Posts Tagged ‘Rescue’
My Apologies
Posted on: September 19, 2014
As Christians, we often talk about the broken world. Since the 4th of July, I’ve personally experienced this when my body broke down. For a few days, I thought I’d caught a common cold until the symptoms were no longer common and eventually drove me to seek medical help. As the doctor patiently explained how sick I was, she also brought the good news that I’d be feeling better soon.
Obviously her definition of soon and mine aren’t the same because here it is almost seven weeks later and I’m still ill. Getting better, for sure, but still reeling from the fatigue, from being numb to the world, shut in from enjoying things I love and trying to understand why this illness caught me.
There were nights I prayed to God mostly to reach out and grab hold of Someone who could heal. In the darkness, I’d question Him. “Why?” I’d cry out struggling sometimes to breathe through the coughing, focusing solely on myself and my needs.
Despite my self-absorption, God was always there. I’d feel the warmth of His love in those moments of despair. His love covered me in the middle of my doubts, when the voice inside told me I will never be well, even during the times I tried to reason away His love, He was still there.
There were times when I didn’t like the person I was during this illness. They balanced out the times when I liked myself more – when I was more patient, more empathetic, more thankful for the health of earlier times. But in the illness, I learned you have to keep running to your Maker. Even when I was afraid for my life, that there was only this illness and very little else, God was with me whenever my fear seemed overwhelming.
Isaiah 55: 12 – 13 says, “There will be no more sickness or dying, and all that’s sad will come to an end. You’ll hear it then—how the mountains will shout for the everlasting joy being born, the thorns in the thickets will no longer grow, and all the trees in the field will clap their hands.”
Even though this world is broken, and I along with it, it is still good. There is beauty here. God is glorified throughout the day. I found Him in the phone calls from friends, the offers of food, the cards, the prayers. Despite how my illness miniaturized my world to my bed, I never had to go hunting for the joy of His ways.
My apologies to you that I haven’t written since early July, but I also thank you for your grace of letting me heal, of sweet recovery and most of all, of experiencing Jesus as doctor – the one who heals not only my broken body, but my broken soul. The fallen world is still fallen and we as the Body of Christ cannot stop it. But when we show up, when we shine our shaft of light through the darkness, when we bring the warmth of a greater love, we show the world that wounds can be openings to the Beauty within us.
Today, I am praying that you will keep showing up, keep looking up, keep courageously letting your life be a spark for God’s glory.
I don’t want to go!
Posted on: March 27, 2013
The symptoms hit me during a Saturday morning meeting. A low grade headache, nausea and muscle aches came on suddenly. All I wanted was the comfort of my bed. It wasn’t the onset of the flu. No, I recognized the symptoms as burnout brought on by a long, busy week. Because of the frequent times I operated outside of my comfort zone that week, my body was simply telling me, “I need some rest.”
Not wanting to give in to my fatigue, I did the next best thing or so I reasoned. When I got home I grabbed a good book and laid down on the couch. My thought was to read a chapter or two, then get up and tackle my list of chores. But you know the story…I got comfortable, warm, contented. Quickly the book was put aside and I took a much needed nap.
When I woke up, my body felt rested; so much so I also didn’t want to get up. I was cozy, relaxed, ready to camp out on the couch for the rest of the evening. Only one problem, though. I had signed up to serve communion that evening at church. That’s when my contentment started speaking to me. “You don’t really have to go. It’s a big church. They don’t need you. They have plenty of volunteers. Someone else will do your work.” I snuggled even further under the blanket lingering longer on the couch.
Yet the Bible is very clear about situations like this. Matthew 5:37 tells us, “Let your ‘yes’ by ‘yes’ and your ‘no’ be ‘no.’” A war began stirring in my soul. I didn’t want to get up. I simply didn’t want to go to church that evening. I wanted to savor one of the few moments of rest I had that week. “I don’t want to go,” I explained out loud to my dog curled up on the floor at my feet.
But I had given my word.
