He Speaks

May 30, 2012

It’s been a hard week.  I ended up going to church alone Sunday morning, and, generally speaking, I hate that.  I was mad, disproportionately so.  Kelsey wasn’t feeling up to going, Tim decided to stay home with her, and Aron had a headache.  So off to my weekly family time I went – alone.  Singing always stirs my soul and often brings to the surface deep feelings.  When worship started and we were singing songs that I usually love, I got angrier and more scared and I began to cry.  And I couldn’t stop.  I was mad – mad that Kelsey is going through what she is, mad that my prayers of healing or relief had not been answered, and mad that God was ignoring me.  It was that seething kind of anger that I haven’t felt in a very long time.  It was a scary reminiscence of a dark time for me.  I don’t want to go back there – ever.

After church, and after a little primal scream therapy, I talked to Tim on the phone hoping that he could calm me enough so I do could my shopping.  In his ever-calm, methodical, and trouble-shooting mindset, he lovingly called me on my catastrophic thinking.  Then later Steve, someone near and dear to me, reminded me of Job and we also talked about the Psalms.

We didn’t talk about anything that I didn’t already know.  In fact, it was all the same stuff I use in my counseling.  Job’s wife urged him to just curse God and be done with it.  She was mad.  Job refused her advice.  But, towards the end, he was worn down and asked God “Why?”  God swiftly put him in his place by asking, “Who are you to ask me?”  It’s not for us to ask why.  It’s up to use to believe that He knows the plan.

Steve’s words weren’t immediate in the effect.  Honestly, I went home and escaped to my room and to sleep.  With Tim’s help I regrouped.  Faith comes through hearing the word.  I knew the word, I knew the scriptures quoted to me, but hearing the word made a difference.

The next couple of days were better but still difficult and I was still mad.  I started a new Bible study with my sisters at church titled, “Discerning the Voice of God.”  I didn’t do my daily study until this morning because I didn’t want to because, you guessed it, I am mad.  But I did it.  What I learned is that I can and do hear God’s voice daily.  Every day I hear Him in my counseling and I see His work in my life.  But I don’t hear him where Kelsey is concerned.  He is silent.  He is ignoring me.  And that burns me up.

So as I was driving to work this morning I was thinking about these things while I was listening to a CD I had started the day before: “Hearing the Voice of God” from Gateway Freedom Ministries.  My phone rang and it was Allyson, my sister, and she said, “I just wanted to tell you I love you.”  I tried to thank her and tell her I love her too but then I heard her say, “Either you are in a bad cell area or I am and I only hear crackling when you talk.  I just wanted to tell you I love you.  I don’t have anything else.  Bye.” 

So, I am mad and God feels far, far away, and I get a phone call that simply says, “I love you.”  In that moment, I knew God had used my sister to speak to me.  “I love you,” He said, “I see you.”

I never doubted that God loves me.  I know that He does.  But, more than anything, I needed to hear it.  I needed to hear the words.  I made the mistake of dwelling on the “Why?” of Kelsey’s suffering and illness.  That’s never a good place to be.  I started listening to things that aren’t of God.  I heard a quote last week:  “Fellowship with God is turning off all the other voices that I tend to listen to.”  I need to get better at this.  Maybe that is one reason why MercyMe’s song, “Word of God Speak,” is my all-time favorite song.  If you aren’t familiar with it, here it is.  Turn it up and just soak it in.

On a lighter note, and probably a shocking one to some of you, here is another song that comes to mind on this topic.  Yes, I like some Southern Gospel music….

A Glimpse of Heaven

Written May 24, 2012

March 30, 2009 remains as one of the most remarkable days of my life, well, it’s probably THE most remarkable day of my life.  I always shy away from those definitive statements because, as a reader, it draws my attention away from the subject and I’m left thinking, “Is it REALLY THE most [whatever]” or “was it REALLY THE worst day of [whatever]?”  I suppose it’s the skeptic/cynic in me that still rears its ugly head from time to time.  But in this instance, the definitive is appropriate.

