PEACE OF THE LORD ON MY HEART!

       Even though I've shared this photo and Word more than once over this stretch of time as a blogger, today it grabbed me again!  In May, '84, during a very dangerous stretch of my life, I was very sad and very worried re: me and my kids.  A process of divorce then.  Laying in the Psalms was a truly stretch of time in those days.  The Lord had laid a bunch of it on me, and this really said the right Word at the right time.  
       Within several months later, I was thoroughly filled with peace!! I had come back up from Oklahoma to Omaha in September, '84.  Saw friends.  Suddenly,  the Lord had healed my heart in Omaha at 2 churches.  Even though I knew my heart was a challenge, but just sleeping and doing what I could do, even though I got so stressful.  However, I was suddenly in churches with friends -- October, '84 and February, '85 -- and, not understanding what was going on at those churches at those times --- at both places healing was taking place and I had no idea that I was going to be healed.  I was 39 then.  Well, amazingly, the Lord had things dropped onto me.  So, my heart was healed then ... and He'd also done it at a church in summer of '74 when I was 28.  I'm very blessed re: His healing situations for me and millions and billions historically, of course.  I'm a "blessing the Lord" person, strongly! 
       I would have been in Heaven 31 or 41 years ago, or even when I was a kid with serious stuff connected at me strongly.  Now, at 70, it's not my heart issue, but other things.  I keep hearing I'll be in Heaven soon, and day-by-day, for several months now, when praying and worshiping I keep hearing it.  I don't mind being in Heaven, b/c I'd see a lot of people who amazingly had come to the Lord... I've been involved with many people in serious non-God situations and they came to the Lord and, in the not-distant future, were in Heaven.  Anyhow, I'm trusting the Lord for the consequences.  
      OH, and as a little kid, I was taught to be a fighter to protect me and my sisters, and I was an angry kid way back then.  I'm very grateful that the Lord officially broke into my life when I was 20.  I'd known OF Him even when I was very young, but hadn't known if or when it would be possible or important to turn to Him.  I was heading to suicide a couple of years, especially when I was 18 and 19, and because I was very sinful in Seattle.  I'm very grateful that the Lord dropped people into my life and I knew what I should do.  April 15, 1966, at 6:30 in the evening at someone's home in Tacoma that was sharing very straightful at me, I knew this was the right thing to do.  What a blessing!!
      NOW, talking too much at you, etc.  But this verse, and used on the photo taken Dave and I were in Uganda as missionaries, this has always grabbed my heart and my attention.

LEAVES AND TREES OF REVELATION!

       This is what I rely upon, forever and ever!  All we can count on.  I thoroughly trust the Words in Revelation, and this grabbed me hard and filled with joyfulness!

OUR LORD SHARING ABOUT THE TREE LEAVES.

THAT'S WHAT I COUNT ON!

I'VE BEEN A REVELATION READING WORSHIPER.

KNOW SO MUCH OF WHAT WAS IN THE PAST

AND SO MUCH OF WHAT IS IN THE FUTURE.

IN OUR PRESENT-DAY WORLD, SINFULNESS

HAS INCREASED EXTREMELY.

TRUSTING MY HEAVENLY FATHER IS ALL I CAN EVER DO.

TURNING TO HEALING AND RESTORATION

FILLS MY HEART WITH THOROUGHLY WORSHIP.

 

MY NEWEST BIRTH AND OLDEST BIRTHDAY

    This ain't perfect, but since I'm turning 70 right now, and my body and brain ain't working as well, I just thought I'd toss some pieces around and about.  Sorry if this is too crazy!  

Love many, many, many of you.

 ===========================

     On July 9th I am 70 years old.  Want to share the wonderfulness of how the Lord kept me alive in many ways.  When people say that, in our present-day healthiness, I should plan to be on the earth until I'm 80 or 90 at least.  Well, I would have died through beatings, murders, suicide, or ruined heart issues.  The Lord has healed and protected me many times.

