Category Archives: Suffering

Sneak Peek #3

Posted on by

Excerpt from THRIVE AND SURVIVE, ZERO TO FIVE

I (Mary) was pregnant with Karl, who would be joining two siblings – three-year-old Luke and one-year-old Julia. Wanting to keep my skills fresh as a hospital nurse, I bought into the lie that a young mom can do it all. I figured the way to accomplish this was to work the night shift. After all, babies and toddlers still nap during the day, and I could catch up on sleep then.

But one person can’t do the work of two.

I’ll never forget one morning after working all night when I was nearly cross-eyed with fatigue. After my husband left for work, I came up with a plan to get some desperately needed sleep. I locked my two children and myself in our bedroom, figuring I could rest while they played. After all, there was nothing dangerous in the room.

How wrong I was.

Although I hadn’t planned to sleep, in just a minute I was out cold. It didn’t last long, though, as a loud crash, followed by the wails of Julia, woke me with a start. I found my baby lying on the floor bleeding from a gash on her cheek. Somehow she’d managed to pull over a portable wooden crib, which grazed her face on its way to the floor.

After the crisis had passed, I suffered terrible guilt. Every time I looked at Julia’s face, I was reminded of how foolish I’d been to think I could do it all. I failed at motherhood that day and learned a valuable lesson: no one can work all day and all night too. The day after Julia was injured I quit my nursing job.

Every young mother works hard every day, all day. And if your desire is to find success in mothering, you’ll have to repeatedly check your priorities. What’s at the top of the list for you? What follows that? How is your time being spent? And your limited energy?

SIDEBAR:

PRACTICAL WAYS TO REDUCE STRESS

  • Trim your commitments.
  • Pencil in some mommy time.
  • Resist feeling guilty for alone time.
  • Nap with your little ones.
  • Ask your husband to help.
  • Listen to worship music.
  • Go to bed earlier.
  • Enjoy a piece of chocolate.

Nine Years Ago Today

Posted on by

Today, September 22, is the 9th anniversary of the day Nate and I learned of his fatal cancer. He’d been bothered by severe back pain for 7 months and was scheduled for surgery when pre-op tests told a different story.

After that appointment at a Chicago hospital, we pointed our mini-van toward the peace and quiet of our Michigan home. As I drove, Nate used the time to call each of his 7 children to tell them personally what we’d just learned. As emotionally draining as that job was, he wanted each of them to hear it directly from him.

Normal life came to a screeching halt that day as we tried to absorb the shock. No one knew what was going to happen, but all agreed it couldn’t possibly be anything good.

*          *              *              *              *             *              *              *             *              *

Recently I came across a paper with Nate’s handwriting on it, something I don’t often see these days. It was the first page in a blank book, dated 9/22/09. He had titled it, “Journal of Willard Nyman.” *

In less than 20 words his first entry summarized the dreadful truth:

Sept. 22, 2009The Dr told me I have [metastasizing] pancreatic cancer today. Thought it was back problem all the time.

In those words I could hear his grave disappointment but also a measure of acceptance. Though Nate had hoped to write down his thoughts as he journeyed through cancer, he never had the chance. The daily pace moved too fast for that. This first entry was his last.

Because September 22 has come around 9 times now, I find myself thinking back without tears. Though I miss Nate every hour of every day, God’s healing of my heart has taken away the pain of remembering.

Now when I go back to that time, I think of the many ways God was on the move. On September 22, when we’d all agreed nothing good could possibly happen after the diagnosis, we had been wrong.

M and N, Aug. 09God pulled our attention toward him on every one of those 42 days by causing unusual things to happen in and around us. He proved how very close he was and sustained us by sprinkling blessings over each day’s harsh circumstances. And God is willing to partner like that with every person through grievous situations. He sustains us, rescues us, and is so close he can even carry us.

The Lord said, “I am he who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you.” (Isaiah 46:4b)

* Nate’s real name: Willard Nathan Nyman (Photo taken 8/22/09)

Beach Bums No More (…conclusion)

Posted on by

When Scripture describes the Lord as “God of all comfort,” what does it mean? Isn’t it true that when we need comforting, we can get it from many sources? It can come through friends, family members, sermons, books, magazines, a tasty meal, even just a good night’s sleep.

A more accurate way to think about the God of all comfort is to recognize he’s the only One with access to ALL comfort, i.e. all kinds of comfort. His soothing touch can come in a thousand ways, but there’s never any “Whoops. I should have tried something else.”

A case in point was when I was newly crushed after losing my long-term beach buddy, sister Mary (preceding post). Unbeknownst to me, it was several years earlier that God had set up gentle comfort for me during this time.

Beach walkwayBack in 2013, our home association began building a sturdy walkway and deck leading from a small, sandy parking lot to the beach.

As Mary and I arrived one day, workmen were digging deep, round holes to establish strong pilings that would hold up the walkway. After digging the holes, they put in plump, white pipe-like forms resembling giant versions of what’s under a kitchen sink. Each was 12″ in diameter.

Next they stood hefty wooden 6” X 6” posts inside the “pipes” and poured in concrete for stability. As Mary and I left the beach that day, the crew had just finished, and she couldn’t resist the wet concrete. “Hey,” she said, “let’s leave a fingerprint.”

Walkway supportMary bent over the first post and firmly pressed in her right thumb, making a mark that only she could.

In the weeks that followed, the walkway was completed, and neither of us mentioned “her impression” again. We actually forgot about it, but of course God didn’t. Instead he filed it under “All comfort,” saving it for use three years hence.

*      *      *      *      *      *      *      *      *      *

Sunset buddies

 

The day finally came when Mary and I sat side-by-side at the beach for the last time. She talked about what was just ahead for her, with terminal cancer. “I hope I don’t die during the summer. That would be hard. September or October would be the best time.”

God gave her that wish. She died in September of 2016.

After that, it was difficult to think of being alone on the sand without my beach buddy, but eventually I did go back. Sitting in that peaceful place, though, where she and I had shared 70 summers, was painful.

A markThat was the moment when God dipped into his file of “All Comfort” and eased my grief with one sweet thought. He reminded me of Mary’s permanent mark on this cherished place, still there where she put it – a small thing, but it brought big comfort on that hard day.

Though God had access to all kinds of comfort-choices, he picked the one that worked.

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort.” (2 Corinthians 1:3)