The Cost of My Freedom

               We were living at Fort Lewis, Washington when the call came. We had lived there for seven months and my husband, Larry, and I were expecting our first child in three months.

SFC William T. John

               My Daddy was career Army so our family had moved every three years since I was born. One unusual occurrence happened over and over to our family and one other family. We met this family in Okinawa, Japan.  The Beery’s then received orders to go to Schwäbisch Hall, Germany. The next year, we got orders for the same place. When we left Germany with orders for Fort Gordon, Georgia, we left Bob and Angie and their kids behind. Daddy remained assigned to Fort Gordon over the next ten years, only away for one-year assignments every couple of years. In September, 1970, Daddy went to Vietnam.

                Larry returned from Vietnam in March, 1970, with orders for Fort Lewis, Washington. I happily discovered Bob and Angie were stationed at Fort Lewis. It was so nice to know we had friends waiting when we arrived at our destination – 3,000 miles away from home.

               On December 17, 1970, Angie called to tell me that something had happened to Daddy and I needed to call home. Momma had called her so I wouldn’t have to learn the bad news over the phone, but Angie couldn’t bring herself to be the messenger of such devastating news.

Compiled by
Steven John

               I called home and asked, “What’s happened to Daddy? Is he alright?” Momma’s reply was, “Cathy, your Daddy’s dead. Didn’t Angie tell you?” I can still hear her saying those words every time I think about that day.

               The rest of the day was spent on the phone with the airlines.  It was so near Christmas all the flights were at near capacity. Once the agent knew our situation, she bent over backwards to try to get us home. We finally settled on a route from Seattle to San Francisco to Atlanta to Augusta, every leg leading us closer to home.

               On flight day we landed in San Francisco a little late and missed our connecting flight to Atlanta. Again, the airline showed compassion and drove us to a hotel for the night and picked us up the next morning in time for the new flight they had booked us on, all at their expense. We finally made it to Atlanta. The departure gate we needed was on the other side of the airport and we had limited time to get there. We must have looked like cartoon characters as a pregnant woman carrying her blue Samsonite train case was pulled along by a man trying to get both of them to the gate on time. By the grace of God we made it and landed at Bush Field in Augusta after traveling for two days and hop scotching our way across the United States.

               Daddy’s body arrived at Bush Field a week after his death. Larry met the flight and escorted Daddy to the funeral home. He viewed Daddy first and gave the okay for the rest of the family to see him. The Army had done a great job of preparing Daddy’s body, dressing him in full dress uniform with all of his medals pinned to his uniform.

As we celebrate Independence Day this week, I am painfully aware that freedom isn’t free. My Daddy bought my freedom to live in a country where I can speak, write, and worship as I please.

Is there someone you know who made the ultimate sacrifice for your freedom?  Leave a comment about them here and add something to your celebration this year in remembrance of them.

Living joyfully in a free country-

Cathy

Unfailing Love: A Deeper Look into the Life of Hosea

          Please welcome Rita Schulte as my guest blogger today. She is a licensed professional counselor in the Northern Virginia/DC area. Enjoy her insights into the life of Hosea and leave a comment about how this information impacts you.  Blessings of joy - Cathy


          Marry a whore. Keep her as your wife. She will betray you continuously, but you must love her and never leave her. You will be rejected continuously. You will be seen as a fool. Your life will be painful. Your reputation challenged. You will need to trust me. You will need to depend on me. You will always need to forgive, always show unconditional love, and always remain faithful in spite of your feelings of betrayal.

           Who would ask such a thing? ---God did—of the prophet Hosea. Why? He likes using the dramatic to drive home a point. God uses real-life people like you and me to demonstrate the commonality of our struggle. But the purpose of this story illustrates something profoundly deeper. God is telling us the story of his heart here. By using the sanctity of the marriage bed, and its defilement-- something he knew we could understand-- he shows us something of his pain regarding the betrayal of the children of Israel. Did you catch the part about Hosea loving his wife and never leaving her? Close your eyes for a moment and freeze-frame that scene. You’ve discovered your spouse has been unfaithful. Not once but dozens of times. This is a person you thought you knew. This is a person you trusted. The truth has seared your soul like a hot iron. Every part of your being cries for justice. Hurt outweighs reason. What should you do?