    I was born in Portland, Oregon.  I discovered when I was 17 that my parents were not married when I was born.  Mom, very angry at Dad, when I was about a month from graduation in Klickitat, WA, in 1963, she told me that they had married when I was 3 years old.  After her death, a few years ago, one of my sisters and one of my nieces had gone through more of Mom's pieces and discovered it wasn't when I was 3 that they married.  I was about 1-1/2 years old.  Too much of their situation to tell to any of you.  Even though it is quite normal and acceptable in our present-day world, it sure wasn't when I was a kid! I'm extremely relieved that Dad and Mom came to the Lord... my Dad when he was 59 and died when he was 65 in 1984, and my Mom when she was 80 and died at 90-1/2 in 2011.  I look forward to seeing them in heaven!!
     Because of the fighting that was going on ... Mom and Dad fought each other and others fought them through neighborhood ... I was filled with danger.  I was molested, beaten, and became a fighter when I was 5 years old.  Dad taught me how to fight just as I was turning from 4 to 5

right then.   When near July 4th, shortly before my 5th birthday, I'd been hurt by a 7 year old boy.  As I say, Dad taught me how to fight, and, when the boy walked by me I hit him, and he ran away from fear.  So, I became a strong fighter and did it anytime necessary for me or my family.
    When I was in school, from grade school to high school, even though I heard the Words of the Lord when principles and teachers could talk about the Bible, I truly knew it was right, but I continued to keep my sinful life strongly.  AND I felt guilty, because I knew what I was doing was against the truthfulness of the Lord.
  

      I was working in Seattle when I was 18 and 19, and filled with extreme sinfulness, and was heading to suicide. Amazingly I was moved to Tacoma when I was just turning 20, and was with my Dad, Mom, and sisters.  A few months later, in an apartment, I was drawn to a Baptist church through a new friend, and I went and knew the truthful portions, and, 3 weeks later, I decided to truly accept the Lord on April 15, 1966.  Life began to change for me.
     The Lord has used me to do some very unusual things for approximately 46 years.  In the process, when dealing with very serious and dangerous situations through family connections or towns, He has healed my heart.  My heart was healed when I was 27 & 28, 38 & 39, 42.  I'm extremely grateful!  At those times it had nothing to do with the doctors, but only in houses or churches when suddenly He encouraged me and touched me.

     When I was going to Soriti, Uganda, in November, 2003, and staying until January, 2004, my husband and I, as we knew the Lord had called me to go there, we both thought and were concerned that I could easily be dead over there.  I was gone for 2-1/2 months before Dave could come,

because of his job situation.  One of the miracles was that I, during the last week in Soroti, had been invited to by 5 pastors to go to a very wide group of people outside of town which was in a serious place where the people were forced to live when having run away from their places to avoid the Lord's Resistance Army.  When asked by those pastors to go there, and I planned to do it, another pastor took me to the side and suggested that I not go, because he expected to have to call Dave and tell him that I was dead and ask how to send my body to him in Omaha or have him come to Soroti. Well, since Pastor Joseph said that so strongly, I did not go.  Found out a day later that, even though no one had died, the situations had been very serious, and, if someone from out of their nation had arrived, it [me] could have been much worse.  When Dave came to Uganda 2 weeks later, at the end of January, I had malaria and PTS.  Malaria was handled OK through doctors; no big deal.  The PTS lasted for approximately 4 months.  When flying back home together a couple weeks after he arrived, it took me quite a while to become thoroughly healthy.  I was 58 back then.  Oh, and re: a lot of the situation in Soroti, even though the book is fictional/non-fictional [mostly NON-fictional re: Soroti!] it has now been published. 

     Sorry to yammer so long, but: being in Uganda several times; Costa Rica twice; Morocco for a prayer time with piles of people from our nation Europe and northern Africa; First Responders in Omaha where many of us go to murder sites to pray for family and friends connected to the death; and helping the Bhutanese from Nepal here in Omaha where I was placed into them surprisingly about 5 years ago and have about 200 Bhutanese "family and friends".  In spite of everything, I'm very grateful. The Lord has sent me around and about and taken care of me.  [Much of this was with Dave, too, especially Uganda and the Bhutanese. He's a wonderful pianist, organist, a home "fixer", computer-fixer.  He's a blessing to others and he's been a wonderful blessing to me!]
     Now, even with my stumbling and my dementia increasing very strongly,  the Lord tells me to drive around our city and other local towns and pray for the wonderful situations or demonic situations, and worship very strongly thankfully to the Lord.  In our large world or any very small homes, He is all that counts.  And He is all I can count on.
     I'm very grateful for how the Lord protected me, healed me, used me, and has let me worship and glorify Him, moment-by-moment.
     Thank you for putting up with me, my dear family and friends.

