Month: August 2023

Sometimes Winning Means Letting Go

Ch. 7 of Amber O’Brien’s Book Love. Always. Wins.
Short true story entitled “Unshackled”

Clunk. She dropped the phone and started to sob uncontrollably.

Hearing only the dial tone, I collapsed in a nearby chair stunned by my own words. I could only wonder how my dear friend would respond as she sat in her wheelchair in a psychiatric day room while she recovered from a stroke. Would she follow through on her threats to end her life ? Did I just push her over the edge?

Two-and-a-half years before this call, I had moved right next door to her and we had often chatted while our children played. Soon I discovered her grief due to the recent loss of her father, along with other stressful life changes. But as the months passed, Cindy seemed to be stuck in her sorrow. Because of the continuous blue days, she enlisted a psychiatrist and received medications, yet nothing seemed to alleviate her pain. In addition, sleepless nights and panic attacks escalated into a severe clinical depression.

My heart hurt for her as I watched her struggle. I doubled some meals to share with her family, and her three children often spent time in my home as I helped them with schoolwork. I held her hand while she cried, and often prayed for her. However, my words never seemed to sink in.

During this time, I observed Cindy’s unending freefall into the depths of unsuccessful treatments that seemed to make her situation worse, not better. I felt so helpless. Admission to the hospital seven separate times proved fruitless for her, even while different combinations of medications had been prescribed. Horror shook me the day I noticed the black and blue marks that ran all the way up and down her arms because of the needles used to put her under for electrical shock treatments. As a last resort, my friend submitted to ECT which erased her memory and left her in a zombie-like state and with no expression on her face.

Equally painful was the awareness I had of the profound effects that Cindy’s illness caused for her children. Her voice flat, her words few, and her lack of awareness about her family shadowed the entire household.

Medical setback, after setback, seemed to fling Cindy deeper into depression. Where was God? I wondered. Why won’t you help this family?

Then the depression penetrated so deeply that Cindy attempted suicide. One day, after her family had left the house for school and work, she swallowed a bottle of pills. Her husband found her in time and drove her to the emergency room. She screamed, “NO! I want to die! Leave me alone!” again and again as they pumped her stomach.

In contrast, right next door in our own home, my two little girls and I felt excitement as we prepared for our third baby. But to our great shock, Megan was born three months early, and soon rested in the clear plastic incubator in the NICU. I sat in a wheelchair beside her, dazed, and sore with the staples in my stomach from the emergency cesarean.

Two days later on Christmas morning , I found myself still alone and confused in my stark, white hospital bed. They released me so that I could go home to be with my family, but Megan would need to stay in the NICU and would not be coming with me. Why did you allow this to happen, Lord? I pleaded fervently, Please , please, don’t let my baby die!

~~~

On January 30th in a psychiatric hospital not far away, my dear friend, Cindy, experienced a hypertensive crisis. After being transferred to a local shock trauma center, she underwent surgery due to a stroke and remained in ICU. Now Cindy lay paralyzed, unable to speak or move. So now, in addition to battling depression, she became a patient incapable of attending to her own personal needs of bathing, dressing, feeding herself, and walking.

It was only three days later on February 2nd, that I sat, again, in another hospital holding my precious baby girl for the very last time. After forty long days of ups and downs, the doctor informed us that her little organs had begun to permanently shut down. I held my tiny daughter in my arms as she breathed her last while my husband cried softly in the corner of the room.

During this final moment that I held our infant daughter, I sensed a supernatural peace. I knew for certain that Megan, an innocent baby, was now “healed in heaven,” and safe in the arms of Jesus.

I absolutely felt God’s peace and presence that day, but as the weeks after her death crawled by, my initial numbness melted away. I felt overcome with disappointment and anger.

Cindy became more and more angry at God too.

In fact, Cindy’s anger prevented her from following instructions, and she decided to stop taking her medication and food altogether. That is when Cindy’s husband called to inform me that, “Tomorrow they will have to put a tube down her throat to force feed her.”

Suddenly, my compassion for Cindy turned to anger. When I heard that she was making a conscious decision to end her life, then I had had enough. My own loss over Megan’s death fueled my passion as I picked up the phone to call Cindy.

Her ears recognized my voice, but not my stern, authoritative tone. “I heard you have stopped eating?” I started.