When I think of that day, “remarkable” is the word that consistently comes up to describe it.  It was certainly an extraordinary and amazing day but “remarkable” fits best because it is a day worth taking notice and it is absolutely a day to talk about.

It was a day, to be more accurate an afternoon and evening, in which I was an outsider looking in, yet a witness.  I was there for seven or eight hours yet I wouldn’t be surprised at all if most of the people there don’t remember my presence.

Lettia called that afternoon to ask if I would drive Samantha to the hospital to see her grandmother, Alan’s mother, who was in her last days.  Reba was an admirable and faithful woman whose body had been eaten up by arthritis.  For so long she had been so frail and the pain she endured in her bones and joints is a testimony to her strength and perseverance.  One of her medical conditions had turned her legs a deep bluish color.  It was something I had never seen before.

In the hospital, she had been unresponsive for hours, if not for the whole day before.  But when Sam and I got to her room, instead of a somber and quiet room that I expected, we walked in on laughter and Reba sitting up in bed awake.  The covers were pulled back from the end exposing her feet – her pink, beautiful feet!  I couldn’t believe it!  I looked at Lettia with a “What the heck?” expression and she said that when Reba woke up that her feet were a normal color and that Reba hadn’t stopped talking since she woke up.  She had a lot to talk about – she’d seen heaven.

“Heaven is for real.  I’ve seen it.  Tell everyone.  Everyone!” she said.  She saw her husband and parents there with waiting arms, she saw the streets paved in gold; she saw it, and then returned to tell about it.

Shortly after we arrived at the hospital, she was transferred to a hospice unit just down the road and we all gathered there.  She had a huge room there, thank goodness, because the whole family was there.  While Reba had lived to tell the tale of heaven, she only had a brief time to tell her story and to say her goodbyes.

Alan and Lettia are more than friends to us.  Our families have intermixed into one.  So, I have met many of his extended family at various family events like weddings and graduations but I had never been with them all together at the same time.  It was Reba’s last day, and while there were some tears, most of those tears were from laughter (usually started by something hilarious that Reba would say).  She was surrounded with joy and love.

Reba would call each of the family members over to her bedside and give them her last words.  Sometimes she was grandma scolding someone to correct something in their life, sometimes she was funny, sometimes she was encouraging, and sometimes she was a combination of all three.  But it was all said in love.  By late in the evening, she had covered everyone in the room with her wisdom and blessings and then she looked at me.  She said to me, “I really don’t have any last words for you.”  I walked to her bedside, grabbed her hand and said, “That’s alright because I have some for you.  Now that I see your whole family together for the first time, I understand Alan better.  J  But what I see is that you have raised an incredible family who loves, laughs, and is faithful.  This is your legacy and I am sure that when you see Jesus again that He will say to you, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant!’”

Reba returned to heaven about four hours later.

When I think back on this story, it still brings tears to my eyes.  Tears of gratitude to have been blessed to be a witness to that day.  Tears of admiration of a woman who spent her last hours doing exactly what she needed to do – to say goodbye and to leave a lasting memory of both her and heaven.

I started this out calling it a remarkable day but, in the end, I have great difficulty saying (or remarking) just what it is about that day that so impacts me.  God gave Reba a glimpse of heaven so that she could tell everyone.  Now, as I write this, I realize that Reba gave me a glimpse of God so that I could tell everyone.  God is love.  God is wisdom. And God is even humorous.

He Will Make Me Know Wisdom

1/3/2011

For 10-15 years or so, there has been somewhat of a mystery in my life.  There is no way to say this without sounding like I am bragging but it really is not that.  I have noticed in those years that somehow I got smarter and wiser.  I am not just talking about “well I’ve come into those years where life experience is paying off.”  I am talking about doing so much better in college than I ever did before in school.  Yes, I worked hard at it like I always have.  But I just remember things better.  There were times during tests when I would get stuck on a question and close my eyes and I could mentally piece together my notes and see the answer.  I could remember in detail long answers to essay questions.  I have had people call me wise because I gave good advice or was able to see a different perspective than they did.  These things are all very different for me.

