It depends on . . .

Don’t you just “love” when you ask what appears to you to be a focused question and the person to whom you are speaking starts his or her answer with, “It depends on . . .”  Yeah, I have heard that a lot lately as I discuss product specs for my new company, Two Step Solutions.  My husband is a brilliant mechanical engineer and a bit more focused than me, I guess.  There is so much to consider so it depends on this or that parameter, application, material, use, and so on.  Yet this reply can be a bit maddening too, ya know?  :}]

Enter here a somewhat unusual perspective on the somber topic of suffering.  I would have never wanted to hear a blanket answer as to how to handle my own private hell.  I understand that Ravi Zacharias and Vince Vitale gently take an “it depends on”  approach in their new book, Why Suffering.  They recognize that for Christians, suffering poses both intellectual and emotional challenges:  God loves and cares about all of our needs yet desires to meet us amidst the unique circumstances in which we find ourselves in as well.  Here are some further insights from Vince Vitale in the Fall 2014 Issue of RZIM:  Quarterly News, Views, and Insights.

But while pain can be a great obstacle (to belief in Christ), it is also one of the greatest reasons to turn to God.  The more seriously we take the problem of suffering — indeed, the more seriously we take the people who suffer — the more we will be led to trust the God who can do something about it.

The challenge, I find, is that what each person needs when suffering is very personal.  There is no one-size-fits-all . . .  Ultimately, what we need is the presence of a loved one.  And when we have the chance to be that loved one for another, our temporary presence can act as an invitation to a life with the One who is always present.  One of the greatest gifts of the Christian life is that you never need to wonder if a loved one is near; you never need to wonder if a loved one understands.  That Person is always with you even within you.

While suffering can be traced back to humanity’s fall into sin, Jesus is clear that we cannot assume from the fact that a person is suffering that it is their fault or that they are being punished.  A second distinctive of the Christian response to suffering is this:  God promises that one day He will wipe away every tear.  What an amazing claim, that God himself will wipe away our tears.

And perhaps most unique is that the Christian God chose to suffer with us.  Suffering’s greatest cruelty is its isolation.  The Christian never suffers alone.  (We point) emphatically to the Cross of Jesus Christ, to the Cross of the only God loving enough to suffer with us and for us.  (p. 7)

May these words encourage you or your loved ones who are suffering.  While the experience of suffering is unique to each of us, we are not alone in our time of need.  God takes our angst seriously, suffers with us, and will deliver us one day.  My prayer is that you will seek comfort in the person of Jesus Christ who loves you more than anyone, more than you can ever imagine.  His Scripture reassures us this fact in Psalm 139:17-18:

How precious to me are your thoughts, God!
    How vast is the sum of them!
18 Were I to count them,
    they would outnumber the grains of sand—
    when I awake, I am still with you.

And that’s way more than my words can say.  Take care Gentle Reader and do let me know how I may pray for you, k?  JJ

Psalm 139 17 18

White light and angels

They were tall, white angelic beings moving towards me amidst a glow of an even brighter light.  I did not understand what was happening at the time as I was just waiting there with the figures floating towards me.  More of them were to the right than to the left; or maybe I could not see them as if blinded by sunlight.   But this was not sunlight.

I sensed them coming closer, around behind my right arm as if to escort me somewhere.  I began to drift forward.  Then I stopped.  Why had I stopped?  Was not this the right way to go?  And then the words spoken to me were felt more than heard:  it is not time yet.  And they were gone.  No light.  No angels.  Just the darkened images remained inside my mind that are always there when one’s eyes are closed.  When I opened my eyes I saw the inside of the camper all around me.  Most importantly, I WAS ALIVE!

Quickly realizing what had just happened, I groaned for strength deep within me that was not available in my listless frame.  “I have to open the windows!” I exclaimed inside my head.  Horror nearly immobilized me.  Could I do it?  Could I reach it?  Which window?  How do I open them?  Let’s see, first I have to get up on my elbows to push myself up.  Then lean forward to create momentum and reach out my arms to grab the back of the dinette.  Slide forward and get my legs onto the floor to bear weight to stand.  There, that’s it.

By the grace of God I was able to get the window opened and reach up to open the ceiling vent further before carefully collapsing back into bed.  “Just avoid hitting your head on the bunk over you,” I thought to myself.  Soon I could feel the rush of cool, fresh air on my face and arms.  I took in a deep breath, reviving further.  I was going to be o.k.  Sigh.  What the heck had happened to me?

