A Long Road Ahead

Hilly Road

In August 1979 I lost my mother to a highly aggressive breast cancer.  She had been diagnosed in July 1974, with many promises, over and over, that they had it all.  I’d also lost a grand parent to pancreatic cancer.  I saw what the disease and the treatment of the disease can do, so all of my life I’ve had a larger -than-the-average-person fear of cancer.

In October 2016, I discovered a very large lump in my right breast.  I know that reality is, it was there and I didn’t notice, but I check often, and it certainly wasn’t noticeable just a week earlier.  I’d recently fallen while riding my bike, and the handle bar had caught me in the same general area, so I assumed I had some under-the-skin bruising and swelling going on.  When it didn’t go away, I decided to look into. On October 10, 2016, the doctor said he was concerned, and sent me for tests to be run the very next day.

It is never good to be told, it looks like you might have a cancer, but we won’t know until the biopsy.  It is another to be told, at 4:15 pm, “Your radiologist is really worried, it looks like a large tumor, it is in a lymph node, and we need to get you scheduled for surgery now. Go over to the radiologist, get him to give you a disc of his results, and take it to this address, that’s the surgeon who will take it out Monday. He’ll meet with you Friday to discuss it.”

Conflicting Medical Reports and Plans:
I was told by my doctor that the plan was for the surgeon to remove the lump, biopsy the lump, and then decide if they needed to take the whole breast. This would all take place on Monday.

I was told that according to the mammogram and sonogram it was 2 cm.
I was told it wasn’t touching the chest wall.
I was told it wasn’t in the left breast.
I was told there was a swollen lymph, but only one node.

Plan 1
I let my family and my employer know what was going on so everyone could take off Monday.

I started some prayer chains.

My fear of cancer combines with my love of research.  If anything about a cancer diagnosis is good, this was all, actually, good news.  One lymph, 2 cm tumor, today is very, very beatable. It is low on the “cancer rating scales”.

I walked into the surgeon’s office confident it would all be fine.

Shattered Confidence
The surgeon  looked at their reports, and did his own exam.
It is not 2 cm.  It is 2 cm by 4 cm.
It might not be in the left, but they didn’t exam the left well enough to know if it is or isn’t.
It could be attached to the chest wall.
The lymph itself is 2 cm now.

The only thing they all agree on is, it looks like a cancer, and while no one can confirm cancer until they biopsy it, they can confirm it meets all the other criteria. Rough edges, mass not fluid, swollen lymph.

Given the new size report, and the possibility it had spread and they hadn’t picked that up, I was mildly worried. Okay, I was terrified.  So, I asked, “Are you thinking stage 4?” He said, “No, not 4. Possible 3. Definitely higher level 2 at least, but not 4. However, as certain as I am that it is cancer, until we get the biopsy, I cannot tell you if it really is cancer or not.  I can only say it looks enough like cancer that I expect the biopsy will confirm what I already know.”

Plan 2

The surgeon wanted an MRI to confirm it hadn’t moved to the left breast or lung.
Not exactly a calming suggestion, but he did tell me he didn’t expect to find that it had, he just didn’t want to miss something because it was not on the radar.

First Pot Hole in the Road

I learned from him that many insurance companies will not pay for diagnostic MRI’s related to cancer. They will only pay if a physician confirms the diagnosis officially, something they cannot confirm without a biopsy.

We also weren’t sure I could have one. I had shunts put into my eyes to release pressure as part of treatment for an eye disease a few years ago. It comes with, “if anyone starts talking MRI, hand them this card,” warning.

I was sent home with notes that I was definitely having a biopsy on Friday, but it was an Ultra/Sound Guided needle biopsy.  If we can do the MRI they would scheduled it before Friday.

Sink Hole in the Road – Paying for all of it

I have good insurance through my employer, but even good insurance has its pitfalls.  At this point in time, I’ve already spent $100 in co-payments.  They add up fast when you see your own doctor twice, a radiologist once and a surgeon once.

People hear that and think, “pfft, it is just $100.”  However, on my budget, $100 is a lot of money. I’m sure it is for many people.  I had a lot of surgery on my eyes the previous year and was still paying off those.

So I asked about what kind of money I was expected to have up front, and was told, “Oh, just the copay.”  Well, the copay for an MRi is $100, plus 20% of the cost of the MRI.  So when they called to say, yes, I could have the MRI with my eye shunts, I asked, “what is the cost?”

This seems like a simple question. I shop all the time and when I ask the price, I get a number. ONE number.  That is not how the medical profession works, apparently.

I was told, “If your insurance will cover it, you only need your copay, and we bill $3,300. If your insurance doesn’t cover it, we only charge $1,000, but you have to pay $500 up front.”

Five calls back and forth between them and my insurance company and I managed to come up with a figure of $279.00 due on Tuesday afternoon.

What about Friday?

Friday, I have  the biopsy.

I might have a lumpectomy on Friday or a radical on Friday as well. I don’t know.
I won’t even have a “probably” plan until the MRI on Tuesday.
But the procedure there is also $100 plus 20% of whatever.

I have no idea what that might add to up, and no way of finding out, so no way of planning for it.

The doctor has told me, flat out, I will do chemo.  Chemo medication averages anywhere from $1,000 to $6,500 a month.  So, more phone calls to the insurance company.  The news there, for me, is good. I’ve met most of my pharmaceutical deductible, so I’ll have to pay about $38 for the first month, then $10 a month until January. In January, the new insurance year starts, and I’ll be paying $50 a month.  I have a few months to plan for that though.

Conclusions at this point:
We need to advocate for simple, straight forward answers to simple straight forward questions.

And most of all, God’s got this.



Measuring up

BlueberriesIt was between 11 PM and midnight, and the store was almost empty.  Walking past the produce section we passed a small group of people, frowning, looking with disgust at a woman who was frantically gathering blueberries off the floor while trying to stop her daughter from throwing more on the ground.   The little girl, looked to around the age of 7 or 8. She was well dressed, clean and smiling, but she was also not making eye contact with anyone, apparently oblivious to her mother’s frantic attempts to stop her from waving her hands wildly in the air, and gazing off in a way that I had seen often on children with special needs.

As I pondered whether it would be more or less embarrassing for the mother if I stopped to help her pick up the blueberries and offered to pay for them, the whispers of disgust from the women who were watching them grew louder, and they began to shake their heads in disapproval as they leaned in to talk to one another like football players in a huddle, their eyes cutting to the mother and daughter from time to time.

