Happy New Year

Week of December 30

Normally when my car is unlocked the trunk is unlocked but now the car is unlocked and I can’t get the trunk open even with a key. The garage owner tries several times-no go. “Take it to a locksmith,” he says.

The next morning I notice a lone key on the key rack. I try it. The trunk opens.



For most of my life I was trying the wrong keys to open the meaning of my life. Then I found the one key that stands alone. Who holds the key to your life?


“I am the way, the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me." (John 14:6)

A Christmas Eve Blessing

December 24

 

It is Christmas Eve and we are to give the “moment of sharing”  at First Church of Christ in Wethersfield, Ct. Joy has a bad case of laryngitis. We pray hard.

At the 5:30 service she is barely audible.  We pay harder.

 By the 7:30 her voice is a little louder. We give thanks and ask for continued strength.

At the 9:30 service her voice is stronger.We praise the Lord for His faithfulness.

At midnight she sounds like herself. I share wit h that congregation how the Lord has been answering our prayers this evening. There is applause for God.

 

Driving home Joy turns  to speak. Her voice is completely gone. It doesn’t return for two days.

 

"With men this is impossible but with God all things are possible." (Matthew 19:26)

Away from home at Christmas

Week of December 23

My first Christmas away from my home was courtesy of the U.S. Army. I was stationed in the Panama Canal Zone back when we had a troop presence there.

It was hot and plastic santas and cardboard snowmen didn't cut it for me who was use to a celebrating Christmas in New England. I was having a real pity party for myself. I even scoffed at some enterpizing soldiers who had parked a tank behind eight jeeps  harnessed together by a string of ammo belts. There was even a stuffed santa waving from the tank turret. Bar Humbug. This was a far cry from the Currier and Ives scenes of snow,sleighs and evergreens.

Despite my sullen mood I did attend a service in thebase chapel Christmas Eve. It was cool inside and the reading of familiar scripture and the singing of traditional carols was comforting. When I exited the chapel it was dark and overhead the stars were bright. Then it hit me. The first Christmas was held in a desert.

I don't recall what the sermon was that evening but for me the message was strikingly clear.

"Behold I bring you good tidings of great joy, which will be to all the people. For there is born to you this day  in the City of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord." (Luke 2:11)

Trying to get Home for Christmas

Week of December 17

I was looking forward to spending Christmas with my family. I had a break in my residency in clinical pastoral education at Walter Reed Army Medical Center in Washington D.C.,which meant I could spend two weeks in suynny Phoenix. But getting home was going to be difficult with inclement weather interupting air travel.

When I arrived at the airport, I found my flight had been canceled. Likehundreds of others,I waited in line for help getting out of Washington. My hope faded when the agent behind the counted looked like a high school student filling in as a part-time clerk during his holiday break.

When I explained my situation, he quickly suggested an alternate route. He told me there was a flight ready to go to Pittburgh. From there I could take a flight going to Los Angeles. He explained the LA flight would have to refuel in Phoenix due to headwinds and I could get off the plane there. My instructions were to tell the crew when boarding in Pittsburgh I wasa the one to be let off in Phoenix. Anything that would get me out of Washington was worth a try, so Pittsburgh it was.

I explained my sistuation to the flight attendant in Pittsburgh. She said she would let the crew know but told me this was a direct flight to LA. I took my seat. When we were almost ready for takeoff, the captain announced over the PA, "Would the guy who thinkshe is going to Phoenix please come forward."

All eyes were on me as I walked to the front of the plane. Everyone has a good laugh at my expense. The crew was adamant: They were not stopping in Phoenix but I could go to LA and then board another flight to Phoenix. I agreed to do that and again took my seat.

Everyone settled down for a quiet late evening flight. Well into the night, the captain came on the PA with an apology for disturbing everyone's sleep. He announced he had good news for one passenger and bad news for everybody else. He said fuel was low because of headwinds, so we were stopping in Phoenix to refuel. I wanted to gloat but held it to a grin. We parked out on the tarmac and the rear stair was lowered and I was taken to the terminal by a service truck.

I've never found a logical explanation for how the young counter peron in Washington knew the plane would have to refuel when the flight crew was certain it would not. That leaves the illogical, the mysterious. It was Christmas. Was he an angel. I'll never know.

Herald Knighton
Slidell La.

"Give Me a Sign"

Week of December 9

“Some of you are feeling pretty low right now but believe me you will feel a lot better in six weeks.”

 

I heard him loud and clear. I wanted this six-week Divorce Recovery Workshop at my church to be over now so I could feel better. The instructor was right about one thing. I was feeling lower than a reptile slithering in the mud. I hoped he was right about feeling better in six weeks. All I could do now was hold onto that hope.

 

My marriage of seven years wasn’t officially over yet but it had ended a long time ago. Drugs and alcohol had taken their toll. I had been the one to sober up first but all I got for my effort was more verbal abuse from a husband that blamed everything on me,. He continued to medicate himself while I felt a constant ache of loneliness and the pain from the yelling and nightly name calling. There seemed to be no end. Somebody had to end this madness. I moved out and filed for divorce.

 

I told all this to my Divorce Recovery small group. Each person in the group got to share their situation. We all listened to each other with compassion. I felt particularly sorry for the gals with young children. At least I didn’t have that problem. A childhood disease had left me barren. I didn’t think I could ever feel good about that but I was thankful now that I didn’t have to go through this with a child too.

 

The group and our facilitator became my support base for the next several weeks. We helped each other deal with the grieving over the loss of an intimate relationship and to focus on what we had to do to become a whole person again. That meant we had to let go of the anger and the blame in order to begin the healing process. The group was there for me the night my divorce became official by court order. I was glad to be with them and not alone in my apartment.

