Kimberly Wagner's Blog, page 4

Breaking my Silence for an Update on LeRoy

There has been so much noise lately, and I’ve felt the need to be quiet. It has been a deeply painful and challenging season for us, but also for many across the globe, and although I’ve filled several pages in my personal journal, I’ve not felt the need to share anything here. At least, not until I started receiving requests from some of you, like this message from a precious reader who I’ve never met, but who faithfully intercedes for us:

“Before I went to bed last night, I looked again at your blog and your Instagram page to see if there were any updates.  When I didn’t see any, I just felt a burden to pray for you.  Again this morning, as I was writing the words, “That is why we never give up”, I felt compelled to pray for you and for LeRoy that you would not give up, though I know you are weary!  I prayed earnestly that you would find supernatural strength for whatever you are facing today.  I prayed that God in His mercy would give LeRoy some relief, and in turn, give you relief by seeing his pain eased.  I prayed that the Lord would remind you that “our present troubles are small and won’t last very long” (compared with eternity), but that “they produce for us a glory that vastly outweighs them and will last forever!”  I don’t know what glory the Lord is producing for, and in, yours and LeRoy’s hearts, but I know that it is good and it is for God’s glory because “God is good and does only good (Psalm 119:68).”

What a treasure, to receive these encouraging words and know that this woman of God faithfully prays for us. What undeserved grace.

And it is only by His grace that I’ve not lost heart in this season as we’ve been hit by personal loss and disappointment—admittedly, greater than any I’ve ever experienced—but also, as we continue to wait and ask God for mercy in sending LeRoy relief. (In case you’re a new reader here who is unaware of my husband’s condition, you can find more about his story by clicking here).

It occurred to me the other day, that you dear readers might not know that, although the doctors have prescribed many pain meds and various “nerve-numbing” drugs, LeRoy transitioned off all of the meds that affected his thinking and sobriety, within the first eighteen months of his spinal cord damage. None of those bottles of pills provided lasting relief for him, and many of them are addictive. All they did was dull his thinking and mess with his memory and ability to reason. He chose not to live in a drug-induced state—he could still feel the pain through the fog of drugs, so he said, “Why would I want to live being doped up while still in pain?”

So, when I mention his unrelenting pain to you—it isn’t a pain that is “imagined” or produced because of dependence on a narcotic or an addiction to any substance—it is debilitating nerve pain due to actual spinal cord damage that is irreparable. He does still take some non-habit-forming medication to help with the nerve burning and the muscle spasms, but in case you’ve been concerned that he is using opioids or other addictive pain killers, I assure you that he’s not.

He is one determined and courageous man. And his trust and dependence is on Christ—not any pain reliever.

So, if you’ve stuck with me this far through this long blog post—here’s the latest update on my man:

We were back in Dallas two weeks ago for lumbar and thoracic MRIs (while under heavy Covid-19 protocol). The day after those scans, LeRoy’s neurologist (through a tele-health call) took plenty of time with us and was very thorough. He gave us a better understanding of why stress, noise, sudden sounds . . . and even just the air from a fan blowing across his leg can trigger the horrific spasms.

First, the good news: Praise the Lord, there are no NEW lesions seen on his MRI. That’s a huge praise because the doctors are actually expecting that the sarcoidosis will probably show up again (because of the severity of his case and because it is so rare for it to go into remission).

But, of course, we know that complete remission is no problem for God.

The not-so-good news: There is scar tissue on the spinal cord that they can see on the MRI. The scar tissue will never resolve (unless God mercifully does that). His neurologist said the scarring might also be extending into the nerve root, but that isn’t something that will show up on the MRI.

The spinal cord scar tissue is a significant factor in his pain level.

The doctor went into a long explanation of why LeRoy is having such significant muscle spasms and how his lower motor neurons are triggered to go into hyper drive so easily. It was helpful for him to explain it to us like this:The normal tightening of the muscle that is triggered by neurons sending out the “fight or flight” signal have gone into “hyper-active” mode because the “adult chaperones” are no longer there to tell these motor neurons that “Everything is ok, no need to be alarmed.”

To try to find a solution for the “missing adult chaperones” the doctor wants to go through a titration cycle with four different anti-seizure drugs (trying one at a time) to try to find one that might lower that hair trigger response to stimuli that brings on the relentless and horrific muscle spasms. The doctor is hopeful that LeRoy will see measured improvement with one of these.

We left Dallas hopeful and started the new medication right away. Within forty-eight hours, he was feeling better than he has in almost three years, and I was getting very excited. LeRoy was still cautious, he’s been hopeful so many times, only to be followed by disappointing results.

Although things started well, less than a week into taking that med, LeRoy was having weird side effects. We contacted the doctor, and in less than an hour he responded with instructions to immediately cut the dosage in half. We did that. And as of this writing, LeRoy is right back where he was with intense spasms and pain. It may take a lot of trial and error to find what works, but since he had several good days before the side effects started, I still have hope for him to have some relief with one of these medications.

The doctor also warned us to continue with the Covid-19 protocol that we’ve been on: not risking being around people who haven’t been in isolation and for me to refrain from any public outings (like grocery shopping) during Covid. He said there isn’t enough data at this point to know how LeRoy’s antibodies would react to this virus and said if he stopped following this protocol, it would be like playing Russian Roulette—it’s just too dangerous. Even though some people think the virus is no big deal, it could kill my man, so we’re continuing to “shelter in place.” We’re on Day 99 of isolation by the way.

We have so many precious friends and loved ones who are suffering right now. Friends who’ve lost a loved one to the virus, friends who are experiencing the pain of being separated from a mom in the hospital, we have a family member dealing with a serious life-threatening cancer diagnosis, friends who are carrying deeply painful wounds that are too horrific to even express. With so much trauma surrounding us, it is hard to know what to say, what to share that might encourage you to not lose heart. So, I’m glad that the friend who sent the message I quoted at the beginning of this post was able to say it for me:

“God is good and does only good (Psalm 119:68).” And “That is why we never give up.”

So true, dear friend, so true.