That was when Matthew 7:2 sprang into my mind:

For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.

 I wondered, if they were asked, would they want God to use the rotted, rusted cup of wrath they were using when He judged them?  Would they want him to see a child temporarily out of control and blueberries on the floor? Or would they want him to judge them with the shimmering crystal of a mother’s love. A mother whose love lead her to stay with her special child, despite the difficulties that come with special children?

I wondered, is she a single parent? Is she married, with a spouse who works round the clock to pay for medical bills and therapists so that her precious daughter can have better opportunities in life?  Is she shopping late at night because that is the only time she is free to shop, or because she knows it will be less crowded?  Did she want blueberries today? Or will she feel obligated to buy something she didn’t want to buy, because her daughter knocked it off the shelf.

I wondered what kind of parent i would be if I faced whatever struggles her daily life gave her.  Then I wondered about the women who were judging this poor woman.  People often respond to the suggestion that they be kinder to others with the statement, “everyone has problems,” and I suppose that is somewhat true, but some people definitely have bigger problems than others.  All parents occasionally deal with a child who is misbehaving, but not all parents deal with a child who is locked in their own universe, incapable of even knowing that what they are doing is annoying others.  All parents have to shop for food at some time or another, but not all of them are alone in the world, trying to carry the burden of day to day parenting responsibilities alone.

This was on my heart when a friend of mine posted a video on facebook that showed a child who was clearly out of control on a bus.  I don’t know the age of the child in the video, but I’d guess between 3 and 5.  He was loud. He was rude. He was smart mouthing the woman he was with.  He was kicking and grabbing and hitting at her.  The thread exploded with comments about lack of discipline. I am not a big supporter of spanking, but even i thought that was what the boy needed.

The venom of those in the thread toward the woman shocked me though.  Everyone assumed she was responsible for the boy’s actions.  Everyone assumed she had not tried to teach him better.  I suggested that might not be the case.  Perhaps she was a foster parent, dealing with behavior taught to the child by someone else, and forbidden by law to spank a child. I pointed out that on that bus, there were few ways the mother could discipline the child, short of a spanking.  There were no toys to take away, no room to send him to, no “time out corner.”

I have no idea if the child was out of control because that woman never taught him to respect elders or because she married a father whose first wife had not taught the child respect, or she was fostering a child removed from a neglectful or abusive situation. I don’t know if she was abused as a child, and therefore swore never to raise a hand against a child.  I don’t know.   I just know that judging her was not helping her.  Judging her was not going to teach the boy to behave. Judging her was not going to change her actions on the bus that day.  I also know that my savior said, “judge not.”  I don’t remember a clause that said, “Unless it really bothers you,” or “unless you or someone you know could do it better.”

Maybe this woman on the bus deserves a medal for loving a child who appears to be difficult to love.  Maybe this woman on the bus deserves a hug and a handshake for not losing control and reacting in rage.  Maybe this woman on the bus, who everyone assumes is a bad parent, is really a remarkable parent whose love is going to change a child’s life.

Maybe we should all stop pouring from the cup of wrath, and start using the crystal measures of love and mercy.  A prayer would have helped either of these women.   A hug or a kind word might have helped them.
Whispers and public condemnation will not help them.

Prayer Myths

This October will mark the 49th annivesary of when I became a Christian.  In the years that have passed since I accepted Christ’s offer of grace I’ve been through a lot of ups and downs, and I’ve prayed my way through all of them. Most of the time, God tells me yes.  Sometimes He tells me no.  Always, eventually, He has allowed me to understand and see why He told me no, but sometimes I have to wait a few years. Because I know prayer works, because I know God is a loving heavenly father, I pray for big things like a miraculous healing from cancer, and I pray for little things like lost car keys.

Myth 1 – God doesn’t hear prayers if there is sin in your life.

This is the biggest myth about prayer, and probably also the most repeated myth.  If you do a web search for “when God says no,” you will often find, “Sin in your life,” on that list of reasons why God said no.  The writer will then make some claim that God doesn’t hear the prayers of sinners.  It is not only wrong, it is totally, and completely wrong, and more importantly, it directly contradicts God’s word. 

The bible very matter of factly  states, in Romans 3:23, “For all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.”  If God did not hear the prayer of sinners, God would not hear the prayer we pray for forgiveness of sins. He would not hear the prayers we pray accepting the grace he offers. He would not hear the prayers of anyone, because all of us sin. In John 9:2-3, you find the story of the blind man who who prompted the disciples to ask “who sinned, this man or his parents,” and you read that Christ replied, “It was not that this man sinned; or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him.” Most people stop there, but the real beauty of this chapter is further down. Look at verses 31-34.   In verse 31 the formerly blind man repeats the myth taught by ancient Jews, “We know that God does not listen to sinners, but if anyone is a worshipper of God and his will, God listens to him.”  In verses 32-33 the blind man responds with, “Never since the world began has it been heard that anyone opened the eyes of a man born blind.  If this man were not from God, he could do nothing.”  In verse 34 the Pharisees tell him, “You were born in utter sin, and you would teach us?”  They were right, the man was born in “utter sin”.  We all were.  Never in the story do you hear that the man did not sin. Never do you hear Christ tell him, “repent and I’ll cure you.”  Never do you hear or see anything other than the grace of God in action.  That is what prayer is, an extension of the grace of God.

One reason this myth is so often repeated is because of non-believers.  There is a bit of a catch-22 in there.  If you don’t believe that Christ is Christ, how will you be able to pray a mountain-moving prayer with the required faith.   Faith, lack of faith and sin are three different things.  Sin does not block prayer.  Lack of faith blocks prayer.

Myth 2:  Don’t pray for the impossible.

 I think many people fall into the trap of myth 2 without even knowing they have fallen into a trap.  Either they simply don’t pray the prayer because they consider the thing impossible, or when they pray it, they pray it without the mountain-moving faith that is required for prayer.   They want to believe that “all things are possible for God,” but there is a that little nagging doubt.   As an example, consider ththe following scenario.  A friend asks you to pray for a healing from a deadly cancer.  You’ve known many people who prayed for cancer cures and received a no, but you don’t want to let your friend down, so you say ‘yes, I’ll pray,” but your prayer in your heart is more a, “Dear Jesus, I know you’re probably going to say no to this, but Jim really needs a healing miracle right now.  So could you please heal Jim, or help Jim accept that you won’t.”  You’ve already decided that healing Jim is impossible. You’re ripped the rug of faith out from under your own feet.

