How Can I Rejoice?

Life is really hard. So many difficult questions remain unanswered. Why did innocent children and teachers die at school? Why were people killed while watching a movie? Why are people starving? Why does war rage around the world? Scenes of anger, fear, and hopelessness dominate the news. 

Trials have hit my family this year. Alan’s daughter died too young. The pulmonologist somberly told us that Alan’s lung disease was getting worse. Mother continues to deal with complicated health issues after weeks in the hospital and rehab. A cousin just had surgery for cancer. Several friends are in treatment for cancer. Right before Christmas, my dad’s sister died. Soon after Christmas, my mom’s brother entered Hospice care. Family trials can be as distressing at the national news. 

Each situation could consume lives and cause despair. The Bible tells us that in this world there will be troubles. 

For the last two days, God spoke and comforted me with the same Scripture.

But we are citizens of heaven, exiles on earth waiting eagerly for a Liberator, our Lord Jesus the Annointed, to come and transform these humble, earthly bodies into the form of His glorious body by the same power that brings all things under His control. Philippians 3:20-21 (The Voice)

Most of all friends, always rejoice in the Lord! I never tire of saying it: Rejoice. Keep your gentle nature so that all people will know what it looks like to walk in His footsteps. The Lord is ever present with us. Don’t be anxious about things; instead, pray. Pray about everything. He longs to hear your requests, so talk to God about your needs and be thankful for what has come. And know that the peace of God (a peace that is beyond any and all of our human understanding) will stand watch over your hearts and minds in Jesus, the Annointed One. 

Philippians 4:4-7 (The Voice)

Father, even in trials, you offer comfort. Instead of being worried, help us rely on you for comfort and peace. Remind us that we are merely traveling through but should lead others on the same journey.. Amen

Unexpected Thankfulness

“I admired your dad,” a former classmate wrote on facebook. “It wasn’t any one thing, but the way he lived. He showed he could be trusted and stood up for what he believed.”

As principal of our school, my dad often heard what people didn’t like, but forty-five years later he learned of the positive impact he had on one grateful student. 

When I reconnected with one of my former students on facebook, I also received a message of appreciation. His path of education--now headed to a Ph.D--began in elementary school. His thanks, for my hard work and dedication as his fifth grade teacher, made my day. 

We often think only grand ventures are significant. But people notice small gestures, simple words, and everyday activities when we don’t even know anyone is watching. Each day lives are affected by those around them. What a blessing to know when we have touched a life.

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we all thanked someone unexpectedly for what they did for us? Everyone loves to be appreciated.

The Almost Forgotten Nativity

Tucked away in a closet, I found a fifth nativity set. Laying in the stable were three plastic figures-Mary, Joseph, and Baby Jesus. In a plastic container mixed with farm animals, I discovered more pudgy characters. A shepherd, two wisemen, a girl holding a jar, and an angel added to the display. A lamb, cow, horse, and chicken joined the group. Since chickens and horses aren’t usually part of a traditional nativity, I put them back in the box with the other animals that were part of a farm set. 

In the toy nativity, every chubby person was smiling. Even the animals were rotund and lovable. They weren’t fragile or carefully crafted by an artist. They enticed tiny hands to clutch and play with them. Little hands could move them into place and rearrange their positions. Eager children could act out the Christmas story as they saw it. 

A child’s nativity might include the chicken and horse along with other farm animals. No one would be excluded. The story would be lively, real, and personal. Joy and humor would fill the stable as everyone joined the celebration. 

Though I love looking at our four more traditional manager scenes, they are rigid and impersonal. The toy one reminds me that Jesus should not be put on a shelf and merely admired. There should be joy at His presence. He is real, accessible and came to save us. That is the real Christmas gift.

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. John 3: 16-17 (NIV)

Heavenly Father, thank you for your Son. Amen

A Simpler Christmas

No presents beneath the tree. Only a tiny tree on the counter. A few poinsettias, two wreaths on the front doors, and a couple of angels decorated our home this year.

With a full schedule of trips to visit my parents because of my mom’s illnesses, an upcoming move, and other commitments, there was little time or energy for Christmas decorating. Without the sparkle and abundance of holiday adornments, our nativity sets dominated the house. 

