Grief & Joy - Year 3

 

It’s been 3 years since I woke to this day in 2018. I remember it well.....Chuck had been on hospice for 3 months almost to the day.....he had fished on the dock the day before and finished a tough week of struggle. But that Monday morning as I climbed out of bed early to spend time with God, I stopped at the foot of the bed and watched him breathe. I remember thinking, “He’s breathing better....I think he’s past last week’s struggle”. I shut the door quietly, fixed a cup of coffee and turned my favorite lamp on next to the old worn out chair with a hole in the upholstery I had sat in for 17 years. It had been about half an hour that God and I chatted that morning when I felt a strong urging to go wake Chuck up. As I opened the bedroom door, I knew. I just knew. I went and sat on the edge of the bed next to him.....his arm was still warm....and peace was written all over his face. 

 

Interesting how Joy and Grief can occupy ones heart at the same time. But it can. And it does. And it did. 

 

I stroked his beard, held his hand that wore that scratched-up gold ring on his left finger I had placed there many years before. And with mixed tears, thanked him for being such a wonderful husband and friend to me over the years. I told him how jealous I was of what he was experiencing with God at that very moment. I must admit, when we married 20+ years earlier, we didn’t really know God all that well. But we came to know Him living in the quietness next to a lake. 

 

Life slowed down at that moment....and I didn’t want this moment to end.

 

In those last three months of Chuck’s life, we were given the gift of Time. Time to talk about how the grave is simply a place for our bodies....the vehicle that got us through this life on earth.....but wasn’t where our soul would reside. 

 

We had many good conversations.....talked about how each Season of our life is necessary. How we humans are much like the trees and flowers.....we bloom with newness in the Spring....full of energy....full of beauty. Then the harshness of the Summer sun tempts to make life hard.....burn the edges of our newness and the struggles of life attempts to knock us down and hurt us. We look older because of the harshness of the sun (life) beating down on us....no longer as beautiful as we once were in the Spring. But what the summer sun does do is make us stronger and fight harder. We’re stronger than we were in the Spring because we’re fighting for survival from the Summer sun. 

 

And then Fall arrives.....the leaves are more brittle....leathery from the fight of Summer.....and suddenly, we become like Spring again....our leaves/lives change into these beautiful colors ...brilliant reds and yellows and we now understand the meaning of life. We welcome the soft cooler breezes on our burnt skin and are much wiser than we once were. 

 

We start to lose the fight of hanging onto the limb of the tree....we feel ourselves weakening....and we know, Winter is right around the corner. And then we feel ourselves letting go of the limb.....and falling much like a parachuter falls from the sky and slowly floats to the ground. We may be on the ground looking up into the sky, but we’re still alive. And it’s from that vantage point, we welcome, staring up into the Winter sky, our final destiny. And we feel the energy draining from our bodies.....until beautiful red of Fall is now brown.....and dissolves into the ground until Winter is over and Spring arrives once more. The nutrients from our death reappear in new growth. 

 

And the fact that God never had to make the leaves go from green to red is not lost on me. There’s no purpose that I know of that He couldn’t have made it go from green to dead. But for our sake.....for our eyes to witness the cycle of life and beauty.....He “created” that leaf to go through seasons.....just like He created us to do...

 

Just because He loves Us. 

 

Happy Heavenly Birthday, Chuck.

I will always love you.

And She Said "Yes"

 

I think I knew he was “the one” when I received the letter titled “Dear Chuck” and it was dated March 21, 2021....Chuck’s birthday.

It started off like this:

“Dear Chuck,

I wanted to say Happy Earthly Birthday to you. I’m thinking you might know my life history and what’s happening now, but on the inside, it’s been an amazing few months. As you, Cyndi, Liz and I know, God has been directing our lives for many years. Liz has told me so much about you and your son and his family. I know you were a very special man from everything I’ve read in Liz’s blog. A few week’s ago, she shared the story of her wedding ring and what happened when she went to have it repaired. I will never forget the look in her eyes when she shared that story with me. The love poured out for you and it was beautiful. I’ll never forget it.”

