He Called My Name

Image by Alexa from Pixabay

I recently detected possible symptoms of cancer in my right breast. The earliest appointment for my annual mammogram isn’t until the 12^th of May. An appointment with my physician isn’t available until the 5^th.

I stood in the master bathroom rubbing my temples, trying to figure out what to do if my cancer had returned. How was I going to manage another mastectomy while living alone, selling my house, and packing for my eventual move? If the house sold, where would I live while I underwent treatments? 

A voice called from the front room. “Marie!”

I answered without thinking. “What?”

Then, I remembered I was alone in the house.

But in case it was one of my neighbors, I hurried to the front room. Of course, there was no one there.

Chills ran up and down my arms. I definitely heard a voice, but that made no sense.

Unable to explain or rationalize the incident, I put it aside — until two scriptures popped up in my FB newsfeed when I opened the app. Jeremiah 29:11 and Ecclesiastes 3:1. Both verses had been in my recent devotions multiple times, and yet I didn’t take them to heart.

Jeremiah 29:11 “For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.”

Ecclesiastes 3:1: “For everything there is a season and a time for every matter under heaven.”

Although the verses seemed to refer to my current situation, I still didn’t take them as personal promises.

Looking for a distraction, I watched a movie. One of the characters quoted none other than Jeremiah 29:11.

Between my shouted name and the repetitions of the scriptures, I once again gave my concerns to God. My cancer symptoms disappeared. My realtor called with appointments for more showings. A few buyers indicated serious interest. Although, none have made an offer, I’m not worried. At least right now. I’m sure doubts and insecurities will raise their ugly heads again, but I have no doubt God will devise an amazing way to get my attention and reassure me he is still in control of my future.

Dear Lord, thank you for loving me enough to shout at me like the wayward child I am and reassure me I don’t need to fear the future. You are already there. Amen.

 

The Master of Unexpected Mercies

Image by tao cui from Pixabay 

I woke up at 3 am with desperate prayers on my lips. I prayed for Afghanistan, for persecuted Christians, for our country and our churches, and for the many victims of Covid-19. It has claimed and changed so many lives.

Jesus told us not to be anxious about anything, but it is hard not to be fearful for those in harm’s way, or not to feel deep sorrow over the loss of a loved one.

How to juggle all this with a loving God? I have no doubt He cares, yet I can’t seem to help being overwhelmed by all that’s going on.

Realizing my early morning wake up was the prompting of the Holy Spirit us to pray, I quite fretting over some lost sleep. Durning my prayers and devotions, another point came to mind.

God is the master of unexpected mercies. When it seems there is no way through a difficulty, He finds a way. We need to watch closely for His next miracle. It might even be today.

Those words reminded me again that being anxious serves no purpose except to keep me in a constant state of turmoil. 

Dear Lord, I pray for unexpected mercies for those in desperate need. Amen.

Bodyguard

Photo by Zachary Lisko @ Unsplash

For the last several days, an old scenario has resurfaced, being surrounded by imaginary bodyguards, beefy guys who mean business. What triggered this old survival technique? Perhaps the description of the woman’s attacker in the thriller I’m reading resembled my abusive ex-husband too close, or the scene held details too similar to my own experiences, or I may never know.

It was Sunday. I told my husband I was going to church with my parents.

I didn’t lie. I did go to church, but what I didn’t tell him, I wasn’t planning on coming home afterward. The previous night he had gone into a rage and held a pillow over my face until I stopped struggling.

Yet, even with all the abuse, I didn’t want a divorce. I wanted a loving husband and family. I begged God to change him.

In answer, I heard a voice. “He will never change and if you stay, you will be dead within the year.”

Terrified, I told my parents I was leaving my husband. Our pastor recommended my dad escort me to the house to pack some clothes. The boys and I would hide for several weeks until we could get legal protection in place.

My husband lay in bed the entire time I packed, not saying a word. It was more terrifying than if he’d screamed at me.

I risked a look back as we left the house. My husband sat on the roof holding a rifle across his lap. I still have no clue how he got up there without us seeing him.

My dad gestured for me to keep walking. That was the longest, scariest walk of my life, waiting for bullets to fly.

None came that day.

However, the stalking began immediately. He threatened me with guns and phone calls. He popped up in parking lots, outside my workplace, and in restaurants.

I’d see a police officer and have the urge to run to him and ask him to protect me.

With therapy, the panic attacks and nightmares receded. After I married my current husband, an active member of law enforcement at the time, the fears subsided a little more.

