Looking back over the past year I consider it nothing but a miracle that I could handle one of the saddest times in my life so well.  My Dad had been the victim of Parkinson disease for more than 20 years.  It is so sad to see a loved one who is so intelligent be reduced to such a state of dementia and helplessness.  Finally Dad quit walking and had to be admitted to a nursing home.  I always prayed through the years for his healing.  Well, the Parkinson’s was pretty much under control for the 6 years he was a resident in the home.  Things seemed to settle to a “normal” routine until last March.  He started to lose a lot of weight and he developed a cough.  Tests unfortunately came back as terminal lung cancer. NOBODY in Dad’s family had ever had lung cancer or any kind of cancer.  Of course right away I started making my bargains with God if he would heal him.  Unfortunately this wasn’t to be.  But I started seeming an appreciation for a man I so dearly loved.  I spent all the time I could with him.  So many prayers went up on his behalf.

Looking back I truly believe I received a blessing called time to spend and talk with a loved one.  I would sit and talk with him and through his dementia we had memorable talks.  I would tell him I loved him.  See, my idea is so many people don’t have this extra time and it would be sorely regretted.  Well, Dad lost his fight in May.  I had been asked if I thought God had answered my prayers because he didn’t get better.  I seriously believe that when a healing is prayed for God will ask us if we want to be healed or do we want the promise of something much better in heaven.  I also believe my prayers were answered because he didn’t lay and suffer long.  I find comfort in the fact that I will see him again someday.

No, my prayers weren’t exactly answered the way I would have liked but I do know I was heard.

Do you feel worthless?  Do you feel like you’re a mistake?  Don’t Believe It!

You are special – You are uniquely and beautifully made!

I remember as a child, my mother told me in the heat of an argument that she was sorry I was born.  When I was in my twenties, she told me the story how she tried to abort me 3 times.  These statements surely had a negative affect on me well into my 30s.  Thank God, he has healed me from the stings of these words.  Today, I look at these happenings in a very different way….despite the fact that my mom tried to abort me several times…God willed me into existence.  What incredible plan God must have for my life.  It made me also realize that my words might have hurt people and that we need to be careful about what we say to one another.  The subconscious can’t take a joke.

Words are one thing.  I can only imagine the abuse some of you might have had to endure.  Some of you might had to endure not only verbal abuse but also physical and sexual abuse.  Watching the movie “Precious” gave a glimpse of what that would be like.

Abuses like that can make you feel worthless and full of shame.  I understand that there are even symptoms of guilt with being sexually abused, making you feel like that somehow it’s your fault you have been abused.  Let me make it perfectly clear…these are all lies of the enemy, who wants nothing less than to kill and destroy you.  Don’t you believe it!

You are special!
There is only one like you and God has a plan for your life.  He willed you and me into existence.  Let’s take a look at what the Bible says about your and my existence.

For You formed my inward parts; You covered me in my mother’s womb.  Psalms 139:13 (NKJV)

I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Marvelous are Your works, And that my soul knows very well.  Psalms 139:14 (NKJV)

“Are not two sparrows sold for a copper coin? And not one of them falls to the ground apart from your Father’s will. “But the very hairs of your head are all numbered.  “Do not fear therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows.  Matt 10:29-31 (NKJV)

Your eyes saw my substance, being yet unformed. And in Your book they all were written, The days fashioned for me, When as yet there were none of them.  How precious also are Your thoughts to me, O God! How great is the sum of them!  Psalms 139:16-17 (NKJV)

God Loves You!
In this the love of God was manifested toward us, that God has sent His only begotten Son into the world, that we might live through Him.  In this is love, not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent His Son to be the propitiation for our sins.  1 John 4:9-10 (NKJV)

“For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.  ”For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved.  John 3:16-17 (NKJV)

God Can Help

The name of the LORD is a strong tower; The righteous run to it and are safe. Prov 18:10 (NKJV)

He gives power to the weak, And to those who have no might He increases strength.  Isaiah 40:29 (NKJV)

He heals the brokenhearted And binds up their wounds.  Psalms 147:3 (NKJV)

Fear not, for I am with you; Be not dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, Yes, I will help you, I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.’  Isaiah 41:10 (NKJV)

Blessed are those who mourn, For they shall be comforted.  Matt 5:4 (NKJV)

“Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.  ”Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  ”For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.”  Matt 11:28-30 (NKJV)

New Beginnings
We can’t undo our past, at the same time however, we should not live with our false past identity.   I surely could have not done it myself.  God has not only healed me, but he has also given me a new identity…one that is based on my true identity that is in Christ.  As a Christian, we are no longer bound by our old identity…we’re a new creation.

Jesus is waiting.  Ask him to give you a new identity.  His word says…”Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it wll be opened to you.  “or everyone who asks receives, and he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks it will be opened.  Matt 7:7-8 (NKJV)

Check out this beautiful video You are Special – by Max Lucado

Also, check out our articles on We’re Created Different, But We’re All Useful, What is Heaven? A world better than Avatar’s Pandora, Can Your God Do This?, In The Wilderness, It’s not fair! But, why isn’t life fair? And, can it be?, The Comforting Word of God, Salvation, Success and Failure Articles,

Somewhere around age 40 a strange shift happened.  When I was younger, I literally fed on being busy.  And I’m not talking about a healthy busy…you know, living with purpose – having a few places to go, some people to see, etc.  No, I’m talking about insane busy – life on overdrive 24/7.  And I loved it!  I loved having a every single moment so compressed that even Einstein would have said, “This woman is going to upset the time continuum if she adds even 15 more seconds of activity to her day!”

I remember one day in particular.  I was working for a Los Angeles radio station and I was a little late to an appointment (first time ever) so I was flying down the 5 Freeway (just a few miles over the speed limit).  Well, I wasn’t exactly behind schedule – let’s just say I didn’t have an extra 30 seconds to spare.  I was weaving around the “slow pokes” with amazing skill …when a thought flashed across my mind.  ”I am really an important person because I have an appointment!  And better yet, it’s not my only appointment, I have lots of appointments which is why I’m barely going to make it to this one on time.  I have really arrived – I’m busy so I’m important!”

Now of course it is fun to have purpose and commitments, etc, but I hope you can see that this attitude was a little off. And here’s the thing…I really believed it.

Well, again, somewhere around 40 this vague cloud of exhaustion started following me everywhere I went as I sped around on overdrive.  I still believed that being busy meant I had value, but the crazy pace was beginning to wear on me.  After a few years, I still kept up my workday pace, but I started to find myself withdrawing at nights and on weekends.  At first it was just one night a week, but it slowly grew to the point I almost resented having to make any social plans at all…didn’t want to be pinned in.  What if when that scheduled time came around I didn’t feel like it? Everyone wants something from me and I have nothing left to give!  “I gave at the office” took on a whole new meaning.

Again, as I noted this growing behavior, I grew to like it.  Ok, that’s just me – I’m maturing.  But then it seemed that I couldn’t get enough time alone and away from the crowd.  If I had too many social activities on a weekend I would find my anxiety rise exponentially – which also would guarantee a very short fuse the entire next week.  I became aware of how much time I needed to “recoup” from all the workday “performing” and all that I thought others demanded of me.

