Category Archive: God’s Promises

Keep me Safe ‘Til the Storm Passes By*

Generosity – largeness of spirit. So often we think of generosity relative to finances, to money. Earning it, keeping it, spending it, sharing it. But scripture speaks about much more than money in relation to generosity. Pastor Rene is teaching on this and talked of how generosity is the “overflow of a heart filled with gratitude.”

In studies compiled in GRATITUDE WORKS, Dr. Robert Emmons says grateful people sleep better, have lower blood pressure and increased alertness and energy, better stress coping mechanisms, and improved cardiac health, among other physical and emotional benefits.

When we realize how much God has done for us, our gratitude leads to a response of generosity. It may be expressed through time given to listen or help others; through welcoming others into family times; or through personal sacrifice that allows another to thrive.

Learning to sleep after surgery, while protecting my right shoulder, has been a process — several nights I’ve been unable to sleep. Don has gotten up with me, tucked me in for comfort and security, and done extra to cover what I can’t do right now. The other night I got comfortable and was able to doze off in Don’s arms, with our Cavalier Paige at the foot of the bed.

Paigey often wanders awhile before settling into sleep. She leans against Don’s body, then mine, checks to be sure she has her chew bone, then wiggles around a bit more. As I started to roll over onto my own pillow later that night, I found I couldn’t. Paige had rolled up against me, moving from my shoulders to my knees, securely tucking my blanket around me.

I had to laugh in thanks. I have a loving provider in my husband, who cares for me in little and big ways. Friends and family express love through calls, meals, visits, notes. And I even get tucked in by my little canine.

There are many who are finding it difficult to feel any gratitude right now: between mass shootings, earthquakes, hurricanes and fires, our country is in a world of hurt. I can’t imagine the horror country fans in Vegas felt as they began to realize what they thought were firecrackers were really bullets. Or the agony of watching your home and belongings burn before your eyes in Sonoma, surrounding counties, and in Southern California. And my heart breaks for these.

There was a time in my own life when I experienced severe depression. I wasn’t able to push past the pain to find any gratitude, I asked God to hold me, confessing I had nothing with which to hold onto Him. And He did. Because He is faithful.

As I pray for the many who are in emotional, physical and spiritual pain right now, I also pray for the firefighters and police personnel who are trying to bring stability and order out of chaos. And I pray that we as a nation might lean into Jesus for hope, comfort, restoration, peace, for repentance as we turn our hearts back to Him.

Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed,
    for his compassions never fail.

They are new every morning;
    great is your faithfulness.

I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion;
    therefore I will wait for him.”   Lamentations 3:22-24 NIV

*From a hymn written by Mosie Lister.

It’s a Parade!

Nurse Paigey on my lap while I recover

I wish I’d had a long selfie stick to capture the moment. Following major surgery last week, I’d had quite a good day at home with lovely visits (and meals) from dear friends. I’d probably overdone it. That night, despite my medications, I was hurting significantly and couldn’t find a pain free position in which to sleep. At about midnight, I told Don I’d go sleep in the recliner in the family room.

Don said he would join me and followed me out of our room, pillows in hand. Walking down the hall, I heard the patter of softly padded paws trotting behind Don. Our little parade of 3 settled onto the recliners and slept thru the night, together. Every time that picture enters my mind I chuckle…this was family, working together toward recovery.

Before having total shoulder replacement surgery, both Don and I thought about the possibility of complications. When it came time, we each had to release our concerns to the Lord, trusting He knew our present and our future.
Afterward, my wonderful surgeon said all had gone well. Several times during the day and night following, I wakened to an enveloping sense of peace and quiet. And a sense of wonder infused my spirit. It was over. I was here. God was here. Don was here.

Now I’m home, with loving thanks to you who’ve sent cards, notes, called, and brought meals. My four-legged buddy has kept very close tabs on me since being home, cuddling up against me at night, sticking close during the day. My two-legged wonder, Don, even watched a shoulder replacement surgery with me online (well THAT explains the bruising!), cared for me, warmed meals, cleaned and laundered.

We have an amazing God who not only fashioned us within our mothers’ wombs, but has given man the tools and experience to rebuild damaged parts of the body. I give thanks!

So we’re into recovery. A day at a time. Grace for each day. Surrounded by love, trusting that I will also respond with grace when pain persists.

 

Contentment … a Choice

The sun shone brightly as we sat on the beach. Don and I had driven to Carmel to celebrate our September birthdays. I tossed a stick to our Cavalier, Paigey, who ran, dug underneath the stick so she got less sand in/on her nose, and then ran back to me. “Throw it again, Mum.” Her expressive eyes sparkled, anticipating the next chase. As the dark thunderheads moved above us, I felt a raindrop caress my ankle … then another on my arm, and another, and another …

Don had tucked the beach umbrella into the sand and adjusted it. Paigey found her dry place and tucked in. We had the beach almost to ourselves. We felt close, intimate, cocooned. Thunder roared and lightning flashed. And then the clouds moved and the sun reappeared, until another ominous grey cloud hid its brightness.

Just like life. Storms come, storms go. As my cousin said, “One thing is resolving while another stress is coming down the chute.”

Hurricanes Jose and Maria are following Irma; yet dear friends in Florida, where they just purchased a home, have seen neighbors work together to clear debris and begin the rebuilding process. Another friend lost none of her cattle, and “caught and released” an alligator from her garage, significantly inland from the Coast. Resolving, waiting.

We were never promised a life of ease. Instead, we ARE promised that our God will never forsake us–whether in the middle of the crashing storm or of a sweet life season.