Reluctantly, I rose from the couch and drove to the service. There I discovered the most interesting dynamic: God didn’t tell us that our word should be our bond to be mean. No, He told us that to safeguard our character. Had I stayed on the couch that evening, I doubt anyone would have noticed. But I would have sold out my reputation, my integrity for a few extra moments on the sofa. In the long run, it just wasn’t worth the price.
After distributing the elements, I returned to my seat and held them preciously in my hands. They offered me redemption of another kind; soul redemption, an eternity with my creator. Having struggled to be there, I saw the sacrament in a new light.
When you say ‘yes’ to God, you become a living, breathing, walking display of His glory. All of us are just one step of obedience away from the next great, godly adventure and the mountaintop moments that follow. Are you willing to abandon what makes you comfortable to embrace what makes you fulfilled? Are you ready to exchange cozy for the confidence He provides?
Not only did God love us enough to die on a cross, He loved us enough to send a roadmap to a more joyful life. All we need to do is let our ‘yes’ by ‘yes.’
Last weekend, I attended a thought-provoking conference. This meant staying overnight, so prior to my departure, I researched accommodations on the Internet. I wanted to go big this weekend, filling it with life and wild joy, so there were two criteria: closeness to the conference site and a place where I could feel pampered. Surprisingly I found a hotel that didn’t break the bank, also!
At the afternoon break, checking into my hotel seemed a good option, so I programmed my GPS and off I went. Handy little devices, these talking wonders…except when they aren’t. Because I am always anxious blindly following their directions, I try to have a vague idea of where my destination is located. I did on this day; still I followed her directions diligently. So imagine my surprise when she led me directly to Naval Mine and Anti-Submarine Command Complex. I kid you not. 
Fortunately, the MP at the gate directed me to my nearby hotel. I loved the bright, whimsical décor. What I loved even more was God’s presence in the room. God crafted a meaning to the GPS’ misdirection. He’s always like that, if we listen close enough. With sacred hands, He works behind the scenes weaving pure poetry in the midst of the crush and swirl of life.
The message was clear: “I won’t leave you. I won’t misdirect you. You can trust me and I’ll keep you on the right path. Trust Me, Myra.”
It continually amazes me when God gives us a valuable life lesson in something as simple as a wrong turn. I desired those words right then; craved them in my very soul. My current insecurities had made me vulnerable to my fears.
So God practically screamed into my life: “Exciting things are happening. I’m changing you way down deep.” Despite my doubts and wrong turns, I do feel something new is coming in my life. The problem is I can’t see the path and that’s scary. But with faith, I continue moving forward on His path and my trustworthy God always makes sure there is something solid underneath my footfalls.
That’s what walking by faith is all about…unable to see the destination, inching forward, taking the next step. Even in our lowest, most fragmented moments, when we feel most out of control, God is there. When we are left wondering, “How will I get from here to there?” God shows up and gives us energy, hope and inspiration.
All we need do is recklessly fall into His arms.
Tears
Posted on: November 13, 2012
I’ve always had a tender heart. When first married, my husband was astounded by how much I cried. “She even cries at commercials,” he’d explain to friends in utter frustration. For a thinker like him, living with a feeler like me became a difficult transition.
But I love my tears – even when they embarrass me, like when I am seeing a movie with friends. I look around and it seems I am the only one in the theater moved to tears by the intensity of the scene on the screen. “Geez, Myra, get with it! You are an adult,” I silently scold myself.
But we all cry. And we cry for different things: happiness, sadness, feeling overwhelmed, hopelessness or even just plain tiredness.
Tears also have a purpose. They are a great stress reliever; they lubricate our eyes; remove irritants and contain antibodies to fight infection. How cool is that!
But what I like best about tears is that they express emotions so powerful they simply can’t be conveyed in words. Tears capture it all – the disappointment, the defeat, the drama. Messy and bold, striking thoughts jumbled in water, they are an effective way of letting go. My tears remind me I must embrace rest, grace, prayer and self-care. 
But not because I want to rid myself of crying. Oh no, quite the opposite!
