A few weeks ago, I wrote a very short piece entitled “I Prayed.” It was in regards to the manner in which Jesus operated during His earthly
ministry. The way He began, and the way He continued:
“I prayed.
Heaven opened.
He descended.
I heard Him speak.
He filled and led Me.
Then I returned in His
power. Amen.”
Since writing it, and sitting with this truth, another realization
has emerged. This wasn’t just theway Jesus operated on earth. This was a
poetic and relational dance He had with Father and Holy Spirit.
And while admiring the ease and rhythm of it, He showed me
the two most important elements that book-ended their dance:
“I knew and believed
the love.
And…I glorified His
name.”
Check it out.
Jesus’ motivation to “dance,” with Father and Holy Spirit,
came from the love they shared. Their beautiful, uncomplicated movements were
fueled only from Him knowing and believing the love.
With love intact, it was then that Jesus prayed, communing with
Father and Spirit. It was then that heaven opened; that Holy Spirit descended
on Him marking and sealing Him; that His ears were opened to hear Father speak.
And it was then that He received Holy Spirit’s filling, leading and power to
“dance.”
All their poetry and rhythmic relationship was released only because Jesus knew and believed the love. And because of
that, the remarkable automatically took place: Father, Spirit and Son were glorified.
“I knew and believed
the love.
I prayed.
Heaven opened.
He descended.
I heard Him speak.
He filled and led Me.
Then, I returned in
His power.
And…I glorified His
name. Amen.”
And because Jesus was
the Son of Man…fully human, He not only led the way, but gifted us with this same
poetic, relational dance. However, the “steps” remain the same: We also, are only to know and believe the love. Then the “dance” will follow. But more
importantly, the remarkable will automatically occur: All…Father, Son, Holy
Spirit, and we, sons and daughters
called by the name of the Most High God, will be glorified. Amen.
Ten years ago, during a very dark night in my life, Psalm 23
came to me in a breathtaking shaft of light. The truth is that “common”
scripture I memorized as a child, and heard over and over, literally saved my
life in those moments of terror. It gifted me with a strange peace I was extremely
thankful for. A few weeks back, a circumstance presented itself – just one
more, in a long line of challenges since the death of my dad 15 months past. I
had a bout with appendicitis. Although the intensity of the experience was not
nearly as dramatic as my “dark night”, or the death of my dad…. it was tough.
And on one particular night while still in the hospital, I
hit a point of deep discouragement. And the Lord brought me back to Psalm 23 in an intriguing
form of encouragement. He invited me to say it to Him, in my own words, as a
prayer of thanksgiving; as if my life was already complete. This is what I prayed:
“You Lord, were always my Shepherd. Throughout my life You
caused me to lie down, repeatedly in soft, green pastures. You led me beside peaceful,
still waters. And You lovingly and gently stored, and re-stored my soul.
Papa, all of my life You led me in Your sweet paths of righteousness,
for the sake of Your holy and beautiful name. Even though I have walked through the valley of the
shadow of death, I have feared absolutely nothing, because You are still with
me.
Your rod and Your staff, although hard, comforted me many
times. As I knew that those whom You love You discipline.
More than once You laid out a feasting table for me to sit
at in the very presence of the enemy of my soul. Over and over, You abundantly anointed my head with oil; my
cup overflowed.
Surely goodness and mercy did more than follow me all the
days of my earthly life. I not only lived on this earth in Your presence. But am
now living in it with You, forever.”
The comfort I was absorbed in as I chose each word was profound.
To thankfully pray my version of Psalm 23 to Him as if I had actually entered eternity
gifted me with another breathtaking shaft of light. He shed peace on my
past, recent past and future. And He filled me once again, with a quiet calm regarding
my present situation.
you have two choices: Regret or Redemption" ~ The Hospital Mom
On January 27, 1999 the unthinkable became our reality. Our pink and precious daughter of 6 months suffered a massive mid-cerebral arterial stroke. The main artery between her spine and her brain had become blocked from a blood clot at the juncture where it splits into the left and right hemispheres. Worldwide, 1 in 25,000 live births will suffer a stroke each year.
The years that have followed have been tumultuous. Doctors, therapies, drug studies, seizures, and surgeries. There are times where I felt I have earned doctoral degrees in Physical Therapy, Occupational Therapy, Pharmacology, Neurology, Developmental Pediatrics and Child Psychology from the Mother's Medical Institute.