We’re hopeful and so very thankful that LeRoy’s spinal cord showed no signs of new Neurosarcoidosis lesions at this point. That is worthy of a big word of praise. Thank you for your continued prayers and support.

Come and Rest a Bit

It’s mid-May and I’m sitting in front of the last fire until September, or more likely October. I’m taking full advantage of this rare opportunity. The temperatures dropped unseasonably low this week, and today, a cold rain settled in. I don’t know that it’s ever been this cool here this time of year. Weeks ago, I cleared out the last ashes from winter’s fires, and deep cleaned the hearth and firebox. But today, I gladly messed it all up again. I filled the firebox and lit the logs. And I’m pausing to enjoy.

In this moment, I thank the Father for the rain I hear hitting the roof, as well as thank Him that a roof shelters us from the rain—I’m well aware that many don’t have that protection. I thank Him for the beauty and warmth of the fire, for the cozy comfort that it brought into the room. I thank Him that I can sit and rest for a bit, that the work for the day is complete and now is time for rest, reflection, and thanksgiving.

Yes, I’m resting—what a kind gift from the Father. And now I’ve picked up the laptop to place my thoughts here, because I don’t consider this typing as “work.” Writing, for me, isn’t a labor for income, or a bothersome job on the to-do list, but it is a luxury these days. Writing is a relaxing form of expression and way for me to process. And, when I choose to post some of it here, I’m also hopeful that it is a small way for me to serve you gracious readers by sharing lessons God is teaching me. So, that is another reason to offer thanks right now—thanks for having the unusual opportunity of uninterrupted writing time.

As the world is grappling to recover from the global pandemic, and our nation struggles with fears and pressures —beyond what this generation has ever encountered—it is important to find moments to rest. While the world is reeling with anxiety, and many are being hit with frightening realities and losses—there comes a clear and simple invitation to rest:

“Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and YOU WILL FIND REST FOR YOUR SOULS. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.” (Matthew 11:28—30)

Do you ever read that passage with a bit of a cynical attitude? Maybe you’re even tempted to doubt this could happen. Ever feel like saying: “Yeah, ‘easy and light’ . . . right . . .”?

I have.

I’ve struggled thinking, “I’m trying to find rest in You, I’m trying to experience that easy yoke, but this is really hard right now!”

There are nights that are filled with horrifying fears and crushing disappointment. There have been many times, throughout my life, where I desperately wanted to find that place of “rest” that this passage describes, but I couldn’t. When my world is rocked and I’m shaken to the core, worry is the easiest default position.

I’ve still got much to learn, but I want you to know—that place of rest is real and waiting for us—even in the midst of the craziness of a global pandemic, loss of income, and unrelenting pain.

Jesus’ promise to us is really true. There is a sweet place of security in His yoke. And, when I respond to His invitation, rest happens.

The key to finding that rest is what Jesus said just after He invited us to climb into the yoke with Him: “Learn from Me . . .” If I will allow Him to lead me and teach me, I will learn how to have peace while walking through crisis. I must learn from Him.

The way to soul-rest is to remind myself of God’s character, of His “big picture” and then follow His instructions.

When I remind myself of God’s faithfulness, who He has revealed Himself to be throughout history, and personally in my own life in the past—it settles my heart in truth. My fears may be different from yours, but I think in some sense we all fear making wrong choices, missing God’s will, and fear the pain that comes from conflict with others. And then there is the awareness that the evil one seeks to devour us or our loved ones. He’s always trying to inflict fear of the future, fear of the unknown, fear from the “what ifs.”

Today, most of the world is living in fear, aware that we are facing unknown futures as never before. May we, as believers, hold out the invitation that Christ offers—peace that is beyond explanation, and an assurance for the future that only He can provide. You don’t need a glowing fire to find that rest, or a brilliant sunset (although those things provide a great atmosphere for rest), but wherever you are, recount in your heart and mind all you know about your Sovereign Lord and rest will begin to settle your soul. Thank Him for those attributes and for the rest He delights to give.

I hope you’ll find some moments today to climb into that yoke with Jesus, to lay down the weary and heavy-laden thoughts that rob you of peace, and receive the comfort and rest He will bring.

Photo by Greg Rosenke on Unsplash

Sending Out an Infusion of Hope

Throughout this strange season, where much of the world has come to a standstill, and isolating at home a necessity, the Christian community has flooded the Internet with helpful, free resources. One of my favorites is the daily video cast from “Revive Our Hearts” ministries called: Grounded: A Daily Infusion of Hope and Perspective. The program is co-hosted by two dear friends, Dannah Gresh and Erin Davis, who begin the day with hope-filled messages and a biblical perspective for navigating, not only this pandemic, but daily life in general. They have inspiring guests, heart-warming moments, personal words of encouragement, and general fun all the way around.

Recently, I had the joy of joining Grounded with my dear friend, Mary Kassian, and I’m inviting you to join us for a few moments as well—so I’m including the link to the recording below. Now, I need to explain first, that my portion is quite painful to watch (or hear), as we’d just had a storm come through our area which seemed to dramatically impact my Internet, so I’m sorry about that. But Mary, and the rest of the crew that day, provide some encouraging insights. Also, I hope that you’ll pull up past programs (if you’ve not been following this daily infusion of hope) and enjoy being ministered to by these wise women. This is something you can plug into your daily routine that will set your heart and mind on track with a truthful and encouraging perspective!

Here ya go! Just click the link below:

https://www.reviveourhearts.com/videocast/grounded/evaluating-our-hearts-mary-kassian-and-kimberly-wa/

The Cows Aren’t Concerned

The cows in the pasture were settled into the grass in a lazy clump (no social distancing with them) to ruminate their morning feeding. We passed them on our way to LeRoy’s injection last week and, as he looked over to see the pleasant scene, he commented, “The cows aren’t concerned about the pandemic.” We had a smile together at that thought and talked about how all of creation is groaning under the destructive effects of the fall, but it isn’t worried about it—the cows continue doing what they were created to do . . . the birds continue giving glory to God through their bird-song-praises, the spring buds continue to bloom, and creation continues to fulfill its purpose—even while Covid-19 is paralyzing the world.

