We are a vanishing mist.

Month: August 2020

That’s Enough: When God Speaks

WARNING: SENSITIVE SUBJECT

Have you ever had a time in life when you thought you heard God’s voice?  Perhaps you were in the middle of making a life changing decision and you felt peace about going in a particular direction.  Or maybe you were struggling with a difficult relationship and you came across a scripture that instructed you on how to handle the situation.  God can use many different means in which to speak to us.  Sometimes He may use the Godly wisdom of a friend through a conversation or He may use the lyrics to a song to encourage you. 

One of the most comforting aspects of following Christ is the fact that He sees us, knows what we’re facing, and speaks to us.  He cares about every area of our lives and wants to guide us through each circumstance that we face.  His words offer comfort, correction, guidance, reassurance, instruction, encouragement, and confirmation.  

In my last post found HERE I blogged about my earthly father’s love as well as the love of our Heavenly Father.  I told you about my dad’s extraordinary final days of life, but my life obviously didn’t stop there.  Shortly after he passed away, my mom married a man who raised me and loved me as his own.  To avoid confusion, I will be referring to him as Papa.  I always have referred to him as my dad, but that gets confusing as I have had two dads.  This seems the best way to differentiate between the two.  

Mom and Papa’s wedding day in 1984

Papa and I had an incredibly deep connection.  As adults, we both battled depression and anxiety, so I knew he really understood me.  If I was having a rough day where I couldn’t shut my mind off, I knew he got it.  If he was having a hard time getting started in the morning, I understood.  We talked daily on the phone and I knew that if I needed him at any time of the day, he was going to answer his phone.  There were even times that I would call him while he was in the middle of running a meeting at work and he would still answer.  Once he knew I was ok, he would say, “Honey, I’m in the middle of a meeting.  I’ll call you back as soon as I can.”  He was a constant, steady force in my life.

Our last family in 2007, the summer before Papa passed away.

In July of 2008, I received some of the worst news of my life.  While at a wedding rehearsal where I was to be a bridesmaid the very next day, my husband walked in and with just one look at his face, I knew something was wrong.  As I walked toward him down the aisle, I began to tremble because I strongly sensed a major blow was coming.  Did something happen to one of our kids?  He took my hand and said, “It’s your dad.  He’s dead.”  As I crumbled into his arms, my mind began to race.  I couldn’t even begin to form a complete thought.  This was my worst fear come true.  The only thing that made me feel better about losing my first father was the fact that God had brought Papa into my life.  And now he was gone too.

Within a few minutes, my mind cleared enough to think of my mom.  How was she?  When she answered the phone, I’ll never forget the sheer horror in her voice.  She had been the one to find him and her attempts at CPR were unsuccessful. As she struggled to talk to me,  she was hyperventilating, so I could barely understand her.  I don’t think we had much of a conversation due to the shock that we were both experiencing and the lack of focus that we had.

As Earl drove me home, questions were bombarding my mind.  My children.  Did they know?  DId they realize that their Papa would no longer be able to buy them donuts or send them money when they were saving for a new toy?  Oh, and when was the last time I had talked to him?  Had we spoken at all that week?  Did he know how much I loved him?  I eventually remembered that we had spoken on the phone twice that morning.  He had said that he hadn’t slept well, but he gave no indication that anything at all was wrong.  How could this be?

The news had come late in the day, so we decided to wait until the next morning to make the 10 hour trip to my mom’s.  That night remains a blur.  I couldn’t eat because I was sure I would vomit the minute anything hit my stomach.  I tried to pack for the kids and myself, but my thoughts were all over the place.  I couldn’t sleep because my mind wouldn’t shut off.  My husband and children slept with me in our den that night – I couldn’t bear to be alone.  The heaviness and darkness made the night seem even longer as I laid awake, staring at the ceiling.  I couldn’t wait for the sun to rise so that we could make the long drive to my parent’s home.  

The sun did indeed rise, but my world didn’t brighten.  Everything remained dark and heavy and a constant fog followed me.  We made it safely to my mom’s in record time and I had been warned by my sister-in-law that my parent’s house was swarming with people who wanted to show our family love and support.  She was right.  As we pulled in, the house literally seemed to be crawling with people.  There were friends and loved ones on the porch as well as packed inside the house.  My husband parked in such a way that gave me some time alone with my mom and brothers as we embraced in a tearful hug.  

The remainder of the day was filled with confusion and a flood of tears.  As each family member and friend came and went, my world remained gray and my thoughts swirled in my head.  I was in such a dark place mentally that I had a hard time recalling names of certain people and their relationship to my family.  There was an absolute storm raging in my mind.

But, then Jesus stepped in.  

He got up, rebuked the wind and said to the waves, “Quiet! Be still!” Then the wind died down and it was completely calm.  Mark 4:39

That night, I went to bed and attempted to sleep.  The nausea was overwhelming and the emotional pain was unbearable.  I remember getting about 15 minutes of sleep, and the remainder of the night was spent staring at the tv, but hearing nothing that was said.  

