Come Heal with Me. Week 10

Thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over...

Mother Wrote: Kaddesh

God, our holiness

God, our satisfaction

Toward the end of this section, which talks about how life can hurt and cut and bruise, Mother wrote "Start" where it says:

David says, "Thou anointest my head with oil, my cup... He didn't say "our heads" or "our cups."

It is the singular, personal pronoun.

All day long the shepherd is concerned with the flock. But as they go into the fold, he takes them one by one...

...He stand at the door of the fold and checks them one by one.

Mother Wrote: God has the power of the universe and the power to take care of me.

Mother Underlined Portions of: Remember how, as little children, we would bruise a finger or stub a toe. We would come running to Mama, who would kiss the hurt away. There was a mystic healing in her loving concern.

...a heart can be broken.

I Write: ...and so it can.

It's 9:35 p.m. This day has held more tears than I can imagine any day should. I took a shower not too long ago and cried more tears than I knew I had water within me. Certainly more than the spray splashing against my body and falling, along with my sorrow, to the tile beneath my feet.

Oh, my precious Jesus.

Do you see me at the gate?

Is there healing for my wounds?

Water for my thirst?

Rest for the tired and the weary?

If only life were about one day, one hurt.

If only we went out into the brutal world one time and return to the fold but once. Instead, we go out long day after long day. The path is familiar and yet still it's rocky. It rambles. It twists and turns.

If only...

Perhaps, I think, life hurts the most when we allow anything other than God to jockey for position of "satisfier."

Father, I am at the end of the day. I am tired. Broken. Bruised.

I am standing at the gate of the fold.

Do you see me?

Come Heal with Me, Week 9

Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies.

Notes from the Book: In the pastures of the Holy Land, where shepherds lead their flocks, poisonous plants grow. Thorny thistles, whose needles penetrate the soft nostrils of the sheep, sprout up along the landscape.

If the sheep are to eat without the risk of pain or death, the shepherd must first prepare the fields.

A table, if you will.

Mother's Notes in the Margins: Nissi

Our standard of victory

school

My Notes: This chapter is more about the role of parents to keep their children safe (preparing the table for them) than anything else. Right now, it speaks to me loud and clear. How like God that I should read it now when my teen is up in arms over the boundaries we've set and closely guard.

Mother wrote "school." I don't know why for sure, but I can guess. For years she worked in food services at the schools in Screven County. She not only took part in the preparation, so to speak, of making sure no child went hungry, she also helped prepare their hearts. She loved them with her words. With her hugs. They loved her back.

"Hey, Mrs. P!" I heard over and over, from the very young she'd loved on the week before to the young adult she'd loved on years before.

"There was hardly a life in Screven County Mama didn't touch," my brother said after her death.

He had that right...

"Jehovan Nissi" she wrote.

"The Lord Our Banner." (Reference Exodus 17: 8-15)

I'm not sure why she focused on this name for God. Why not Jehovah Jireh, the Lord my provider.

Unless, of course, the point is that when rearing children, we truly are at war. Mother knew. She saw what was happening to society as a whole. She didn't like it, either. She did more than just feed and hug and love. She prayed over these children, whether they knew it or not.

I hear her say, "Don't forget, honey, to raise your arms to the Lord in battle for your children. Pray and take authority over the enemy, who wants to steal the young minds. The tender hearts. But our God is stronger than any enemy who wages war against us."

My hands are lifted, Mother. Do you see them?

There is another enemy. Death. Oh, I know... death is merely the portal by which we reach heaven's gates. Oh, then death, where is your victory? Where is your sting?

But it is my enemy because it took Mother and Daddy from me and my brother and all those whose lives they touched. But not death is not their enemy. No. For them, death was the shepherd, providing the table, clearing away the thorns, the poisonous flowers that are pretty to behold but oh so dangerous to nibble upon.

I wonder... as they breathed their last, could they hear the whoosh of the linen tablecloth as it fell over the table? The clink-clink of fine china and crystal? Could they smell the polish from the silver? The sweet mingling aromas of foods being placed around the table, and between the candelabras?

A table prepared for them that day.

A table prepared for me...one day.

Come Heal with Me, Week 8

Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me...

Notes from the Book: The sheep is a helpless animal. It has no weapon with which to fight. It is easy prey to any wild beast of the field. It is afraid.

