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Journey of Transformation, Part 24

Jesus Answers, Life Happens, Life Happens Jesus Answers, Real life stories, Testimonies, Uncategorized

May 272010

God and Doctors

God doesn’t often heal people on the spot. He usually heals them through the skilled hand of a physician or surgeon, or he takes them home which is the best healing of all, or he provides other wellness professionals to combat their afflictions.

My mother introduced me to the world of natural medicine through a naturopathic physician who was knowledgeable in nutrition, holistic medicine, and homeopathic remedies. His recommendations helped her so she thought he could help me too.

Upon his first examination he concluded that dermatomyositis seemed like a possibility in a mix of connective tissue diseases. The challenge at this point was nailing it down definitively. That would require additional blood tests performed by my other doctors. But they had either done all they could within their scope of practice or refused to do more. Because the rheumatologist was stuck on lupus based on basic lab tests, he wasn’t willing to test for anything else. So we went with the lupus diagnosis which really didn’t make that much of a difference to the naturopath. Different autoimmune diseases are treated in similar ways. With a blend of multivitamins, powders, liquids, and other healthful substances I launched an attack on the disease from a different angle.

In the meantime, my primary care physician referred me to a nutritionist who concurred with the naturopath that I needed to eat more protein and healthy fats to lower my triglycerides, thereby lowering my heart disease ratio which shot off the chart. Of course this had nothing to do with my autoimmune condition but it was an important piece of information that affected my overall health. In addition, the primary care physician prescribed prednisone which seems to be the go-to drug used for autoimmune diseases. I dreaded its side effects and hoped the supplement program suggested by the naturopath would lessen the effects of the drug. I even hoped the supplements would be effective enough to control the disease so I could quit taking prednisone. That remained to be seen.

Through December and January I continued my treatment plan. By the time February 2002 rolled around Steve made plans to come get me. Turns out he didn’t end up going to Afghanistan after all. So my visit with Judy and the folks would come to an end and my care would be interrupted. At least I wasn’t attached to my rheumatologist. That was no loss. Maybe I would get a new one.

Steve and I stayed for a few days before returning home. On our road trip from Colorado to Tennessee I indulged in Goobers and Raisinettes, crackers, chips and nuts. Hey, the nutritionist and naturopath told me I needed to eat more fat and protein to lower my triglycerides. What better way is there than eating chocolate covered peanuts! I took their advice to heart. It was the yummiest and most painless remedy I’d ever have.

The ensuing months at Fort Campbell would prove interesting. Prednisone damage would show up. The disease would take a new turn. An appointment with a new rheumatologist would be missed. And a compassionate reassignment would be necessary.

THE JOURNEY CONTINUES:

As I reflect on the events of those years I see clearly how God had everything worked out ahead of time. He does go before us preparing the way. Keep checking in each week to see what He does, how He leads, how He provides. And yes, how He takes me deeper than I’d ever gone before. There’s nothing like constant companions Sorrow and Suffering to take one deeper into the realm of inner change and surrender.

If you are enduring, or have endured, an extremely rough season in your life and you’ve never read the book Hinds’ Feet on High Places by Hannah Hurnard, I recommend reading it. Watch how the Chief Shepherd transforms little Much-Afraid on her journey to the high places. It will touch your heart.

The Sovereign Lord is my strength; he makes my feet like the feet of a deer, he enables me to go on the heights (Habakkuk 3:19).

____________________________

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 Clean, Well-Lighted Place for Books

Real life stories, Testimonies

May 262010

Submitted by Nancy Sheridan, San Antonio, TX

When I was in grade school, I used to go to my father’s deli/coffee shop downtown in San Francisco afterschool. Sometimes, after my homework was done, I would go down the street to a bookstore called “A Clean, Well-Lighted Place for Books,” and browse and read in the aisle for as long as I could before we went home. My mom bought me my first book on King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table there (which I still have), and I got hooked on my first Greek mythology there, getting lost in fantastic adventures while my parents closed up shop. That bookstore was a happy place for me, and though I don’t have a lot of specific memories, I just remember going there and having peaceful, solitary moments where the wearying reality of life didn’t intrude.