          Now, think about the worst betrayal you have experienced. Close your eyes for a moment and recall the pain. Now imagine you have to experience that pain every day for the rest of your life. And you have to do it with love. By now, most of you are probably thinking, “No way! I wouldn’t do it. I couldn’t do it." But that’s what God does. You may be thinking, Ok, but he’s God he’s supposed to love unconditionally. You’re right. And he does. Over and over he demonstrates his faithfulness to us in spite of our rebellion, just as he did with Israel. He does it to paint a picture of his heart toward you and me. Don’t get me wrong—he was angry at Israel’s betrayal and continual idolatry. But consider this:  here in this story, as always, mercy is remembered in the midst of wrath. Rejection of his children is not an option. God never leaves for a better offer. His love is unfailing and his mercies are new every morning.

          The story of Hosea provides a powerful window into the heart of God and how his heart breaks over our constant infidelity and wandering. While this story is symbolic of God’s relationship to Israel, it is nonetheless applicable to each and every child God has loved and desired intimacy with. I believe God’s heart is saddened under the weight of our lack of faith and trust in his goodness. I believe he is disappointed that we often choose not to see the love of his heart toward us. And just as he lamented over Jerusalem in Luke 13:34, I think his heart is broken at how quickly we forget him to chase after another. So consider this; God wants to show us that even though we whore after other things, even though we don’t trust him, even though we rage at him and blame him for our plight—just as the children of Israel did—he waits patiently for us, constantly showing us the mercy and compassion of his heart.

           So, the next time you’re tempted to believe no one understands your pain----remember the story of Hosea, and how God demonstrates his faithfulness to us in spite of our wandering hearts.

"O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who continue to kill the prophets and to stone those who are sent to you! How often I have desired and yearned to gather your children together [around Me], as a hen [gathers] her young under her wings, but you would not!" Luke 13:34 AMP

Rita A. Schulte is a licensed professional counselor in the Northern Virginia/DC area. She is the host of Heartline Podcast and Consider This. Her shows can be heard on 90.9FM in Lynchburg, Va. and 90.5 FM in NC, and soon to launch on Christian Life Internet Radio. Her book, Sifted As Wheat: Finding Hope and Healing Through the Losses of Life is currently with Hartline Literary Agency. Follow her at www.siftedaswheat.com, on FB at Rita A. Schulte, MA, LPC and twitter at heartlinepod. Her blog Life Talk Today is www.siftedaswheat.com/blog.

Is that Stop Sign Moving?

Huge windows covering two-thirds of each wall gave me a panoramic view of the scenery outside as I ate lunch in the Japanese restaurant. The scene was full of life – people moving here and there, mountains, a school yard, industry, a gas station – most of which I wasn’t noticing because I was eating with a dear friend, my granddaughter and my great granddaughter. 

But then, out of the corner of my eye, something caught my attention. Was that what I thought it was, a stop sign moving down the road? A small hill blocked out all but the sign itself. The sign appeared to float toward us. I blinked my eyes and it was still there. I asked the other girls at the table, “Is that a stop sign?” Just about then the Department of Transportation utility truck carrying the sign high and proud above its cab moved into the picture and everything was explained.

This incident reminded me of another moving stop sign from years ago. My Daddy, an Irishman who loved his ale, had stopped at the corner bar after work. As he headed home, he dead centered a stop sign, leaving the indentation of the metal post from the grill to the window. The next day Daddy told Larry (later to become my husband), “Larry, I don’t know what happened. That stop sign just jumped out and hit me.”

What might God be telling me through these two stories? What is the function of a stop sign? A stop sign says to me, “This is as far as you can go without stopping to assess the road ahead.” A stop sign presents a choice – be lawful and come to a complete stop (obedience), don’t stop at all and suffer the consequences (disrespect for the law, myself and others), or pretend I’m going to stop and then roll through the stop sign at the last second (hypocrisy, trying to fool myself and others).

A moving stop sign is of no use at all. It brings confusion. Child psychologists say that it is important for children to know their boundaries. Though they may try to push the limits, when the limits are enforced it gives children a sense of comfort and security. In the adult world, pushing our boundaries farther out, one bad decision at a time, soon brings disorder and destruction similar to a wreck caused from running a stop sign. Can you imagine the chaos in a world with no stop signs?

Thankfully, God has placed the Holy Spirit within me to whisper warnings to me when I get close to stepping over the line. Just as if I were pulling up to a stop sign, I have choices. Obedience is always the right choice and brings me joy. I don’t always make the right choice, but I know what my choices are. When the options seem constricting, Holy Spirit nudges me again with the truth that God has my best interest at heart and His way is always the best way.

God gives each of us boundaries. How do you respond to His boundaries for you?

Look for the joy in your world today-

Cathy

My Extravagant God

Please welcome Kimberly Rae, my first guest blogger. Each Thursday I will post an offering from a guest writer. Be sure to leave a comment.