Saying our goodbyes. Photo credit: Lara Stovall

When the sun began to peak over the horizon the next day, I sat up on the edge of the bed.  I remember staring at the knob on the dresser wondering if I had the strength to stand up.  And that’s when I began to hear some gentle, calm words in my thoughts.  “That was enough.  That was enough.  That was enough.  That was enough.”  Where was it coming from?  Why were those words playing over and over in my head?  

And then I knew.

You see, the last several years of my dad’s life were spent in agony.  About 7 or 8 years before he passed away, he shared a secret with our family that he had been carrying since he was a young child.  From the ages of 9-13, while he was an altar boy at church, he had been sexually abused by not just one, but several catholic priests.  He attended the church’s school and was called out of class on a regular basis for the local priest’s enjoyment.  And when priests visiting from other churches or towns were in, they would join the sick perversion that Papa had to endure.  

At the time of his death, he was pursuing a court case against the Catholic diocese for the years of abuse that he had endured.  He was working with his attorney on the details of his case and his testimony.  The memories of being victimized were having to be revisited again and again as he was going through extensive therapy.  Nightmares of the abuse occurred multiple times a week.  That was actually the reason that he had not slept well the night before he passed away.  So, after years of mental anguish, God looked down on him as he was napping on the family room floor, showed great mercy, and said, “That’s enough.”

Papa had suffered enough.  No more nightmares.  No more torment.  No more therapy or visits with his attorney.  He was finally able to rest in God’s peace with a sound mind as he went to his heavenly, eternal home.  I had a dream about a year after he died that gave me a glimpse into heaven.  He was standing in the midst of a choir and he looked absolutely flawless.  The cares of the world were no longer showing on his face.  Instead, he had the most peaceful look – the type of look that we have never seen here on earth.  The tension and wrinkles on his face were gone and his complexion was as smooth as silk.  I truly believe that he is in heaven now waiting with my first dad and will welcome me when I finish this race that I am stumbling on.

When I finally realized that the words “That’s enough” were the words that God spoke over my dad just before he stopped his heart, a sense of peace washed over me.  The grief and sadness didn’t disappear, but when God reminded me that every day of my dad’s life was written in His book before one of them came to be (Psalm 139:16), I was able to feel a small bit of peace.

Giving my eulogy at his funeral

This reminds me of something that I heard a few years ago while at a small group meeting with our church:

“During a recent conflict in the Middle East, Ron and Joke Jones, who serve with the Christian and Missionary Alliance in Israel, wrote in their prayer letter:

The result of the fighting and killing has left a profound sense of discouragement that hovers over the country. Several times we have come into closer contact with this conflict than our comfort zone allowed.  Yesterday a friend said she was watching a shepherd caring for his flock near the area where guns are fired. Every time the shots rang out, the sheep scattered in fright. The shepherd touched each of them with his staff and spoke calmly to them, and the sheep settled down because they trusted the shepherd. Then another shot sounded, and the same routine happened. Each time, the sheep needed the shepherd to orient them again and to reassure them they were safe.  We are like those sheep. When we are frightened, our Shepherd reaches out and touches us with his staff, speaking words of calm and comfort.” —Greg Asimakoupoulos, Mercer Island, Washington

“My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me.” ~ John 10:27

This is exactly what had happened that morning at my parent’s house.  My Shepherd had touched me with His staff and spoken softly to me which calmed me for a bit.  Just like these sheep, other shots were fired at me.  The grief continued, the questions consumed me, bitterness and anger crept in, but it was always the words of God that would reorient me and remind me that He was with me. 

Have YOU ever had a time in life when God spoke to you?  Or do you need to hear from Him now?  He’s there!  He wants to have a relationship with you.  He longs to offer you comfort and desires to be your Shepherd.  Reach out to Him.  Ask him to speak to you and then listen.  He tells us that if we seek Him, we will find Him, so speak to Him today.  And whatever you do, DON’T WAIT!!!

A Father’s Love

For the first 7 years of my life, I was blessed with an exemplary father. He loved Jesus with all of his heart and it showed in all that he did. Some of my earliest memories of him are of all the hours that he would spend studying God’s Word. He would sit with his Bible open, pen in hand, as he would jot down note after note about what he was reading that day.

1979 – Taken right around the time Dad was diagnosed with melanoma.

As he put the time into learning more and more about Jesus, Christ’s love poured out of my father. He was an Education Specialist at a medium-security Federal prison in our town and he openly shared the hope that he had found with the inmates that he came into contact with. Not only did he talk about his faith to the men he had in the classes that he taught, but he also had a prison ministry where he led a Bible study one night a week for the prisoners right there at the facility. And then every Sunday morning he would pick up a car full of inmates and would take them to church with us. My father reached out to “the least of these” just as Jesus told the righteous to do in Matthew 25:35-38.