Last night, a guest pastor at our church spoke on weariness as the enemy’s strategy to wear us down, make us lose our identity and sense of purpose. Weariness, as opposed to tiredness from a day of hard and productive work, is not alleviated by rest and a good night’s sleep. Weariness is a battle for our minds so we cannot see where God’s Word sustains us and guides us and we begin to trust our feelings more than God’s faithfulness. This teaching brought some truth into focus for me and I was strangely reminded of that bookstore long ago.

Now, as a grown woman, I am better equipped to face the onslaught of everyday life: the needs of four children, a husband deploying yet again, friends in dire need, and family members dealing with their own trials. I don’t need to go to a bookstore to find my peace…I can carry it with me now that I know my Lord more intimately. But when I don’t invite Him in to my clean, well-lighted soul, and leave Him at the door, my soul darkens and my peace flees and weariness overruns my emotions.

That happened during the first deployment which kept us apart for almost 2 1/2 years. I lost sight of God’s promises and succumbed to the weariness agenda that made me lose hope and believe lies about my husband and myself. It was a dark and lonely time and it took the encouragement of friends who love me and mentors who set me straight as to the love and grace of Christ in my life. They served me and loved me and reminded gently and with their actions how God sees me and how God sees Steve. God even gave me my own bible passage that describes my husband when I prayed for one.

Now, my identity is wrapped up in the truth of who God is. Who I am doesn’t matter so much, because feelings ebb and flow. But God, unchangeable, everlasting, full of goodness and mercy, HE is my peace, HE is my safety, and HE is my comfort. When I spend time with Him, in my closet, in my bed or on the couch with my kids, the light brightens, the calm magnifies, and hope envelopes us all. Then there is no room in my soul for the disarray of my fickle emotions and unreliable feelings. There is only room for Jesus, solid. And He goes with me everywhere and we have amazing adventures together!

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Journey of Transformation, Part 23

Jesus Answers, Life Happens, Life Happens Jesus Answers, Real life stories, Testimonies

May 202010

Clash of the Specialists

It was November 2001 when I landed in the dermatologist’s office. Dr. Honl was kind, compassionate, professional, and deeply concerned about me. Days later I ended up in the rheumatologist’s office. Dr. Linney (name has been changed) wasn’t so concerned.

The battle of the specialists began.

The first time I visited Dr. Honl she carefully examined my skin. When she noticed my shins she asked, “Do you ever use lotion?” I replied, “Yes, but it takes too much energy to get down there and apply it. I don’t do it often.” The skin looked dry and scaly, almost with a marbled, shiny appearance.

She looked at my fingers and toes. Apparently the ulcers that were forming on the bottoms of my big toes did so because circulation was lacking. The Raynaud’s Syndrome was kicking in more and my hands and feet often turned purple. It was hard to keep them warm. The calcifications and burning sensations on my knuckles and finger tips definitely suggested a serious autoimmune problem.

After assessing me completely Dr. Honl announced, “I think you have a connective tissue disease called dermatomyositis. The skin lesions and muscle weakness are consistent with that.” I told her that other doctors stood firm on the diagnosis of lupus. She was certain that these new eruptions were not signs of lupus although there could possibly be some lupus mixed in. Was she correct?

An official diagnosis had to come from a rheumatologist – a specialist who deals with autoimmune diseases. I’d been here before. The rheumatologist I saw in Bowling Green, Kentucky, who seemed more interested in collecting his fees than he was in helping me, was the guy who gave the “official” lupus diagnosis. But now maybe I would have a doctor who would exert some effort in nailing down this mysterious disease process.

Tri Care assigned me to a rheumatologist named Dr. Linney who happened to be the same one my sister saw. Some doctors are better than others and both of us struck out with this one. After examining me he affirmed the standing diagnosis, “You have lupus.” I said, “Dr. Honl, my dermatologist, thinks that I show definite signs of dermatomyositis.” How did he respond?