Beauty:what is it?  Roses, sunsets, music, love?

I think of a rose on the brink of maturity, opening slowly, softly, to the first welcome rays of the dawn.  In celebrating its beauty, I celebrate my God. 

God did not have to make roses, nor did He need to create the sunrise.  Yes, the reasons the earth circles the sun are all scientific enough, but God did not have to add the extra brush strokes of orange, purple and pink across the sky each morning and evening.

Birds are necessary in their own right, but God did not have to make their songs so sweet.
The sense of touch is necessary, but God could have made it a mere biological necessity without any feelings of joy or comfort or security in it.
He could have made life with no music.  It is not necessary for our existence like oxygen or water are.
Nature speaks of God, the Bible says so.  Nature itself says so.  So what should we hear from all the extra touches God created to infuse our lives with beauty?  The very fact that we can recognize beauty and cherish it is in itself an extra gift.

These wonders do not portray a distant God of wrath and condemnation; they sing of a God who loves. A gracious, tender and extravagant God, full of mercy and compassion.
Yes, there is evil in the world.  There is harshness, horror, filth and poverty. But sin brought this on, not the Savior. He is the giver of life, joy, peace, love and all other good things.
God whispers love and tender care into every flower and every sunrise.  If we have ears to hear, and eyes to see, in God we find all beauty.

“Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above.” 

James 1:17 NKJV

Kimberly Rae has lived in several countries overseas, but now health problems keep her in the US. Her first novel, Stolen Woman, a Christian suspense/romance novel on international human trafficking, made the amazon bestseller list. Find out more at www.stolenwoman.org, read Kimberly's real-life adventures on her blog, www.stolenwoman.blogspot.com, or contact her on her Facebook Page: Human Trafficking Stolen Woman.

Family Secrets

            Thirty-some years ago when times were a lot different than they are now, even in the small rural area where we live, we had a neighbor who was a champion at pulling information out of people. This neighbor didn’t have any children of her own but she loved children and they loved her. Occasionally our four-year old daughter, Kelly, would decide she was going to walk up the road and talk to the neighbor.

            Kelly was a talker herself and was easily enticed to tell everything she knew, or what she thought she knew. As she was going out the door, I’d always say, “Now Kelly, don’t tell all the family secrets.” This went on for several months before Kelly stopped as she was going out the door one day, put her hands on her hips, and with dramatic flair said, “Just what are the family secrets anyway?” I laughed and told her not to worry about it because if she didn’t know them, she couldn’t tell them.

            Cute stories aside, family secrets aren’t really anything to toy with. When I was twenty-one, my mother told me a family secret. I have been burdened with it every day since then. It is a life changing, hurtful secret for the ones involved. I don’t know what my mother was thinking when she divulged it to me. Maybe she was looking for a means of confession and absolution for her part in it. Maybe sharing it with me lessened the load she carried.

            In my research on the word “secret” as it appears in the Bible, I found Old Testament Hebrew words translate as: to be ashamed, disappointed, delayed, thing that is hidden, to hide, a mystery, inward council, weaken or become weak. New Testament Greek words translate as: hidden inwardly, concealed, and private.

            I’m sure my mother was ashamed and disappointed with herself so she hid it away inwardly. The problem with delaying the truth is that, eventually, the weight of carrying it weakens your resolve and you tell someone. For every person who knows the truth of the situation, there is the additional worry of knowing they might weaken and tell someone. The cycle continues until the thing that was meant to be hidden, concealed and private becomes public and it takes on a life of its own, destroying the lives of those involved.

            You may be wondering about now how there could be anything joyful in this revelation. It is hard to find, but when I dig deep enough, I do find reason for joy. In the forty-plus years I’ve held the family secret, I have not weakened. The Holy Spirit has kept my lips zipped anytime I was tempted to spill the beans. I have spent many sessions with The Father over this. He has been faithful to answer my questions and show me the consequences to revealing this truth. Anything that drives you to a deeper relationship with your Creator brings joy. Two scripture verses have helped me stay strong.

“Out of the overflow of the heart, the mouth speaks.” Matthew 12:34 NIV

“Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me.” Psalm 51:10 ESV

            What experiences have you had with keeping a secret? Is there a word of advice you can share with my readers?

This is the day that the Lord has made. Let us be joy-filled and glad-

Cathy

On the Other Side of the Shift

In my first blog, (A Shift in the Universe) I explained the premise of a hospital clown’s mission: changing the atmosphere in the patient’s room for just three seconds causes a shift in the universe. It’s a proven scientific fact. One of the reasons I enjoy hospital clowning is because I know that over and over each visit, I am doing something to change the outcome of the day for the patient, a family member or one of the health care professionals.

