I think of it.

I sat in church service on Sunday as my phone went off with a text, then another, then a phone call, then more texts…I knew something was happening. When I finally checked all the alerts and saw how many people were concerned about me because a celebrity died, it sent me on a journey for a few days of realizing just how I had let this figure (celebrity) become so important in my life. I shared with a dear friend how silly it seemed to shed so many tears over a celebrity;  a man I had never met. My tears were not simple tears of sympathy, but sobbing in my husband’s arms having trouble catching my breath. I then started justifying my emotions with how the name Kobe Bryant brings so many memories flooding into my heart. Some of the only happy memories I have left of my dad are of us watching basketball games together or going to games together at the Forum and the Staple Center. I have memories of my dad and I defending Kobe to my Mom, who I think just loved to root against us, as if he were our family member. Later in life, Kobe and the Lakers were the first thing I found in common with the man I would end up marrying in a wedding decorated in purple and gold;  we even introduced our Wedding Party like a starting line up using the same music the Lakers use to announce theirs.

I had a friend jokingly say, “I’m sorry your priest died.” Ok, we all know that friend was Aaron. I couldn’t help but laugh as I had to acknowledge the pedestal that I have put this human on. All these memories I cherished I felt had to die because he died. That’s when I realized how easy it is to have someone jump from a legend to a god in our heart. When I hear about idolatry and false gods, I think of golden calves and Zeus. Or maybe more relatable today: money, material things, or children. But did I really turn a celebrity into a god? I mean, I wasn’t REALLY worshiping him (or was I)? I tied all these memories of my life to this human and ultimately believed because he was dead, my memories were gone with him. I kept waiting for reports to come out that there was a mistake and everyone else was dead but not him. I quickly realized how immortal I thought he was.

Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with admiring someone for their hard work, their skill, or even their legacy. The problem is when your respect for that person begins to dictate your beliefs, like mine with the memories. Without realizing it, I began believing this person would always be part of my life (even though I never met them). I found myself empty when he wasn’t alive any more. EMPTY! I would say that I had indeed changed part of my identity of being fulfilled with Christ to feeling empty without this celebrity. I put more on this human than was intended for a human to bear, celebrity or otherwise.  The truth is that  regardless of who they are: your kids, your spouse, a parent, or even a celebrity, they are human. 

Human beings are feeble, breakable, and unsurprisingly mortal. When a person is no longer there and you are destroyed because they take all of your hopes with them (including your identity), that’s when they’ve become a god.

But here’s the most amazing thing as a believer in Jesus, we know there IS someone immortal that we can put all of our hope and faith in. For the early disciples, when Jesus died, they also felt like they had lost everything…but then Jesus rose from the grave in fulfillment of all that God had promised. Because of the resurrection Jesus’ death, far from stealing our joy, gives us a reason to be joyful. He has covered us with His grace to walk us through the hard times. He covers us with forgiveness when we stumble and reminds of who He is when we put someone in front of Him. He is the reason we get to love and He sends us to spread His love. Our job is to comfort those who are in pain and extend His love on His behalf. He is to be glorified above the Kobe’s, the Princess Diana’s, the Mother Theresa’s. When we have a proper perspective of who Jesus is we get to help people see they can have hope past pain and loss…and just as Kobe would, get back to work (see, I couldn’t resist one last pedestal).

I will still cherish the sweet memories of my Dad and I bonding together in those basketball moments and attach a certain degree to #24 (one of Kobe’s jersey numbers, yes, he had 2). I will still call “Kobe” any time I throw something towards the garbage in an attempt to make it in some sort of “goal.” I can still mourn and share sadness in a situation that is truly tragic, but I don’t need to wallow in it. I can move on. I can celebrate what has been given by the true God and hopefully also help you move past the false gods that you set up in your life.