Well, I’m not a total recluse today, and don’t get me wrong – I know I need my friends probably more than they need me.  But I do still find myself needing to retreat and give myself plenty of unstructured “down time.”  When I don’t, all the activity becomes completely meaningless…even depressing.  I was enjoying some of this precious alone time rattling around in the garden a few Saturdays ago.  Then I remembered a social event I had committed to. Agh!  I watched myself instantly begin brainstorming ways to get out of it, and of course, the internal angst level started rising.
That’s when I thought of Him.  How did Jesus handle it?  How could He stand all those crowds, people pressing in on every side, following Him everywhere He went, trying to catch Him in His words – with not a second to Himself?  How did He do it!?  Oh sure, He snuck off now and then to be alone and talk with the Father. But more often than not, it seems that He somehow managed to push Himself to keep going.  But why!?  I mean, He already had the great networking thing of the 12 apostles going.  Couldn’t they just pass along His teachings?  How could He stand it? How did He keep moving to the next town, and the next town and keep healing, keep teaching…keep on? And all those people!  Endless lines of people that wanted something from Him! Ugh!

But then it hit me – He pushed Himself, He pressed on for individuals. In each incident He had someone’s face on His mind – someone waiting in the next town who needed to hear about the love of the Father…and He had to get there. He had appointments!  Oh, they didn’t think they had appointments.  No, they didn’t know, but He did. I think Jesus had individuals’ faces on His mind and on His heart.  He knew their hurts and confusions, their hopes, their disillusionments.  He not only knew the people who would be changed forever with a word, or even a glance, but He knew exactly where each would notice Him and what would catch their eye or ear.  Yes, these people were usually in crowds, but they were individuals to Him…individuals that He loved.

I wonder if He would have walked all night to meet with me? Would He walk all night for an appointment with you?

Also see Seeking God, Laziness, Success, Peace, Trusting God, Money, How to succeed in tough economic times

Baseball great Yogi Berra’s “déjà vu all over again” quote will likely appear often, as Brett Favre threw another interception at the end of a conference championship game, just like in January of 2008. Will he retire, or not? And, if he retires, will he stay retired? Between him and Conan O’Brien, who list the battle with Jay Leno over the 11:30 time slot, future employment will be in celebrity news for weeks or even months.

Interesting that, in each case, they likely want to do something. It’s doubtful O’Brien will give up comedy, though he could with his severance package. As for Favre, pro athletes are so used to competition and cheering, it would be hard to imagine him spending his whole life golfing and fishing, even if we think we would with his millions.

The reason it’s hard to imagine is, we are born with a desire to do something. Even the first man, Adam, didn’t just sit around doing nothing. His job was to till the garden in Eden, to dress it and keep it nice. This was a much easier job before the Fall, of course.

When Adam and Even sinned, things changed. To use our present examples, a Brett Favre can’t play quarterback without 300-pound guys clobbering him. The old adage is that football is not just a contact sport, it’s a collision sport. Because sin came into the world, these collisions cause Favre to get banged up, and to age to the point where someday, he’ll realize his body can’t take it. Similarly, Conan O’Brien is in a job where jokes fall flat sometimes. Sometimes, communication fails, and there can easily be someone better who can take that job.

These are the “thorns and thistles” of their jobs, the problems of working that have existed since sin entered the world. Tilling the garden would have been easy for Adam. But, because sin was brought into the world, with his job came problems. And, the ground would produce thorns and thistles. (Genesis 3:18)

Every difficulty we encounter, no matter what our work, can be traced back to these thorns and thistles. Every task that seems fruitless, every attempt to get something done that fails, comes because of this. Favre’s interceptions, his many bruises and aches, come because this world is not the perfect place it was created to be. Conan’s struggles with his employer, as well as times when any comedian is “just dying out there,” are the consequences of sin having been brought into the world back at the dawn of time.

Of course, work has success, too. God promises that success will come in that verse, when He tells Adam he shall eat the herb of the field. What he is saying, though, is that that herb is going to be hard to come by, much harder than if sin were not present. And, in the same way, Favre and O’Brien have each tasted great success in their jobs. Favre is a surefire Hall of Famer who increased his prestige with an incredible season. Conan O’Brien is seen by many as a great comedian, even with his problems.

Some jobs bring more difficulties than others, of course. In some, it’s the location – a house in a poor market might not sell for months, even with the best seller. Ratings are dependent on the competition and “lead in” viewers. A quarterback can struggle mightily with no supporting cast. At times, it’s the nature of the job. Favre’s successor, Aaron Rodgers, saw an incredible playoff game go to waste because of defensive struggles. And, the best doctor can’t save every patient. Even in a field where that doctor would rarely ever see something bad, there will always be that one case that turns out to be an untreatable cancer. Thorns and thistles come up in every field.

And yet, when all is said and done, that agent can find someone to buy, if the price is low enough. The surgeon in the busiest emergency room, with the worst accidents, will be able to save some. A truly great quarterback can still get noticed by the Hall of Fame eventually, and a great comedian can get laughs from someone. The herb of the field will come. It will just be with a lot of effort, a lot of toil, and a lot of sweat.

That toil and sweat of the brow comes at us just as it came at Adam, and just as it comes for Favre and O’Brien – whatever they choose to do. However, the next verse, Genesis 3:19, points to what Favre and O’Brien must both consider. Eternal rewards are the only ones that will last, and they must start to earn these, instead of only Earthly ones. To get those, we must receive Christ’s forgiveness.

Consider Adam’s situation. He learns that he will have to work much harder to get any yield from the land. He will do this in sorrow his whole life, realizing what once was. Yes, he would be able to get the herb of the field eventually. But, even when he did, it would seem so fruitless at times. The toil and sweat of his brow would make labor so tiring. And, after all that labor, what would he get? A physical body that would grow old, decay, and die. Just as Brett Favre and Conan O’Brien – and all of us – have.

God knew this. He didn’t want any of us to be surprised. The fact that Adam would have to toil and sweat was an implied part of that warning back in Gen. 2:17 that he would surely die. This phrase, literally translated, says, “dying, you will die.” In other words, the process of death would begin right away, and would continue until, at long last, Adam returned to dust. Gen. 3:19, then, is telling Adam just how that would happen. Just as we will turn to dust someday and so will celebrities like Favre and O’Brien.

Of course, some work is more joyful than others. When Paul Harvey, the great radio commentator, passed away, there was a clip of him stating something to the effect that he’d never “worked” a day in his life. It was always so much fun. Just as Favre, when he looks at it, keeps coming back to the thrill of the game. (And, thus, keeps coming out of retirement.) And, just as O’Brien keeps looking at the thrill of doing stand-up comedy. Sure, it takes a lot of toil and sweat, as it did for Mr. Harvey. But, if you ask them, they’d probably echo his sentiments.

This is an element of God’s grace. It shows that God, in His perfect love, has created each of us with interests that, if we hone them, will grow into lifelong work that we’ll love. We’ll love it because God has matched us to that work. Paul Harvey still worked, of course. But, he had found that one specific thing which he could do that brought him pleasure. Just as Favre and O’Brien no doubt have.

This is not a sign of salvation per se; plenty of saved people toil in unhappy situations, and plenty of unsaved love their jobs. What it means is that God loves us, and it’s one of the ways He shows that love to us. There is always that reminder – through how we age – that our bodies are but dust. However, he provides us with grace, so we can have life, and have it more abundantly. (John 10:10)

However, Adam was still mortal, as we all are. He would return to the ground. Even if someone is the greatest ever at what they do, all the things they do in this life build treasures on earth. Ones that moth and rust can corrupt, and thieves can break forth and steal. (Matt. 6:19) That frail, physical body simply returns to the dust.

Yet, Adam could receive God’s forgiveness for his sin – that means forgiveness for falling short of God’s perfect glory. And, so can anyone. We must each accept that we’re sinners, in need of a Savior. Simply receive, by simple faith, God’s forgiveness, through what Jesus Christ, God in flesh, did on the cross. He was sinless, yet He became sin for us. He was the substitute, he took the punishment for our sins, when He died on the cross, and then he rose from the dead, just as we who receive Him will be raised someday. To as many as received Him, gave He the power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on His name. (John 1:12) This means trusting Him by simple faith to forgive us for our sins.

