Close to the Broken Hearted

As I write this, I am keenly aware that one year ago, I was at a graveside, saying farewell to my mother. Grieving comes in waves. I rejoice that she is in heaven, and I rejoice that she had a good, long life, and that she didn’t suffer very long at the end. But there is still an ache– wanting to share a memory or a laugh and knowing she isn’t here; questions I didn’t know I had, but now she can’t answer them; just missing her voice and her smile. My father has been gone for 25 years, and the same ache still hits at odd moments.

Sometimes, grieving brings us closer to God. At other times, we can let our grief drive us away from God. But God doesn’t move. He is ever-present. And He reminds us that He is “close to the broken hearted” (Psalm 34:18). When we are grieving, that is a blessed reminder. Grief tends to isolate us. “No one understands…” “Laugh, and the whole world laughs with you; cry, and you cry alone.” We see the “rest of the world” enjoying life, seemingly untouched by sorrow, and we feel abandoned twice over.

As Christians, we are called to follow Jesus’ example, and be close to the broken hearted. We should be the ones ready with a hug, a listening ear, and a shoulder to cry on. We should be the ones who, like the friends of Job (before they offered ill-advised ‘counsel’) are willing to sit with our suffering friends for days at a time, offering the comfort of solidarity and ‘presence.’

My family was blessed with a host of Christian friends and family who comforted us in the days and weeks after Mom’s passing. They still ask. They still share memories. They still pray for us. And in return, we do the same. God does not want any of us to suffer alone.

And this is also true for those who suffer a broken heart for other reasons– divorce, the loss of a home to fire or flood, the loss of a job, a wayward son or daughter– it is important for us to draw strength from others, and offer strength in our turn. But the source of our strength is Jesus, who suffered on our behalf, and rose victorious over death and separation. When “no one” understands, He DOES. When the world leaves us grieving alone, He is THERE. And when we see someone else grieving and suffering, and we don’t know what to do– He gives us the strength and the compassion to reach beyond our own resources and offer comfort.

On our own, we can be like Job’s friends– after awhile, we try to offer solutions, explanations, even judgment about another’s grief. “It’s time to move on.” “Just get over it.” “Well, if only you had…” None of these are helpful. Jesus never said any of those things to the people He came to comfort. Instead, He encouraged them to look to Him as the “resurrection and the life.” (see John 11:25).

Today, let us do the same. There are hurting people all around us. Let’s be an encouragement to others to embrace life– even when we are broken hearted.

March 4, 2024 0

Mumbled Prayers

As I write this, I’m having an “off” day. I don’t feel well. I don’t particularly feel like worshipping or saying joyful prayers. I don’t even feel particularly like saying a prayer. But I will pray– even if it’s just a mumble or a groan.

God meets us where we are. He is not just the God of the joyful and productive; the “shiny, happy people,” or the ones who feel like overcomers. God is the God of the hurting; the God of the lonely; the God of those who are sad, tired, and feeling “off.” Of course, God doesn’t want me to go through life this way. I will have better days– days of accomplishments and celebration. But God does not leave me alone when I am grumpy, upset, or “blue.” He is right beside me, surrounding me with His presence. So I can mumble today, even if I sang yesterday or cry out in anguish tomorrow.

Prayer is a pursuit for every day– not just when we “feel like it” or when we are desperate for answers. It is a discipline. If I choose not to pray today, I may more easily choose not to pray tomorrow, or the next day. And God will still be waiting there, patiently, whether I mumble or give Him the “silent treatment.” Because prayer is more than just a pursuit and a discipline. It is part of a relationship. God already knows me intimately, but He wants ME to know HIM as well. And He wants me to know and experience His Love– even when I don’t feel it; even when I know I’m not very loveable. And that knowledge–that enduring relationship–will carry me through days like today. I can mumble, or whisper all the lies and sadness I feel on a particular day, but God’s presence will break through and wrap me in the cloak of Truth–the everlasting Truth of His Love and Faithfulness. Feelings will pass, but Faithfulness endures. And I pray to the God who is Eternally Faithful–even when I am temporarily feeling faithless and far away.

God is an expert at turning mumbles into melodies!

