by April | Jun 12, 2011 | Encouragement, Immune Deficiency, Uncategorized
I’m noticing two reoccurring themes in my life in the past three years: serious illness and the encouraging words of others telling me not to quit, to keep on praying and trust in God’s providence.
First, it was my son, then my husband (who are both doing very well now) and this year it’s my turn. Although, all in all, I’d rather have been skipped. I’ve recently been diagnosed with an immune deficiency. I’ve had it all my life—often sick throughout childhood into adulthood—but it wasn’t until this year it really clobbered me. This is typical of genetic immune disorders. That doesn’t make me feel any better, but it adds clarity!
I have to admit there’s been many times in the past few months when I have been at the end of my rope, unable to think clearly, suffering from severe fatigue, fevers and exhaustion and feeling not only useless—but worthless. Those are lies of the enemy, but it’s hard to look up when you are feeling like that.
Every time I’ve felt like I just can’t deal with it any more, someone comes alongside me, get’s in my face (in a loving way) and tells me not to quit, not to give up and keep praying. The timing has always been perfect—when I most need to hear it. Just recently one of my doctors really gave me the pep talk I needed. She looked me in the eyes and said, “You’re a mess, but I’m going to tell you something. Don’t give in to this, don’t give up, keep going, don’t quit—and pray!”
I believe God is sovereign, but illness and circumstances can cloud me from seeing His presence. When I remember to look for those moments, I find many throughout my life (see previous post Picket Fences). But when I’m down, I don’t remember them well.
Lately though, I feel like God is going out of His way to remind me I’m not alone. Through His Word, through friends speaking words of encouragement, through the occasional song on the radio—these reminders that I should keep going when I most want to quit are everywhere. When I see His encouragement, I’m humbled. He’s not distant, watching me suffer—He’s right here, holding me up, giving me strength to face the day.
Psalm 46:1 God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.
John 16:33 I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.
1 Thessalonians 5:11 Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing.
by April | Apr 29, 2011 | Encouragement
White picket fences often symbolize the American dream of owning a home; they might bring cozy feelings or fond memories. But, I have a different sort of memory when I look at them.
When I was a kid, I was a fairly good kid, but I made some mistakes. Like the time when I stayed over at a friend’s house, and we snuck out. For some reason we got it into our heads that it’d be really cool to spray paint stuff. Now, before you start shaking your head at me, please know I am NOT proud of this moment in my life.
Our paint color of choice was silver, for no other reason than it stood out as we scrounged in her mom’s storage closet. After midnight, we climbed out of her bedroom window and slunk off in the dark to make our mark on the world. I was 13.
First, we sprayed our names on the sidewalk (I didn’t say we were smart about this). Then we colored some bushes that took on an alien-like glow under the moonlight. As we ran around the corner snickering from the brilliance of it all, we spied just the thing we’d been looking for: A white picket fence. We proceeded to paint ever other picket with a silver circle. Just as we finished our work, the porch light came on and we tore off up the street, panting in fear. By the time we’d reached her house though, the fear was gone, and even the excitement of our evil deed had dwindled. I climbed back through her window, into my sleeping bag and never gave it another thought. At least not for several years.
Three years later, my parents bought a house. It was the first house I’d lived in since I was a baby, our having rented until then. We got all moved in and were taking stock of a few maintenance things that needed doing. My mom stepped outside to the front sidewalk and I heard her exclaim, “Who in the world would paint silver circles on a white fence?”
Until that moment, I had not given one thought to my little painting excursion. I froze, my heart beating wildly in my chest. How likely was it that we’d buy the house I’d defaced? I mean, really? My mom called me outside, and as I strode through the gate, all time stopped. Yep. The fence.
I’m not sure of the exact words right now, but our conversation went something like this:
“I mean, who would do that?” She pointed to some faded dots.
I swallowed hard. “I did.”
“What?” My mother’s eyes went from disbelief, to shock, to shame. And I shrank about four feet as I admitted what I’d done. Before she doled out punishment for my crime, I came up with a solution.
“I’ll repaint it.”
While I painted, I considered what transpired. It wasn’t just chance that in the whole town, we’d bought this house. I knew that, deep down. I had been given a opportunity to make things right, to confess my sin and ask for forgiveness. And I learned another lesson that day—God knows all, sees all and wants us to know that. I learned I was accountable for the things I did, even the things I thought I’d done in secret.
When I look at picket fences, instead of feeling guilt, I’m assured. God cares for me—enough not to let me get away with something I shouldn’t have, enough to want a relationship with me, enough to remind me that no matter what is happening in my life, good or bad, He knows. What a comfort that is.
Psalm 139: 1-6 You have searched me, LORD, and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar.You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways.Before a word is on my tongue you, LORD, know it completely. You hem me in behind and before,and you lay your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain. (Read the full text here.)
by April | Apr 21, 2011 | Easter, Encouragement, Immanuel
The other day I saw a photo of my sister-in-law’s recently rescued dog looking devotedly up into the face of his new owner. In the dog’s eyes, I could clearly see devotion and loyalty, but there was also something else: gratefulness. He was grateful to be chosen and rescued from a life of neglect, starvation and probably death.
I’ve seen the same thing in my rescue cat’s golden eyes. His gaze follows me whenever I pass through the room. He waits to see if I’ll come and pet him, and often times he’ll jump down from wherever he is and rub against my legs. He was near death when we took him in from the cold, and ever since he’s looked at me with that same devotion. We’ve had him five years now, and he still follows me with those attentive eyes wherever I go. I find his devotion sweet…except in the middle of the night when he gets chatty.