But the shepherd carries a rod, which is a heavy, hard club.

Mother's Notes: Word. It is written. Sheep pass under rod 2 B counted. Royal scepter. The HS in OT. Scroll & Prophets.

Book: Also, the shepherd carried a staff...

Mother: Spirit w/n us

Book: ... with his staff the shepherd could reach down, place the crook over the small chest of the [fallen] sheep and lift it back onto the pathway.

It is a comfort to know the shepherd will be able to meet any emergency.

Many times we feel helpless; then we find comfort in realizing the power of God.

Mother: Mighty.

Book: Thy rod and Thy staff...

Mother: Thy Word & Thy Spirit...our faith is our rod and staff.

My Notes: What is more helpless than lying in a hospital bed, brain not functioning, depending on tubes and bags and machines just to exist? What is more helpless than hearing your children call out, "I love you" and in hearing being unable to respond back with no more than the shake of a shoulder. What is more helpless than standing on a ledge, hanging in the balance between earth and heaven, steps away from the mountains that will lead you homeward? What is more helpless than standing at heaven's gate--like Esther before the king's presence--waiting for the royal scepter to extend to you, waiting for permission to enter in to the King's presence?

Mother always said that one of my greatest attributes is my faith in God. Believing Him, no matter what life throws my way. Believing in Him.

No matter what...

Life has thrown some curve balls my way. A cliche, I know, but it's true. Still I believe in God. I believe God.

So, then Lord...if what Mother said is true...if what Mother noted in the margins of this book is true, Your Word protects me. I believe that.

When Mother was lying in the hospital bed, I read Scriptures to her.

Praise God in His sanctuary; praise Him in His mighty heavens. Praise Him for His acts of power; praise Him for His surpassing greatness (Psalm 150:1,2 NIV).

I will bless You as long as I live; in Your name I will lift up my hands (Psalm 63:4 ESV).

Come to Me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest (Matthew 11:28 NLT).

May the Lord of peace Himself give you peace at all times and in every way(2 Thessalonians 3:16 NIV).

Peace I leave with you, My peace I give to you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid (John 14: 27 NKJV).

No eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no mind has imagined what God has prepared for those who love Him (1 Corinthians 2:9 NLT).

Over and over I read these verses. With each reading, Mother stirred. She recognized Abba's words of truth, even in her current state. No brain damage could take them away from her, so ingrained were they. They had been her guide for so long, they were not about to stop being so because of some silly little aneurysm. They were the stick she always crossed under. They were the rod by which she was counted.

Thy Spirit saves me when I slip and fall...

Yesterday I had a meeting to attend. As I drove to Panera (the meeting place), the events of this past year slipped into the car unnoticed, then crawled into the front seat with me. The tears I'd held back gushed from my eyes. No warning. No little trickle followed by a wave. They poured out like water onto sand.

I cannot cry now! I won't be able to drive...to meet...to continue on with this day with its many appointments...

The Hebrew word for spirit is "ruwach." It means, among other definitions, "breath."

The breath of God...

Yesterday, as the tears came and the traffic in front of me blurred, I heard a tender voice say, "Breathe in...breathe out...breathe in...breathe out..."

And so I did. And I felt God's Spirit wash over me. Calming me. Rescuing me with the Shepherd's staff.

This is not the front time I've slipped and fallen since Mother died. It won't be the last. But each time, there is a staff to draw me back to my Savior. There is a rod with which to count me among those who will live with Him forever.

A scepter extended that says, "Welcome home..."

There, I will stand with Mother...and Daddy...and all those I have loved and lost to Heaven (both now and in the future) and I will sing, "Worthy ... worthy... worthy..."

Great Shepherd. Mighty King! Everlasting Prince of Peace.

Amen!

Come Heal With Me; Week 7

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.

Notes from the book: There is, the book says, an actual place called the Valley of the Shadow of Death in Israel. It stretches from Jerusalem to the Dead Sea and is a dangerous place for leading sheep. The Valley of the Shadow of Death is literally "the glen of doom" and can be many things, not just death.

Mother's notes: Lily of the Valley... Go through the valley to the mountain.

My notes:I know this area. I have seen it. Driven through it. Walked in it.

Lovely to behold. Dangerous, perhaps, to walk through.