“That’s right,” she answered. After a pause, she continued. “Maybe when I’m dead and gone, then everyone will realize how sick I really was, and they’ll be sorry. Mark will be sorry he didn’t take my illness more seriously.”

“Cindy —NO ONE is going to feel sorry for you if you die. They are going to feel sorry for Mark who would be left alone with three small children. Life will go on if you die. Sure, Mark will grieve for a little while, but then he will marry another woman! Someone else who will then take care of your children! They need you, Cindy! They are not being properly cared for.” “That’s Mark’s job now,” she retorted.

“NO, it isn’t! You are the mother. You have been very strong-willed and selfcentered. All you have thought about is yourself and your needs. You never flick an eye to help others, not even your own family. You’re so wrapped up in anger and resentment that you can’t see beyond the tip of your nose!”

That is when she dropped the phone out of her hand that had been propped on the wheelchair. Clunk! Unbeknownst to me, she began to sob so loudly that staff ran to her and took her back to her room.

A few hours later, providentially, a pastor visited to talk and to pray with her.

He reminded her about how God valued her life, and about how her family loved her and needed her. Later that afternoon, Cindy pondered my piercing words that paved the way for her to hear the warmth of God’s love for her spoken by the minister.

Over the next few weeks, Cindy worked with a physical therapist every day as she recovered from the damage done by the stroke. From relearning to feed herself and to walk again, she made steady progress.

After time to reflect, Cindy made an important phone call to her husband. “Mark —I want to tell you! I gave my life to Christ last night! I could hardly sleep all night! —I was so full of joy!”

Cindy progressed physically, but I was most excited about her new desire to pray and to memorize scripture. I wrote out Bible verses for her which she taped to the wall next to her hospital bed and she memorized each one. Not long after, she asked God to help her to forgive her father and all the other ones who had hurt her. Cindy began to pray, keep a journal, and listen to a Christian radio station.

Four months after the stroke, she finally returned home. Even though she had more speech, occupational, and physical therapy ahead of her, and she couldn’t even drive a car for a few more months, her depression had lifted. Day by day, I watched as God healed her physically, mentally, and spiritually.

One morning, I visited her home while she was still recovering and sitting in a rolling chair. She shone with gratefulness as she explained to me that she wanted to buy pizza for all those still left behind in the psychiatric ward. In addition to her awareness of others, I noticed that her eyes often looked upward when she shared about even the smallest reason for thanksgiving that others might take for granted. “I was taking a bath and noticed my toes!

How amazing of God to give us toes so that we can balance.”

Twenty-five years later, even though other life hardships and challenges have taken place, Cindy has not fallen back into depression. Now she peer coaches others who are hurting in her church and in the surrounding community, and she shares her amazing testimony of God’s faithfulness.

Both of my prayer requests for healing were answered for my dear friend and for my beautiful baby.

One healed on earth, the other healed in heaven.

* * *

Surrender

(short poem)

He stretched out his wounded hands,

and embraced the world,

“Father, forgive them,

for they know not what they do.”

Then He surrendered His Spirit,

And His will to His father.

Oh, this is Love.

After Rising from the dead,

He once more stretched out his nail-scarred hands,

And said, “Peace be with you,”

A trinity of times.

He then breathed out His Spirit

“Forgive, as I forgive.”

Oh, this is Love.

* * *

Mary’s Love Song

Poem

Its already been a long road,

They judge and stare at me,

Every door was closed in Bethlehem,

But your Love rescues me.

They already try to kill Him,

King Herod makes us flee,

A sword will pierce this mother’s heart,

But your Love sets me free.

Heaven, Manna from Heaven,

Purest of Love and Light,

Rests in my arms tonight,

Heaven, I’m holding Heaven,

And. All. Will. Be. Made. Right.

All will be made right… through Jesus,

All will be made right,

Heaven’s best sent down to save us, so,

All. Will. Be. Made. Right.

Both the Holy Lamb of Heaven,

and All-Mighty God is He,

He comes to break the chains of sin,

To set All people free.

In this world we will have trouble,

So He came to hold our hands,

Our story ends in victory,

Heaven for those who stand.