 ===================================

Dave and I just arrived home 4 days ago from Washington and Oregon area after being gone from Omaha for 2 weeks.  This is the two of us with Mt. Adams in behind us, and the fire was extreme that day.  However, in spite of that situation, we were filled with smiling and rejoicing, because friends we happened to be staying with had driven us around the Klickitat area.

Oh, and I was in Klickitat when 5-7 and 15-17.  

1st grade there, then mostly in Tacoma from 2nd to 9th grade. It was a blessing to be in Klickitat for high school 

and that I graduated there.

A main miracle for me to be there is because

I have wonderful friends that I met there

when very young, teenaged, and now very old!

And, since I was a young kid in Tacoma, WA, this has been my favorite mountain, Mount Rainier,  to see. 

 I rejoiced this time again.

MY GOD-JOB FOR A LONG TIME...

AS I INDICATE, THIS IS NOT "WORDY"

BUT THIS IS "GOD-JOBBY".

HE CALLED ME TO DO SPECIAL STUFF YEARS AGO.

HAD BEEN ALREADY, BUT THIS WAS OFFICALLY

PLACED ON ME ON THAT VERY DAY...

JUNE 1, 1999.

AND, WHEN LOOKING AROUND AND ABOUT MY PHOTOS FOR ONE THAT WOULD FIT INTO THE INFO, 

SEEING THE CLOUD LOOKING TO THE LORD,

SO I COULD LOOK TO THE LORD.  ON IT. 

MALACHI IS ON MY HEART...

A HUGE "AMEN"..

HIS HEALING -- BODY, SOUL, AND SPIRIT --

TRULY IS A "FOREVER" BLESSING.

HEAL ME, SAVE ME...& I PRAISE HIM.

LEAVES FOR NATIONAL HEALING

      

WHAT A BLESSING TO LOOK FORWARD TO IN HEAVEN!

THE HEALER... MY HEALER

YES, OUR HEALER...

MY FOREVER HEALER.

ALL I CAN COUNT ON FOREVER AND EVER.

HEALING LEAVES

I CAN HARDLY WAIT!!

HE IS SO KIND, SO WILLING, SO ABLE.

[AND WE,THROUGH MANY NATIONS, ARE IN MORE AND MORE TROUBLE, FOCUSING ON MORE AND MORE SIN 

THAN WE COULD EVER HAVE IMAGINED. 

 HE IS ALL WE CAN COUNT ON FOR HEALING.]

MALACHI 4:2 ... HEALING SUN

He is all we can count on ... forever!

JEREMIAH 17:14 --- JOYFUL BEAUTY

YES, HE IS OUR PRAISE... FOREVER AND EVER.  AMEN!!

MARY MAGDALENE -- CHAPTER 2

The first time Jesus noticed Mary, it was merely an awareness of her presence.  He didn't see her with his eyes, but he knew she was in the crowd.  His spirit was always attuned to the cry of a desperate heart. 

As usually happened when Jesus appeared, people pressed into him on all sides.   A woman, holding a young child, cried out "Jesus...Jesus... over here", and immediately the crowd separated to form a path.  He stopped.  Suddenly, eye-to-eye with her, they were alone.  

"What is it, Woman?" he asked with tenderness.  

Tears filled her eyes.  "Master. His legs.  See how bent they are?  He stumbles and falls always. My heart so hurts to watch him.  Oh, Master,  WILL you help him?"  

"Why did you come to me?"  asked Jesus.

"Sir, I have seen you heal others.  I know you care for us. For all of us."  She looked at him and her eyes had an expression of hope and love that moved his heart.
 
As everyone nearby watched, Jesus reached out his hands and placed them gently on the child.  For a few moments he stood in silence, and then aloud he said, "My Father, bless this mother and her son, and grant her request." To the amazement of all around, as he spoke, the child's legs straightened.

With tears of joy and gratitude streaming down her face, the happy mother danced through the crowd, her son in her arms.

Standing on the outer edge of the throng, Mary had listened as Jesus talked with the mother.  Mary couldn't see what was happening, but she heard the tenderness, the acceptance, the love in his voice...the eagerness to end the sadness of the family...his joy at THEIR joy...and she was stirred.