August 18, 2023 0

An Encouraging Word

It can be a dog-eat-dog kind of world out there. Every day, I hear of people who are facing difficult and trying circumstances– health issues, loss of a job or home, loss of a family member or close friend, depression, oppression, harassment, rebellious or estranged children, abuse, academic failures, exhaustion from being provider, caregiver, etc.– even just daily stress. It can really take a toll. But it becomes even more difficult when we isolate ourselves.

When I get stressed, I tend to withdraw. I don’t want others to think of me as a failure, or to think less of me in my struggles. But this is one of the worst things I can do. First, it means more worry and stress because I’m bearing the burden alone! Second, it forces me to cover up my level of anxiety or depression be pretending that things are fine when they aren’t. That would all be bad enough, but it gets worse. Isolating means my focus turns inward– my problems become bigger, not smaller; I’m so close to the problem, I’m not able to “look outside the box” for solutions, because my box keeps closing in on me. I can’t see beyond my circumstances to understand if they are temporary, or if they necessitate some life changes on the other side of whatever crisis I’m dealing with. And, worst of all, the only voice I listen to is my own, rehearsing and reminding me of the difficulties or failures I’m facing. What opportunities do I miss, not only to hear an encouraging word, but to share one with someone else?!

We all need an encouraging word now and then; a voice telling us that we are not alone; that all is not lost; that there is hope. I have been blessed with wonderful family, friends, and neighbors who are great about encouraging me, even when I try to shut them out or pretend that everything is grand. Sometimes that encouragement comes through conversation; sometimes a card or text message or a shared piece of scripture; sometimes it comes through prayer. I may not even know who prayed, or what words they used until days or weeks later, but their faithfulness in praying has become a lifeline when I feel isolated and overwhelmed.

This does not negate my need to pray and ask God for wisdom, healing, or strength for myself, nor does it suggest that God doesn’t answer my prayers. Instead, it shows a pattern– God often answers our prayers by incorporating and using those around us. God’s goodness and his love are shown best in teamwork. We run the race to win, but we race together as teammates, not competitors. We share sorrows, struggles, and joys. We come alongside; we lift others up, and they lift us up in return.

Encouragement does so much, we sometimes underestimate its power. In a world of sniping, criticism, name-calling, and finger-pointing, encouragement does the following:

It lets someone know that they are seen and heard– that they are being noticed, thought of, and valued. This shouldn’t be uncommon, but in a world where we are connected to so many be technology, and to so few face-to-face, it is HUGE!
It give us perspective to realize that we are not alone in our problems and not unique in facing difficulties.
It reminds us that hope and help are gifts to be shared, not something we must earn.
It gives us a purpose and a mission to be part of God’s redemptive work– Jesus gave encouragement and hope to those who needed it most, not to those who “deserved” it.

It can be a dog-eat-dog world out there, but we are not dogs. We are children of the King. Let’s send out some encouraging words today!

A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in a setting of silver. (Proverbs 25:11 (ESV)

Also see James 5:13-16 on praying for one another.

August 11, 2023 0

Searching for the “Oh!”

I like to play Scrabble, and other word games. Sometimes, in order to make a certain word in Scrabble, you need to wait for an opportunity and a particular tile. It can be very frustrating to play when you have only consonants or only vowels. You need both to make most words. Vowel tiles are not worth as much as the consonants. And so most players tend to discount them. After all, if someone else has made a word, you can use the vowel from their word to make yours– sometimes. But sometimes, you really need a vowel in the right position to make your word. Sometimes, you need a particular vowel. The other day, I was hoping for an “o.” Instead, I had four “i”s! I could try to make use of the vowels I had, or lose a turn and trade in my “i”s for other letters– which might all be consonants!

Life is not a game of Scrabble. But there are times when we are looking for something to help make sense of life. It seems like whatever “hand” we’ve been given adds up to nonsense. We need an “o” to make it work. Deep down, though, I think most of the time, we really need an “OH!” We need to look beyond whatever we have, and see the wonderful things God has already done in and around and through us.