Also, in my counseling, I get insights that just come to me regarding my clients, their problems, and what it means for them.  I have had good success as an intern with counseling individuals.  People tell me that they have progressed further in counseling in one year with me than they have in the previous 20 years.  People tell me that I have taken them further than they thought possible.  That isn’t me, I know it isn’t.  That is God working in ways that I have never experienced before.

But why now?  Why is God working this way now in my life?

So often, my Bible study is a topical study that I will meditate on, talk to people about, research in the Bible.  Often times, more than one is going on at a time.  Lately, I have been considering demons and how they work as well as what I have been discussing above.  In my study of demons, I asked a preacher at my church the question, “How can demons work inside you, oppress (not possess) you, if you have the Holy Spirit?  How can the Holy Spirit be in the presence of demons?”  He mentioned a verse, 1 Thess. 5:19, which says, “Do not quench the Spirit,” in response to my question.  Then before I could talk to him further about what this means, we were interrupted.  So, what does that mean?  How do you “quench” the Holy Spirit?  When I think of “quench” I think of “douse” like “dousing the fire” and “put out” as well as “quenching my thirst.”  So does that mean you can have the Holy Spirit but be in such a place spiritually that you are not allowing it to do its work?  “Quench” does not mean expel.  If I quench my thirst, I am no longer thirsty, but I can certainly get thirsty again.

Then, in my counseling, I was looking at some resources for working with survivors of childhood sexual abuse when I came across Ps. 51:6, “Surely you desire truth in the inner parts; you teach me wisdom in the inmost place” (NIV) or the NASB puts it, “Behold, You desire truth in the innermost being, And in the hidden part You will make me know wisdom.”  In counseling, it is vitally important to reveal the deepest, innermost being for that is where shame, guilt, and unforgiveness reside.  By shining the Light on shame and guilt, they tend to go away.  Like secrets, they can grow only in darkness.  If you look at the origins of the word “confess,” you will find that it means “to agree with.”  When we confess to God, we are literally agreeing with God.  He already knows everything we have to say to Him, everything that is in our hearts.  The point is that we have to say it, we have to give it up, we have to expose it to the light.  When we do that, He “will make me know wisdom.”

And there is the tie-in, the connection.  When we don’t give God our innermost being, when we are holding onto stuff that is painful, shameful, and hurting us, that stuff is ultimately creating a wall between us and God.  We are truly keeping the Holy Spirit from doing His work.  But, when we give it all to God, when we confess the deepest scariest parts of us to God, then the Holy Spirit is free to work.  And, when the Holy Spirit is free to work, we become wise.

I was sexually abused as a child.  I have spent many years healing the wounds.  I think there will always be some small wounds that need healing.  At this point in my life, though, I am OK with that as I know that I grow each time it happens.  One “biggie” was in forgiving my grandmother.  I think it was at that point, the point of forgiveness, that I allowed the Holy Spirit’s fire to be rekindled in me.  And, then, He started working even more.

Well, now the mystery is solved....but only with the help of the Holy Spirit.

God's Perfect Timing

March 25, 2012

It is interesting, I think, to reflect on your life looking for God moments.  Sometimes, hindsight provides a perspective that allows you to more clearly see God working in your life.  One of those times for me is when I think about meeting Tim for the first time.