All of creation continues to glorify God by fulfilling its purpose—even through a global pandemic.

And there is something that is strangely comforting in that. Seeing the familiar function of our well-ordered creation provides a sense of “normalcy” that an afflicted soul needs. And we are all afflicted under the destructive effects of the fall (the “fall from the world’s state of sinless perfection and beauty” where God first placed mankind).

But, although the world is groaning, although the virus infects, loss invades, and suffering continues its relentless march—creation is still at work bringing God glory.

We had a disappointing visit this week with the specialist who did LeRoy’s injections. Because LeRoy hasn’t seen any improvement yet, the doctor is concerned that he has scar tissue on his spinal cord (the neurologist has also mentioned concerns about this) and if so, that would prevent this procedure from being effective. It was not what we were expecting to hear. As the doctor went on to explain that his only option now might be to try to manage the pain with medication, it felt like a cold blanket of discouragement fell across our shoulders.

Once again, we’ve ridden the roller-coaster of hope for improvement through treatment, only to hit the bottom of the descent with no solution in sight.

As we made the trip back home, we passed the same cows that we’d seen the week before—still undisturbed and enjoying their green pasture. The sun shone brilliantly, as we discussed the disappointing news. All of creation was undisturbed in fulfilling God’s purpose in bringing glory to their Master—as it felt like our world was crumbling again.

My determination to continue crying out for mercy for my husband, deepens with each disappointment. When I cry out, I remind my faithful Father of His good and gracious character (as Moses did in Numbers chapter 14, or Hezekiah in 2 Kings 19), and I appeal to Him on that basis. I beg Him for LeRoy to be able to glorify Him through this affliction, but more than that, to glorify Him through a healthy life.

I will not stop asking for this mercy as long as I have breath in my body.

The day after that disappointing appointment, LeRoy began his day as he does every morning: in the Word, in prayer, and with worship. And, as we prayed together, LeRoy voiced this: “Your faithfulness endures to all generations; You have established the earth, and it stands fast. By your appointment they stand this day, for all things are your servants” (from Psalm 119:90—91).

As our prayer time concluded, my mind was brought back to those cows, to the song birds, the blooming fields, and the brilliant sun. They are God’s servants, giving Him glory by doing what they were created to do. We are God’s servants, seeking to glorify Him by doing what we are created to do—to display His beauty and goodness. Today, we are not doing that in the way I’d thought we would in this season. But, I pray, that in some small way, we are fulfilling our purpose—and that is the same purpose for each of us—to bear much fruit and thereby bring God glory.

Thank you for the many prayers you’ve lifted for us, for faithful and heart-felt intercession. We are humbled and amazed as we read comments from you and we sense that we’re upheld by steadfast prayer warriors. Please, don’t stop asking God for mercy for my man.

Will you join me in that?

Longing for the New Day

As I write this post, the breeze coming through the car window is cool this morning, but the sun warms my face as I wait and pray. I’ve been walking around the medical building that is bordered by bright spring flowers and tall trees. Walking and praying for my man. Somewhere inside that building, he’s getting ready for his second procedure. The nurses are asking him questions, prepping him, and rolling his gurney into the surgery area where they’ll inject his veins with a drug that heavily sedates him. And then the procedure will begin.

If you are a new reader here, you may not know that my husband is partially paralyzed due to a rare neurological disease (you can read some of that story by clicking here). Neurosarcocidosis has damaged his spinal cord and left him with significant nerve pain and horrific muscle spasms. The injury to his spinal cord developed into CRPS (a serious condition that some refer to as the “suicide disease” because of the unbearable pain that patients endure and the hopelessness it produces).

His suffering is brutal to watch.

The doctor who has walked much of this journey with us recommended a “spinal sympathetic nerve block” series of injections. Today is the second one in the series of three. The first was last week, and the last will be next week. So today, marks the middle of this treatment journey.

I was very encouraged after the first one, the day after, he actually had a brief reprieve from the pain and I shared that with you in a post last Saturday morning. But, by that afternoon, the muscle spasms and nerve burning returned with a vengeance. And each day since, it seems like his body has been punishing him. The muscle spasms contort his left leg—it looks like it could rip away from his body at times, while he endures the excruciating force of its pull.

If it is this traumatic to view his suffering, I can’t imagine what it is to actually be inside his body and experience that level of pain.

On Tuesday night, I just had to go to the closet to get alone to cry and pray. It is so hard to watch him suffer, so hard to see this much pain—to see it continue for such a long, hard season. When it continues for such an extended period of time, it almost feels scary to hope for relief. But, after a long cry and honest conversation with the Father, I came out of that closet with a renewed determination to continue asking, and hoping, for relief and healing.

It’s good to go to the prayer closet when things get too hard to keep standing upright.

The doctor said we shouldn’t expect improvement until after the third injection, but in all honesty, every day since his illness first started I’ve been hopeful for improvement, for relief from the pain, for complete healing. Every day.

Every day, I’m hit with memories of my strong, healthy, athletic man. And I miss him. And I hurt for him. I ache to see him relieved of this heavy burden of torturous pain.

LeRoy started this morning, just as he does every morning. With great effort and difficulty, he drags himself to his recliner—after giving me a tender “Good morning” greeting. He bows his head to spend some moments in prayer before I hand him his first cup of coffee, and then he opens the Word. He begins every day the exact same way—whether in agonizing pain or not—worshiping the Savior that we love and depend on day by day.

We know, and understand well, that this world is groaning. This world is filled with sorrow and suffering, and today, many are grieving great losses. Jesus told us to expect this kind of thing, to not be surprised by it. But with that ominous word, He also gave the clear instruction for us to “take courage” (John 16:33). Because of His work on the cross, because of the assurance and comfort of His abiding presence, we can take courage knowing that He has overcome. He overcame death. He took our punishment on Himself—and walked out of the tomb a risen and living Savior.

A risen Savior is reason enough to take courage.

