Six Months

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Even during the hard times, time passes faster than you expect. It’s already been six months since my husband passed. I thought the day would bring an onslaught of tears, but not so far. My mind is busy with my to-do List and Cooper, my Brittany, wants to play and cuddle. Those ease my heartache and loneliness.

Last night I visited my son and his family. My two granddaughters both hugged me and told me how much they love me. That moment will stay with me for the rest of my life.  

Not only that, but it seems that on every trip to the grocery store I end up in conversation with another woman.

Last week, as I passed the jams and jelly section, I overheard a woman mutter, “I don’t need three jars of jam.”

I paused at the ache in her voice.

I asked, “Is the reason you don’t need three jars the same reason I don’t either?”

“Yes.”

“How long has it been?”

She answered, “Four years.”

“Almost six months for me.”

“You know what I miss the most?”

“What?”

She held out her arms. “Hugs.”

I didn't hesitate to hug her back.  

Only God could orchestrate two widows meeting in the jam aisle and exchanging hugs.

God is with me no matter where I am or what I’m doing.

“…for he himself has said, “I will never leave you or forsake you.” Hebrews 13:5.

“Dear Lord, I am forever grateful. Amen.”

 

Spiritual Gems

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A few spiritual insights I'd not considered before...

We are but dust, blades of grass, withering and dying, blowing away in the wind. But for Jesus Christ. Through him we have eternal life, no longer susceptible to death. Amen!

Worry means we don’t trust God, doubting He has the power and the will to provide for us. Sorrow is different. We may sorrow through suffering and tribulations and yet still trust God with the outcome.

Yes, we should pray over everything. By not praying, we depend on our strength, not God’s. We know where we should place our hope and trust, and it’s not with ourselves.

The glory of the Lord is like the appearance of a rainbow on a rainy day.

God is like sweet cold water to a parched tongue. He fills our parched souls with compassion, mercy, and hope. Hope is like cold water to the thirsty soul. It revives one caught in the desert of suffering. Be like a drink of cold water to other thirsting souls.

In the story of the woman taken in adultery, the Pharisees knew Jesus had only two ways to respond, and both were wrong. If Jesus excused the woman’s sin, he denied Moses’s law that a woman caught in adultery was to be stoned to death. That choice would mark Him as a false prophet. His second choice was to stone the woman, but then he’d run afoul of Roman law. Only the Romans had the legal right to execute. However, being God, He chose a third option. He turned the situation into an examination of the religious leaders instead of the woman, and they walked away, leaving her untouched.

Evil will continue to grow until Christ comes. Until then, we are to continue in our faith, trusting all things to God.

In turn, do I love God as much as He loves me? Enough to die to self and bend to His will?

We aren’t saved because of our good works, but we are saved to do good works.

Dear Lord, thank you for sharing your wisdom through Scripture and wise teachers. They enrich my life, giving me guidance on how to live in this trouble filled world. Amen. 

 

 

 

 

 

The Shortcut That Wasn’t

Photo by Sasan Hezarkhani on Unsplash

My dad was famous for his shortcuts. They usually took far longer than the traditional route and we teased him at every opportunity. We later learned his not so short shortcuts were more of the scenic variety than a shorter route, which was his intention all along. However, others, including Google, said the cutoff through Christmas Valley was shorter than the route we normally took to my hometown in southern Oregon. What they didn’t say was that while it was shorter in miles it was not shorter in time.

The road wound through beautiful mountains covered in pine and fir trees and peppered with rich green valleys. Bare of all habitation. Not realizing there were no amenities once we left Burns, Oregon, we didn’t bother with stopping for a meal. We had snacks, but those only go so far.

About halfway to our next turnoff, we found a small convenience store. As my husband climbed out of the truck, his legs buckled. Thank goodness he caught himself. If he had fallen, I would never have gotten him back on his feet without help. At 79 years old, his joints stiffened if he sits for too long. Even with frequent breaks, our long trip took a toll on his older body.

By the time we reached our hotel at 9 pm, twelve hours from the time we left home, my husband was incoherent and unsteady on his feet. I recognized the signs of low blood sugar and urged him back out to the truck. At that late hour, there wasn’t a lot of food choices around the hotel, either tacos or hamburgers. At least the latter had enough carbs and protein to bring his blood sugar back up to normal levels.

The next morning, we felt like we had hangovers, but we couldn’t sleep in and rest. I had to be at the church by 9:30 am to help with the setup for my mother’s memorial service.