 

The instructor was right. I did feel better on “graduation night” from the workshop and there were plenty of tears and hugs and brownies. Our group exchanged phone numbers before leaving. The high I felt at the end of the workshop came crashing down a week later when I lost my high salaried marketing position. The corporation just eliminated the entire department.

 

I was devastated. During all the trials of the divorce I had poured myself into the job and had relied on the steady income to keep me independent. Now what would I do? How would I keep the apartment once the severance pay ran out? I went into depression. It got worse as the weeks went by and I couldn’t find another position within the corporation or a like paying job in the city.

 

 I was at or nearing the bottom of my depression pit when a friend from the divorce group called. She asked me how I was doing and I told her. She invited me to he son’s sixth birthday party that afternoon and I at first declined. But she insisted and I thought maybe it would cheer me up.

 

The party was outside in the yard. It was a mistake to be there. The children playing and the mother’s talking about kids and families depressed me more. When they were occupied with a pin the tail on the donkey game I slipped into the house. I wandered into the living room and all of a sudden the tears gushed out and I was shaking uncontrollably.  I cried out to the Lord. With my head bowed and my hand gripping the fireplace mantle I said, “Lord are you there? Let me know. Give me a sign or something that I can know you can hear me… that I matter.”

 

The tears subsided and the shakes stopped. I lifted my head slowly and there in front of me above the mantle I saw through moist eyes a framed copy of “Footprints.”

 

 

 “Footprints”

 

One night a man had a dream and in his dream he reviewed the footsteps he had taken in his life. He looked and noticed that all over the mountains and difficult places he had traveled there was one set of footprints but over the plains and down the hills, there were two sets of footprints, as if someone had walked by his side.

 

He turned to Christ and said, “There is something I don’t understand. Why is it that down the hills and over the smooth and easy places you walked by my side; but here over the tough and difficult places I walked alone, for I see in those places there is just one set of footprints.”

 

Christ said to the man, “It is that while your life was easy that I walked along your side;

But here, where the walking was hard and paths difficult, was the time you needed me most and that is when I carried you.”

 

“Call on Me in your day of trouble and I will deliver you and you will give me the glory.”

(Psalm 50:15)

 

Mary Beth Darling

San Francisco, California

Trusting God

 

Week of December 2

 

It had been 16 years since I visited any gynecologist.  I had no problems up until last year.  I had been having irregular bleeding and heavy periods.  I had several tests.... and they found that I had fibroids and a cyst on my ovary.  My doctor suggested in November a full hysterectomy. 

 

This would be my 5th surgery where they would be cutting my abdomen so I would have to sign a paper that I understand that there is more risk involved. I asked about keeping my ovaries so that I wouldn’t go into full menopause. My doctor said given my age and the cyst (that may require surgery to be removed in the future) she recommended taking everything.  So she told me to let her know what I wanted to do. 

 

 I struggled with this until the day before she had scheduled my surgery, January 30.  I had asked the Lord over and over again if I am doing the right thing.  To be honest with you I was afraid.  It was a pride issue also.  I didn’t want anyone to know, because it could look as though I was weak or defeated.   I chose not to tell anyone but my family. 

 

I had these thoughts that were not of God that were telling me that things would not go right and I would die on the operating table. I was upset and I

 

was up late at night worrying.  I picked up the Bible looking for an answer. I went to several church services seeking solace but the negative thoughts just continued worse than ever.  It was like the more positive I received the more negative I became. This whole thing was overwhelming.  Pastor always says that the battle is in the mind. Let me tell you what was going on in my head was a war. 

 

I had decided that I would go to women's group and afterwards I would call the doctor to tell her I decided to delay the surgery.  But when I went to women's group Sandy who has always been such a comfort to me and my family, praying for us etc., came up to me and told me she was happy to see me there and asked me if I would be now able to come on Tuesdays.  I told her what was going on and she began to talk and I knew the Lord was speaking to me through her because a peace and comfort came on me.  The attacks immediately stopped.  Sharon prayed for me and I was relaxed and knew what I had to do and it was right. I would have the operation. 

 

Everything went extremely well in surgery and I was up walking in 8 hours,  I went home two days later.  When I was in the hospital I had such comfort knowing that Jesus was there with me.  The nursing staff commented on how fast I was up and walking and I knew that it was the Lord giving me the ability to get around so quickly. 

 

When I returned  a week later to have the staples removed my doctor shared what she didn’t want to tell me on the telephone.  She said they tested everything that was taken out and found that I

had cancerous cells in the body of my uterus. This is an extremely fast growing cancer. Every time the uterus sheds, the cancer grows and starts spreading into the blood. The recommended procedure for  this is a full hysterectomy. What they found was that the cancerous cells were still intact and were concentrated in one area of the uterus 

 

My doctor told me that I was a lucky woman that someone was watching over me.  I said I know God is.  She said you are cured.  She kept saying that over and over.  We cried and held one another. 

 

My doctor had no idea that the cancer cells were there.  I asked her why it wasn't seen on all the tests.  She said that where it was located no test would have detected it.  I cried even more.  If I had not had this operation I would be looking at 5-6 months, that’s all.

 

If my doctor had not taken my ovaries she would have had to go back in and get them.  When cancer is present the best operation is actually cutting your abdomen (what I had) because when they do the other surgery there is a risk of dropping cells. 

 

What an awesome God we have.  Not only did He heal me of something that would have killed me but also He didn't even let me know that I had it and my family never had to go through that worry and anguish.  I do not have to know everything.  I just have to trust Him.  No glory can be given to any test or doctor but only to God. He knew. No one else did.  I am so grateful words can’t describe.

 

Jackie Harmon

Richmond ,Virginia