Before I go...

"But before I go, I want once more to tell you how good He is, how blessed it is to suffer with Him, how infinitely happy He has made me in the very hottest heat of the furnace. It will strengthen you in your trails to recall this my dying testimony. There is no wilderness so dreary but that His love can illuminate it, no desolation so desolate but that He can sweeten it. I know what I am saying. It is no delusion. I believe that the highest, purest happiness is known only to those who have learned Christ in sickrooms, in poverty, in racking suspense and anxiety, amid hardships, and at the open grave...To learn Christ, this is life!"" elizabeth prentiss

Sweet Anna

What a beautiful time with Anna. I had the luxury of an open- ended visit, so I could just sit with her and let the time flow.

Anna loves Jesus with all of her heart. She doesn’t question her suffering. She thanks him at the most interesting moments—moments when I would be less than thankful. She understands his goodness—even in the fact that she is 46 with a young daughter and has a viscous cancer.

That day she was having excruciating pain in her leg that no medication could seem to relieve. As we sat together, she played worship songs for me—songs in her native language of Amharic. Of course I couldn’t understand the lyrics, but the music was enchanting. Then Anna began translating for me. Her translation became her worship and the tears began to roll down my face. To see her in such pain with her beautiful hands lifted up speaking words of praise and thanks to God was almost more than my heart could take in. She reached over and wiped my tears with her fingers, saying, “He is everything!” Holy ground.

For a long time we sat in silence, just holding hands with our fingers intertwined—brown, white, brown, white, brown white. What a gift it is to have someone with whom it’s comfortable to be silent! I could see the pain, even though she rarely stops smiling, and said, “Oh my friend, I wish I could take this for you—even for a little while!” Her brow crinkled and her eyes shot toward me. She said, “Oh no my sister—this is from God for me alone. He has given you other ways to learn to know and worship and love him, but this is for me alone.” My tears started again! Such faith, such trust in her Father! Holy ground.

Later Anna asked me to rub her leg “ever so lightly” in hopes that somehow the pain would ease. “AH HA!”, I thought – “finally something I can DO for her!” As I sat next to her bed and rubbed her leg, my sweet friend began to thank God for my hands that he had made and was now using to ease her pain. She smiled at me and said, “My sister you have holy hands!” With Anna, nothing is about what is seen—it’s always about the Father and his movement in her life. She knows that everything starts in the heart of God.

Oh how I love this woman! She teaches me everyday to trust God, to give him free reign in my life and to be thankful for whatever he brings, because it is HE who brings it. He is alive and loving and eager for me to know him—especially in the depths of suffering. Certainly he has brought her to me and I treasure everyday with her. I can only hope for many more days ahead, but Anna is teaching me to appreciate whatever he allows because his love is perfect. She is such a gift. I wish everyone could know her. Hearts would be changed, as mine has!

Goodbye

Oh, how I dislike goodbyes. How do I say goodbye when someone has become a part of my heart? How do I say goodbye knowing that, on this earth, I will not see these precious ones again? How do I say goodbye knowing I can't help them anymore?

There's a crater where they've stood.

Now is the time for two life- changing words-- But God. I'm saying goodbye to them, but God never will. I'll never see them on this earth, but God has made a way for us to spend eternity together. I can no longer help and support them, but God will always care for them.

But God, indeed.

Well, a good time was had by all over the Thanksgiving holiday weekend! Older sibling and his spouse were here and we feasted at the home of a friend from Philadelphia. Yesterday we roasted another turkey here at home-- we missed having leftovers! So, today it's on to the turkey soup. Since they've gone on their way, I'll have to freeze it until they return in mid- December. Yyuuummm.

Also decorated the Christmas tree yesterday (needed to take advantage of the muscle power getting it home and in the house while it was here!). I unpacked the things I bought after Christmas last year at 75% off-- I'd forgotten most of it so it was surprise after surprise!

It seems strange (again!!) to do all this when I'm the only one here! I do enjoy the scent of the tree, the lights when it gets dark outside-- just seems strange that I'm the only one to enjoy it. There's that ache again...

So what I will purpose to do is to celebrate Christmas itself and Jesus' willingness to come to earth. I will purpose to look past the decorations, the warm fuzzy aspects of the holiday (and even my birthday) and celebrate this time of year for what it is-- a time of miracles. I'm asking God to show me those miracles all around me and fill my heart for HIS reasons for celebration, not mine.

This oughta be fun!!

Hard Words

Yesterday a sweet woman, the wife of a patient, came to my office to talk about "hard things that require hard words." She and her husband are fairly new to the hospital, but I've fallen in love with them. Such gentle spirits, so kind and loving-- towards each other and everyone around them!