God still does the  impossible.   God has never made a huge show of doing miracles all the time, but God has done them since he created the heavens and the earth, and despite what people might like you to believe, he hasn’t totally stopped doing them.  So don’t stop asking for them.

I was a new bride when they told me that I had a terrible cancer that would eat away my face, and that was moving toward my eyes and brain.  They (several different doctors and surgeons) said there was no hope for a cure, but they could possibly give me 5 years if I let them do surgery to remove most of the tumor.  I wasn’t even going to seek treatment, but I prayed, and friends prayed, and my husband asked me to do the surgery, and his grandparents asked me to do the surgery, so I did the surgery.  At 7 am the surgeon ran some pre-surgical tests and confirmed there was a nasty tumor with tendrils that had eaten through bone in my face.  It was not a cyst. It had grown since the initial discovery.  Everything that had lead to the terrible prognosis by every doctor who had seen me confirmed the terrible prognosis.  When I woke up from what should have been a surgery that removed my jaw, part of my eye, my nose and part of my frontal lobe, I was whole, except for some holes in the bones of my face.  The surgeon asked me if I believed in God, and when I said i did, he said, “That’s good, because he apparently believes in you.”  The doctor said when they opened up my face, just 30 minutes after having looked at the tumor, it was gone, but the evidence of its existance earlier was still there.  He said it looked like another surgeon had beaten him to it.  There was a hole in my bone, there were tendrils in my bones, there was no tumor.  He, and the entire board of directors of the surgical unit of that hosptial called it a miracle.  I do too.  Someone who prayed for me had prayed with mountain-moving faith. 

So, why do so many cancer patients still get a no?  They can’t ALL have weak prayers. I think there are many possible reasons.  When my mother had cancer, I prayed, firmly, believingly, that she be cured.  Then one day she came to me and said, “Please stop praying that. I am really tired of this world.  Not just the illness, but a world with bills, and troubles, and worries. I want to rest with my parents and brother. I want to go home.”  I think that God heard my prayers, and told me no because he loved my mother enough to tell me no.  She had earned a right to the rest in his arms that I couldn’t understand.  Also, there were things in my life that happened, as a direct result of being orphaned just as I was setting out as a young adult, that would surely have been changed if I had stayed on the path of “a mother’s daughter.”  Things that blessed my life.  Things like meeting my husband who fathered my children.  God has farsight.  We have almost no sight.God has also has a paternal wisdom that the children of god don’t have.  Just as your human child thinks the most terrible, cruel, understanding thing in the world that you can do is tell them no to that one thing they are pleading for, while you know it is, in fact, one of the greatest displays of love you’ve ever made, God does the same. 

Some of you are thining, but we’re talking about DEATH!  How can a loving God ever say no to preventing death?  Death is a transition, and for a Christian, it is a transition forward.  Think of a fetus for a moment.  As a fetus, there is darkness, there are terrible limits, but the womb is all the fetus knows.  For a baby to be born, for a human to grow, the “fetus stage” has to end.  All that the fetus has known is left behind.  Death for a Christian is leaving behind the limits of this world to transition to a better existence. 

You cannot “rush” a fetus’ through that transition.  You cannot rush a christian either.  Taking your own life is not the answer, and it is not wrong to do what you can do to continue to grow in this life.  See your doctors, take care of your health.  When the time comes though, and God says, “You have to move forward now, there is nothing left for you here,” it is not a terrible thing for the one who is moving on.  It is only a terrible thing for those of us who cannot move on with them, yet.  So if God says no to a prayer for a miracle healing, don’t think your prayer was unheard, or that God couldn’t do the impossible.  Know that God wanted better than a world of strive, bills and sickness for the person you love.

Myth 3: You shouldn’t pray for material things or small things.

Why not? 

I once asked a friend to pray about a car that was giving me mechanical trouble when I needed the car and didn’t have money for major repairs.  The friend replied, “Oh, I would never pray for something like that!  I don’t bother god with trivial things.” 

My first reaction was, honestly, anger.  It wasn’t a trivial thing to me.  My second reaction was, why wouldn’t you ask god for everything you want, large or small?   Human parents don’t tell their children, “Don’t ask me for anything unless it is a life or death situation.”  Why do you think God would be less loving, less spoiling, less indulging to his children?  He may say no, just a human parent might say no.  I suspect his reasons for a no will be simliar to a human parents reasons for saying no.  If you pray for wealth and don’t get it maybe it is because God know you will be better off in life if you develop a work ethic.  If you pray that a potential romantic connection will call, and they don’t, maybe God saw that the potential romantic partner was a total loser, and that you were just too infactuated with puppy-love to see the truth.  That doesn’t mean you can’t ask.

One of the most spirit lifting healing moments of my life was when I asked God to help me find my car-keys.  Yes, my lost car keys. It had been a horrible, horrible year.  I was a single parent barely surviving from paycheck to paycheck with two children to care for, and the boss I’d worked well with for years had retired. His replacement was a woman who hated me, and who made no secret of the fact that she was looking for a reason to fire me, and I couldn’t find my car keys.  If I was late for work, she had her reason.  I was terrified, I was in tears. I was wondering all those things you wonder about in moments of darkness. Had I made God angry? Was all of this a punishment? A test? I tore the house apart, I dumped my purse, I cleared off the coffee table. No keys. Then I prayed, and I turned around and there they were. Right on the coffee table I’d just cleared off. Right where I’d looks at least a dozen times.  I just broke down and sobbed. Those car keys were proof he was still istening.  Those car keys were a “hug” from God. That little, simple answer to a “silly” prayer gave me the spiritual strength to get through all of it, and to keep going until I came out of that tunnel.  To me, that “miracle” discovery of the keys was bigger than the medical miracle I had received years before. 

Myth 4:  If someone asks you to pray for something you don’t agree with y ou should tell them no.

God doesn’t need you to screen his calls.

When a person asks you to pray for them or with them, don’t play the role of God by refusing to talk to God about it.  Don’t lecture them on how wrong you think their prayer request is.  Don’t remind them of all the reasons God might say no.  Juse love the person who made the request, take their hand and say, “You lead,”  because, usually, what they really need is someone who loves them enough to do that. 

I have been told no to requests for prayer for a lot more things that God said yes to, than to things God said no to.  Each time someone refused to pray for something because they thought it was too big for God to handle, or to little for God to bother with, or just “not the right thing to ask for,” it was a slap in the face that left me feeling more alone than you can imagine, and it distanced me from them. There were a few who said, “I honestly think you are wrong to ask this, but we can ask God and let God,” and I loved them for that.  Ask with them, be there for them, and let God be God. He doesn’t need you to edit his correspondence for him.