35 For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, 36 I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’ 37 “Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? 38 When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? 39 When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’ 40 “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’

My dad was also great at modeling Christ’s love for our family. I never saw him angry or impatient. On the contrary, he was always loving, gentle, and kind. When he came in from work every day, we would eat dinner, and then the rest of his evening was devoted to us. We would take family bike rides or perhaps play a game such as UNO. If work had to be done, we’d do it together. We could often be found doing yard work together (I was a pro at pulling weeds by the age of 5) and if dad was in the garage building something, I was right beside him with my own tool belt, hammer, nails, and piece of wood.

Fathers, do not provoke your children to anger, but bring them up in the discipline and instruction of the Lord. ~Ephesians 6:4

During the times that my brother and I needed correction, dad would not scream or talk down to us. Instead, he would get down to our level on one knee and would talk softly to us. We never felt shamed or unloved through his discipline. You see, my dad loved God first with all of his heart, soul, mind, and strength and as a result, he was able to love us the way Jesus did. He demonstrated well for me the way in which God my Father loves me.

When I was 3 years old and Dad was just 33, he was diagnosed with cancer. A mole that had been removed on his hand showed back up 6 months later, shortly followed by a tumor on his elbow. Throughout Dad’s entire illness, his study time with Jesus continued. The fruit of that was supernatural strength to face gut-wrenching days. My mom has often told me the story of the day they received the news that the cancer had spread to his liver. There was nothing more that the doctor could do, so as you can imagine, the devastating news could have destroyed them both. They had an hour and a half drive back home after receiving the news, and she said the entire drive was filled with laughter. They weren’t distraught, fearful, or hopeless, but were actually the opposite. The only explanation is that God’s joy and peace were at work that day.

Near the end of my dad’s life, his pain began to increase. His doctor called in a prescription for Dilaudid, which is a high powered opioid pain medication. After having to drive to 3 pharmacies before finding one that had it in stock, my mom gave my dad his first dose. The medication knocked him out for several hours and when he woke up, he did not like the way he felt. This is where God’s unbelievable strength once again came into play. He told my mom to get rid of the medication because he never wanted to take another pill. He told her that he did not want to live his remaining days groggy and sleeping, so he would just do without. His desire was to spend as many days as possible with my mom, brother, and me with a clear mind no matter how bad the pain got.

My dad NEVER took another pain pill after that day. I didn’t go into our den very many times where his hospital bed was during those last days, but I remember at one point seeing how far the cancer had spread. He had blue knots all under the surface of his skin under his arms as well as protruding tumors all over his head and back. He was completely eaten up with cancer. I know this is detailed and a bit hard to read, but I simply want to paint a clear picture of the way my father was able to love us until the very end. I don’t think there is any denying that the only way Dad was able to do that was because of God’s strength. I don’t know that it would have been humanly possible without it.

Let me make it clear that I in no way think that pain meds are bad. They are very necessary and needed typically. I am simply sharing the way God taught me about love. I have never in my life wondered if my dad loved us. From my very first memory of him until my very last, I knew his love for us ran DEEP. He demonstrated this by putting others (us) above himself. My dad sacrificed his comfort in order to spend every possible moment with us until Jesus took him home.

A few months ago, I was reading in the book of Mark and came across a verse about another Man who did something very similar.

“And they offered him wine mixed with myrrh, but he did not take it.” ~ Mark 15:23

I had read this passage about the final day of Jesus’ life numerous times before, but I had never noticed this.  As I began to research “wine mixed with myrrh,” I learned that when a person was crucified, they were offered this concoction which had a numbing effect.  It was used to lessen the pain of the process, making it a bit more bearable.  But, notice what this verse says.  “…he did not take it.”   My Savior did not take it.  He did that for me.  And He did it for YOU.  He loved us so much that He wanted to experience the full brunt of our sins as He hung on the cross.  He didn’t want the pain lessened.  He wanted to feel every whip, every thorn, every sword, and every nail as He was beaten and bruised and sacrificed His life for us. 

These are the things that a father’s love will do. Our Heavenly Father bore the full weight of God’s wrath in exchange for our salvation with nothing to dull the pain. And as an earthly father spends time with Jesus, he will become more and more like Him. As a result, He will live his life in a way that will teach his children exactly who God is. They will recognize that God is a God of love and compassion, not a God filled with wrath and fury. He will not provoke his child to anger but will discipline in love. He will demonstrate for his children how to reach out to the “least of these” just as Jesus instructs us to do. And he will make sacrifices that are beyond human comprehension all because of the strength that only God can give. Even his death will glorify God. Please notice that I said that it was God’s strength that enabled my father to live the life that he lived. It was not of his own strength.

I pray that you will not wait to spend time daily with our Lord.  Living a life that glorifies Him is impossible without studying His life.  Take the time to examine and understand every word that He has given us.  Ask Him to help you to love Him first so that you can love others the way that He does.  You can’t do it without Him.  Take the time now and ask Him for his help. And whatever you do, DON’T WAIT!

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