Dr. Linney’s cold demeanor nearly made me shiver. There wasn’t a hint of warmth or concern in his expression. With a determined arrogance he refused to give Dr. Honl’s diagnosis a second glance. Something was wrong. I sensed in my spirit that this guy was putting his pride before his patient. It was clear to me that he stood firm on his opinion because he couldn’t handle conceding to a dermatologist – a female dermatologist at that. After all, he was the big rheumatologist and he had to be right! But was he?

Power and control. That’s what it was all about. Where did that leave me? I revisited my Merck Manual and read about dermatomyositis. It sounded scary. It could put me in wheelchair. It could take my life. But for the time being, lupus reigned.

A year from this point I finally would have the right answers, but until that time God had more things in store for me – a visit with a naturopathic physician was on the horizon.

THE JOURNEY CONTINUES:

Through life’s uncertainties I have learned to lean on Christ. If I never had any problems, if I got all the answers I wanted, and if everyone agreed and got along . . . I’d be living in Pleasantville where everything is black and white. Boring! I want color! I want vibrancy! I want to live.

Regrettably, living involves pain. Living involves unanswered questions. Living involves power struggles between people who won’t agree. Life is a big mystery held in the hands of a big God who has something bigger in mind than we can comprehend. Trusting and waiting are hard, but they are what I must do.

Since ancient times no one has heard, no ear has perceived, no eye has seen any God besides you, who acts on behalf of those who wait for him (Isaiah 64:4).

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The Reality of Mommyhood

Real life stories

May 192010

Submitted by Nancy Sheridan, Fort Irwin, CA

I ran into a friend of mine while I was out with my family and it was a sweet run in…when we were parting she said I don’t know how you moms of multiple children do it! Well…for those of you who see me smiling with my children looking clean and behaving somewhat well, here’s the reality.

The toddler and preschool years were incredibly tough! I was grinning ear to ear when you saw me because I was so THANKFUL to God that I actually made it to the church! My kids behaved well because they knew they were under DEFCON 4 alert! I’ve had a child scream for 3 hours because she wanted her own way and I wouldn’t let her. I’ve had to drag a child to the bathroom at church after he threw himself on the ground to protest potty training (for 6 months). I homemade all their baby food, then went on a Wendy’s drive-thru stint (raising my cholesteral count for the first time in my life) when Steve deployed. I felt that God made them beautiful just so they would live long and prosper! I cried and gnashed my teeth. I had children that didn’t like wearing their poopy diapers! I had a child that clung to my leg and whined. I had one that touched and tasted everything and REALLY enjoyed crawling on the floor of public bathrooms…WHOAAAA!!!!

Then…they all hit at least 4 years old. And the world slowed down. The birds sang. And I could breathe. When the three turned 4, 5 and 6 I thought I had gone to heaven. The issues didn’t happen at breakneck speed and I wasn’t scrambling all over the floor. I made peace with my mommy brain or lack thereof. My children began to listen and some of my hard work started paying off. My husband came home from Iraq. I began to cook again. Our family was reunited and mending. Then along came my son Nathan and a house addition. In actuality, peace came to our home. God granted it to us and I receive it with open arms. We made it through some storms!

So when you see me smiling and floating on air as I show off my chubby bundle of joy…know that this season I’m thoroughly enjoying came with a price…a lot of hard work, a lot of time flat on my face before God, and a lot of blood sweat and tears. Literally. And yes, now I am having the time of my life! I can certainly do all things with Christ who strengthens me!

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Journey of Transformation, Part 22

Jesus Answers, Life Happens, Life Happens Jesus Answers, Real life stories, Testimonies

May 132010

The God of All Comfort

On the heels of the Halloween caper were more joy-filled moments. Judy and I got to spend a lot of time together which wouldn’t have happened under different circumstances. We listened to my Matthew Ward CD for a dose of encouragement and inspiration, and we heard good Bible teaching from the likes of Dr. Charles Stanley, Chuck Swindoll, and others. We clung to the words of hope spoken by these godly men as if clinging to life itself.

