Submitted by Beth Mills, PWOCI President

One of the greatest challenges of the military lifestyle is creating authentic friendships. Just when I feel like we’ve really got some solid friendships developing, I learn that either they have to PCS or we have to PCS. This is one reason why I’ve loved PWOC so much. As I’ve developed close friendships while serving with other ladies on a board at my local PWOC or while praying with them in our Bible study care group, I know the Lord will watch over us and keep us until we meet again. The regional and international conferences are so refreshing because old friendships are renewed and we can catch up with one another again, even if it is only for a weekend.

Some of you know my PWOC story. When we came into the Army, my tongue-in-cheek motto was “Make friends or die”. I took my kids to a homeschool PE swimming class. The other moms and I began to form a friendship and on several occasions they would talk about whatever was going on in PWOC. I usually tuned out during that portion of the conversation; I wasn’t interested in another Bible study, let alone a large group of women. One of my new friends was getting ready to move (of course!) and she said the first thing she was going to do when she got to Germany was find the local PWOC because she knew that she was guaranteed to have instant friends. At that moment, I decided I’d take the next step and go to PWOC that summer.

What my friend said is still true for me today. PWOC is where I find instant friends, but I have to take the next step if I want to create an authentic friendship and not just another acquaintance. Mixers and ice-breakers are not my favorite activities, but I’m learning that they’re a great vehicle to starting a friendship. We find out some pretty crazy stuff about one another-like who’s been a contestant on The Price is Right or who’s taken a journey by caravan in the Sahara Desert! We also find out some things we have in common with one another that we might not have known had we not participated in that mixer. When I find that touch-point where I have something in common with someone new, I take the next step in our friendship and engage her in conversation. I often find that we have even more in common.  It becomes easier and easier to take the next steps after I’ve taken the first few-the next step of praying with one another in Bible study; the next step of meeting for coffee or lunch in one another’s home; the next step of asking for or extending forgiveness when it’s needed; the next step of bearing one another’s burdens and sharing one another’s joys. The next thing you know, one or both of you will have moved on to the next duty station and be separated for months or years. But there may be a time during one of the PWOC conferences when you’ll hear that familiar scream and run with arms wide open for the PWOC hug in the lobby! And that’s just a tiny taste of the amazing homecoming we’ll all experience together at the Wedding Supper of the Lamb!

Submitted By Beth Mills, PWOCI President

My husband and I had our five children within six-and-a-half years, no twins. When I realized I was going to have five teenagers, I’ll admit, I felt a stab of fear. But the Lord graciously dispelled the subtle lie of the enemy that I had bought, that the teen years are supposed to be filled with bad attitudes and rebellion. The Bible has many promises for right relationship with our children, promises that extend far beyond the teen years. Praise the Lord, it’s never too late to begin anew with our children, no matter their ages. We’re living in the days when the hearts of the fathers are turned to their children, and the hearts of the children are turned to their fathers (Malachi 4:5-6; Matt. 11:14; Luke 1:17). Deep, loving relationships with our children are made possible through the Lord’s Holy Spirit at work in our hearts and lives.

Following are some ways we’ve nurtured intimacy with our children.

1.  Protect family time– We purposely spend regular time with our children. We had “Daddy-Daughter Dates” and “Mommy-Son Dates” when we just took one of our children for a soda or a walk around the block. That daughter or son had our undivided attention in those moments. Priceless. We guard our family meal time and keep one night a week free for games, stories, movies or just sitting around the fire together.

2.  Love language—using what we learned from Gary Chapman’s book The Five Love Languages, we “practice” communicating our love in each child’s language, and we taught them to do likewise with their brothers and sisters.

3.  Words—words have the power to build up or tear down (Prov. 18:21). The purpose of discipline is to build up our children. We determined to break their strong self-will without breaking their spirit. Speaking the truth in love and with grace builds trust in our relationship.

4.  Forgiveness—as much as we want to be perfect parents, we still make mistakes in our parenting journey. When we do, we ask our children to forgive us. Rather than making us “appear weak” by admitting our faults, forgiveness brings strength to our relationship. In turn, when our children disobeyed, we extended forgiveness to them and prayed with them in the disciplining process.

