…From my summer journal. Collected 9/18/08
Psalm 61:5 …Thou has given me the heritage of those that fear Thy name.
In June of 2007 I was blessed to have written “It’s Raining Silver” on the occasion of our 25th wedding anniversary. This past year of marriage has brought me to a deeper understanding of what it means to walk life’s path in holy matrimony under the sovereignty of God.
It would not have been my choice to spend our 26th wedding anniversary (June 5, 2008) with my husband unable to celebrate after weeks of serious illness that continued into the summer with pain, fatigue, and exhaustion. In fact, on the anniversary day we would not have yet seen a specialist who could give us more information. We were waiting for the appointment day to arrive. Earlier medical tests and clinical symptoms hinted of a cancer diagnosis and so our hearts were heavy and it was difficult for me to keep my thoughts within the boundaries of God’s care, provision, and promises for the future.
Within this framework I “celebrated” our anniversary alone. Pondering thoughts of what widowhood would look and feel like with seven children who deeply love their father, life came into a sharp focus. And that focus is eternity. In the midst of many heart-severing thoughts it became more clear to me that I have been blessed beyond measure with a husband whose focus is on eternity.
I have seen several women experience the time in their lives when they have become widows. Their concerns have been how to make decisions and what to do about financial provision. As I contemplated thoughts of widowhood I realized that my third and greatest concern would be how to carry a focus on eternity into the fourth generation and fifth generations of our family without my husband leading the way. Because I have been blessed with a spiritual heritage (we are third generation Christians), I have direction and purpose for which I am ever grateful. I know the fervent heart of my husband that matches our heritage. As to how it would play out in future generations, for that I would labor alone if the Lord saw fit to take my husband out of the game.
During this time I have listened to others speak, observing what their priorities are and what is central to their heart. I have taken note of what is considered success and/or what vision means. Some of these things mirror my own thoughts. Some are foreign to me. I have come to conclude that the lack of fervency for the Great Commission is rampant, falling low in priority to an elevated onward march of individual and family agendas. The grips of materialism, self-dependency and individualism consume people and somehow these are equated with God’s will. The focus on personal kingdom building is prevalent and I include myself. Yes, there are places where I would love to be the queen. Fear of the future is rampant among our ranks, causing soldiers to move to the hills and leave the battle. I could list many more things, but suffice it to say that waiting for a cancer diagnosis has brought to the surface of my mind clearly the sad state of affairs in which we find ourselves.
With this sharper eye on eternity I purpose to walk more closely with the Lord for the rest of my life. Psalm 61:8 So will I sing praise unto Thy name forever, that I may daily perform my vows. Neither my husband nor I believe that the present affliction in our lives has been an indication of shrinking from the calling, or stepping backward. Instead, it has been a time to carefully sift through our hearts for any transgressions or disobedience, and it has been a time to set up camp in the scriptures on new territory. We also did not consider my husband’s illness a type of judgment or that he needs to re-order his life as one person has suggested. If we were under judgment and received what we deserve, we would have been wiped off this planet long ago. To say that James and I are anything but spiritually bankrupt and in constant, complete need of God at all times is an atrocity.
I also mention that ours was a small trial compared to deep trials that others are going through, so I do not want to magnify our situation in any way. Hopefully I have kept it in proper perspective and allowed it to do its work in my life. This trial did make me think more deeply, especially when I was alone in the night hours. Here are some of many lessons I recorded, listed randomly …
*** During 2008 I have been challenged as to whether or not my faith is growing as it should be since it has been repeatedly tested. Do I reallytrust in God’s sovereignty? In February our eldest daughter underwent medical testing ruling out cancer under the guiding hand of a plastic surgeon. A month later another daughter was tested internally to rule out cancer. Just a few weeks later our family dog produced a large growth that sure enough was sent off to pathology. The big “C” word seemed to loom before me even before James fell ill. Do I stand on a rockbed of faith or not?
*** It would be impossible to find any words that could describe the love between James and me and how hard this summer has been on our hearts. Each time his giftings and his love for Jesus were expressed to our family and to others, I reminded God that it would be a tragic mistake to remove him from earth at this time, as if I have anything to do with the days ordained to my husband or as if God needed any of us to accomplish His purposes. Each time I watched my husband deal with physical affliction, my heart fell. There have been many nights where sleep evaded me but tears did not. Or a cold, tear-less reality of staring off into the darkness of the night. Memories of my father’s departure from this earth flooded me.