Although the reason for our gathering was sorrowful, it produced a miracle.

Due to some misunderstandings, my three kids have been estranged for years. I have prayed for years for a reconciliation. As I descended the church steps, I witnessed my eldest son and my daughter embrace. During the luncheon, all three of my kids sat together with their spouses. This miracle brought more joy than I can describe. Sorrow brought us together, but joy left with us.

My dad’s penchant for scenic drives had a purpose, as did God’s delayed answer to my prayers. Without the experiences we encounter on the way, we would not be prepared for the joy at the end of our journey.

With God, a patient wait often leads to a happy ending. Amen.  

 

When I Walked with Sorrow

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I have to admit, after enduring heartaches, prayer comes more naturally, more of a conversation with my Heavenly Father than prayer. I count my blessings, taking none of them for granted. I rely on God first, rather than myself, turning to prayer before anything else.

Sorrow has also given me more understanding and compassion for those living through similar situations. One devotional suggested those who have gone before should reach back and offer encouragement to those behind them. We didn’t walk those dark paths and deep canyons of heartache alone, and neither will they. Jesus promised he’d never leave us or forsake us.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 emphasizes that everything has its own time appointed by God. A time for joy and a time for sorrow. A time to plant and a time to pluck up that which is planted. I’m fortunate to be in a time of joy and a time of planting.

I don’t doubt I will walk with sorrow again. But until then, I am thankful for the blessings of this moment.

My heart and prayers go out to those who are experiencing hardship and sorrow. May God bless them with strength. May he send encouragers. Amen.

 

 

Extraordinary Sacrifices

Our pastor read from the Book of Ruth last Sunday. He spoke of ordinary kindness, which we call politeness, and extraordinary kindness, like Ruth showed to Naomi. In Ruth’s case, God returned her sacrifice with a loving husband in Boaz. That bit of scripture reminded me of my own hard sacrifice.

Being widowed once was rough, twice was unfathomable. But God asked me if I’d be willing. It wasn’t that a hard of a choice. After all, if you love someone, you don’t stop just because things get hard.

Yes, I could have refused and let Shannon suffer through the treatments alone, but I couldn’t do that. He had no one else to care for him through the surgery and radiation treatments, and to take care of his personal and financial needs. My dad was particularly worried about the latter, my being burdened with massive medical bills.

In honesty, Shannon’s doctors believed his treatments put his brain cancer in remission and he’d live for years before it came back. Even so, I knew I’d eventually lose him to the disease. That didn’t stop me from accepting his proposal. I loved him.

Not knowing how much time we had, I memorized every gesture, the way he walked, talked, laughed. I wanted to hold each memory close, saving them for the tough times yet to come.

We married in September.

Shannon’s scans in October were clear, no sign of the cancer, and we celebrated his remission. However, he suffered a grand mal seizure in November. A brain scan showed the cancer had come back and had taken one third of his brain. His oncologist had never seen a cancer turn that aggressive. Shannon passed away six weeks later, three months after our marriage.

I won’t deny it was hard. Especially since it had only been three years since I’d lost my second husband. I was only 48, divorced once, and widowed twice. It seemed I would spend the rest of my life alone.

Did I regret my choices? No. Was I angry? No. Sad, yes. Hurt, yes. Lonely, yes. But I wasn’t alone. God had promised after my second husband had passed away, I’d never look at the stars alone. (See:  You Will Never Look at the Stars Alone) He kept that promise then, and He would keep it now too.

Through a series of coincidences, visions, and dreams, God told me He would grant my prayer for a companion to grow old with in health. My current husband is the fulfillment of that promise. As of this writing, we have been married twenty-one years and counting.

As I reflected on our pastor’s words, God granted me another vision. I saw Jesus walk down the aisles of the sanctuary and touch each parishioner on the shoulder, infusing us with the Holy Spirit. Fitting since it was Pentecost and that through the Holy Spirit, we find the courage and strength to accept the extraordinary sacrifices God asks of us.

How about you? Was there a time when God called on you to make an extraordinary sacrifice?

Dear Lord, life may be hard at times, but if I put my trust in You, it is also filled with much joy. Amen.

If I Hadn't ...

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If I hadn’t gone through years of domestic violence, a rough divorce, and buried two husbands, would I appreciate my current husband and happy marriage as much as I do?

If I hadn’t suffered several life-threatening illnesses, would I be as thankful for my present good health?

