Beauty from the Darkness

“The God who spoke light into existence, saying, ‘Let light shine from the darkness,’ is the very One who sets our hearts ablaze to shed light on the knowledge of God’s glory revealed in the face of Jesus, the Anointed One.” 2 Corinthians 4: 6 The Voice

            Narrow stripes of pink swept across a barely blue sky. Black trees stood like sentinels. The Artist’s brushstroke switched to bold lines of rose across the expansive sky. The pink and blue painting formed a magnificent panorama of sky above a mirrored lake.

            I studied the marvelous sunrise from my patio and was overwhelmed by God’s creation. But the picture faded before my eyes as I longed for it to remain.

            As the sky’s brilliance paled, white, whispy clouds replaced pink ones. Trees and flowers emerged. Bird songs floated through the morning breezes. Gentle waves rippled the lake.

            I wanted to remain surrounded by the beauty of God’s sunrise. To ignore the pain and ugliness of life which was hidden before dawn.

            Then I realized the gift God had given to me. From the blackness of night, beauty unfolded. Life isn’t all splendor and loveliness. But neither is it all pain and trials.

            If I had not ventured out into the blackness before dawn, I would not have seen the transformation and heavenliness of the rising sun. Likewise, if I stay hidden in my grief, I won’t experience the amazing, but sometimes brief, encounters with God around me.

            He is in the powerful, exquisite sunrises just as He is in the difficult times of darkness. 

Creator, thank you for the times of darkness so we can appreciate the periods of gorgeous light and know that You are with us in all of it.  Amen

Reluctant Listener

            A new symptom joined coughing, runny nose, and lethargy. Nausea sent me quickly back to bed. I hated being sick.

            Garbage day. I struggled to my feet and shuffled to the garage to wheel the giant green giant of a garbage can to the street. Then I carried the two recycling bins to the curb and picked up the newspaper.

            After pulling it out of its plastic covering, I scanned the headlines. My brow wrinkled. I tried to read it again. Each time the letters joined together into foreign words. After three attempts, I could finally make sense of the words.

            The incident left me alarmed and shaky. I looked around for signs of life at neighboring homes. No one appeared.

            Inside my house, I read papers on my counter with no difficulty. However, I knew there was a problem.

            I grabbed my I Pad and returned to my chair on the patio. Surrounded by my daily devotionals and my Bible, I opened google first. Because of a family history of the brief, stroke like occurrences, I looked for symptoms of TIA’s. The screen filled. I had no weakness or paralysis. Only one symptom matched my problem. I had trouble understanding.

            Fear and uncertainty grabbed me in my aloneness. What should I do? Call 911? Call a neighbor or Chris? Drive myself to the doctor or hospital? Forget it?

            A little bit of sense returned. I prayed. “God, let me know what I should do.”

            With a sigh, I picked up the devotional by Sabra Ciancanelli for that day from the 2015 Guideposts Daily Devotional book.      

            “What time I am afraid, I will trust in thee. In God I will praise his word,

             in God I  have put my trust… Psalm 56: 3-4 (KJV)

                        “Mom, what is it?”

                       

                        Her voice trembled. “I don’t want to upset you, but I think I had

            a stroke. I’m going to the hospital.”

                        My siblings and I met at the emergency room. “Oh, look at all

            the trouble I caused,” Mom said from her hospital bed. “You all look so worried. I’m all right.” We sat down, crowded in the small examining      room.”

            My heart nearly stopped. Was that God’s answer to me?

            For a while, I wavered. Thoughts swirled. I probably didn’t have a stroke even though that was my first impression. It did go away. Would I have more severe consequences if I didn’t get checked out? Just like the mom in the devotional, I didn’t want to bother anyone.

            The devotional, my Indiana cousin’s insistent text messages to get help, and my son’s phone call helped me decide.

            After numerous tests at the hospital, doctors discovered unknown problems. With treatment and a few lifestyle changes, hopefully there won’t be more strange episodes or additional small brain damages. 

            My experience taught me a few things that could be helpful for everyone who has a problem.

            Don’t wait too long to do something.

            Let people know.

            Accept help.

            Be thankful.

            Pray for guidance. Listen. Act.

            The prayer from the devotional applied to me too.