From that time onward, Mary followed Jesus, cautiously, from the distance.  She did not trust men...any man.  She agreed with the ancient observation that "the thoughts of a man's heart are only evil continually,"  and she was determined to not be deceived by another one.

But in Jesus, she had seen caring, unselfish service, love... and although she was not ready to step out from behind her wall, she was willing to wait.  To watch ... and to wait.

MIRACLE #8 -- MY HEART

After my divorce in Oklahoma, the Lord sent me back up to Omaha, because that is where I had a supportive system of dear friends, having been here from '74 to '82.  I arrived back here over Labor Day weekend, 1984, and lived with friends for a month until I had a job and found an apartment for me and my kids.

In April, the previous Springtime, I had begun to have heart pounding and nerve pain in my upper arms.  The family stress was driving me crazy, to say the least.  Later that month, on April 27th, the Lord truly laid on me to file for divorce and get my kids free.  They were headed for truly dangerous circumstances ... as was I.

During the summer in Oklahoma it was an extremely hard time ... extremely hard,  nothing I could have imagined when the separation went into place.  I had no money or way to provide for my kids.  A local ministry for women gave me the basic money I needed, found an apartment, made sure I had food, and anything else that was a necessity.  Also, a banker married to a former work friend, "loaned" me money, but didn't require a payment -- I think that bank "hid" me.  I had left my job in February to protect my kids, even though my husband rarely worked and was furious that I had quit. and after the separation, I kept looking for one, but during that phase of time many in Oklahoma had lost jobs, because of an oil issue.  The jobs I would normally have -- title insurance connected to real estate sales and closings -- weren't available at all.

 This was a gift from my ministry friend. 

She desired to have my kids and I now shown as the only family members.

[Mostly, so the kids could be touched.]

When the Lord, so to speak, moved me to Omaha, the doors opened.  Many blessings dropped into my life... many.

BUT my heart was pounding irrationally.  I often felt that while sleeping, and waking up and feeling heart-stress that a breathing problem was increasing.  I had no insurance, no extra money, no doctors I could afford, so couldn't be checked out.

I made some friends at a Teen Challenge get-together time at a local church where music and skits were part of every Friday evening.  It was a joyous, friendly, out-growing time.  Loved it!

One of my friends, Ken, mentioned a healing service at an Assembly of God church on Sunday evening in October and wanted to meet me there.  He said he would be in the balcony area.  So, I planned on going.  NOT for the healing service, but to spend time with my friend.

When I arrived, I discovered he had not come.  But I couldn't leave the service.  It had begun and I was interested in the singing and knew it could be a neat time to watch people be healed.  Had seen that ministry in place many times over the years in a variety of locations in various States.

Shortly after the service began, the woman said, "All here who have suffered from grief this year, please stand and we will pray for you." 

Approximately 900 people were there and 700 stood, of course.  Me, too, although I didn't see this as "grief" as much as "stress".

She and her friend would bring up the next ones, such as knees or lungs or migraines.  People would stand and be prayed for and healing would come to them.  It was nice to watch this occur so beautifully.

In between these healing sessions, focusing on the Lord's gifts, she would say, "One of you had grief and your heart nearly stopped.  The Lord has a Word for you."

Around the 4th time this was brought up, I thought, "Hmm.  Maybe it would be me, but I'm in the balcony and if I am nearly in the front, and someone stands from the 2nd row and says, 'Oh, it's ME!' I'm going to look like an idiot."  So, I wouldn't go.  AND, as I said before, I truly didn't refer to the problem as "grief"... only "stress".

The next time, however, she said, "I don't care if you are in the balcony.  The Lord has a Word for you."

I knew I needed to go down, and I did.

As I neared the front, she looked at me and nodded.  The Lord must have let her know it was truly me.  And she definitely had a Word for me.  She held me close and said, "You have been in grief, and the Lord says, 'Your heart has been shattered into fragments, daughter, but I have not lost a piece, and I will put it back together.'"

When I left her and the church, not feeling different in my heart at the time, but truly feeling different in my spirit, I knew this was truth to me and changes could come, would come.

Much of the time those previous months, in spite of the fact that He had done much for me through so many, I had felt as if I had lost the Lord.  Much sinful garbage connected to the divorce-changing lifestyle had invaded my life that summer in ways I had never anticipated. I had felt Him tap my shoulder many times and tell me I was still loved, was still His.  I couldn't turn my head towards Him, all I could do was cry.