Usually once I figure out where the emotions are coming from, they go away. This morning, God added another layer of assurances during my devotions.

“Yea, the very hairs of your head are numbered. Fear not therefore: You are of more value than many sparrows.”

Fear not.

I’m trying.

I want to replace the images of burly bodyguards with sparrows. Well, maybe beefy guards with guns and sparrows nearby.

One day, I won’t need the imagery. One. Day. 

Reflections

Photo by Free-Photos from Pixabay

Several things have garnered my attention recently.

First, my son and daughter-in-law were evacuated from their home because of encroaching wildfires. We spent several anxious days waiting to hear if the house survived. Thank God, it did.

Thinking of their plight, I looked around my home. If I only had minutes to evacuate, what would I take with me? Clothes, old photos, important papers, and what else? We have some expensive art prints, my own paintings, and many collector’s items. We just purchased a new kitchen appliance, one I’ve wanted for a long time. It would be hard to leave it all behind.

My answer to this dilemma was in my devotions. The title in Good Morning, Lord by Joseph T. Sullivan: Can’t Live Without. “You can live without anything but God.”

Those simple words put everything into perspective.

My thoughts then fluttered to the violence occurring across our nation. I played out scenarios of what I would do or say to these hateful crowds. (If I dared.)

I wasn’t surprised when I opened my daily devotions in Living Faith. “How many times must I forgive my brother? Seventy times seven. Forgive, as you have been forgiven, free yourself from anguish.”

Rather than wishing revenge, what am I doing to help? Are my prayers enough? Should I become some sort of activist? But for which organization and where?

My morning devotions again told me the answer. The title in Our Daily Bread: Scaling. “Based on where you are, give generously.”

Don’t compare your giving to someone else’s. Give cheerfully where and how you can. Like rounding up my grocery tab to the nearest dollar and donating to the local food bank. Give a smaller amount to my church every Sunday rather than waiting to give a larger sum all at once. Help a neighbor without worrying about what they might do for me in return. Clean up after my husband without grumbling.

Most of all, I can pray for our country, my family, friends, and for those I disagree with. Not out of duty, but out of charity, love, hope, and faith.

“So faith, hope, love remain, these three, but the greatest of these is charity.” 1 Corinthians 12:31-13:13.

Thank you, Lord, for your guidance. You always know what I need at the exact moment I need it. Amen.

The Good Things of the Lord

Original Photo by Author

Bird song woke me before sunrise. It sounded like hundreds of birds in the tree outside my window. I slipped out of bed and peered out the blinds. Pale light illuminated three deer grazing on berries beneath the Hawthorn tree. Coyotes yipped further down the canyon. Cows called calves from the pasture below us. 

With all the noise, I'd never go back to sleep. I dressed quietly and snuck out of the bedroom. 

I let Cooper out the backdoor. Deer exploded in a blur of white tails and tawny backs. Birds drowned out the roar of the two creeks. No wonder they woke me.

An owl hooted from the grove of poplar trees to the west. Another answered.

It rained last night. The wet ground, sage, and pine trees scented the air with a tangy fragrance I could almost taste.

After several laps around the property, I called Cooper in, made coffee, lit a fire in the fireplace, and settled into my chair with my devotions and my bible. Over the last week my readings included the book of Daniel Chapter 3: Sidrach, Meshach, and Abednego. Fitting considering the current state of the world.

For the last few days, when I paged from the first readings, either Isaiah or Jeremiah, to the Psalms, my bible fell open to Tobias 5:13. “… Be of good courage, thy cure from God is at hand.” I pray that is so considering our current war against the virus.

But God’s encouragement didn’t stop there. Psalm 27:1-3, 13-14 was also listed in my readings for today.

“The Lord is my light and my salvation, whom shall I fear? The Lord is the protector of my life: of whom shall I be afraid? I believe to see the good things of the Lord in the land of the living. Expect the Lord, do manfully, and let thy heart take courage, and wait for the Lord.”

Do manfully: follow the guidelines of our health care professionals. Take courage: this will pass. Wait for the Lord: He never arrives too late.

We are seeing the good things in the land of the living now: the people flocking to assist, to help, to pray. Survivors, and there are many. Sunrises. Bird song. Rain. Sunshine. Rainbows.

Thank you, Lord.

It Made Me Angry - Justifed or Not?

My husband and I watched the movie, The Wind That Shakes the Barley, the story of two Irish brothers working for the IRA during the Irish War of Independence in the 1920s. The brutality of the period  made me angry.