God will often give me a message from a sound preacher or teacher at just the right time to affirm something He’s taught me, or to encourage my heart. Back in November 2001 He did that through Chuck Swindoll. Chuck described trials other people had endured as he worked through 2 Corinthians 1:3-11, a passage titled The God of All Comfort.

At that time I was miserable, thin and weak, had calcifications developing on my knuckles and toes, and burning fingers that had to be covered with band aids every day. Although this wasn’t anywhere near how bad my condition would get, it was bad enough and it was all I knew.

As I listened to Chuck speak Paul’s words to the Corinthian church I was able to relate. He described much suffering including physical and emotional anguish. In verse 8 Paul mentioned the hardships he and his cohorts endured while in Asia and he even said, “We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired even of life.” I had those moments. I despaired of life itself.

But I had hope. I knew without a doubt that God had plans to use my tribulation to comfort and encourage other people. Eventually He would turn this ordeal into something purposeful, worthwhile, and life changing. When? I had no idea. How? That was an even greater mystery. The answers to those questions would be revealed at a later time, but there was an immediate purpose for me and my sister made clear in verse 9: “Indeed, in our hearts we felt the sentence of death. But this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God, who raises the dead.” Despite the urgency of our trials, God wanted us to rely on Him, not on the obvious earthly sources. Namely, doctors, ourselves, or other people. He is the source of all.

The pain we endure always has a purpose. Wrenching our brains to figure it out is futile as I have learned. But I’m desperate for purpose and meaning. I need to know that every bit of misery, loss, heartache, anguish, illness, weakness, hardship, and agony will produce something useful not only for me but for others. Isn’t that why we’re here?

First and foremost we’re here to be in relationship with God through Jesus Christ, but we are the tools He uses to minister to others. Quite often it’s our mutual suffering that lends us credibility with those who need His touch. He has invited us to partner with Him in His grand scheme of salvation and redemption. Through this partnership He uses our suffering.

I felt a call, a purpose, back then. As my body grew weaker my heart grew stronger with the expectation that God would use me one day to make a difference in the lives of others. In the meantime, I had a rocky road ahead of me and I don’t mean ice cream. The clash of the specialists was next.

THE JOURNEY CONTINUES:

2 Corinthians 1:10-11, “He has delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us. On him we have set our hope that he will continue to deliver us, as you help us by your prayers. Then many will give thanks on our behalf for the gracious favor granted us in answer to the prayers of many.”

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Brokenness, Atrophy, and Healing

Real life stories

May 122010

On April 21, I was working in our kitchen and took a nasty fall. Our old landline phone was finally calling it quits. I had picked up a new phone and was setting up the cables and wireless router, plugging the whole thing in to the electricity source. In order to get to the socket behind the shelf in the kitchen, I had to move a plastic box we use for food storage. Typically, the box is on a shelf, but because I needed to move it to get to the electric socket, it was out in the open. I was up on a chair (don’t judge….), and while I was not unbalanced on the chair, as I was stepping out of it, I stepped onto the plastic box. My right foot went forward. The rest of me went flying backwards, breaking my left radius. While I was screaming, my daughter brought me an ice pack and called my mother-in-law.

A trip to the ER confirmed my fears. My left wrist was broken badly. A phone call to my own mother and a good dose of pain meds comforted me for a while, plus the visit of two friends from church and the prayers of many. I was set for surgery within a few days, and once surgery was complete, the pain in my left hand immediately reminded me of what our Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, must’ve felt like in some small way when the nails were in his hands. He ministered to me in my pain; I connected with Him in His isolation.