If I hadn’t struggled with years of financial difficulties, would I appreciate my current financial stability?

If I hadn’t worked at several stressful jobs, would I appreciate and enjoy my retirement as much?

Without God’s compassion and support, could I see the world as a wonderful place filled with miracles?

Rainbows come after a storm. Silence is more noticeable after loud noises. Joy is more recognizable after sorrow, health after illness, wealth after poverty.

Through these, God has taught me where true happiness lies — in the simple things: coffee at sunrise with my devotions, chatting with my husband, walking with Cooper in the early morning and at sunset, keeping in touch with friends and family, and the time and ability to pursue my passions.

I think of Israel Kaʻanoʻi Kamakawiwoʻole’s hit song, Somewhere Over the Rainbow. He combines Somewhere Over the Rainbow with What a Wonderful World, two of my favorite songs. They represent every blessing God has given me — the things most precious in this life.

As Melanie Rigny wrote in Living Faith, “What do you want to present when you face the Lord: a list of what you owed, or a list of whom you loved?”

I am included in that list. Have I forgiven myself as I have forgiven others? Have I cared for my needs? Have I allowed myself to rest?  Have I given myself permission to be happy?  

Thank you, Lord, for leading me through life's difficulties toward true happiness, which includes loving myself. My joy overflows and spreads out to others, enveloping them in the same love you give me. Amen.

Stretching Forward

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The devil slinks in and whispers lies when we are the most vulnerable. “No one likes you. You’re rude, selfish, and self-absorbed. Remember what you did back in 1971?”

And on go his accusations.

He wants us to weep for things lost, hang our head with remorse for every mistake we’ve made, and continue yearning for things that might have been, but cannot be. This keeps us from focusing on God and his eternal, unbroken love for us. The devil doesn’t want us to accept God’s forgiveness and move closer to Him. He wants us to remain broken, sorrowing, hopeless.

A death in the family is a low point. Not only do we sorrow for the one we lost, we are acutely reminded of our own mortality, especially if we too are in our so-called golden years. There is more behind us than ahead. At least that is what the devil wants us to believe.

That may be true of life here on earth, but not so of our next life. It goes on for eternity and in less vulnerable moments, we remember that.

St. Paul has a remedy. “For one thing I do: forgetting the things that are behind and stretching forth myself to those that are before.” Phil 3:13.

I like the imagery of stretching forward rather than leaning backward. No one cares what mistake I made back in 1971, especially God. “As far as the east is from the west, so far hath he removed our iniquities from us.” Psalm 103:12.

The only exception to looking back is counting all of God’s miracles in our lives, recounting our blessings, and remembering loved ones.

Otherwise, as St. Paul also stated, “Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith.”

Stretching, reaching, moving forward with our eyes fixed on God and everything else falls into place. Sounds like a life well lived.

The Best Fix for a Broken Heart

God did not promise us a life without suffering. Quite the opposite as he commanded that we take up our cross and follow him.

However, he didn’t leave us alone to flounder in our agony. He gave us the blueprint for joy amid our sorrows. This popped up in my memories on Facebook this morning. 

It seems life often spirals in circles with old wounds reopened long after you thought they had healed. In truth, we bear the scars of many wounds, and the right circumstances can open them again.

I had already vowed to put others before myself before I read this reminder. God merely confirmed my plan in His usual manner, a personal message where and when I least expect it.

So, in response to a fresh wave of sorrow, I am doubling my efforts to be a better wife, mother, and friend, putting others first. It will work. When we focus outside ourselves, our sorrows fade to the background.

Isn’t this what Christ told us to do? “For the first will be last and the last will be first.” “Love your neighbor as yourself.”

Then he led by example, sacrificing himself for our us.  

 

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. 

The Other Woman

In 2 Kings 4:8-37, death claims a woman's only son. Reading about her grief dredged up memories of my husband’s death. I spent months languishing in sorrow, wishing God had taken me too. 

Unlike this woman's son, God didn't send a prophet to raise my husband from the dead. In fact, my husband returned in a dream. He told me to let him go. My tears and pleas would not bring him back. 

The following day, I made an appointment for a  haircut and dragged myself out of the house.  

The woman in the next chair was complaining about her house renovations. “After all the money we’ve spent redoing the kitchen, the new counter tops don’t match my decor. The contractor insists that’s what we ordered and refuses to change it. It makes me ill to think of shelling out more money to replace them, but I can’t go into the kitchen without bursting into tears.”