After the film ended, I imagined suitable punishments for those who committed such horrendous injustices and senseless cruelty.

It was hours before I could let the anger go.

Later, after some thought, I realized the movie sparked flashbacks of the abuse I suffered from my ex-husband. I no longer have panic attacks, nightmares, or curl up in a ball in a corner, but the anger still simmers. I vowed to never, never let anyone abuse me or my kids again. Seeing brutality executed on others causes the same knee-jerk anger as if it was being done to me or a loved one.

Part of that is justified. After all, Jesus exhibited righteous anger when he turned over the money changer's tables. However, I discovered my error during my morning meditation and scripture reading.

Acts 16: 33: “These things I have spoken to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you shall have distress: but have confidence, I have overcome the world.”

Mary Marrocco in, Living Faith, added this: “He conquered the world by going toward it, not running away from it; by receiving all the violence, cruelty, and hypocrisy the world can spit out and not giving it back. Rather, he gives back love, peace, and forgiveness. Truly, this is the way our world is conquered.”

My fault lay in desiring revenge instead of justice.

This reminded me of another story.

A man stole blankets from a missionary hostel in China. When the theft was discovered, the woman proprietress went about her daily chores unfazed, even cheerful.

One patron, a Chinese man, asked her, “Are you not angry that the man stole your blankets?”

She shrugged. “He must need them more than we do. Besides, God will provide all we need, even more blankets.”

The man, astounded by her faith, converted to Christianity and became a minister.

God sees everything, and one day the perpetrators of hate and violence will stand before Him and answer for their sins. The judge in me rejoices at that thought, but the penitent wants God to forgive me of all my wrongdoing.

God forgives all sin, and we should also forgive the sinner, but that doesn't mean they, or us, should escape the consequences of our actions. According to our laws, prison is the consequence for harming someone else.

The next time my anger rises, I'll seek prayer first, trusting God will guide me as to when to take a stand, when to put up a fight, and when to stay on my knees. Only then do I have a chance for peace in this broken and brutal world.

Fear

Some people are afraid of spiders, black cats, ghosts, goblins, zombies, heights, or snakes. Some of these are legitimate fears, others irrational. I have my own mix of terrors. I never used to be scared of heights, but I am now. I don’t like spiders, but I’m not afraid of them. Same with snakes. I am terrified of grizzly bears and one other thing — death. But not my own.

After losing two husbands, I was terrified God would take my current one too soon. He’s healthy, and there is no indication his death was imminent, but I still worried.

In truth, I also worried about my son when he was first born. My brother died from SIDS at three months, and I agonized over the possibility my child would too. After the anniversary month passed, I relaxed, only to have that worry replaced by another. Even my brush with breast cancer was not as terrifying as my anxiety over losing my husband.

This changed last Sunday.

God used another series of odd coincidences to first get my attention and then remind me of His promise that my husband and I would grow old together. At the same time, I realized I was worrying about things out of my control. With that revelation, my apprehensions melted, vanished, disappeared.

I have not woken in the middle of the night to check on my husband’s breathing. When he slept late, I did not sneak into the room and watch for the rise and fall of his chest. His errands the other day ran longer than I expected, but I didn’t pace the floor wringing my hands, or stare out the window willing his truck to appear.

I know one day death will separate us for a time, but when it comes, God will already be there offering His comfort and His strength.

The Lord is my light and my salvation, whom [or what] shall I fear? The Lord is the protector of my life: of whom shall I be afraid?

I believe to see the good things of the Lord in the land of the living. Expect the Lord, do manfully, and let thy heart take courage, and wait thou for the Lord. 

I do believe. 

A Bump in the Road

We’ve all experienced them, those unexpected bumps that jar our otherwise smooth journey. Some just jostle us a little. Others knock us out of our seats, spin us around several times, and dump us upside down.

We sit stunned, dazed, and uncertain what to do. Are we still in the driver’s seat, or only a passenger? Are we even in the vehicle?

A jostle reminds us to pay attention and not become complacent of this gift of life. Major upsets force us to relinquish control, pause, and reflect. Do we wring our hands and cry? Or do we choose another reaction?

We have a light. It might be small at first, but as we hold it up and blow on the flame, it grows brighter and brighter. Its light might not show us the exact path we are to take, but it will be enough to see the next step, and the next.

Faith. We aren’t supposed to hide it under the bed, or in our pockets, only bringing it out when we are frightened. It is the light we should hold high as a guide for ourselves and those who follow.