The sheep are oblivious to the dangers, but the shepherd knows. The sheep think, "I have the shepherd; why should I worry?" while the shepherd trusts in his instincts...trusts in God.

The valley is not just death, Charles Allen wrote. But is there any valley deeper to walk through than death? Perhaps for the one passing over the valley to Heaven's Mountain, it is a place of peace and joy. A looking ahead to the moment of seeing God's face, to bask in the Presence of His glory, His magnificence. But for the one left behind or to be left behind...

It is an odd thing to watch someone die. To want the suffering to leave ("Death, come!") yet knowing that once it is over, it is done ("Death, stay away!").

I held Mother's hand. I watched it swell with fluid. I listened for days on end as machines pumped, as they breathed in and sighed. I held my own breath as she struggled with hers.

Rattling in the chest... danger on the mountain.

Suctioning meant struggle. Hers, physical. Mine, emotional.

Notes from the Book: I have said to many people in "the valley of the shadow of death" to get off by themselves in a quiet place. Quit struggling for a little while. Forget the many details. Stop your mind for a little while from hurrying on to the morrow and to the next year and beyond."

Mother's Notes: Sense peace.

Notes from the Book: Just stop. Become still and quiet.

Mother's Notes: Not easy.

My Notes: No, it's not...

But like the sheep wandering along the dangerous path, I am not alone. The Shepherd is with me. It is time, I think, to find moments of respite wherever and however I can find it. In the quiet places of my home, in the cafe of a bookstore, before the sparkling waters of a wide lake.

Find the Lily of the Valley, Eva... Stop long enough to drink in His beauty, to drink in His perfume.

"Be still and know that I am God" is just that.

It's being still.

It's knowing...

Blessed assurance...Jesus is mine.

Come Heal With Me; Week 6

He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake.

Notes from the book: The book's author, Charles L. Allen, writes of God's direction. Like a shepherd, He guides, he does not "drive" His sheep as would a cattle rancher. When decisions have to be made...which road to take, which path to choose...the shepherd guides.

Mother's Notes in the Margins: Tsid Kenue. God, our Righteousness.

My Notes: When I was in Israel in 2007, my dear friend and coauthor of Reflections of God's Holy Land; A Personal Journey Through Israel, Miriam Feinberg Vamosh pointed to the circular paths that wound around verdant hills. She said, "These are circular paths, made by the shepherds leading their sheep in a safe manner."

The paths don't lead up or down. The poor sheep, with their poor vision, would become afraid. Or worse, fall to their deaths.

Miriam said, "When David wrote about paths of righteousness, he was talking about circular paths."

Wherever God leads, there is safety.

I think now of that moment when my brother Van and I were led into that little, nicely-decorated room and given the bad news of Mother's current and future condition and what the doctors expected, which was the worse. I remember how I felt as I walked behind the doctors and in front of Van. It didn't seem real, and yet it was very much so.

I had gone online the day before and studied everything I could about Mother's condition and about the signs and symptoms I'd recorded from the medical personnel. I already knew about the Glascow Coma Score. I knew the brain damage was severe.

What I didn't know was why. Why had God brought us to this place, to hear this news. Would God, I wondered, lead us down a path in which Mother, who loved life and the living of it, could be solely dependent on one of us for her every need?

I said to my brother, "What I fear more than her dying, is her living."

For two days, we continued to allow God to guide. The path chosen was that he would take her Home to be with Him. And now, without her as our maternal and spiritual guide, we continue to follow Him in the days, weeks, months and years we are left without her.

I re-read that passage after taking my notes. He leads me in circular paths for righteousness sake.

Tside Kenue, Mother wrote. God, our righteousness.

So what if God leads us down those circular paths in order to bring about his own plan of righteousness or for righteousness sake? What was gained out of all this?

Mother reached her eternal reward, yes.

But Van and me? We are a little more spiritually wise, a little more spiritually broken. But I don't think we will fully know for a while yet all that God had/has in mind.

After all, the sheep don't know they are on a safe path or where that path will lead. They only know to follow their shepherd; that he will care for them, guide and direct them, along the way. We can ask for no more from our Shepherd, can we?

Proverbs 3:6: In all thy ways acknowledge him and he will direct they paths.

Come Heal With Me; Week 5

He restores my soul...

