An Important Preposition

Posted on February 23, 2014 by Margaret

Mary and I have been working through a challenging Bible study together in the last few weeks. Louisa and Birgitta have been doing it too, and all of us have become aware that the preposition “in”, though little, has big significance.

Our study is titled “Believing God,” and one of the first things we learned was the monumental difference between believing God and believing IN God. Most people, if stopped on the street would say, “Sure. I believe in God.” But is that the same as actually believing him?

In our Bible study we’ve memo- rized 5 statements that are critical to God-belief without the “in”:

God is who he says he is.
God can do what he says he can do.
I am who God says I am.
I can do all things through Christ.
God’s Word is alive and active in me.

In our Bible study we repeat these powerful truths aloud at the beginning of each session, reminding ourselves that if we don’t agree with these five, we’re believing IN God, not believing God.

And that’s not all. Our video instructor asked us to find a blue ribbon or cord to tie around one wrist during our weeks of learning. Much like a string tied around a finger, it was to be a reminder of those 5 truths. When we saw our blue cord many times each day, we were supposed to say, “I’m believing God,” accompanying it with sign language: “I’m (pointing to chest) believing (pointing to head) God (pointing upward).”

Two Thursdays back, Mary had a fever and wasn’t feeling well, so she missed our study time. We decided not to proceed without her, hoping she’d be back the next week, but by then she’d learned about her cancer. Now we’ve pushed the pause button indefinitely, because our little band of believers wouldn’t be the same without her.

When I visited Mary the morning after her diagnosis, her blue cord was peeking out from under her hospital gown, not much more than a few threads now. But there it was, testifying to those 5 rock-solid reasons for continuing to believe God, despite pancreatic cancer.

I’m wearing my blue cord, too, and as we chatted that first painful morning, I quietly planned to do the finger exercise at an opportune time, pointing to chest, head, and upward. Mary would know what it meant. But she beat me to it. Only a few minutes into our conversation her arm went up, she pointed to her blue cord, and did the point, point, point: I’m – believing – God.

So how, specifically, is she believing him? Today, she said it was this way:

“The Lord will cover [me] with his feathers. He will shelter [me] with his wings. His faithful promises are [my] armor and protection.” (Psalm 91:4)

Mary’s prayer requests:

For God’s wisdom in making treatment decisions
For preparation of each family member for what they will learn this week
For comfort, especially for her children

Thank you!

Words from Mary

Posted on February 19, 2014 by Margaret

After 4 days in the hospital, last night my sister Mary got her greatest wish: to go home. Nobody likes the plasticized pillows or the unending interruptions. (…like the nurse who came in to take more blood: “Good morning!” she said in a cheery voice, flipping on the lights. It was 4:00 AM.)

The function of Mary’s stay was to complete a battery of tests so her team of doctors could make an accurate analysis and recommend treatment. Next week she’ll receive the news, whether good, bad, or somewhere in between.

Last night I promised we would hear from Mary today, and below are excerpts from a letter she wrote on Sunday, letting it be known for the first time she had cancer:

Last week I experienced three days of mysterious high fevers. When I saw a doctor on Saturday, he sent us to the emergency room for tests. It was a huge shock to [husband] Berv and me, and it will be a shock to you, to learn I have been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. The testing will enable them to stage the cancer.

As we learn more, I’ll pass it on to you. Margaret has offered her blog to share any updates, and God has led me to say yes. If there are specific prayer requests, you’ll find them there too.

Having to tell my [7] children what I’ve just told you was the most difficult thing I’ve ever done. No mother wants to cause her children pain. But Scripture promises great spiritual gain can result from suffering, and that is my hope and prayer. Please pray for my children, children-in-law, grandchildren, and for Bervin, who is holding up as well as can be expected, trying to stay strong for all of us. But he is understandably sad and upset.

Today Margaret brought me a beautiful beach stone, the most beautiful one I’ve ever seen. On it was inscribed Psalm 71:3. This afternoon six year old [grandson] Beck read it for us. “Be to me a Rock of habitation, to which I may continually come. Thou art my Rock and my Fortress…my confidence from my youth.” I know, without doubt, God will never leave me or forsake me, and I’m clinging to Him and His Word to carry me all the way through.

Thanking the Lord for you,

Mary

* * * * * * * * *

On Saturday when we heard the words “pancreatic cancer,” we all jumped to a radical conclusion: that Mary would follow the same path Nate did. (He died 42 days after diagnosis.) But with great joy we’re now believing we were wrong about that. Mary’s cancer is a very rare pancreatic, occurring less than 10% of the time. In cases like hers, surgery has been known to extend a person’s life for quite a while.

In the mean time, Mary is setting the example by not worrying about tomorrow, because just as Jesus said,

“Don’t worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring its own worries. Today’s trouble is enough for today.” (Matthew 6:34)

Lifelong Learner

Posted on February 12, 2014 by Margaret

No one would dispute that one-year-olds learn fast. In January, I left home for just 2 weeks, and when I returned, Emerald had learned all kinds of new things. Though she’d been good at giving slobbery kisses when I left, by the time I got back she’d learned how to pucker up and lean in with a tender “mmmmm,” inviting the kiss-ee to come closer. She’d also learned to take the caps off marking pens and write on herself, and to pull things off table edges.

Though I tried to keep careful track of her that first babysitting gig after coming home, she surprised me anyway. A water bottle I use while ironing had found its way into her lap, and she’d learned to spray it. I found her dousing herself with one squirt after another, accompanied by a little gasp each time the cold water hit her, followed by a giggle.

Squirt, gasp, giggle. Squirt, gasp, giggle.

When she saw me, she grinned as if to say, “Look what I learned!” Her face was dripping and her shirt soaked, but that didn’t suppress her joy over learning something new. Later that same day I was making my bed, tucking in the edges. Emerald watched and immediately imitated my hand motions with her pudgy fingers.

Although babies never lose their zeal for learning, somewhere along the way the rest of us do. Our perspective is no longer, “I can do this!” but more like, “I hope I can figure it out.”

Maybe our cerebral cortexes have no more free space to make new rivulets. Or maybe we’re just tired. But the truth is, we absolutely must keep learning. If we opt out, we’re on our way to watching life from a chair in the corner.

There is some good news, though. God wired us to be capable of learning throughout our lives and encourages us to do and be everything he’s planned for us. As the Great Facilitator, he can take any daunting task and open our understanding to it as we ask him for help. And if we continue to show a willingness to learn, he’ll continue to assist, eventually smiling along with us when we “get it.”

In my prayer group this week (all of us in our 60’s), we agreed that the more we learn, the more we see is left to learn. To say it the opposite way, if we don’t try, we feel we aren’t missing much. But when we discover there’s always much more to learn, God wants us to relate that insight to himself, that there’s never an end to what we can learn of him, either. No matter how much know, there will always be more.

As for Emerald, she’s done it again. This week she learned to drive!