Category Archives: Thankfulness

Wait-and-See

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Between my sister’s family and mine, we’ve racked up 25 trips to local emergency rooms. Admittedly, most were a result of raising 14 adventurous children, but we adults have to take credit for some of them. Yesterday it was my turn.

One week ago a searing pain took over my left side so powerfully I couldn’t move to reach my phone or get enough breath to yell for Birgitta in the next room. It raged for nearly an hour before subsiding but eventually went away completely.

Later that day I told Louisa and Birgitta about it but asked them to keep it quiet. Although they honored my request, they pressured me to tell my sister Mary, our family nurse. I knew if I did, she’d insist I take immediate medical action, so I decided instead to just wait-and-see.

As the week progressed, other curious symptoms popped up: two sharp pains in the upper back, occasional dizziness, achy feelings in my chest, extra fatigue. Were these warnings about an approaching heart event? I didn’t want to risk damage by waiting, but didn’t want to over-react either. So I did what I always do when I don’t know what to do.

I asked God, then decided to just wait-and-see.

A short while later, I was catching up on emails and among them was a friend’s description of an adult daughter’s new heart problem. She also shared about her husband’s unexpected heart procedure at age 70. All I could think was, “Lord, you’ve answered my prayer, and now I know what to do.”

I told Mary.

Although I wasn’t in severe pain, within 90 minutes I was packed and driving from Michigan to Chicago where the two of us walked into the E.R. at Rush Medical Center. Approaching the check-in desk I casually said, “I’m having mild chest pain and…”

In seconds I was tucked into a wheelchair and whisked toward multiple blood tests, a chest x-ray, a rolling EKG, an IV line, and hospital admittance. I didn’t even have time to notify my children. My medical adventure culminated in this morning’s treadmill stress test, monitored by a doctor, a nurse, and a tech.

The upshot of the whole episode? I’m 100% heart-healthy with less than a 1% chance of ever having a heart attack.

So what was that all about? Maybe it was to prompt gratitude for the days I’m not in an ER. It could have been to get educated about heart-health, which we did. Maybe it was to newly appreciate my sister’s love and concern. Possibly it was a dress rehearsal for what’s coming, or a test of whether or not I really trust God when trouble hits. I guess I’ll just wait-and-see.

The whole thing leaves me with several questions, but I may never get the answers. Though ER docs suggested I follow-up with my regular internist this week, I think I’ll just…

wait-and-see.

“Keep watch over me and keep me out of trouble; don’t let me down when I run to you.” (Psalm 25:20, The Message)

Hand-crafted

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These are the developing hands of a 14 weeks-along baby, Birgitta’s little him-or-her. During the ultrasound picture-taking session, this tiny child whose hands had been against his/her cheeks for the first photos suddenly reached toward the camera, fingers splayed, as if to say, “Mama! Look what I have!”

Birgitta said that when these miniature hands flashed on the screen she began giggling so hard the baby joined in on the fun with an enthusiastic wiggle-dance. I like to think it was God’s uncontainable joy bubbling within Birgitta and flooding into her little one.

Being allowed to take a peek at what the Creator is doing inside my daughter’s womb is to get a glimpse of the wonder that God is. It was his idea to design hands as he did, making them useful tools we usually take for granted.

Hands are pretty remarkable. They’re flexible but can be stiffened to hold up something heavy. They can swing a hammer with force or caress a loved one with gentleness. Hands can shake each other in greeting or lend-a-hand as needed. They can cheer someone by clapping approval or reach toward heaven in prayer.

When God gave us hands, he also provided a hand-book. Scripture cautions us to be careful with our hands, to use them as he instructs. Jesus used his hands to touch the untouchable, the diseased, the contaminated. And he allowed his hands to be nailed to a cross for our benefit. One day we’ll get to see evidence of that when he shows us his hands and the scars he wears.

But what are regular people supposed to do with their hands? Birgitta’s child has hands that can’t do much of anything right now, though they’ve already gifted a young mama with joy. One day, though, they may play the piano or paint a picture. Maybe they’ll mold clay or repair computers, perform surgery, write books. We don’t know, but the Lord does, so he’ll help Birgitta coax her little one in the right direction.

But what about the rest of us? In response to God’s profound love, we ought to follow his hand-book to a T. It says we should “do good… be rich in good deeds… generous and willing to share.” (1 Timothy 6:18) He gave us hands to facilitate accomplishing this, and even told us how to handle those deeds: “Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might.” (Ecclesiastes 9:10)

In October our family will get to touch the dimpled, feather-soft hands of a new baby. We may just all start giggling in a fresh outburst of joy at what God has done.

“Can a mother… feel no love for the child she has borne? But even if that were possible, I would not forget you! See, I have written your name on the palms of my hands.” (Isaiah 49:15-16)

The Right Thing to Do

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Before I traveled to Florida, I was happily navigating through Walmart in search of stickers for my grandchildren. Pushing through the women’s clothing section to get to the party aisle, I was thinking of my 5 little ones and especially of baby number 6 (who now has a name and face) when suddenly, out of nowhere, my own mother’s voice rang out in my head. “Margaret, shame on you. Pick that up.”

I’d just wheeled my cart around a grey fleece hoodie lying on the Walmart floor. Mom’s reprimand prompted a memory of decades before when I was a self-centered 15 year old. She and I were often at odds during those days, but we found ourselves on a shopping trip together at Wieboldt’s department store, searching for an outfit I needed but didn’t want.

Wandering amongst the circular racks of clothes, we came to a dress lying on the floor. Without breaking stride, Mom bent over, picked it up and hung it back on the rack. My inappropriate thought was, “They pay people to do that.” But I kept it to myself, to escape a lecture.

