When The Time to Move Finally Comes

Life in this corner of Blue Springs will change in a big way today. I've debated whether to share this or not. Frankly, I'd rather hold my grief close, so that no one else can touch it. 

As a person who is mostly an introvert, I've sometimes found it difficult to tolerate this job God has given me of living my faith out loud. I don't always feel that way, of course. Right now, however, this "letting people in so they can see how it's done" is a terribly painful, frightening work. 

I've chosen to trust you with our pain again. Handle it well, please, just as you've done before. 

Over the last few weeks, Sam has grown steadily weaker. He's stared death in the face and found it a daunting job. This last bit of life is not for the faint of heart. It's the kind of work that can't be done alone, not easily. My phone calls and visits are no longer enough.

Yesterday, Sam and I had a long talk. It was hard for both of us. Finally, we came to the decision we'd been skirting for a while. Today, Sam will say goodbye to his home of 57 years and move to my house. We'll face this next hard part of his journey together.

Last night, I emailed my pastor, my mission director, my fellow home office staffers, and texted a few friends and family to let them know. I cried a bucketful because, sometimes, tears need to flow. Since I texted and emailed through a veil of tears, I'm not sure who knows and who doesn't. 

If you feel I should have let you know and I didn't, please forgive this impersonal notification. I did the very best I could. 

When I was done with tears, I began the task of turning my dining room into a hospice room. It was well after midnight when I crawled into bed, but the furniture was moved and relocated, a place for the hospital bed was open, plugs for the oxygen were ready. Even my refrigerator was ready to accommodate Sam's protein drinks and banana pudding. 

Today, hospice will send a hospital bed and over-bed table. Someone will come to help me move the oxygen equipment. We've already moved his valuables, but I'll finish packing Sam up and, when the oxygen is moved, we'll move him, too. 

If it sounds like we're waiting for death, we're not. I'll work from home as much as possible. For now, Sam will be by my side. He'll be able to sit on the patio and look at the lake, enjoy the screened porch, snuggle with the Wonder Dogs. 

We know it's going to be an adjustment for both of us. We realize it might be hard. We're both used to that. We've done hard before. 

This morning, I opened my Bible to Jeremiah 29:11. It's my life verse and, as usual, I found considerable comfort there. In case you don't know the context, the verse is part of a letter written by Jeremiah to the exiles in Babylon. 

The people of Judah were faithless and, after repeated warnings, God allowed them to be taken captive by Nebuchadnezzar. Of course, they were frantic and grief-stricken. Jeremiah had a word from God for them that brings me comfort, even though my situation is not the same. (Leanna paraphrase coming up.)

"Keep living, My children. I know where you are. I sent you there for a reason. Bless the place where you live with your prayers. Seek its welfare. In seventy years, I'll bring you home. It's longer than you want, but I have a reason, even for the length of stay. Before I'm done, you'll seek Me with all your heart, and you'll find Me. Do what I say, and I'll restore in ways you can't yet imagine."

Those words brought great comfort to the people. They grieved the stay but welcomed the promise. 

In a way, that's where Sam and I are. We grieve the need for the stay, but we welcome the promise that, at the appointed time, Sam's Heavenly Father will call him home. We're trusting this is part of God's plan for us. It's for a specified period of time that only God knows. He'll be with us in it, so we'll see His hand all along the way.

If you've visited Sam at his house, you'll be welcome at mine.  

I don't know what kind of help we'll need along the way, but I expect we'll figure it out soon. What I know for sure is that we need your prayers more than ever today, and in the coming days, as well. 

May God bless you for the love you've shown Sam over the years, and the love you've shown me, as well.

"For I know the plans that i have for you," declares the Lord, "plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope." Jeremiah 29:11
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In case you missed it, here's the link to yesterday's post: Finding Hidden Treasure in a Stack of Journals

If you feel led to partner with this ministry (US, Jordan, the digital world), here's the link to give your tax-deductible donations: Global Outreach Acct 4841 

Or you can mail your check or money order to: Global Outreach/ PO Box 1, Tupelo MS 38802. Be sure to put Account 4841 in the "for" line

#sam

Are We Petrified of the Petrifying Process?

I have become a Grandmother to five in two years. Just like that, I’m a member of a subculture old enough to see their own birth their own.  

No words can describe the overwhelming feelings of love that rose up inside of me when I saw my sons holding their very own children. But with the privilege of sharing in the lives of these most precious ones comes the realization that time is moving on, and the ride is getting faster and faster.   

Our culture constantly doles out advice on how to stay younger-looking; how to defy the inevitable, and we so often buy in. We’re provided with substances for eyes, chins, hands, elbows, feet, that will take off years.  

Are we totally petrified of the petrifying process?  

Yes, I’m shocked as I glance at the keyboard and see my mom’s brown-spotted hands with a little arthritis curving the fingers.  When I’ve spent time on the floor playing with my grandson and it takes me a minute to stand and stretch out the knee.  Even though the ride is going faster, the passenger is slowing down!   