A few weeks ago, God allowed me to be on the other side of a shift in the universe, not causing the shift but benefitting from it. I am forever changed.

It happened one Sunday after church. My husband and I went to a local buffet to eat lunch. We sat in the back dining room with some friends. When I came through the door into the main dining room to serve myself, I immediately sensed that something unusual was happening.

And then I saw it. My pastor was standing in the kitchen door praying with one of the cooks. It was fervent, deep, meaningful prayer, not a few token words to satisfy the request for prayer. The air was electrified. I was pulled closer to the two men as though every molecule in the room was moving toward them.

My heart has been overflowing with joy since that encounter. I am thankful to have a pastor who will stop what he is doing to pray, really pray, for a soul in need. I am also thankful for the man who realized his lack of power in his situation and, by joining with a brother in Christ, turned it over to God who is never lacking for power and answers.

When calling on the Father, it only takes two willing souls praying in agreement.  The Amplified Bible describes it this way: “For wherever two or three are gathered (drawn together as My followers) in My name, there I Am in the midst of them.” Matthew 18:20

               I am overwhelmed to have been in the presence of I AM at lunch that day.

               How do you handle the curves in the road in your journey? Please share with my readers. We’ll all be at that point at some time. Give us something that will help us hop right over those bumps.

Have a blessed and joy-filled day-

Cathy

Oritis and Other Maladies

“When are you going to blog about me, Grandma?” asked my twelve-year old granddaughter, Morgan, after she read some of my posts that included mentions of other grands. We talked about it for awhile, considering one approach or another, with no success. Some of the stories we thought about would embarrass her, but still she was serious about wanting her time in the spotlight.

I have had the pleasure of being present when all four of my grandchildren were born and when my great granddaughter was born last year. I’ve seen them all take their first breath this side of Heaven. It's an awesome thing to be part of.

Morgan is the only grand to be ushered into this life with the help of a midwife. I was concerned about my daughter’s choice at first, but my fears were allayed when I found out the delivery would be in a hospital and help would be available if needed.

Morgan - Six Months Old

The midwife was wonderful. She maintained a calm, controlled atmosphere in the room making gentle suggestions. After Morgan arrived she was taken to the nursery. I was gazing at the newest member of our family through the nursery window when the midwife came in after caring for my daughter. She checked Morgan’s vital signs, weighed her, and tested her reflexes and other functions.

Then the most amazing thing happened – she started dressing our baby and, as she did, she softly prayed blessings over Morgan. How could life be anything but good when it starts that way?

Morgan has always been a character, doing quirky things that make us smile. She is her mother’s duplicate in looks, actions, temperament, and outlook. Morgan has grown up in a medical atmosphere. with both her mother and aunt being nurses.

Lots of Morgan’s playtime mimicked the medical language she heard at family gatherings. When she was about five years old, her grandpa was lying on the couch reading a book while Morgan played nearby. She brought a long plastic tube with corrugated edges (the kind you can swing overhead and it whistles) over to him and shoved it in his mouth. She said, “You don’t feel good. You need a feeding tube.”

The real shock came when she came back in a few minutes and, with no warning, jerked it out of his mouth nearly pulling his teeth out. “You’ve had enough to eat,” she said matter-of-factly and moved on to her next patient.



Morgan at her
Dance Recital

When she was about two and a half, she came hobbling into my bedroom one day bent over and holding her hip. That day, her “oritis” was bothering her. And it continues. A few weeks ago she was spending the night with us and she was hurting all over from a go cart near-accident the day before. “Do you think I have artherfibermyitis?” she asked. I had to laugh.

I feel so blessed to be Morgan’s grandmother. She is a uniquely made, highly blessed and favored child of the King. She keeps me smiling with her commentary on life. You never know what she might say next. Wherever God leads her, it gives me great joy to know that He chose me to be her Grandma. We make a great pair!

Do you have a grandchild story you’d like to share with my readers today? Leave your comments below.

Show love to someone today and make their journey a little more joyful-

Cathy

Surprise!

The room sparked with excitement as guests passed the word, “She’s here! She’s here!” Peeking out the window, we could see the car carrying the guest of honor as it slowly approached the entrance to the building. As the guests stood to their feet, Merri came through the door and the whole room erupted in a chorus of “Surprise!”  It was hard to tell who was more ecstatic – the guests or the honoree.