As I was driving to my doctor’s appointment the other day, it was hazy and cool for late June. It could have felt depressing or even oppressive. But I was listening to a song on the radio. The singer pointed out that God’s goodness, His Mercy, and His artistry are all around us in nature– the sky, the singing of birds, the colors of the sunrise or sunset, the majesty of trees or mountains, the comfort of a gentle rain–and suddenly, I found my “OH!” moment. Recent rains had brought a newer, deeper shade of green to the leaves, and had caused the corn and beans in the fields to begin springing up. The haze could not hide all the life and growth going on all around me. God’s magnificence was there for anyone to see.

Sometimes, I try to substitute an “I” for the “Oh!” Instead of focusing on the SON, I fall into SIN. When I look at what I have done, or the plans or dreams I have, it can fall short. I can’t make the stars shine. I can’t create a forest, or sing a song more beautiful than a babbling brook through a meadow of flowers. My best efforts with “i” aren’t worth much. But, OH!, what God can do! OH! What God has done! And it’s this same God who loves me and knows my name!

Are you having a “hazy” day? Are you looking around for something? Something clear, and beautiful, and worthwhile? Maybe, if you have an old Scrabble game, you could put an “o” tile in your pocket or purse to remind you to see the “OH!” all around you today!

²⁰For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse. ²¹For although they knew God, they neither glorified him as God nor gave thanks to him, but their thinking became futile and their foolish hearts were darkened.
Romans 1:20-21 (NIV)

June 28, 2023 0

When I Can’t Do “All Things…”

^10-14I’m glad in God, far happier than you would ever guess—happy that you’re again showing such strong concern for me. Not that you ever quit praying and thinking about me. You just had no chance to show it. Actually, I don’t have a sense of needing anything personally. I’ve learned by now to be quite content whatever my circumstances. I’m just as happy with little as with much, with much as with little. I’ve found the recipe for being happy whether full or hungry, hands full or hands empty. Whatever I have, wherever I am, I can make it through anything in the One who makes me who I am. I don’t mean that your help didn’t mean a lot to me—it did. It was a beautiful thing that you came alongside me in my troubles.
Philippians 4:10-14 (The Message)

I know many Christians who quote Philippians 4:13–generally in the King James or New King James versions: “I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens (strengtheneth) me.” It is a powerful verse, but taken out of context, it can become twisted and lead to unrealistic expectations. In context, Paul is not talking about achievement, but about endurance. “I can endure all things…” or “I can cope with all circumstances…” is a better understanding, which is why I chose to quote from The Message, instead of another translation. Many times, however, we co-opt this familiar verse to fill our calendar with busy plans for our own achievements, trusting in God to give us the strength to multi-task our way past exhaustion. We end up frustrated, disappointed, and even questioning our faith.

God never meant for any of us to do “all things..” In fact, He wants us to trust Him to direct our paths– even when He directs us away from achievement and into rest or even need. Paul was a doer. He loved to be on the road, preaching and teaching, building up churches, and making new converts. But the letter to the Philippian believers was written from a jail cell. Paul could not be there to minister to them, but they had ministered to him, instead! Paul was thanking his friends for the help they gave him, not because he was abandoned or starving, but because their gifts reminded him of their care for him, and of God’s care for all of us. God had given Paul a season of rest from the road– imposed rest, but rest that gave him time to reflect on God’s goodness in solitude.

When we set ourselves up to “do all things,” it usually means “all the things I think I can or ought to do,” or “all the things I am asked or expected to do as a volunteer or a friend or neighbor or parent…” God is more concerned with our “being” than our “doing.” He wants us to be seeking after righteousness, not self-righteousness. He wants us to be growing in our love for others– even if we can’t “do it all.” He wants us to follow Him, not impress Him!

Photo by Karolina Grabowska on Pexels.com

I’m in a season of “can’t” right now. It’s not that I can’t do anything, but I can’t do “all things.” That’s not a result of my lacking faith or having a wrong view of God– God CAN do anything and “everything.” But I can’t. And God’s plan isn’t to empower me to be autonomous, self-sustaining, or self-righteous. I NEED others! And I NEED Him! What I CAN do, is trust in His timing and His resources to be sufficient for my daily needs. I can get “enough” done today, with God’s wisdom and strength. I can do “enough” to overcome anxiety or depression– with the help that God provides. That may mean allowing someone else to do simple tasks that I can’t do today. It may mean accepting medical help. It may mean changing my schedule or my expectations for today. But I can endure all the setbacks, and the moments of grief or weakness that keep me from “doing” what I had planned. I can weather it all in the power of Christ. And so can you! If you are finding yourself in a season of “can’t,” don’t skim over Philippians 4– study it. Claim it! Christ’s power isn’t for those who “can.” It’s for those who ask!