After this healing service occurred, it wasn't my physical heart, but my spiritual heart that was healed.  However, the physical one was also improving...

===========
The truly physical heart healing took place in February, '85, four months later... and it was a miracle... and I'll share that next.
          

GROSS PYTHON

I posted about my fear of snakes  in April. 

Life began to change early this week.  Most mornings I am out and about on my 3-mile exercise walk.  Every once in a while I hear the Lord tell me to walk down a side block, and often don't know why.  Sometimes I meet someone.  Other times I simply pray regarding the houses and any other spiritual aspect that might pop in.  WELL, this time He told me to head down a block I hadn't taken before.  As I was 1/2 way along, I saw a garter snake on the sidewalk.  I stopped.  I wasn't sure whether it was dead or alive.  I shifted a tiny bit, and it stuck out it's tongue.  When I started to move again, it rushed away from me and up into the yard.

The good part?  I DID NOT SCREAM!!!  [I've done it before and caused other people to laugh.]  What does this mean to me?  The Lord has been healing my heart-filled fear of snakes. [Doesn't mean I want to go play with them, though.  Uh, UH!]

When I was thinking about this a couple days ago, I felt I had one I could share that would be funny/interesting. Might not scare you too much.  Here goes:

When I was in Uganda last time, arriving in November, 2003, I was staying at the New Hope Uganda orphanage.  My son and daughter, Sam and Adhe, didn't have space for me, so it was arranged that I could stay with Marian, a sponsorship director from UK.

One morning I was sitting down at the table to eat my tea-and-toast breakfast, glanced out the window, and saw a dead python being carried around. 

With my snake terrification, if it had been alive, I would have been climbing up the walls to reach the roof and not risk being chased or touched by it.

However, in this case, instead of hiding, I grabbed my camera and headed to their yard.  Took a few photos.  Sometimes the photos weren't as crazy as the words I was hearing.  The two girls had draped the python over their shoulders and wrapped it around them and then one of them said, "Yuk!  It's leaking on us." [It had been dead since the day before, so it's body fluid was pouring through the surface.  I can hardly imagine anything more horrible!]

Then I took the photo of it being held by the group.  It was about 15 feet long. [The house I'd been staying in is in the background.]

 

 One of the guys prepped the skin for making and selling a variety of items.  The next day I saw one of the young fellows of a ministry family holding it.

I wouldn't have accepted one of the items if given to me as a special gift by my best family or friends... whether there or here.  But many people around the world love the purses, shoes, belts, wallets and other merchandize pieces.

One "souvenir" I lost  -- one of it's teeth. 

Have so many cobra 

and python stories during the 12 years while in and out of Uganda, but this python bit the main one that made me grin.

Grinning is a rare "snake" experience, but I DID IT! How cool is that??

MIRACLE # 7 --- "HE TOUCHED ME"

Sometimes I'm overwhelmed by the kindness and grace of our dear Father. Every once in a while, when I am cleaning house and running up and down the stairs, I remember how easy it is now... and how tough it could have been for a "time, and times, and half a time" before.
==========
In November, 2005, I was visiting Susie. 

 

On Saturday evening, the night before I was leaving, I was leaning across a chair and reaching towards Susie to hand her something. I suddenly had a tear in my lower left leg. It hurt big time. As I tried to walk through the house down the halls or stairs, I could tiptoe or I could flat-foot, but I couldn't do anything in between without the pain and weakness hitting me significantly. I made it through the night, but the leg wasn't in great condition. And, in the morning, I was heading home.

My biggest concern? I would be driving about 550 miles and with one leg that was truly useful. Not that the left leg would keep me from driving -- since I didn't need to use it for the gas or brake pedals-- but climbing in and out of the car at rest areas and gas stations would be tough.

I decided to stop at a church in a very small town about 80 miles west of Susie's right before I hit the Interstate. 

 I had met the married pastor couple, Craig and Sonja, at a spiritual warfare meeting in another town on Wednesday evening when I was teaching about one of my main ministries. I knew they would be open to praying for my leg.