Myth 5:  You didn’t have enough faith when you asked.

 Sometimes that is true, but in your heart, you know that when it happens.  

Sometimes it is not though.  A  lot of people with very real mountain moving faith are told no to requests they make to God, and being reminded of this myth leaves them feeling guilty, and a bit angry at God.

It is no wonder. If you go to someone you love, get on your knees, positive they’ll help you through anything, positive you know the right answer, positive they’ll agree with you, and you beg them to help you do it your way and they say no, you’re shocked. You’re a bit angry that they said no, and you’re really angry if someone says, “Oh, you just didn’t ask the right way,” or “you could have talked him into it if you had really tried.”So don’t do that to your fellow Christians. 

A simple, honest, “I don’t understand why God said no, but I love you, and he loves you, and eventually we’ll understand why,” is so much nicer and more accurate than, “this is your fault, you didn’t have enough faith when you prayed.”

The bottom line is, ask God.  Try to accept his answer. If you have a lot of trouble accepting his answer, ask him to please help you understand why he gave the answer he gave.God loves you.  He will respond to you in love. Someitmes that is yes, sometimes that is no, sometimes that is, “You can’t possibly understand right now, but when you’re older, you will see I was right.’ 

Love Him. Trust Him. Love him enough to be unafraid of asking him.  Trust him enough to know that if he says know, he said no out of love.  Trust him enough to ask for miracles, because he can do them. Trust him enough to ask for silly things because he loves you.  Trust him enough to keep loving him, even if you don’t like the answer he gives.

Blessings That Keep On Giving – Happy Birthday Josiah – Surviving Hyperemesis Gravidarum with God’s Help

This busy little chef is my grandson. 
Today is his third birthday.
About 3 1/2 years ago I was afraid I would lose a daughter instead of gaining a grandson.
God is good.

My daughter and my son-in-law had no reason in the world to think pregnancy would be difficult for Kathleen.  Neither of their families had a long history of difficult pregnancies.  When she thought she was prengant she went in for a test and was told it might be positive, but the results weren’t really clear.  So they did a sonogram, at which point they told her she had a “blighted ovum”.  She called me in tears.  Her heart (God’s whisper) told her this was not a “blighted ovum,” and that it was a child. The nursing team tried to convince her to have a D&C.  She refused, and ended up scheduling another appointment.

The next visit they told her that they found a yoke sack but no fetal pole. Again, they pushed for a D&C. Again she said no.  She and I were both convinced she was just not as far along as they thought she was.  The third visit they still couldn’t see a fetal pole. Again, she refused a D&C.

About this time she began throwing up, but calling it morning sickeness would be a tremendous understatement of fact.  There was no relief.  She and my wonderful son-in-law would call her (now former) OB/GYN’s office and the nurses would tell her that she was experiencing a psychosymatic pregnancy and that she was about to “miscarry” the “empty sack.”  They never saw her, never encouraged my son-in-law to bring her into the doctor. 

My son-in-law had to attend a business trip in San Antonio, and often takes Kat with him, but this time it was not just wanting to be with her that caused her to join him.  She was so sick now that they were afraid to leave her home alone, but the nurses kept refusing to set up appointments for her, convinced she was not pregnant.

She was in San Antonio when she collapsed.  Travis got back from his conference meeting to find her blacked out in their hotel room.  At the emergency room in San Antonio the doctors confirmed that she was indeed pregnant – 8 weeks along in fact.  They also told her that her ketone levels were extremely high. They told Travis that it was a good thing he got home when he did or Kathleen might have died.  She was dehydrated, she was starving to death from being unable to keep any food down, and she was suffering from a rare life threatening pregnancy related illness called “hyperemesis gravidarum” or HG.

The minute they got home they began trying to find another doctor.  They were told, by most, that they didn’t want to take on a pregnancy that was already determined to be high risk.  Some said they didn’t want to take business from other doctors.  My son-in-law’s mother was able to find an amazing doctor who was not only willing to take on the case, but seemed eager to make sure my daughter and my grandson survived.

This wonderful doctor who I believe was sent by God helped develop a diet for her, gave her medications that would help her keep fluid and food down, and monitored her carefully.  That didn’t end the throwing up, but it ended most of the “life-threatening” part of it.

At 19 weeks Kat and Travis went in to find out the gender of their baby, and what was meant to be a wonderful, happy doctor visit offered them more bad news.   The baby was SGA, or small for his gestational age.  They warned Kat and Travis that the baby was at higher risk for asphyxia, hypoglycemia, polycthemia and neurological issues.  Once more they were robbed of the opportunity to “enjoy” being prespective parents. 

A specialist was called in and series of multiple doctor visits per week began.  A trip to the OB/GYN, a trip to the specialist, measuring the baby’s growth.  My son-in-law and I took turns carrying her to the appointments, his parents helped out with more than I can possibly describe here. Cooking, cleaning, packing and moving them to a new place when money issues rose up.

By week 25 they changed the diagnosis from SGA to intrauterine growth restriction or IUGR . Since poor nutrition and kidney disease are often considered factors in this issue, and since she doesn’t do the other things that sometimes lead to this (drink, do drugs, smoke), I have no doubt that the HG caused this.  She was warned this could lead to complications at birth.  We were told they might need to take the baby a little early to avoid it going through the stress of natural birth, and that there woulld probably be weeks in a neo-natal intensive care unit. 

By now they’d gone from a plan of both of them working until the baby was born, with normal pregnancy expenses, to one working and massive medical bills that looked to become even more massive. God, however, was with them all of the way.  My coworkers knew what was going on, and tried to be as supportive as possible.  One day I walked into work and found an envelope with 177 dollars in it, addressed to me, but with no clue who gave it to me. (To this day they haven’t admitted it).  I swung by Kat’s house to tell her of my blessing and found her in tears.  She had gotten a bill she couldn’t possibly afford to pay, and they wanted money by the next day.  I asked her the amount.  It was exactly 174 dollars.  I handed her the $177 and said, “God meant this for you.  $174 for that bill, and $3 to remind us all He is with you.”   A little later, as I was trying to find the angel to say thank you, I asked a coworker who was less informed about the issues with Kat’s health if he knew who left the money. he said no, but a few hours later showed up in my office wanting to know why people felt I needed help for medical bills. I explained what was going on. He returned and asked me what the hospital needed before delivery.  I told him it was too much for anyone to consider helping with, but he insisted on knowing the amount.  Later he showed up with a check telling me to tell the kids they didn’t have to worry about paying it back.  They used that to make the down payments, and when the insurance paid off, returning things they had “over paid”, they paid him back.