At this point, I need to interrupt my own post and explain that I wrote this post yesterday, while sitting in the car waiting for the phone call from the surgery center telling me they were ready for me to pick him up. He was groggy and half awake, as the masked nurse wheeled him out, and helped me transfer him to the car seat for the drive home. Thus, I had no time to actually post this blog on the website yesterday, but rather than deleting it or starting over with a new post . . . I’m just putting it out there for you as it is, hope it makes sense.

For those of you who are still praying for us, I want you to know that your prayers matter.

We are extremely encouraged by every comment, every mention of prayer support, every kind word sent our way. We are grateful for your prayers and we know that they matter.

Today may not be the day that the pain stops. Today may not be the day that all our prayers are answered. But today, we will take courage—for today, we know that our risen Savior has conquered death, His Spirit is with us, and one day, He will return to remove all pain, all suffering, all tears.

One day. It will be a new day—the old will pass away. And how I long for that day!

We Are Waiting

Like many of you, LeRoy and I are spending a rainy weekend focusing on the sufferings of our Redeemer and the power of His resurrection. We’ve also entered a season of waiting for what this newest treatment for him will bring (and you can read about that by clicking here to see my last blog post).

We are waiting in hope.

In my daily reading of the Psalms, this day’s reading is from chapter 102, and it begins with the prayer of an afflicted one, who is weary. It is a Psalm that we can very much relate to today.

The Psalmist pours out his complaint before the Lord and begins this Psalm with the request:
“Hear my prayer, O Lord; let my cry come to you!
Do not hide your face from me in the day of my distress! Incline your ear to me; answer me speedily in the day when I call!” (Psalm 102:1—2)

As I read these words, I pause to cry out again for LeRoy’s healing, for relief from the constant pain, for release from the grip of this horrific affliction.

As I continue through this Psalm, it is quite descriptive of LeRoy’s painful existence:
“For my days pass away like smoke, my bones burn like a furnace . . . I lie awake; I am like a lonely sparrow on the housetop.
My days are like an evening shadow; I wither away like grass.”

But, just as his complaint is building steam—the Psalmist shifts dramatically to announce truth and counsel his heart with the reality of the power of the God he worships (v.12):

“But you, O LORD, are enthroned forever; you are remembered throughout all generations. You will arise and have pity on Zion; it is the time to favor her; the appointed time has come.”

And I pause at this point in the chapter to ask that the LORD might arise and have pity on my man, that he might place His favor on him—that the time might have finally come to release him from his pain.

Moving to verse 17, I’m again reminded of the precious kindness of God:
“He regards the prayer of the destitute and does not despise their prayer.”

And I thank Him. I’m thanking Him that I know He hears my prayer, and the prayers of so many of you. And I acknowledge that we are asking BIG.

The Psalmist then makes another glorious declaration in the next section (I hope you have your Bible open to Psalm 102 and are following along with me):

“Let this be recorded for a generation to come, so that a people yet to be created may praise the Lord: that he looked down from his holy height; from heaven the Lord looked at the earth, to hear the groans of the prisoners, to set free those who were doomed to die, so that they may declare in Zion the name of the Lord, and in Jerusalem his praise, when peoples gather together, and kingdoms, to worship the Lord.” (Psalm 102:18—22)

We see the writer’s earnest longing here . . . that the Lord might hear the groaning of the afflicted, of those “doomed to die” and deliver them. But, the point of their deliverance isn’t just for their personal relief—but ultimately, the writer wants the Lord praised among all peoples as they see God’s power to deliver His own.

The Psalmist records his deepest desire here—that the Lord might be worshiped and praised as He deserves. And yet, coupled with his praise of the Almighty is the writer’s admission that this merciful God, for some reason that he can’t comprehend, has brought him great affliction:

“He has broken my strength in midcourse; he has shortened my days. ‘O my God,’ I say, ‘take me not away in the midst of my days—you whose years endure throughout all generations!

Of old you laid the foundation of the earth, and the heavens are the work of your hands. They will perish, but you will remain; they will all wear out like a garment. You will change them like a robe, and they will pass away, but you are the same, and your years have no end.” (verses 23—27)

This afflicted Psalmist is declaring the power and position of the God he worships, and once again, lifts his appeal before him. He contrasts the temporary and fleeting nature of creation with the eternal reality of God’s existence. And he makes his appeal for release from his painful imprisonment. Just as I’m appealing for my husband’s release.

And as I lift my appeal, I’m waiting.

In the providence of God, before I was born, He knew I’d be waiting with hope for LeRoy’s recovery on this very day, and He also directed me, long ago, to take on the discipline of combining one chapter of the Psalms with my daily Bible reading.

The eternal God knew that today I’d reach this Psalm in my daily reading. He has a word for me (and for you) today. 

He has been my dwelling place . . . since I was a little girl . . . but He has been around since long before anything I can see came into existence. In fact, I find great comfort in knowing that He has always been . . . there is never a time when He was not. He has always been, and forever will be, the Great “I Am.”

This week, I also spent some time praying through Psalm 90. Would you join me in considering these words:
“Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever you had formed the earth and the world, from everlasting to everlasting you are God.” (v. 2)

Again, we see that God was very much “before.” Before all that I can see—God was. And God is. He is the “I Am.”

I’ve been carrying around a phrase in my heart all week: He is the “beginning-less” God.

My mind can’t wrap itself around understanding this great mystery, but my heart can. How do I know He has always been here? How am I assured that He is the “I Am” that is unceasing, that is self-existent, and self-sustaining? The knowledge and assurance comes from the witness of His Spirit that He sent to lead us into all truth and that resides within His own to reveal and confirm to us His reality. His Word assures us of it and His Spirit bears witness to us of His eternal nature. 

Trusting in the fact that He knows the end from the beginning, that nothing takes Him by surprise or disturbs His plan . . . that He exists outside the limited unit we call “time” . . . brings confidence and complete rest. He is the Beginning-less God.

Today, many of you are waiting as well. You are watching and waiting to see if a loved one will recover from Covid-19. You are anxiously waiting for answers, wondering if you will have enough funds for groceries in the coming weeks. You are waiting in isolation—with no one to bear the burden of your loss as you are suddenly unemployed and very fearful of what the coming months may hold.

What can we do when waiting for the unknowns of our future to be resolved? 