Notes taken from the book: When the sheep leave the sheep pen, they march out in an order they will keep the whole day. But sometimes the sheep wander away from the path. Some will walk away from the shepherd and he, in turn, will go after the one. Other times, the sheep will walk toward the shepherd, looking for a touch, a whisper, and a way back to the fold. The shepherd guides the anxious fellow back to the path for his day.

Mother wrote in the margins: Rapha-- healer.

Protected by God with giant and Saul.

Psalm 32 & 51.

Mother is referencing David's affair with Bathsheba. David had walked away from God and was wounded in his soul in the process.

My notes: When David sinned with Bathsheba, and after he was caught, he ran to God and begged for restoration. But sometimes it is not our sin that drives us off the path, it's life. Living holds all sorts of elements that will suck all life from our lungs.

And life is air.

Air is life.

Impossible to breathe moments.

Without the ability to inhale fully, we are left without enough oxygen to sustain life. We cannot go forward on the path because we are nearly lifeless.

When God breathed air into Adam's nostrils, he (Adam) became alive. Fully alive. Awakened to all there was around him. Blinking in the bright life of the Father's presence, he stared then into the face of his Creator.

Life, for Adam, was new and full of possibilities.

When Adam sinned, he was driven away from the Garden. But he was not driven away from God. God, his Shepherd, never turned his back on Adam. God continued to love and guide him, throughout all his joys, throughout all his sorrows.

When life sucked the air out of Adam, God was walking alongside him, waiting for this one sheep to come over for a touch, a whisper, a nudge.

Restoration.

Holding Mother as she had her first hemorrhage was a life-sucking event. The look in her eyes--the lack of life within them--haunts me still. The immediate knowledge that this was more than being sick to her stomach and a headache.

Seeing her second seizure.

Her head shaved.

Studying the symptoms online to gain better understanding of her illness.

Listening while doctors and nurses gave the news, always bad...never good.

Letting her go...

Her release of life was my release of life. But the Shepherd stands close by. I can choose to walk away from him or toward him...

...For a touch.

A whisper.

A nudge...

Restoration.

Come Heal With Me; Week 4

He leads me beside still waters.

Notes taken from the book (God's Psychiatry): Sheep are afraid of moving water. This is based on instinct; because of their thick woolly coats, they cannot swim. When sheep are thirsty, they will drink only from still water.

If there is no still water around, this presents a problem for the shepherd. So, while the sheep are resting (He makes me to lie down in green pastures), the shepherd gathers rocks to form a watering pool of still water.

The shepherd understands the fear of his sheep and provides a way of peace and safety.

Mother's Notes Written in the Book: Jehovah shalom (written not once, but twice in the margins). God of peace. God of still waters.

My Notes: After reading these words, I walked into my home and realized--for the first time--that as soon as one enters, the peaceful view of the lake is there. When the water is still, it looks like a pool of ink laying on the canvas of the world. It calls to me from nearly every room...but how often do I go out, sit, and drink of its beauty? Of its respite? Of its peace?

Not often enough.

But I have come to realize that long before I lost Mother, long before I began my struggle with "why?", God was at work gathering stones to form a place of peace where I can heal. The wound of losing Mother to heaven will never be fully healed until I join her there and stand before the Throne of Grace & Mercy with her, shouting "All glory and hallelujah" to the Prince of Peace and to his Father, Jehovah Shalom. But until then, God has prepared a place for me, where I can "drink" of His peace.

My notes to you: Where is your place of peace? Where can you go to find respite, to drink from God's goodness, from His Word, from the quiet he whispers into your soul? You may not have a dock jutting out over a lake. Your place of peace may be the shower, the commute train or the car. It may be your closet or the walk from the front door to the mailbox. Like Suzanne Wesley, mother of John & Charles, you may have to sit in a corner, throw your apron over your head, and demand a moment of peace (most mothers will relate to this). Even if only for a moment each day, find a place where you can be quiet. Take a short walk. A long walk. Whatever you need to do...but make a time of quiet. Of stillness.

My dear friend Robert Benson once told me, "Eva Marie, the only person who knows what God has whispered into your heart is you; but you won't hear him if you don't hush."

A famous line (misquoted) by Emerson goes like this: Let us be silent that we may hear the whisper of God.

Find the place God has prepared for you. It's easy to do. Just look for the rocks...