Dottie, Merri and Jewel in the Funny Picture Booth

               The event was Merri’s 40^th birthday celebration. Crepe paper streamers and other decorations were hung in such a way the room was transformed into a carnival. Game centers placed around the room kept the party goers entertained as they moved freely from one to the other. Some spent their time in the beanbag toss area, while others played Pin the Party Hat on Merri.

A Funny Picture booth kept everyone laughing as hats, boas, glasses, and other paraphernalia truly did make for some funny pictures.  “Dottie” and “Jewel,” Christian clowns, helped convey the carnival theme. Balloon hats and animals helped put everyone in a festive mood. Bingo and line dancing were popular, too. For the last activity, all the guests went outside for a Silly String fight. What a battle!

Merri's special birthday hat

Merri spends her weekdays working at the Vocational Rehabilitation Workshop. Local businesses support the workshop by contracting with them to have repetitive tasks, sub-assemblies and sorting done by workshop participants. The workshop also teaches life skills to its clients. Other than family, Merri’s party guests were her friends from the workshop and a group home.

Merri dancing with friends

It was a delight for Dottie and Jewel, to spend time with people who know how to take pleasure in the tiniest things – getting a beanbag in the hole (or even close to the hole), dancing with friends, sharing lunch conversations, wearing a funny balloon hat, playing with silly string. One of Merri’s friends asked us for a picture. When Dottie gave it to her, it became an occasion for jumping and clapping and an exclamation of, “This is my lucky day. I can’t believe you gave me a picture. I can’t believe this. Thank you.” My heart was warmed and filled with great joy that such a small gesture made such a big difference to someone.

What do you do in your life for the pure joy of it? What small gesture could you make this week to brighten someone’s day? Please share with my readers.

Go out with joy and spill it on the world around you-

Cathy (a.k.a. “Jewel”)

God Loves Ducks, and Me

Emma at dance practice

               On May 4, 2012, I had a deep theological conversation with my four year old granddaughter, Emma. Before we left the house, we had been reading a book about ducks and she was quite interested in the fact that ducks don’t get wet in the water. As I fastened her into her car seat we were talking about other things and I thought we had exhausted the duck subject.

               As we pulled out onto the main road into town, Emma asked, “Why do ducks don’t get wet, Grandma?” and this is how the conversation went from there:

Grandma – “That’s just the way they are made” I said, thinking she would recall what we’d just read.

Emma – “Ducks were made?” she said in amazement.

G – “You know who made ducks.”

E – “God. And He made me.”

G – “That’s right.” 

            E – “Why does God like ducks and me?”

G – “Because He made you and ducks and He likes everything He made.”

E – “Even the bad men?”

G – “He even likes the bad men because He made them, too. He is hoping one day they will turn back into the good men they were when He created them.”

E – “Oh.”

And then we were through and moved on to other topics. Isn’t it amazing how a child’s mind works? In a few brief moments we moved from a dry duck in the water to God and creation and on to the condition of the world. It all came to an abrupt stop with one simple word, “Oh.”

Just two days later the Sunday School lesson was about building a firm foundation for the future by using every present opportunity as a learning/teaching experience. Here’s how the Bible puts it in Deuteronomy 6:6-7 (NIV):

“And you must commit yourselves wholeheartedly to these commands that I am giving you today.  Repeat them again and again to your children. Talk about them when you are at home and when you are on the road, when you are going to bed and when you are getting up.”

I am overwhelmed that God trusts me to spread His Word to the little ones around me. It amazes me that I am Plan A when it comes to telling people about Jesus, and there is no Plan B. I am charged with building on the sure foundation that others have faithfully left for today’s generation. God is giving me opportunities to do just that. God has faith in me and I have faith in Him. And that brings me great joy!

May God bless you and keep you

May His face shine upon you

And give you peace and joy-

Cathy

Sweetly Smiling Maidens in Aprons

As several friends entered the large room together, a young girl came running up to her mother. The girl’s eyes were sparkling and her face was alive with pride as she said, “Momma, I cooked pancakes.” Her mother heaped praise on the girl as she ushered us to the serving table. This was the Annual Shrove Tuesday Pancake Fundraiser for the local Girl Scout Troop.

            We each filled our plates with pancakes, sausage, and agonized over our choices of syrup including homemade strawberry and blueberry. At the end of the serving line, eager Girl Scouts were waiting to help with drinks.

            Each girl, adorned in a cute little apron, was excited to be there, more than willing to help where help was needed, and to make each guest who came to support them feel welcome. Young ladies taking their assignments seriously refilled our drinks quickly.

Second and third servings were offered and encouraged. The girls would even bring it to you, so you didn’t have to get up. When we had finally eaten our fill (or more), the girls whisked our dirty dishes away and cleaned the table.