Once a person trusts in Jesus Christ as their Savior, they are assured of a home in God’s perfect Heaven, where there is no pain, no suffering, no heartache. One can only get to heaven by receiving that forgiveness, because when we do, God makes us a new creature on the inside; He comes to live in us and guide us to becoming more like Him.

When a person has received Christ as their Savior, they can earn rewards in Heaven, by serving the Lord. A person can serve the Lord in a secular job, of course – you don’t have to be a missionary to serve Him. But, to build treasure in Heaven, a Christian must live with an eye toward doing things that glorify and honor Him and draw others to Him.

It is vital that we lay up treasures in Heaven, where they can’t decay, grow old, or be stolen. (Matt. 6:20) This applies just as much to us as it did to Adam. We, too, have physical bodies that will return to the ground. However, we also have that promised Redeemer, Jesus Christ. He longs for us to turn to Him. He longs for us to be born again, through what He did for us on the cross, dying and rising from the dead. And, then, He longs for us to build those treasures in heaven, so we don’t have to be empty-handed when we approach the throne of God. We can have crowns to lay at His feet. We can have wonderful, eternal blessings that go beyond this world, into eternal rewards.

These rewards are what Favre and O’Brien should seek. Favre can’t play quarterback as long as O’Brien can do comedy. Both must realize that – while God has been gracious in giving each something that fills them with joy, no matter what they do, if they seek only Earthly gain, it will all be wasted. They can’t last forever. But, if they receive Christ, they can live forever, and they can serve the Lord in whatever He provides for them, that will glorify and honor Him.

When I moved into my home five years ago, a dear friend helped me. She did this because she had superior skills in organization, detail, interior decorating, landscaping…and more. She also did this because I was not physically able to do a lot of things due to an undiagnosed physical challenge. She had a habit of modeling the love of God to people by being there to help when help was needed. Although, I was not one to ask for help or readily receive it until this infamous first year in my home.

I eventually underwent surgery to repair a hip degeneration. Due to the delay in making the diagnosis, I experienced some muscle atrophy (shrinking) and remained out of work for over eight months while trying to recuperate from a total hip replacement. I had never in my life experienced anything like this. I relied on many friends during this period of healing. It taught me many things…to be discussed another day.

During this time, this dear friend planted many things in my yard that I had never seen before. I trusted her and her skills for long-range planning. All I saw was dirt but she had a vision and I trusted her.

Because we live in an area of the country that suffers from lack of water, she chose some trees that she knew would do well in my dry, hard soil and recurring winds. All I knew was that these saplings were not very big and needed to be protected and sustained with secure poles. She told me these were Melaleuca trees (also called tea trees). I had no idea what the years of growth would bring. What a surprise was ahead!

As the years passed, I was aware of their increasing size due to change in height on the poles that they were securely attached to. They were getting taller and stronger and began to be sturdy enough to sustain themselves against the gusting winds. Then one day they began to produce a flower that the bees flocked to for nourishment. Amazing…my little saplings had grown into beautiful, strong, life-sustaining reminders of a very cleaver and creative Power!

As the seasons passed, I enjoyed my tree with its peeling bark. I was fascinated by the beauty of the bark that hung in layers on the trunks.  Each piece of bark had its own unique connection point and shape. At times, the pieces seemed to dangle, sustained by tiny and sometimes invisible-to-the-eye connection points. I watched and waited to see when and if the bark would fall. The colors in this maturation process were spectacular.

Then, this last June, I was out front watering and started to notice how smooth the trunk of the tree had become wherever the bark had fallen off. It was large and was now immovable by anything. Then I heard the Lord say, “Your life is like this tree. Layers upon layers have gently fallen off as you have grown in me and allowed me to stretch you to new heights. The beauty and strength that was hidden under the exterior covering has become more exquisite and the foundation has become stronger as you have allowed the layers to fall off in my time. This can’t happen unless you allow the old to be removed to make room for the new.”

What was so amazing was that I never even really noticed how majestic the trees had become. I saw them every day and just took them for granted. I enjoyed them so very much but hadn’t taken time to really study them. Imagine my amazement as He paralleled what had happened in my own life during many years walking with Him. I was so preoccupied with the present that I could not see how far He had taken me and how I had changed.

I was given a promise in a dream fifteen years earlier that I continually hold in my heart. Isaiah 40:28-31…”He created all the world. Don’t you know? Haven’t you heard? The LORD is the everlasting God; He never grows tired or weary. No one understands his thoughts. He strengthens those who are weak and tired. Even those who are young grow weak; young people can fall exhausted. But those who trust in the LORD for help will find their strength renewed. They will rise on wings like eagles; they will run and not get weary; they will walk and not grow weak”.

I love to hear His promise in Jeremiah 29:11-13…“I alone know the plans. I have for you, plans to bring you prosperity and not disaster, plans to bring abou the future you hope for. Then you will call to me. You will come and pray to me, and I will answer you. You will seek me, and you will find me because you will seek me with all your heart.“

During my years of trials, tribulations, tears and triumphs I had sought Him with all my heart. I had no choice. There were no other answers…no other way. I knew that.

Like my melaleuca trees, I have become stronger, steadier, able to withstand the winds of time that rage against me. I continue to seek Him with all my heart. I see the Glory of His love and the power that His Son gave to me when He gave up His own life. This wisdom, love and power that He promised in His comforter, the Holy Spirit, changes my life as He fulfills the dreams in my heart.

Do you feel like a little sapling hanging on with all your might? Does it feel like you’ll never get strong enough to withstand what is hurled against you? Are you having trouble seeing any change in your life or in who you are? Don’t give up! He is standing right next to you, attached to you, sustaining you during your growth. I promise you He will never leave you or abandon you. He loves you too much. He knows the beauty that is hidden and He plans on showing you off to the world! He plans on using all your talents and gifts, in His time and when He knows you’re ready. In the meantime, stand back…take a look…see how far you have come! You might be surprised…just like I was.

This story was written for my friend, Sandra Stiles, a public middle school teacher who lost her older sister and best friend, Gloria, a year and a half ago to pulmonary problems. It was her wish to spend time with her sister again.

It had been one of “those” days. Sandra’s students had been exceptionally rude, uncooperative and snotty all week and she was done. It had taken every ounce of strength she possessed to keep her cool and deal with them according to the current parameters. How she longed for the days when principals and teachers could paddle their young charges into better behavior but now the inmates were running the asylums!

It was Friday afternoon and she had a short weekend in which she must cram grading of papers, reading challenges, dealing with family, cleaning house, etc., before it all started over again. Something had to give. She felt like a rat on a treadmill!  She was burned out and needed some kind of retreat.  She lugged her papers, books and laptop to the car and drove home, going over in her head all the things she needed to take care of before she could go to bed. She was exhausted just thinking about it.

When she got home, she checked the mail and found nothing but a brightly colored envelope in her mailbox. No junk mail, no circulars, nothing else. She looked at it closely.  Her heart practically stopped when she recognized the handwriting of her sister, Gloria, on the envelope:

“Special surprise inside for my little sister, Sandra”

All the other items in her arms slid out and fell unnoticed onto the pavement as she began to shake. If this was Brad’s idea of a joke, it wasn’t funny! She began to fume. She ripped open the envelope and suddenly the world around her began to spin faster and faster. It felt like she was caught in a tornado but instead of dust, rooted up bushes, and farm animals swirling around her, the wind was glittering like fairy dust.  When the whirlwind finally stopped she struggled to catch her breath. Her heart was pounding and she felt dizzy. She looked around and sucked in her breath.