5.  Prayer—we followed the axiom, “The family that prays together, stays together.” We pray together over our moves, our challenges in school or with friendships, our future calling, etc. When the children were small, we taught them that their prayers were not small. Together, our faith in God has grown deeper as we share what the Lord has shown us in His Word and in prayer.

Submitted by Gwen Scott, Ft. Bragg

“…With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day. 9 The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. Instead he is patient with you…”  2 Peter 3:8b-9a 

Still day 1

It feels like forever ago that I kissed him goodbye, but it seems like just minutes have passed. How long is a year? How did we do this before?  It’s surreal, but it’s for real, he’s on his way out of the country, on a mission. When I see him next, our kids will be another year older. Jonni will have her driver’s license. Maliek will probably be taller than him. Kara will look like a young lady, not a baby girl anymore.  (Hopefully I’ll be twenty pounds lighter!!) We will have lived in the next new house for longer than we have lived in this one.  We will be settled in a home that he has never stepped foot in.  It’s hard to fathom, even what our lives will look like by next spring. Who we will hang out with, what will we be into? My heart can’t really line up with my head right now, to digest the fact that my man won’t be pulling that little car into the driveway tonight. He won’t even be home late for dinner. There won’t be any sweaty PT clothes lying in front of the washer waiting to be washed.  No one is gonna turn on ESPN tonight. There really won’t be anyone to cuddle with under those cool sheets and that squishy down comforter that we love so much. Not any big reason to shave my legs!  No one will poke me in the night to let me know I’m snoring again. No one will nudge me in the morning to let me know it’s time to get up. I guess I will make less coffee. Who will ever finish that pack of raisin oatmeal? I already miss things that don’t seem like they could, or should, be missed.

How long will I stay on this edge of emotion?  How long will I be completely ok one minute and the verge of crying the next? What is my new normal? I don’t want a new normal. I want my best friend. The man of this house. I don’t like waterproof mascara. And I’m gonna need more eye gel soon.

But you know what? I am so completely honored to be the wife of a man who serves God and country at the same time. I am thankful to be his helpmeet and the mom of his kiddos. I love having his name. As much as I plain hate days like these, I can’t think of another life that I’d want to live. If he is a soldier, then I wanna be a soldier’s wife.  Period.

And I trust that there’s not a detail that God doesn’t know about. He delights in the details of our lives. He knows what my kids are thinking and feeling even when I cannot tell. He knows what I need even before I ask. Nothing is too big, or too little, for Him. Not a deployment. Not a cockroach. He is able, and I trust Him.

By Melinda Hemphill

I began blogging in 2005 in order to stay in touch with family and friends, to practice some different writing styles, and honestly, because I’ve been an obsessive scrapbooker and journal-keeper for years. I guess it was just a natural progression to document the family’s activities and my thoughts about faith and life online instead of print.

Over the past few years, I’ve seen the blogging option for PWOCI develop from a print newsletter to an occasional option on a regional page on the website to the PWOCI blog that we now have on each week day. So why do we do it? Why do we write? I think it’s part of the makeup of our ministry to want to share with others.

Sharing with others out of our life experiences, out of our testimony of faith, out of our frustrations of our shared military lifestyle, out of a need to give back and possibly even educate.

The Communications Team from the past two years met at conference for an early morning breakfast, and the contributions of creative giftings permeated the room.  Think about how these offerings can be involved in the Great Commission (Matthew 28:18-20)  that Christ left us: web management, graphic design, print layout, blogs, social networking, video production, proofreading, editing, other forms of writing, administrative gifts, all trying to keep up with an everchanging level of technology. All of these can be used as part of God’s command to go into all the world and preach the Gospel.

Comparing a significant era in history of the church to our communications situations today can be seen in the 2005 book, Blog: Understanding the Information Reformation That’s Changing Your World, by Hugh Hewitt (Nelson). And I quote, “The sixteenth and twenty-first centuries share a dramatic element in common – the birth of a revolution in communications technology. The cultural, political, and economic transformations that emerged out of the Reformation and have affected the course of Western civilization ever since were fueled in large part by the advent of an extraordinary device: the movable-type printing press…Gutenberg’s gift of the printed page was an invitation to new understanding and human liberty. As we set our feet firmly in the Information Age, an examination of the sixteenth century allows us to see how the power of publishing can change the world.”