It’s a great thing to have a “can-do” attitude. But sometimes, we need a season of “can’t do” in order to step back and see what we “can BE” in the power of Christ!

March 22, 2023 0

What Might Have Been…

One of my favorite movies is “It’s a Wonderful Life.” No matter how many times I watch it, it never gets old for me.

Oh, I know it’s in black and white, and it’s out-of-date. It’s politically incorrect on numerous levels, and it’s theologically incorrect, as well. But for all that, I think it has a deep wisdom we are sorely lacking, and I think what it says about the power of prayer cannot be dismissed.

Much of the movie is spent tracing the less-than-wonderful things that happen to George Bailey. George Bailey is the quintessential “nice-guy” who always seems to miss out–as a boy, he leaps into an icy river to save his brother’s life. His brother is saved, but George ends up losing the hearing in one ear. While his friends go off to college, George has to stay behind; when he finally saves enough money to enroll, he ends up having to give up his college plans to save the family business after the sudden death of his father. He loses out on business opportunities, and keeps losing skirmishes with his nemesis, the “scurvy spider” local magnate, Mr. Potter. Finally, on Christmas Eve, George has had enough. The weight of always doing “the right thing,” and watching others get ahead while he falls further behind, has taken its toll. When his absent-minded uncle loses $8000, George faces scandal and prison after all his years of frustrating hard work in a job he hates. After uncharacteristic angry outbursts and a short drinking binge, George is in utter meltdown. In desperation, he prays. It’s not an eloquent prayer, or an angry outburst. It’s a wimpy, doubtful, squeak of a prayer, “Dear Father in Heaven, I’m not a praying man, but if you’re up there and you can hear me, show me the way…show me the way.”

What the viewer knows, but George doesn’t, is that dozens of people he knows have all been praying for him. We get to hear the voices of his wife, his children, his friends and neighbors, all praying simple and heartfelt prayers. And we also know that God is at work– preparing to send an angel to help George. But in the bar, at the end of George’s tearful and tremulous prayer, God is silent.

Not only is God silent, but George’s downward spiral continues after his prayer. He gets punched in the jaw by a man he was arguing with earlier in the evening, and he doesn’t even have enough money to pay his bar tab. Driving away, drunk, he runs into a tree and gets yelled at. Reeling down the road and onto the bridge, where he intends to jump to his death, he almost gets hit by a truck.

While I like the sappy, happy ending of the movie, the incredible darkness and despair leading up to George’s encounter with Clarence, and the even darker “alternate universe” that George experiences are what keep me coming back to this movie– not because I’m a glutton for emotional wringers, but because George’s story is only wonderful when he gets to see it from God’s point of view. Mr. Potter tells George that he is worth more dead than alive. But Clarence shows George the true worth of his life, not as it might have been, but as it might NOT have been.

And so it is with our lives–all the “might-have-beens” and broken dreams and failures that weigh us down– God is NOT (as we so often picture Him) shaking His head and grumbling about our wasted potential and weakness. And often, the people we most fear to disappoint, our family and friends, are rooting for us to stay the course– to finish the race. God wants to wipe away all the seeming failures; all the “what-if”s and the “what might have been”s and replace them with the bigger picture of “what is happening around you”, “what really IS”, and “what can be.”*

There was never anything wrong with George’s dreams of traveling the world and becoming a successful builder of skyscrapers “a hundred stories tall.” George’s desire to have nice things for himself and his family was not evil, and, in fact, his ambition to do great things was not that different than Mr. Potter’s. But George’s choices, while “right” were not in his own immediate best interest. What Clarence showed George was not “what might have been” had George made other choices in his life. What he showed George was indeed far more wonderful– the ultimate IMPACT of George’s choices! God didn’t “take away” George’s dreams or ruin his life. But neither did He prevent him from making selfish choices or getting what he wanted in the moment. George’s life wasn’t wonderful because of what happened to him– though the ending is miraculous, and George gets toasted by his hero brother as “the richest man in town.” But what really made George’s life wonderful was that he was THERE– there to save his brother; there to fall in love with Mary; there to help and influence so many people; there to tuck his daughter into bed and “paste” the petals of her flower; even there to stand up to Mr. Potter when no one else did.

