Nov 012010

The Monterey Peninsula is one of the most beautiful settings of God’s creation. The panoramic view of the great Pacific Ocean with its foamy white waves crashing in is a powerful site. On all three sides of the peninsula, a person can view the gradual climb the land makes beginning with the sand dunes, to the rolling hills, up to the backdrop of the dry, yellow mountains dotted with trees. God has blessed many military families stationed at the Naval Post Graduate School and the Defense Language Institute with this scenic landscape. My family is a recipient of this beautiful location.

It is in this setting that the Big Sur Half Marathon takes place every November. I decided to make this event a personal goal for my physical fitness and hope to accomplish it at the prime age of forty. It is a challenging goal for me considering I have never run more than five miles at one time.

The last few months I have been in training to condition my body for the long race. I always begin running from my house which takes me down a ‘big hill’ in the neighborhood. The path continues on streets that plateau and then are interspersed with gradual to steep inclines.

It is the hills that make me question my goal. They hurt so much to run up. The muscles in my legs burrrrn! My pounding heart and lungs feel as though they will burst as I gasp for air; and when I exert too much, I feel an overwhelming sensation of nausea and weak bladder (due to childbirth). Honestly, I usually walk the hills because of the pain and discomfort they cause me.

Why do there have to be hills in the neighborhood where I live? I want the easy roads. The hills do make the journey more challenging and help me to grow stronger. I notice I pray to God more when challenged by a hill than when I am running with ease. Sometimes I think of myself as the Little Engine who said, “I think I can, I think I can” when ascending a path.

The last stretch in my daily run is going up the ‘big hill’ to get to my house. It takes more than ‘thinking’ I can. I have to ‘believe’ I can make it up the hill. I have been running this path for several months. I haven’t collapsed without making it to the finish line yet. God gives me the strength and perseverance to make it home. The fact I have overcome the hills on the roads in my community builds my faith and confidence that when I face an ‘unknown’ hill, I will overcome it too.

Our lives as Christians are filled with many different roads; some are easy as we run along. However, every one of us encounters ‘hills’, trials or difficult times that take our breath away as we pace through life. Don’t be crippled by the pain and discomfort of trials. Pick up your feet and continue to walk or run. You won’t collapse! Believe and know that Jesus is with you every step of the way. Don’t be the Little Engine who thinks he can overcome the hills by his own power. Believe in the power of God and have faith in Jesus; you will overcome the hills in His strength!

God does have a goal and purpose: The purpose of the hills is to strengthen your faith and reliance upon Him. You will grow stronger, more conditioned and spiritually fit as a woman of God and be able to persevere and make it to the finish line on the road of life-home in heaven. God won’t ask you to run more than you can endure….And the promised reward in this race is eternal life with the Almighty God and Savior, Jesus Christ!!!

Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those that love him. (James 1:12)

By Laura Miller 2007

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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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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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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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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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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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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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A Trip of Another Kind

August 2001 arrived and my parents came to Tennessee to visit. Dad planned to see his brother, my Uncle Wayne. Mom, being a former realtor, was interested in seeing homes in the area just for kicks. We didn’t have a spare bedroom so they stayed at the Best Western. Our little rented house had just enough room for me, Steve, and Bridgette.

Steve was expected to depart for Afghanistan so I rode back to Colorado with Mom and Dad following their brief visit. My sister Judy lived with them at the time. We were stunned when she was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. How strange that both of us would be hit with autoimmune diseases at the same time. We distinctly remembered a conversation we’d had a year earlier. While sitting around with family in my parents’ living room we expressed sympathy over problems other people were having. We marveled, with gratitude, that our family didn’t have any major traumas up to that point.

Was there something wrong with having a grateful heart? Does gratitude breed affliction, suffering, and sorrow? It was as if our expressions of gratitude triggered some bizarre chain of events. Like we were being punished, or challenged, for being grateful. Did God perceive it as prideful? We weren’t proud. We were relieved. It felt like He couldn’t possibly let us slide by without problems – as if everyone had to endure hardship at some point. Were we not dedicated enough to Him? What in the world did we do wrong? We couldn’t figure out what was happening. The timing was strange.

