|
| Emotions are at once both beautiful and conflicting. Being just one in a sea of Komen walkers, I had more than three miles to sort through some powerful feelings. All around me were names of women written in black marker on small signs pinned to the backs of many walkers’ shirts. Some walked in celebration and honor of friends or loved ones who have made it through the dark valley of breast cancer, and some walked in memory of those who didn’t.
Gratitude flooded my heart early on in the walk, realizing how blessed I am to have been one to come out on the other side of the valley. Having experienced a powerful sense of God’s nearness throughout the journey was maybe the greatest miracle of all. The walk with God changed me forever, and I set up an altar in my heart and mind to remind me that God is greater than any disease. He keeps his beloveds tucked gently under his strong arm as He carries them through the blackest nights.
The pre-walk devotional I read this morning said that we may see God’s glory on the mountaintop, but we find our true worth to God in the valley, the place where we actually live for his glory, the place where our faithfulness is revealed. We believe that God can do anything when we’re on the mountaintop, but when we are in the valley of humiliation, will we become a skeptic?
In the time we spend in the valley, where the path is rocky and seems impassable (and impossible), help us, Lord, to remember that you promised you’d never leave us. When we cry to you for help, you hear us. You don’t hide your face; you open your arms. We may write the names of our friends and loved ones in marker on signs to wear on our backs, Lord, but you have written their names indelibly on your heart.
| | |
| What man means for evil God can ultimately use for good. This truth is embodied in Thin Places, an unabashedly honest memoir by Mary E. DeMuth (Watching the Tree Limbs, Wishing on Dandelions). The thin places are those holy moments when "heaven and earth collide" and God reveals Himself in the midst of the pain (and pleasures) of life to offer hope for the future.
Thin Places is a primer for teaching Jesus’ sufficiency in breaking free from abuse, rejection and shame, and of giving not a curse, but a godly inheritance to the next generation. http://www.marydemuth.com/
 | | |
| “Give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” (1 Thessalonians 5:18)
How many times do I really give thanks for difficulties that come my way? Today while I was praying it occurred to me that had I not be unemployed for the past three months I would have missed caring for my dear friend Biscuit in the final days of his life. I would have missed the close companionship we’ve had since mid-October when his health began to deteriorate, and he would have been forced to spend hours during the day in the laundry room with crazy Riley (though Riley really did love and look after Bisky, too, in his own way).
Since October, friends and former colleagues who were in a position to offer freelance work have done so, acting as the Lord’s agents of provision for our family. I am grateful indeed for their kindnesses, and giving me the ability to make a contribution while keeping the writing juices flowing.
In the difficulties I am thankful for God’s compassion and His plan of hope for our lives that keeps us from despair. I’m thankful that with pain comes peace from God that passes anyone’s understanding. Thanks, God, for whispering reasons to be thankful.
| | |
| I went to the SPCA three times that day. A month-long search for the perfect family dog had come to an end. I knew I’d found him, a cute little blond guy with a heart of gold.
We visited for a bit in the “get acquainted” room. This blond mop nestled himself next to my thigh and relished the pats and baby talk that I liberally supplied. He had stolen my heart. By the end of the day, in two additional trips to the Shelter, he had stolen John’s, Lindley’s and Jared’s hearts, too.
After we got him home and in the hunt for a suitable name, John came up with “Biscuit,” a perfect fit. We were off and running in a 14-year love story with our “prayed for” pup.
Running starts from down the hall to scale an impossibly tall king-size bed, flying like the wind when unleashed at the neighborhood park, and in his twilight years, sitting Biscuit-to-thigh on the couch filled his days, and ours, with happiness. He never outgrew the need to touch his people while in the seated position.
Today, Biscuit returned to the Hand who gave this gift of companionship to us for most of our children’s lives. My friend taught me about loving unconditionally as well as aging and dying with grace – all while having eyes that reflected the love of his master.
I’ll love you forever, Biscuit.
“Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights…” James 1:17
| | |
|
|