At any moment I can walk into an emergency room and speak in medical terms with any nurse, doctor or specialist. Pity the poor nurse who argued with me that my child could not possibly have suffered a stroke. "Children do not have strokes," she said with condescending authority.
Ashley was having seizures and I walked into the emergency room in Tulsa, Oklahoma telling the medical team what she needed. I had been on the phone with her neurologist and we agreed I could transport her to the hospital quicker than an ambulance could find me - plus I was already in the car and on my way - and he would meet me there.
My dad met us at the hospital and while he entertained my 25 month old daughter, I politely asked the nurse to step outside the room. "Never tell a parent in front of a child that they are making up a diagnosis, especially one this horrid," I said with the indignation of a mom who was living the unimaginable. The nurse continued to argue with me as the doctor approached and I told her to go pull up the MRI and CT scans from the past 2 years. "I will," she assured me and stomped off, hands on her hips. And she did. The neurologist arrived, treatment began and later, he brought a very apologetic nurse into the room and assured her that infants do indeed have strokes.
That night I realized that parents must be advocates for their children. As the years passed, I learned most parents are so intimated by the medical process, hospital personnel and are simply overwhelmed by their situation that they are afraid to speak up. They will accept whatever is told them and not ask questions, advocate for help or seek solutions for their children.
I have worked with families in numerous settings - adult education centers, as a parent advocate in schools, at church and as a chaplain. The redemption of Ashley's story is in sharing the wisdom, education and experiences we have gained in this struggle. Parents of chronically medically challenged children are more likely to divorce, have extra-marital affairs and battle addictions. As their world centers around their children, hospitals and the medical world, they withdraw into themselves and face depression while living in a constant state of regret - the "would of, could of, should of" state of mind.
Our purpose is simple:
To provide Hope and Humor to Families of Chronically Medically Challenged Children.
Answering Emails of Hurting Families at Kim@hospitalmom.net
H.O.P.E. Delivery Bags for Caregivers at Hospitals
Currently, I am writing a book to bring Hope to Families. The following is an excerpt from "Beautifully Complicated," the story of redeeming the hurt in our lives in order "to Know HIM and Make HIM Known."
from BEAUTIFULLY COMPLICATED
“This is my Father’s World
and to my listening ears
All nature sings and ‘round me rings
The beauty of the sphere.”
Eighteen years ago I first sang this song to my infant baby girl. Born early - eager to change our world. Born tiny - proving size does not matter. Born the baby sister - her brother in love with her before she was before. Born a surprise - her daddy named her the moment he saw the positive pregnancy test.
“This is my Father’s World
I rest me in the thought
Of rocks and trees; of skies and seas
His hand the wonders wrought.”
Fifteen times I have laid her on an operating table and sang those words in her ear as she drifted to sleep. Sometimes easily. Sometimes fearfully, gripping my hand. Sometimes I have had tears in own voice and many times, I have sang to a room full of surgeons and technicians who came to the operating theater because they had heard of this family who sang before surgery and wanted to experience the peace that is in the room.
Three times I have sang this hymn in the surgery waiting room because that facility did not allow me to accompany her into the operating room.
Eighteen surgeries.
Thousands of miles driven in rain, snow, sunshine and shadow.
Months our family has lived apart - separated by 8 hours and the Rocky Mountains.
Dozens of professionals. Hundreds of medications. Thousands of phone calls to doctors. Ten Thousands of hours in research by specialists and parents.
Millions of prayers raised by family, friends and even strangers.
This indeed is My Father's World. The Unthinkable will happen because this world is in a fallen state where the sin of mankind has brought heartache. Yet God redeems the pain of our fallen state to help each other. When we help each other that pain becomes bearable, even manageable as we allow Him to reveal His glory as we live other lives for others.
“This is my Father's world.
O let me ne'er forget
that though the wrong seems oft so strong,
God is the ruler yet.
This is my Father's world:
why should my heart be sad?
The Lord is King; let the heavens ring!
God reigns; let the earth be glad!”
Are you living the Unthinkable?
Where you never dreamed you would be?
Are you living in Regret - depressed, lonely, self-pity - or in Redemption?