God answered George’s prayer. And He answered the prayers of his friends and family. But He didn’t answer in the way we would expect. In fact, George jokes with Clarence that the answer to his prayer was getting slugged in the jaw. But God’s answer came in the form of a childlike “angel” who struggles and questions his ability to make a difference– much like George himself. God didn’t answer the superficial aspect of George’s prayer– He didn’t show him the way to get $8,000. He didn’t show him the way to defeat Mr. Potter, or suddenly become more successful. But He did show George the way to look for “what is” and “what can be”, instead of the “what might have been.”

For anyone who has lost a friend or family member to suicide–my prayer is that we too, would find comfort and hope in the lives our loved ones lived, and not in the manner of their death. God is gracious and loving above all that we can imagine. Part of the hope and message of this movie for me is that, even if George had jumped at the end, his life was still wonderful in God’s eyes, just as it was to all who knew and loved him..

February 3, 2023 0

Joy(?) to The World

I don’t know about you, but I sometimes have problems with Advent Season. On the one hand, it’s a season of joy and wonder; a season of anticipation and expectation. But I find myself contemplating…and as the days get darker, earlier, and the snow falls, then melts, leaving everything brown and gray, I can’t seem to hang on to the joy. It slips through my fingers, leaving me thoughtful and even a little depressed.

I also find myself looking at the glitter and listening to the peppy music of the season and feeling as though all the “Merry” in Christmas is just a soap bubble, waiting to burst. I don’t watch much television, but it seems that every year the “holiday” specials and TV ads get more artificial and shallow. “Buy this!” “Turn up the Tunes!” “Wear THIS to the Holiday party!” “Eat this– Drink that!” “Get away from it all!” It’s more about escaping the ordinary, rather than celebrating the extraordinary gift of God’s Son. The more I try to get “into the Spirit” of the season, the more I seem to miss it…

It is important to remember that this extraordinary Joy came INTO and THROUGH the ordinary. The angels didn’t announce to the shepherds that they could escape their duties and run off to a vacation cruise; Mary and Joseph didn’t celebrate their first Christmas surrounded by lights and mugs of hot cocoa. The wise men didn’t have a brand new GPS device to help them find their destination, or tasty cookies and fruit baskets to make the journey more “fun.” This “good news of great joy” was the birth of a child– an ordinary event–except that THIS birth was the fulfillment of God’s Promise and the Way, the Truth, and the Life!

Many millions of people today will not have joyful circumstances to make the season “Merry and Bright.” But they can experience true Joy– the kind that comes from Knowing Jesus–and not just for a day or a season, but forever, in spite of difficulties, pain, and struggle. There IS joy in the journey, but it doesn’t always manifest as mirth and comfort.

Photo by Kampus Production on Pexels.com

This season, it is our privilege as Christians to offer a different level of Joy to the World–the Joy of forgiveness; the joy of belonging; the joy of eternal Hope and Peace. It may not be in laughter or singing. It may be in holding a hand at the side of a hospital bed. It may be in sharing tears with those who are suffering. It may be sharing a crust of bread with real thankfulness, instead of a feast with stress. Joy doesn’t have to be complicated. It doesn’t require wrapping paper sugar sprinkles. The best gifts we can give this season don’t have to be filled with merriment and laughter. They don’t have to be expensive or even filled with thoughtful intent. They should be the spontaneous response of love and compassion for those around us. Let’s give lots of hugs, smiles, and small tokens of respect and appreciation this year. After all, God’s great gift– the greatest of all– began as a tiny, wailing infant, hidden away in a spare stable, wrapped in rags. But “Behold!” It is still bringing great joy all over the world. (Luke 2:10)

Let’s not trade certain Joy for temporary mirth this season. Reflect on the Reason, and not just the Season!

