Praising God for Healing

This past summer I was struck with the very serous illness called sepsis. When I was admitted to the hospital, my husband was told that I was within two hours of my organs shutting down and, most likely, death. Our family and the pastoral staff of our church wrecked informed and prayers began. The physicians were unrelenting in fighting this blood infection with the strongest of antibiotics. Within forty hours, my blood pressure was stable and the infection in my blood began retreating. I felt God had chosen to raise me back to life!

A few days later, I watched the streaming of our pastor preaching on Acts 9 and the raising of Dorcas from the dead by the Apostle Peter. This solidified my belief the God had chosen to keep me alive, for his purposes. I rejoiced.

I knew, if this horrid infection had caused my death, and I entered in Glory, I would know the fullness of Christ’s healing. I could ay, with Paul, in Philippians 1:21, “For to me, living means living for Christ, and dying is even better.”

Truly, God is our Great Physician.

Background Noise of Grief

This coming Saturday, 20 September, will be the 33rd year since our eldest son, Tim, was brutally murdered in California. The excruciating grief work and, correspondingly, the difficult journey of forgiveness is long in the past now. Of course, I regularly think of Tim with both laughter and tears. But, in the past few weeks, leading to “The Date,” I am strangely stirred in my memories and my pain. It happens every year—whether I’m thinking about it or not. I realize I’m extra emotional—for seemingly no reason. Memories of Tim—both as a child and a 23-year-old man—pop regularly into my mind. And then, looking at the calendar, I’m suddenly aware that, “Oh, this is leading up to Tim’s death day,” I’ve learned to call if my “background noise.” I usually expect it—but it occurs with or without my conscious thought. As I begin journalling my feelings, God again speaks to me and renews His hope of seeing my child again. His life was not in vain. Besides all that he touched during his short years, he is now in the “great crowd of witnesses” who surround us. In times of worship, I join with this crowd of saints who are worshipping around the throne of God. Losing a child is never easy, but our God of comfort and peace is always near us. Thank-you, Lord.

The Search for Wonder

As the year draws to a close, I ask God for a “word” for the coming year. In 2024 my word is “WONDER.” It is a quote by Brian Zahnd that defines what I mean by this,

“Beauty, Mystery, Wonder. They all three go together. The primary human response to an encounter with overwhelming beauty is wonder. Wonder is the transcendent sensation we experience when we find ourselves in the presence of an awe-inspiring sunset, an artistic masterpiece, or a newborn baby. Wonder is the unique human reaction to the sublime. . . . .We wonder at two things—the beautiful and the mysterious. A life stripped of beauty and mystery is a life barren of wonder, and a life without wonder is a kind of deep poverty.”

Beauty and mystery—the very core of who our Creator God is—that is what i’m seeking as a seek “wonder.” I’m asking God to open my eyes to his wonder all around me and to choose, by the gift of the Holy Spirit, to experience (not just know about) the depth of his wonder.

As I develop this experience of God’s wonder in my life, then my life will no longer be barren and or impoverished in my soul.

Lord, I seek your WONDER in my life today. Amen.

A Sad Reality

I am writing this on a day of sadness for our nation, “9/11”—the day America was attacked and high-rise buildings collapsed. We mourn the loss of lives, but also the depth of on-going trauma that so many people still feel. But, my sadness today comes from hearing that a dear friend and missionary colleague has been diagnosed with Alzheimers. It hit me so hard to realize that another of our circle of friends are marking their days towards death and eternity. Of course, as children of God, we rejoice when one enters into eternity with his loving God and Savior. But. while on earth, we grieve. It is very interesting to me that my friend’s wife, has found a creative outlet of painting, as she walks with her husband through his “valley of the shadow of death.” The need for beauty and for using creative gifts speaks of life and the reason to enjoy life here while it is ours.

I don’t have any answers or wise sayings at this time. But, I am thrown back into the loving arms of God, who knows us and continues to love us. In Him will I find peace and comfort. His never-ending love reaches out to me in abundant ways. I will trust in Him. Thanks be to God.

Searching for God in "Thin Places"

In the fall of 2022, my husband and I took a trip that included thirteen countries; the leading of two conferences; staying with new artist staff; riding trains throughout Europe; and so much more. It was truly a “trip of a lifetime” that will probably not be attempted again by us.

One of the unique aspects of this extended trip was the planning of three “spiritual renewal” places and times just for us to meet with God. We chose three very different places, but all had a history of being “thin places” where heaven and earth seem to meet and pilgrims have experienced special times with God throughout centuries. The first place was an island off the Scottish coast called Iona. This remote destination was first established by the Celtic monk, Columba, and twelve fellow monks as a monastery, abbey and nunnery in 563 A.D. It is known as the birthplace of Christianity in Scotland. From this place, monasteries were established through Europe. We were enthralled with the testimonies of people throughout the ages who spent time in prayer and meditation there and had life-changing experiences with God. Unfortunately, for us, we were there much too short of a stay to spend the time we wanted in reflection and meditation. We felt more like tourists than people on a pilgrimage.

Halfway through our twelve week journey, we had planned a weekend in Chartres, France. The magnificent cathedral dominated the town, as we disembarked from the train. It was as if the streets were designed much like the famous labyrinth, surrounding the Cathedral Square. I was eager to enter the sanctuary and engage in personal meditation and prayer as I walked the 13th Century labyrinth, the largest built in the Middle Ages. I was stunned to see it completely covered with chairs, having only the center of the labyrinth visible in an aisle! Upon questioning one of the workers in the gift shop, I learned the the labyrinth was covered the night before and would not be uncovered until the Lenten season—seven months later. I was so disappointed. Again, my expectation of meeting with God in a special place were dashed.

Florence, Italy was the final place I had anticipated as a spiritual retreat. Specifically, I desired to spend time in the cells of the monks St. Marco’s Monastery-where, in the 15th Century a humble monk known as Fra Angelico painted beautiful paintings in these small rooms where the monks slept. This artwork was done solely for devotional purposes—not to be seen by the public. It was clearly an example of Visio Divina being done each morning by these men and women dedicated to God. For several years I have dreamed of spending time in these small cells, seeking God, and exercising my own Vision Divina. To my dismay, when I arrived in the monastery, each room was roped off at the door and all that I could do was lean into the room to see the art on the wall. I learned that some “tourist” had tried to deface some of the paintings, so the cells were not accessible any more. I was so disappointed. I begged the docent to allow me some time in at least one of the cells, but the rules would not allow it. Again, my seeking a special place to meet God was thwarted.

So—what did I learn from these experiences of frustration? After much prayer and contemplation, I realized God was teaching me that it is not necessary to have a special place to meet with Him because He was available to me anywhere and everywhere. While these “thin places” have had a significance to many pilgrims in the past, they were not the special key to experiencing a deepening relationship with God. I do believe that such places exist—they just are not required. I love beauty and I feel close to God whenever I’m in the presence of beauty—whether in nature or manmade. Wherever. . . whenever I engage with God becomes a “thin place” for me.

But from there, you will seek the LORD your God, and you will find Him if you search for Him with all your heart and all your soul. Deuteronomy 4:29