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Faith in the Impossible, Part I

5/25/2013

"Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for You are with me..."
Psalm 23:4

                All David could do was pray. He and Elena had just sat in yet another doctor’s office and the man who examined their unborn child in the ultrasound told them the same thing. The baby wouldn’t live. She had no skull forming. She was too tiny. A dozen different things were wrong with her little body. If Elena even carried her to term she would live for only seconds.

                God, have mercy, David prayed. God, please, save our baby. Give her chance. If the doctors were right, David wouldn’t even get a chance to hold her and kiss her before she passed away and the truth was tearing his heart out.

                He hadn’t even been aware of how strong his love was for his unborn child, his wife that carried her, and his daughter who waited anxiously to become a sister. But when he had first heard those dreaded words it had felt like the world was crashing down around him. “She isn’t developing normally. There is a problem with her skull.” He had swallowed and stared, terrified, at the tiny baby on the screen.

                That had been the moment that turned his life around. He dropped everything that Sunday and took his family to church. Friends called him over for another wild party but he stayed home and wrapped his arms around his wife. He didn’t want to drink. He didn’t want to fool around.

                They got better insurance and started calling other doctors. They drove for hours to bigger cities with high-tech ultrasound machines and specialists, but the diagnosis became bleaker as they got closer to the day that Elena would deliver their child. They didn’t know how to talk about it with their daughter, Diana, but they knew she sensed the worry.

                It was only at church or when David was praying that he had ease from the anxiety and fear. He could feel God reach out with strong hands and wrap him in his peace. If it hadn’t been for that, David might have gone crazy.
                The day came. Elena went into labor a month early. David and his family didn’t stop praying for second. And, though they prayed for God’s mercy, they also prayed for strength to be able to hold themselves together if they lost their baby.

                There were many doctors and nurses there to battle to keep her alive. The delivery room was so crowded that David couldn’t stay. He held his wife close for a few seconds and told her, “I love you. It is going to be ok.” As he left his eyes darted to the incubator which stood in anticipation for their baby. In the waiting room he held Diana’s hand and prayed. It felt like time stopped and the only things left were his thoughts as he begged God to be with his wife and their baby. God, help us.

                A nurse came walking swiftly towards him. David swallowed and stood up. She briskly addressed him, “Are you the father? You need to come now.”

                “What happened? Is the baby alive? Is Elena ok?”

                “Just wait, we are going to her now.”

                The nurse wouldn’t answer anymore questions. When David entered the room the first thing he saw was Elena. She was crying, sobbing, and her mother was holding her. David felt like he just knew it then. They had lost her. The baby hadn’t survived.

                “What happened?” He asked Elena, tears making his voice come out hoarse and forced. “Is she alive?”

                Then, to his disbelief, Elena nodded and gestured to the incubator. There, underneath the plastic, being prodded and examined was a newborn baby girl. She was crying and the doctors were exclaiming in disbelief, “Her skull appears to be fully formed.” “Those lungs are healthy enough. Hear how she is crying?”

                Finally, another doctor reached in the incubator and lifted their girl out. He placed her in their arms and said, “She doesn’t need that incubator. She needs your love.” She quieted as they held her.   David could feel it then, God peace and goodness reaching out to them and giving them that miracle. They were holding their baby girl.

                As the doctor wrote something out on the chart he remarked, “You need to hold her close now. She won’t live long. Minutes. Maybe hours.”

                But, though those words hurt, David could only thank God for letting them have that moment. “What do we name her?” Elena asked through happy tears.

                David smiled, “Liliana.”

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Rewarding Rest

5/16/2013

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"Remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy. Six days you shall labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is a sabbath to the Lord your God. On it you shall not do any work, neither you, nor your son or daughter, nor your male or female servant, nor your animals, nor any foreigner residing in your towns. For in six days the Lord made the heavens and the earth, the sea, and all that is in them, but he rested on the seventh day. Therefore the Lord blessed the Sabbath day and made it holy." Exodus 20:8-11

              My days as a teacher were bursting at the seams. I rose early in the mornings wanting at least an hour in the classroom before the students arrived. Every spare second was full as I tried to get lesson plans written and little activities prepped. When the bell rang at the end of school it seemed the work had just begun with papers to grade and meetings to go to.