Heaven, Manna from Heaven,

Purest of Love and Light,

Rests in my arms tonight,

Heaven, I’m holding Heaven,

And. All. Will. Be. Made. Right.

All will be made right… through Jesus,

All will be made right,

Heaven’s best sent down to save us, so,

All . Will. Be. Made. Right.

* * *

The Pieta’s Peace

~~Sometimes winning means letting go~~

I couldn’t stop gazing at her hands. Carved from white marble, they did not tightly grip him, but they gently cradled his limp body upon her lap. Her left hand lay open with its palm facing upward as her beautiful, serene face admired her lifeless son.

St. Peter’s Basilica in Vatican City overwhelmed me as I knew I could never take in all the meaning and beauty within a single visit. One of the largest churches in the world, as well as a masterpiece of architecture, it contains numerous chapels and altars with lavish decorations, renaissance paintings, mosaics, and sculptures.

Despite the numerous fascinating art adhering to every ceiling, wall, and floor in the massive cathedral that houses the tomb of St. Peter, I felt drawn back to Mary’s hands. The smooth, small relinquished open palms portrayed in the masterpiece, The Pieta, by the world-renowned sculptor, Michelangelo, spoke to my own grieving heart.

The Pieta depicts a moment just after Jesus is taken down from the cross, and when his mother, Mary, holds him in her lap one last time. The sculpture, chiseled out of stone 1500 years prior, mesmerizes crowds today who stand in silence to comprehend the heart-wrenching experience of Mary. The son who the angel had promised would be called the Son of God, lay dead in her arms after the long torture of scourging by whips, rejection and mocking by men, and dying the horrendous, slow death of suffocaton on the cross. Despite this treatment, Jesus demonstrated love until His last dying words which extended forgiveness for those who hurt him.

I kept wandering back to this stunning statue to ponder the secret of Mary’s beautiful, peaceful face. The answer, I realized, lay in those open, trusting hands. Mary’s hands still rested palm up while Jesus lay on her lap. Meanwhile, my own heart and hands tightly gripped a loved one back home who faced a difficult situation.

Captivated by The Pieta and the message it carried, I decided to google Michelangelo and his timeless sculpture. At the early age of six, after losing his mother to a long period of illness, Michelangelo was sent to stay with his uncle, a stone cutter. After suffering such a tragic loss at such a tender age, Michelangelo knew the agony of grief. Perhaps, though, he also learned how God could reconcile loss as he stepped into his career as an artist using the skills he learned in his uncle’s workshop.

The word “pieta” literally means “pity, compassion, and suffering.” Michelangelo revealed later that he did not want his version of the Pieta to represent death, but rather “to show the religious vision of abandonment.” Abandonment. Yes, that is what those surrendering hands demonstrate.

I interpreted the scene as Mary trusting in God, and giving back to Him the gift that had been given to her so many years before. I wondered if the sculpture that took two years to complete could have been Michelangelo’s gift back to God. Maybe he learned as a young boy the secret of abandonment, letting go, and he displayed that serenity that is reflected in the carving of Mary’s face. Perhaps he desired to share with others the peace that could be found when one loosens their grip, and stops trying to hold on so hard.

The image of the Pieta rested in my mind even when I’d returned to our accommodations that evening. Kneeling beside the bed, I stretched out my hands, palms turned upward, and I placed my own struggling loved one back into God’s strong, loving, and dependable hands. Yielding, I released this special one to God, and said out loud, “I give her back to you. She is Yours.”

I continued to pray this, “prayer of abandonment,” whenever an anxious thought gripped me. I chose to release my own expectations and demands, and made room for God to intervene and work. As I handed her back to God, I felt peace. My surrender led to to sweet, indescrible peace, as beautiful as the expression on Mary’s serene face.

* * *

* * *

Discussion questions for those who want to delve deeper:

  1. The Story of Cindy Narup, produced by Unshackled, the award-winning radio drama through The Pacific Garden Mission in Chicago is Episode #2616, February 2001. While first created in English, one can now listen to Cindy’s story on the website, Unshacked.org, in Korean, Polish, Romanian, Russian, and Spanish. Thousands have tuned in to hear her story from around the world. In truth, we all face the challenges of being shackled by selfish attitudes and choices. But, God’s powerful and constant love can set us free. What did Cindy finally do to let God in?