“Toto, I don’t think we’re in Florida anymore …” she murmured to herself. She didn’t know where she was! She looked around and saw beautiful, undulating meadows as far as the eye could see, weeping willows scattered here and there and in the midst of it all, a lone white clapboard cottage with a wrap-around porch, a white picket fence, geraniums growing in the black window boxes and lacy white curtains blowing in and out of the windows with each sigh of the wind. Under the eaves an orange canary was trilling a beautiful tune in its cage. With a surge of nervous anticipation, Sandra walked up to the front door and raised her hand to knock.  Before her fist could meet the door it flew open and she found herself enveloped in a giant bear hug, her vision obscured by a cloud of curly, golden brown hair.

“Sandra! Sandra! Sandra!” cooed the familiar and beloved voice rocking her in strong arms. Tears burst out of Sandra’s eyes and she pushed herself back enough to take in the view. Standing there, alive, healthy and beaming was her dearly departing sister Gloria! “Welcome!” Gloria bellowed, her grin spreading from ear to ear.

“What, who, when, how-“ screamed Sandra looking her up and down over and over again, sounding like a journalist pursuing a story.

“God decided you deserved a weekend retreat quilting, crafting, talking and eating!” Gloria announced, her face beaming. “I have all the supplies we need, all our favorite foods but no television, no phones, and no surly students.  Just the two of us! Two peas in a pod!”

“How is this possible?” Sandra demanded, allowing Gloria to pull her into the house by the hand.

“With God all things are possible!” Gloria responded with a mysterious wink, making it quite clear Sandra was going to get no further explanation.  She entered the cottage and sucked in her breath at its’ cozy charm. White painted floorboards, white wainscoting, cheerful yellow walls with red accessories here and there, a large quilter’s table with two chairs with a quilt already started stretched across it. There was a smaller crafter’s table with supplies spread all over it, a cheery fire in the fireplace, and a sideboard loaded with all the comfort food one could want and in the background soothing Christian worship music was playing.

“The Master thought of everything!” beamed Gloria, rubbing her hands with glee. “I’ve have been longing for this day for over a year!”

At these words, sobs bubbled up outside of Sandra and she covered her face with her hands, remembering the sorrow and grief at losing her sister and best friend in the whole world and the day of the funeral when she had had to say “goodbye”.

“Gloria-“she choked, unable to express what she was feeling. Gloria’s smile didn’t fade but her eyes became tender and understanding.

“I know it hurt to lose me, Sandra…” she said, enfolding her sister in her arms again to comfort her. “But I really am in a better place.  Heaven is more lovely than I could ever express and doesn’t it make it seem that much more real to you now that you know someone you love is there waiting for you?”

Sandra nodded feebly, unable to speak.

“We won’t be parted much longer,” Gloria said, rubbing her back tenderly, “and you will always have this time together again to look back on and find joy and hope when you need it.  Now, dry your tears, sit down and let’s start! What do you want to do first?!”

With that the sister’s sat down and spent what seemed like an entire week talking, laughing, quilting, eating and just enjoying one another’s company.  Sandra never saw her sister cook anything but every day and at every mealtime there was new and wonderful food all prepared, piping hot and then mysteriously cleaned up so that they could spend their time just having fun.

It all came to end too soon for Sandra and the day arrived when there was no more food prepared and all the craft projects had been completed, much to the sister’s satisfaction. It was the best time Sandra could ever remember having, completely free of responsibility, deadlines and interruptions. Just “Sandra and Gloria” time. She was sad to have it end.

“There is one more thing…well, several more things, surprises really, we have for you before you return.” Gloria said, sitting her down in a large, overstuffed cotton chintz floral chair.

“What?” asked Sandra, wondering what on earth could possibly be better than the week she had just spent with her sister? Her soul felt thoroughly refreshed but she was still apprehensive at having to leave and face the real world again. The pressure, the deadlines and the students who acted as if they were serving a prison sentence instead of being given the privilege of getting an education that would help prepare them for life…

“Just wait and see!” Gloria grinned, sitting down in a chair next to her, clutching Sandra’s hand to her heart with excitement. At that moment the doorbell rang, practically making Sandra jump out of her chair in fright. For an entire week there had been no noise but the sound of their chatter, laughter, music and eating. It was so abrupt it really startled her. With a grin and a wink, Gloria went to the door, and flung it open to reveal a tall, distinguished looking executive.

He was dressed in a gorgeous pin-striped business suit, was clean-shaven and had a suitcase in his hand. He walked right up to Sandra’s chair, got down on one knee, took her hand in his and in a wavering voice said just two words: “Thank you!”

Sandra was speechless and didn’t know how to respond. After him came another man, this time it was a professor of literature, then a woman in a nurse’s uniform; on and on it went until the room was filled with professionals from all walks of life of varying ages, all standing there and looking down at her with eyes brimming with tears and smiles of gratitude.

“Gloria…” Sandra said, rising to her feet, her voice shaking. “Who are all these people?”

“We have all been students of yours at one time or another or are yet to be,” explained the nurse, gesturing to all those around her.

“I don’t understand…” Sandra said, although she was beginning to get an inkling of what was happening.

“At one time, during the course of our lives as your students, (both past and yet future) you gave each one of us either an encouraging word, a helping hand, or maybe just an understanding smile that made all the difference in the course of our lives,” said the first man. “We were on a road that was leading us nowhere but the fact that you gave of yourself to us as a teacher and mentor changed everything.  We have all asked for special permission to come here and tell you thank you so that you will know that your labor has not been and is not in vain.”

“Thank you Ms. Stiles!” they all chorused, gathering around her.

Sandra turned and looked at Gloria who was crying and laughing at the same time, beaming at her little sister. “Never forget, little sister, just how very proud I am of you!” Gloria said and held her close for one last long embrace.

In that moment, Sandra knew that everything was going to be better no matter what the circumstances of life might bring.  She closed her eyes…ready to finally part if only for a little while.

Gloria wasn’t really gone, she was just on the other side of the veil, waiting on the day when Sandra too would join her and their reunion would be permanent. For now, it was sufficient to realize that all she did day in and day out at school, in her church and at home had a meaning and purpose much greater than she would ever be able to know this side of eternity and for now…that was enough.

My personal “storm” occurred about 25 years ago and started out rather innocuously. I remember the day well, it was the day after I had gone to Knotts Berry Farm with my boyfriend (now husband) Michael. I got what I thought was an ordinary case of diarrhea and took the typical over the counter remedies but nothing seemed to work. This ailment continued for the next two weeks and when I began noticing blood, I decided it was time to see a doctor. I went and saw a regular MD who had me undergo a lower GI barium x-ray which showed nothing. For a few days after that I had relief then it started up again with a vengeance; making me feel weak and exhausted. I then sought the services of an internist who performed no tests but put me on a more restricted diet and took my money for a year, only to have my symptoms become worse. I began to feel punished anytime I ate and started dropping weight. Finally my mother who had been worried sick about me, insisted I see a specialist. By this time I was so miserable, I agreed. His name was Dr. Jerome Cohen. He took my history, did a sigmoidoscopy on me and then informed me he was not going to mess around with my health like the other doctors. He was going to have to do a colonoscopy to find out exactly what was wrong.