In the dining room and family room, simple, olive wood nativities, from trips to Israel, reminded us of Jesus’ humble birth. Each figure faced baby Jesus and focused on him. No distractions turned them away.

On a cabinet in the family room, two more sets proclaimed Christmas. A white stone nativity Alan bought in Kenya contrasted with all the others. The artist produced tall, thin unique figures to create the Christmas story. The unusual forms showed how Jesus accepts all people from around the world. 

The last nativity revealed Peruvian villagers worshiping the King. From a balcony, four villagers looked to the baby at the base of the church. Dressed in native clothing, Mary and Joseph stood beside the manger. Surrounding the holy family, villagers came bringing gifts for the baby. Nothing fancy or expensive but what they had. 

Every nativity displayed the story that Jesus came to be a Light to the world and save the lost. Each one also imparted a special lesson.  My simpler Christmas allowed me more time to focus on Jesus and the true reason for Christmas.

Lord, thank you for sending your son as a baby to save us. Let us not forget. Amen

Early Morning Gift

From my wicker chair on the patio, I stared into the inky blackness before dawn. Occasional water drops trickled from the roof into a bucket. In the quiet solitude, I spent time praying, reading the Bible, and contemplating my daily devotionals.

Little by little, gray replaced the blackness. Dark clouds reflected on the lake. Dim trees and flowers emerged. Huge slate clouds rushed across the lightening sky. 

After two nights of rain and storms, more was predicted. For a few days, elusive sunshine had skipped the Sunshine State. 

Difficult situations had been clouding my life too. Alan’s pulmonary fibrosis. Mother’s long hospitalization. Aunt Evelyn’s journey with Hospice. Uncle Jim’s illnesses and hospitalizations. Downsizing and moving to a new area. At times, the combination of events was overwhelming. 

As the light increased, I looked up to see an amazing sight. A strand of pink colored a patch of sky. Like an artist’s brush, strokes of paint swept across a small portion of sky between the trees. 

The fantastic display said, “There is hope even in the clouds.”

After only a few seconds, dark strokes erased my gift. The memory remains and reminds me of other gifts of hope and encouragement. Alan getting into a research study for his lungs. My mom moving to a rehab center. Access to good medical care for ailing family members. Friends who have reached out to me and many more special gifts.

Life is filled with dark times, but there are tiny breaks in the clouds. I want to be open to them.

2 Thessalonians 3:16 And now dear friends, may the Lord of peace Himself give you peace always in every way. The Lord be with you all. (NKJV)

Comforter, thank you for your hope and peace even in difficult circumstances. Amen

Look for the Light

Darkness enfolded me when I stepped onto the patio. High above the trees a slice of moon shone. 

During my mom’s hospitalization with constant detours and setbacks, it’s easy to get worn down. But the glimmer of the moon reminded me of the advent candles which point to Jesus and offer hope. 

When we focus on the darkness filled with seemingly endless problems, the light is ignored and fades. Broken marriages, addictions, job losses, evictions, diseases, accidents... Depression can extinguish the light and make life seem worthless.

Slowly the sunlight replaced the moon, and light revealed a gorgeous, new day. The worries and despair of the night lessened in the morning.  

Even a tiny flicker gives hope. Gradually the darkness flees. Light from the Advent candles remind us to prepare for Jesus, who is the Light of the World. He doesn’t always take away our pain and suffering or change our circumstances, but He goes along side us. 

“All this will flow from the kind of compassionate mercy of our God. A new day is dawning: the Sunrise from the heavens will break through our darkness, and those who huddle in night, those who sit in the shadow of death, will be able to rise and walk in the light guided in the pathway of peace.” Luke 2:78-79 (The Voice)

Yahweh Yireh, the God who sees the situation and provides for our needs, guide us and give us peace. Amen

Serenity in the Midst of Storms

         Like a gigantic painting, the peaceful lake scene held me captive. Dawn revealed dark trees and  a pale mirrored lake. Only a few ripples marred the surface.

After a stressful two weeks of uncertainty, fear, sadness, and decisions, returning to my retreat offered tranquility. 

