Showing posts from February, 2011

A Companion to Grow Old With - Continued

My sister has a PhD in Experimental Psychology and by default has become our family advisor on a wide range of topics. “Let’s ask Becky” has become our mantra. She was my first phone call when all of the odd coincidences began.

“Interesting,” her code word for not enough data, please continue.

“So, you think God is promising me another companion? What about Sara’s seven husbands? Surely God doesn’t mean that literally?

“I do believe God is promising you a companion, but not seven of them. That is symbolic, but I’m not sure what the number seven symbolizes- the biblical sense. I haven't studied Numerology. All I can think of is Creation. Other than that I haven’t a clue.”

“I don’t know either – about the number seven – and to be honest, I am a little scared about trying another relationship. What if I get hurt again?”

“Do you really believe you will be?”

“Deep inside? No. But my rational brain keeps worrying about the ‘what ifs’.

“Listen to your heart, Marie. No, better yet, li…

A Companion To Grow Old With

There would be no last minute cure, no miracle. Shannon was dying. I fell to my knees.

“Lord, why aren’t three enough? Why can’t I keep this husband?”

At that exact moment the narrator on the audio book said, “Don’t you know four completes the circle?”

No. Impossible. It was just a random comment from an audio book. Even if it was meant for me, what were the chances of finding another good man? I had already found two. Impossible.

The next day my daily devotions included Luke 1:37: For nothing is impossible with God.
I still refused to believe God was giving me the promise of another companion. I was convinced I would indeed spend the rest of my life alone, but God had a different plan.

For the next seven days, as I paged from one listed reading to the next, my bible fell open to the Book of Tobias, Chapter 10 – the wedding of Sara and Tobias. Sara was married seven times. Each of her husbands was killed by a demon on their wedding night. Sara, naturally distraught, believed she w…

The Bus

I dreamed I was riding in a bus careening down a forest road. It was late afternoon, the sun sat low on the horizon and the thick timber cast long shadows across the road. The alternating patches of light and shadow created an effect similar to that of a strobe light, mesmerizing, hypnotic. I watched, fascinated, until the patterns of light and shadow flew by at an alarming rate of speed.

I looked toward the front to see who the maniacal driver was. There was none. The seat was empty. I tried to go to the front, but I was unable to move into the aisle. Some unseen force held me back. All of my family was also riding the bus. I begged each of them to take the wheel, but they too were held in place.

“Dear Lord, save us!”

He answered, “I will – in time.”

Determined to trust Him, I turned back to the side window. We were moving so fast the trees were just a blur. I looked out the front window. The road ended abruptly at the edge of a steep cliff.

I begged God to save us.

He answered.…


Over the course of seven consecutive days my bible fell open to Tobias 11: 12 -14 -Tobias is cured of his blindness. It was obvious it had a message for me, but I did not understand exactly what it was.  What “blindness” was the passage referring to – mine or someone else’s? I puzzled over it for months without any clear revelation.

Then one morning my bible fell open to Tobias 14: 1-4:

And the words of Tobias were ended. And after Tobias was restored to his sight, he lived two and forty years, and saw the children of his grandchildren. And after he had lived a hundred and two years, he was buried honorably in Nineveh. For he was six and fifty years old when he lost the sight of his eyes, and sixty when he recovered it again. And the rest of his life was in joy and with great increase of the fear of God he departed in peace.

I was fifty-six the first time I read the passage, and needless to say the coincidence caught my attention. Obviously I was the “blind” one. But what was my “b…

Chief Joseph


I had another dream. Our family was on vacation, traveling through a mountainous region of steep, timbered hills. It was beautiful country and I remarked it looked more like a park than a wilderness.

After several hours of winding road we needed to stretch. A sign announced a historical site and we pulled into the wayside. The large parking area was unpaved and edged by a low stone wall. It did little but warn the visitor of the thousand foot drop on the other side.

Danielle, aged six, ran up from behind, dodged around me and headed toward the wall.  I yelled for her to stop, but she ignored me and kept on running. Just like in a horror movie, she tripped and fell. I threw myself forward, but was too late. Only the tips of my fingers brushed hers. For a moment, she hug suspended in mid air, her eyes clearly reflecting her terror. Slowly she fell away and disappeared into the rocks and trees thousands of feet below.

I collapsed in tears, my body shaking with grief. I heard a…

Be Careful What You Pray For

 The fresh dug grave was somewhere in front of me. I couldn’t see but sky and a few inches of ground next to my feet, certainly not enough to keep me from falling into the pit. I calculated the distance back to the truck, too far to make it back. My arms were already shaking from effort. It was better to keep moving forward. I tried shifting the box to increase my vision, but it was too large, and too heavy.

My first graveside floral delivery – alone. I always had assistance before, either from my staff or from the mortuary. This time I arrived before the funeral director and there were not any grounds keepers in sight. With time sensitive deliveries waiting I had no choice but to carry the casket piece - on the large delivery box - by myself. Too late I realized I did not have the upper body strength to lower the box without dumping the arrangement and breaking all the long rose stems. Adding to my anxiety was the disconcerting news one of the funeral directors had fallen into an…

The Lottery

We were barely scraping by and I couldn’t help but think, if we just had a little more money, not a million, just a few thousand, it would be so much easier. I thought about the Lottery.
I grabbed my purse, intent on purchasing a ticket while at the market. Even though the odds were horrific, someone was going to win, right? On the way to the door I passed my Bible. Compelled to stop, I open it and read the first passage I saw. It was from the Book of Wisdom.

Pray for wisdom as if it were money.
I didn’t buy the Lottery ticket.


Finances were very tight. In fact to use a euphemism coined by my mother-in-law, we were squeezing nickels tight enough to make the buffalo poop, and we were still struggling.
Not every bill could be paid. We made a list of the most important expenses: mortgage, groceries, clothing, and gas. Health insurance was no longer an option. I had to trust God that we would remain healthy and accident free until we could have coverage again. This was a great plan until the care insurance came due. There wasn’t enough money. Either it would be insurance or groceries.

I set the bill aside, praying some kind of miracle would happen before our ten day grace period expired. The ninth day dawned. No miracle. Not even a glimmer.

My morning readings included Luke 12: 22-30:

Don’t be anxious about what you are to eat, or drink, or how you are to be clothed. God knows you have need of these things….Consider the lilies of the field. They neither reap nor sow, and yet not even Solomon in all of his glory…

You Will Never Look at the Stars Alone

Through a dream, a premonition, I was told my husband would leave me. After seventeen years of marriage, our relationship would end. I knew the time frame, just not how it would happen.
As detailed as a photograph or postcard, the dream opened with a view of a lodge, set on a small hill, surrounded by dense timber and constructed of whole pine logs. A creek meandered through a meadow below the main building, paralleled by a foot path dotted with wooden benches and small arched bridges. Judging from the cold air and the patches of snow lying under the trees, I surmised the time frame was late February or early March.

Ron and I strolled along the trail to one of the bridges, stopping in the center to gaze up at the night sky.  Millions upon millions of stars stretched from horizon to horizon.

Ron turned to me. “Marie, I have to leave and you can’t come with me.”

“What do you mean, ‘I can’t come with you’?”

He didn't answer. Instead he turned and walked over to a side road and boa…