As I read this letter, tears were dripping down my face. I hadn’t shared the story of the ring with many.....only those I knew would understand. And this man understood. We were in the exact same place in our grief process....in our time alone without our partners...and our confusion about the future. See, our spouses died on the exact same day, four hours apart.

The letter went on:

“Liz is an answer to many prayers and continues to make my heart full. I’m not sure what God has planned for us, but I wanted to ensure you that I will treat her with the utmost respect. I will care for and protect her. I believe God gave me an opportunity at this time in my life to know love again and not only with Liz, but with a renewed love for our Lord and Savior. “

Tears are falling even now as I reread this letter to you. He went on to tell Chuck how much he admired him and the courage it took to fight Multiple Sclerosis. His wife, Cyndi, had also fought a long battle; hers with cancer, and he knew the courage and determination it takes to fight such diseases. He knew, because he too had been a caregiver for Cyndi just as I had for Chuck.

This past Tuesday evening, in a plane high above Frisco seven months and 86 dates after our paths crossed and we discovered the definition of Joy again, he had me look out the side window and see the lighted words, 

 “Marry Me” 1000 feet below. I said “Absolutely Yes”. 

 

It has been both of our prayers since losing Cyndi and Chuck, that if we were meant to find a partner to finish out this 4th quarter of our lives with, that God would make it abundantly clear to us. I believe He answered that prayer in the boldest, most unpredictable way He could. And He sent me Wayne Sekerke.

 

We will always celebrate Chuck and Cyndi’s Homecoming Day of November 5, 2018....but from now on, we’ll celebrate them together.

 

I - Am - A - Proud - Texan - American

 

 July 4, 2021

 

As I was standing on the 4th level of the Texas State Capital Building in Austin, I suddenly heard amongst all the echos of voices, a small voice way in the background singing a familiar tune. I stopped exploring and navigated my way to the center where I looked down over the 4th floor banister and onto the rotunda below of our Texas State Capital (which was fashioned after the Washington state capital, BTW). I saw my brother-in-law Brady standing in the center, amongst all the visitors, the people taking pictures, the kids yelling and people talking, and singing God Bless America. He wasn’t singing to them, but rather, appeared to be singing to America.

As I watched him boldly looking up, hat in hand, singing God Bless America and America The Beautiful, it brought chills to my arms as I asked myself the honest question of whether I was bold enough to do what Brady had just done.

I can honestly tell you, I’ve never been more proud of my brother-in-law Brady as I was at that moment.

As he neared the end, others started joining their voices with his throughout the massive rotunda. We could hear their voices echoing throughout the entire capital this 4th of July 2021...most of them foreigners just happy to be living and visiting in a free country.

And when the voices had come to an end, one last voice was heard above all others: AMEN.

This weekend taught me many things, but mostly that people still care...people are still proud....and that most of those proud people were people most likely not born here. The four of us were certainly in the minority this 4th of July as we visited our State Capital.

Thank you Brady, for reminding us how Beautiful America is .....and how God certainly has blessed this great state and country of ours.

 

Dr. Brady Rusk - Texas State Capital

HOPE (Revised from 6/2017)

 

HOPE

lizetheridge

This next week marks the beginning of Chapter 61 in the Life of Liz.

And there's just something about being another year older that causes you to reflect back on Chapters 56 or 40 or 20 in your life. Don't get me wrong....I'm looking forward as much as I'm reflecting backwards, but when you look back on spent chapters in your life, you are able to see with clarity....20-20 vision....the pouring out of Grace into your very soul. You remember the Sufferings.....but you also see the ripples from your Endurance muscles increasing because of the suffering.

"Suffering Produces Endurance....." (Romans 5:3)

And because your endurance muscles are more toned and strong now, your character starts changing. You start caring more for others than you do for yourself. Your heart starts breaking for the things that breaks God's heart. Those fancy clothes or expensive vacations you once treated yourself to for years, well.....they become less important as your character changes. Your focus changes to those who are suffering, just as you once did, and you long to help them....instead of yourself. You start to take on the character of God.....

"Endurance Produces Character....." (Romans 5:4)

And suddenly, you get to Chapter 61 or 75 or 90, and you find this chapter is full of Hope. Hope....because God's love has poured continuously into your heart through the Suffering....through the Endurance....and now through the gift of Hope of the Holy Spirit. You see the common thread of God's finger in your life that has gotten you to where you are.