Have you ever said something and wished you could take it back? That’s how I felt about my expressions of gratitude. Was it possible that in our hearts we believed we must have been doing something right in order to escape God’s chastisement? Was that so horrible? There was no judgment or condemnation toward the other people. There was no comparison. We just felt grateful. Did these afflictions even have anything to do with what we did or didn’t do? Or was it just part of God’s plan for our lives that happened to manifest itself at that particular time? Questions mounted but answers remained elusive. Clearly, I had a lot to learn about God and how He operates in our lives. Lessons would be learned as devastation increased.

One September morning I discovered a strange white spot on the ball of my left thumb. It couldn’t be squeezed like a pimple. Nothing would come out. It began to hurt. Mom, in all her wisdom, suggested that I put a poultice on it to draw out what appeared to be pus. It didn’t work. The pain increased and nothing could extinguish it. When it approached an intolerable level I announced to my dad that we better take a trip to the ER at the Air Force Academy.

What transpired that day was just the beginning of inexplicable misery to come.

THE JOURNEY CONTINUES:

When you don’t know why something is happening and you feel like you’re being punished, cast your cares on Jesus. Get real. Get honest. Don’t be afraid of irreverence. He created you. He knows what’s in your heart already. Express it. He’s the only one you can safely unload your burdens on. He’s the only one who can do anything about your problem, and He has a reason for allowing it. Cry out to Him and let Him take you deeper into the realm of spiritual maturity and intimacy.

Cast your cares on the Lord and He will sustain you; He will never let the righteous fall. Psalm 55:22

Cast all your anxiety on Him because He cares for you. 1 Peter 5:7

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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

God began a painful transformational process in me over ten years ago. Recently He’s been targeting ingrained habits, priorities, and mindsets. Each day I must choose to let Him kill the old sin nature. I must choose to walk in a new direction. And I must choose between bondage and freedom.

The Lord’s most effective way to get my attention is to allow physical weariness. He knows me so well. Choices I make largely are based on how I feel physically. I cannot ignore how I feel nor can I push myself or rush His process. I learned long ago to request that He allow a trial to last as long as necessary so I could learn the lesson and prevent enduring it again in the future.

He has been faithful, but trials wear me out when they continue endlessly. It’s as if the Holy Spirit has embarked on a remodeling project. Maybe I should wear a shirt that says, “Under God’s Construction.” That would explain my grimace. I can feel the old nature dying as the Spirit chips away. This reminds me of the passage in Romans 8:36-37 – “As it is written:

For your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.’

“No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.”

To truly be more than a conqueror through this miserable process, I must throw myself at Christ’s feet in submission and receive the good work He’s doing within me. Then I will reap the rewards of deeper spiritual maturity, increased faith, greater character, and fulfillment of His plans for my life. Each day brings the opportunity to do a new thing, reject bondage, and choose freedom.

What is God doing within you today that you want to resist? Let Him place you on His Potter’s wheel and mold you into the beautiful creation He designed you to be. The results will be worth it.

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Contradictory Doc

The ob/gyn who discovered my miscarriage had contacted my friend, called the Red Cross, and sent me to a different ob/gyn who would perform the D & C. This new doctor explained the importance of getting it done immediately to prevent complications over the weekend. So, there I was on Friday, April 20, 2001, undergoing the first phase of preparation. I won’t bother describing it here. It’s a tad indelicate.

While I finished getting dressed my friend arrived. She pulled back the curtain, hugged me, and I let out a brief sob. After exchanging a few sorrowful words, we took a seat on the brown leather couch in the doctor’s office. While he was filling out paperwork I gazed at the décor on his walls and desk. It suggested he was a Christian; and this was enough to ease my anxiety since I was about to go under his knife. But it wasn’t long before my encouragement degenerated.

I don’t recall our conversation exactly, but as we chatted about the procedure he said something that sent my heart plummeting: “It was only a blob.” I could feel my face stretch lengthwise as my eyebrows rose, my eyes grew larger, and my mouth fell open. I was so dumbfounded I couldn’t audibly question his ridiculous comment. My innards stirred. If I hadn’t been so stunned I probably would have broken into another atrocious wailing episode.

What’s the deal? Was this guy a Christian or not? Doesn’t he understand that a human life begins at conception? My brain shouted, It wasn’t a blob! How can you say that?! Images of that first sonogram raced through my mind as I recalled the head, the heartbeat, and the clearly formed arms, legs, hands and feet. The baby kicked vigorously. “It” was not a blob. He was a baby!