                I loved it. But my energy and enthusiasm for the job always began to wane before I even hit mid-semester. I took my work home, squeezing hours of curriculum development and parent communication between washing dishes, cooking, and trying to keep my home looking decent.

                And God, well, I put Him neatly on a shelf. He was there on my commuting drives if my thoughts weren’t on other things.   I tried to get into daily devotionals but my full mind and tired body made the task seem more like a chore than a time full of reflection and growth.

                One Monday morning I turned on a Christian radio station as I drove to work. I caught the tail end of sermon and heard a woman talk about following the Ten Commandments. One she focused on was “Remember the Sabbath and keep it holy.” I thought back on how I had just spent my Sunday and immediately felt uneasy. I had slept in, a little, and then cooked breakfast. While my husband had done some lawn work I had finished up grading. We had went to lunch with friends and I hadn’t been able to enjoy it because I had kept think of the housework left on my to-do list and worrying about the math lessons that I hadn’t reviewed yet. We got home later than expected and I had stressed myself out so much I was rude to my husband. When he had encouraged me to give things a break and relax, I almost jumped down his throat.

                Who had time for a Holy day? But even as I argued it out in my head I felt distinctly like I was doing something very wrong.

                Now, I’m a woman who doesn’t like to break rules and I’ve tried to be a good Christian most my life. The fact that I was blatantly disregarding one of the Ten Commandments didn’t sit well with me at all. So, by the middle of the week I had decided that I would do it. I would do no work on Sunday—no to-do lists, no schedules. And I would make it to church.

                It was one of the toughest things I had done in a long time. Saturday night I was working hard on my school tasks and when midnight rolled in I packed it all up in my bag to take to work on Monday. I looked around at the house and prayed nobody would come by for a visit and then got into bed. When morning came I didn’t make a grand breakfast but went out and grabbed donuts. I couldn’t remember the last time I had done that. Me and my husband enjoyed them with our coffee as we watched the morning news and then we went to church. The sermon was beautiful and I remembered how much I always loved the music in churches. Afterwards, our lunch date with our friends was full of laughter. I called my parents when we got back and talked for a long while without begging off after a half-hour because I was too busy. Then, I grabbed my husband and snuggled with him on the couch while we watched a movie. Before I went to bed that night I took out my daily devotional and marveled at the lessons taught there.

                Monday morning greeted me with hope and brightness. I went to work full of energy and ideas and growing sense of peace, a reminder that God’s strength goes with me wherever I am. God must have watched over me. There wasn’t a thing that was done late and I was excited for the work week ahead of me. Since then I’ve always remembered to have faith in God’s promises. If we do his commandments and are faithful to his words then we will be blessed.

                And we are, we are truly blessed.

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.
John 14:27

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Motherhood

5/11/2013

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Motherhood. Motherhood is full of miracles. The love of a mother shocks us by its intensity. Some of us knew this already. Some of us had baby-cravings for ages, planning, hoping and praying for that special day when we would get to hold our child in our arms. But just how strong it is can still be a surprise. It is stunning how much love we have for a tiny person we just met and would be willing to do anything for them—hurt, sacrifice, and even die for them.

But mothers aren’t always made in the delivery room. I’ve seen that love in a foster-mother’s eyes as she talked about her fears and hopes for a teenage boy. Someone she had only known for a few months and yet she opened her home and heart to him, wanting for him to have the best chance in life.

I’ve seen a mother cuddle her adopted little toddler with almond eyes and olive skin and there was no question how far she would go to protect and fight to make sure that child always knew her love.

Yes, that love is amazing. Then consider the way a mother observes and marvels at her child. She knows the fears, the personality quirks, and she can tell you what their favorite color is and how they love to watch ants build homes. When the world threatens to put their child’s hopes into a box and quietly close the lid, she will tear it all down and battle to give them a future.

I also believe that motherhood is a daily miracle. The amount of patience, guidance, and tenderness that flows through me as I work to create a loving home for my daughter can only come from the Holy Spirit. Billy Graham wrote, “Only God Himself fully appreciates the influence of a Christian mother in the molding of character in her children.” God knows the magnitude of our job raising a child in this world and He is there, by our side, as we work to give our sons and daughters a good life.