We turn to the God who knows what is coming.

He holds the answers to questions of eternal magnitude. If you’ll continue walking with me through Psalm 90, we’ll see how we can wait with a confident expectation as we readjust our focus from the temporal to the eternal:

“You return man to dust and say, ‘Return, O children of man!’ For a thousand years in your sight are but as yesterday when it is past, or as a watch in the night.” (vv. 3–4)

It is a good thing to continually remind ourselves that we are mere dust. We can easily get caught up in the frantic pace of life, the deadlines, and press reports . . . we can become so enamored with “Today!” that we push aside thoughts of eternity. But I think this state of “sheltering in place” where many have stopped the normal routines of hurry, provides space for us to consider the eternal.

Considering the eternal as we wait, puts things in proper perspective.

As physical beings who house the Spirit of the living God, we operate in two realms, but eternity beckons our heart. 

Psalm 103 tells us that our days are like grass; and James warns us that our lives are like a vapor short-lived and soon over. The fleeting nature of this life is a compelling reason to live for more, to place greater value on preparing for our future residence than on our temporary one.

What can we do in times of waiting?  
We need to recognize that all of this life is a period of waiting. We are all waiting for this brief span to be completed before entering the doorway to the eternal. We are given these few days to prepare for that realm, to carry out the mission and purpose for our lives in this realm in order to hear the greeting on that day: “Well, done, good and faithful servant.”

We are given this fleeting and momentary span to take part in filling the earth with His glory. 

Thus the instructive admonition in Psalm 90:
“So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom.” (v.12)
God wants us to apply ourselves to understanding the brevity of this life, and in the moments He has allowed us, to intentionally pursue living out the good works He has planned for us. In other words, it is as though God is saying in this verse, “Don’t waste your life with the temporary!”

As I write this post, on a dark Saturday morning, on Resurrection Day eve, I’m reflecting on the period of waiting for some long ago, sisters of mine, who also were in a painful time of waiting. The women who followed Jesus were experiencing deep grief as they waited. As they silently walked away from the horror of the cross, they were waiting. As they served a Passover Sabbath meal to their families, they were waiting . . .

They were waiting to return to the tomb with burial spices, waiting for the unknown and uncertain future without their Lord, waiting with broken hearts for all they’d seen, but waiting in loyal trust in the One whom they’d faithfully followed . . . all the way to the cross.

On Sunday, they were rewarded for their wait by the resurrected Christ. Just as all will be rewarded who wait with loyal trust in Him. This wait is not a passive one, but is filled with service and expectancy.

Much of the world is waiting today. As LeRoy and I wait to see if this treatment will bring him relief, we are reminded of the long wait many of you are experiencing as well. This is a waiting season as none other we’ve experienced, is it not?

In a sense all our life is spent in the waiting period of the “day before” like that brief space of time between the crucifixion and the Resurrection. We are all waiting for that moment when we will step from this life of death to the realm of eternal life.

We are waiting to enter the eternal realm of the Resurrected One.

Are you living in the awareness that your days are quite limited in comparison to eternity?
How are you spending your “waiting moments” in this season between birth and leaving this realm?

May we all wait well.

Thank you so much for praying for LeRoy. He actually had brief periods of relief from his pain yesterday, which he’s not experienced in years. That deserves a huge shout of praise. I’m sending up continual thank you’s to the Father, and pleas for this relief to increase, for improvement to be full and lasting. Please continue to pray that this might actually become his new “normal”—a life without excruciating pain. On Thursday, we return to the surgery center for another nerve blocking injection. Again, we are so grateful for your intercession for us.

And pray for us to wait well.

Leaving the Shelter for the Surgery Center

We are on Day 29. As I shared with you in the early days of March, a dear friend, who is a retired RN and who served in the medical field for more than four decades, urged me not to leave our home. She stressed how that exposure to this quickly spreading virus could be life-threatening for LeRoy, and how easily I might bring germs back home to him.

And we have sheltered in place now since March 12th.

I’ve washed the groceries that friends or family drop on the porch before bringing them inside. We stay in place. We have no physical contact with anyone, other than an occasional visit from my son who stays at one end of the carport while we have a “long distance” conversation. Or another friend who brings by supplies occasionally and stays well out of range—twenty feet at least. We’ve patiently sheltered.

Until today.

I really wasn’t ready for us to venture out, but it is necessary.

If you’re new to the blog, you may not know that almost five years ago, my husband started having weird physical symptoms and for two years we searched for answers. He had multiple tests, went through a slew of medical specialists, and several MRIs before ending up in a three-week hospital stay. The neurologists determined that he has a rare neurological disease (neruosacrdoisis) that caused significant damage to his spinal cord and left him partially paralyzed. (For more of his story, you can click here).

The first year after that diagnosis, the doctors gave him an aggressive form of treatment, and we believe that the disease may be in remission. But the nerve damage that it left causes continual burning pain and excruciating muscle spasms. He is never out of pain. He has lived in pain for almost three years.

He recently told me that he never could’ve imagined being able to endure this much pain for this amount of time.

But, not only has he endured the pain, he’s never wavered in his faithful trust of His Savior. He’s never shown one hint of anger or resentment. He gets discouraged, he grieves over losses, but he is steadfast in his devotion to Christ.

Last year, he had a series of spinal injections that lowered his base level of pain temporarily. And although it was a short respite, he was grateful even for the small lessening of the intense suffering. In December, his father passed away, and almost each week since then, his pain level has increased by small increments–until it is now almost completely unbearable as horrific muscle spasms hit in multiples with increasing intensity.

More than one doctor has told us they believe his nerve pain has developed into CRPS (chronic regional pain syndrome), also known as the “suicide disease” because of the unbearable pain that patients endure and the hopelessness it produces. The doctor who has walked much of this journey with us is recommending a “spinal sympathetic nerve block” series of injections. Today is the first of three. LeRoy has never had this type of injection. There will be three, one each week, for three weeks.