I grew up in the Lutheran church but all the garbage from my childhood got in the way of my faith.  I quit confirmation classes as a young teenager, I purposefully began sleeping too late on Sunday mornings so I wouldn’t have to go to church, and I eventually left church all together when I was 19 or 20 years old.  I never saw God in my life, never felt His hand, never heard Him speak to me.  Where was He when I was going through all of that?  I was angry and resentful.  For several years, I hid my unbelief and kept going to church because I had very close friends there.  But after a while, the hypocrisy of pretending to believe, especially while being a sponsor in the youth group, got to me.  So I quit pretending and quit church and God.

In January, 1985, when I was 19 years old, I first told of the abuse that occurred for most of my childhood.  Then, in July, 1987, I moved to Florida following my best friend (she also helped me get a job with her) and put distance between me and my problems.  Telling my secret set me on a road that has been both the most difficult journey I could imagine and the most rewarding passage to self-discovery and healing.  I certainly didn’t take that journey alone.  My family and closest friend were a constant source of support.  And, George, my counselor, walked along beside me the whole way.  He taught me to love myself.  I finished counseling in March or April, 1989.

In May, 1989, I met Tim for the first time.  A friend and coworker invited me to go waterskiing – I didn’t know it was a set-up.  I instantly felt comfortable talking to Tim.  That was a first for me.  Talking to a guy was never comfortable.  The next weekend, the group was going on vacation to the Florida Keys and they invited me along.  At first, I wasn’t going to go with them because I had other plans.  But they increased the pressure on me until I gave in and changed my plans.  After that trip, I knew without a doubt that I would marry Tim.  In fact, when I got home, I called a friend and told her that I met the man I was going to marry.

When I look back on the timing of all this, I am amazed at how perfectly timed out the meeting was.  Had I met Tim just two or three months earlier, it would not have worked.  I was not in a place where I could be in a relationship with someone.  Another coworker who rarely talked to me (in fact, I was rather intimidated by her) was married to Tim’s best friend.  It was her who ramped up the pressure on me to go with them on the trip.  I remember clearly her coming into my cubicle and saying, “What the hell is more important than going to the Keys?!”  I replied, “Nothing?”

I am amazed now to see how God was working in my life, even when I wasn’t a Christian.  There were so many dominoes that had to fall just perfectly for me to meet Tim.  I told my secret.  Then I moved to Florida with my best friend, and she helped me get a job with her at an engineering company and she helped me find George.  At that company, I also worked with Tim’s best friend’s wife and her best friend.  I finished counseling and two months later they asked me to go waterskiing with them.  I had worked with them for two years and never before had they asked me to go waterskiing with them.  Then they asked me to go to the Keys which is where I really got to spend time getting to know Tim.

Only God could have orchestrated that so perfectly.  It still blows my mind that He did that for me, even when I didn’t know Him.

Florida Keys     May 1989

Where is God?

May 7, 2012

Today has been probably one of the hardest of my life.  I’ve gone through a lot of stuff in my life, including two days where I just couldn’t even get out of bed.  But none of that compares to seeing my daughter endure the worst pain of her life.  It breaks my heart and it is so frustrating to be so completely ineffective in helping her.  You know it’s bad when I am excited that I figured out how to make a giant icebag to wrap her legs.  It’s such a small thing but at least I was effective in helping her somehow.

So today I am drawn back to a passage that finally helped me answer a question that long burned in my head and heart about the sexual abuse.  “Where were you, God?”  In my bathroom, I painted Bible verses as a border.  I did the verses based on the theme “Emmanuel, God with Us” because that is something that I struggle with in my faith.  When I am at a low point, God always seems so far away.  So I chose verses that work with that theme to remind me of his never-ending presence.  There is one passage that, on the surface, doesn’t really match the theme.  When you really think about it more though, it fits perfectly.

It’s the passage that really helped me past a big hurdle in my faith.  It’s also one of the few verses that I can quote verbatim,

“Jesus wept.”

                      ~ John 11:35

It’s also the passage I talked to Kelsey about on one particularly tough night when she tearfully asked, “Why?”  In other words, why is this happening to me?  My answer was simply, “I don’t know.”  And then we talked about how the “why” questions just tend to be cancer to the soul and we need to try hard not to dwell on them.  So, instead we talked about “where is God in all of this?”