Where are you right now? Are you in a storm or a sweet season? Sometimes they co-exist. I’m in a very sweet season in my marriage, but having shoulder replacement surgery this Thursday to ease pain and limitations I’ve had. I am blessed with a loving, protective husband and a close family unit. I have friends, a lovely home, a doggie who delights my heart. But … it’s so easy to despair when pain strikes, when I

can’t put dishes onto the shelf or hook my seat belt without pain. I don’t see surgery as a storm, but as a little cloud that will hopefully result in greater mobility and less pain down the road. Others face much larger storms, hurricanes, thrashing rain.

Where we look for help is key. God has given us Himself, not only to live within us but to also come alongside us, each day, in each need. As the apostle Paul said, “I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.” Philippians 4:12

Sometimes I am content. Sometimes I fret.

I choose to be content this week. Content in God’s great love and provision for me, His care for the smallest details. And to be thankful!

BROKEN DREAMS, FULFILLED

My dream

As a little girl, I dreamed of the day I would walk down the aisle in a white gown, a long lace veil and train following the billowing skirts of my Cinderella gown. Babies would follow and a tall, handsome man and I would share a home filled with laughter and love. A white picket fence would surround our house. It was a picture-perfect scenario.

But God led me another way. I served with an inner city ministry for ten years, then married for the first time at the age of thirty-six. Lots of conversations with my new husband centered around if, and when, we might try to have a child, or children. My husband was nine and a half years older than I. One concern was that our children, if we had any, would have significantly older parents than most of their peers. When our child was 20, we could be 58 and 68 respectively. We prayed, talked, I cried, we talked more … and determined that for us, bearing and raising children might not be the best option.

One Mother’s Day I cried through the whole church service. I cried throughout the afternoon and evening. My kind husband tried to comfort me, but my dream of being a mother was dying, and I grieved. Time healed the grief and my husband and I shared a lovely life together until his untimely death at the early age of 66. After his passing, I thought I might remain single; a few years later, however, God brought Don into my life. We fell in love and married.

         Mom and three of her four children

Today we celebrated another Mother’s Day with my sweet 95-year old mother. We are so blessed that this lovely, gracious woman is still with us, praying for us, making us laugh with her hearing loss that results in some pretty hilarious conversations.

And that dream of mine that died years ago? This week I received a beautiful note from a younger woman I led to Christ about a year ago. “You have been like a mother to me…” she wrote. As tears filled my eyes, I thought of the ways God has fulfilled my dream – in an out-of-the-box kind of way. I’ve had the privilege of discipling several women over the years, and now have two wonderful women whom I have the joy of loving and teaching and walking alongside in their relationship with Christ. My oldest brother asked today, “Carol, is Mother’s Day hard for you since you don’t have children?” I responded immediately. “No, because God has given me spiritual daughters.” Oh, I feel a twinge now and then … like when I chose not to take the “Mother’s Day mug” from church this morning because I am not a mother in the traditional sense. But those twinges don’t last long.

So, my point? God is not limited to one way of answering prayer. This is a hard day for many women – women who have never had a loving relationship with their mother; women who long to bear children and can’t, for a variety of reasons. Women who have carried a child who died in utero, in birth, or after birth. My heart goes out to each of you, for the grief you feel and the heartache that bubbles to the surface on this day.  But let’s also ask God to help us recognize His “out-of-the-box” handprint on our lives.

“As you do not know the path of the wind, or how the body is formed in a mother’s womb, so you cannot understand the work of God, the Maker of all things.” Ecclesiastes 11:5 NIV

Question: How have you seen God’s handprint on your life in unexpected ways?

Agony … and Glory!

“Christ is risen.”

“He is risen indeed!”

The traditional Christian Easter greeting celebrates the greatest truth believers know. But how often do we also focus on the agony that came before victory?

It’s Thursday. Jesus flinches as spittle splatters onto his face, and groans in pain as the crown of thorns is pressed into his forehead. The open gashes across his back attest to the whippings he has endured. His mother, Mary, is barely able to see above the rest of the crowd as she stands, watching while they nail her boy to a rough-hewn cross. Reaching out with her right arm, she forces her left hand to cover the scream that threatens to break out of her throat. She rocks back and forth, heart shredded. “My son. My son.”  Wanting to take his pain; unable to do so.

Later she kneels at the foot of the cross, wringing her hands, keening as she watches her son dying. Never has she felt so alone. Then John steps up and lays a hand on her shoulder. Mary looks up through tears to see that John, too, is suffering as he watches his Rabbi’s body being torn and bruised and broken. She sees Jesus look down on them both.

“Behold your mother,” he says to John.

And “Behold your son,” to Mary.

And after Jesus’ death, after they have buried him in a borrowed tomb, she goes home with John, who cares for her from then on.

There is so much agony in our world. On at least three of five days last week I read about another school shooting, a bombing during Easter celebrations, and a fired employee returning to the workplace to kill. I hurt because some people I love are going through physical, emotional or mental pain. A good friend with whom Don and I have ministered in Mexico for the past few years went in for what was thought to be a non-critical surgery, caught an infection and died. Wars and famine abound.

But, as an old song says, “Sunday’s comin’.”

Sunday, when Mary’s world, John’s world, our world, was changed forever because Jesus conquered death and, in so doing, gave those who believe, life eternal–and hope now!

Yes, sorrow is ever-present in our world. But there is a day coming when joy will be the light of our morning and the song we sing at night. The day when Jesus the Christ returns for his people, and sorrow will forever be forgotten; pain a thing of the past; and peace, justice and harmony will reign. What a day that will be!

I pray that if you are hurting, lonely, confused today, you will turn to the God who gave us Easter Resurrection; and the promise (and experience) of His presence with us in the sorrows and agony of today.

Sunday’s comin’!