We are going to a surgery center, not a regular hospital, for the procedure, and they are taking extra precautions with screening everyone who enters the building (no family members allowed, only the patient). A friend shipped protective gear for him, all the way from Washington, D. C. and the nurse assured me that they are being very careful with every patient, but it is still concerning. I will wait in the car, and pray, while LeRoy goes in alone. I really don’t like not being able to be with him right up until they take him into surgery—this will be a first, I’ve always been at his bedside through every test or procedure.

I’m not a fan of doing this during the height of a pandemic.

But, my precious husband is in so much pain that he does not want to delay, he wants to do this as soon as possible. He says that the risk of getting the virus is worth it to him if this procedure might lower his pain level even a little bit.

So, I’m coming to you again, as I have for almost three years, and I ask you to please pray for my man. Pray for his protection from being exposed to the virus. And will you ask God to be merciful, that these injections will be effective and bring real relief?

It is a precious comfort and encouragement to us to know how very many of you are praying. Thank you.

When Trusting God is Hard

Are you fearful today? It seems like the phrase “unprecedented event” has been used hundreds of times within the last few weeks. With our newsfeeds filled with death statistics, and significant personal losses, fear is on the rise. No matter your age, ethnicity, gender, or income demographic—nearly every person on the globe right now is being affected by what some are calling the “silent enemy.” Whether it’s young moms fearful for their children’s future or people afraid to leave their homes, we’re living in a world that’s sending out fear-producing shock waves. And right now, many of these fears are legitimate.

When your heart is overwhelmed with fear, when terror breathes down your neck, hearing the counsel to “just trust God” can seem unrealistic and unsympathetic. But intentionally moving your heart to the place of trust is the safest and most reasonable thing you can do.

My fears may be different from yours, but I think in some sense we all grapple with fear—and today perhaps more than at any other time in our lives. So, when I encourage you to “trust God” I truly don’t mean to sound trite or indifferent to a legitimate cause for concern. I know it’s hard right now to grasp a firm hold on trust.

Trusting God isn’t easy. It requires something, and it’s a hard choice. But it’s a choice that’s easier to make with a weighty bit of knowledge. I’ve dealt with fear a bit throughout my life, so, in case someone might need this today, here are some truths I’ve found helpful:

Five Not-So-Easy Ways to Trust God When Paralyzed by Fear

1. Trust in God is developed through knowing His character.

The challenge when scrolling through the daily newsfeed is to view it all from an accurate perspective. The newsfeed—or my circumstances—can lie to me and tell me that God is either not good or not powerful. But 2 Corinthians 10:3–5 challenges us to “take every thought captive” so our thoughts line up in obedience to God’s truth.
When I remind myself of God’s faithfulness, who He has revealed Himself to be throughout history and in my own life, it settles my heart. The best way to get to know Him is by learning what He’s like through His Word, learning from others who walk closely with Him, and by spending time connecting with Him in prayer.

As you build a history of walking with God, it provides you with the knowledge of His character that sustains you when fear threatens to rob you of all security.

2. Trust in God requires acknowledging the reality of the battle.

Much of the world is living in fear, aware that the death toll is rising as the “unseen enemy,” Covid-19, spreads. Psalm 56 is a passage that has the potential to counter our anxieties. The first verse honestly assesses the situation, and the rest of the chapter affirms why we have no reason to fear (when our ultimate trust is placed in God).

But the reference to an attacker who “oppresses” is a literal and frightening reality right now for many of us.

The Psalm opens with a lament: “All day long an attacker oppresses me.” You may not fear the same type of attack described here, but do you feel like you’re holding your breath dreading the next “bad” thing that might be coming? The answer isn’t to ignore the danger, to deny the reality of real dangers, or to pretend we don’t experience terror. But we also need to accept (and place our trust in) the reality of God’s involvement in the afflictions we face.

I must actively choose to grab on to the truths that fuel my trust. The last thing I need, is to ignore the fact that I’m in a spiritual battle daily, cave in to fear, or forget that God is trustworthy.

3. Trust in God deepens as I recognize His intimate involvement in my life.

I must continually remind myself that He sees, He knows, and He cares.
Verse 8 is a confession of God’s loving care: “You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in your bottle. Are they not in your book?”.

God is intimately aware of all that is coming against you . . . none of it has taken Him by surprise. He is not blind to your pain, or indifferent to the suffering that is happening throughout the world today. I find great comfort in knowing that He is a God of details and by reminding myself that not one hair falls without His knowledge.

Just because we are experiencing great loss and affliction does not mean that God does not care.

4. Trust in God flows from the knowledge that He is “for me.”

I love this precious promise tucked into this strategic chapter: “This I know, that God is for me” (v. 9).
Did you hear that? Let that sink in a minute.

Now, with that truth in mind, check out Romans 8:31:
“What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who is against us?”

It’s almost like the apostle Paul (inspired by the Holy Spirit) is saying, “Look, it’s a no-brainer. Weigh what you’re fearful of, in comparison to God’s commitment to you, and ask yourself how the two sides compare! Face the angry mob, the empty bank balance, the prodigal child, the unknowns . . . and with this knowledge, remind yourself to Whom you belong and Who is committed to be on your side.”

The fearful circumstances may bottom out one side of the scale, but if you could place God on the other side . . . the scale would explode!
God’s commitment to be “for you” outweighs anything that comes against you. God being “for you” doesn’t mean that you won’t face opposition, get cancer, loose a loved one, or guarantee plenty of funds for a comfortable life.

But it does mean you can trust Him to lead you through the opposition, to provide what you need in the midst of cancer or loss, to be your safe place no matter what.
Psalm 56 also poses an important question:
“In God I trust; I shall not be afraid. What can man do to me?” (v. 11).

Yes, man can bring physical harm, emotional pain, even torture and death—but for thousands of Christian martyrs, those things do not rob them of their commitment to Christ. Trusting in God delivers them from the fear of death.

He is worthy of that kind of trust, but how do I live that out when my heart is racing, my stomach churning, and my windpipe closes? We find the answer in the next verse:
“I must perform my vows to you, O God; I will render thank offerings to you” (v. 12).

5. Trust in God is solidified through offering thanks.

My vows are a voluntary expression of praise and gratitude to God—also known as thanksgiving. Wow. This is what my response is supposed to be in the face of all my fear . . . thankfulness.