After the procedure I was informed I officially had a “disease”. It was ulcerative colitis and while there was no medicinal cure, there were things that could help. I was only 24 and was depressed to learn I actually had a disease. He started me on prednisone which many doctors call a miracle drug because it temporarily will remove many symptoms of an immune system gone haywire. What they don’t tell you is how bad this drug is for you physically in the long run and how awful it makes you behave in the short term. It’s like having perpetual “road rage” and raging PMS at the same time but it did stop my symptoms immediately. After almost 2 years of almost nonstop diarrhea, bleeding and abdominal pain, I had almost instant relief. During this time, I had gotten engaged and was planning to marry. The only thing I could say that I liked about the disease was losing the weight but it was a heck of a way to do it. To save money, I moved back home to Torrance and commuted to Orange County every day. I wouldn’t eat or drink a thing until after I had gotten to work so as to avoid “waking my bowels” up. To say that I knew where every public bathroom was on my 60 mile commute was an understatement. Sometimes I barely made it to a bathroom in time despite not eating.

As the days and weeks progressed after our wedding, it took higher and higher doses of Prednisone to keep the ulcerative colitis in check. The increase in dosage also increased my heart rate, my rage and impatience and started bloating my face and body up to the point where I looked like an organ transplant patient who was fighting rejection of the new organ. My new marriage was taking an awful beating. I was practically chained to the bathroom, could hardly eat and was making life hell for my poor new husband who began secretly considering divorce before we had kids as I was no longer the person he had married.

By now I was up to 45 grams of Prednisone a day, I was having bathroom accidents frequently (which were totally humiliating) and if I continued putting up with ulcerative colitis for several more years, it would lead to colon cancer. My life had become so miserable that I really had no options left but to schedule surgery. At this time a Christian friend at work invited me to come to her church to hear a man preach who had a miraculous healing ministry. By this time I had scheduled the surgery to remove my colon and I was frightened of the subsequent pain and changes to my body. Even though by this time I had become quite jaded towards ministers claiming to have special healing ministries, I was desperate enough to try and attend; pleading with the Lord to heal me miraculously rather than through the expensive, painful surgery I was facing. I made myself a promise that I would not tell the preacher what was wrong; that if he was the real deal; God would have to give him a specific “word of knowledge” about my condition and approach me for healing, not the other way around. My husband was incredulous but agreed to go with me. I stood and wept silently throughout the entire service with tears streaming down my face, pleading with God to heal me so I wouldn’t have to face surgery. The preacher either didn’t notice me or was afraid to approach me. Whatever the reason, he made no reference to me and I left without having a miracle but still trusting the Lord.

I entered the hospital on October 8th, about a week before my 28th birthday. Next to me sat a young girl in the hospital admissions office that was facing open heart surgery. I decided I was glad that I was not having what she was but I was still apprehensive. My husband signed me in and they began prepping me for surgery the next day. The night before I had taken a colon cleanser (which resulted in another accident early the next morning before going to the hospital). That night there was no food, just a lot of antibiotic pills. So much so in fact that I ended up throwing them all up. Early the next morning I was wheeled down to surgery with my poor husband at my bedside. They had given me a shot of Demurral to calm my nerves and I was cracking jokes to the nurses. They wheeled me in, transferred me to the operating table and swabbed my entire abdomen with orange antiseptic. I remember counting backwards and only getting to 90. When I awoke from the anesthesia it was with a shock of pain. I couldn’t talk and could hardly take a breath, nor could I ask the nurses for more Morphine for the horrific pain while they discussed the latest videos they had rented.

They wheeled me up to my post-surgical room. My nurse was Stella and I’ll never forget how she hovered over me like a mother bird, putting pillows all around me, feeding me ice-chips and hooking up hoses and tubes to every opening in my body. Although I was weak I was very conscious of her exceptional care and was able to thank her months later face to face and tell her how much it had meant to me. I had a long vertical scar stretching from the bottom of my chest all the way down to almost my pubic area like a big zipper. I had a NG tube snaked down through my nose/throat into my stomach. I had a suction hose attached to where my rectum used to be and a large IV that was in my neck to feed me and hydrate me. And last but not least, I had an illesotomy bag and was catheterized to save me numerous trips to pass water in the bathroom.

I was only supposed to be in the hospital for 10 days maximum. I couldn’t eat anything at all for a few days then only clear liquids to start. Food and restaurant commercials on the TV were absolute torture. Slowly they began introducing bland food into my diet and on my birthday my surgeon had sent a birthday cake to me in my room but for some reason it tasted like dirt. I was warned that I would have a lot of gas so when I started experiencing a lot of pain and belching, I attributed it to gas. The night before I was supposed to be released, I was watching the world series with my husband in my hospital room. My husband was eating fast food as was his custom. The commute from his work and our home to the hospital every night was a good 30 miles each way. Suddenly I snatched away the empty Carls Jr. bag and threw up into it. That night my nurse spent the evening walking me around the corridor as I belched and belched, getting Demurral shots for the pain every 2 hours. The next day I was supposed to be released but instead of going home, I was given an emergency upper G.I. It’s bad enough when the stuff was cold but even more disgusting when the Barium is room temperature! I was writhing in agony at this point and not knowing what was going on. Hours later, the assistant surgeon told me what it was. Since my entire large intestine had been removed, during healing the small intestine had twisted itself into knots (referred to as a blockage) and could burst unless a second surgery was performed.

“Fine!” I said. “Do whatever you have to do; just fix it!” I remember just before being put under for the second time telling the Lord that I was committing my soul into His care should I not come out alive. I had the second surgery but this time instead of staples, they had to sew me shut the old fashioned way. Inhaling was even worse this time when I awoke. I felt like I had been hit by a Mack truck. Everything that could have gone wrong with me, went wrong. My NG tube fell out while I was getting my hair washed and it had to be put back in while I was awake (horrible procedure)! This time however, while I healed my bowels stayed in place.

My poor mother and father were at my hospital bed every single day (a long commute from Torrance) for what ended up totaling 30 days. They are not believers and couldn’t wrap their heads around the notion that we hadn’t paid the people who had come from our church to pray for the entire first 7-hour surgery and the second 5-hour surgery.

Through it all, though I was in a lot of pain, I entrusted myself and my soul to the care of my creator just like a little child; knowing that whatever did or did not happen, that I was in the center of His will. It has been over 20 years since I had that surgery and I have never regretted it. As a result, I have been able to alleviate the fears of one of my mother’s friends who was facing the same surgery and was scared to death. I changed my medical dressing right in front on him; showing him that it was really no big deal. Here I was a 30ish female, exposing my stomach with my cuffed small intestine sticking out through my skin and not acting like it was a big deal. It gave him a much needed lift and encouragement and he had the surgery. He never forgot this act of kindness and has since referred to me as his “angel”. I always told him to thank God, not me, because I did it for the Lord. Recently he was able to pay the same kindness forward as he did the same thing for a woman friend of his who also had to have the same surgery and he was so glad that he finally got his chance to do someone else the same favor.

Now I lead a very normal life; I eat whatever I want, going to the bathroom takes only minutes, not hours, I can’t have any more colonoscopies because I no longer have one and I’m off those horrible drugs which caused my older sister to have hip, shoulder and cataract surgery even though she had taken a lot less than me and for a shorter period of time. God brought me through the storm instead of flying me over it and while I would never want to have to repeat it, I don’t regret any of it.

NOTE: As providence would have it, a week ago I had the absolute thrill of running into one of my two favorite nurses at an event totally unrelated to my old disease or surgery. She was talking to someone else and mentioned that her name was Taffy and that her sister’s name was Candy. At this I knew instantly who she was. She was the nurse who had walked me around the dim corridors of Hoag Hospital at night, giving me Demoral shots every two hours because of my obstruction. I stood up and asked her if she had been a nurse at Hoag Hospital more than 20 years ago and she said yes. She recognized me and we hugged and I got to tell her how very grateful I was for all the tender care and concern they gave me and that I never forgot it. She told me something I had not known at the time; that they were all deeply concerned about me and my condition and were worried that it was either an infection or an obstruction – either of which could have been very serious trouble. Fortunately God worked it all out and I’ve been fine ever since.