When I went into their church I was taken to a room where they and other leaders were meeting before the service was beginning. When Craig and Sonja saw me hobbling, they immediately said they would pray. They had me sit in the center of their group and laid hands on me, a couple ladies putting their hands on my leg. One especially kept rubbing the back of it from the calf to the heel. After about 10 minutes, sensing that my body had truly been touched, we "hallelujah"ed for a short while.  Then I needed to hit the road.  As I climbed in the car in the parking lot a small, very small, change had occurred. Even confident that the Lord had touched me, the pain wasn't gone, though, and I still struggled while walking.

However, it was amazing how things changed. Every time I stopped at a rest area, my leg improved. When I filled my gas tank, walking from the pump area to pay inside, the pain reduced; the twinging was still there, but less and less as the day's travel continued.

I reached home in the late afternoon. My husband, after talking with him and describing the pain the night before, assumed it was an Achilles tendon that had been torn. [I was told the same by a number of people, even nurses, both before and after the drive.] At that time we lived on the 3rd floor at an apartment building. Dave had already assumed I'd have to be held as I hopped up the stairs and then we'd be calling my doctor. 

He was as amazed as anyone could have been, because when I reached home, I could walk up the stairs without help. I could still feel some "twinginess", and, to be honest, sometimes felt a little nervous, wondering if the "healing" would somehow collapse. [My "faith" ain't perfect, even though He is.]

I was so blessed. During every one of the next few days the tightness and the "twinginess" reduced. Then it went away, entirely.

So, these years later, after that glorious healing, I am walking, and leaping, and praising God.
==============
Doesn't mean I haven't had other issues, some pretty consistent, as occurs to nearly everyone living in these "tents". I've even been told by Craig and Sonja that one reason I was healed was to encourage a couple of the new leaders who needed to understand that side of God's kindness to His kids. It was hoped that they would be continually willing to pray for those in need. I was just a "training tool".  Sure came out good for me!

MIRACLE # 6 -- WHEN I REPENT... HE RESTORES.

 This photo was taken 8 months after miracle occurred.

This involved Steve again, but the income and outgo was truly aimed at me.  He was used by the Lord to open my heart towards Him and trust Him even more.  I definitely was not a "Father" lover, yet ...  a basic Father follower, obeying when instructed. I tried to stay out of trouble as much as possible.  That was my goal.

God had, of course, stepped into my life very strongly a number of times  since my day of salvation, but, pushing nine more years, I was still never sure whether I was truly cared for and loved; instead, I felt I was put up with.  Since I was raised  with a "watching for exits" mentality, this New Life  hadn't broken into my heart on a regular basis.
 

February 12, 1975, I had a day off work.  My job had begun at an office in early January and, after my first paycheck, I had left my friend Susie's home and moved into an apartment. It was all coming together beautifully.  BUT I needed time to go to the utilities company and run some apartment-related errands and that was the first day I could, since the locations were open only during the business days and our “normal” work hours.

The night before, my son, Steve, who had just turned 2 on January 17th,  began whining and pulling his ear.  I refused to take it seriously, because I had chores to do and places to go and I couldn't risk losing that time.  I, basically, ignored him.

In the morning, I took him to Karen, the babysitter, told her his ear seemed to bother him and I'd be back when I was done running around.

I arrived at Karen's about 4:00.  She said he seemed to have a pretty high fever, but she didn't have a thermometer.  I touched him and he did feel hot, so I called a doctor's office.  I told the receptionist my son had a fever and he needed to be checked.   The receptionist, sounding annoyed, said, basically, it was OK to bring him in, but to get there as soon as possible, because they closed at 5:00.

I hurried.  When I walked in, a nurse had me take him to a room, and she took his temperature.  IMMEDIATELY, she started tearing his clothes off, hollered at another nurse, and they piled ice into a children's bathing tub, and forced him in, spreading the ice all over his body, him screaming, of course.  I was wide-eyed and didn't know exactly what was going on.  Finally, one of them said that his temperature was 105 degrees. They were anxious and working hard; I was horrified and felt that the "awful mom" had surfaced.  After about half an hour they were able to dress him ... he had been one unhappy boy! ... and the doctor gave me very clear instructions and, at the end, said that if I did everything carefully and correctly he would probably have the temperature drop much closer to the normal range in 24 hours.