After just losing my husband of seventeen years and becoming the sole proprietor of a small business, as well as a single parent, her problem seemed shallow in comparison and I never forgot the conversation.

Now, twenty years later, my current husband and I have listed our house for sale. To my horror, I have become that woman, whining and complaining about small annoyances while others are dealing with horrific problems. How easy it is to lose perspective, caught up in the mundane and often ordinary aspects of our micro-worlds, blowing inconveniences into major tragedies. 

Life can change in a single breath. 

Worrying, even over big things, accomplishes nothing except robbing us of today’s blessings. It is a better use of our energy to be thankful for what we have and to pray for those who are not so lucky.  

Forgive me, Lord, for focusing on my small problems while others suffer. Open my heart, encourage generosity and compassion instead of shallow pleas for personal gifts. Amen.

I Believe

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Easter. Jesus has risen. We’ve heard that over and over again. We’ve read the scriptures. We’ve attended the sunrise services. But there is more. 

I am re-posting this for those who may need to read it again, and for those who might not have seen it. It bears repeating, time and again. 

The Resurrection is real. Jesus is real. He is not the figment of anyone’s imagination. I know. I’ve seen him. 

It happened on Palm Sunday. It was one of those lazy mornings.  I sat at the kitchen table enjoying my coffee, and a rare moment of quiet. Everyone else was asleep, even the dog and our three cats. Peace. 

Rather than disrupt it, I decided not to rouse everyone for church. Instead, I would read the scripture of the Passion and meditate.

This time, the often-read words took on a personal meaning. God didn’t die for faceless mankind. He died for me. For my sins. In my place. Willingly. I laid my head on the table and wept. 

Why Is It Sometimes So Dark?

There have been times when I have been plunged into a soul piercing darkness. Every miss-deed, every wrongly spoken word, every good deed left undone, every bad choice, crushed me beneath a heavy weight of conviction.  This darkness of the soul isn't rare, as many of you may attest to, and in fact, I have read of numerous holy men and women who have endured this agony, most recently Mother Teresa. However, knowing it isn't unusual doesn't lessen the pain.

I wonder if this is what Jesus felt on the cross? Except His experience was to the tenth power of my pitiful emotions. This isolation from the world, weighed down with the conviction of so much wrong doing is almost unbearable, and yet, this brief glimpse of despair gives me some insight to those who take extreme measures to stop the pain by taking their own life. Their pain must indeed be horrific. Knowing this much pain without the saving grace of faith is indeed dark despair from which there would be no rescue. If only they knew to reach out, to ask for help with the faith to believe it would be given. 

I am blessed with faith, and faith tells me to hang on because after the night comes the dawn. This heavy burden will lift and I will once again dance in the sunlight, a joyful daughter of a compassionate God, and reason tells me this darkness has been prepped and stoked by fatigue from the rigors of moving, new training at the job, uncertainty regarding my financial future, and unsettling world events. These factors pounced the moment I was vulnerable, when I was too weak to offer a suitable defense. I cannot expel them on my own. I do not need to. I do not need to rely on my strength. I have a heavenly Father with more than enough strength and power to dispel the darkness.

Yet, this darkness does have a purpose, as my reading in Streams in the Desert points out. In order to be a Comforter, you must first endure great sorrow. "You will be wounded so that in the binding up of your wounds by the Great Physician, you may learn how to render first aid to the wounded everywhere." Without experiencing this darkness, I would never know how to offer the Light to others. After all, Jesus suffered first, and through His suffering He fully understands our suffering, as both man and God, and so, I accept my lesson, and I will wait patiently for my healing, which will come.

This morning, Good Morning, Lord, by Joseph T. Sullivan has this:

Good Morning, Lord.

Help me not to look back at my sins-

  you know how many they are!

I know that once I recognize the error,

  correct it and make amends,

  I'm supposed to move on,

  toward better and greater things.

Brooding, feeling sorry for myself, scolding myself

  are unproductive and silly.

They fail to recognize your merciful forgiveness,

  your unmistakable love for me.

Hey! What mistakes? This is a brand new day.

I'm on your side, Lord,

  and you're on mine. Amen.

 

The blackness has lifted. The dawn exploding just beyond the window in our new home is as brilliant as a sunset. Hundreds of ducks and geese are flying overhead, silhouettes against a blue and gold sky. This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it." Psalm 118:24.  Amen!