Sunday, October 26, 2014

Choose Life or Death

Photo Courtesy of Flickr

My surgeon looked me in the eye and said, “The infection is in the bone.” He followed with talk about blood test results and “inflammatory markers”.

His words confirmed my fear. The first round of IV antibiotics, though nearly killing me, had only moderately destroyed the bacteria eating away my body.

With mild hesitancy, he spoke of more IV antibiotics. I said, “When can we get started?” Before leaving the clinic, we had surgery scheduled to insert a central IV in my chest the next morning.

It wasn’t until evening that I recognized the choice my doctor had given me. I could have chosen not to treat this infection and my physical body would die. Or, I could choose treatment with newly formulated IV antibiotics that could be very difficult on my body.

This death would usher my spirit into heaven where there would be no more tears. No more pain. My broken earthly body would walk again, and I could dance with Jesus all day long.

To choose death by refusing treatment would relieve me of many responsibilities. My death would also neutralize God’s plan for my life the moment I chose it.

God reminded me of my promise to Him: to tell every person I meet about Jesus. To tell them of His love, grace, mercy and forgiveness for all. From the least to the greatest on earth, all are invited

Next, God reminded me of my blog, Snapshots: Devotions from Life. With a readership around the world and here in the United States, my devotions carry the Word of God boldly to people I will only meet in heaven.

By evening on the second day, I knew God’s plan for my future would not be easy. Overwhelmed by my faithful decision to live for Christ my emotions took over and tears of great sadness and joy streamed from my eyes.

Earl and I covet your prayers. Please pray strength, peace and rest for our bodies, minds, souls and spirits. Pray death to the infection. Pray we have the Joy of the Lord every day.

“I eagerly expect and hope that I will in no way be ashamed, but will have sufficient courage so that now as always Christ will be exalted in my body, whether by life or by death. For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. If I am to go on living in the body, this will mean fruitful labor for me. Yet what shall I choose? I do not know! I am torn between the two: I desire to depart and be with Christ, which is better by far; but it is more necessary for you that I remain in the body. Convinced of this, I know that I will remain, and I will continue with all of you for your progress and joy in the faith, so that through my being with you again your boasting in Christ Jesus will abound on account of me” (Philippians 1:20-26 NIV).

In Christ,

Friends, please remember to share this devotion? People are being touched around the world for God.

Sunday, October 19, 2014

Not Even a Sad Smile


“I said ‘Go!’ damn it!” Daddy said with a hard shove to Mommy’s back. She stumbled forward a few steps and stood still on the porch. Daddy repeated his words with more expletives.

Mommy cried quietly without fighting back and seemed to have no control over her body. She could barely stand, let alone walk. Daddy continued prodding until she was down the front steps and standing next to our car.

My three sisters and I sat on a worn blanket in our front yard that early spring morning crying as we watched them fight.

“Why do you have a suitcase, Daddy?” I asked. “Where’re you going?”

“I’m taking your mother to the airport. Say goodbye.”

“Say goodbye to Mommy? No!” we all cried.

No hugs or kisses. Not even a sad smile. Daddy threw the suitcase in the backseat and shoved Mommy in the front seat of our little white Corvair. They drove away.

Mommy and Daddy had fights all the time but they’d never left us. We stayed on the blanket until Daddy came home three hours later. He was alone.

“Girls, your mother has moved to California.”

Life went on as if Mommy had never been there. We were four lost little waifs who needed their faces washed and their hair brushed in a little town called Meredosia in Illinois.

No one seemed surprised. No one but us, her children.

This scene took place in April 1968.

As my sisters and I grew into adulthood, we each attempted to reconnect with our mother. We all found an empty shell of a woman we didn’t know. Beaten down and broken, Momma barely existed.

I know now that God had a better plan for the home than what my parents showed us. By God’s grace, I accepted that plan and intend to pass it on to others, including to my own daughter.

“Wives, submit yourselves to your husbands, as is fitting in the Lord. Husbands, love your wives and do not be harsh with them. Children, obey your parents in everything, for this pleases the Lord. Fathers, do not embitter your children, or they will become discouraged” (Colossians 3:18-21 NIV).

“The eyes of the Lord are on the righteous, and his ears are attentive to their cry; but the face of the Lord is against those who do evil, to blot out their name from the earth. The righteous cry out, and the Lord hears them; he delivers them from all their troubles. The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit” (Psalm 34:15-18 NIV).

In Christ,

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Sunday, October 12, 2014

Upside Down

Daddy jumped off the horse drawn sled before it came to a stop. “It’s a tornado, he yelled. We unharnessed the horse, Oscar, and let him run.

I could see the funnel cloud then and though it looked far away, the wind was already there. It grew stronger and whipped around me.

As I leaned into the deafening wind I heard Daddy say, “Berta, tighten the ropes on this side of the tent! We can’t lose it!” He went to the far side and I started on my side. Rope after rope I released the lock and pulled the rope as tight as I could by hanging on it and relocked each one.

I was on the last rope when the tornado hit. It lifted me off the ground and turned me upside down. As I held on to the rope I screamed, “Daddy!”

No one could hear me. I couldn’t even hear myself.

Then, just as gently as the wind had picked me up, it set my feet on solid ground. When the roar ended, my legs buckled.

“Berta, you OK?” Daddy asked. I didn’t think he would ever believe what happened, so I just said, “Yes.”

We had only been living in the bottoms a couple of months and every day brought a new experience. The Army surplus tent, where we stored all our essential tools and supplies, only had two tears in the top. One on my side and one on daddy’s.

When I remember being upside down that spring day so long ago, I feel peace. I cried out for my daddy and God responded.

I didn’t know God then, but He knew me. After many years in Christ, I learned a lesson from this scene. Even back then, my heavenly Father had a plan for my life. He heard my cry and saved me.

God has allowed many trials in my life and many people to help me through them.

Praise be to God!

“The Lord is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold” (Psalm 18:2 NIV).

“He set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand” (Psalm 40:2 NIV).

 “Then Peter began to speak: ‘I now realize how true it is that God does not show favoritism’” (Acts 10:34, NIV).

In Christ,

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