tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22918214120672615352024-03-13T19:54:26.615-04:00a ministry of hopeSome Bible studies and thoughts from Sarah Decosimo Jones.Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09167510274682088919noreply@blogger.comBlogger963125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291821412067261535.post-73794151890772611192023-04-08T09:40:00.002-04:002023-04-08T09:40:53.824-04:00The Cross Road <p> I have found on this journey of grief that I am constantly coming to a cross road. Yesterday I went to the cemetery and found that the grave stone had not been placed because the rain had made the ground too muddy. This represented stone cold sorrow.</p><p>On the way home I found trillium growing by the side of the road. From the first year Steve and I met we would go on a treasure hunt in April looking for trillium. It was a treasure hunt because trillium grows in the woods. I’ve never seen it growing on the side of the road before. For me trillium represents living hope.</p><p>I’m writing this on Holy Saturday. It is the day between when we remember Jesus’ crucifixion and His resurrection. It is a day to sit with sorrow. A day when you don’t rush past the grave but instead pause long enough to acknowledge the pain of grief and reality of death. Grief and sorrow are part of the story.</p><p>This is the cross road where I find myself. Roads lead somewhere. I have to choose either to stay in the graveyard looking at stone cold sorrow or turn my gaze to the trillium that represents living hope.</p><p>I choose hope. I choose to believe that because of the resurrection one day in the future a trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised incorruptible, and we will be changed. I choose to believe that when this corruptible is clothed with incorruptibility, and this mortal is clothed with immortality, that death will also be swallowed up in victory.</p><p> Oh grave where is your victory? Oh death where is your sting? Today I sit with sorrow but sorrow is not my destination I choose the road that leads to a living hope!</p><p><img src="blob:https://www.blogger.com/0bf2482d-6cbb-4e34-9255-15c29d38315c" /><img src="blob:https://www.blogger.com/d829b991-cfa3-40e9-90d8-49963bdb0ab3" /></p>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09167510274682088919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291821412067261535.post-7986672664251863952022-11-28T10:51:00.005-05:002022-11-28T21:32:39.040-05:00Rejoicing in Hope<p> This will be my first Christmas since Steve’s death. It is a very tender time. I go out on my porch and watch the sun rise and listen to Handle’s Messiah. Grief allows me to listen with a depth I’ve never experienced before. </p><p><br /></p><p>As I rock back and forth I feel cradled by the love of God. I watch the darkness of night replaced as the morning star arises. Though my tears flow freely I feel the invitation to rejoice in hope.</p><p><br /></p><p>Etched into my memory are my last moments with Steve. Watching him take his final breath watching as the pulse in his neck slowly came to a stop. Releasing him to the hope of the resurrection.</p><p><br /></p><p>Today I was listening to Chuck Swindol and heard a prayer about when Jesus gave up His spirit in the cross. “Yes take him home my Father. Take the Prince to His King. Take the Son to His Father. Take the pilgrim home, He deserves a rest. Come 10,000 angels! Come take this wounded troubadour to the cradle of His Father’s arms! Farewell manger infant. Bless you Holy Ambassador. Go home death slayer. Rest well sweet soldier. The battle is over. Amen”</p><p><br /></p><p>To rejoice in hope is to live in the now and not yet. I will not be able to enter into the merriment of the holiday season but I will be able to celebrate the truth that the baby who was born in the manger will come again as the King who conquered death!</p>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09167510274682088919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291821412067261535.post-6722715185929919782022-10-13T12:27:00.000-04:002022-11-28T21:34:30.454-05:00<p> <i>Child of My love, fear not the unknown morrow,</i></p><p><i>Dread not the new demand life makes of thee;</i></p><p><i>Thine ignorance doth hold no cause for sorrow,</i></p><p><i>For what thou knowest not is known to Me.