Nudge or Shove?

Do you ever hear a still, small voice that nudges you to act? 

A very talented college student I know was suffering with an untreatable brain malady. The crippling pain  frequently confined her to a hospital bed at home.  She had to put her dreams of graduation and medical school on hold. I suspected she, and her mother, were battling fear and anxiety. 

For several months I ignored the recurring thought that I needed to call. I was ashamed of myself, and cowardly put it off again. 

When I finally spoke to the mother she was grateful. I apologized for my  delay. She repeatedly  said that the call came at just the time she most needed to share the burden with someone else. I  was humbled to realize my call was more than a polite token. For her, it was significant encouragement.  

Another friend told me that she was prompted to visit an ailing member of her church. She delayed, and he passed away. She was sorry that she'd missed the opportunity to give him a big final hug. 

She took a walk on the beach to think through her remorse. She said she recognized the nudge had come from God, and she asked him to boost the nudge to a shove next time. She was really upset by her failure to act. 

Then she found a whole sand dollar. For Christians the sand dollar is a symbol of Christ's birth, death, and resurrection. The ultimate message of His ministry is forgiveness. It was appropriate that she came upon a reminder of His continued work in her life. Now she has an object that reminds her of the lesson she learned: listen and act. 

Have you acted, and been blessed by the result? Conversely, have you ignored the prompt and regretted it? 

 Don't delay to make what could be a divine appointment.

How to Memorize Bible Verses

As an adult I find the task of memorizing Bible verses both challenging and very rewarding.

I start by breaking the verse(s) into phrases. Then I look for words I can abbreviate, or change into numbers. 

Then I add pictures and symbols. Pictures are much easier for me to remember than words, and I can visualize them in my head as cues to the phrases. Remember those synapses (sidebar)? They are increased with this method because I'm making connections with both hemispheres of my brain.
The right side uses the words, the left, the pictures.

Once I create a symbol for a key word I use it consistently (like the little circles in lines one and four, those represent the word "saints.")

Ephesians 1:15-19f

Then I repeat the phrases using the visual prompts until I have it memorized.

A tip: once you've memorized a verse, you must review it regularly to "keep" it.  

Try it out, and let me know how it works for you.

Regret, part 2

The story began in the blog post on January 17, Can One Regret a Prayer?

Dealing with the hospitalization, her injuries, and healing were a profound experience for me. I treasured the fierce mother love it rekindled. The outpouring of concern and care cascaded over me like a waterfall.  The whole ordeal excavated my faith to bedrock. I cherish those blessings.

As for Susanna, she came out of the coma with some jumbled word recall, and temporary lack of inhibition. Sometimes the results were funny. Late one night nurses called us to come calm her down. She had repeatedly punched in random numbers on the telephone trying to reach us. 

Each day she made noticeable progress toward nearly-complete recovery. Within a few weeks she was back home. Within a couple of months she was able to return to school, and shortly later could resume driving.

Of course I regret that Susanna was injured. I wish I’d learned those lessons in some other way that didn’t involve pain and suffering for my loved one.  

Did she discover treasure in the affliction?   She persevered when she mastered skills and strategies to tackle the new learning difficulties. She eventually graduated from college and found a job she enjoys and is successful doing. She’s commented on some lessons learned. She believes that the changes in her plans for college put her in the right place to meet her husband and subsequently create their loving family.

 I can see an additional benefit.  Her temper is slower to ignite, and the fireworks aren't as spectacular or prolonged as they once were. She’s less judgmental of others since she’s had to struggle with her own cognitive changes. 

At some point after the hurricane of hospitalization, therapies and support groups I thought back to my original prayer. I knew God well enough to know He hadn't caused this adversity to answer my misguided request. I repented of words that flippantly seemed to ask for trouble. 

Do I regret my prayer?  No, because I do not believe it moved God's hand to cause a disaster. Rather, I detect evidence He lovingly cared for us in spite of my request. 

Can one regret a prayer?

The morning my eighteen year old daughter left Colorado on a road trip with her friend W, I told them to wear their seat belts.  Susanna and I stood in the street behind the tightly packed car. The girls promised to call from Montana, their first stop. I kissed my daughter and they drove away.

Susanna and I today

  

I stood in the street and asked God to use the trip to get Susanna's attention.  

This may seem like a strange prayer. But my deepest desire was that Susanna encounter God in some way on this trip. I wanted her to turn to Him for guidance and make a wise choice for college. I wanted Him to woo her into a faith relationship. 

I also knew that I had sought that relationship when life seemed to take control out of my hands. In my way of thinking, getting her attention would most likely involve some difficulty. But I didn’t want catastrophe, so I irreverently amended the request: "Don't kill her in the process."

Before the day ended an accident catapulted Susanna from the little station wagon. The injuries left her in a coma for fourteen precarious days.

God got my attention.

While she was unconscious but healing, I catalogued innumerable mercies. Even though the girls traveled a typically deserted Montana highway, a state patrolman had been near enough to see the dust the rollover raised. 

Despite small cracks in her spinal column she could move her arms and legs. Although she didn't open her eyes or speak, she lifted a finger when her dad asked if she could hear him. 

So many of our needs were generously supplied. The Ronald McDonald House had space for me to live while she was hospitalized. Loved ones deluged us with long distance calls, cards, and flowers.  Our church raised money to help pay for uncovered costs. 

Hospital staff went out of their way to encourage me. Following their advice I kept a journal and made time to be away from the hospital.  One evening I attended an Alison Krause concert.  When she sang "I'd rather be in the palm of His hand..." I felt like the song had been chosen for me. 

...to be continued next week

Have you seen God's mercy during a crisis? Encourage us with a short comment about your experience.

Santa’s Not Welcome

Santa’s no longer welcome at my house. I thought I’d be enchanted with him forever.  But before I hit thirty I knew he’d been stringing me along. And I realized he couldn’t offer anything I truly wanted. I’d been completely deceived by the glitz and candle light, which, while pretty, still left me in the dark.

Santa couldn’t deliver the Hallmark-card family I yearned for. No slippers or even diamond earrings were going to make up for my disillusionment.   No amount of shopping, gift giving or cookie baking could balance out the guilt I felt about how I fussed at my small children or criticized my husband.  I needed a new me, and Santa couldn’t produce it.

Then Jesus came calling. When I understood that He wanted to trade me divine forgiveness for my shame, I placed my faith in the cradle-to-cross Savior.

  I learned that Christmas is all about the second chance, the clean slate, the renewed spirit that Jesus offers. He was the miracle and Santa a sham.  I plugged the chimney, metaphorically speaking, and put up the manger on the mantle.

So you won’t find Santa here. We celebrate Jesus born and Jesus resurrected. 

Forget the little hooves on the roof top. I’d rather have the angelic hosts singing to high heaven and its King. I love the Light of the World more than the colored strings on my Christmas tree. The trappings of the season (interesting word, “trappings”) can’t compare with the truth behind the celebration.

I pray that your festivities would be focused on God-Come-Down. Merry Christmas.