At last, on March 2, 2009, they scheduled a c-section.  There were still questions of whether the baby’s lungs were strong enough, but it looked like it had to be done.  
A perfect, beautiful baby boy was born that day.  He spent no time in NICU. He was small. Very small, but healthy.


And so was my daughter.

Kathleen and Josiah at the St. Anthony Hotel in San Antonio, Texas in 2012.





Men of God who merged Christianity and politics the right way

Yesterday I attended the funeral service of a great man of God.  He was a Christian who was known for walking the walk, helping the helpless, loving God, loving his wife and his children, and doing his best to be the man that God would want a man to be.  It just so happens that he chose to become a police officer, then a prosecuting attorney for the District Attorney’s office, and then he became a judge of the county court.  What struck me though is that he was not remembered for his brilliant legal mind, even by other members of the judicidal system.  He was remembered for his love of Christ, and for his efforts to live a life of love.

The church was not just packed with people who wanted to say farewell to this wonderful man. It literally overflowed into a nearby chapel.  It wasn’t my church, but as I looked around the room I could pick out a lot of men and women that were known to be people who also walked the walk.  Many of them also members of the judicial or local political community.  What struck me was that these men and women who are loved by so many people are not famous for standing up and using the name of Christ to further their own political careers or their business ventures.  They were, rather, famous for using their business ventures and careers to do what they believed God would have wanted, one on one, person by person, case by case. 

This world needs many more like them.


Politics and Christianity

I have a shameful confession to make. I used to be very heavily involved in politics.  I mean “election judge, precinct chairman, delegate to state, member of the executive board, secretary of the county convention, paid campaign worker,” kind of involvement.  I mean the, “elected officials called me at work and at home for input,” kind of involvement.

I’ve learned better and repented.

I learned a lot about both politics and Christ in the process, most of all I learned that the two don’t mix. 

Never take someone else’s negative words at face value – go to the source:
When I first got active in politics in my city, there was man running for Congress who seemed like a great guy, but at a political meeting we  were all told by a woman that everyone trusted dearly that the man was ripping down his opponents signs, busting out windows and spreading lies about people.  Person after person told me similar stories, and I was dumb enough to assume that if everyone said it, it must be true.

Despite the gossip. The man won the party nomination, and after he won the party asked me to work his campaign against the other party.  I refused. He could have just ignored me.  I was only one person, and then just a new person.  Instead he came to me and asked me why I refused to support him.  He was humble and polite and seemed to sincerely want to know what he had done to make me dislike him.  I gave him an honest answer, and he looked absolutely shocked and said, “I had no idea that was going on.  I know you can’t believe that, but I swear, if I had known I would have fired whoever it was and paid for any damages.  Please find out where and when this happened so I can act on it.”

So I tried.  I really tried.  No one seemed to remember whose sign or whose house or what yard or what sign.  Everyone had heard it from someone “reliable” who had heard it from someone “reliable,” but none of the people spreading it had any idea where the original source of it was.

I agreed to work with the man.  After all, if a man is as big a jerk as the rumors said, he couldn’t hide it forever. 

He turned out to be one of the finest human beings and Congressmen I’ve ever known. 

Some  Christians think “thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor” doesn’t apply to politics:
When the local head of the Christian Coalition demanded that a man sign off on a specific platform before the coalition would support the man, the candidate and the coalition official met in my office and discussed why the candidate was hesitant to sign it, but the man did sign it.  A few days later an ad ran for the man’s opponent, paid for by the supppoters of the Coalition, saying the man had not signed it. Rumors were all over the county convention floor that the man had refused to sign it.   They said that they heard this from the head of the Coalition.

So I went to the head of the Christian Coalition and said, “You know, the 10 commandments? That one about not bearing false witness doesn’t have an “except for politics,” clause in it.  The man said, “Well, he might have signed it, but he isn’t a strong supporter of, ” (and mentioned the plank the man was hesitant on).  I said, “A lie is a lie. He signed off on it, saying he didn’t is a lie. If you’re going to throw rocks, you should at least be less obvious about breaking the numbered commandments.”

He hung his head in shame. 

You don’t need to be Christian to be part of the Christian Coaliton
My city is very divided politically.  We have “liberal Democrats” and “moderate Democrats”.  We have “Conservative Republicans” and “moderate Republicans.” In my area, if you didn’t stand up for the conservative element of the Republican party you were labeled “non-Christian,” and if you were active in that branch of the political system you were automatically assumed to be “a good Christian.”

So imagine my surprise when the woman who was famous in town for being able to motivate the Christians into action told me that she didn’t think it mattered if a person prayed to Christ or to Buddah or to Allah. 

Don’t confuse faith in Christ with opinions on issues
Remember the guy above who signed off on the platform, and they said he didn’t? He is a lay minister who is very active in the Church of Christ. Ask him for his testimony and he’ll talk for hours and hours about how he came to Christ, why he loves Christ and how he wants to help others find Christ.  He does a lot of charity work in the name of Christ. His reason for not wanting to sign off on the platform was because he felt the issue in question was one that would only be answered individually, and that the churches, not politicians, should address it.  This is the man the Christian coalition didn’t like.

One of the people running against him had the full support of the local Christian Coalition element of the party, but said something that indicated to me he couldn’t be a Christian.  Namely holding a status of honor with a non-christian faith. So, after a meeting I asked them how that worked, and they responded that they were not Christian, and then told me that their personal believe didn’t matter as long as they were willing to support Christian issues. 

How can a non-Christian know what a Christian issue is? How can a person who doesn’t even pretend to pray, know what God would want or make godly decisions? Or guide a group (community) in a Christian manner?  Would I rather have a sinful, but prayerful David as my leader? Or a worshipper of Baal, who was a pretty nice guy and agreed with me that stealing a man’s wife is bad? I’ll take King David.

Just because a man proclaims a cause doesn’t mean he believes in the cause
A very influential party member at not just the local level, but also at the state level, was adored by the pro-life groups.  On a door to door walk one day the man’s daughter told me that she found politics hilarious because her Dad didn’t really believe abortion was wrong.  I asked her to explain. She said, “I had one, and I had it because my Dad insisted I have it.”  She then went on to explain that she’d gotten pregnant as a teenager, her father didn’t want his family name stained, and he’d insisted she get rid of the baby. She had wanted to have it and keep it.  I said he must have changed his mind after that. She laughed and said absolutely not.