"Character Produces Hope....." (Romans 5:4)

And this crazy wonderful wild Hope......well, it's the very Heart of Jesus.

 

That Face

THAT FACE.....

It’s been a part of my life for the past 18-1/2 years. And just when I thought I would never be able to be a grandmother, I was adopted by Isabella Grace and became Lele.

Infertility kept me from having children of my own, but it was just like God to offer me a better plan by gifting me with a granddaughter named Bella.

And today....a day she has been waiting for most of her life, she will walk across that stage....standing tall, head held high and confidence tucked tightly and securely in her back pocket....and hold that piece of parchment that represents a mountain of hard work. In my opinion, that hard work was worthy of far more than a piece of paper.

My granddaughter is headed to Grand Canyon University in the Fall.....a place that defines the person that she is. It’s the perfect place for a girl who LOVES God more than anything or anyone....because its a university that VALUES God more than anything or anyone, unlike many of the universities in our country. It’s a perfect partner for her future.

And as we, her family and friends, sit in the stands of her Allen High School Eagle Stadium, the largest High School football stadium in the World that serves only one high school, will be cheering this amazing “woman” on as she turns the page in the Book of Bella. And we will be packing up our hearts to move a chunk of it to Grand Canyon University with her,

Blessed am I.....

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My Scratched Up Road To Salvation

 

I feel like an old friend has just returned home to me after having plastic surgery. Outwardly, they look different....but inwardly, they're the same. 

 

My Bible, the very Bible that helped me find my way to having a relationship with God just a few years ago, went to the book surgeon to be rebound in January after, among many other things, the entire Creation book of Genesis fell out and was discovered tucked behind the end-of-the-world book of Revelation after much use.

Awww...so good to have my old friend back home with me again.

 

Finish Line To Multiple Sclerosis

 

https://www.facebook.com/donate/778932829396804/

 

AS WE NEAR THE FINISH LINE for collecting donations for the Multiple Sclerosis Round Up Bike Ride 2021 this Saturday to beat MS, I thought I would share one more story about Chuck you may not have known about him.

He lived with Multiple Sclerosis for a little over 30 years. One minute he was cutting wood, the next he was on the ground and couldn't walk. Just like that. Welcome to the World of Multiple Sclerosis.

During those 30 years, he lost his eyesight for a short time only to have it come back after a week. He couldn't feel his feet at all, so when he was able to walk, his eyes were always on his feet confirming they were where they were suppose to be. This ultimately caused him to run into a steel exterior stairwell and break his neck in 2000 as he was verifying where his feet were.

He lost many of his teeth due to years of steroids which also damaged his heart; and he took steroids knowing this would most likely cause problems elsewhere. But his philosophy on life till the day he died was "Quality over Quantity".

All of these things might have slowed him down a bit, but it never stopped him. Never.

He rode shotgun all over this great country of ours on the back of a Honda Goldwing Trike after teaching his wife (me) how to drive one so he could feel the wind in his face once again just as he had in the days prior to Multiple Sclerosis. Not many men would have been man enough to do that. But Chuck did.

Why? Because he wanted to live while he was living.

Won't you consider sponsoring our team PRESS ON to help in the defeat of Multiple Sclerosis? It's tax deductible and who knows, maybe YOUR donation will be the donation that finds the cure!! Thanks! Liz Calloway Etheridge

Monday-Thru-Friday-Mom

 

Monday Thru Friday Mom

Lizetheridge

 

My Mom used to always say....”We need to hear a Monday thru Friday sermon” whenever she would hear a preacher preach another sermon on Moses....or Joseph.....or Noah. She wanted to be taught how to Biblically make it through a week of 3-bratty-kids-and-9-hour-work-days-in-a-hot-warehouse-to-make-ends-meet and still be thankful on Friday.

 

We used to chuckle when she’d say that but, we all knew what she meant. Life is hard....lonely....frustrating and messy. If only the weekend sermon could teach us how Jesus would have chosen to handle 3 bratty kids. Ya....I was the youngest of those three bratty kids and probably....NO....most assuredly, I was the brattiest of them all. 