December 9, 2022 0

Prayer on a Dreary Day

Father,,
Today is a dreary day.
It is not warm or sunny; it is not filled with joy or peace.
The house is a mess.
I’m not even dressed.
I feel emptied and drained.

And yet…

Even though I can’t see
Your glory in my surroundings,
I know You can see
The glory of eternity.
You see the brighter days ahead.
You are already there,
Celebrating.

You have not journeyed here to
Listen to my prayer…
Because You have always been here
Right beside me.
You are not put off by my
Dirt or disheveled appearance;
You are not unaware of my sadness–
You know my thoughts before I think them!
You know my emotions better than I know myself!

Today is a dreary day,
But it is just a speck in the fullness of
Your Eternal Light.
Shine into my darkness
Dispel the dreariness around me.
Help me to reflect, not the clouds,
But the Son!

Photo by Alena Shekhovtcova on Pexels.com

Thank you, Lord.
Even on a dreary day,
In Your presence, there is fullness of Joy–
Not the giddiness of a sunny springtime,
But the glow of a hearth-fire,
Sustaining me.

So my praise today may not explode
In bright colors and exclamations.
But it will be a steady and steadying
Ember–warm enough to survive
Ready for You to
Ignite tomorrow’s fresh flame!

November 18, 2022 0

In the Bleak Midwinter

It’s not actually midwinter just now. In fact, “winter” won’t officially begin for another few days. But it has been bleak around here.

I suffer from seasonal depression. In spite of the joy I know I should feel during this season; in spite of all the reasons I have to BE joyful, I have been in a funk. I’ve been physically ill, but even more, I’ve been mentally drained and emotionally overwhelmed for over a week. I’ve missed posting a couple of days recently, because I feel hypocritical writing about Christmas.

But I choose to write tonight about the enduring power of prayer. There are people praying for me, not because I’ve said anything about my condition, but because they are faithful in praying for people, and I happen to be one of them. The clouds are beginning to lift and I’m finding it easier to feel what I already know– that God is in control; that He cares; that He has a purpose beyond the sadness. It’s why I’m so passionate about praying and keeping a prayer log or prayer journal. I am one of those who pray for others, and I am one of those who are being prayed for–we lift each other up, even when–especially when–we don’t fully understand why.

Some may ask, “How can you say that prayer works if you are depressed? Doesn’t that just prove that prayer isn’t working?” Some people mock the power of prayer in the face of “bad” circumstances. The recent school shooting in my home state of Michigan, or the recent spate of tornadoes in Kentucky and other states are prime examples. Sincere people of faith are being mocked for saying that their “thoughts and prayers” are with the people who are suffering. Mockers say that thoughts and prayers are meaningless–otherwise, prayers should have prevented the events in question from ever happening. In the aftermath, only actions are of value.

In the face of disaster, distress, or depression, prayers may seem small and even meaningless. Most prayers don’t pack the power of a tornado, nor elicit such an immediate and dramatic response. My depression didn’t suddenly disappear the moment someone began praying for me; those whose homes and lives have been turned upside-down in the past days and weeks didn’t wake up this morning to find that it was just a bad dream. And prayer should be accompanied by thoughtful and compassionate action. But prayer heals– and healing takes time. God chooses to use the prayers of others to seep into our lives; to fortify us and draw us together. Actions may change the circumstances, but prayer changes the person. Prayer reaches beyond the circumstances and the limitations of our human nature.

So today, I will pray. Through the “funk,” through the pain, through the confusion and chaos of a troubled world, I will choose to pray. For those individuals listed in my journal; for those whose needs are posted online or made known to me some other way; for those whose names and faces come to mind throughout the day. Because it is God’s way. Because others are faithfully doing the same. Because, in the end, it brings joy and peace. Even when–especially when– things seem so bleak.

December 15, 2021 0

When Nothing Else Could Help…

Earlier this week, my mother celebrated her 88th birthday. Mom has survived more than most people can imagine. She was born in 1933, during the worst years of the Great Depression. She survived hunger and poverty, near-homelessness, and insecurity in her earliest years, despite my grandparents’ best efforts to provide for their family. She survived the upheaval of World War 2, when her father left to serve in the Navy and her mother worked long hours in a factory. She and her sister had to take on most of the housework.