I have to confess…I should have been an actress.  Not because I want to be one but because I have the same insecurities and need for constant validation.  If an employer or boss tells me one day I’m doing a great job and the next day doesn’t – I start to doubt myself.

Even though my life long dream of having The Victor published occurred earlier this year (against all odds)…I still struggle with the feelings of being a “second class” author because I didn’t get published the “traditional” way.

This week (the week of my 50th birthday) I was feeling especially low. I was having serious doubts about The Victor ever being anything more than just a good read for 2 hours. It was so bad I was just ready to give up.  All the “famous people” who had gotten copies of the book months ago have never contacted me nor do I know if they have or ever will read it.

These past few days I have also seriously begun to question my purpose in life.  Who am I to think that the Lord would need to use me (a nobody who didn’t even go to college) to write a book that would reach people  for Christ?

For the first time in many years, God began to “communicate” with me in a fairly obvious way.  First on Friday (my lowest day) with a David Wilkerson Devotional.  The second was when I noticed that the scripture verse the organizers had chosen to print on all the take away bookmarks was the one the Lord gave me specifically for my book 30 years ago (Psalm 45:1).

Next Kathi Macias (the first keynote speaker and a good friend – who did not know what was going on in my life) spoke first about how Satan will use two methods (subversive and perversive) to destroy what God wants to do with the talents He has given us. BINGO. After her address, 3-time Christy Award winning author, Athol Dickson, came up and introduced himself to me and to ask me about The Victor.  I told him the basic premise of how I wanted it to be used as a long “gospel tract” to reach kids in public school and he commented on how he had been dissatisfied for the past several years at how, even though Christian fiction had improved a lot, it was still “preaching to the choir” and not reaching out to people who didn’t know Christ.

When Athol gave his talk it was like he talking specifically about what God wanted to do with my book. I just sat there and wept. It was the Lord reconfirming to me personally that The Victor was His idea, that he had a purpose for it and not to despair and give up. I gave Athol a copy of my book as a gift and wrote in it how much his talk had meant to me.

He contacted me the next day and offered his ears and prayers and has done much to get me back into the right frame of mind.

Thanks, Lord…I really needed that.

My friend, Wendy, is president of a Messianic Jewish Club.  She is a teacher of scripture, a Biblical dramatist, accomplished musician and an author.  She studied theology at Hope International University and Drama at Brown University.  Her “Women of the Bible” dramatic presentations have been performed throughout the U.S., Mexico, Israel and specifically Bethlehem.  Her first book: “The King is Born” is filled with beautiful illustrations from well-known Israeli artist, Baruch Ma’ayan and portrays the story of Jesus’ birth as it might have been experienced in ancient Israel.  Although Wendy’s current ministry calls her to work in the U.S., most of her heart remains in and longs for Israel.  The Wish Fulfillment story below was written to encourage her in the ministry she has here and to remind her that she will eventually get there.

In the Land of Milk & Honey…

Consciousness came slowly…lazily…gently.  The bird song somehow sounded different, the air heavier and sweeter.  Wendy opened her eyes slowly and beheld dappled sunlight filtering through a canopy of grape leaves, laden with heavy purple-black grapes.

She turned her head to the side and looked about her “room”.  It was simple and yet beautiful. Pure white blankets glowing with the morning sunshine lay upon her. A wooden table, elegant in its simple beauty held a bowl of fresh fruit, and a pitcher of iced tea and a glass.

With a sudden intake of breath, Wendy sat up and looked through the transparent walls of her sukkot booth.  In the distance were rolling hills of vineyards and orchards and to the other side in the distance, the lake of Galilee. She suddenly knew why the air felt heavier and sweeter…the presence of Yeshua.

How had she come to be in this place; the land where her heart beat like a drum with joy and all her senses were awakened as if from a deep stupor? Yisrael. She stood slowly, hesitantly to her feet noticing at once her white linen frock, glowing as if it possessed a light of its own.  On her feet were hand crafted sandals.  The morning sun was rising higher and with it came a breeze smelling of roses, bay laurel and the fresh scent of the sea.

She stepped outside her sukkot booth into a garden which surrounded it. It was humming with bees and fluttering butterflies, busy collecting nectar from the numerous blossoms. With pounding heart; afraid to wake up from what must surely be a dream, she slowly climbed the nearest hill, breathing deeply in and out as if each breath were nourishment. She stood and faced the holy city, Jerusalem and was stunned. It was not as she remembered it at all. The Dome of the Rock was gone and in its place stood a gleaming temple of gold and alabaster.  The filth of the Arabic section of the old city was gone, replaced by avenues of trees and streets that glistened like gold in the early light.

“Do you like it?” spoke a familiar masculine voice. Wendy closed her eyes and inhaled sharply.  It was the voice of her beloved but it was not in her head but in her ears.

“Yeshua…” she breathed, holding up her arms; tears welling up and spilling down her cheeks from underneath her closed eyes. She fell slowly to her knees. “Yeshua?”

“There is a question in the saying of my name, beloved,” came the response. “You are wanting to know if you may stay here always?”

“Yes,” whispered Wendy, barely able to breath or speak.

“My precious child,” responded the Master, gently enfolding her in His embrace. “There is no such thing as time where I am concerned; for I live outside of it…and you with Me. Where I am there you are also…and my eyes and heart of ever upon this place, so in a sense…you have never left Israel and it has never left you.  The body which you must inhabit within the human time domain is limited but not your heart or your soul. One day time will cease to exist and both body and soul will be reunited with Me in this place that remains the apple of my eye.  Can you endure until that “time” and do the work I have set before you?”

“Lord, you know my heart and soul’s desire…I will always gladly serve you” replied Wendy.

Yeshua smiled upon her and in the instant she beheld that smile she felt the sight, sounds, smells and “feel” of the land implanted indelibly upon her mind and heart.  From that moment on, wherever she placed her feet, Israel and Jerusalem went with her and before her.  A secret to enjoy between her and The Redeemer as well as the hope of the real reward yet to come.

“Now, come…” Jesus said, holding out his warm brown hand to her.  “Let us enjoy this day together and converse to our heart’s content. What would you like to do first?”

THE END

Michele Fritzler is the sister of my first love, Barry Henriot who died of a brain aneurysm when I was 22 and he was 25 back in 1982.  After his death I “adopted” his mom (Ruth) and father (Al) and had dinner with them every Sunday for a few years until Ruth and Al moved up to Oregon to be closer to their daughter, Michele,  in 1991. Barry and Michele’s dad, Al died in 1994.

Even though I have only seen Michele less than a hand full of few times, we have come to accept each other as “sisters” because of our mutual love for her family and especially Barry.  He has been gone for so long that there is barely anyone remaining in her life that ever knew him; making his existence in the past that much more unreal. It was with panic last December that I realized that I had lost her mom’s mailing address and phone number and was desperately hoping that I would get her annual Christmas card so I could tell her that my book was going to be published with a dedication in it to Barry that I had put in there more almost 30 years ago.