 

Mom was the fireman of our family....constantly putting out fires of fighting children, a tired husband, keeping an 800 square foot house for a family of five spotlessly clean and cooking 3 meals when cooking wasn’t her “blessing”.

She put herself last and her family first. Always first.

 

“Motherhood is the exquisite inconvenience of being another person’s everything.”

 

After she passed away, I discovered I had ended up with her perfume. “Youth Dew” by Estee Lauder. I also discovered that by simply opening the perfume lid, I could instantly feel Mom’s presence in the room next to me. It was like she was standing right next to me. Tears would fall with the reality that it was all a mirage each time I would open that bottle. 

 

“A mother’s sense lasts long after she lets go.”

 

But Mom knew that by putting her own wants and needs aside and providing wisdom, kindness and praying thousands of prayers over her children for those Monday through Friday trials, she could successfully make it to the weekend.

"She opens her mouth with wisdom, and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue." Proverbs 31:26

 

Mom wasn’t perfect; but to me...she was everything I ever hoped to become.

 

Happy Mother’s Day.

World Free of MS Ahead.....

 

 

 I will never forget the day while, in the examining room of yet another doctor appointment, I read Chuck this quote from Charles Spurgeon,

“By perseverance, the snail reached the ark.”

I asked him what he thought Mr. Spurgeon meant. I will never forget his response as he answered in his slow, southern drawl as he lay on the examining table waiting on yet another doctor:

"No matter how he (snail) is feeling or how slow he's moving, he was constantly moving towards the Ark.  Imagine how he must have felt as the antelope ran by....and he was left in the dust.
But he kept on pressing on..... The way we all must do..... No-Matter-What."

See, Chuck saw himself as the snail. I remember leaning down and kissing him at that moment. His words were a reminder to me of all he had been through in the 30 years of living with Multiple Sclerosis. Of the hundreds, if not thousands, of doctor appointments he went to in hopes of finding a cure. The swollen feet, the canes, walkers and eventual wheelchairs that were as much a part of his life as his right arm. Yet I rarely heard this man complain. Rarely. When asked if he ever wondered “Why me?”.....his continual answer was, “Why NOT me?”

Chuck Etheridge lived the very best life he could with what he was given. And he never gave up hope for a cure in his lifetime. He maintained that hope till he breathed his last breath on November 5, 2018.

Unfortunately, a cure was not found during his lifetime, but we have the power to change that for someone else.....someone else who may be your husband, wife, daughter, son or grandchild facing MS one day.

For that reason, we will be riding in the MS Bike “Ride Of A Lifetime” in Chuck’s name under our Group Name, "Press On" this May 15, 2021 for the cure Chuck never gave up on. If you knew him, you’d know he would be so incredibly proud that you helped someone not have to live a life of disability as he once did.

Won’t you help by donating in Chuck Etheridge’s name to the Multiple Sclerosis Ride Of A Lifetime?  We are hoping to raise $2,018....an amount to honor the year he won the battle with MS.  Your donation is tax-deductible and will help Chuck’s journey with MS not be lived in vain.

We thank you for your love and consideration of being a part of the Cure.

The Story of Chuck


https://youtu.be/KdY2kWQ7q_0

https://mssociety.donordrive.com/participant/Liz-Etheridge

Meet Me In The Middle Of Your Story

“I once read that if a person has a part of their liver removed, it will grow back..regenerate itself.

I also know from personal experience that after a person loses their spouse, a portion of their heart gets buried in the casket or urn with them.  But much like the liver, the widow(er)'s heart can also grow back....regenerate itself.  It doesn't do it overnight....and it is often a painful regeneration growing process.

But given time, the heart WILL mend itself.

A few months ago, I met a widower who lost his cherished wife a few years ago.  A portion of his heart had also been buried in that urn with hers much like mine had been with Chuck's.  We shared the mutual experience of care-giving, watching someone you love fade and then the eventual death of a spouse.  It's a road no one can speak of or understand unless they've walked it.

And in our conversations on death, we discovered something interesting:   

 Our spouses died on the same day, same year, 4 hours apart.