As a teenager, mom fell madly in love with a young man who convinced her to drop out of high school and become his wife. Her romantic dream quickly turned into a nightmare of abuse, heartbreak, fear, and starvation. Though he loved her, her husband could not control his own inner torments. He drank heavily and was very controlling. He insulted her, isolated her from family and friends, forbad her from going to church, and he sometimes punched her. By the age of 19, she was anemic, weighed less than 100 pounds, and had just miscarried twins– partly because she had been denied access to pre-natal care; partly because she had been beaten and malnourished. But she survived, and went on to have a healthy pregnancy, mostly because her husband was drafted and sent to Korea.

Photo by Victoria Borodinova on Pexels.com

Mom survived divorce, something to which she had always been opposed, for the sake of her son. She survived the threats against herself and her young boy. She survived all the court dates and new responsibilities. She survived working 10-hours days, six days a week, at a butcher shop, cutting, grinding, and packing up meat, so she could provide for her young son.

Mom remarried at age 30. Shortly before her marriage, she had found a better job; one with better pay and shorter hours. Shortly after her marriage, on her way home from work, she was involved in a horrible accident. She had a head injury, broken ribs, and a broken collarbone. She began suffering from headaches. She suffered another miscarriage. But she survived, and went on to have me and my sister, both healthy deliveries. She had stopped working to be home with us, but she was involved in multiply volunteer opportunities through church and in the community. But her headaches were debilitating, and with them came depression.

Mom survived many dark days of pain and doubt. Though she was socially active, it took a great deal of energy and will to force herself to get out and keep going. Her doctor gave her medication for depression, and, thankfully, he carefully monitored what she took and whether it was effective. The headaches did not diminish, and mom treated them with massive doses of Anacin and other pain relievers.

In her 50s, mom developed more health problems. She developed arthritis. She had a hysterectomy, and had to have her gall bladder removed. In her 60s, mom had cataract surgery. Then she had to watch as her husband’s health deteriorated, and she lost him just after their 35th anniversary. She survived, and had to adjust to widowhood. In her 70s, she had more surgeries– she lost part of her thyroid, and nearly died. She had surgery to “undo” some of the damage from her earlier hysterectomy. She was diagnosed with bone density issues, which caused a curvature in her spine. In her 80s, she developed a heart condition. She had to undergo heart surgery and have a pacemaker. She could have died, but she didn’t. She developed a series of infections from one of her earlier surgeries, and had to use a cane to walk because of the bone density and spine curvature. She was diagnosed with macular degeneration, meaning that she is slowly going blind.

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Last fall, during the height of the COVID crisis, Mom fell and broke her hip. She was in a hospital where there were COVID cases, and she was transported to a rehab facility that had 4 COVID cases. By the time she left to come home, she was one of only 4 who had NOT developed COVID at that facility! She continues to go to outpatient rehab twice a week, and now has to use a walker, instead of just a cane, to provide balance and stability when she walks. She no longer drives, and has trouble reading, due to the macular degeneration. But she survives.

I say all of this, not because my mom is tougher, or luckier than other folks; not because she is more worthy of life than those who have not survived such struggles, and not because her life is more tragic than anyone else’s. I say this because my mother is a woman of prayer.

Last week, for Mother’s Day, we took my mom to her local church. She no longer drives, and she rarely gets out because of her health issues. But she wanted to be in church that Sunday. The very first hymn they sang that day was “Love Lifted Me.” And I cried. That was the song she had used, fifty years ago, to rock me to sleep as a child. Sometimes, she would sing it out. Sometimes she would just hum the tune as she rocked me. She was often crying as she sang– exhausted, depressed, worried, or haunted–but those words imprinted themselves in my young mind:
Love lifted me.
Love lifted me.
When nothing else could help–
Love lifted me.

My mother wasn’t just singing those words, she was praying.

Mom has lived out those words. Crying out to “the Master of the Sea,” Mom has been lifted up time and again. She has been a prayer warrior, knowing that her prayers rise to the One who loves her best of all; the One who holds her destiny and her redemption in His hands. No matter her circumstances, she can sing, knowing that love will continue to lift her, and carry her through.

May 21, 2021 1

Tag: depression