I fired off a letter to her the next day asking her to call me and that I had something important to tell them. To my relief I got to speak with Ruth on 12/15/08 and let her know that the story I had worked on for so many years was going to be published.  Ruth sounded like her old sweet self but much more frail.  I promised to send her a copy of the first book off the press as soon as I got it.  In early January 2009 I mailed a copy of The Victor to Ruth who was now living with Michele and a few weeks later I got an urgent email from Michele asking me to call because she had lost my phone number.  With dread I called and Michele told me the news which just broke my heart.  Ruth had died about a week earlier and my book had arrived on the day of her funeral.  I couldn’t help but burst into tears.  Ruth Henriot had been like a second mother to me and she had never gotten to see the book dedicated to her long gone son, Barry, who I had loved dearly.

Last August I got to see Michele for perhaps only the third time in my life but it was just like being with family.  We talked for hours and reminnisced.  Michele is the only member left of the Henriot family but like me, we hope to all be reunited again.  This story is my gift to her.

More Than a Memory

The rain came down in heavy drops and in only moments, Michele’s hair and clothes were drenched.  Living in Oregon for years, she never carried an umbrella (only the tourists did) and put up with the constant rain like everyoe else.

Now rivulets of cold rain water were beginning to run down inside her collar and drench her from the inside out. She needed to take cover.  To her right was a revolving door leading into a Starbucks and without a second thought she ducked in for a quick respite and a  white chocolate raspberry latte to warm her up.

The site that greeted her eyes paralyzed and completely disoriented her.  She blinked, rubbed her eyes and shook her head, her mouth gaping as her surroundings refused to change back into reality.  Before her was the living room of her Huntington Beach home the way it looked when she had lived there with her brother, Barry.  Immediately tears sprang into her eyes with the familiar ache that clutched her heart.

“Is that you Michele?” sang a voice from the kitchen.  The beloved voice sent a thrill through her heart and her voice caught in her throat. Had she fallen unconscious? Was she having a dream?   Having received no response, Ruth poked her head through the doorway. “Cat got your tongue?” she grinned at her dumbstruck daughter.

Michele’s mouth moved but no sound would come out as she stared at the face of her dear mother who had passed away just under a year ago.  At that moment a figure walked up behind her and pinched her in the ribs, making her scream. She whirled around and standing there alive and as if he had never aged, was her brother Barry.

He grinned at her and gave her a bear hug but there was no feedback from the hearing aids he used to always wear.  He stepped back and pointed at his head with a lopsided grin. “I hear great now!”

Michele’s eyes traveled hungrily up and down the length of him. Same wavy brown hair, twinkly eyes, mischievous grin, dimples and plaid flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up as if 25 plus years had never passed.  The tears now spilled down her cheeks unabated and a sob of joy caught in her throat. With a look of understanding compassion on his face, Barry enfolded her into his arms and let her sob.  Michele could barely hear the familiar footsteps behind her on the floor and then her mom’s arms were about her.

“Al, just don’t sit there watching the game, get in here!” Ruth yelled.  At that, Michele pulled back and turned around to see her father stride towards them, his arms held out wide. She flew into them, crying even harder.

“There now,” soothed her mom in her wonderful accent. “Do you really want to spend your entire visit with us crying? You’re scaring Sonny!”

“Meooooww!” agreed the gorgeous Himalayan cat, entering the room. This was all just too much!

“I don’t understand!” was all Michele could manage, shaking uncontrollably.  Al, Ruth, Barry and even Sonny all stared at her in sympathy. “Am I dreaming or dead?”

“Neither!” chorused all (except Sonny) in unison. “This is a gift, sis.” Explained Barry gesturing to the family dinner table laden with a Thanksgiving turkey and all the fixings. “The Lord thought you’d enjoy one more day and meal with us all together again.”

Michele clutched at her heart. It was all too much to take in and yet she couldn’t deny it was what she had secretly longed for more often than she could say but there was still something missing.  A lot of “somethings”.  As if on cue, the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it!” cried Barry with a wink in his sister’s direction and bounded over to the door.  He opened it up to reveal Michele’s husband, Dave, and all their kids.

“Uncle Barry!” they all shrieked, not the least bit shocked or bewildered.  Barry hugged and pounded Dave on the back with glee and hugged each of Michele’s kids in turn as if he had known them all his life.  They in turn hugged his neck with equal glee and then everyone circled around the table and grabbed each other’s hands.

Marlayne, Barry + Kitten 1982

“Barry, would you lead us all in thanks to the Lord?” smiled Ruth, winking at Michele.

“I was hoping you’d ask!” Barry grinned. At that everyone bowed their heads as Michele’s beloved brother led them all in a prayer of thanksgiving for a reunited family that was separated only by the very thinnest veil of eternity.

THE END

Henry has been quadriplegic since the age of 14. I wrote this story as a gift to encourage him as he strives to serve the Lord while still enduring tremendous physical & emotional trials.

(Below is Henry’s bio written
in his own hand)

A Gift for Henry…

Henry awakened with a start, his heart pounding and looked around.  For a few seconds all he could do was to stare at the vista which greeted his eyes and then it hit him like a ton a bricks…he was sitting up for the first time by himself since the accident. He opened and shut his eyes slowly several times, the amazing view never changing and then slowly, as if he were afraid he would shatter and break like glass, he bent his neck down and looked at his lower half. Instead of thin, atrophied legs that ignored all of his mind’s commands, there were two tanned and muscular limbs.  Holding his breath…he did something he hadn’t been able to do in decades…he wiggled his toes.

A shout of pure joy issued from his mouth, so loud it even scared himself. “YAHOOOOOO!” Then he did something else he hadn’t done in years…he pinched himself… as hard as he could, right above the hips in the “tickle spot” and practically doubled over with mixed joy and disbelief.

“Vicki!” he shouted, wiggling and wiggling his toes more violently. “Will you look at this? Just look!” There was no answer.  It wasn’t until he found himself standing and then jumping up and down with glee that he really noticed and took stock of his surroundings. The sky was the deepest blue he had ever seen but there was no sun.  Instead an incredibly pure and blazing glow of light originated from everywhere.  In every direction he looked he saw the loveliest terrain he had ever laid eyes on.  Majestic mountains with craggy peaks (but no snow); fields of wildflowers broken only by gurgling brooks which fed into crystal clear lakes; wide open undulating plains of the greenest grass he had ever seen.  No buildings, no bugs (except butterflies), the most delicious smell of orange blossoms permeating the air and a hint of lilting music that seemed to come from everywhere.

“VICKI!” he shouted again, frustrated that his wife was not there to share the experience with him and validate that it was all real.

“She’ll join you later,” responded a deep and profoundly gentle voice. Henry whirled around and instantly fell onto his face upon recognizing who had spoken to him. “Henry, please rise,” said the man, lifting him gently onto his feet. “I want you to enjoy this time I have given you on your feet, not your face.”

At His touch, a surge of strength flowed through Henry’s entire body that was electrifying. He felt like he could run all the way to China and back again and not even get winded.  Jesus smiled a crinkly smile at him and pointed off into the distance. Henry followed with his eyes and saw the most gorgeous tree he had ever laid eyes on.  It was indescribable but even from this distance he could tell it was laden with flowers and fruit; somehow he knew that this is where the lovely perfume was emanating from.

Henry looked back into the face of His blessed Redeemer, his eyes filling with tears and his heart welling with emotion so strong he felt it would burst with joy.  Jesus laid his nail-pierced hand upon his shoulder and Henry felt a thrill pass through him.

“Run, Henry!” Jesus smiled broadly. “Run!” Despite his desire to not leave his Savior’s side for even a moment, it had been as though the words were more of a command than a suggestion.  The next thing Henry knew his legs were pumping, his arms were flailing and he was racing like a cheetah through the fragrant grass towards what he knew was the Tree of Life, closing the distance faster than he dreamed could be possible.  As he ran, tears of joy flew back in the wind – and a howl of laughter and sheer joy erupted from his throat.  He was running. HE WAS RUNNING!!