A week after surgery I began physical therapy. I’m taking it slowly and am trusting that the methods of science and the providence of God will cause His will to be done in my life. And in my wrist. Please continue to pray for complete use. At least I can type with both hands, and that’s an answer to prayer! How can I keep up with blogs and facebook with just one hand?! LOL

My left arm felt like a bag of mush. The physical therapist mentioned that muscles will often atrophy within twenty-four hours of not being used. My mind automatically went into blogging mode, and I started thinking about how that applies to us spiritually.

What happens to us if we neglect God’s written Word for a day? A week? A month?

What happens to us if we do not come to Him in prayer?

What happens when we make a choice not to join ourselves to Him through the Lord’s Supper or make little of His words to us to be baptized?

What happens when we make poor choices in friends or lifestyle?

We atrophy. Just like the arm muscles after two weeks in a sling. Just like my left thumb that doesn’t want to cooperate with the rest of me.

And so we heal. My hand heals. Our hearts heal as we come back to the author and finisher of our faith, even Jesus Christ. Let Him heal you today of all that has been broken. Of all that has atrophied from a time of misuse and neglect. Of all that is in need of healing today. He is the Great Physician, our Jehovah Rapha!

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Journey of Transformation, Part 21

Jesus Answers, Life Happens, Life Happens Jesus Answers, Real life stories, Testimonies

May 062010

(For those just joining us, here’s a brief recap of major issues that arose between January 2000 and April 2001: Red facial rash; swollen, inflamed gum tissue; fatigue; increasing weakness in my legs; weight loss; significant hair loss with bald spots; and the new development of hard white lumps under my skin that caused severe pain. The tentative diagnoses were systemic lupus erythematosis, Raynaud’s syndrome, and hypothyroidism.)

A Photo and a Bag

It was October 2001 and the time had come for me to renew my driver’s license. I adorned myself with a hat to hide the humiliating appearance of my head. The red rash on my face had worsened and my nose was swollen. I had cut my hair to get rid of the straggles but it looked scary anyway.

Mom took me to the DMV. When picture time came I pleaded with the woman to let me leave my hat on, but no, I had to take it off. There I was with no hat, flat sparse hair, red rash and swollen nose. To top it off I had a mark on my forehead from the hat rim.

The woman behind the camera was ready to shoot. I was ready to die. I fought to hold back the tears as I cracked an obligatory smile. Click. Beautiful. For nine years I’ve had that license in my wallet. Fortunately, I haven’t had to pull it out very often. I guess that’s why I never thought to get the photo retaken. Besides, I was too sick to care.

The really sad part about my appearance at the time is that I looked like the actor Michael Keaton as his character Beetlejuice, especially when my hair was freshly washed and stood straight up. That was my perception which might have been slightly distorted through the lens of a broken self image.

On a lighter note, through the pain and misery there were moments of relief and fun. When Halloween arrived, my mother decided that she, my sister, my aunt and I should go trick or treating through the townhome complex.

Back then Wal-Mart used grocery bags that had big smiley faces on them. Mom got each of us a Wal-Mart bag to put over our head. I had no qualms about putting a bag over my head after the incident at the DMV so I willingly went along with the plan.

My only concern was that neighbors might have thought we were killers coming to get them since we weren’t exactly children. And instead of handing us treats they’d call the cops and we’d spend Halloween in jail. In light of this we only rang doorbells of those neighbors my parents knew.

When we rang the first doorbell a man answered. His eyes expanded, his eyebrows rose, his mouth opened and before he could say anything my mother announced, “Hi Bill. It’s Elaine. Trick or Treat!” The shock took a moment to lift. Then a glimmer of light crossed his face as recognition of a name he’d heard before landed on his lips, “Oh, Elaine. I wondered who was at my door. The Wal-Mart bags are cute.”

Whew. See what I’m saying. That was a close call. Bill’s immediate reaction was exactly what I’d feared. Fortunately Mom spoke up before something really scary could happen. To avoid frightening the entire complex we only went to two other houses. These folks appeared equally stunned. At the last house we took off our bags and had a good laugh.