Psalm 56:8 states: You have put my tears in Your bottle. Are they not in Your Book? All my tears stored in God’s bottle! What wonderful imagery of God nurturing me.
Tears are honest and they are about admitting need, even when tears of joy are shed. They call out to the sense and strength of God’s spirit. Of realizing life is about being instructed by God’s voice and not fear and weakness. Tears are about grounding yourself to God at time when sifting through life’s intense emotions requires a greater perspective.
Tears remind me of the discipline of holding on to God; of accepting His choices for my life. For they are the ones that will ultimately set me free and get me through stressful seasons. And God is all about making the unbearable bearable through His presence. Following in His footsteps brings a clear-mindedness not possible at the height of a whirling, intense season.
Tears cut to the quick. They tell us we are over our heads and need to rush into God’s arms to find safety, love and acceptance.
The bottle God created to hold my tears may be much larger than most, but that’s what brings joy to my heart. For each tear was a pathway to understanding the supreme love God has for me.
What are some of your practices for rushing into God’s arms when you are in the midst of a rough, intense crying spell?
Entirely
Posted on: October 17, 2012
Founded in 1776, the Mission at San Juan Capistrano was a Christian outreach to the indigenous people of the area. Still a working parish today, its 10 acres include historical ruins, restored buildings and lovely gardens. While visiting the Mission’s grounds, I sat in the peaceful courtyard, drowning out the traffic noise of modern civilization, easily lulled into imagining how pleasant life was when the mission was surrounded mostly by vineyards.
I envied the slower pace of earlier inhabitants. They didn’t have to deal with an over-flowing email box, schedules so crowded an electronic device is needed to store all the appointments or the frenetic speed of California’s crazy traffic. I imagined them working lazily in the fields, enjoying nightly community dinners where laughter and music abounded plus strolling through the garden drinking in its aromatic beauty while deep in prayer.
That feeling stayed with me all the way to the parking lot, but abruptly ended the minute I turned over the ignition in my car. The moment the engine caught, I asked myself, “Who was I kidding?” These folks worked hard; their days longer and filled with more drudgery and exertion than mine. They did life without refrigeration, pure drinking water, electricity, telephones or computers. They battled disease at every turn without antibiotics, X-rays or vaccines.
And yet, every Sunday, they stopped everything to worship at the Mission. For the early inhabitants, life revolved around God. They listened to the Mission’s bells calling them in from the fields at night, gave up working on Sundays to partake of the Eucharist, spent years building the church – meaning they hauled stones sometimes by hand from over 6 miles away! Which started me wondering if I merely tack Christ on to my busy life? Is He just another app to get me through the day? Or do I give Him everything I am?
Their Christianity was not a half-in existence, nor should mine be today. Christianity is all-in, devoting your life to Him and Him alone. They knew making Jesus the Lord of your life requires dedicating all you do to Your Heavenly Father. Jesus warned his disciples, “If anyone would come after Me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for Me will find it.” Matthew 16:24-25.
As a Christian, He becomes your life. This is sometimes hard to determine in mine given my unwillingness to find the time to daily study His word, prioritize solitude to be with Him and listen to His still small voice. I don’t ever wish to make my relationship with Christ something that I just check off my list and neither should you.
Because when I allow Him in, when He truly becomes the Lord of my life, when a true union occurs between Him and me, – when I hand my life entirely over to Him – a sweetness like none here on earth pervades all my life. I want Him to have all of me!
While I Was Gone
Posted on: September 11, 2012
Last night, I sighed as I opened my front door, returning from a vacation that was more a marathon than an opportunity for recreation. There was no rhythm to my time away, just rush, rush, rush. Ran from one activity to the next trying to see it all, do it all, visit with as many people as possible.
The trip reminded me of an early childhood memory. My family loved car trips. These were pre-Internet days, so at evening’s end, instead of searching the Internet, we searched the “vacancy” signs in front of motels. We were greatly disappointed when we found a fairly decent-looking one, but the “no vacancy” sign out front was lit. 