Enter a quiet "Pause" in the conversation.

We became friends, talking regularly, sharing our hearts that were still in the regeneration process of healing.  We discovered that God was the most important thing in each of our lives.....and He had put both of us on the road to healing at the exact same moment.

And we discovered we were put on this road next to each other for a reason.

My time with Wayne has helped my heart heal and grow once again and I believe his has too.  We are now dating and taking our time to see where this might lead.  It's an interesting journey we are on....how our paths crossed....how our two hearts are now regenerating together....and how the parts of our hearts still in the urns with our spouses are still beating as strong for them as ever.  That will never die.  But the one thing we both know is that God smiled down on us, gave a wink, and is walking next to us as we journey on down this beautiful road of unknowns.  We are meeting in the middle of our stories....when our souls are worn....but wise.

Happy Birthday Wayne......you are so loved.”

Brokenness & Backpacks

 

I once had a dear friend who always sat on the front row, right-side-aisle most every Sunday at our church. She always sat alone and, its pure speculation on my part, but I think she sat on that front row to avoid the distractions that come from sitting anywhere else (plus, it put her close to the side door where she could make a quick exit when church was over).

It's been a few years now since Diane gave me this cross made out of rusty metal.....old nails really.....that has hung on the side of my hutch in the dining room. The day she handed it to me, she was smiling big. She was so proud to give it to me....thought I needed it.....and rushed it over to my house, complete with pretty paper in a bag and ribbon surrounding it. We had just finished a home study on Eucharisteo.....the act of giving Thanks.....thanks for everything.....even the massively broken things in our lives.....and Diane had a lot of broken things in her life.

She passed away a few summers later.....unexpectedly.....and silently. I pray she knew Jesus was climbing that broken mountain with her and that He carried a backpack with her name on it to put all the broken pieces from her life into.

I wish I had been a better friend and helped her transfer those broken pieces from Her back to His.

I wish......

But my wish for you, my friend, is to know the whole purpose of the empty cross is so you no longer have to carry the sharp, cutting broken pieces of your life anymore. If you just call out to Him...."Come quick, Lord, I need You"....He'll carry the burden & weight of your broken pieces in that specially made & personalized backpack with your name on it.

Because He loves you.

"Don't Quit In The Pit"

 

So....I wrote this article a few years ago as I found myself climbing out of the Pit of death, grief and recovery. Like a scar that never quite goes away but tells its own unique story of how it got there, this popped back up this week and I wanted to share it for that "someone" out there who needed the reminder to never quit in the Pit.

There is this invisible hole we all long to climb into when times get tough. When flood waters come, when cancer knocks on the door, and when death happens while we sleep. We get our shovels out and we dig.....we dig until the Pit is big enough to crawl into and we can no longer be seen. We sit with our knees curled up to our chests as we rock back and forth, in perfect sync with our pain.

If you haven't taken that shovel off the wall of your garage yet and started digging, you will someday. It's not a matter of WILL you....its a matter of WHEN will you.

I sat out next to a fireless-firepit this past Saturday with my dear friends Jack and Marlane as my realtor showed the house to a potential buyer. It was cold, misting rain and my coffee had moved from hot to cold in an instant. We talked about the Pit....the Pit that swallows us up during times of crisis and heartache and how, when life comes crashing down all around you and nothing looks familiar anymore, the Pit is the only place you long to be. You want to be alone with your sorrow....feel the comfort and proximity of the walls around you and feel the familiarity of your knees wrapped tightly in your arms. It's a place of comfort....for awhile.

Right after Chuck passed away, I picked up the shovel to start digging my Pit. I wanted to be in that Pit almost as bad as I wanted to sit and eat an entire Becky-Arterbury-Buttermilk-Pie alone. But.....I couldn't. Every time I'd pick up that metaphoric shovel, someone would come up and say, "Come on, you need to go to coffee"....."Let's go to The Stand"...."Keep Moving...Keep Breathing...Keep Out of the Stinkin' Pit, Liz." And before long, the Pit lost its appeal.