There was enjoyable conversation among friends while we waited for the Silent Auction forms to be snatched up signaling the last chance to bid was over. The prizes were awarded to the winning bidders. When the tally for the night was announced, the girls had earned $1,500.00, a good reward for the busy little bees to use for special projects the rest of this year.

            I am proud to know some of the local leaders and their passion for training girls to be future successes and leaders in whatever career they chose. These ladies are to be commended for their dedication, but they aren’t doing it for that. Theirs is a heart of love for girls. They give up some of their personal time to lead these girls, and they wouldn’t have it any other way. Thanks, Ladies!

100th Anniversary Trefoil

            The Girl Scout organization is celebrating its 100^th anniversary this year. They hold a long tradition of preparing girls for the future. Their Promise, Law, and Slogan speak to their focus:

The Girl Scout Promise:

On my honor, I will try:
To serve God and my country,
To help people at all times,
And to live by the Girl Scout Law

The Girl Scout Law:

I will do my best to be
Honest and Fair,
Friendly and Helpful,
Considerate and Caring,
Courageous and Strong, and
Responsible for what I say and do,
And to
respect myself and others,
respect authority,
use resources wisely,
make the world a better place, and
be a sister to every Girl Scout. 

The Girl Scout Slogan

"Do a Good Turn Daily"

            Do you know a Girl Scout Leader? Send her a note of thanks for what she is doing for America’s future. That can be your good turn for today. Volunteer to help with a troop activity, sharing your special expertise with the Girls.

Local Girl Scouts on an outing

            Do you know a Girl Scout? Encourage her to stay in Scouts and benefit from the entire program. Support her when you can – buying cookies, helping with expenses, or telling her about your time in scouting if you were a scout.

            I have fond memories of that night when the sweetly smiling faces of maidens in aprons and their leaders took the time to feed me and make me feel special – and that brings me joy!

 May your days be filled with joy moments-

Cathy

Day Before Yesterday, Forty-One Years Ago

             Day before yesterday, forty-one years ago, our firstborn child died. Our beautiful Stacie Anne was born on April 23, 1971, with a heart defect. The picture of health at nine pounds, six and a half ounces, she lived one day. 

            My husband, Larry, received orders for an Army tour of duty in Germany two months before my due date. My doctors would not allow me to travel overseas with him, saying it wasn’t safe. I planned to stay at my mother’s house until I delivered the baby and we could join my husband.

The hospital contacted the Red Cross in Germany when I went into labor and entered the hospital at Fort Gordon, Georgia. When Stacie died, they did a wonderful job of getting Larry home.
He arrived just in time to pick me up at the hospital. I was discharged and we drove directly to the Funeral Home and then on to the cemetery for the graveside service.

There is something about burying your child that goes against the natural order of the universe. Children are supposed to bury their parents, not the other way around. Some days it feels like it happened yesterday. Some days it feels like it was all a horrible nightmare I dreamed in another lifetime.

Given the premise of this blog, you are probably asking yourself, “How could there possibly be any joy in this situation?” A young friend and her husband delivered a baby daughter last week. Born at twenty-three weeks, AddieRaye Elisabeth didn’t survive. I offered to talk to my friend when she is ready. The thought of helping someone through the valley of the shadow of death, makes Stacie’s life count and that makes my heart sing.

I have been thinking about the lessons I’ve learned throughout these forty-one years.  In retrospect, I see that I have been a good student, absorbing the lessons that God had for me. It’s been quite a process and it would take numerous blog posts to cover it all.

I learned that God is God and I am not. He is in control and I am not. This was a hard one for a perfectionist. In the six years I had been a Christian, this was the first time my faith had been tested, and it was a huge test. In the healing process, I came to strongly believe God continually has my best interests at heart and is working out thousands of tiny details to make sure all things work together for my good.

In those periods when my heart ached and I couldn’t understand, I clung to the promises in I Corinthians 13:12 NCV, “Now we see a dim reflection, as if we were looking into a mirror, but then we shall see clearly. Now I know only a part, but then I will know fully, as God has known me.” 

I looked forward to Heaven so I could get the answers to all my questions. I steadied myself for the wait, and it was enough to calm my hurting heart. God loved me enough to allow me to hold on to those verses for as long as I needed them.
It has only been in the last ten years that I have come to realize that once I get to Heaven and see Jesus, nothing that occurred here on earth will matter. There will be no questions needing answers.

            God has proven himself faithful to me by providing what I need each day. All of my physical, emotional and spiritual needs have been and will continue to be met.