The power of publishing can change the world. God has called us to go and tell.

That’s why we share the Good News with the nations and generations through this medium. That’s why we blog.

Diane Hall- Southeast Region President

I was blessed to attend the 2010 PWOC International Fall Conference and listen to the remarkable teaching of Priscilla Shirer.  She spoke of who God is and pointed out that we have a God who has an omniscient presence in our lives. But I took pause when she added that He wants us to witness His manifest, or obvious, presence in our lives.  She explained that there are seasons, times, and events when we are in the presence of God but we miss it.  Biblical examples were Gen 28:16, Luke 24:13-35 and John 20:14.  This challenged me to reflect on His presence, on where I look to see it and if I have I missed it.

A few summers ago our family vacationed at the beach.  I was rose early one morning to meet with God on the shore.  As I strolled along the water’s edge and looked at the sand, I asked God to show me something incredible.  I progressed very slowly, looking for a magnificent shell or any other thing of beauty or significance.  But sadly, the feeling of disappoint with God’s lack of response began to set in and doubt began to prevail.

A number of steps later I heard God’s gentle voice say, “Look up.”  As my head lifted, I gazed at the manifest presence of God at work to light the world!  The sun was just above the horizon, peeking through clouds of billowy white.  The sky was painted in a full spectrum of reds and yellows on a backdrop of a new day’s promise.  God answered my request and was showing me something incredible!

That day I realized that I often focus on the path in front of me for a glimpse of God’s manifest presence.  But His vivid illustration showed me that I must keep my eyes looking upward so He can reveal Himself to me.  His presence is obvious and easily recognized, if we are looking to Him.  He is something incredible!

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It’s a Wrap!

This is the final installment of Life Happens – Jesus Answers and “Journey of Transformation.” God is bringing changes to the PWOCI blog so it is time to say goodbye. Change is good when it’s God directed and I trust that He has many blessings in store for us as we Shine in the Light of His Glory.

To begin, I’m including the final paragraph from the July 1, 2010, entry for context:

By September 2002 my health disaster was out of control. Clearly, there was more than lupus ravaging my body. The time had come to take my health care to the next level. I needed answers and I needed them fast. Fortunately, God had an awesome rheumatologist waiting in the wings.

By October 2002 I was wheelchair bound. I needed assistance with eating, bathing, dressing and walking. I was carried up and down stairs. I was bedridden. The excruciating pain, weakness, and burning in my arms prevented me from using them except for balance. The slightest exertion exhausted me. Infected ulcers burrowed to the bone on my elbows. This was a new level of torment.

By the grace of God I landed in the office of Dr. Michael Baker and my search for genuine help was over. I slumped in the rented wheelchair, head adorned with a ball cap covering my unsightly mane, and tears streaking my red, swollen, disfigured face. Both Dr. Baker and my husband carefully lifted me out of the chair and led me toward the examining table. Not only was I nearly paralyzed, I was breathless from exertion, and virtually lifeless.

After a physical examination, lab tests, and a muscle biopsy, Dr. Baker concluded that I had a form of muscular dystrophy called dermatomyositis. This life-threatening autoimmune disease attacks skin, muscle, and connective tissue – basically, the entire body can be affected. Only a small percentage of lupus was present by comparison. The other autoimmune diseases were Sjogren’s Syndrome, Raynaud’s Syndrome, and hypothyroidism. Treatment was prednisone and intravenous immunoglobulin (IVIG) infusions derived from human plasma.

With this new information came the time to update my Exceptional Family Member Program (EFMP) data including the fact that I had only a five-percent chance of survival. Without treatment, or if treatment didn’t work, I would have died. Years later while my dad was dying I learned that I could have received hospice care because my diagnosis and prognosis were so critical. This is something more people should know in case they have gravely ill family members who aren’t necessarily terminal.

Once I was officially diagnosed with a neuromuscular disease I became one of “Jerry’s Kids” and received a custom-fit wheelchair compliments of the Muscular Dystrophy Association. I still have it to this day and intend to keep it as a reminder of the depths to which I plummeted and the brink from which God saved me.