So, I asked someone close to the man about it, and he said, “That’s right. He isn’t really pro-life, and he is an atheist.”

I was flabbergasted, and I said, “But the Christian coalition and the conservatives all support him!”

His friend said, “He’s a great politician, and the party matters to him more than the issues. He figures issues will come and go.  So he doesn’t pick candidates who support his issue. He finds out what the issues are, and tells his candidate how to win over the people.”

Which, needless to say, didn’t improve my trust in the candidates he supported.

Everytime we brag that we are a Christian, and we spread a false rumor or attack someone who doesn’t deserve it, we anger Christ.
So when you get that email that enrages you, don’t forward it! Assume it is wrong until verified, and fact check it. If you can’t find substantial proof that it is accurate, don’t share it!

You see, Christ cares about a person’s soul, and when you spread false rumors, while proclaiming Christ, you run the risk of causing a heart to harden.
So just stop it.

Valuable lessons I learned from it all
If you hear a rumor, demand specifics that can be fact checked, don’t share them or spread them.  Spreading a rumor you don’t know to be true is bearing false witness and it is a sin.

If you want to know what a person feels about Christ or an issue, ask them.

Make sure your leaders really believe what they claim to believe. 

The more negative the comment, the more likely it is a flat out lie.

A man who is afraid to pray, is a man who won’t be listening to God.

Doing the dos of Christ matters as much as not doing the don’ts, maybe more.

Doing the dos of Christ matters as much as not doing the don’ts.  Maybe more.” 

The first time I heard those words they were spoken by Dr. Ralph Smith, who at the time was pastor of Hyde Park Baptist Church in Austin, Texas.  It was the mid 1970’s and Dr. Smith was teaching on the book of James.  Specifically the second chapter of James which says, in verses 8 through 10, the following.  “If ye fulfil the royal law according to the scripture, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself, ye do well.  But if ye have respect to persons, ye commit sin, and are convinced of the law as transgressors.  For whosoever shall keep the whole law, and yet offend in one point, he is guilty of sin.”

Woah! That is HEAVY stuff.  Not loving your neighbor is as bad as adultry or murder or theft? That can’t be right!

Or can it?  Sin is disobedience to the known will of God, and no matter how hard we try to ignore it, forget it or twist it, Christ made God’s will on certain things very clear. He wants us to treat each other with love and with mercy, and He wants us to do it unconditionally. 

That means we can’t stop and say, “Well, they need to try to help theirself first,” or “they need to repent from sin first.”  Our most important job as a Christian is not to stop them from sinning.  It is to love  God, and then to love others like Christ loves us. Thankfully, for all of us, Christ loves us with mercy, forgiveness and understanding.  He died for us, when we were so mired in sin we didn’t even know it was sinful.  He forgives us, even though we keep making the same mistakes over and over.  THAT is how He wants us to treat each other and how He wants us to treat non-believers.

How important is it to Christ?  Well, when the disciples asked Christ, “Master, which is the great commandment in the law?” Jesus answered, “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind.  This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.”   (That’s where James got the idea). Matthew, Mark, and Luke all record this.  You find reference to it in other books of the New Testament, such as James.  The greatest two commandments, according to God Himself, are to love God and love others!

That isn’t the strongest or most clear statement from Christ on the matter though.  In Mattew 25 starting at verse  31 Christ tells us that when Christ returns in all his glory, with his angels, he will sit on his throne in glory with all the nations gathered around him, and he will separate his sheep from the goats, with the sheep on the right and the goats on the left.  
Matthew 25

34 Then shall the King say unto them on his right hand, Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. 35 For I was an hungred, and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in:36 Naked, and ye clothed me: I was sick, and ye visited me: I was in prison, and ye came unto me.”
37 Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungred, and fed thee? or thirsty, and gave thee drink? 38When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in? or naked, and clothed thee?
39 Or when saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came unto thee?
40 And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.

Notice what is not in there? What is not in there is, “You protested against that funeral for that sinner!” What is not in there is, “You told that guy begging for help on the corner to get a job and you cut aide to single parents so they didn’t waste the money.”

I have to be honest now and admit that those verses weren’t the real attention grabber to me.   It was the next set of verses in the same sermon (taught by Christ Himself) that grabbed my attention. 

Vs 41
“Then shall he say also unto them on the left hand, “Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels.”

Christ, who was so full of love and mercy that he died for us, sending people to eternal punishment is a real attention grabber for me.  What in the world could anger Christ so much that he would say it deserved the same punishment as Satan deserved?   Ignoring the second commandment, to love others.  Ignoring the dos of Christianity.

44 Then shall they also answer him, saying, “Lord, when saw we thee an hungred, or a thirst, or a stranger, or naked, or sick, or in prison, and did not minster unto thee?
45 Then shall he answer them, saying, “Verily I saw unto you, Inasmuch as ye did it not to one of the least of these, ye did it not to me”. 46 And these shall go away into everlasting punishment: but the righteous into life eternal.

We Christians don’t teach that much anymore.  We focus on trying to beat those splinters out of other people’s eyes.  We use the excuse that Christians are saved by faith, not works.  That is true.  The bible says it very plainly. “Ye are saved by faith, not of works, lest any man should boast.”  Sadly, we boast anyway. We boast that we aren’t guilty of the sin someone else is guilty of.  We boast we go to church on a regular basis. We boast we know the books of the bible in order. 

However, the fact that we are saved by faith does not mean we should ignore the dos of Christ.  Remember that verse back in James? The one that said if you break any of the law you’re just as guilty as someone who broke all of the law? The verse that reminds you that all the law hinges on love?

We can never be “good enough” to earn forgiveness for our sin, but that doesn’t mean good works don’t matter.  They matter a great deal to Christ.  In this human world if someone tells you that they love you and respect you, but they never consider your feelings, often hurt you, and never match their actions to their words, you begin to understand that their words are empty lies.  Christ is smart enough to know the difference between truly loving him, and in just saying you love him. He warned us to watch out for people who pretend to be followers of Christ, but in fact are there to destroy.

Matthew 7:15 .
Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves
(Want to see a false prophet? Turn on the news to the man shouting messages of hate to a mother mourning her son’s death.  Open the paper to the guy who killed the staff of an abortion clinic and claimed he did it to serve God). 