I find it fascinating that during some of the worst times in my life I’ve had some of the brightest moments. That’s God’s way of easing a heavy burden and showing me how to live with peace and joy in the midst of suffering. Only He can make that happen.

THE JOURNEY CONTINUES:

Stay connected for more. There is joy and blessing woven through the trial. But those who suffer he delivers in their suffering; he speaks to them in their affliction. Job 36:15

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Journey of Transformation, Part 20

Life Happens, Life Happens Jesus Answers, Real life stories, Testimonies, Uncategorized

Apr 292010

The Wait Ends

The lab results finally came and they were normal. Soon morphine infused into my IV would provide relief. But the pain got so far ahead of me that two milligrams did nothing to ease it. Four milligrams didn’t work. Six milligrams helped. I had a total of eight. I knew that amount would make me sick.

To the nurse standing next to my lovely black plastic bed I said, “I think I’ll need an anti-nausea medication.” What did he say? “Okay. Let me know if you think you’re gonna throw up.” Then he departed.

Possible responses swirled around my brain with nowhere to land. This is what I should have said: “Okay, no problem. At the moment I sense I’m going to hurl I’ll jump off this bed and go on a nurse hunt. I’m sure I’ll find you in time for you to gather the supplies, get the doctor’s permission, accompany me back to the bed, and inject the medication into my IV. By then the nausea will have subsided and all will be well. I’m sure that’s how this will go down.”

Moments later it all came up. A big splash of water and morphine erupted from my stomach. It landed on the black plastic bed. Since there was no food in my stomach it wasn’t as miserable as barfing after a big meal. Even so, a technician had to clean it up. She was lucky it was fluid, not chunks.

Forgive my sarcasm. I have a hard time with stupidity. Comedian Bill Engvall has it right when he says, “Here’s your sign.” Sometimes people say and do things that just don’t make any sense. Excuse me but vomit won’t wait. When the stomach is ready to expel its contents you don’t have a choice but to let her rip. Any nurse ought to know that.

After my episode of expulsion I understood firsthand why the beds were covered with thick black plastic and not lovely linens. Someone would end up doing a lot of laundry, and who has time for laundry when they’re busy saving lives and killing pain? And at last my pain was killed. There’s nothing like relief from prolonged severe pain.

God can do that in our hearts and souls. He has a way of easing intense heartache so we don’t slide into despair. I would experience this in years to come. For now — October 2001 — I had to tend to my thumb.

Had I been able to see the future this trip to the ER would have seemed like a trip to Disneyland. The worst phase of my transformational journey was on its way.

THE JOURNEY CONTINUES:

We live in a desperately broken world. It’s easy to lose hope and enter periods of grief at every turn if we let ourselves. Our only true hope is found in Jesus Christ who has warned us of trials and tribulations, but who also has overcome them — I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world. (John 16:33)

When I feel overcome by suffering or grief, or I’m angry at God, or I don’t feel like praying, I force myself to grab my Bible and open to the Psalms. Supernaturally, as I read, I feel the tension in my body subside and God’s indescribable peace soothes me. Some of my favorites: Psalm 10, 18, 25, 27, 31, 35, 37, 40, 41, 55-57, 91, 103, 139-145. Dive in to the book of Psalms this week and let the Holy Spirit soothe your soul with His peace.

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Journey of Transformation, Part 19

Jesus Answers, Life Happens, Life Happens Jesus Answers, Real life stories, Testimonies

Apr 222010

Waiting for Relief

The ER doctor inquired while assessing the condition of my thumb,“Why is your thumb black and how long has it been that way?” My response eased his furrowed brow, “My mother thought that applying a poultice to the area would draw out any infection. We just applied it today.”

Now more amused than concerned, he stated, “At least the black color isn’t from necrotic tissue. I thought you might lose your thumb.” Then he proceeded to clean off the sticky black stuff and asked me to sit in the waiting area – without pain killers.