  2. Look up Proverbs 27:6 and Proverbs 24:26. Do you appreciate when afriend is honest with you? How can we know when to speak up, or when to be silent? (Remember in the previous chapter, Not Guilty and The Garden of Paradise, that the author confronted a friend when the best action in that case actually would have been to be quiet and listen).
  3. Look up 2 Corinthians 5:17. How does this passage describe Cindy? Whatother analogies remind you of transformation?
  4. Who has God arranged as your neighbor? Whose path do you cross often?The author grew to love Cindy as they spent time together, and attempted to express love to her neighbor in multiple practical ways. If Cindy had not had a close relationship with the author, then could the phone call have ended badly?
  5. The poem, Mary’s Love Song, proclaims the final victory that will result because of Jesus. Look up Colossians 1:19-20. What is God’s will for all things? How does this need to be accomplished? While you are in Colossians, chapter one, read verse 17. Can you trust Him to hold you and your family together? Now, extra slow, read Colossians 1:15-23. What is your role as described in this passage?
  6. Read again, slowly, the poem, The Pieta’s Peace. Study the sketch of this famous masterpiece. Especially observe the position of Mary’s hands. Think about what, or who, you might be gripping?
  7. Look up Luke 7:36-50. How do we receive true peace?

* * *

Time for Dessert

Write a letter to someone who has hurt you. Write out all your anger and resentment that you have been holding inside. Now rip the letter up and go forward !

Epilogue

How Not to Host a Husband Bash

( Ch.6 of Amber O’Brien’s Love. Always. Wins.)

~~Sometimes love turns the tide~~

I recently attended a tea party fit for a princess. My generous friend shared her gift of hospitality with five of us and considered every detail. She greeted us with warm enthusiastic hugs individually as each one arrived at her door. Real china and crystal candelabras set the lavish table, and soon, the scones, quiche, and chocolate-covered strawberries followed. As the tea steeped, she asked clever questions of each guest so as to connect us all in a positive manner and to help the conversation to flow.

But then… the sweet picture-perfect scene turned sour.

The conversation spiraled into negative sharing about our husbands. Light- hearted jokes snowballed into complaints and ungratefulness. Regrettably, I laughed along and joined the banter.

But then… the gracious and wise hostess offered the suggestion that turned back the tide of our elegant tea party. “Why don’t we go around the table and say something good about our husbands?” she encouraged us. “Okay? I’ll start…” she began.

My friend shared a cherished routine that her and her husband enjoy when he returns home from a business trip. Soon after he’s home again, they dress up (her husband puts on a dinner jacket), and they dance in the kitchen to celebrate!

Now the energy flowed as each woman shared a positive point about her husband. One couple, we learned, text each other the words of their favorite songs during the day as a code for romantic messages. A chorus of women giggled, “That’s so beautiful! We love that idea!”

After taking a sip of the now simmered tea, another friend thought of how her husband always complimented her in public, and how she wanted to be more like him in this way.

The previous drip-dripping of negativity that wears away at relationships, turned into a rain of refreshment. Our time together resulted in new ideas and in a renewed appreciation of our loved ones.

In the book of Proverbs, the impact of a wife’s nagging and negative words is compared to an irritating leak…drip, drip, drip.

“A nagging wife is like water going drip-drip-drip on a rainy day.” Proverbs 27:15

In addition, the book of Judges tells the story of strong Samson and the constant imploring words of Delilah. She ‘nags him to death’ and he eventually reveals the actual secret of his hidden strength. This results not only in Samson’s eyes being dug out, but also in him being chained in bondage until the end of his life.

Words can tear down and words can build up. Smearing the dirt on our husbands is like rolling in the mud for everybody to see because we are one unit as husband and wife.

I know the excuses we tend to give because I’ve used them myself. “I’m just venting,” or, “My friends are my therapists.” But a therapist would not personally know your husband and would not be passing any information along to others. In truth, your friends probably will. At the very least, their opinion of your spouse will decrease.

So guard your mouth and speak only life-giving, delicious tidbits about your spouse. Love protects relationships and looks for the best in others.

What should you do the next time you are tempted to focus on a negative quality of your spouse?

Take out a pen and paper, and write down ten positive statements about them instead. The next time a situation arises, read the list out loud.