When I got home, about 5:30, I put him in his pjs and laid him on the couch.  I hugged him and knelt down and cried and told the Lord I was so sorry I hadn't paid attention to Steve and hadn't tried to take care of him the way I should have, that I had put my errands first and ignored him.

Then I went to the kitchen, just a few feet away, and started cooking dinner.  I'd glance at him every few seconds, and he was sleeping.

An hour after coming home, having  been given a thermometer when leaving the doctor’s office,  I took his temperature.   I looked at it.  I took it again.

It was normal.  98.6.  NORMAL!

My life changed.  YES, Steve had been healed of allergies and iron deficiency the previous August, only a few months earlier, but neither of the consequences while going through that phase had been “my fault”.  It was simply life.  This one, to a significant “degree”, WAS my fault.  And, yet, God ... my FATHER ... stepped in to bless my heart, to let me know that I WAS His daughter, that He cared for ME.

I honestly don't know if Steve even recalls or knows this story.  But I have never forgotten a detail.  Why?  Because my heart began to be healed from fear of a Father -– any father -- and then taught how to rely on and love Him.  It didn't happen overnight, during that one short time, but the seed was planted deeply and solidly into my heart ... and, as stated before, MY LIFE CHANGED.

Since then I have grown to love -- and trust, and appreciate, and respect -- my Heavenly Father so much I can hardly wait to see Him!

 

MARY MAGDALENE -- Final Lenten Monologue

What will I do with Jesus? I will love Him!

I come here to the Garden often, but never without feeling I am on holy ground. I know some people think I'm foolish; I've been told, "Jesus is no longer in the Garden, you're wasting your time." They don't understand. I find my visits to this quiet, shaded haven refreshing and renewing. As Abraham and Jacob returned to Beth-el and found there a renewing of their covenants with God, so coming here provides a renewing of my spirit.

Jesus is my Lord and my Savior, my husband and my brother--but, mostly, Jesus is my friend. In fact, Jesus was my first friend. Shortly before I met Him, I had decided my life was worthless--less than worthless--and I would end it. Everyone I knew, everything I touched, turned to ashes. I lived in torment. Voices screamed in my head by day, and demons danced through my dreams when finally I slept. I was trapped. I knew so well the ugly face of sin with its bitterness, hatred and despair. Oh, how I wanted to die!

And then Jesus came. Not only, in my vision, was He strong and handsome, taller than King Saul must have been, a true seed of King David, but He was the first man I'd ever seen who wasn't afraid to be tender. When He held babies in his arms or touched people with His calloused carpenter hands, He was gentle as a summer breeze.

At first I merely watched from the midst of the crowds. I didn't trust men...any man. I agreed with the ancient observation that "the thoughts of a man's heart are only evil continually" and I determined not to be deceived by another one.

Occasionally, Jesus looked at me, and I knew He could see right into my soul. It frightened me, but I could never resist Him or shift my gaze. And, what amazed me even more, His eyes carried no condemnation. I sensed only that HE hurt because I did.

Early one morning, after another tormented night, I was sitting on a rock overlooking the lake. I heard a sound on the shore behind me. I think I knew who it was even before I turned. My heart began beating so hard it drowned out the sound of the waves lapping against the shore and the crying of the gulls. I wanted to run--but my legs wouldn't move. All He said was "Mary" and He touched my shoulder, and I crumpled at His feet in the sand and cried. All the agony of my life poured out in those tears. I cried 'til there was nothing left. And all that time, Jesus said nothing, did nothing. Just waited. Then He lifted me to my feet, cupped my face in His hands, and looked into my eyes.

I sensed rebuke, but I knew He wasn't rebuking me. And, one by one, my tormentors left. I don't know how to explain it, but I saw them leave, like shadows passing across the sun.

And I was free! It was wonderful! The wall around my heart shattered, and for the first time, I loved.

During the next two years I followed Him as often as I could, and through His teaching and presence, my heart over-flowed with joy.

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I thought I'd die when He did. I stayed near the cross til the soldiers made me leave. I don't remember much, except pain. Pain for His mother and John, for all the disciples and Jerusalem--but, to be honest, mostly pain for me.

Those next days were a blur. I couldn't understand why He died just when I was beginning to live.

And then Sunday came.

I still smile when I remember that Resurrection Day. Of course, at the time I was terrified, but in looking back I can't believe I didn't know who He was. At the very least I should have recognized the love and acceptance in His eyes...that never changes.