            Heavenly Father, even in the scariest moments, when I focus on love, You take away my fear and replace it with gratitude. Amen     Sabra Ciancanelli

Following the Path

“Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in you. Show me the way I should go, for to you I lift up my soul. Teach me to do your will, for you are my God; may your good Spirit lead me on level ground.”

(Psalm 143: 8, 10 NIV)

            Orange light peeked through the trees and lit up the milky, blue sky. Like a long tail, the small duck’s wake followed him across the dark, still lake.

            His little waves changed the water and kept moving and moving. He didn’t go in circles, zigzag or look backwards. With perseverance and determination, he focused on his forward course.

            At times I feel like I am going in circles and jumping from one activity to another. I wonder if I am even making a difference in the world.

            The little duck reminded me to focus on God’s plan for me and not look back at what used to be. If I continue with perseverance and determination, He will send my ripples in the perfect direction.

Heavenly Father, thank you for using your creatures to teach me. Lead me in the way you want me to go. Amen

Tearful Thanksgiving

                                  

Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, in everything give thanks for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. 1 Thessalonians 5: 16-18 NKJV

            Piles of slick advertisements laid on the counter. Each one urged shoppers to shop instead of spending time with family and friends. Many will overspend to buy things for those left at home.

            My wants are not in any colorful catalogue. I wish empty chairs could be filled with those who have left us. I thought this year would be easier but tears continue to flow, stop and start again.

            Shelves of family pictures, computer images scrolling across my screen and memories remind me of those who no longer celebrate with us.

            Beautiful weather beckoned me outside. A bike ride through my neighborhood and fresh air made me feel better for a while. Seeing couples walking together brought more tears, but I continued riding.

            When I turned to go home, I saw it. A partial but bright rainbow glistened against white clouds.  There was no evidence of rain but God’s rainbow lightened my sadness. He promised to be with me even in the darkest times.

            Giving thanks in everything seems impossible but isn’t. I am thankful for all that I have and have had. I am trying to concentrate on what remains.

            For millions of people what I have left is much more than they could ever imagine. A loving family. Many friends. Abundant food. Good health. Comfortable home. Peaceful country. Freedom. Knowing Jesus.

            Writing about my blessings helped to focus on my blessings and not my losses.

            I pray you all have a good Thanksgiving no matter the circumstances. I especially pray for those who also have empty chairs at the table.

Father, thank you for the blessings and promises you give to us. Amen

All I Want Is...

May the Lord of peace Himself give you peace always in every way.

2 Thessalonians 3: 16(NKJV)

            With missing singers, I was one of only two altos in a group of around twenty. I struggled to find the right notes and sing out. My partner and I tried to blend our voices with the chorus but were drowned out by the other parts.

            In a larger section of altos, I could find the notes and sing louder. But my confidence shrank with an almost solo.

             Our conductor sang with us on some songs and tried to help us along. His wife, who passed away a few months ago, had been my leader. With her strong voice beside me, my confidence grew. Her kindness welcomed me when I joined the chorus. When Alan died, her compassion comforted me.

            I missed her as a fellow alto and friend. My grief intensified as I thought of  the upcoming Christmas. Her husband’s first without her. My second without Alan.

            Memories flooded my mind. Two years ago, though weakened and on oxygen, Alan attended our Christmas performance. He encouraged me to sing even when I wanted to stay home with him because we knew it would be our last holiday together.

            Thankfully, practice ended. I wanted to leave and grieve alone.

            As parting remarks, the director said, “The first song we will practice next time will be “All I Want for Christmas”.

            I opened the music and scanned the words. “All I want for Christmas is you.” Grief stabbed me. I struggled to block the tears. The song brought more reminders of what I wouldn’t have. Dad, Mother, Alan, my friend.

            I hurried to my car. Sadness rode home with me but only a few tears escaped. At home, I prepared to meet friends for the evening. As I became immersed in the present and looked to the future, grief slowly slipped away.

            For me, grief often strikes unexpectedly but doesn’t always come when I think it will. Fortunately, its visits are not as long or burdensome as they used to be.

            I remember how God has been with me through each step and won’t leave me alone.

Father, thank you for your commitment to love and protect me. Amen