As you listen to the song below, go to God in Prayer and
The other day, I had a hard and messy conversation with an
individual regarding their dissatisfaction with the church, and what they felt
was wrong with it. The truth is I was hurt and very frustrated, as this wasn’t
the first time I’d been approached with the same thing. However, after I allowed myself the shabby process of
sorting out my raw emotions with God and my husband, the Lord reminded of II
Corinthians 5:17-21:
“Therefore,
if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away;
behold, all things have become new. Now all things are of God, who has
reconciled us to Himself through Jesus Christ, and has given us the ministry of
reconciliation, that is, that God was in Christ reconciling the world to
Himself, not imputing their trespasses to them, and has committed to us the
word of reconciliation. Now then, we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God
were pleading through us: we implore you on Christ’s behalf, be reconciled to
God. For He made Him who knew no sin to be sin for us, that we might become the
righteousness of God in Him.”
I realized if things
were the way He intended in the beginning, there would be no need for our
administrating reconciliation. For when things are reconciled, they are
back to the way they were created to be.
When Christ was here He waded through enormous dysfunction
with people’s perceptions of what He needed to do to make things right – in the
synagogues; with the Pharisees and crowds; with the twelve men He hand-picked
to journey with Him; even with his mother and siblings. And though
Scripture doesn’t give much detail about His childhood, I can’t help but think
there was a lot of muddling He had to endure just being a kid and teenager.
We want things to be neat and tidy; to be okay. And more times
than not, I think that means, the way I
want them to be. We hate the groaning our spirits, bodies and souls experience
when we perceive things are not the way they’re supposed to be. And the last
thing we want to do is stick around and engage in the hard work of restoration.
Several years ago, a wise young man said to me, “Relationships are messy, and no one wants
to get involved in them.” He was right. It’s obvious. When things don’t go
the way we want, our first reaction is to bail…. don’t stick around and muddle
through the mess and confusing in-betweens. It hurts. It’s hard. We have no
promise that we’re going to see resolution. And what’s worse, we have no control
over the outcome, let alone another’s choice.
I completely understand. I’ve bailed more times than I care
to admit. I’ve thrown my hands up in frustration umpteen times, “knowing” for certain
things are never going to change. But if that is true, then this passage of
Scripture isn’t. So today, I am actually thankful for the individual
approaching me. For although the issue was not resolved, I now see I was presented with another opportunity to
use my “ambassador muscles.” God, and this person, trusted me with part of the messy process
of bringing a piece of reconciliation to this beautiful, broken and messy
world. And I am glad I chose to engage in it.
It is more than a building of bricks and mortar; Much more than a gathering of people with similar interests. It is not a stagnant pool of ideas; Nor is it a wasteland void of intelligence.
The Church is a living organism. In constant change while remaining rooted on one solid foundation:
Jesus Christ
Just as Christ was hated, so people hate the church. It is seen as an organized group of hypocritical, weak-minded, non-thinkers who use religion as a crutch to mystically explain the galaxy and justify the outcome of their existence.
While sitting in service on a recent Sunday morning, I began to look at those around me -- I saw the Brave - Who have recently lost a baby And still are serving children in the nursery. I saw the Strong - Who have seen marriages crumble And take time to feed a young widow. I saw Professionals - Who gave up careers to share Jesus And love people more than comfort. I saw the Aged - With achy bodies and facing the twilight of life And greet others with a smile and hug and words to encourage. I saw hurting women, doubting men, struggling teens, questioning husbands, tired moms, weary travelers and seeking students. I was surrounded by the broken, the struggling and the lost. There was sin and illness and pain; anger issues, workaholics and recovering addicts.
And it was the most beautiful thing I have ever witnessed.
The church is not a refuge for the perfect from a fallen world. It is a sanctuary for the struggling, striving, growing, forgiven followers of Christ. It is a way-station for the weary travelers on life's road. It is an emergency ward for those who are wounded both physically, emotionally and spiritually. It is a school for those yearning to walk closer with God. It is a place where Truth is tempered with Grace and Mercy. Where hands are held and tears are shed and joys are shared. Yes, the church is full of hypocrites and sinners. But so much more ------
It is HOPE !
The Church is not perfect because it is filled with people.
People battling the hurt of a fallen world.
Imperfect people who need the HOPE of Jesus Christ.
May we be brave to be perfectly imperfect and love those around us with Christ's perfect love. May we serve those in our community - at work, our neighbors and in our church.
I'm not talking about a stroll downtown under the street lamps. I'm talking pitch black, middle of nowhere, only the stars and moon as your light dark? It's intimidating. You don't know what's out there. It's really hard to see your path. It's easy to stumble and fall.
The Bible tells us that each of us made this walk before Christ entered our hearts. We were stumbling in the dark, desperately searching for any path that worked. We tripped and fell. It was hard, it was scary. It hurt.