After two weeks in the hospital, with one week of grave condition in ICU, my mom is improving each day. Though still weak, she is gaining strength and eating on her own. Tomorrow she is to move to a rehab center for more therapy. The plan is for her to be home by Christmas. Last week, that would have been an absurd dream.

Thankfully, my dad doesn’t have pneumonia but bronchitis with a bad cough. The doctor said that could continue for three weeks. His devotion to my mom takes him to the hospital several times each day so he hasn’t had much time to rest. A mask has become part of his outfit when he visits her.

The serenity of the lake this morning reminded me that God provides peace and comfort in the midst of stressful circumstances. I have been held up by family and friends who have acted as His hands and feet. What a blessing.

2 Thessalonians 3: 16 Now may the Lord of peace Himself give you peace always in every way. The Lord be with you all. (NKJV)

Heavenly Father, thank you for holding me in your arms. Amen

More Thankfulness for Another Miracle

“I don’t want to go back to the hospital.”

After having serious health problems for ten years, we could understand my mom’s reluctance to endure more medications and treatments that often made her worse. 

Though we understood she was tired of being sick, we weren’t ready to let her go. However, we didn’t think we should force treatment on an eighty-seven year old lady who was tired of the pain.

After calling my son Chris, Alan and I left for my parents’ home. I tried to prepare myself for the end but didn’t know what we would find when we arrived.

As we drove, Chris, Anne, Ashlyn, Emily and Molly prayed. Part of their prayer was that my mom would consent to go to the hospital for treatment.

My phone rang. “We are on the way to the hospital and will meet you there,” my dad said. “I didn’t mention going any more. She just said she wanted to go.”

We didn’t know what changed mother’s mind until I spoke with Anne. When she mentioned they had prayed for mother to go to the hospital, we knew we had another miracle.   

How thankful our family is for her being treated there. When the doctor said she had a nasty type of pneumonia, we knew if she had stayed at home, she would not have survived.

Though she is still in ICU, the doctor last night was more encouraging. Her lungs were clearer and her fever was gone. Hopefully, the sedation will soon be reduced and the ventilator taken out in the next couple of days.

Thank you for all of your prayers. They certainly do work. The quickly answered prayer reminded us that God listens and miracles do occur. 

He heals up the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. Psalm 147:3 (NIV)

Dear Lord, thank you for watching over us and listening to our prayers. Amen

Thankfulness During Another Hospital Visit

A pale form sat in the wheelchair. Listless eyes opened and closed. Mother tried to smile when we walked into the hospital waiting room.

“I’d rather be home in bed,” she said.

We understood why she hadn’t wanted to go to the emergency room again. In six or seven weeks, she had been there three times. Another hospitalization wasn’t welcome news. 

After my dad’s phone call, Alan and I quickly prepared for the hour’s drive to their home.  With multiple issues, her health was precarious. We wondered how she would be when we got there. Thankfully, before we arrived, she had finally decided to go to the hospital.

After a rather prolonged time, they began the process of evaluating her. During the extended wait during the evening, I tried to find things to be thankful for. There were many. 

Cell phones to contact family members. A nearby hospital with caring doctors, nurses and other staff members. Blood tests and a lab to analyze them. Oxygen tanks to help her breathe. A mobile x-ray machine so she didn’t have to leave the room. An EKG machine to check her heart. A clean bed so she could stretch out and relax. Warm blankets to take off the chill. A dad who is devoted to his wife of sixty-eight years and patiently sat with her.

I remembered what our recent house guest from South Sudan said about his country’s hospitals. They have little equipment and medications. Many citizens die for lack of good medical care. What a blessing that we have well equipped medical facilities.

When my mom was stabilized and waiting for a room, Alan and I decided to leave for home. Even on the way, I thought of more to be thankful for. A husband willing to drop everything and drive me there. A new book for him to read while he waited. A reliable car with plenty of gas. A McDonald’s where we could get a late night snack. Light traffic and good weather for the late drive.

The first phone call caused anxiety and uncertainty. However, with prayer and the Holy Spirit’s guidance, peace and thankfulness returned. When I concentrated on the positive things, the rest receded. 