I told her the story of John 11 and the death and resurrection of Lazarus.  Jesus got word early on of Lazarus’s illness but he waited for two more days before making the journey to Judea.  He wanted to make sure that Lazarus was good and dead before he got there so there could be no other explanation for his resurrection.  All along, he went with the idea of raising Lazarus from the dead.  He knew what he was going to do.  When he was a short distance outside of Bethany, the sisters, Mary and Martha, heard of his arrival.

Martha went running out to meet him but she didn’t give him a warm and fuzzy greeting.  No, she said, “if you had been here, my brother would not have died.  But I know that even now God will give you whatever you ask.”  I think she was ticked off that he took so long to get there but she acknowledged God’s presence.  He told her then that he would resurrect Lazarus.  He knew exactly what he was going to do.  He basically was saying, “Don’t sweat it, I got this covered.”

Yet, when he saw Mary’s and the other Jews’s grief, he was “deeply moved in spirit and troubled.”  And then, “Jesus wept.”  But why?  Why would he be grieved when he knew that he would raise Lazarus from the dead?  I think it is because he feels our pain.  Plain and simple.  He feels it as deeply as we feel it ourselves.

Where was God when I was going through the things I went through?  He was right there beside me feeling my pain too.  Where is God when Kelsey is going through what she is going through?  Right there beside her feeling her pain too.

I see graces in this, though admittedly they are hard to see right now.  I see them in friends and family supporting us the way they do.  I see them in all the people, even people we don’t know, praying for Kelsey and for our family.  I see them in the X-ray tech that came out of the elevator tonight at 11:00 on his way home.  He was the tech who took x-rays of Kelsey yesterday.  Aron and I were standing in the main lobby of the hospital wondering how we are going to get change for my $10 bill because the parking garage only takes $1 bills.  Everything was closed.  When I saw him, he remembered me and saw the stress on my face and my tear-filled eyes and asked if he could help.  I told him my dilemma and he pulled out his wallet and gave me change for my $10.  He said, “That really ironic because I never have cash.”  I said, “That’s not ironic, that’s a God thing.”  He agreed.

I don’t know why Kelsey has to endure this now.  I choose not to dwell there because it just makes me mad and bitter.  I do know that God loves all of us and He knows and feels the pain we are all going through.  I pray that He will put His healing hand on her.

The Emphasis Makes a Huge Difference.

May 3, 2012

In one of the old Loony Tunes cartoons, one of the characters (I sure wish I could remember which one!) was practicing declaring his love to his girlfriend.  He wanted to tell her he loved her so he was trying to figure out just the right way to say it, “I love you.  I LOVE you.  I love YOU.”  It’s a scene that has always stuck with me (even though the character did not) because it so simply showed the importance of where you place the emphasis.  Each of those three sentences means something different.  Austin Powers made the same point: “I put the emPHAsis on the wrong sylLAble.”

These illustrations always come to mind when I reflect on a verse that is hanging in my office:

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”
                                                                    ~Jer. 29:11

God says, “For I know the plans I have for you…”  He knows them, I probably don’t.  He has the plans, I don’t.  It’s not my plan, it’s not in my control.  He has plans for me to grow and flourish.  He has good will towards me.  HE loves me.  He LOVES me.  He loves ME.

I’ve had my struggles during this season of Kelsey’s illness.  I struggle to find the sense in such senseless pain and suffering.  I struggle to know how Romans 8: 28 (“that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose”) will work out in a way that makes it all worth it.  But, if I truly believe that HE LOVES ME, then I have to believe that He has a plan that will allow Him to be glorified through all of this.  I have no idea what that plan is.  In the depths of my soul, I long to know it.  But, it is the difference between knowing there is a plan for us, and knowing our plan.