He exulted in the sheer joy of feeling his once dead limbs alive and thriving again. Oh… if only the dream would never end…if only he would never have to wake up…but wait…he had pinched himself…and it had hurt. What was going on? He came to a stop just before the tree, amazed that he wasn’t even breathing hard.  Maybe he wasn’t dreaming…maybe he was…

“You’re not dead, Henry” whispered the voice of Jesus quietly in his ear as if The Master were standing just behind him.  “And you’re not asleep either.  This is my gift to you for now…unwrap it and take it out whenever you feel the need and know that one day soon, it will be yours to enjoy for eternity with all your loved ones who have trusted in Me.”

Henry hung his head and wept, his shoulders heaving with gratitude. The Lord’s voice interrupted his thoughts again. “I have one more gift for you before you leave…if you’ll accept it…”

“Lord,” sobbed Henry. “It is enough that you suffered, died and rose for me and have allowed me to live a life, though broken physically, that has been abundant for you. I will accept whatever gift you want to give me but what can I do in return for you?”

“You have been giving me the best gift for many years, Henry…You.” Replied Jesus, and suddenly Henry turned around to find Jesus standing before him again only he wasn’t dressed in his “typical” biblical clothes but hip-waders and carrying two fishing rods. “I once told Peter, Andrew, James and John that I would make them fishers of men,” he continued with a broad smile that lit up everything about Him. “But today I think that you and I will just go fish for trout in that stream over there. I can guarantee a good catch but as for you …well today you’ll have to clean and fry them up. Deal?”

Henry’s mouth just hung open and then he bellowed with laughter. “Deal!” he exclaimed.

THE END

Thanksgiving is a great holiday.  It’s the day when we Americans give thanks.  It makes us reflect on the many blessings in our lives.  Some of you might face real tragedy or hardship.  You might be faced with a job loss, foreclosure or even something life threatening like cancer.  You might have to dig very deep to see any blessings in your life, however, make no mistake, there is always something to be thankful about.

I think about that:
I can walk
I have Christ in my life
I have a wonderful family
I’m healthy
I can see
I can hear
I live in a great country
That I have great friends
I’m thankful for our soldiers

1 Thess 5:18 says “give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus”.NIV (read passage on Crosswalk.com)

Having a thankful heart or being happy is not based on our circumstances…it’s a Gift from God if and when we seek him.  He is waiting…

Share with us…what you are thankful for?

If you’re hurting and you need help, call this prayer line 24/7.  You’ll find people who care with a listening ear and a compassionate heard.

May God bless you richly this Thanksgiving!

It was a very windy day in 2001 and I was going paragliding… being 60 years old at the time I was excited about the prospects of flying again.  Six months earlier I had gone to a paragliding school and learned how to take off and land.  It was exciting!  However; this was one of those days that I should have spent some early morning quiet time with the Lord…

I’m sure the Holy Spirit was trying to get my attention that blistery morning with gusts of wind that were very threatening.   My “mind” unfortunately was doing just the opposite!   After a wild takeoff, I pushed back into the ‘cruising’ position and enjoyed quite a ride.  On my way to the target landing things look normal, I could envision where I was to land and I had plenty of time before that point was arriving.  Things were going really good!  As a normal precaution I looked up to check the position of the sail and when I looked down – I hit the GROUND!  OMG! When I recovered a bit the first thing that came out of my mouth was “I AM HEALED BY THE BLOOD OF JESUS – I AM HEALED!”  I WAS REALLY SCARED.

I thank God that Pastor Arland Steen taught me for twenty years that divine healing is one of our rights in Christ.  We learned to claim our healing first and THEN call 911.  The scripture 1^st Peter 2:24 says that I was healed by the stripes of my Lord!  I kept screaming it out as I realized that I could feel my toes move.  I knew that I had survived a very serious crash!  The damage to my spine was considerable.  The prognosis was not good…

During my recovery and still bed ridden a friend called on me and seeing my distress and my depression said “Hank, where is your faith?” I could only answer “I don’t know where my faith is, I only know what my confession” is – that I AM HEALED BY THE STRIPES OF MY LORD JESUS!”  The medication and pain easily confused my mind so I did not have much control of the thoughts coming and going through that brain matter.  I could however; control what came out of my mouth and thereby could control and override what went through that mind of mine!

This constant confession reinforced my faith position of being healed even though I would not see the manifestation for years.  Since my salvation in 1985 I have always believed that my salvation and my healing were both received by me BY FAITH because of God’s Word.  The words that come out of our mouths demonstrate our faith position.

I have always said “tape yourself for 24 hours and then play it back – you will then know what you will receive!”  I may not know many scriptures – but the one I do know I believe without doubt!  My precious ones are; Rom 10:9,10, 1 John 1:9, Gal 6:7, 1 Peter 2:24, Phil 4:19. Even today years after experiencing the manifestation of my healing when I am asked “Hank how are you?” – My answer is ALWAYS “I’m well!”  In Jesus Name.

Failure is something we all face in our lives.  I’ve sure had my share.  I remember in the mid 1990s, I had worked myself all the way from a sales person to Marketing Director to COO of a thriving company – only to discover that I really did not like that position.  So I did something radical.  I decided to quit this very secure job and start my own advertising based business.  It was an original idea in an industry I was very familiar with – a business magazine mailed to local business owners around my community.  A great idea plus my hard work ethic – I was sure would work.  

Both my wife and I put everything we had, financially and emotionally into this idea.  It was very exciting to see how fast we acquired our first (and last) 30 clients!  Within a couple months we had a real magazine!  Clients were getting fantastic results.  There was only one small problem…though clients were excited about the return they were getting (one even said it was “the only advertising that ever worked”), some still had financial problems and couldn’t continue on a consistent basis.  Bottom line – we eventually ran out of money.  Then, on top of having to close down the magazine, we even had to hawk our 8 year old cars just to pay postage for the last mailing!!

I was devastated…my dream had died.  I remember how depressed I was.  I gave it my all and it was not enough.  I had no job, no money, and worst of all – a seriously damaged sense of confidence. 

Maybe, that’s were you are now.  

I had only questions…no answers.  I asked God the usual questions …why?  Why me?  How could you allow me to be so humiliated?  Why did you let this happen?

It took another 2 months for me to hit the real bottom when I had to raid our earthquake kid preparedness kit for quarters…we were that broke.  Until then, I was still holding on to a few shreds of pride.  I didn’t want to let them go, believing that somewhere within myself I could “make it happen.”  Once that last fingernail on the cliff ripped and I totally let go, something amazing happened.  Some of our friends from church prayed for me and I got to the point where I said…”Lord, you are my provider…You are my lord…in You I trust.  Whatever you want to do with me is fine.”  It wasn’t like I didn’t pray before…I did…a lot.  But there is a big difference when you finally completely let go and repent of all anger, unforgiveness, resentment, pride, etc.

A week later, totally out of the blue and not because of anything I did, I received a call from a stranger offering me the best job I’d ever had.  An old friend who I hadn’t talked with in ears referred me.  It was nothing short of a miracle…just the way it happened…it was eerie.

Looking back, I realized that I just had gotten ahead of God…like I do sometime.  Lesson – it’s wise to seek his counsel and wait on the Lord!

I hope my story has given you hope and some direction.  It’s never wrong to seek God, before and or after failure.  He is always ready to respond.  Frankly, I don’t know how people cope without God…I guess that’s why people do drugs, take pills or drink alcohol.  There is no doubt in my mind that God is the better choice…he brings true and lasting healing and recovery from failure to success.