*** Each month resources and strength have dwindled in our home and yet these very difficulties are what have been drawing me to my everlasting Father, pouring out my heart to Him and committing myself to Psalm 61:8. June, July and August were particularly difficult as my son and I cared for our 3 acres of land and tackled many projects that were frequently beyond our collective strength. Lifting 100 pound equipment. Emptying an outbuilding to eliminate rodents and wasps. Poison ivy reducing the work force to myself while my son recovered. Dealing with several rats. Untangling several hundred feet of hose. Mowing, mowing, mowing. Lifting wood. Weed whacking. Broken lawn mower. Emptying the garage. Moving freezers. Loading heavy bags of mulch and sand into the van. Unloading them. Poison ivy again. Fire ants. In the heat of the Texas summer my son and I worked, he with young strength not fully budded and I with a failing back. The injuries sustained from these are reminders to this very moment that we took each summer day one at a time and accomplished what we could under the grace of God. And we did this while my daughter’s surgery and recovery ran concurrently, upsetting the balance and functioning of our home even more. My son and I found times to smile at each other, wipe the sweat from our brow, and share a Sonic slushie at the end of our labors while on our way to fill the gas cans for the next round of yard work.
*** I have never experienced loneliness like the past few months. Particularly the nights that James came home, feet dragging over the carpet, and he went to bed before supper. Now I know why the Psalms were written.
*** I learned each day to be real. No glossy faces. No glamour home schooling. No perfect answers. No rehearsed answers. Forget all the perfect blogs. I found God in the middle of the reality of trial and not in the face of a slick exterior image. I realized that too often we live with a veneer over who we really are. In contrast to this, the people whose stories are told in the Bible have become my companions and their God has become my God. They get caught in sins and difficulties, meet God, repent, and then they remain in a state of humility over their inadequacy before God. This is why they ultimately are successful. The score becomes Man Zero, God Everything. And to think that they go on written record for the remainder of human history for their failures. God’s written record. Recently I read an editorial by a woman whose husband has a Grade IV glioblastoma inoperable brain tumor in his brain stem and has been given 120 days to live. I found her article refreshing as she said, “With our current situation, perceived perfection is a low priority.” (Tyra Damm in the Dallas Morning News) It is so easy to become smug in our accomplishments, but when our lives spin out of control when we are ambushed by a trial, all the glamour-ism gets washed down the drain. What a great place to be at. I am not a brochure.
*** I do not know what the future holds, but I do know Who holds the future. I can’t say that I will ever gladly welcome the path of widowhood, should the Lord call upon me to step on its path. I do know, though, that I must trust my sovereign God and be thankful that I already know the final chapter of my life …. Heaven up ahead. It’s just that I have to live through the middle of my story which can be overwhelmingly difficult at times. And that’s OK.
*** Sins of neglect run rampant in my heart. May I increase in my love for God with all my heart, soul, mind, and strength.
*** Trials do not stop everyday life. We did not get a break from everyday needs plus James became needy in multiple ways and Karen followed suit with her foot surgery. The grocery bill and medical costs increased exponentially. More time was needed to accommodate caring for the ill. Resources were channeled differently. Relational needs were put on hold. At the same time, my son still needed to try on twenty pairs of shoes to find a sneaker that fit and the mending pile grew and a rainstorm tore the gutters off the back porch awning. Bicycles broke one by one. A rat took up residence in the shed along with a wasp nest. Life marched on. In the past I have endeavored to help people in trial – now I know a little more of how to do that.
*** I learned that sometimes it’s better to throw it away than keep it and repair it and fiddle with it. This includes thoughts, ideas, and social pressures and then also damaged yard equipment, broken bikes, unfinished crafts, and anything else that is clogging up the wheel. I learned to throw away even when I could not afford to replace it or couldn’t figure out what to replace it with. I was already a pretty good thower-awayer. Now I am proficient, perhaps overly proficient.
*** Prayer. I know a little more about how to pray for people. Especially on test result days. This week as I grocery shopped, waiting for test results that would send us into oncology or into health, it was as if I was not even in the store as I pulled items off the shelves. The store felt like an un-reality. Like I was watching myself go through the movements as if I was in a movie. Returning home I felt numb waiting for James to report the test results. It was not that God did not already know – it was that I did not know. Moving from ignorance to knowledge is well, I can’t find the words.
*** Forgive others. So many times people don’t understand and that’s OK. Don’t get angry with them. They just don’t get it. Don’t wait for “their turn” to deal with a trial. Hope that they will “get it” without a trial.
*** I did not learn all the lessons I should have, nor have I kept everything I learned.
*** To James: You are the music of my life. That, I could write about forever.
Children of the Heavenly Father
By Carolina V.S. Berg
Typically sung to a Swedish Melody
Children of the heavenly Father safely in His bosom gather;
Nestling bird nor star in heaven such a refuge e’er was given.
God His own doth tend and nourish, in His holy courts they flourish.
From all evil things He spares them, in His mighty arms He bears them.
Neither life nor death shall ever from the Lord His children sever;
Unto them His grace He showeth, and their sorrows all He knoweth.
Though He giveth or He taketh, God His children ne’er forsaketh,
His the loving purpose solely, to preserve them pure and holy.