            And that gives me joy!

Be blessed today and don’t miss the joy-moments along the way, even in the hard times-

Cathy

The Master's Touch

            The Community Ash Wednesday Service was scheduled for noon at an Episcopal Church in town. I thought there would be more people there, but the small church was perfect for the 40-50 who came to receive the ashes and begin the season of Lent together.

            As the ashes were placed on each participant’s forehead in the shape of a cross, our thoughts were directed toward Jesus and what He did for us on the cross. Thus begins the 40 day period of self-inspection where we focus on Jesus and what we might need to change about ourselves to be more Christ-like. Some denominations encourage members to give up something that is dear to them and spend more time before the Father, listening.

            A story was told at the service about an auction. Several items had been sold when the auctioneer picked up an old, battered violin. “How much,” he asked, “for this old violin?” The crowd was silent. “Come on now, somebody start and we’ll see where we go,” the man said. Bids came in slowly, one dollar, two dollars, and then three. An old man, bent at the waist and limping slightly, came forward and ran his rough hands over the well-used violin. He placed it under his chin, ran the bow over the strings, and made a few adjustments. He began to play and out flowed the loveliest tune and captured the audience.

            The man laid the violin down and went back to his seat. The auctioneer peered out at the folks and said, “Now what am I offered for this beautiful instrument?” The bids tumbled in quickly, one after the other, and the violin was sold for thousands of dollars.

            What made the difference?  The Master of the bent old man had touched him and given him the ability to free the beautiful music hidden inside the violin. Because the Master saw the potential in the violinist, he was able to see the potential wrapped up in the rough looking instrument.

            Have you been touched by the Master? I don’t believe God has given over the creation of His precious children to a committee. I see Him painstakingly choosing and weaving together all the parts that make up each new baby. When He breathes life into us He breathes potential into us as well.  

Oh yes, you shaped me first inside, then out;
you formed me in my mother's womb.
I thank you, High God—you're breathtaking!
Body and soul, I am marvelously made!
I worship in adoration—what a creation!
You know me inside and out,
you know every bone in my body;
You know exactly how I was made, bit by bit,
how I was sculpted from nothing into something.
Like an open book, you watched me grow from conception to birth;
all the stages of my life were spread out before you,
The days of my life all prepared
before I'd even lived one day.

Psalm 139:14-16  The Message   

Do you know how precious you are to Him? What difference would it make in your life if you realized how valuable you are because you’ve been touched by the Master?

I’d love for you to leave a comment for my readers. What are you thinking after reading this message today?

Praying your day will be joy-filled-

Cathy

The Tomb is Empty!

             The minister at a little Methodist Church I attended opened his Easter sermon that year with this question, “Do you know what you will find if you visit the grave of Buddha? Buddha bones.” He continued this line of questioning with several other well known religious leaders of the past, concluding that their graves all hold their bones. Then he asked, “Do you know what you’ll find if you visit the tomb where Jesus was buried? Nothing! The tomb is empty. This is one of the anomalies that separate Jesus from all other religious leaders-past, present and yet to come.”

Very early on the first day of the week the women went to the tomb, taking the spices they had prepared. ² They found that the stone had been rolled away from the entrance. ³ So they went in, but they didn’t find the body of the Lord Jesus. ⁴ As they stood there puzzled, two men suddenly appeared to them, clothed in dazzling robes. ⁵ The women were terrified and bowed with their faces to the ground. Then the men asked, “Why are you looking among the dead for someone who is alive? ⁶ He isn’t here! He is risen from the dead! Remember what he told you back in Galilee, ⁷ that the Son of Man must be betrayed into the hands of sinful men and be crucified, and that he would rise again on the third day.” ⁸ Then they remembered that he had said this. ⁹ So they rushed back from the tomb to tell his eleven disciples—and everyone else—what had happened. ¹⁰ It was Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and several other women who told the apostles what had happened. ¹¹ But the story sounded like nonsense to the men, so they didn’t believe it. ¹² However, Peter jumped up and ran to the tomb to look. Stooping, he peered in and saw the empty linen wrappings; then he went home again, wondering what had happened.   Luke 24:1-12 NIV 

Although I shouldn’t be, I am continually amazed as scientists puzzle over how to prove/disprove the truth about Jesus. I watched a History Channel show a few nights ago about the Shroud of Turin. I watched as one scientist went from a controlled, analytical approach to a man who was so choked up he could barely speak as the evidence unfolded. One of the odd things found on this cloth was a three dimensional code that allowed them to reconstruct the face of the man buried beneath the cloth. They spent a lot of time trying to recreate the kind of light it would have taken to make this imprint. According to previous experience there are only two types of light, pinpoint and scattered, and they never operate at the same time.  They found that it took both kinds of light, radiating simultaneously at mega-power, to create what happened to the shroud on resurrection morning.