And then He came. The Word Made Flesh invaded your personal darkness.
And He brought you light. His light shined in your darkness. It lit your path.
Do you remember that feeling, the first time you felt like the darkness would not consume you?
If you are anything like me, that light gave you a thrill like no other. You felt like you could fly. You felt like there was nothing that could hurt you again. And so you began to run. In the dark. You had the light now, nothing could stop you.
But there was a learning curve. That light didn't shine on every corner of your darkness, did it? It didn't illuminate every crack and crevice. It didn't make the world around you as bright as day. You could see the path in front of you, but there was darkness beyond that circle of light. It was like a flashlight, and you began to learn an important lesson.
Do you notice what Father revealed to the psalmist? A lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path. I picture coming down a hiking trail at night. You have a flashlight to illuminate your next few steps. You have the lights of town that reveal your destination. But, in between, there is darkness.
In this journey called life, we have a guide. His name is Jesus. He will, if we ask, illuminate the next steps we should take. We can see the pitfalls and avoid them. He also shines the light of our destination with Him, that dream or vision He planted in our hearts. But the in-between is darkness.
He doesn't light the whole path.
This fact, to me, is frustrating. I struggle to stay within that small circle He has illuminated for me. Boundaries annoy me. Not knowing annoys me. And so I wander outside the circle, into the darkness. And I trip. And I stumble. But when I call out, Jesus is right there to pick me up and dust me off. And we start again on my path.
If I am diligent to stay on the path He is lighting, my walk is easier. It's not easy, but it is easier. There are still things to avoid and obstacles to overcome, but it's not nearly as hard as when I stumbled by myself in the pitch black.
It is possible, this walk in the dark. He promises to walk with me, to light my steps. And I can choose to trust Him and stay in His light. And I can look forward to His promises, to my destination He has chosen for me.
Can I trust that the darkness in-between, the parts of His plan I can't yet see, are not as scary as my imagination tells me? Can you?
Putt-sing around my house a few months ago, I was wrestling
with a dogging question: Should I or should I not help an individual with a genuine
need, which in this case happens to be close to me? When I heard: “Bear one another’s burdens…” And…“for each one shall bearhis own load.” (Galatians 6.2, 5)
A familiar frustration rose in my spirit, for in times past I
had grappled, without resolution, with these exact phrases and specific words. “Lord,” I said. “In
one breath You command us to bear another’s burden, and in the next You seem to
contradict commanding the exact opposite. I don’t know what to do or how to be.”
“I know,” He replied. “Look into it.”
So I dropped what I was involved with, went to my Strong’s Exhaustive Concordance, and
looked up the words and phrases I felt Him emphasize. To my chagrin, in both instances, the definition of bear was exactly what I thought: “to remove, lift, endure, sustain, receive,
etc.” However, I was surprised to find where its meaning was derived….from
the base of the Greek word basis
which means “to walk; a pace (‘base’)
i.e. (by implication) the foot.”
Immediately a picture came of two people walking side by
side, one was carrying a large burden while the other, walking in pace, was helping
alleviate some of its weight, but was
not taking the burden from them. Intrigued, I dove into the definition of load, and was even more startled at its
meaning: “an invoice (as part of freight)
i.e. (fig.) a task or service.”
“Wow, Lord…an invoice?”
“Yes, an invoice. I assign to each an invoice;
a task; a service to join with Me. If I have not invoiced you to walk side by
side with another, yet you choose to, you are in fact sabotaging their
relational footing with Me. And, by carrying all, or some, of another’s burden I
did not invoice harms our walk as well. Be watchful, child. Do not disrupt your, or
another’s, relationship with Me by carrying what has not been
invoiced you.” Sweet release washed over me shedding light on my present
situation, as well as evaporating that unresolved and dogging question. For I
had many times, out of guilt, shame, or condemnation, whether self-inflicted or
imposed by others, helped carry, or carried all
of another’s burden never invoiced me. And the results were damaging to the cadence
of each relationship. So, when another’s need arises, I am now inclined to stop
and ask, “Have you invoiced me to come along side, Holy Spirit? Or is this theirs to join with You,
alone?
And while admiring the ease and rhythm of it, He showed me
the two most important elements that book-ended their dance:
All their poetry and rhythmic relationship was released only because Jesus knew and believed the love. And because of
that, the remarkable automatically took place: Father, Spirit and Son were glorified.
Posts