That memory came wafting back to me because while I was gone, my soul began to feel vacant since I had hung a “no vacancy” sign on my life. For nine days, I spent almost every waking moment involved in my overbooked schedule with little time spent in sacred communion with God.
All sorts of activities vied for my attention to the point I experienced a broken union with Christ. One of the first things I unpacked was my journal, but it sat right where I placed it on Day 1 until I packed it up right before I left for home. While I did pray every night before I went to sleep, that isn’t really enough, is it? We need more than that to deeply fellowship with our Creator.
Yet, while I wasn’t seeking God, I was overcome with joy because I strongly felt His presence in all my activities. That’s because He lives in us, so His sacred love permeates all we do. He was right beside me while I was visiting with friends, in the dentist’s chair or even trying in vain to clean out the basement. All I needed to do was acknowledge His presence.
1 Thessalonians 5:17 says simply, “pray without ceasing.” For many years, I struggled with that. Imagining that meant being down on my knees with my hands folded together, I never thought unceasing prayer was possible. How does God expect us to pray every moment of every day? That question haunted me until these overbooked days where one activity ran into another ended and the truth slammed me. Our lives should be one giant prayer to God.
I’m not saying to forget about those private extended times alone with God. We most certainly need those. But by acknowledging God’s presence in every aspect of our lives, we will experience His sacred love in everything we do.
God’s love is powerful – enough to pervade the nooks and crannies of our lives. That includes visiting with friends, cooking dinner, doing the laundry or even packing up your suitcase. I might have forgotten to welcome Him into my presence, but He never forgot to stay with me; that’s how much He loves me.
Those nine vacant days were a wake-up call. My time away taught me I want my life to be more Him, less me. From now on, I want to spend my days acknowledging Him, striving to follow Him even in the busyness of life.
What about you?
Lame
Posted on: August 26, 2012
It was long, hard walk. Beads of sweat gathered on my forehead. My legs were burning; my breath coming in fits and stops because it hurt to fill my lungs with air. But the triumph I felt made all the exertion worthwhile. I made it; I finally made it – to the end of my driveway!
You see, I know what it is like to be lame. After surgery, walking was next to impossible. No, let me rephrase, it was impossible. Physical therapy helped, but recovery took longer than expected. I grew impatient, crabby. Then, one day the physical therapist said words that brightened my soul, “Let’s take a walk!” Delicious words, forward moving words, words that finally spoke about leaving my recovery behind and embracing wellness. I was ready. “Let’s go,” came my reply, wearied from too much time in bed.
But, it wasn’t that simple. The spirit may have been willing, but the body takes longer. So, by the time I made the round trip between bed and driveway’s end, I was spent. And ready to climb back under the covers.
Despite the triumph, I also remember the humiliation of it all. Before my surgery, this was a distance I covered with little thought. My driveway wasn’t that long – a few car lengths at most. The degradation of that slow, torturous walk chipped a hole in my spirit. I wanted to feel less lame, to skip, to jump…to feel affirmed, less burdened.
So the words Mephibosheth have always retained a special place in my heart, “What is your servant, that you should notice a dead dog like me?” (2 Samuel 9:8) A dead dog! Yep, that’s what I felt like that day.
Lame after an accident, fearful of King David, since he was the son of Jonathan and that lineage could threaten David’s claim to the throne, Mephibosheth is ushered into the palace and given a place at the royal table for the rest of his life. All because of a covenant David made to remember all Jonathan’s relatives with kindness.
God’s grace shouts through David’s kindness. We are all weak, lame and fearful before our King. We have all separated ourselves from the King, but because of God’s covenant with us, He seeks us out and showers us with the riches of His table. We can delight in our fellowship with Him and receive His grace which gives us more than we have ever lost.
But notice what David’s kindness doesn’t do. It didn’t remove Mephibosheth’s lameness. In this world, no matter how healthy, we are nevertheless weak and lame. It is God’s favor that restores our dignity and gives us a place of honor. God never wastes a hurt; He crams our lives with His love even in our most difficult seasons.