Be ready for the next time when a friend begins to share some of her complaints. Perhaps interject something like: “I know that Joe isn’t perfect, but what is something that he does really well?” A true friend will support your marriage and help pull you out of the pit of self-pity.

So… lay out the good china dishes, my friend, and fill them with the choicest of words.

~~Love never grows old~~

As I was walking down the beach today, I overheard a white-haired lady chatting with her friends. “Do you know what my number number one bucket list item is?” she paused, and then exclaimed, “To fall in Love!” and added, “Again!”

Was she a widow? Was she divorced? All I knew was that she placed falling in love, AGAIN, as her top priority.

While I continued to walk along the shore, I remembered a simple poem that I had written many years ago about God’s desire for us to each fall in love with our spouses, again and again. God can ‘make all things new.’ We can’t control our spouse or change him, but we can ask God to help us to be the best wife and the best friend to our husband as possible.

How to Fall in Love… Again

Oh give my husband a brand new wife,

One that will partner lovingly.

Give him the helpmate that he so needs,

And may that ‘new wife’ always be me.

Oh give my husband a hot lover,

One that will surprise lovingly.

Give her energy and fresh ideas,

And may that ‘lover’ always be me.

Oh give my husband a new best friend,

One that will listen lovingly.

Give her Your wisdom to find the good,

And may that ‘best friend’ always be me.

As newlyweds, Dave and I searched for our first Christmas tree. I remember shivering in the cold, and being perfectly willing to take home any one of the many trees that we spotted along the way.

But Dave kept searching for, “the perfect tree,” which we all know is not a thing. (Neither is there a perfect wife).

This poem was my tongue-in-cheek way to find the good in having a husband who takes soooo long to pick out certain items.

I hope, sweet sister, that you will look for the positive qualities in those around you. When I get frustrated or angry, for instance, sometimes I make a list of the top ten great qualities about my husband. Focusing on the good always changes my perspective. Perhaps the best gift you could give you and your spouse today is to start making such a list right now.

“Finally, brothers and sisters,

whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable

—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy

—think about such things.”

(Philippians 4:8)

Moon Beams

Soon after the “I do’s,” and sometimes even during the honeymoon, we realize that our spouse might not be as perfect as we once imagined. On the other hand, despair might drag us down when we learn that we have disappointed our dear one, and may have grown less-than-shiny in their eyes, as well.

We are left with a decision to either run away, or to stay, and look up to the only One who will love us completely, and meet our deepest needs.

Oh my sister, we so long for beauty and to be beautiful, don’t we? The answer is one and the same. For wrapped up in human skin, our heavenly father sent a gift of true beauty and pure perfection. As we seek to spend time with Him, more rays of His light, beauty, and love will reflect out to others. We will mirror back His healing love just as the lightless moon reflects the powerful brilliance of the sun.

Oh, what comfort. Despite our many craters of flaws and mistakes, God’s love is more. God’s love, poured out for us on the cross, smooths over and makes us flawless. Like a waxing moon in a velvet sky, your soul is growing more radiant as you continue to choose to turn toward the Son.

A Mid-Life Epiphany

Husbands please be patient,

I know we now both agree,

Your wife is far from perfect,

Just like your Christmas tree.

Our needles are brown and shedding,

Our bottoms have grown too wide,

Once firm branches are now drooping,

Too tattered for trimmings to hide.

Don’t look too close is now our plea,

Your search might be mistaken,

And please don’t look around fretting,

“All her youth has now been taken.”

Long ago Magi searched the skies,

Longing for Israel’s winning King,

Wise men still seek to find this Son,

A perfection worth worshiping.

So husbands look up past the tree,

Echo out epic epiphany,

“As the moon mirrors the sun’s light,

You reflect God’s love beautifully. ”

Stay

~~Sometimes love doesn’t take the easy way~~

Grimacing in pain, he gripped his cane while he teetered stiffly to our table, like an accident victim in a full body cast who was just learning to walk. However, once he finally arrived, he didn’t sit down because for John, standing was only slightly less painful than sitting.

So John stood by our round table at the restaurant, while his wife, my husband, and I, enjoyed our spicy Mexican tacos in iron-wrought chairs. He did not stand in order to see the winding river below our patio, but to find relief from his chronic back pain. This awful pain had worsened over the past two decades that John and his wife, Bonnie, had continually sought medical care and prayed for God’s intervention.

