I Barely Spoke

Fear held my heart in a clenched fist when Earl introduced me to his father, Tucker. My past with my own father had already cast a dark shadow over our meeting. 




Tucker, a lawyer and a judge, had the power to tear my life apart. I barely spoke to him.

When I started writing about my childhood, I asked Tucker to read a rough draft. Reading about my father’s attacks baffled him. He said, “I don’t understand how a father could do such things?”

That confession changed how Tucker and I communicated. He was a man my own father’s age who I grew to love.

At some point, I began to call Tucker “Dad”. Earl and I frequently traveled to Memphis, Tennessee, to visit Dad and share a meal with the rest of the family.

I loved Dad and still do. I cherish the memories of talking with him alone. He often called me in the middle of the day just to talk a few minutes. Soon, I found myself thinking of him, and so I’d call him.

I saw Dad three days before God took him home. He held my hand and told me again, “I don’t understand why a father would do what yours did.” He followed with, “I love you, Berta.”

After Earl and I prayed with Dad, I attempted to pull my hand back but Dad held it tight. He wanted to sing before Earl and I left his bedside to go home. He led us in the hymn Blest Be the Tie That Binds.

Blest be the tie that binds

Our hearts in Christian love;

The fellowship of kindred minds

Is like to that above.

Dad sealed our relationship through this verse. In the years we had, he touched my heart with the love of an earthly father.

Dad had worried I wouldn’t receive my birthday card before he died. When it came I called him one last time, “Thank you, Dad. I love you.”

Because Tucker loved me with all my history, I believe my Heavenly Father loves me even more.

“Happy All Saints’ Sunday!”

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith” (Hebrews 12:1,2 NIV).

In Christ,

Berta

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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,

Berta

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Not Even a Sad Smile

“Go!”

“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,

Berta

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