In spring 2003 a knowledgeable army dermatologist gave me a remedy for the infected ulcers on my elbows. One part vinegar to one part water. You heard me right. I was so angry to have suffered for eight months with this torture and all I would have had to do was soak my elbows in vinegar and water! Of course, the remedy was just as excruciating as the ulcers themselves. So I took oxycontin an hour before soaking because the burning pain was too much to bear.

By July 2003 the ulcers were gone but they left permanent, hideous scars. I was able to drive by this time and managed to get myself to PWOC. I had to sit during the entire program and went straight home and back to bed after. In March 2004 I was able to discontinue taking prednisone but continued the infusions.

The promise I received from the Holy Spirit back in 2001 about this trial lasting about five years came to pass. From the time I began getting symptoms in January 2000 to the end of 2004 the ordeal was largely over. Five years. After that the recovery process began.

In January 2005 I began weight training for the first time since 2000 and could lift only 10 pounds on the leg extension machine (quadriceps). I’m still working my way up to 90 pounds which is what I lifted before the disease set in. My quadriceps and biceps were the most severely affected muscles in my body.

By May 2005 I no longer needed oxycontin and phenergan for pain and nausea, and I finished the IVIG infusions after 27 months of treatment. It nearly took a miracle for me to receive these costly infusions but God worked it out. By August 2005 my hair had grown back completely. In 2006 I continued serving at my local PWOC.

In October 2007 my rheumatologist declared me cured of dermatomyositis. I stood in front of the PWOC body and gave an impromptu testimony about my healing, and proceeded to cut up the handicapped plaquard once displayed from the rearview mirror of my car. It was an act of faith.

As I recall 1999 when I walked around our Germany apartment praying for God to transform me by the renewing of my mind (Romans 12:2) I had no idea how He would answer that prayer. I certainly didn’t expect Him to take me down a dark and tangled road. Having endured all this and more, I am convinced we are far better off not knowing the future. Anticipating suffering of this nature would render many of us immobile.

Having persevered and arrived on the other side, I understand why God chose this path for me. It was effective. He used my physical anguish to produce an inward cleansing and strengthening of my heart and soul. As a result, I am free from many old habits, mindsets, and strongholds that kept me from living free in Christ.

There is nothing like a life-threatening illness to get you in a position of dependence, humility, and focus. It creates sober reflection and laser sharp awareness of what really matters in life. The things I thought were important gradually fell away while life itself shone through as the most significant thing of all – that is, eternal life. “Turn your eyes upon Jesus, Look full in His wonderful face, And the things of earth will grow strangely dim, In the light of His glory and grace …”

God taught me many things through my journey of transformation thus far, but rather than sharing some of them in my own words I’ve chosen to let the Word of God speak:

Before I was afflicted I went astray, but now I obey your word (Psalm 119:67).

Blows and wounds cleanse away evil, and beatings purge the inmost being (Proverbs 20:30).

I was pushed back and about to fall, but the Lord helped me. The Lord is my strength and my song; he has become my salvation (Psalm 118:13-14).

And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast (1 Peter 5:10).

(More: Romans 12:1-2; 2 Corinthians 12:8-10; Hebrews 12:1-2; Psalm 103:1-5; Psalm 116:1-7; Psalm 119:71, 75, 92, 116-117; Isaiah 40; Isaiah 55:8-9; Isaiah 61:1-4.)

THE JOURNEY ENDS

It’s my hope that this Journey of Transformation has been a testimony of God’s ways, power, love and grace. I pray that the Holy Spirit used this story to encourage, to educate, and to challenge you. Never cower in the face of grave difficulties, but trust in God’s sovereignty, goodness, and mercy even when everything in you cries out against them. Because when Life Happens – Jesus Answers. May Jesus lead you gently through your own Journey of Transformation.

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Another Emergency

Here we were, back in Colorado Springs in the summer of 2002. We temporarily settled into my parents’ townhome while we waited for our renters to move out of our house. Our Chaplain friend delivered the Honda Accord to us a couple weeks later when he arrived to attend the conference at the Air Force Academy.