Matthew 7:21
Not every one that saith unto me, “Lord, Lord,” shall enter into the kingdom of heaven; but he that doeth the will of my father which is in heaven.
(Love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. Love thy neighbor as thyself. Judge not, lest ye be judged. Heal the sick. Visit the prisoners. Take in the strangers. Give drink to the thirsty. Let him who is without sin cast the first stone).

I love the story of the adulterous woman brought to Christ, especially when taken in context of James 2.  If all the law hinges on love, and all of us have failed to love, none of us are in a position to be tossing stones.  It behooves us to remember that.

Matthew 7:22-23
Many will say to me in that day, “Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in thy name? And in thy name have cast out devils? And in thy name done many wonderful works?” And then will I profess unto them, “I never knew you: depart from me, ye that work iniquity”.

It isn’t enough to do something in His name.  You have to know Him. You have to love Him, and if you love Him, you will keep his commandments.

John 14:15
If ye love me, keep my commandments.

John 14:21
He that hath my commandments, and keepeth them, he it is that loveth me: and he that loveth me shall be loved by my father, and I will love him, and will manifest myself to him.

John 14:23
Jesus answered and said unto him, If a man love me, he will keep my words: and my father will love him, and we will come unto him, and make our abode with him.

And if you love him – and keep his commandments – you will love others, not just with words, but with deeds. You’ll feed the hungry, give water to the thirsty, clothe the naked, visit the lonely.  You’ll act with love, and not just talk about it.

John 16:27
For the Father himself loved me, so have I loved you, continue ye in my love.

Show a little love for Christ today by spreading a little unconditional love here on earth.  Or, as Colbert said, admit you “just don’t want to”.

Flowers from heaven

In the chubby little fist of a toddler

Smiles From God

 a weed becomes a beautiful flower from the gardens of heaven.

My grandmother said she loved daisies because “they are smiles from God.”  In Central Texas, we knew that fields of bluebonnets, like the one used on my banner page, or fields of indian blankets were things of beauty.  In west Texas, people who have never seen how beautiful such a field can be just think of these lovely flowers as weeds in the garden.


It occurred to me that a lot of life is that way. God gives us wonderful moments of sheer beauty, and the world tries to convince us that they aren’t beautiful.   This is because the world is looking through cracked and broken lenses.  Take off the bitter negativity of the world and take a walk with God today. I promise you, you’ll find beauty that has been there all along.


Jesus Loves the Little Children and Those Little Children Have Big Ears

Like many children, I grew up singing, “Jesus Loves Me,” and “Jesus Loves the Little Children.” My parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles all taught me that Christ loves everyone, and that He loves sinners so much that He died for us. They did this with actions far more than with words. Love was the rule in my family. It was not unusual for my parents or for my grandparents to take in strangers, offer them food, give them something out of their closets. If someone was different or a misfit in this world I was taught to love them more because they needed it more. I was taught this was what Christ would want from us all.

My mother was a registered nurse, and a angelic hero in my eyes. My father was a good man with many friends, a generous and loving heart, and a problem with alcohol that he fought regularly. He was my knight in shining armor, and I was far too young to understand the issues of alcoholism. I knew Daddy acted silly when he drank too much and that it made mother sad, but I also knew Daddy loved Jesus because Daddy talked about Christ with that same special glow and love that he had when he talked about anyone he really loved. I knew he taught a special Sunday School class sometimes, I didn’t know it was actually a class for alcoholics.

I was five when we began attending a large church located halfway between our home and my grandparents’ home. At first I loved it. I would sing and skip on the walk to church, and when church was over I couldn’t wait to get to tell my grandmother the bible stories I had learned, and sing the little songs we had learned with her. So when we were told our children’s group would sing on the televised noon service I was excited!

The morning of the televised service they marched us into the sanctuary and lined us up, and I was put on the front row. A few minutes later another teacher moved me to the back. The first moved me forward again. The second moved me back. This went on until the front-row advocate demanded the back-row advocate explain. That is when these two women forgot that children have ears.

In front of me, and a choir-loft full of children, the back-row advocate said that my dress looked tacky and homemade. Front- row advocate said she thought it was cute. Back-row advocate hissed, “It’s obviously homemade,” as if that was a terrible thing, then added, “You know, her father is a drunk. He teaches that class for drunks.” The second gasped, and the gossip fest began.

I don’t know how long I listened, nor do I know if they ever noticed I had disappeared. I remember the pain more than anything. The horror of finding out that these people who were supposed to love everyone didn’t love my Daddy. I snuck out a back door of the choir loft and hid and cried. To this day I wonder if they ever noticed I was gone. Did they look for me?

After the sorrow came rage. How dare they talk about Daddy!? How dare they not like the dress my grandmother made?! People paid her to sew! How dare they talk about mother like something was wrong with her because she worked?! She was a nurse?!

Something inside of me broke that day. Fury consumed me for days and weeks afterwards. At first my anger was only directed at those two women, but it quickly spread to everyone who had ever spoken to me about God’s love, including my family. I thought I was surrounded by liars. I kept the anger to myself, nurturing it, letting it grow. I understood that telling them what I’d learned would somehow hurt the people I loved, so I began to live a life of deception.

On Sundays I would pretend to be excited, and I would run ahead of my family into the church, pretending to go to my class, and instead hiding, then slipping out a door to the playground behind the church. I would spend the next hour swinging. If an adult came by I would hide. My parents thought I was in class. My teachers thought I was either absent or with my family. When the Sunday School let out I would slip back into the building and meet my family, pretending I’d spent my time in class. After church my grandmother always asked my sister and I what we’d learned at church that day. I would repeat the story of Zacchaeus, which I’d always loved, and sing her the little song that went with it. I did this so often that she suggested my mother and father talk to the pastor about the fact that my teacher was giving the same lesson every Sunday.

If it had been left up to man I would still be angry at God and Christians, and I would not know my savior. I have no doubt in my mind about that fact. God, however, doesn’t leave the important things like a person’s soul in the hands of mere men.

The swing was located right outside the window of the senior pastor’s study. As Dr. Prince would go in to read over his sermon notes and pray he would glance out that window. It had to have been God’s hand that made him put aside his sermon notes and come outside, personally that day, to ask the little girl in the swing if she wanted to come inside the church. He could have sent someone else. He could have just ignored me. He did neither. He, like any senior pastor of a large church, had a dozen things to do before the service, but he set them aside and came outside and asked me if I lived around the neighborhood, and if I wanted to come inside and be with other children, and learn about Jesus.