Despite my self-absorbed mindset, Mom’s good deed left a mark that lasted 50 years. She hadn’t picked up the dress to teach me a lesson or earn credit with me or anybody else. She did it because she knew someone had to do it, and her thought was it might as well be her. She could help, so she did. It was the right thing to do.

Knowing the right thing to do and doing it, not for credit, not to impress, and not in response to being told to do it, is a good way to live. I would imagine it’s very satisfying. Some people go through life trying to do as little as possible, working to tweak every set of circumstances to their advantage. Others not only live to be helpful, but it doesn’t even cross their minds to step over the clothing.

What is God’s view? Although he’s always overseeing the events on earth, his eyes scanning the crowds, I think he’s watching us especially carefully when we’re alone. How do we act when no one’s looking? Do we cut corners? Stretch the truth? Eat/drink/watch what we shouldn’t? Waste time/money? Do the bare minimum? Maneuver the shopping cart around the garment on the floor?

If we pictured a literal Jesus at our elbow, joining in on whatever we were doing, would we act differently? No doubt.

I turned around, picked up the hoodie, and hung it on the rack.

“Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.” (Romans 12:21)

Rational Fear

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Jack is like all dogs, wanting to go along whenever I leave the house. He accompanies me to church, the dentist, Bible study, and on errands, content to nap in the back seat. Today, though, I decided to leave him at home and patted his head on my way out.

But I just couldn’t turn away from his pleading eyes. “Alright. I guess you can go.”

So off we went to make 5 stops. First up was Walgreens, and I pulled into a parking spot 8 cars away from the entrance. While reaching for my purse and list, another car pulled in on my left. The driver went into the store while his burly passenger stepped out and stood next to my door.

This man was agitated about something, shaking his head and shouting. He stood outside my window facing me, his stomach no more than inches away. He didn’t move but kept shouting at no one in particular while lighting a cigarette.

Fear washed over me, and I looked at my door lock button: open. If I locked the doors in front of him, would it offend him? Would he follow me when I left Walgreens?

A minute passed and he didn’t move. Neither did I, and my gut told me I was in danger… until I remembered who was napping in the back seat. In a raspy whisper tinged with fear I said, “Jack!” and like a shot he was up on all fours facing the window. And the man.

Immediately the intimidating stranger became the intimidated, stepping away from my door and onto the sidewalk, eyes locked on Jack. I started the car, backed away, and headed for errand #2.

While driving, I thought about God’s promise. “Fear not, I am with you.”

“But Lord, a stranger just threatened me! And I was afraid!”

What does God mean by asking us not to fear? He isn’t into feel-good platitudes that have no bite to them in an emergency. His promises are practical, and he personally stands behind them, so I don’t think he means we shouldn’t feel afraid. To the contrary, I think my in-the-moment fear was his gift to help me assess the danger and decide to leave.

So what about God’s statement not to fear?

I think he’s saying, “Because I’m with you, this situation will ultimately end in victory. I’ll settle the score, have no fear about that.”

While that might not be as comforting as we’d like, in the same passage where he says not to fear, he also says, I’ve chosen you… I’ve called you… I’ll help you… I’ll uphold you… I’ll strengthen you…

I promise.

No matter what might have happened in the parking lot today (even an attack), God would have kept those promises to help, to strengthen, whether before, during or after. I’m thankful it turned out as it did and am also thankful for Jack, who will now be my permanent errand-running buddy.

“Do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you.” (Isaiah 41:10)

 

Starting Small

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We’ve all heard the expression, “A journey of 1000 miles begins with a single step.”

This weekend we enjoyed a beautiful snowstorm, and as with the first small step of a journey, that blizzard began with one small snowflake. Mary and I were outside when she spotted a flake in the air and said, “Is it snowing?”

I didn’t see anything and said, “I don’t think so.”

But soon there was one more and then another, and sure enough, millions followed. Insignificant beginnings can reach sizable proportions and end up having considerable influence. Our weekend blizzard got so severe it completely shut down the highways at the southern end of Lake Michigan, bringing everybody’s car to a standstill for hours. And it all began with one snowflake.

Many of life’s important events start just like that, so small they go unnoticed. Take Noah’s flood. That global calamity of mountain-deep water began with one raindrop. In other categories, a college degree begins with one class; a 50 year marriage begins with one vow; a skyscraper begins with one cornerstone; a marathon begins with one stride; and a human life begins with one cell.

Even the creation of God’s Universe began with one word.

But unlike our small steps, all power was embodied in that first word, as it is in all of God’s words, more power than even a category 5 hurricane. And even hurricane power is minor compared to what’s behind every one of God’s words. Were we to thoroughly understand how vast this power is and what he can do with it, we wouldn’t have the courage to get out of bed in the morning.

But interestingly, God says his power “is made perfect in weakness.” In other words, we’re not to stress about how powerful he is. Instead we’re to believe him when he offers to use bits of it for good in our weak lives.

In trying to understand this better, I thought about a gigantic, powerful horse. I pictured him rearing on his hind legs, muscles rippling, head shaking, mane flying, people backing away from such dominant power. Then I pictured that same horse on another day, standing calmly in his corral while a toddler wanders toward him. The massive horse leans low and lightly touches his soft muzzle to the child’s cheek, his muscles relaxed, his power in check.

Although this is an inadequate picture of God’s power and his command over it, it does help me understand a little. He’s willing to control his infinite power enough to participate in our small beginnings. He can gently touch our lives in ways that will, with enough touches, eventually revolutionize us. It’s much like the first step on a long journey or the first snowflake in a big blizzard.

One step with him can grow into thousands. And that life journey is one I want to take.

“The gospel… is the power of God that brings salvation to everyone who believes.” (Romans 1:16)