Please pray for continued healing, peace, and thankfulness. 

I Thessalonians 5: 16-18 Celebrate always, pray constantly, and give thanks to God no matter what circumstances you find yourself in. (This is God’s will for all of you in Jesus the Anointed.) The Voice

Thankful for the Visit

“Could we stop over for a visit today?” the email asked.

After talking with Alan, I answered the friend we had met while on a tour of Egypt and Jordan a few years ago. They had traveled from their home in California to see relatives who lived near us.

A little while later, two couples arrived. Our friends introduced us to their relatives. We settled onto the patio and talked like old friends. 

After a while, they asked about Alan’s lung disease. He explained the symptoms and advancing progression. He also told them that he might or might not be healed and knew it was all in God’s hands. 

“May we pray for you?” 

“Of course.”

Our friend said, “I felt God leading us to come and pray for you.”

As we all held hands and stood, they prayed. First for Alan and then for me. What a blessing.

They didn’t know if we would be receptive but came because God wanted them to do it. Their prayers were heartfelt and lifted us up.  Their obedience encouraged and blessed us. 

Each time I think of them, I hope that I will be as receptive when God leads me. How thankful I am to have friends who love God and display their faith.

For this reason, ever since I heard about your faith in the Lord Jesus and your love for all the saints, I have not stopped giving thanks for you, remembering you in my prayers.

Ephesians 1:15-16

Dear Father, thank you for your servants. Help me to willingly follow your plans. Amen

An Attitude of Thanksgiving

A small plane hummed and crossed the clear, blue sky. Ducks gathered on the glassy lake. A pair of great white egrets and a blue heron sauntered through the shallow water. Blackbirds bellowed. Sunrise illuminated my garden. 

Thankfulness filled me. God created every part of my retreat from the short peppermint to the towering bald cypress. Silent lizards to trumpeting blue herons. Billowing gray moss to waving pink azaleas. Soft grass to rough pine cones. Each had a unique place in His world.

While enjoying my favorite sanctuary, I thought of those in Israel and Afghanistan, who have no peace. Wrapped in my warm robe and draped with blankets against the chilly morning, I remembered the homeless in woods not far away and huddled refugees in camps and caves with no warmth. 

As I prepared for an abundant Thanksgiving dinner, images of hungry children in the hills of Peru and refugee families in Ethiopia eating UN rations came to mind.

My closet full of clothes seemed extravagant compared to Haitians with no change of clothes. 

My daily Bible reading from my newest version reminded me of Christians with no Bible at all. For Christians in Sudan, it is illegal to even own one.  

The list in my head went on and on. Why was I chosen to live in a country with so many opportunities and freedoms? Why weren’t they? What will I do with my blessings? 

In spite of trials and hardships, God has always provided for me and given me hope. No matter what is going on, there is someone who is worse off. 

As our culture becomes so obsessed with sales, shopping, and getting more and more stuff, take time to be thankful for what you have. The most important things are not bought with money. 

Come offer thanks to the Eternal; invoke His holy name. Tell other people about things He has done. Sing songs of praise to Him; tell stories of all His miracles. Psalm 105:1 (The Voice)

Heavenly Father, thank you for the many blessings you have given to me. Help me to bless others as you have blessed me. Amen

Remember and Be Thankful

Wind rippled small American flags all around our neighborhood. One patriotic couple quietly places flags along our streets as a tribute to those who have served and are serving our country.

Each time I pass by the brightly colored banners, I remember family members and friends who have sacrificed for our country. 

I also think of ill clad soldiers who followed George Washington and those encased in gear in Afghanistan. Sailors on wooden ships forming a blockade of American harbors and those sailing the world on gigantic aircraft carriers. Forces joined in Europe fighting Hitler and those with U.N. troops maintaining peace in Africa. A father in a submarine or mother in Iraq. Fliers in open cockpits or ones in Stealth bombers. Lonely outposts of the emerging West or offices at the Pentagon. All serving.

Veterans come in various sizes, shapes, colors, ages, and skills. For over two hundred years they have endured, sacrificed, and served. Lives have been altered. Many snuffed out. To every one. Thank you for serving and protecting us.  