It’s Easter, and we’ve been reading about Jesus suffering, burial, and resurrection. It’s something we do every year, to remember the final sacrifice for sin to bridge the gap between our sinful selves and God. He paid the price for anyone who asks. I was raised in the church, prayed for forgiveness and accepted Jesus as my savoir at the age of ten. So, I’ve heard the story countless times. I have to admit, sometimes I take for granted that God is there, and that, because of what Jesus did, I have a direct line to Him.
Seeing the dog’s eyes, that look, reminded me that God rescued me from a life separate from Him. That he chose to save us, to save me—He didn’t have to. He rescued me from a life without purpose; a life of potential loneliness and helplessness; a life of complete separation from Him, and eventually death.
The photo made me ponder. Do I look to God with the same adoration that my cat gives me? Do I give Him, who is completely worthy, my full attention? I confess—I don’t. I get caught up in the trials of my life, and don’t appreciate the life bought for me by Jesus’ sacrifice. I forget He’s there for me, in good times and bad. Truly, He not only deserves my devotion, He desires a relationship with me. That very thought is mind blowing, and life altering.
I hope this Easter you’ll take time to remember the sacrifice made for you, and look with wonder and devotion at the Father who, through His Son, and made a way to rescue you.
Romans 5:6-8 You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous person, though for a good person someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us. (Read the full text here.)
John 3:16-21 For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him. Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe stands condemned already because they have not believed in the name of God’s one and only Son. This is the verdict: Light has come into the world, but people loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil. Everyone who does evil hates the light, and will not come into the light for fear that their deeds will be exposed. But whoever lives by the truth comes into the light, so that it may be seen plainly that what they have done has been done in the sight of God. (Read the full text here.)
by April | Mar 26, 2011 | Encouragement, Uncategorized
I’ve always like Impressionist paintings. Several years ago, I had the opportunity to see a display of Monet’s paintings at the Portland Art Museum. I’d been an admirer for years, but seeing them in person amazed me. There almost wasn’t enough room to see them properly–to see them best, it’s at a distance. Up close, the paintings looked like nothing more than a disorganized mass of dabbed earthy colors, blending reds, oranges, purples, greens and blues. But at a distance, the dots and dabs of color separated into wonderful forms and shapes delineating lily pads, bridges, and groups of picnickers all washed in an otherworldly light.
In my last blog, I mentioned my husband was unexpectedly looking for work–and although we were surprised, God wasn’t. In the midst of all of that I had doctor appointments and specialist appointments (you know how hard it is to get in with a specialist) and didn’t know if I could keep them all if we had to change insurance companies. God provided another job in a week’s time, with the same contracting company at the same rate and insurance, so nothing had to change at all. Except where my husband goes to work.
Loss of employment, poor health, troubling relationships–all these things can blindside me and draw my focus on the little dabs, not on God’s big picture for my life. They can tempt me to fear and worry, to feel helpless and out of control. But, if I remember to take a step back, pray and let go of my own expectations and trust in my Father’s, then it becomes clear. I might not know the reason for it all now, but one day it will all be made complete. I look forward to that day.
1 Corinthians 13: 8-12 Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when completeness comes, what is in part disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me. For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. (Full text HERE)
by April | Feb 27, 2011 | Encouragement, Thankfulness
The other morning I heard my husband going in and out the front door. Which was odd, as the clock said 5AM, and he wasn’t supposed to be up yet. I went to see if what I suspected might have happened HAD happened. Yep, it was snowing. We don’t get snow very often in the valley we live in—I think we’re at 150 ft above sea level, so it’s an event when we do get it. In fact, the town kind of shuts down if we get over an inch.
I smiled as I watched him take a photo of the snow swirling down past the orange tinted streetlight. The sound-dampening effects of the snow magnified the stillness wrapping around the neighborhood at that hour. There is no other word than peaceful to describe it. I waved at him, glad to be warm and cozy inside, and raced back to bed.
At that point, I have to admit, I was a bit tempted to wake up the kids. They rarely get to play in the snow. But, I knew if I did, there’d be no going back to sleep. I needed rest to recuperate from illness, and they had been up way too late the night before. I betted on the cold to keep the snow on the ground until they woke up, and then cuddled back down under the covers glad to keep the secret for a couple more hours.
As I began to fall back asleep, something dawned on me. I knew that in few hours my children would be bundled into snow clothes, outside making snowmen and having snowball fights. But I also knew it was in everyone’s best interest that they NOT know what was coming so we’d all get some much needed rest.
How many times have I wished God would let me know what was coming, begged for a Post-It note, a tiny memo? That’s when it settled on me. Like my children unknowingly slumbering in bed, it’s probably for the best I don’t know what’s coming. If it’s positive news, then I’d be so focused on that, I’d miss the good happening around me now. And if it’s bad news, then I’d be so consumed with what was coming, I’d lose the joy I had in my life, living every day in dread.
That message replayed itself in my head this week when we discovered that my husband’s work contract is ending almost two months earlier than it was supposed to. Apparently there was a miscommunication between his contracting company and us—their goof. So, now, he has two weeks to get another contract, instead of 2 months. But I have to remember, while we might be surprised, God isn’t. God knew what was going to happen, and we fully trust He has a plan for our future. Knowing that the Lord of all creation holds us in His hands brings me great comfort.
Psalm 37: 23-24 The LORD makes firm the steps of the one who delights in him; though he may stumble, he will not fall, for the LORD upholds him with his hand.
Psalm 139: 1-6 You have searched me, LORD, and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue you, LORD, know it completely. You hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain. (Read full passage HERE)
I’m noticing two reoccurring themes in my life in the past three years: serious illness and the encouraging words of others telling me not to quit, to keep on praying and trust in God’s providence.