Some might call it a near-death experience.  Others might label such an experience as a hallucination from toxic fumes.  I prefer to call it an experience in another dimension that I cannot fully explain.   Perhaps a second chance at life.  For several hours prior to this vision of sorts in my “mind’s eye” (not really seen as I looked around and not really imagined with my eyes closed) I had struggled with seizure attacks and convulsions.  This happens about every week or so that I endure much of a day with continuous noxious episodes.  This past weekend landed me with two days like this in a row!  Such is life in the mysterious world of mercury and unknown toxicity.  The typical episode triggers of hunger, thirst, needing to void, feeling cold, fragrances, waking up, falling asleep, mold, or food sensitivities did not apply that day.

We had arrived in Alabama at about 4:00 a.m. after over 15 hours of travelling by truck, towing our travel trailer cross-country.  Temperatures the next day were still around 40 degrees in the deep South when my beloved ventured off to see his son-n-wife at Fort Rucker Army base nearby.  It was usual for me to stay behind after long ventures to rest up, hoping to visit with everyone later the next day.  After sleeping about 7 hours I had made myself a breakfast of my special diet leftovers and yummy coconut almond milk.  My tummy was satisfied yet I still felt groggy so I returned to our comfy bed.  Gratitude filled my thoughts for having a safe place in which to retreat with all the provisions that I would need away from home . . .

Clearly some provisions I did not need after all!  Our crochety campground water spicket was frozen solid so we were unable to hook-up fresh water to the camper and use the toilet as designed.  Gratefully some of our emergency gallons of water were starting to thaw so we had a reserve for flushing the toilet and drinking the next morning.  But unfortunately since we had departed from the frigid North the day before, we had to take our entire journey with a camper still winterized with “non-toxic” RV antifreeze.  All of the drains and toilets were still filled with the scent of the pink stuff.  Not thinking about the mixing of products, we used some windshield washer fluid to flush the toilet a couple of times.  Then when I was concerned that the toilet waste solids would congeal, I tossed in a Bio enzyme pack, earth friendly of course, with barely a scent of pine or something.  Pink and blue and green make . . . ?  Something not nice, I now understand!

Before we crashed into bed, we had already opened the overhead vents to help control condensation inside our unit.  What I did not realize is that a window I had also opened in the morning was above the venting for the propane furnace!  I’m not sure what chemical compounds might have made their way back into our living space since the carbon monoxide detector had not been activated.  Maybe I just don’t do well with propane gas altogether.  Who knows?  What I do know is that the noxious mixture nearly sent me to heaven!

Sadly after eating that morning it was all I could do to get to the bathroom and collapse onto the bed instead of the floor.  I could not, did not move for a very long time.  Slow thoughts of my inability to move, recognition of my awkward positioning, wondering how long Steve would be gone, the location of my cell phone all dawdled through my head.  And they stayed there.  There was nothing I could do about anything and I wasn’t even sure exactly what to do anyways.  My thoughts were dulled into a kind of motionlessness that was similar to my poisoned body.  In time the white light and angels came.  In time I was able to get up as described earlier.  In time Steve came home and found a broken shell of a woman recovering quietly in our bed.  Many tears followed.

*************************************

Death is a funny thing.  You think you know all about it from watching others pass away then transitioning into a waxy state lying in a wooden box placed in a funeral home parlor decorated like an old rerun of The Beverly Hillbillies.  Sermons, Biblical passages, and Christian authors have much to say about this life and the next but until you face it yourself the words simply won’t mean much.  The unexpected BENEFIT of having a severe illness that brings daily seizure attacks and convulsions is that every day I get to face death in addition to the newness of life.  My breathing stops and it starts back up again.  From a spiritual standpoint, THIS IS NOT A BAD THING!  As a result, each day I take practically nothing for granted as life and some goodness are imparted to me.  This process is extremely humbling.  I have also learned that death is not something to be feared . . .

Many years ago a friend, Louise, shared with me an audio tape of Pastor David Jeremiah in which he stated,

“God’s man in the center of God’s will is immortal until God is through with him.”

Oh yes.  I have now lived through many brushes with death and seen this to be true!  So where do I go from here?  I’m not quite sure, really.  What I am sure of is that I will probably write about it!  You will be the first to know my beloved Gentle Reader when the inspiration comes.  Until then how about if we keep the windows open on the opposite side of the furnace, take care of ourselves as best we can and keep our eyes fixed on the Lord.  The light of His love will surely shine upon us all the days of our lives until He calls us home.  As for me, I will be ready.  How about you?  JJ

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