My Autumn

Surrounded by blackness, I rocked in my wicker chair before dawn. With an afghan tucked around me, I read my Bible and daily devotionals by the porch light.

As dawn lifted its black veil, silence was broken. A boisterous tirade between unseen cardinals sounded. Lifting his huge wings, a blue heron bellowed and crossed the lake. Loud warblings ricocheted from shore to shore. Morning bird tunes played background music as light increased.

A sand hill crane flapped gigantic wings and took flight. White ducks resisted the wake up call and snoozed on the bank. Squirrels squawked from towering trees.

Filmy haze tiptoed above the water. Yellow leaves sprinkled the oak like an ice cream topping. Palms, pines, and live oaks clutched their leaves refusing to bare themselves. 

Shivers told me autumn had arrived. Flowers faded. Growth slowed. Leaves lost luster. I missed the vibrancy of summer but found loveliness in the change. 

An upcoming birthday reminded me that I’m also entering autumn. Older limbs don’t bend or flex on command. Stamina has decreased. Wrinkles and bulges appear. Sleep often eludes.

But in retirement I traded lesson plans, meetings, and endless paperwork for reading, writing, traveling, volunteering, and visiting. There’s time to savor sunrises and sunsets.  Granddaughters and daily walks bring enjoyment.  

New opportunities come with each advancing season.

Great News

Today we found out that Alan is officially in the study with the trial medication for his lungs. He will begin the infusions on Thursday and continue every three weeks for forty-five weeks.

We really feel that God is working. Two hundred thousand people have idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis with thirty to forty thousand more being diagnosed each year. This study is accepting only thirty participants throughout the entire USA, and Alan is one of them. 

There are no medical cures, but the first trial of this medication has slowed down the progress of the disease in some patients. We pray that his lungs stop deteriorating and that his lung function improves. 

Even though science can’t cure it, God can perform miracles. We would love to have a complete cure but know that might not happen. We are open to whatever God plans. 

During this whole process, we can use lots of prayers. There has been a significant decrease in Alan’s lung function and what he is able to do. We are making lifestyle changes and appreciate each day. Every day is a blessing, and we want to make the most of each one.

And my God shall supply all your need according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus.

Philippians 4:19 (NKJV)

Alan and Rebecca

A Time of Comfort

Recent health issues of family members brought tears and fears for the uncertain future. But in the peaceful dawn, God spoke.

Blue gray clouds drifted across the pale sky. Dark reflections colored the lake. In the dimness of morning, not a leaf stirred. Only tiny ripples wrinkled the water.

Breaking the serenity, crickets hummed. Birds sang softly. A solitary white lily rose above a mass of green. Pink blooms sprinkled azalea bushes. With the rising sun, color and music returned.

Blushing clouds replaced the gray with a striking contrast to the silent darkness. Within minutes, rose turned to white. Dreariness disappeared, and beauty took its place.

Life offers unexpected and quick changes too. Even in the gloominess and tragedy of trials, His presence gives hope and comfort. The loveliness of creation and acts of kindness all touch hearts with God’s love.

I will lift up my eyes to the hills from whence comes my help? My help comes from the Lord who made heaven and earth. Psalm 121:1-2

Heavenly Father, thank you for speaking and comforting through your creation and your people. Amen

Wrong Word but Powerful Message

“These ice packs sure are condescending,” Alan said from the kitchen.

I looked up as he placed the packs on the counter. Confused by his words, I asked, “What did you say?”

“These ice packs are condescending. There’s water all over them.”

Unable to stifle my laughter, I answered between snickers. “You mean condensation. Condescending means looking down at someone.”

He nodded and giggled after hearing my definitions. Then he joined me in my hearty laughter.

How I love our times of laughing. We both provide plenty of situations that bring humor to our lives. Chuckling together brings happiness but laughing at someone is condescending. 

Alan still needs prayers as we wait for final approval for the study for his pulmonary fibrosis. The company approved him after the multiple tests but paperwork is not complete from many people. The first infusion is now set for October 25. We will rejoice when the needle goes into his arm that day, and the medication begins flowing.

A Sacker

While watching pre-game football commentary, Alan turned to and said, “That guy in the middle was a sacker.”