God comforts us through our distress. He soothes our wounds. He loves us so fiercely that He seeks us out even when we don’t always turn to Him. And in the middle of our hurts, He showers us with love. He loves us first before we even think about loving Him.
While I eventually regained my ability to walk, I’m still lame, frail in spirit mired by my wrongdoing. That makes me realize even more how much He loves me. God is bigger than this world, stronger than the ills of this world. Yet He never leaves me.
No matter what humiliation this world brings, no matter how difficult the steps we must take in life, this world is not all there is. God, like David with Mephibosheth, has not left us orphans.
Never Out of Reach
Posted on: August 22, 2012
I really thought I mastered it. I honestly felt I understood precisely how far to place things away from the counter’s edge so my German Shepherd, Lily, couldn’t get them. At eighteen months, I believed she outgrew the curiosity of grabbing things placed there. I was sorely mistaken.
Silverware, paper, oven gloves, all found a way into her mouth! The most terrifying, though, was the pill incident. In my computer room, distracted in a Skype session with my out-of-town husband, I heard a crack come from the dining room. Investigating, I found Lily practically smiling at me with an empty pill bottle hanging out of her mouth. It was a full container purchased from the pharmacy only the night before.
I panicked. Abruptly ending the session with my husband, I desperately searched the house from top to bottom. No pill bottle top; no pills. With dusk setting in, my choices were limited; hunt in the backyard or immediately put Lily into the car and break land speed records to get her to the nearest animal poison control. Reluctant to put her through medical intervention, I opted to search.
Near the end my backyard investigation, I saw something white sticking out among the blades of grass. Could it be? Yes, it was the top of the bottle. Now where were the pills? In the growing shadows of evening, my flashlight beam illuminated them – faint robin’s egg blue tucked amongst the lawn’s dark blades. I picked up all I could find, quickly went inside and counted them. All of them were there, now once again safe in the orange bottle.
Only when the bottle was placed on a cabinet’s shelf did my body react -folding in on itself, collapsing on the floor – too tired to do a victory dance, too exhausted to yell at Lily. Torn between strangling her or burying my head in her neck. The latter seemed more appropriate. Burrowing my head in her fur, tears started in earnest. How close had I come to losing her? And then I lifted up a quick prayer to God that she was more interested in the pill bottle than the actual pills.
When the tears stopped flowing I realized how much I’m like Lily. How often do I strain my relationship with God for something that looks satisfying; that piques my interests? How often am I deeply tempted not to miss the pleasures of life even when they bring grief, fail to glorify God or, as in the case of Lily, can cause me real, physical harm?
In the darkening gloom of my kitchen, I had a moment when everything stopped. I realized how truly blessed I was – not because disaster was averted with my dog – but because I am loved beyond measure by a God who sees all the times I stumble off His chosen path for me; detouring to something unworthy of both Him and me.
Alone on the dirty kitchen floor, His love caved in on me; a love so strong it hangs on to me even on the most uncertain of days. Even when I’m turning away, running away from Him.
Unlike the items on my counter, His love is never out of reach. And I’m truly in awe of all His love blessings even in the randomness of my days; aware I have no guarantees – except one. That nothing “will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 8:39)
Perseverance
Posted on: July 23, 2012
Great drama always comes boiling to the surface at the Olympic Games. The 1992 Games in Barcelona were no exception. A British runner by the name of Derek Redmond had his sights set on winning his 400 meter semi-final heat and running in the finals. About 250 meters from the finish, Derek’s hamstring snapped and he fell to the ground. Medical personnel rushed over to help him, but he waved them off and grimacing in pain, got up and hobbled down the track desperately trying to finish his heat.
His father, seeing all this and knowing his son needed help, barged past security, ran down to the field, wrapped his arms around his son’s shoulders and walked with him to the finish line. Once Derek crossed the finish line, the crowd of 65,000 rose to give him a standing ovation.