Spouses are welcomed to attend the conferences, and I wanted to go so badly but couldn’t quite muster the strength. Most of my days were spent in bed or sitting in a chair. I felt less and less like being up and about. I camped out in the guest room most of the time, sleeping intermittently through each day. I remember hearing strange construction-like noises outside, but the window well blocked my view. It was rare for me to leave that room.

The white calcifications on my fingers could no longer be controlled and they developed into nickel–sized ulcers on my knuckles. The ones that erupted on my elbows were particularly excruciating. The burning pain was more than I could bear and I ended up at the Air Force Academy ER as I had months before. This time the ER staff was so puzzled and horrified by what they saw that they took x-rays of my hands to check for soft tissue abnormalities. Nothing showed.

Because the Air Force rheumatologist wasn’t available to assess me, and they didn’t have room to keep me around for hours, the ER staff redirected me to the ER at Fort Carson. I wondered if they thought I had some bizarre contagious disease that could spread to the whole community. They were far more alarmed than I was. I just needed painkillers again.

When I arrived at Fort Carson the ER staff administered morphine and this time I made sure they gave me an anti-nausea medication to go along with it. They probably gave me prednisone too but I don’t remember that. The anti-nausea medication made me feel weird. When I was being discharged from the ER I wasn’t sure if I should leave. Was this feeling going to subside or was it going to worsen?

Upon attempting to leave post my folks and I drove to a gate that was closed. Being 1 a.m. it was dark everywhere and Fort Carson didn’t have many streetlights. We ended up lost in one of the housing areas and I felt so weird I wanted to get home. Finally, we managed to find our way to the main gate which is always open.

We arrived home around 2 a.m. The anti-nausea medication created a strange sensation in my lungs. I was afraid that if I fell asleep I would stop breathing and die. So I stayed awake until the weird feeling subsided.

By September my health disaster was out of control. Clearly, there was more than lupus ravaging my body. The time had come to take my healthcare to the next level. I needed answers and I needed them fast. Fortunately, God had an awesome rheumatologist waiting in the wings.

THE JOURNEY CONTINUES . . . IN SEPTEMBER:

During July and August I will be spending concentrated time with the Lord for refreshment and renewal. I appreciate all of you who faithfully read LHJA each week, and I encourage you to join me in September when the journey continues. In the meantime, bask in the warmth of the Son.

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Life Happens – Jesus Answers is a weekly column addressing the challenges we face in life, coupled with the presence and grace of Jesus, our One True Source of hope and peace. The column’s author, Laura Firtko, can be reached by email here: LifeHappens@pwoc.org

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God Comes Through

The day of departure had arrived. We left the hotel and drove to the Chaplain’s house where our Accord spent the night. God, knowing exactly what we would need long before our move, served up the perfect provision.

And so it goes . . .

A little background: Chaplains are endorsed by various churches or parachurch organizations that provide support and accountability in their roles as Chaplains within the military. Steve and a fellow Chaplain at Fort Campbell happened to share the same endorser. This endorser, located in South Carolina, was holding its annual conference in Colorado Springs at the Air Force Academy. Our Chaplain friend was planning to attend that conference.

Where were Steve and I headed for our compassionate PCS? Colorado Springs. And our house, which had been rented, was a mere 15-minute drive from the Academy. As it turns out, our Chaplain buddy was glad to drive our Honda Accord to Colorado Springs since he was going there anyway. We paid for his expenses and he flew back after the conference as he had originally planned. This couldn’t have worked out more perfectly for us. And, as an additional point of interest, since that conference in the summer of 2002, the endorser hasn’t held any out west.

I find all this very interesting. None of it was coincidental. It reminds me that I never have a valid reason to fret or worry. God has everything worked out in advance. He knows what I really need when I really need it and delivers it right on time.

Back to the story. My memories tend to be sketchy, but for some reason certain moments in time remain etched in my brain. I clearly remember sitting in the passenger seat of our Honda Pilot (we had traded in the Plymouth Voyager minivan for the Pilot), the door was open, and our Chaplain friend’s wife came over to the car and spoke words of encouragement to me. I was so weak, tired, and miserable that I barely responded. I nodded once, turned my head to face forward, and she closed the door. I hoped she didn’t see me as rude or indifferent but rather desperately ill.