I am not sure how far off track this new bump in my life has sent me sprawling. I am still in the initial, what-was-that, phase, but not alone. Friends and family have shouted encouragement, and my faith burns brighter.

The road will be rough, but God will show me the way as long as I trust Him. He will guide me over the hard places and carry me when I’m too tired to walk. Should I fall and lose my grip, I don’t need to fear. He won’t leave me alone in the dark, terrified. He’ll head up a search party.

“The Lord is my light and my salvation, whom should I fear? The Lord is the protector of my life, of whom should I be afraid?... I believe to see the good things of the Lord in the land of the living. Expect the Lord, do manfully, let thy heart take courage, and wait for the Lord.” Psalm 27: 1, 13-14.

What the Devil Doesn’t Want Us to Know

The Devil encourages us to cling to this life with a ferociousness capable of hurting, maiming, or even killing others. Even if we aren’t harming others to survive, we are praying fiercely to preserve our lives and those we love.

God answers our pleas to heal and protect, but selectively. Not everyone wins the heavenly lottery. We mourn for ourselves and for them. They will miss the family gatherings, watching loved ones grow, sunsets and sunrises, walks along the beach, Christmas and the Fourth of July. 

Or will they?

Last Christmas, God granted me a vision. As our pastor read the Gospel, I saw angels surrounding him with Jesus in their midst. The Church disappeared, replaced by my living room. I lay on the floor, dying. Jesus took my hand, lifted my spirit from my body, and with his arm around me, escorted me into Paradise.

I cannot describe what I saw, except to say there are wonders beyond our earthly senses waiting for us. 

With each exclamation of delight, Jesus responded with the same enthusiasm, much as a parent or older brother showing marvels to a younger sibling. 

The Devil doesn’t want me to remember that.

He prefers I worry and fret, believing there is nothing better than this flawed, sorrowful life, and I am an unredeemed, lost soul.

But I am saved, and I need not fear death and what waits for me beyond this life. God has prepared wonders beyond words to describe them. 

When a death occurs, I mourn for the ones left behind, suffering with the physical and emotional pain of separation.

But that’s not where it ends, as the Devil wants us to believe.

The separation is temporary, and our loved ones are not missing out - or suffering.

Accepting their absence does not mean I won’t continue to miss them, but rather than desiring they come back to earth, I will look forward to joining them. After all, God doesn’t want me to live in fear.

The Devil may not want me to know that, but God certainly does, and He will step in with compassionate encouragement through a scripture passage, a word from a friend, or a vision — and sometimes even a miracle. 

Wobbling

My husband and I have not lived in a house for more than three years. When he started looking at homes this spring, I set down parameters. The new home had to be spectacular — and our last — or I wasn’t budging. 

Well, I’ve agreed to move. He found our dream home, a little slice of country living close to amenities and lots of outdoor recreation — two hours and another city away. None of that mattered when I stepped inside. Home. The word settled in my heart. This would be our last move.

However, as the challenges of selling and buying rose, I wobbled, terrified we wouldn’t pull this one off. 

I turned to my devotions for encouragement.

Living Faith for July 14^th quoted Genesis 46:3. “God said to him [Jacob], I am the most mighty God of thy father: fear not, go down into Egypt, for I will make a great nation of thee there.”

Fitting words considering the new house is south of us. 

The devotion also listed Psalm 37: 3-4, 39-40: “Trust in the Lord, and do good, and dwell in the land, and thou shalt be fed with its riches. Delight in the Lord, and he will give thee the requests of thy heart… But the salvation of the just is from the Lord, and he is their protector in the time of trouble. And the Lord will help them and deliver them: and he will rescue them from the wicked, and save them, because they have hoped in him.”

Another reading quoted Psalm 91: 1-4, 14-15: “He that dwells in the aid of the most High, shall abide under the protection of the God of Jacob. He shall say to the Lord: Thou art my protector, and my refuge: my God, in him will I trust. For he hath delivered me from the snare of the hunters: and from the sharp word. He will overshadow thee with his shoulders: and under his wings thou shalt trust… Because he hoped in me I will deliver him: I will protect him because he hath known my name. He shall cry to me, and I will hear him: I am with him in tribulation, I will deliver him, and I will glorify him.”

If that wasn’t enough, the Gospel reading was from Matthew 10: 29-31: “Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? And not one of them shall fall on the ground without your Father. But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not therefore: better are you than many sparrows.”

In the future, I hope I won’t wobble when faced with a mountain of challenges, but the flesh is weak, no matter how determined the spirit. Thankfully, God has infinite patience, compassion, and resources to rescue me — even from myself.