My heart hurt as I watched his handsome face (much too young for a cane) wince in pain at every movement. I could only imagine the long-suffering heart of his wife who has lovingly cared for him each and every day, through surgeries and ‘recoveries’ due to his long term back issues.

Bonnie patiently ‘waits’ on God as she also lovingly ‘waits’ on her husband. For months she brought food to his upstairs bed as it was too painful for him to move downstairs. She chose commitment over fleeing, as most days she is also housebound.

However, although detained in her own home, her example of sacrifice and faithfulness reaches to her children and others, like the brilliant light that the moon reflects for so many during long, dark nights. The moon’s beautiful glowing is but a reflection of the awesome sun, which is powerful, radiant, and the center of our universe. Bonnie and John have made their devotion to Jesus, the Light of the World, the center of their family’s universe.

She spoke these words to us across the table, as gently as her life demonstrates them:

“Love is not a feeling… Love is a commitment.”

She faithfully holds on to her marriage vows of, “for Better or for Worse,” with one hand while her other hand clutches God’s promises to be faithful to her and her family.

Her greatest concern is for her children’s character. They observe real life lessons day-in and day-out as both of their parents remain steadfast in their hope and trust in God, despite the failed procedures and chronic pain.

She has a long term perspective. Bonnie refers to this time on earth as “a blip” compared to eternity.

Her commitment is to God and to her husband. Her desire is for her children to marry someday and to be spouses who exhibit true persevering love in every circumstance.

She. Is. More. Beautiful. —than any runway model. Bonnie models

True.

Unselfish. Enduring. Committed. Love.

* * *

What should you do, sweet friend, when the feelings fade? When life disappoints?

When you want to flee?

To give up?

Look to God’s love wrapped in raw flesh on the cross. Did Jesus feel like carrying his cross? Did He feel like staying on the cross? Remember how in the garden He begged that the bitter cup be taken away?

Jesus, all human, and, at the same time, all God, could have come down at any moment. But instead, Jesus stayed on the cross —for us.

Love stayed. He stayed.

He stayed because He loves you, my dear one,

and He so desires to spend eternity with you.

Love stayed.

Love became the way.

* * *

Discussion questions for those who want to delve deeper:

  1. Have you ever been to a tea party that turned sour? Why is it so easy to complain about those closest to us?
  • Read and underline Proverbs 14:1. What does a wise woman do instead? Turn to Proverbs 18:21. What is the most powerful part of your body?
  • Read Matthew 7:1-5. Ouch! Do you notice your own personal plank, or the sawdust of another? How can we accomplish this difficult task?
  • In Mid-Life Epiphany, the author bemoans that she is changing as she grows older, and is no longer “perfect” in her husband’s eyes. What makes a person beautiful to you? To God?
  • Can we expect to change our spouse? How can we become a better wife, or friend?
  • How is Bonnie like, ‘the full moon on a velvet night’?  Does our culture encourage this commitment? Do you feel like running away sometimes from your situation? (*To be sure, at times a trusted Christian friend or counselor might help to gain perspective when we share personal thoughts —which is very different from the story of the ‘husband bashing’ that might occur in a social setting).
  • What would our world be like if Jesus did not ‘Stay’? Why did He ‘Stay’ for you?

* * *

Time for Dessert

Sit down and write 10 positive things about your spouse or family member.

Better yet, after you make your list, place it on their pillow tonight.

You both will sleep better.

When you need God the most..He is already there.

In The Midst of Storms

~ Sometimes love means getting wet in the rain. ~

Ch.5 of Amber O’Brien’s book Love.Always.Wins.

So. Much. Rain.

For two whole weeks ⁠—long, dark days of rain ⁠—short, violent storms and hail. Broken branches littered my yard and canceled plans littered my calendar.

“Where is Noah?” I asked, “Is his ark about to pass us by?” I teased my coworkers as we looked out my office window at the sheets of rain falling on the parking lot.

But what I was really looking for was a rainbow.

Don’t we all hope for the rainbows? Aren’t we all searching for some beauty after the pain, some encouragement after the rain?

But for the longest time I couldn’t find one.