I let him have it with all the pent up rage of a betrayed child. I told him that all that stuff about Jesus and love was a lie. I told him that everyone said Jesus loved everyone and that people who loved Jesus were supposed to love everyone, but they didn’t love my Daddy and if they didn’t love my Daddy they were just stupid and liars. I told him all the cruel things I’d heard them say about Mother and Daddy and my dress. I told him all the wonderful things I loved about my family. How Daddy gave that man Daddy’s favorite shirt and introduced him to a friend to get him a job, how Daddy told me that God loves everyone, and how Mother helped the stranger who was bleeding after his car crashed. I told him that all the stuff people said and sang about love was a lie and that I wasn’t stupid and that I didn’t want to play that game.

When I was done this pastor with a PhD who lead a large Southern Baptist Church knelt, in his fine suit, in the dirt of the playground and sobbed. Then Dr. Prince hugged me, and with tears on his face he told me that my mother and my grandparents and my father had not lied to me. That God is real. That Jesus DOES love all of us. Especially my Daddy.

Dr. Prince said that people, even very good people, make mistakes, and they can be very mean and very hurtful because they want to be like Jesus, but they aren’t. He told me that Jesus loved people like my Daddy so much that Jesus came to earth just for people like Daddy. He told me that Jesus would be proud of how Daddy gave the man clothes and how Mama saved the man’s life.

Then he took my hand, and asked me to let him introduce me to other people who really knew that Jesus loves everyone. He led me to the church and Mrs. Johnson. She would, in a few years, become my third grade public school teacher. That year, he called her to the door of a Sunday School class that was designed for children older than I was and asked her to let me join her class. Mrs. Johnson looked at me and smiled, and then smiled at him and said, “I think she is a little young for my class.” I can still see the look he gave her as he said, “She needs this room.” It was the look that children see a thousand times as adults speak that secret language of the eyes. He was right. I needed her room. Mrs. Johnson is still alive in my memory as an example of how Christ would like us all to be.

The months rolled by, my sixth birthday came and went, and one day all the children were moved to the sanctuary and told we had a very special visitor that was going to talk to us about something important. I was still feeling rage at most of the church and most Christians, and was not at all interested in this special guest – until the door opened and my friend walked in. The adults in the room were nervous in that way that many congregation members used to be nervous around ministers.

Because it was my friend, and because it was obvious to me that even the teachers were impressed that this man was here, I sat still and listened as Dr. Prince told us that he knew that sometimes when you’re a kid it seems like no one has time to listen to you, or they don’t understand how important something is to you. He told us to think of someone we loved, who we knew loved us back, and to imagine what it was like if they were never too busy to listen, never doing something so important that they couldn’t stop and help us, someone who loved us even if we were bad. He told us that Jesus loved us more than anyone else in the whole world, even our parents or grandparents. He told us that Jesus even loved us all so much that He asked God to punish him instead of us. He quoted Revelation 3:20, “Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me.” He said we could give Jesus the key to our hearts and invite Him.

A seed was planted in my heart that day. A seed that bloomed several days later. I was at home when Dr. Prince’s words came back to me. There was a terrible thunderstorm outside, and down the hall there were angry voices as my parents argued with one another over whatever it is that adults argue over. I was scared, terrified in fact, but I couldn’t go to Mother or Daddy. Not then. Not while they were fighting. I remembered what Dr. Prince had said about Jesus never being too busy, and I began to pray, though I didn’t know it was prayer.

I told Jesus that I didn’t know I had a key to my heart, or understand that part, but that I understood that everyone I loved, loved Him. That they all said Jesus loved them back and that Dr. Prince said Jesus loved me too, and wanted to help me and I told Him that He could have my key. I told him that I understood that everybody did something that Jesus didn’t like, and that I was sorry if I made Him sad. I spoke to God about great theological issues with the understanding of a child, and it was enough. I felt like a light went on around me. I felt like loving arms wrapped around me. I felt a rush of love like I have only felt when in God’s arms. It was like a veil had been pulled away between two worlds, and now I could see into God’s world. It was emersion in love, peace, joy. Fear vanished instantly. It was as much a physical sensation as an emotional one. In that instance came understanding. Over the years many Christians have shared similar experiences with me. No non-Christian can understand it.
The very next day I ran to tell my best friend about my “new friend.” She accepted Christ as Lord and Savior on the floor of my bedroom where we were playing dolls.

Days later I made a public profession of faith, and the amen-pew of the church objected. I was too young. I couldn’t possibly understand! Best to make me wait! Dr. Prince suggested a meeting, a one on one talk, with a few deacons present, to see if I understood or not. When the meeting was over my baptism was scheduled.

That’s been almost a half century ago, and God has never let me down, though I must have made Him cry many tears over the years. When I look back on it all, I wonder when God first stepped into my life. Was it when Dr. Prince looked out that window? Or was it when that window was built in that church building? It doesn’t matter of course. What matters is that God’s love prevails even against human error.

The lessons I learned from all of that have helped me as I worked with children in the church over the years. I try never to forget that children hear the adults around them. I try to remember that no matter how tired we may be, how frustrated we may be, we have a duty to display the love of Christ, not only to fellow Christians, but especially to the non-believers. How can they believe in the unconditional love of Christ if we keep showing them hate and prejudice? How lost would we be if Christ treated us the way we often treat one another?

I know He lives

Almost 50 years ago a very rebellious little girl was convinced that everything people told her about Jesus Christ was a lie, but I came to know that Christ is not a lie, a fable, or a fantasy.  When my relationship with Him was new there was one old hymn that meant everything to me.  It was not, “Jesus loves me,” but rather, “I serve a risen Savior.”  Now, more than ever, in a world that mocks His existence, this beautiful hymn holds a very special meaning to me.

I serve a risen Savior
He’s in the world today.
I know that He is living,
Whatever men may say,
I see His hand of mercy;
I hear His voice of cheer;
And just the time I need Him
He’s always near

He lives. He lives. Christ Jesus lives today!
He walks with me and talks with me along life’s narrow way.
He lives. He lives, salvation to impart!
You ask me how I know He lives?
He lives within my heart.

It isn’t easy for someone who has never met Christ to understand the reality of Christ.  It isn’t easy for a Christian to help others understand.  Every Christian makes mistakes in their walk with Christ, and every Christian makes mistakes in dealing with other people, Christian or not.  Every relationship with Christ is unique and special.  I’ve learned a few things along the way that I hope might help others, and I offer them now, not from the stance of some saint that believes she should be imitated, but rather as a sinner who hopes you can avoid my mistakes, share my joys, and most of all, learn to trust the love of Christ.