Thank you, God, for our mothers and for being there with them as they guide children through the growing up into adults that might come to know You.

May your day be truly blessed. Happy Mother’s Day!

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Gifts from Above

5/10/2013

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Every month that dreaded envelope came. Every month Katherine opened it, her little nightmare black and white on business paper—a bill for overdue payments on Jericho’s birth. Jericho was the fourth and last baby. Thank goodness! But they hadn’t saved up enough to pay for everything. How would they pay it now? Katherine had no idea. She was constantly going to their old spiral notebook, breaking out a new page and twisting their budget this way and that, trying to find a way to come up with even ten dollars, but it was embarrassingly impossible. Every month the necessities of a growing family needed to be met and she simply thankful that each night everyone went to bed fed.

Katherine took a ragged breath and opened the envelope.   Three hundred sixty-five dollars. How close were they to having the debt collectors start calling? So many people would laugh at the pitiful amount—nearly pocket change, but for her and Gabe the balance was scary. The spiral notebook came out and Katherine tried dearly for a way to scrounge up some of the money. Besides the normal bills they had to pay gas for Gabe to get to work and back, groceries for meals, and then both the older kids needed shoes. Katherine looked at the two pairs of tiny sneakers near the door and tears filled her eyes—you could see little holes around the toes and the Velcro on one no longer worked.

God! We really need you. You said you clothe the lilies of the field and feed the swallows.   We look to you and know you will provide for us too. Help me know if I am doing right with the material gifts of money you give us each month. What do I do about the doctor bills? They scare me, God.

Katherine budgeted in the money to buy shoes and saw that there was nothing left… again. Jericho was now five months old. They hadn’t been able to pay anything after the first month. Surely the debt collectors would call soon.

For days the worry hung on her head and she prayed about it fervently. She hated the unease, the worry, and kept reminding herself that God would provide. He always provided. When her and Gabe had decided to have children and for her not to work they had agreed to trust God to get them through it.

About a week after the last envelope came, Katherine had her brood outside enjoying the last of the Spring sun. The older one toddled and explored. Jericho giggled and cooed in her arms. Then, a strange voice called out.

“Hola! Hola! Como estas? Hola!” Katherine nearly jumped out of her own skin and wildly looked around. Was that Spanish? They were alone on the ranch, weren’t they?

“Hola! Hola!”

It was coming from the trees. Oh, Lord! There was a man hidden in the trees!

Katherine wildly started ushering her little brood inside. She placed her sleeping Jericho in his crib and rounded up the two smaller toddlers, Julie though was still outside and when she came to snatch her up the girl was pointing happily to some branches.

“Look, Mom! Bird! Bird talk!”

Katherine paused and followed the direction of the soft fingers and then uttered a soft, “Oh.”

There in the elm tree branches was a huge bird. Its exotic feathers and large curved beaks looked amazingly out of place with the desert background. He continued to flap his fingers and call out in Spanish, words she didn’t understand. He looked at her and Julie like he expected them to do something.

They lived hours from a town and she didn’t know anyone who kept birds on the ranches around them. How would she contact the owner? Where would she start? There were several small towns, all hours away.

“Go inside, Julie.” The little girl complied though she would have rather stayed and looked at the bird. Katherine juggled the options in her brain and finally decided on laying out pieces of whole corn they had in the pantry. She didn’t have to wait long, the poor bird came hungrily down and Katherine covered him with a large box from the garage.   She called a pet shop in the closest town.

“Hello. I found a parrot, I think, out here on the ranch. I don’t know where it came from or what to do with it.”

“A parrot?”

Katherine explained what he looked like and how he acted. She asked if they sold them or might know the owner. She called pounds and other shops as well and they all told her the same thing—no one had come looking for a parrot that was lost and they had no idea who would own it. It seemed the bird had simply appeared from nowhere.

As she dialed the last pet shop in a hundred-mile radius, she prayed. God, I don’t know what to do with this poor guy. I can’t take care of him. What do I do with him?

The last pet shop said the same as the ones before, but as she was about to hang up the man on the line hesitated and then asked, “Ma’am, are you interested in selling him?”