I don’t remember the drive home other than it being long. It was the longest ride of my life. When we pulled into my parents’ driveway they were glad to see me but I just wanted to hit the sack.

The subsequent months would prove agonizing but informative. I finally would get the accurate and complete diagnosis I’d longed for.

THE JOURNEY CONTINUES:

In a quest to develop my faith I make an effort to notice the things God does for me that I can’t do for myself. I also pay attention to His creation more. Many of us allow ourselves to get so busy that we lose sight of the beauty around us and, in effect, we lose sight of God.

This summer I’m going to pay closer attention to the birds swirling around my deck. I’m going to listen to their songs and watch the clouds float by. I’m going to breathe the fresh air and let God speak to me through His creation. I’m going to embrace a new appreciation for the obvious, yet often dismissed, blessings in my world.

This summer take time to sit. Look. Listen. Enjoy the blessings that surround you and thank God.

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Life Happens – Jesus Answers is a weekly column addressing the challenges we face in life, coupled with the presence and grace of Jesus, our One True Source of hope and peace. The column’s author, Laura Firtko, can be reached by email here: LifeHappens@pwoc.org

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A Final Word

A couple weeks before our move to Colorado Springs, Steve preached his last sermon. It was one I had written that he tweaked to make his own, “The Hands and Feet of Ministry.”

I felt compelled to write it in response to my deep heartache over the lack of concern and compassion I’d experienced from fellow Chaplain spouses and others at Fort Campbell. For the first time in my life I was desperate, helpless, and almost hopeless. Yet, despite my plight being widely known, few people provided real help or even offered to pray with me. I felt abandoned by the body of Christ.

As I sat in the front row of that chapel and glanced around to check facial expressions, no one seemed the wiser. The message was well received. Truth be told, many people who needed to hear it didn’t attend that chapel.

Even though I had written the sermon from a place of pain there was no indication of that. It wasn’t about me and my story and no specifics were given. It was delivered from a heart of love and concern. It simply was a message that needed to be shared. And it could be shared again today – with all of us.

As the service progressed, one of the chosen hymns was “Showers of Blessing.” In light of our compassionate early PCS I felt blessed to be headed back to Fort Carson. But I needed more. I felt as though all I had experienced up to that point were trickles, drizzles, and drops of blessings. I wanted the SHOWERS!

As the days passed, my strength and energy ebbed away. I felt less human each week. I was more like a catatonic zombie. Being alive was too much trouble. My facial expressions were dull and lifeless. Sometimes I forced a smile or a short response out of consideration for the person present, but it got to the point where I was too weak to care. I just wanted to go home.

The day before our departure Steve drove our Plymouth Voyager minivan and I drove our Honda Accord to post. The 20-minute drive was all I could stand. A new level of listlessness and lethargy consumed me. We left the Accord at a Chaplain’s house overnight and stayed in a hotel.

I lay on the bed in our hotel room perplexed by the burning sensations in my legs. It felt like little fires beneath my skin. I had no painkillers. It didn’t occur to me to take prednisone for pain. I thought that was for other problems. And I didn’t want to subject myself to it again anyway. I’d have to be dying.

I wasn’t in any condition to go anywhere so Steve walked across the street to get a McDonald’s meal and he grabbed a sundae to go along with it. The ice cream temporarily soothed my emotions but it did nothing to douse the fires in my legs.

I dug through my bag and found some ibuprofen that took the edge off the burn so I could sleep. There was no way I could drive to Colorado the next day. It’s a good thing God had that little detail worked out well in advance.

THE JOURNEY CONTINUES:

How often do we pass by a sister in need – even when we’re aware of her situation? I wonder how often I’ve done that. I hope not often. Of course, not every person can respond to every need, and certain ministry assignments are intended for certain Christians.

But I think that sometimes we refrain from helping others because we’re afraid of getting involved. We’re afraid it will require too much time or effort. Maybe we’re afraid we’ll catch their disease, or mysteriously end up with their problem. Maybe we’re so committed to “good” things that we “don’t have time” to reach out when a serious need exists. I suspect we assume other people are helping so we don’t need to.