It turned out that this precious woman wanted to talk about what should happen if her husband died here at our hospital, instead of at their home in Houston. She asked hard questions (how long before they take his body from me?, where will they keep him?, how do I decide when to discontinue life support if it comes to that?, and probably my favorite-- is a person actually gone when they go on life support or when it's removed?). She was very brave. As we talked I commented on her bravery and she told me, "I just love him so much that, if the time comes and he's going to die, I want to be able to completely focus on him and nothing else." Oh my heart.

We talked for about 90 minutes and she was brave and strong until the last question, which was "Will he go home with me or will I have to leave him here and have him flown home by himself?" She started to crack, tried to calm herself but just burst out with tears and deep sobs. I held her tight as her tears dripped down my neck. I wanted to scream. I hate cancer more every day.

I love these two people! They've asked me to stay near if things get bad, so I can be with them when he dies. They say they'll need me. I think they'll be fine. My deep, deep desire is that this dear man lives a long time so they have more time to love each other and show the rest of us how it's done.

I am blessed to know this couple, to be a part of their life at a time when they are so vulnerable. As much as I hate cancer, it has brought me yet another picture of love and I am thankful for that.

Contrasts

So yesterday Roby and I went for a nice ride out in the desert. We were both quite happy because it was a cloudy day, which meant it was cooler. As my mind wandered I realized I was wearing a t- shirt from a favorite place in NYC-- The Strand Bookstore. A friend introduced me to the place many years ago and I've never been the same! This store advertises 18 MILES of books! Can you say HEAVEN??? Anyway, by now the t-shirt has lots of holes in it, but I just can't part with it-- and besides it makes a great barn shirt (can't wear it anywhere civilized!).

So Roby and I are enjoying our morning ride and I started to think about that shirt in comparison to where I was at that moment. On the one hand, the shirt represents a frenzied city with all different kinds of people, food, buildings, activities, etc. Then I took a good look around me-- nothing. Dirt, scrubby bushes, tiny animal holes, the clopclop of Roby's hooves, not a person in sight. I had to smile. Odd that I can love both the energy of New York and the solitude of the desert. How wonderful that God can use both places to grow my faith! How good is God that he uses every phase of our lives to teach us and show us more of who he is. I'm so thankful that he is the same yesterday, today and forever-- doesn't matter where I am because HE never changes. What a relief.

PS-- it began to POUR rain and we made a run for the barn (1 mile?). The rain was so hard I couldn't see and was afraid to let go of the reins to wipe the water off my face! All I could do was laugh and hope Roby would obey when I asked him to stop! He did. What a good boy.

Death and Super Glue

So this past week I went to yet another funeral. This time it was that of a sweet little eight year old who died of Leukemia. Everything was pink-- the casket, the flowers, her fingernails, her lips and the little Teddy Bear wedged into her hands. I hate viewings, but out of respect to the family and their culture, I stood there beside her and asked God to bring comfort to her sobbing parents. Then I spotted the SuperGlue that held her eye lids closed. It was almost more than I could take. It was surreal-- there are SO many things wrong with an eight year old having her eye lids closed with Super Glue; SO many things wrong with her death. My heart ached-- still does.

As I left and headed home I thought about the heart of God and how he grieves beyond anything we know. He created a perfect place, with no death, no pain-- only interaction with him. Oh, what a place! I can't imagine!! But, being humans, we took matters into our own hands and that perfect world was infected, never to be the same. Now people hate, people ignore God, eight year olds die.

God must grieve over what could have been, over what we gave up, over our self- inflicted pain. But at the same time, he knows the end of the story-- that one day everything will be restored to what he intended, that we'll be with him face to face just awestruck. He must be excited to think about the day we all go home and stay forever.

Personally I plan to look for sweet little Rachel and look into her face, wide eyed (NO SUPER GLUE!!) as she takes in God's glory. What a perfect day it will be.

Death

So on Wednesday I attended my first police department funeral. A beautiful 29 year old Phoenix officer was shot by an even younger man trying to steal a car. This officer has a sweet wife, a 2 year old daughter and a 3 week old son. Had his son not arived 3 weeks earlier than expected, this young father would've never even laid eyes on him.

The entire experience was very intense with hundreds and hundreds of officers from all around the state in attendance. Several speakers talked about this young man-- mostly his love for his family and his job. He loved being a police officer and having the opportunity to make a difference. For me, the most impressive thing was all the respect and tradition with which he was laid to rest-- the graveside ceremony. After a miles- long procession, row after row of Officers stood at attention, saluted the casket. There was the folding the flag that draped the casket and presenting it to the officer's young wife, the bagpipes, the gun salute, Taps, and most moving for me, the Last Call over the police radios, part of which was,..."Goodnight, Sir. Thank you for your service. We will miss you. Over and out."

And then we all walked away, back to our lives. Part of me wanted to SCREAM at the wrongness of it all, but of course that would be socially unacceptable. So when I got out of the police car and back to my little Chevy Aveo, I did just that-- I screamed and screamed and screamed at all the pain I've seen and felt just this week . So much wrongness in this world. So much.

One day God will make all the wrong right. Today would be great.