And in the words of my friend Jack, when we look up from that dark quiet Pit of despair, we see a pinhole of Light. We see a roll-down ladder heading straight towards us...and no matter how deep your Pit might be, it is not too deep for God's ladder to reach you....and rescue you.

There is beauty in your despair. You just need to remember to look up.

Letter To Myself In 10 Years

 

"Letter To Myself In 10 Years"

lizetheridge

*

I read a story the other day about a 12 year old girl who died suddenly from pneumonia. While going through her belongings, her family came across a letter she had written......to herself.....and was not to be opened by herself until she was 22.

She never saw 22.

In this letter to herself, she wrote what she dreamed she'd be like in 10 years. It was beautiful. She knew herself better than anyone, yet, she didn't know herself at 22.

So, what if we all wrote a 10-year letter to ourselves? What would we say, what would we hope for ourselves? On this cold, snowy morning, I thought I'd share my 10-year letter with you before licking it closed and placing it in a safe place to be opened in 2031.

Dear Liz,

I guess by now when you open this letter, you are almost 71 years old. You will be a few years past Social Security, if there even still is a Social Security. Most likely your sweet pup, Molly, will be at the Rainbow Bridge and the aches and pains of being almost 71 will be creeping up on you.

Your granddaughters are now 26 and 28, probably out of college and possibly married.....starting lives of their own.

Is God still first in your life, Liz? Do you still wake up each morning, grab a cup of coffee and spend one-on-one time with Him? Do you still cry when you see a cardinal or hear the song Amazing Grace? Are your eyes still focused on the miracles all around you? Are you still grateful for everything.....even the hard things?

I hope you concentrate less on your "stuff" and more on others. I pray you are still finding magic through the lens of your camera, capturing glimpses of heaven no matter where you are living.

But what if you aren't alive to read this in 2031? Do you know where you are? Did Jesus recognize you as a Follower of His the second you breathed your last breath or did He NOT know you because you were just a lukewarm Fan of His? I keep remembering that scripture in Matthew that says "You can enter God's Kingdom ONLY through the NARROW gate. The highway to hell is broad and its gate is wide for the many who choose that way. But the gateway to life is very narrow and the road is difficult and only a FEW ever find it." (Matthew 7:13).

So, I pray you are still on that narrow, bumpy road to eternity when you open this letter in 10 years.....dying to yourself each of the 3,650 days between then and now. Stay on the narrow road, my friend.....don't take the easy road. Love, Liz

"Don’t Be So Afraid of Dying That You’re Afraid To Live"

 

When I moved from the beauty of East Texas 6 months ago to the busyness of the city, I felt as if I was that one car you see on the nightly news heading TOWARDS the storm before a hurricane hits. And on the opposite side of the highway, were the thousands fleeing.

I moved straight-up in the middle of a pandemic to a bustling city full of people, and the city people were moving as fast as they could to the less populated country town I just came from. I won't lie; It definitely gave me pause wondering if I had misunderstood God's voice.

But each time I drive down this unique little street of 33 homes I now live on, located smack dab in the middle of a town of 100,000 people, I smile. I smile because I feel like my sweet little street is in the eye of a hurricane. And I know, without a doubt, I heard God loud and clear six months ago when He had me move there.

Our little street is the still, calm and quiet part of a worldly storm where the universe is swirling all around us at massive speeds and we're standing still. A place where everyone wants to know each other....waves as you drive by....and walks their new neighbor's dog when they're not able to. The ladies meet with their lawn chairs on the cul-de-sac during a pandemic so they can keep their sanity during this earth's moments of insanity.

The center of the storm is the best place to be during a hurricane of this world.

And I've been thinking a lot about our time on this earth while parked in the eye of the storm. How to live when you've got no idea how much time you've got left. I lost a lot of people last year I never thought I'd lose. Passed away suddenly, unexpectedly....tragically. I thought I had more time with them....but truth is, none of us know how much time we have left. We get up, we grab our coffee, check our email, walk the dog, eat a bagel and then do it all over again tomorrow.

And how did we made a difference yesterday? How will we make a difference today?

I heard someone say the other day, "We have to be careful that we don't cause more harm to ourselves by avoiding living life during the virus, than the virus itself might cause."