The doctor’s hand was busy writing and his eyes followed his pen. My eyes glared at him with disgust. The contradictions between his apparent beliefs and his words astounded me. Could it be that he was in the habit of making this offhanded comment to women who had miscarriages just to minimize their loss? Was this his lame way of attempting to assuage their pain? It did the opposite.

When he was finished with the paperwork he handed it to me and told me to go to admitting where I had to fill out more paperwork. What a weird feeling. I still couldn’t comprehend what was happening. My friend and her husband sat with me as I completed the forms. I valued their presence. My mother and sister were in Colorado and they still hadn’t heard. Neither had Steve but he wouldn’t be able to fly from Kansas to Tennessee in time to be with me anyway.

Sitting in the waiting area anticipating the procedure made me restless. I felt so many emotions I wasn’t sure which one to pick. Yet, despite the emotional upheaval, I sensed an inner stability and courage that couldn’t have come from me. God was strengthening me with His special brand of peace that defies explanation. And that wasn’t all He did. Awaiting my discovery was a gift He planted in my hospital room months before just for me.

TO BE CONTINUED:

Stay connected! In the next installment God displays His compassion and sovereignty. Even when He allows hard things in our lives He reveals His loving kindness. As difficult as it is to accept sometimes, Romans 8:28 really is true. This week reflect on what God has done in your life and let Him show you where He has brought good out of hardship, sorrow and pain.

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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

Submitted by Mary Crow

Today, we had Praise Team practice to prepare for the next two weeks of PWOC. I had just enjoyed a wonderful time with a handful of some of my favorite ladies while praising the Lord. I don’t think it gets much better than that! Anyway, I was driving, and had to drop a friend off at her house before rushing home to grab a late lunch. Suddenly, something in my back was tweaked and it hurt to even breathe. I had been putting off getting a check-up on an old injury, and it now had escalated beyond being ignored.

I dropped her off and came home. After feeding my three year old something, I changed while hoping that it would dissipate. It didn’t. I chose super-comfortable clothes and grabbed a sandwich, then sat still. Still, it did not stop. I had no choice but to go and wait at my friend’s house for kids from the bus (our daily ritual). The pain was unrelenting. Luckily, I recalled that I had pizza in the freezer. Thank the Lord that I didn’t have to cook dinner.

Hours later, after adding hefty pain killers, heating pad treatments, and sitting still as much as I could despite the strong drive I’ve had lately to clean and purge due to an upcoming PCS, I prayed. Why didn’t I do that first? Because life got in the way. I used Facebook as the wonderful tool that it is to ask for prayer. It’s still hurting, though, even through everything.

I finally cracked open my bible and began to read. The most interesting thing happened when I started turning the pages of the Word of God. Verses started jumping out at me like nothing as I flipped around through my bible.
Then I would still have this consolation—my joy in unrelenting pain—that I had not denied the words of the Holy One.(Job 6:10)
Yet if I speak, my pain is not relieved; and if I refrain, it does not go away.(Job 16:6) Night pierces my bones; my gnawing pains never rest.(Job 30:17) Job has been where I am now. My back is filled with searing pain; there is no health in my body. (Psalm 38:7) For I am about to fall, and my pain is ever with me. (Psalm 38:17) I am in pain and distress; may your salvation, O God, protect me. (Psalm 69:29) David has, too. So has Jesus, as we all have been taught.

While my head knows that there is nothing new under the sun, sometimes my heart doesn’t want to believe it or cannot fathom the idea. Sometimes, it takes something as out-of-control as an agonizing pain, or a small annoyance to make us do what we were meant to do. I should know this from those scripture examples. Job and David didn’t have the Holy Spirit leading them the way I do, nor did they have a bible to turn to in times of trouble. Where did they turn? Directly to God.

The next time that I have a problem, I won’t turn to worldly things. I won’t run to a friend, lean on my spouse, or rely on medicine to fix me. I’ll go directly to my Daddy, my Heavenly Father. I’ll curl up in His lap. I’ll beg for His comfort. I’ll request His healing. He should be the one who I turn to first, just like my daughter turns to her parents when she is in need. After all, didn’t Jesus say to come as a child?

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