Dad and I took seats. We waited. We sat. We waited more. I don’t think the ER staff took me seriously. Eight hours went by and the tears rolled. During those hours I never saw anyone having a heart attack or bleeding profusely. Those cases are always taken first. If they aren’t present who goes next? Apparently people in extreme pain go last.

It was hard to tell why the other people were there. They sat calmly like they were waiting for haircuts. None of them appeared to be hurting. Was I dismissed because my excruciating pain came from an area the size of a large pin head? Did the size matter in their minds? Did they think I was a wimp with a low pain threshold? That’s how I felt.

Finally, around 8 p.m. I was taken to an area partitioned by a curtain and told to lie down on a bed covered with thick black plastic. It was creepy. It reminded of death. I waited more. Then a male nurse wearing light green scrubs came in. He took my vital signs and asked with an air of doubt, “All this pain is coming from that?” as he gawked at my extended thumb.

My response to that insensitive nurse was a simple “yes” but if I had to relive that moment I would say something like this: “Yeah. Go get me an ice pick. Hold out your thumb. I’ll be glad to demonstrate for you how much pain you can have from an area this small!” I didn’t need questions and doubts. I needed morphine!

Once I had been placed behind the curtain I expected quick relief. But they had to take blood. Then they had to wait for results. All this time I waited – again without pain killers. They always like to get results before medicating a patient. Why? I don’t know. Maybe to test liver and kidney function to see if the organs can process the drug safely.

The day was so long and tiring I don’t remember if I prayed. I was too miserable to do anything but clench my teeth and cry. This was the first of several visits to the ER and it wasn’t over.

THE JOURNEY CONTINUES:

Why is life filled with pain? Sin. We have Adam and Eve to thank for trips to the ER. Otherwise we’d be enjoying pain-free living. As we all know, life brings more than physical pain. It brings emotional, mental, and even spiritual pain. Hard experiences can cause us to close our hearts toward God, especially when they seem to be without any worthwhile purpose. That’s when we are forced to choose – do we withdraw from Him or trust Him?

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Life Happens – Jesus Answers is a ongoing 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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Stewardship

Bits & Pieces, Real life stories

Apr 212010

Submitted by Mary Crow, Fort Gordon, Ga

I have been thinking about being a better steward a lot lately. It started with a PCS and has snowballed from there. When we got to our new duty station, we were uncomfortable due to the city like, everywhere. Of course, when setting up house, you also end up visiting various stores. I noticed that a few of these stores actually give a discount for using reusable bags or not using their plastic bags. Brilliant! There’re also a couple that charge for the bags. Again, brilliant! Not only does it make you stop and think about what you’re doing with your money, it makes you stop and think about what you’re doing with the environment. Well, that, and when you see plastic sacks drag racing around the parking lot of your favorite super center.

So, I bought a couple of reusable bags. There was a small problem. I always forgot them at home! Then I noticed the shopping bag recycling outside of the store. Getting rid of my plastic bags in a good way was somewhat freeing. So, whenever I forgot my cloth bags, I snagged a couple more since they were only a dollar apiece. One day, I was in a certain store, and noticed that they had bags that folded into a convenient purse-carrying size. Brilliant! That way I wasn’t cluttering my purse, and I wasn’t forgetting the bags either.

Now, I use reusable bags as much as possible. I keep them in my vehicle or right next to the door to grab when I leave, or both. I did have to convince a worker at one store that I didn’t need my glasses wrapped in plastic bags to keep them from breaking, but otherwise it has been seamless.

What’s next? Pray about what else can be change to become a better steward of this earth with which the Lord has blessed us!

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Journey of Transformation, Part 24

God and Doctors

A Clean, Well-Lighted Place for Books

Journey of Transformation, Part 23

Clash of the Specialists

The Reality of Mommyhood

Journey of Transformation, Part 22

The God of All Comfort

Brokenness, Atrophy, and Healing

Journey of Transformation, Part 21

A Photo and a Bag

Journey of Transformation, Part 20

The Wait Ends

Journey of Transformation, Part 19

Waiting for Relief

Stewardship

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