Even with my limited knowledge of football, I had heard of sacking but had not heard anyone called a sacker. Something didn’t sound right.

“He’s what?” I asked.

“He used to be a sacker,” Alan replied.

My mind quickly jumped into Alan mode as I attempted to figure out what he meant.

“Do you mean bagger?”

With a smile he answered, “Yes, he used to work in a grocery store.”

“It is a bagger. Not a sacker.”

We erupted into laughter. Often I have to decipher what he means from what he says. He chooses words that are similar but not correct or ones that sound almost the same with completely different meanings. 

His inadvertent mistakes bring us constant laughter. He could be offended when I giggle at his goofs. He could clam up to prevent saying the wrong thing. But he continues talking, and we enjoy the bloopers.

Humor connects people and tickles our insides. At least for a while, burdens are lifted, and gloom lightens. Even during the darkest times, laughter acts as a healing medicine.

Dear Lord, as we journey through life, let us remember to not take ourselves too seriously and enjoy laughter. Amen

Why I Cook and Alan Does the Dishes.

“Why don’t we buy a turkey, and I’ll cook it? Alan said. “We can eat some and freeze the rest.”

“Ok,” I responded knowing that he would never do it alone, and I would be involved. 

Turkey day arrived. He took the huge bird out of the refrigerator and found the roasting pan. I put the box with cooking bags on the counter, added the container with flour, and stepped to the side. This was his idea.

He took the directions from the box and began reading. “First, cut off the drumstick.”

“What?” I asked trying not to laugh.

“It says to cut off the drumstick.” My contorted face gave him a clue that something was wrong. “Maybe I read the wrong place.” 

Giggling, I picked up the booklet. “You looked at carving instead of cooking.” 

I pictured him struggling to sever a stubborn raw turkey leg and couldn’t contain my laughter. He joined in.

He yanked out the innards and laid them aside. I floured the bag, and we wrestled the awkward bird into the bag. Alan sliced slits in the top and tied it shut.

Again, he picked up the cooking bag directions while I watched. With a frown he read silently and then aloud.

“In cold weather, it takes eleven hours.”

I doubled over with tears coming from my eyes. Between laughs, I grabbed the strange directions. 

“It says cold water not cold weather. You read the directions for defrosting,” I sputtered.

“I wondered why the other column said four or five days,” he giggled.

Our relay of laughter kept us going and going while the turkey waited. I leaned against the refrigerator to keep from falling over. 

He continued innocently, “I wondered why cooking would be different in cold weather.”

After order was restored, we advanced to the technical part of the process. 

Like a lost little boy, he asked, “What do we do now?”

I handed him the meat probe and began reading oven directions. After several steps and many buttons, he had it. The turkey was safely in the oven.

The football game resumed, and I returned to my reading. 

A wonderful aroma greeted me when I returned from the patio. A sheepish Alan met me at the door. 

“I turned the light on to see the turkey and hit the wrong button to turn it off. I turned off the oven.”

More laughing as we walked to the kitchen. Of course, he didn’t remember how to turn the oven back on. I repeated the instructions and baking continued. I also pointed out the clearly marked oven light button.

Each time we eat the succulent meat, we will remember the fun we had baking it. I still envision a blackened, shriveled, one legged bird after eleven hours of baking.

A sense of humor can relieve all kinds of difficult situations and warm the heart.

Weeds or Wildflowers

The artist brushed pale shades of pink and blue across the emerging sky. Reflections of trees jiggled on the lake. Tiny waves of concentric circles formed as fish broke the surface. 

Faint melodies drifted from high trees. Leaves crackled as squirrels scampered. A hidden duck quacked. White ducks munched loudly. 

A tall arc of white wildflowers rose along the shore. Uncultivated yellow cana lilies joined the bouquet. Though much of my garden had been thoughtfully planted, unexpected treasures caught my eye.  

Colorful flowers appeared. Ducks paraded. Rippling water and a painted sky embellished the lake. Melodies soothed. All without my help.

Like my lake retreat, I don’t control much of my life. The plan in my head doesn’t match the one that I live. Carefully orchestrated projects crumble and fail. But from the rubble, unforeseen opportunities and dreams rise. 