“Look for the sun,” my husband reminded me. “Both the sun and rain are needed at the same time to create a rainbow.” And then… It. Happened.

On our way to dinner we drove through the middle of a perfect rainbow. Glorious colors —red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet on both sides of a giant arch with the ends close to each side of the road. Our car slowed to a saunter under the middle of a breathtakingly beautiful rainbow.

My sweet sister, Liese, calls this, “A kiss from God.” A kiss or God-wink is an aha moment when our loving father provides a reminder that He is always with us and knows what we need.

This rainbow reminded me of the promises from our loving, caring creator that joy does come after times of drought —and it does come after long nights of doubt.

Most comforting to me was the realization that I didn’t have to wait until the rain had ended to see a rainbow. Both sun and rain are needed at the same time.

In my soul I was reminded of God’s faithfulness —I am here. I am here in the rain. I am here in your pain.

Soon after I noticed God’s sign in the sky and I caught my breath, I began to sing the chorus of a poem I had written years before:

In the midst of storms, rainbows are born, His love shines through our tears.

In the midst of storms, rainbows are born,

He is here, He is here.

He loves you, my sweet sister. He promises to be with you through the storm. Just as Noah and his family stepped off the ark to realize the beautiful bow in the sky, the fresh arched piece of God’s gift of glory covers the roads you embark on.

Sweet surprises are ahead for you.

Your part is simple… just like my husband encouraged me, “Look for the Son.”

* * *

In the Midst of Storms

* * *

Kind Kisses

~ Sometimes love means being kind first. ~

If looks could kill, then every morning she killed me again, and again.

Each morning that she dropped her daughter off at our school, our paths crossed, and I noticed her body froze, her face turned to stone, and her eyes pierced my own when I greeted her. The constant reminder of how much discord existed between us when we saw one another seemed to make her more irritated and miserable.

Months before, we’d had a tough meeting. It happened when my job had been to set some boundaries with her after her unpleasant words toward one of my employees. As a result, she was asked not to interact, or even to approach that person for a temporary period.

My assumption had been that she would pull her child from the program, but instead, she kept her daughter in our community because she thrived in our care. But maybe, she had just stayed to make my life miserable.

So far, she was winning.

I felt ready to move on and to forgive her for the incident, but her eyes demonstrated that, “if looks could kill,”then she wished, instead of moving on, that she might want to, “move over,” my dead body.

My initial tactic had been to act cheerful and friendly when I spotted her arriving at school with her daughter. “Good morning!” I’d greet her with a smile, and tried to push through the uncomfortable situation.

The upbeat engagement that I attempted only seemed to result with her increased irritation. Her already anxious face grew exceedingly serious each time she stepped through the door to leave her daughter before going on to her high-level corporate position.

Unfortunately, I am ashamed to admit that I grew weary and turned my greeting into one of sarcasm one morning when I called out, “Have a nice day!” She picked up my tone, and responded in a like manner, leaving me with a feeling of defeat and disappointment in myself.

Weeks passed while I now resorted to avoid her. However, the daily tension became so great, that I decided to zero in on the problem with God.

“Oh Lord, what can I do to make this better?” Vaguely recalling a Bible verse from Proverbs about winning over an enemy with kindness, I began a google search. “A gift in secret pacifies anger,” it states in Proverbs 21:13.

What gift could I give her? I kept thinking about this, and praying. I realized that some common ground that we shared was the joy of her daughter. In fact, this woman was a wonderful mother, even so much that she chose to leave her daughter in the best situation despite her own personal discomfort. Maybe I could write her a card about her bright and engaging daughter that she could read in her own personal space. Taking a pen, I shared the truth about what a gift that Becky continued to be at our school. To illustrate, I included some specific examples for her encouragement.

A few days later, our paths crossed, and this time her face softened when she saw me. She approached me and thanked me for the card. After chatting briefly about her amazing daughter, we both went on to enjoy our day.

“Looks can kill,” but a thoughtful, authentic gift can heal.

* * *

Creamy, Cool Kisses

~~Sometimes love remains anonymous~~

Yesterday marked the anniversary of my infant daughter’s ‘Heaven Day.’