</i></p><p>I threw away Steve’s toothbrush. When the bag was placed in the dumpster I had an overwhelming urge to dig through the garbage until I could find his toothbrush and put it back where it belonged. People tell me that there is no wrong way to grieve. That may be true but nothing about this feels right. </p><p>Forty nine years ago I met Steve on a blind date. From that day on all my tomorrows included Steve. Now he’s gone. I found myself quoting a poem that I memorized when I was leaving home for the first time. I find in this poem a divine comfort knowing that what is unknown to me is known by my Heavenly Father.</p><p><br /></p>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09167510274682088919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291821412067261535.post-28450067904433618012022-06-04T13:55:00.001-04:002022-06-04T16:20:19.246-04:00Until Death Do We Part<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKXFvHhkJ5tImtNu7XUYo1q3Y1iuZTOCKXsb-HcD9nAm52nv3oIDsedF4GyDhxX_S6ir5odkbijAZ5MGby-cMgDwE3RHUkDkX64fP0EcUjNnMvJp6gCW2M5a7XszG5V2gbb3aBO4rqlLvJbvXzHFCqr0YciVqOQWH_gvKoMs1itnyj6L7RAUdAShZW/s4032/IMG_3491.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKXFvHhkJ5tImtNu7XUYo1q3Y1iuZTOCKXsb-HcD9nAm52nv3oIDsedF4GyDhxX_S6ir5odkbijAZ5MGby-cMgDwE3RHUkDkX64fP0EcUjNnMvJp6gCW2M5a7XszG5V2gbb3aBO4rqlLvJbvXzHFCqr0YciVqOQWH_gvKoMs1itnyj6L7RAUdAShZW/s320/IMG_3491.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br />“I Sarah, take you, Steve, to be my husband, and I promise and covenant, before God and these witnesses, to be your loving and faithful wife, I will live together with you in joy and in sorrow, in sickness and in health, until death do we part.” I was 21, Steve was 23 when we entered into this marriage covenant. On May 9,2022 our covenant ended when Steve’s heart stopped beating.<div><br /></div><div>I took a magic marker on our wedding trip. Steve had cancer and was taking radiation treatment. Every time we went swimming together I had to redraw the lines where he needed radiation. On our first anniversary he had competed his chemotherapy. I worked during the day and took care of him at night. The stress and lack of sleep caused me to have a nervous breakdown. He took care of me until I recovered. Our next anniversary was spent working at Yellowstone National Park. “I will together with you in sickness and in health.”</div><div><br /></div><div>Steve was with me for the birth of our four children. We shared the miracle of life, and I watched him as he tenderly held his children. We both wept as he dug the grave for Belle Marie here on the farm. I remember his words of comfort as we placed her little coffin in the ground. “Time doesn’t heal all wounds, but God will.” He comforted me during the loss of two more children. “I will live together with you in joy and in sorrow.”</div><div><br /></div><div>If the covenant I made so many years ago had only been with Steve, I don’t know if it would have survived. I failed him often. Our humanity and selfishness caused us to hurt each other in many ways. However this covenant was made with God as well. “The steps of a man are established by the Lord, when he delights in his way; though he fall, he shall not be cast headlong, for the Lord upholds his hand”(Psa 37:23-24)</div><div><br /></div><div>I promised to love, comfort, honor and keep Steve as my wedding husband until death parted us. Death has parted us and for the first time in 48 years I’ll be alone on June 8, our anniversary. Even though Steve won’t be here to celebrate with me I will still celebrate. I will celebrate the life we built together in covenant with God and each other.</div><div><br /></div>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09167510274682088919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291821412067261535.post-90142077718793011632021-06-18T07:55:00.000-04:002021-06-18T07:55:20.996-04:00When Your Cup is Empty<p>This has been a difficult year for me. The struggles I have face have exposed my many inadequacies. I didn’t realize how selfish I was until I was put in a situation where more was required of me than I was comfortable giving. </p><p>My cup is empty. How can I pour from an empty cup? I can’t. I am depleted. </p><p>I have come to the end of my resources so I take my empty cup and dip it into the Living Water. I have heard the invitation to come and drink. I drink until my soul is satisfied and then I dip my cup again into the water. Now I will have something to share.