So, I come here. To rest, and to remember. Pain and suffering surround us. People are dying--on the INside. Not because they want to, but, like me, they simply don't know how to live.

I still hurt, for myself and for others. I still question. But I can never doubt. No matter how black the night in my soul or looming the problems, or large the ghosts that confront me, I know that I know that I know God loves ME. And that one shaft of light will always cut through the darkness that occasionally surrounds me--and comfort me and bring me out on the other side of my pain, of my sorrow--to wholeness, to joy and to life.
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Even though this was a monologue for the Lenten season, it covers the Lord in Mary's life before, during, and after the crucifixion, so I thought it would be best to post it afterwards when the rejoicing became truly "real". -- I wrote this script, but I also performed it. I have been "Mary Magdalene" a number of times over the years at churches -- and it doesn't make any difference how much I've aged. She's still herself.

"ASTONISHED WITH A GREAT ASTONISHMENT"

For years, just like many of you, of course, I've read the story of Jairus' daughter whom Jesus healed and then told her to "Get up!" And she did and began to walk around.

Somehow, I have just skimmed past what the parents thought or said or how they reacted. I was reading it in the KJV today and just had to laugh. Their response: They were astonished with a great astonishment.

When I checked other versions, it's pretty much the same, of course, but this had jumped out at me.

Now, of course, they were astonished. This much-loved 12-year old was already dead, according to those involved in their home. Wouldn't we be crushed at the loss, and then astonished at that glorious change?

What it made me wonder today was, even though I've not walked through anything like this, has the Lord made me "astonished with a great astonishment"?

The answer is YES!!

In April, 1966, He broke into my life when there was no "logic" for it, and because of that breakthrough my whole life is different, drowned in hope instead of buried in hopelessness.


He healed my heart twice in two different churches here in Omaha -- Oct., '84 and Feb., '85. I was headed towards stroke, heart attack or death in my late 30s... and He touched it twice in 4 months and the pain and abnormal heartbeats stopped. I was very "astonished with a great astonishment". Doctors, meds, nothing made a difference. He did.

He dropped Dave into my life in May, 1985. I would never have imagined a man like him. When we were casually talking one day, even though I was very frank with him about my background, he didn't even blink. He was much younger than I -- 14+ years younger -- was a youth leader, highly respected at church, a wonderful pianist, and a giver beyond belief, both then and now. Since Day One, he has always treated me with great respect. He appreciates me, and expects nothing. He wants me to be "myself", whatever that might mean, wherever I might be in life. He wants me to serve the Lord the way He calls me, period. For nearly 27 years, these never-anticipated-in-my-life years, I am often "astonished with a great astonishment".

A major blessing: Traveling to Uganda, Morocco, Costa Rica, England, Paris, Canada...and all around the U.S. since the late 1980s. Previously, I was rarely able to travel outside the nearest locations wherever I was living, because of poverty and responsibility. But missions and serving was laid in my heart when I was 10 years old and Jim Elliot was killed in Ecuador in January, 1956... I read it in the newspaper on the floor in my living room in Tacoma, WA, and the desire to go and help piled into me then. I had very little knowledge of the Lord at that time. SO, from 10 to 42, I traveled very little... then that exploded in both time and distance. To having traveled, ministered, given, shared, loved... and been loved... I am overwhelmed with the kindness and joy that the Lord has placed in my life... "astonished with a great astonishment".


And I could place a mile-long list of wonderful friends and family the Lord has dropped into my life. The only reason I can't put too many details is if I forget someone, somehow, they might be hurt; and, if I mention someone who wants to be kept in the background they might be hurt... so I can't risk it. But, considering my former horrible behavior and my ugly lifestyle and the stresses even after the Lord broke into my life, to be blessed, loved and cared for by so many "sweethearts".... I am regularly "astonished with a great astonishment".

And how did this pour into me today?...

"Mark 5:40 ... he [Jesus] taketh the father and the mother of the damsel, and them that were with him, and entereth in where the damsel was lying. 41 And he took the damsel by the hand, and said unto her, Talitha cumi; which is, being interpreted, Damsel, I say unto thee, arise. 42 And straightway the damsel arose, and walked; for she was of the age of twelve years. And they were astonished with a great astonishment.