Through blood evidence present on the shroud, they were able to conclude the person covered by this shroud had endured a horrible beating, scourging and whipping, being almost beat to death. The burial cloth would have been draped over the body and then another cloth was wrapped around that and tucked in and folded in a precise way securing the spices that the women used to anointed the body. Bands of the same kind of cloth would have been tied around the body at four intervals to keep everything neatly in place. The evidence on the shroud proved that this occurred in this case. The unusual thing about this particular person is that he left his burial clothes behind, still tied, still wrapped just so, and still laying in the same position. Amazing, isn’t it?

Personally, I don’t need scientific proof that Jesus lived and died as the Bible says. I have proof enough in the transformation of my heart on the day that I accepted Him as my Savior and all the days since. What a wonderful, caring God I serve who would go to these great lengths to prove it to people who do need the concrete scientific evidence. He allows the occasional unearthing of some long lost treasure which points to the truth of Jesus and gives a few people the knowledge and desire needed to decode the evidence.

Are you the logically minded person who needs proof or are you the person who believes based on the knowing in your heart? What really matters is that you believe that Jesus is the Son of God, sent to earth to suffer and die in your place for the forgiveness of sin, and that He now lives in Heaven with God and is preparing a place for you. The tomb is empty and Jesus is alive and that fills me with joy!

 Encourage my readers by leaving a comment about how you came to believe in Jesus.

May your day be filled with joy moments-

Cathy

Stepping into the Unknown

I was ten years old and my sister was five when Momma came home from the hospital without the baby brother we had waited so long to see. Neither of us could understand it, but, finally, after three weeks of additional waiting, he was coming home. He was the tiniest baby I’d ever seen. He was such a miniature that we made him a bed in a small dresser drawer. Bathing him wore him out to the point that we could only bathe him every other day, sometimes every third day. He was supposed to eat two ounces every two hours. Eating tired his little body out so much that it took him at least forty-five minutes to drink the required amount. By the time he finished a feeding it was almost time to start over.

One night shortly after Tommy came home, Momma woke me up about ten o’clock. She handed me this tiny bundle of humanity and said, “Please feed him for me. I’m so tired I just can’t do it.” With that she went back to bed and left Tommy and I in the living room. He and I stepped into the unknown and took hold of it that night. Momma caring for him during the day while I was at school and me caring for him at night quickly became our “normal” routine.

Tommy-6 weeks

At first, I was scared I was going to break him. I didn’t really know what to do with him but my maternal instinct soon kicked in and we became the best of friends. I talked to him softly while he ate, all the while gently tapping his feet to keep him awake and interested in eating. He was such a good baby, very forgiving of my fumbling attempts at changing him and tucking him into his makeshift bed for a short nap before it was time for the next feeding.

All these many years later, we are holding hands and stepping into the unknown again. Tommy has been disabled by a degenerative spine disease for about fourteen years. Over those years, he’s had numerous surgeries and is constantly in pain, even with a pain medication pump implanted in his abdomen. Recently his spine has degenerated even further and he is now in need of a specialist in the field of spinal surgery. Miraculously, he was able to get an appointment with a leader in the field.

Tommy’s wife and I will be leaving tomorrow (Tuesday, April 3^rd) to make our way to Bethesda, Maryland where we will pick Tommy up at the airport on Wednesday. His appointment is Thursday at 11:00am. As unlikely as it may seem to the rest of the world, we are hoping against all odds that this doctor will see Tommy on Thursday, formulate a treatment plan, and operate early the next week. We don’t want Tommy to have to make that trip again in his fragile condition.

Often when I am faced with the unknown, I am reminded of Psalm 23:4 “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me.” (KJV) At times, I even paraphrase it to suit my situation: “Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, or lay here in this MRI machine wondering if the results will be life-changing, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me.” It gives me comfort and a joy-filled spirit knowing God has gone before me to prepare the way, and He loves me enough to walk the path with me, hand in hand.

This week as we traverse highways we’ve never traveled before; visit towns we never imagined we might go to; and meet with medical professionals we’ve never encountered before, it gives me great joy to know that we don’t have to be afraid. We are under the protection of a loving God who is guiding every step of this journey into the unknown.

Have you ever been thrust into the unknown? What gave you courage to make the journey? Please leave a comment and share your experience with my readers.

Praying your day will be “joy-full”-

Cathy