There is more to say about this than can be covered in a blog post, but let me encourage you to take a peek at these instructions:
“Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you” (1 Thess. 5:18).

“Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness” (James 1:2–3).

How can I offer thanksgiving for the fearful afflictions? For the scary unknown? Only by remembering to whom I belong and through putting my trust in His faithful character.

When I lift up praise and thanksgiving to God, I am demonstrating that I trust Him to “keep my feet from falling” and that I trust His character and His ways—no matter what. I am thanking Him for being my Deliverer, and I am pressing into the path of faith He has carved out for me today—walking before God in the light of life (Ps. 56:13).

What fear is paralyzing you today?
How will you counter those fears?

(Portions of this post were adapted from my original post on the True Woman blog.)

7 Suggestions for Finding Joy in Isolation

LeRoy and I sheltered into complete isolation on March 12th—no little ones coming to visit, no contact with anyone else, our son and friends leaving groceries at our front door (which I spray down with Lysol before bringing inside). It may sound extreme, but after living with someone whose body has been ravaged by antibodies going haywire, I’m doing all I can to practice preventative measures and wise caregiving.

Many of you are experiencing isolating lifestyles similar to what we’ve lived now for a few years, but the strangeness of this isolation is compounded by the tidal wave of Pandemic news and reports. Knowing that this new way of life can be a bit challenging, I decided to share with you a few things that I’ve been passing onto friends and loved ones (as well as a few of my LifeChange clients) and thought you might find these helpful, so here we go, with 7 suggestions for finding joy in this season of isolating:

1. Plant your heart in solid truth.

There’s information that we need in order to react wisely, but there is also much that is inciting panic. Be informed, but don’t become obsessed and overwhelmed with an abundance of Covid-19 news. Choose wisely how you spend your time right now, and more than ever we need to bathe our hearts in truth.

One great way to begin your morning is by watching this new video-cast from Revive Our Hearts ministries: Grounded: A daily infusion of Hope & Perspective. It’s hosted by my dear friends, Dannah Gresh and Erin Davis—two women who are passionate about sharing the truth of the Word and providing you with practical help during this life-altering event.

Just click here to reach the daily episodes, and if you want to watch it live each weekday morning, you can join them at 9:00 a.m., ET, just like I’m doing!

2. While in isolation, don’t isolate.

Be intentional in using this rare opportunity to bond more deeply as a family. Have fun and enjoy each other by competing in board games, putting together puzzles, reading a book, taking walks, doing a Bible study together, working on new recipes, or consider tackling a hobby you’ve never tried before. But also, look for ways to minister to others as a family.

If your little ones are separated from their grandparents, work on a letter filled with pictures, send out “Missing You” or encouragement cards to friends or relatives that you haven’t seen in a while. Are there elderly people in your church or community who you might be able to run errands for, or drop groceries and supplies at their door? Use this time to be creative in reaching out to others. Just because we’re in isolation, doesn’t mean we have to isolate.

3. Get outside!

Now that spring is showing up in some parts of our country, look for opportunities to find outdoor adventures. I like to go on what I call, a “Beauty Hunt” where I look for any signs of artistry from our Creator: vivid colors, rugged or smooth textures (like thick moss), unusual designs in plant life or the interesting world of insects. Breath some fresh air. It’s dangerous to stay cooped up with the Pandemic for too long—I’m not suggesting getting in crowds, but find spaces to safely move outdoors and enjoy the sunshine or rain shower. Listen to the birds, feel a breeze, and take time to thank the Creator for the changing of seasons and spring’s reminder that He makes all things new.

4. Set a trajectory of joy before the day begins.

You might find it tempting to sleep in right now, but be intentional with the early morning moments to prepare your heart for the day before chaos takes over. It’s vitally important to meet with God by getting into the Word and letting Him know how very much you need His help for all that will come your way. My responsibilities and the future unknowns never look as threatening and ominous once I go to the Father of comforts and sit in His presence a good while—before all the distractions of the day hit. I can’t stress this enough—getting to God in the first moments of the day, sets the course for the rest of your day.

5. Set a schedule, but be flexible.

If you’ve ever been any type of caregiver, you quickly learn that a regular schedule prevents many disasters. If you’ve suddenly found yourself at home with a houseful of children who’re normally at school for most of the day, you’ve got a brand new challenge on your hands. It’s vitally important to sit down and have a family planning session to map out a productive (and fun) daily schedule (and depending on how long the “sheltering in place” lifestyle is the new norm, you may need to hold these meetings frequently).

Schedule educational activities, games, rest, chores, exercise, and meal times. Your day will flow easier when everyone knows the expectations and understands why you’ve set the schedule in place. But, hold the schedule with an open hand—flexibility right now is important. We’re living in unprecedented times and that means that we all need to approach each day with an awareness that things can change in an instant and we need to be ready to adjust.

6. Monitor your news intake.

After the first day of sitting far too long in front of news reports, I learned that it wasn’t a helpful exercise for me. We need to be informed, we need to be knowledgeable about what is going on around us—but we can easily become consumed by all the media is pumping out. And too much media consumption can fuel worrisome anxieties. Now is the perfect time to pull out some of those books that are sitting on your nightstand or stuck in your to-do list. There are plenty of good resources being pumped out through blog sites and ministries right now. Take advantage of some incredible free stuff from several different ministries by clicking on this post from Tim Challies.

7. Take advantage of this opportunity to unite with other believers.

This is an unprecedented event for us. Never before have we had the opportunity to devote our Sundays to family worship while joining with believers, across the globe, in experiencing online worship services together right from our home. We’re “sheltering in place” but praying, singing, studying the Word in online services with believers who are experiencing the same trial in every part of the world. LeRoy and I are enjoying viewing many different online messages that are delivered specifically in the context of this crisis that we’re all facing together. As the body of Christ, we are all united by the suffering. We are joining in the experience of believers around the world who’ve been devastated by the same virus that is impacting our lives. It isn’t what we would’ve chosen as a vehicle to unite us, but that is one good thing the Coronavirus has accomplished.

