Homecoming

Tags

Cancer, Faith in God, Hope, Life Journey, Marriage, Unanswered Prayer, Waiting on God

We’re here.

God answered all the prayers we scratched on a few faded-yellow one inch post-its which we stuck on the side of our mirror. Complete remission for Duwayne (check!!!!!!!); a reliable car to take us back to California, (it broke down about half-way, still, it did get us here on time, so check!); a job with benefits that I would enjoy (check); money to make the trip from Tampa to Los Angeles, pay for rent and for Duwayne to go to law school (check, check, check). These are a few of the things we scribbled as reminders to God and ourselves of the things we needed to begin a new life together. Battered by some really difficult situations over the past three years, we felt needful of a fresh start in our marriage; thankfully, God did not hold back in giving us every desire of our hearts – even the ones unspoken and unwritten.

Now, we’re home.

We have a wonderful home erected on a foundation of many miracles and blessings. The warmth of the love of God in our lives saturates every wall, cupboard and piece of furniture in our apartment because we would have none of it without Him. Nothing good has been withheld from us, so much so that the only ‘deficit’ I can think of in our lives right now is a home church through which we can grow and serve. Over the past year and a half, though, we have been tremendously supported by many believers who may, or may not know each other. If you are reading this post, you are likely to be one of those persons who has prayed for us, encouraged us and helped to meet our financial burdens. So, in fact, there is no real deficit, as we are already connected to a wonderful family of faith.

I can’t tell you ‘the full’ of all we have experienced through this medium, however, I do want to express some of how Duwayne’s illness and healing has impacted me. Last March, while on the last leg of travelling to be with Duwayne in the hospital, I remember staring at the airline magazines in the seat pocket in front of me, thinking and just trying to deal with the shock of his cancer diagnosis and what that meant: was he going to die? I think in that moment, I had thoughts about being at his funeral, unable to cry and becoming mute for the rest of my life. I also pictured myself kneeling at the altar of Church on the Rock (Kingston), weeping uncontrollably because God had taken him from me. I imagined many horrible things and worried about the future. I was even concerned about what to say once I saw him for the first time in the hospital bed…

…and in the midst of all the chaos I felt encroaching upon me, God spoke to my heart. He said, “It’s going to get worse before it gets better, but it’s not unto death.” Those words pierced the shadows in my mind and immediately gave me hope. They were like the desperate, wheezing gasp for air when someone frantically surfaces from deep water – they’re still in deep water, but they can breathe, they can breathe.

At the time and especially during the more difficult times in our ordeal, I took those words to mean:
1. God was with us.
2. There would be times to come when I, again, would think Duwayne was going to die.
3. Duwayne was not going to die in his youth and he was not going to die of cancer.
4. God would heal Duwayne over time, not immediately.
5. God was with me.

Now, one year and five months later, Duwayne is cancer free. Hallelujah. Stage IV Colon Cancer? What’s that? God, in the wonder of His faithfulness kept His promise to me. And that’s what I want to leave with you today. There is much more to be shared about our journey, but for today, remember that God is with you in the midst of all that you are going through. He is nothing less than merciful, loving and faithful to meet you at your point of need. He is not blind. He has not forgotten, though it may feel that way at times. You have to come to a place where you just believe that God is who He says He is and that He will do what He says He will do. That has been our experience…

…and now we’re here, finally. We’re home. And we’re very thankful.

It’s Raining Grace

Tags

Christianity, Do not worry, Faith, God's love, Grace, Life Is Unfair, Life Journey, Prayer, Surgery, Trials, Why

Last March, while in the hospital recovering
from the surgery to remove the tumors on his colon, a friend brought Duwayne a small potted plant. The tag labeled it as a South African Freesia. They are as beautiful when ladened with bright yellow bulbs as they are with their elegant blooms. Immediately, I felt the atmosphere in hospital room lighten, but not just because of the plant.

Along with the Fressia, this friend brought the story of her own experience with chronic, terminal illness. She was familiar with the struggle ahead of Duwayne and me. She was also familiar with God’s grace that enabled her to live through and live beyond her fight.

My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness. The Apostle Paul learned to live by these words which came from a very present and loving Heavenly Father. He learned during a time of agonizing need, the exact nature of which is uncertain. But, whatever his ailment, I believe we can learn through our own weaknesses…hardships…difficulties that God will strengthen us Himself in all we face. His grace will rain upon us.

Two days ago, Duwayne and I went for a walk even though we knew it might rain. Eventually it did, though it was light. We pulled our hoodies over our heads, held hands and walked in mud while talking about how amazed we were that we made it through so much with what we thought was so little. We laughed at our “poor love”, pun intended. In effect though, we were amazed at how much God’s grace saturated our lives. It saturates the life of the friend who brought the Freesia and it saturates yours as well.

Like Paul, we oftentimes pray for a change of circumstance and our request is not granted. Instead, God in His wisdom says to us My grace is sufficient for you…He wants us to relinquish our meagre strength in order to live by His enabling.

Of course, this is easier said than done; however, I learned something else during our walk that will make this ‘giving over’ to God easier for me and hopefully, for you. I was enjoying the walk this weekend until it began to rain. So distraced by the rain, I paid no attention to what Duwayne was saying to me. I began to walk faster and tried to drag him along, insisting that I would get soaked. He responded, ” …a little rain won’t hurt you…” Realizing he was right, I slowed down (a little), re-engaged in the conversation and eventually we got home – happy and safe.