Truth be told, we all only have so much sand in the top of the hourglass of our lives. What we do with that remaining sand is completely up to us. Do we sit by watching it slowly, grain after grain, falling into history? Or do we realize, "You don't know how much time you have to live - so you have to make time to make the life you want to live."

Live for what matters, friends. Because you already know the one sure thing: You will die.

So the one and only question that remains and matters is: Will you live?

The Way Out

 

THE WAY OUT

lizetheridge

A man was walking down the street when he fell into a hole. The walls were so steep he couldn't get out. The man in the hole began to cry out for help.

Soon, a doctor walked by, heard the man's cries for help, wrote him a prescription, tossed it down the hole, and walked away. Before long, a priest walked by and heard the man calling out, "Father, can you help me?" The priest wrote a prayer, threw it in the hole, and walked away.

Finally, a friend came along. And the man asked the friend for help. The friend then made a bold, brave move: He jumped into the hole. The man who had been trapped was shocked. "Are you stupid? Now we're both stuck down here." But the friend said, "Yeah, but I've been down here before, and I know the way out."

This is the gospel, folks. God stood at the edge of a hole, and He heard people crying for help. But He didn't write us a prescription and throw it down the hole. He didn't pray and then walk away. He jumped into the hole. He sent us a Rescuer who put on skin and lived on the inside of every hole, every mess, every valley you could imagine.

He lived your life here on earth. He knows what its like to be you. He knows its impossible for you to get out of that hole without His help...and He hears your cries. He WANTS to jump into that hole you're in and help you find your way out.

JESUS IS THE LADDER.

And He uses us to be Hole-Hunters....Cry-Hearers....Jumper-in-ers. And if you've ever been in a hole and are standing on the street, it means you know the way out. Right now, all of us are in one of two places; we are either stuck in a hole.....or we're walking along the street, seeing holes all around and hearing only cries for help.

I don't know where you're at today....whether you're inside the hole begging for help out with a pile of prescriptions and prayers at your feet.....or whether you're on the street safe, free and rescued. All I do know is that Jesus wants to rescue you....He wants a RELATIONSHIP with you....whether its building a ladder side-by-side or jumping down into that hole together..... It's just that simple.

 

*Thanks to Jennifer Dukes Lee for the story above"

"Feeling Discombobulated?"

  

 

“I am with you and for you, Liz”.....is the opening line to my Jesus Calling book this morning.

 

 And then I read this day last year’s prayer in my journal. I had just turned a page in my life...passed the 1-year mark as a widow...sold the lake house and felt a "rescue" I had prayed years for.  A rescue I had begged God many times for.  My lifeboat had arrived and had delivered me to dry ground and safety and I could breathe once again without fear. I no longer considered myself "Job-ette":

I wrote:

 “I feel somewhat like Job coming out of the destruction and heart ache of his own life....losing everything including his family.....and finally seeing light at the end of the horizon....knowing that this time was coming to an end.  The despair and heartache, for whatever reason required in our lives...and then we see Your light rising from the end of the earth for us.  I wonder how long Job waited before he saw Your light rising on the horizon?“ 

 

God's timing.  If we’ll just quit looking at the world around us and the timing it sets for everything and, instead, look at God's timing, then our anxiety’s would be replaced with Joy and Thankfulness.  Because we can trust His timing...we can trust His plans for our lives...we can depend on being rescued from what comes next.   

The world is changing so fast....the life we once knew and loved and yes, took for granted, is going away.  It’s so incredibly easy to feel hopeless amongst the rubble of just this past week.  

 

But lets not forget; we were promised struggles as we journey down this narrow road: 

"I've told you all this so that trust Me, you will be unshakable and assured, deeply at peace.  In this godless world you will continue to experience difficulties.  But take heart!  I have overcome the world."  John 16:33 (The Message Version)

  

Not trying to tell God how to write, but if I had transcribed that scripture above, I would most certainly have put several exclamation marks after "I have overcome the world" and then left a blank _____ for us to write our own name in.  It's that powerful....and it's that needed.  

 

Take heart, _____ (insert your name)......God has already conquered this world!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

https://youtu.be/_f0seqzyhc4