It is tempting to yank the weeds from my garden. But their fleeting beauty can add a whimsical elegance. 

Life is filled with situations that can be viewed as weeds or wildflowers. The difference is my perception. Instead of trying to avoid every problem, I can try to find an opportunity.

Playing Hide and Seek

        With a pillow over her face, Molly counts. “One, two, five, eight...”

We laugh and run to hide. She looks in the usual places. Under the table, behind the door, and in the closet. 

She likes to count and hide with Ashlyn, Emily, or grandma. When a good spot is found, she tries to hide there right away before the counting even begins. At two, she is just learning the rules and how to play so no one expects her to do it perfectly.

Her latest spot caused laughter. To her, she was carefully hidden, but to everyone else, she was exposed. 

Are we like Molly? We think we have carefully hidden poor attitudes, bad habits, and prejudices but are actually exposed.

The Team

People waited patiently. Elderly and middle aged couples. Young parents. Teenagers. Single adults. Families. They stopped before me.

“The body of Christ given for you,” I said to each one.

Most looked me in the eyes as I spoke to them. Nods. Smiles. Thank you’s. Then they picked up a piece of bread from my basket.

A few approached with downcast eyes. As they took bread from my basket, I said a special prayer. God knew their trials. 

Dragging his feet and lumbering down the aisle, a young boy struggled to reach the front of the church. His father held on from behind to guide and support his handicapped son. With a trembling hand, the youngster grasped a piece of bread. Together they received communion and as one slowly returned to their seats.

As difficult as it was, the father and son team made the journey together instead of being served at their seats. Tears came to my eyes as I watched the quiet drama. 

Earlier in the week, disappointing news from Alan’s pulmonologist had brought me tears, anxiety, and uncertainty. Like that dad’s earthy support for his child, I knew that my heavenly Father would embrace, comfort, and guide us as we continue along the journey of Alan’s lung disease. When we can’t stand on our own, He holds us up. 

Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you. Yes, I will help you. I will uphold you with My righteous right hand. Isaiah 41:10

Heavenly Father, thank you for constant reminders of your unfailing love and strength. Amen

There is More to the Story

“Great picture.”

“You both look great.”

“Love the picture.”

Many friends posted comments on facebook after I added a new profile picture of Alan and me. Because I couldn’t find a recent picture of the two of us, I cropped a group shot to get our photo. 

In the picture we smiled, but the occasion was a solemn one. Surrounding us in the picture were two pastor friends and their wives. Gus and Cliff had conducted the memorial service for Stephanie, Alan’s daughter.

Our edited picture implied that everything was wonderful. The real, sad story was hidden on facebook, but not to those who shared our grief in person. Because of the love, prayers and support, we could smile.

Much of what we see in life is edited. Smiles cover inward tears. Persistence masks hopelessness. Giving conceals emptiness. Joking and laugher hides pain and despair. Like a book, the cover shown to the world shelters the story within.

While some instantly open the book, others resist letting anyone inside. My edited picture reminded me that I need to look beyond what I see and gently open books to read the whole story.

Uplifted Arms

Toddlers jumped and danced awkwardly to kiddie music. Tiny hands and feet mimicked the young librarian with hand gestures and dance steps. Happy songs and rhymes delighted eager children while adults sat on the fringes of the carpet. 

Immersed in the story, little eyes focused on the farm animal puppets. Only one curious girl ventured toward the stage. Others sat until the story ended.

“Let’s get up,” the leader requested.

Music began again. Bodies hopped and turned. Molly tumbled. Tears trickled across her crinkled face. I jumped up. She hurried to me with her arms reaching high. I scooped her up. After one hug, she scrambled back to her spot.

Though not hurt, the unexpected fall startled her. She needed to know I was 

there. After a comforting hug, she resumed her play.

Life gets hard. Disappointments. Delays. Rejections. Losses. God is nearby. Reach up and grab a hug. His comfort and encouragement provide courage to go on.

I will uphold you with My righteous right hand. Isaiah 41: 10

Heavenly Father, thank you for being there with a hug when I stumble and need comfort. Amen