So, how do I finish the ride?  

Do I slam on the brakes forcefully, fighting all the way?  Do I jump ship?  Do I throw it in reverse and try to turn back the hands of time?  Do I stare at the in-flight movie, slipping into a mindless haze?   Or do I embrace the years God has given me, recognize and accept the differences in being 30 and 60, and look forward, with great anticipation, to the rest of the journey with Him leading me every step of the way?

The Scriptures aren’t silent on this aging process.  

Psalm 71:18 states “Even when I am old and gray, do not forsake me, my God, till I declare your power to the next generation, your mighty acts to all who are to come.”  

With this plea for God to be with me, to favor and uphold me comes a challenge – to declare His works to the next generation!  

My work is not done.  I have news to share.  

As long as I am breathing, my life is to exude the power and mighty acts of God to anyone who is paying attention.  It may be in the singing of “Jesus Loves Me” to the tiniest grandchild; in teaching Bible stories to four-year-olds in my Sunday School class; in traveling the globe to serve and share Christ as He gives me the opportunity; to fervently pray for the harvest of seeds planted by countless missionaries.

I have no idea how this ride will turn out, how far the distance will be, how bumpy the road may get or how high the waves may rise.  But I do know that as long as this heart is beating, my desire is to seek and to serve the One who handed me the ticket with His nail-scarred hand; the ticket stamped “Grace.”

May we all finish strong for His glory.

By Guest Blogger Elizabeth Rhea 

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Elizabeth Rhea is a dear friend, lover of all, kind beyond words, and looks as much like Jesus as anyone I know. Her words are only a tiny portion of her beautiful heart and life. Be sure to share some encouragement with her. It's her first guest blog, but I'm hoping it won't be her last. LLH
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Please like and share to extend our digital reach. 

In case you missed yesterday's post, here's the link:When Forgiveness Equal Forgetting, Restoration Can Come 

If you feel led to partner with this ministry (US, Jordan, the digital world), here's the link to give your tax-deductible donations: Global Outreach Acct 4841 

Or you can mail your check or money order to: Global Outreach/ PO Box 1, Tupelo MS 38802. Be sure to put Account 4841 in the "for" line.

Arcus Senilis and pressing on

"No one, after lighting a lamp, puts it away in a cellar nor under a basket, but on the lampstand, so that those who enter may see the light. The eye is the lamp of your body; when your eye is clear, your whole body also is full of light; but when it is bad, your body also is full of darkness. Then watch out that the light in you is not darkness. If therefore your whole body is full of light, with no dark part in it, it will be wholly illumined, as when the lamp illumines you with its rays." (Luke 11:33-36 NASB)

We are currently taking a detour through a few eye diseases to help us understand the concept of "clear eye" and to make spiritual applications. We have previously considered Macular Degeneration, Glaucoma, Detached Retina, Cataracts, Diabetic Retinopathy, Diabetic Retinopathy #2, and Diabetic Retinopathy #3. You can click on the links to see those.

Our topic today is not a disease at all. Arcus Senilis is a white ring that forms at the outer edge of the cornea and is due to lipid deposits in the deep tissue. When seen in younger people, it can indicate a high cholesterol. In older people, it is considered a change of aging. 

When  I look at the white ring beginning at the outer edge of my own cornea, I am tempted to be dismayed. How can this be? I still feel 25 and I do not welcome signs of aging. That tiny sliver of white, however, is an inescapable reminder that I am growing older and am officially a "senior citizen." I am closer to eternity than I have ever been.

I haven't always lived with eternity in view, but it is on my mind these days. Just yesterday, my friend told me about her son's lifelong friend who has terminal cancer and is now on hospice. He is just a few years old than my own son. I suspect eternity is on his mind, too.

Perhaps we should all live with our eyes focused on eternity. If we remembered our eternal destination, we might be able to keep our present in perspective. The riches of this world are nothing more than dirt and stone in eternity, where gold is used to pave the streets. 

If we kept heaven in the foreground of our minds, would we make better choices in relationships? In priorities? I think we might. One day, we will answer for our choices, our priorities. As the time for giving answers draws nearer, I want to be prepared. It is only the blood of Jesus that cleanses us and makes us fit for heaven, but we will give an account of how we lived our lives. 

Every day is a gift, for we are not promised length of days. Each one that passes brings us closer to the time when we will see our Lord face to face. When the moment comes to cast our crowns at His feet, I want to have lived in such a way that I actually have a crown to cast. When we give account of our lives, I want my life to have borne fruit to give Him who gave His life for me.

We are closer to meeting Jesus face to face than we have ever been, no matter our age. Let us live our lives as those who have been redeemed, our eyes fixed on the final destination, our hearts centered on Christ. 

Not that I have already obtained it or have already become perfect, but I press on so that I may lay hold of that for which also I was laid hold of by Christ Jesus. Brethren, I do not regard myself as having laid hold of it yet; but one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and reaching forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 3:12-14 NASB)