In 2 Timothy 4:7, Paul writes: “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.” (NIV) There are days when we all long to quit. When life becomes just too difficult, too painful to move. Yet, we pick ourselves up and we keep going. Sometimes, there are friends and family cheering us on. They walk the entire course with us providing support, “Come on, you can do it! Don’t give up, you are almost there.”
But then there are other times when you look around and you are all alone. There is no one with you, no one at your side and no one cheering you on. Loneliness and discouragement set in. It’s easy to give up on those days. We become so discouraged we lose sight of the finish line.
But rather than giving up, it is on those days, I need, we all need, to listen more closely, more intently to the still small voice of our Heavenly Father. Like Joe Redmond, Derek’s father, God is there to pick us up when we fall, there to hold us when we cry, hug us when we are lonely, cheer us on when no one else wants to take on that job. Even more importantly, He loves us just as we are; whether we win the gold medal or are disqualified like Derek Redmond. (Since Derek was helped across the finish line by his father, this officially disqualified him. Olympic records state he did not finish the race.)
Our Heavenly Father is cheering you on. He’s saying, “Keep going. Don’t give up! You are never alone. You are precious to Me. You can do it. I will help you every step of the way.”
We need to pay attention to the times God whispers just how much he loves us and is for us. It is not a matter of whether or not he speaks these words to us. It is always a matter of whether we listen or not.
What are you afraid of?
Posted on: July 6, 2012
In the middle of a routine phone conversation, I suddenly stopped and asked my husband, “What are you afraid of?” His answer surprised me! “I’m afraid of life.” I’m not sure if his answer was serious or tongue in cheek. Probably will never know since I quickly replied, “I’m afraid of dying.”
I don’t have to convince myself I’m afraid of dying. One night last week, my dog started barking at 2AM, then again at 4AM, finally waking me up for good prior to 6AM. Every time Lily woke me from a sound sleep, I was convinced some axe-murderer was breaking into the house to do bodily harm to all its inhabitants. With my heart pounding out of my chest, my thoughts immediately turned to tomorrow’s headlines because that’s when our bodies would be discovered by some innocent neighbor who just happened to see the blood dripping from our balcony. (Okay, maybe I do watch a bit too much TV, but it could happen, right?)
On Monday, I’m having surgery. It’s pretty routine, but it is also scary…especially since it is happening to me. This is ironic coming from someone who not only has had surgery before – and came through with flying colors – but generally doesn’t let much scare her. But I must be honest and tell you I’m not happy about this road God has me on right now. 
My friend who is driving me to and from the hospital sent me a lovely email. In it she said, “I hope you aren’t worried about this. God’s got a plan to use this somehow for His glory, even if we don’t understand how or why.”
And that got me to thinking – has my fear kept me from doing things that glorify God? I know it has. There are times I haven’t shared the gospel because I was afraid, times I haven’t tithed the full amount because I was nervous about bills, times I’ve turned down ministry opportunities because I let my worries get the best of me. While I was wearing myself out in the process, all the while God was saying, “Dear daughter, I’m here, right here. Won’t you let me guide you?”
My pre-surgical fretting was making me sick, literally ill – until one night while watching the evening news, I heard a snippet from a commencement speech. The speaker said, “Be the heroine of your own story, not the victim.” And I thanked God in that moment because those courageous words struck a chord in my heart.
In Isaiah 43:1, God boldly proclaims, “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine.”
Peace promptly invaded my soul because the times I’ve acted on that verse, really lived it, said “yes” to God even though I was literally quaking in my boots, I was blessed more than I could have ever imagined.
My friend is correct – God is using my medical condition for His glory. My fear is reinforcing my dependence on Him, my desire to get through surgery is comforted by His strength and the next time I’m asked to say “Yes” when I’m afraid, because I’ve experienced His comfort amidst my fear, answering in the affirmative will be so much easier.
What are you afraid of? Where can you rely on God’s strength to take you down the road He’s carved out for you? Where can you follow God just a bit more closely so you become the heroine of God’s story for your life?
Ultimate Joy 