Now, I don’t think “a little rain” is necessarily anagolous to what you or I am going through (perhaps torrent would be more suitable), but certainly we can draw from the experience just shared. When hardship rains upon us, God won’t always allow our circumstances to change to suit our needs. We have no choice but to keep on walking in the rain – to live – in the discomfort and pain. Yet, God’s intention is not to hurt us. For with with the same rain that we are certain will wash away all hope and ruin our lives comes an outpouring of grace and more grace. Yes, His grace rains upon us and is sufficient to get us home.

Be encouraged.

Relinquish your meagre strength and abide in Him.

You have who and what it takes to make it – a very present and loving Heavenly Father and His powerful grace.

For more upliftment, click on the following link and watch the video at the top of the page. It’s a discussion around a book called ‘One Thousand Gifts’ by Ann Voskamp. She discusses the childhood ordeal with which she begins her book: http://www.incourage.me/category/bloom

Morning Rendezvous

Tags

Friendship, Habits, Jesus, Life Journey

 Since childhood, whenever I wake up in the morning, I have had a habit of folding my legs and flopping over with my forehead on the bed. Sometimes, I fall asleep again in that position. My husband thinks it’s strange, but has grown accustomed to it over the past twenty months.

In addition to flopping over, I have developed a habit of mumbling a few morning salutaions to my carpenter friend. I usually say, “Good morning, Lord.” At other times I may say something like, “I really need your help today because I don’t know what I’m doing,” or, like this morning, “I’m sorry, Lord, for…please forgive me.”

I find that my more honest moments with my friend are on the mornings when I mumble to him. He is the first person to hear my voice. He is the first person privy to the cares I went to sleep with and, or course, woke up with.

Whenever I begin my day with an open and honest conversation with my friend, the rest of my day is more peaceful and under control – even when problems come. Somehow, I worry less and become more productive with my time. It’s as if an exchange takes place, whether I ask for it, or not. I offload my problems and concerns; and my carpenter friend uploads his grace for me to do all that is required of me. Anything that comes, I can handle it with his help.

Even if I don’t know how to articulate my needs in mumbles, the fact that I go to him is enough because he knows exactly what I need. There have been times when I have told my husband that I wish I could express myself as well as he can in speech. Just yesterday, I deliberately gave my husband a look because of what he said to me (playfully). His response to my look was “use your words, hon,” (which got him another look).

It’s not easy, though, even for the most articulate person, to tell my friend what’s going on in life; what needs to change; why a certain experience hurts and doesn’t seem fair; or even to confess a wrong. The good news is, I don’t always have to know just what to say.

Through my morning encounters with my carpenter friend, I’ve realized that he understands every one of my sighs, groans and mumurs – even my silence. And he understands yours too, and will answer you. Just create (if you don’t already have one), a familiar place to meet him and he’ll be there whenever you are. Perhaps, your place could be behind your desk, at the kitchen counter, on your treadmill or the driver’s seat of the car. Wherever, whenever, spending even a few minutes with my friend, will make a big difference in a day, and in life.

“Life is like a box of…

Tags

Christianity, Friendship, Jesus, Life Journey

…puzzle pieces. You always know what you’re gonna get”.

My husband and I received some discouraging, rather disconcerting news this week. During the phone call we received, I tried to remain positive and think whatsoever things are of good report thoughts. I wanted my faith to rise; I wanted to be strong; I wanted to see beyond what was happening at that moment to a better outcome. The reality was, though, that it didn’t; I wasn’t; and I couldn’t.

Now, because of the news and my response to the news, I was a little shaken. I needed a time-out, so I slept for a while. I sometimes try to sleep troubles away, which doesn’t work. So, as expected, when I woke up, I still felt nervous. You would think that I would find a corner (I’ve heard the bathroom is a good place) and talk to my friend about it, but I didn’t.

Instead, I asked the wonderful lady I’m staying with if she had any puzzles; and she did have quite a few. I chose a 500 piece ‘Ravensburger’ puzzle, called Rush Hour. It’s a picture of lots and lots of colourful fish. So, anyway, as I combed through the pieces, looking for the edges, I began to feel at ease, for two reasons: puzzles, crosswords and things like that are soothing to me, and, my friend joined me at the table and spoke to me, instead.

For the sake of your attention, I’ll list a few of my jigsaw techniques, if you will, that my friend used to shift my mindset.

1. Be patient with the process.
2. Even though the ‘big picture’ is in pieces, trust that all the pieces are there and will fit together in the end.
3. Don’t force pieces that don’t fit together.
4. Work on another section until you find what you’re looking for.
5. If one direction doesn’t work, try another one.
6. Don’t be afraid to unfit pieces that seem to fit together, but really don’t.

As I worked on the puzzle, my carpenter friend showed me a few other things:

1. The right piece always seems to come just in time.
2. Finishing is as hard as beginning.
3. Sometimes with the big picture right in front of you (that is, the picture on the box), you can’t see what you’re making (on the table). You just have to trust that it will all come together somehow.

Life, in some ways, is like a box of puzzle pieces. We know, or at least have an idea of what ‘the end’ will look like (in life, or in a situation). It’s just hard sometimes to navigate through all the pieces.

With my friend, though, all things are possible, and he will see us through to the very end.