There usually is a core group of helpers. Perhaps each of us needs to ask the Lord what our role is in the realm of helping sisters in need. Then follow through on what He says. In doing so we can be sure we’re involved where we need to be. We can avoid feeling guilty if we are instructed to refrain. We can avoid helping out of obligation. And we can maintain balance and boundaries in our own lives. The most important thing we can do is obey God’s call.

And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him (Colossians 3:17).

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Life Happens – Jesus Answers is a weekly column addressing the challenges we face in life, coupled with the presence and grace of Jesus, our One True Source of hope and peace. The column’s author, Laura Firtko, can be reached by email here: LifeHappens@pwoc.org

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Alterations

On Easter Sunday in 2002 I sat at the dining room table in front of my makeup mirror. This was the first time in months that I bothered to apply makeup and the lighting revealed changes in my skin. The texture was no longer smooth and the pores were huge. It looked acne prone but no acne was present. And if that wasn’t enough, I had a beard — a thin layer of light hair or “peach fuzz” outlining my face.

That’s a steroid for ya. It turns men into women and women into men.

I was the unfortunate recipient of prednisone side effects. I’d been using the drug for six months and that was enough to cause damage. As was the case when I discovered bald spots on the back of my head on Steve’s birthday, I tried to make myself look pretty. I felt altered. It took herculean effort to muster a good attitude. I forced a smile at chapel but inside I grieved. Of course, no one else knew the difference, but no one else had my face. I hoped these changes would be reversed if I quit taking prednisone. (I will go ahead and tell you now they never were. Physical changes from prednisone usually are permanent.)

In the meantime I continued my supplement regimen hoping that it would be strong enough to hold off the disease process. But soon my hopes would be dashed. One day in the bathroom I looked down at my legs. They were covered with red-purple blotches. It looked like my blood was trying to escape. Along with this horrifying discovery came irritated elbows and knuckles. Red streaks lined my fingers. An excruciating blend of weakness, pain, and burning attacked my upper arms.

These alarming new developments prompted me to contact Tricare to see if I could get a different rheumatologist closer to Clarksville. They accommodated my request and I managed to get an appointment scheduled for June.

By the time June rolled around my condition deteriorated. Every activity was a chore. I was so listless that even holding my Bible was hard. I didn’t want to listen to the radio. Didn’t want to read. Didn’t want to watch TV. I lay there staring at the ceiling praying to God in my mind, “Lord, I’m too weary to move my lips. Read my heart.”

It wasn’t long before someone recognized the severity of my health. Steve got word that we were being sent back to Fort Carson. It was sort of a compassionate reassignment without the official title. It really was more of a compassionate early PCS. Under normal conditions we would have remained at Fort Campbell for another 6-12 months. God orchestrated this move and had the Army send us back to where I had family and access to better specialists.

Because we only had a month before moving I canceled my appointment with the rheumatologist. What was the point of getting started with a new doctor when I was leaving? I was ready to move on, ready to get back home.

God came through with provisions for our move. It was obvious he had everything worked out ahead of time. Again I would see Him acting on my behalf. Yet, I sense a question circulating, “Why did He allow this to happen to you in the first place?” That question would be answered in months to come.

THE JOURNEY CONTINUES:

“Why?” It’s a question we find ourselves asking at times, especially when something horrible happens that seems to have no valid purpose or reason. I like to have answers. I like information. I try to figure things out. I need to know that somehow God will replace my ashes with beauty, my grief with joy (Isaiah 61:3).

What I’ve come to accept is that God will always be incomprehensible. God has a plan that involves the universe and I’m a microscopic part of that. God’s plan is something so massive and astounding that I wouldn’t understand it even if He tried to explain it to me. When I get outside myself and acknowledge the fact that life involves things much bigger than me, and recognize that God is God and that He has eternity in mind, my perspective becomes a little clearer.

All I can do is throw myself at His feet in surrender and trust that He will make all the suffering worthwhile. . . . He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men; yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end . . . (Eccles. 3:1-9).

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Life Happens – Jesus Answers is a weekly column addressing the challenges we face in life, coupled with the presence and grace of Jesus, our One True Source of hope and peace. The column’s author, Laura Firtko, can be reached by email here: LifeHappens@pwoc.org

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