Although our world may seem to be in pandemonium today, we can rest assured that God is not alarmed. He upholds the universe by the word of His power (Hebrews 1:3) and He is trustworthy.

“When the earth totters, and all its inhabitants, it is I who keep steady its pillars.” (Psalm 75:3)

How are you doing during this season of isolation? How can we pray for you?

Photo Credit: Gabriel Garcia Marengo on Unsplash

How Should We Respond to a Pandemic?

We are living in strange times, are we not? Yesterday, our church wasn’t holding a service, so LeRoy and I spent the day quietly (as many of our days are spent), snuggled safely in our home, seemingly far from the clamor of the Pandemic Pandemonium, and we filled our souls with truth. A friend sent a link to their church’s online service—where it appeared that only the senior pastor and another elder were in attendance—and the rich exhortation the pastor shared from Job 42 ministered to us both. Our own pastor emailed the congregation an excellent study from Romans 1, and we enjoyed digging into that as well.

The Pandemic provided us with the opportunity to spend our Sunday in quiet study and reflection, joining online with other believers from thousands of miles away, and in other countries, to worship, sing, and study God’s Word. And it was a joy.

But, this global event has brought to light several ugly realities—certainly, the suffering of those who are impacted directly by the virus, but also the reaction to the reality of the virus has been concerning to me. At a time when believers have an unprecedented opportunity to present gospel truth and hope to a panicked world, some have actually focused their attention on political assumptions instead.

How should we be responding to this event? I certainly am no expert, but I do have some thoughts on how believers can stand as light-bearers in this dark time.

Let Your Light Shine
Remember this sweet children’s song? It isn’t just a song, it’s actually instructions from our Master: “Let your light shine before men in such a way that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven.” (Matthew 5:16)

There are many “good works” that believers can be doing right now. Our precious church is reaching out to members who are in isolation today brought on by concerns over the coronavirus (because of age and health conditions—including us, because of my husband’s illness), and offering to run errands and pick up groceries or do anything that those in protective isolation might need. I’m watching as many churches are reaching out to help their communities in practical ways—and I love what I’m seeing!

May the good news of the gospel spread through these helping hands. May the work and service of those who are seeking ways to reach out to those in need, those who are anxious and fearful, and those who have no idea where to turn for stability in such uncertain times, be a tangible conduit for the grace and truth of Christ.

Demonstrate the Royal Law of Love
When I finally opened my Twitter feed to check on what the rest of the world was saying about the coronavirus, I was deeply disturbed, stunned, and disappointed. It was surprising to me to see public figures, who the world could view as representing the Evangelical Christian perspective, conducting themselves in such callous and disrespectful ways. Of course, I don’t know their heart or motive, but it gave me cause for great concern.

At a time when Christians should be thinking of others, seeking to protect “the least of these”, watching for ways to serve others, demonstrating respect to others, thinking the best rather than assuming the worst, walking in wisdom and thoughtfulness—instead, through social media there are demonstrations of public arrogance, defiance against requests made by public officials and knowledgable agencies, misuse of Scripture, and generally an immature response to a real health concern—and this by those who claim to be believers, even by some pastors.

I kept wondering why. Why would believers waste this opportunity to be the light? To demonstrate the beauty of the gospel? To love others? I kept thinking about James’ exhortation to us and wondering why some believers weren’t taking his admonition: “If you really fulfill the royal law according to the Scripture, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself,” you are doing well” (James 2:8).

I’m praying that the world will not view Christians as the ones who hindered the protection of their communities, or lacked humility and thoughtfulness. I pray that believers will excel in the admonition of Romans 12:10 “Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor.”

Redeem the Time
We’ve been given a rare opportunity to stop. We have the legitimate reason to rest, to take time to read and reflect, and to literally slow down and connect deeply with those in our homes.

If you’re a mom of little ones—my heart goes out to you right now as you’re attempting to find creative ways to structure the day without having the opportunity to visit playgrounds, museums, or have play dates with friends. But, I’m hopeful that this will be a time of deep bonding among families, a time your children will look back on with memories of lots of laughter, board games, building blanket forts, enjoying home-education, with the learning and growth that flourishes in times of difficulty.

If you’re single and feel isolated, take this opportunity to dig into the Word, start a new online Bible study, connect with friends by phone that you’ve not communicated with in a while, send out a few cards to spread hope, see how you might be able to serve your neighbors, the elderly in your church family, or a mom who’s overwhelmed with childcare responsibilities right now.

As believers, we have many ways we can “redeem the time” today through personal spiritual growth and service. We will probably have to get creative with ways to do this, but let’s seek God together in how He would have us use this time for His glory. Let’s not waste it by getting into online arguments and selfish reactions.

“See then that you walk circumspectly, not as fools but as wise, redeeming the time, because the days are evil.” (Ephesians 5:15—16)

Demonstrate that God is Worthy of our Trust
As I’ve visited on the phone with young moms this week, it’s apparent that they are grappling with fear. And maybe you are as well. There’s a lot of scary news out there right now, and some of you know that your family may have already been exposed to a virus we know very little about. This is the type of life-altering event that you might have never considered before. Let me assure you, none of this has taken God by surprise. None of this is beyond His care.

Take this opportunity to soak in the truth of who God is—He is sovereign. Think about what that means. Spend some time grappling with the beauty and wonder of chapters like: Job 42, Psalm 46, Genesis 50, Exodus 14—15, and what I call the richness of Isaiah’s forties (Isaiah chapter 40—chapter 49). Consider the fact that God is able. He is able to accomplish His purposes, and He is good in all that He does. He does not forsake His own. He is a good and kind Father, who is at work, even when we doubt that He is aware of what we’re facing.

Teach your children the verse that we shared with out little ones recently:

“When I am afraid, I will put my trust in You.” (Psalm 56:3)

Or this one:

“When the earth totters, and all its inhabitants, it is I who keep steady its pillars.” (Psalm 75:3)

How about you?

How are you responding to these days? I pray you aren’t wasting this opportunity. May the message and work of the gospel spread more quickly than the destruction of this virus.