Katherine didn’t know. It wasn’t hers, but she couldn’t keep him. She didn’t know how and she couldn’t find his owners. “I guess I could. How much would you take for him?”

The man hesitated again and then asked, “How much do you want?”

“Three hundred and sixty five dollars.” Katherine said it and then wanted to laugh at herself. Who was she kidding?

“Great! When can you bring him over?” Her jaw should have dropped to the floor. But a strange sense of peace came over her.

“Tomorrow? Saturday?” The man agreed and the next day she proudly took a three hundred sixty-five dollar money order to the county Memorial Hospital. Balance paid.

Katherine thought about it later and laughed. God answered prayers in the strangest ways sometimes.

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Hannah's Angel

5/1/2013

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                Hannah flinched every time a sound drifted her way from the cabin. Birds tormented her the most. When their throats warbled into a song she could feel her heart grip her and then sigh with relief when she realized it was only a robin or blackbird or some other flighted creature. Those birds reminded her of her nightmare, as did the moaning of the trees during the night. The sun shone bright and merrily today and she took no joy in it. Her baby was dying.

                The last of the wash was in the bin and Hannah hurried over to the twine stretched between the old trees. As she shook out the little white diapers and Henry’s large work shirts her mind twisted and stretched its usual course, trying to find its way out her tortured maze.

                She should take little Lovely to the doctor no matter how much money it costed. Henry would curse her and be angry. He would. Would he beat her? She would take it. Wasn’t it worth it to have her child? Lovely grew weaker daily though she couldn’t tell why. All the old remedies and plants had no effect on the little child. Only six months old. She should be making little babbling noises and rolling about on the floor with her toys these days, but she did nothing except her pitiful crying that made Hannah’a heart die as they increased in sounds of pain and baby’s body grew thinner. She’d heard the sounds before--three other times. The last time her little boy had made it to only four months.

                Hannah wanted to pray, to reach out and ask God for help, but she felt worthless. She was weak. If she had stood up to Henry her babies would be alive. A better mother would have swallowed her fear and taken her babies to get help. But she hadn't. Now Lovely was dying and she had still done nothing. Hannah shook her head as she hung the next shirt out and pertly clipped it to the twine. Her heart was only full of anger when she thought of each baby she had carried in her belly, full of hope for their future and then had to watch them be buried away in their silent graves. Her eyes shifted to the three little crosses. That was her fault. She had no right to ask God for anything. Perhaps he had cursed her babies as well for her laziness and fear.

                The wind gusted up and the laundry floated upwards and brushed Hannah’s cheeks. She hadn’t noticed her own tears until that moment but the wet clothes seemed to lift and gently wipe them away. It was at that moment that a bird lifted its voice, sweetly and swiftly in the air. It drew her eyes to the cabin, her whole being listening for another, more desperate cry.

                Hannah’s scream caught in her throat. A winged creature, massive and brilliant like the white of the sun was landing on the rafters. As she stared at him she was thrown into an expanse of beauty that no mortal meets without bowing to a great Truth. An angel.

                An angel. It was there for only a moment or so, though the world stopped around it and the birds grew quiet and the wind stilled. Then he lifted his great wings and in a silent flight left again.

                In his wake Hannah knew. Her throat choked with a sob and she dropped the rest of the sodden clothes to be soiled on the ground, sprinting to the cabin. The air that greeted her as she opened the door was quiet. She was at Lovely’s cradle in moments and took up the lifeless little body into her arms.

                It was the same scene--she, standing by the cradle, holding a dead child still warm from a life that had been unfairly shortened. Each time before the sobs that wracked her had gripped her in the pain of grief so completely she hadn’t been able to breathe and she had endured it alone. But this time the tears fell gently. Hannah brushed a sun-worn cheek against Lovely’s delicate skin and her sad heart was struck with wonder. Peace filled her and tempered the sadness. Had God heard her tormented thoughts? Her little Lovely had been so tiny, so unknown to the world, a child known only by her yet when her health waned God sent a mighty angel to come gather Lovely’s soul.

                She pressed the little body close to her and for the first time in a very long time, Hannah let herself be held in God’s presence.   And she prayed.

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Miracles Happen Everyday

Faith in the Impossible, Part I

Rewarding Rest

Motherhood

Gifts from Above

Hannah's Angel

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