After 40 days of encouraging ups and heartbreaking downs in the NICU, God’s loving presence embraced me as I held my baby’s beautiful, perfectly formed body for the last time. Peace covered me like the soft, warm wings of the angels that carried her home.

Days later, while I watched her tiny coffin lowered carefully into the frozen ground, this peace continued to cover me as the thick, white snow clings to a barren tree.

Soon after all my friends and family went back to their own lives, I realized why the loss of a child has been described as having one’s arm cut off. The limb will never grow back, and the pain is agonizing as the process of the raw, open wound slowly heals. Insensitive comments and pat explanations sting as if salt is being rubbed into the open wound.

My husband and I both carried gaping wounds and grieved differently. As a result, we could not comfort each other. During this lonely, terrible time of darkness, my sensitive small daughters each regressed as they reacted to the recent rollercoaster of events and emotions. The oldest, who before Megan’s death had been potty-trained, reverted and started to cling to me for support. Both vied for my attention, and bickered between themselves. I struggled to care for them as the grief sapped so much of my energy.

For example, I remember standing at the sink one day, and yelling out to God, “Why did you give her to me… only to take her away?” Tears ran down my cheeks and I shook with pain. Underneath my anger cried a hurt little girl who felt that God had ignored her prayers. Truly, I had begged for God to heal my baby.

A few months after both the funeral and my emotional outburst to God, I bundled up my two older daughters (three-and-a-half, and two-years-old), and drove to the local mall. Soon after we arrived, I decided to buy ice cream for my precious little ones in the food court. When I approached the register to pay for it, the cashier explained that our treats had been taken care of. The bearded man explained, “Each day a man comes here, and picks someone to buy ice cream for. Today he picked you and your little girls.” Oh what a sweet kiss from God when I needed it the most.

My need wasn’t money, for I had plenty to buy ice cream. But what I had needed to know was that God saw me. I needed to know that He cared about me, and that He would tend to my tender faith and raw questions.

I now had proof that I was not alone. This was the beginning of my awakening to the fact that God saw my sore, hurting heart, and grieved with me.

He would gently guide me through my it, and help one moment at a time.

God’s loving touch of sweet provision soothed my raw, hurting heart as cool, sweet ice cream runs down and coats a sore throat.

Twenty-four years later, my eyes still fill with mist when I remember how I felt during this time, the lowest and loneliest season in my life. But then those sad tears join with ones of gratefulness as I also remember God’s personal kisses of kindness.

I now realize how important doing acts of kindness anonymously can be, for then the recipient does not have to use up energy to repay anybody back. Because of this, the recipient can truly receive a gift from the hand of God ⁠—the One who is The Giver of all good gifts.

I call these inspired and Spirit-led acts of kindness giving a KISS from God.

K – Kindness

I – In

S – ‘Spired by the

S – Spirit (The Holy Spirit)

A KISS is different from the often referred to, “Random Act of Kindness” or “RAK,” which has the connotation of just being due to random luck. Instead, a “Kiss” in not accidental at all, but consists of who looks and prays for someone who is hurting, and by listening to God, takes action for how to best respond.

“What is Love to me?” someone might ask.

A small cone of vanilla ice cream given by a stranger.

* * *

Discussion questions for those that want to delve deeper:

1. What does a rainbow promise in the Bible? Look up Genesis 9: 9-17. The Bible begins and ends with a rainbow, for in the last book, Revelation, a rainbow circles God’s throne. See Revelation 4:1-4. What do you think this means?

1. Ponder and share a specific way that God has ‘kissed you’ recently with His kindness.

1. In Kind Kisses, a written note softens a strained situation. Have you ever given or received such a gift? Is the Holy Spirit leading you to express love to someone in your world?

1. Sometimes, like in Creamy, Cool Kisses, the best kind of gift might be anonymous. Why is it more difficult to give in secret? Or, is it easier? Share an example from your life.

1. How can we allow the Holy Spirit to guide us so that our ‘kiss’ reaches the right person at the right time?

1. Look up Colossians 3:12-14. Read it slowly. How can your love act like glue in your relationships?

1. How is the acronym RAK different from KISS? Why does the word, ‘random,’ not work as well in our walk with the Lord?

* * *

Time for a Dessert Challenge

Place a giftcard in an envelope with a short note that says,

God sees you and adores you, for a neighbor, or a friend who is struggling.