</p><p>Coming to the Living Water in order to fill my empty cup is my picture of being faithful in prayer.</p>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09167510274682088919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291821412067261535.post-57946360766744504532021-06-15T09:04:00.002-04:002021-06-15T09:04:17.667-04:00One Day At A Time<p> I woke up this morning with this poem on my mind. I wanted to share it because I thought perhaps it might encourage someone the way is has encouraged me.</p><p><a href="http://www.homemakerscorner.com/ajf-oneday.htm">http://www.homemakerscorner.com/ajf-oneday.htm</a></p><p><br /></p>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09167510274682088919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291821412067261535.post-54095894884770750132021-06-04T06:37:00.003-04:002021-06-04T07:05:38.932-04:00Encouraging Myself in the Lord <p>I have spent 4 years in the book of Revelation. At first I taught it not by reading commentaries but by looking at the visions John had until I could see them enough to draw them. Next, I decided that since in the first chapter there is a blessing promised to those who read these prophecies and take them to heart that I would memorize the book. I’ve been working on it for four years. I’m only on the eleventh chapter. </p><p><br /></p><p>The key to life that I found through my years in Revelation is this: God has chosen us to be part of a bigger story. The God who is and was and is to come is the author. Our lives can only be understood when we realize that we are part of a story being told. It is the story of LOVE and REDEMPTION. Joy is found when you trust the author to write your part of the story.</p><p><br /></p><p>The morning of Steve’s surgery I woke up to the words, “ I am the One who goes before you. I will never leave you or forsake you. Do not be afraid or discouraged.” God gave me the grace to not be afraid.</p><p><br /></p><p>“Do not be afraid or discouraged.” This week I have been struggling not to be discouraged. I’ll be honest. It would be so easy to be slide into depression. I wake up every morning and I encourage myself in the Lord. I offer to Him the sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving. I anchor my soul in truth.</p><p><br /></p><p>I’m on a path that I would not have chosen, but I trust my Shepherd. My eyes are regularly bathed by tears. Steve and I pray together daily that our lives will magnify the One who is both the author and the finisher of our faith.</p>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09167510274682088919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291821412067261535.post-65929208996470827562021-05-07T09:17:00.002-04:002021-05-07T09:30:47.533-04:00Waiting <p> “I wait for the Lord, my whole being waits, and in his word I put my hope.” Psalm 130:5</p><p><br /></p><p>I am in a season of waiting, and it goes against my nature. I’ve always liked to be busy, making goals and planning how to accomplish those goals. But now, I sit by Steve’s bedside waiting. It is clear that I am not in control of what is happening all around me, and so I wait.</p><p><br /></p><p>What does it mean to wait for the Lord? The Hebrew word quvah used in this verse carries with it the picture of a cord being twisted and stretched. It’s a picture of a cord that is made strong by the tension it endures.</p><p><br /></p><p>“My whole being waits.” It looks like I’m not doing anything as I sit by my husband's bed day after day, but looks are deceptive. My whole being waits as I look not only through the lens of the temporal but through the eyes of the eternal truths that I believe. It is a test of endurance.</p><p><br /></p><p>For many years now I have been writing a blog called “The Ministry of Hope.” What is hope? Hope is the confident expectation of good. Hope is believing that God is good and that you can trust Him. “I wait for the Lord, my whole being waits, and in his word I put my hope.”</p>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09167510274682088919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291821412067261535.post-77058938145437043342021-04-26T08:02:00.002-04:002021-04-26T08:09:01.924-04:00Lazarus Come Forth<p>Last week I was praying that Steve would live long enough to have the brain surgery that was scheduled for the next day. I watched all day as he seemed to be slipping into a coma. I prayed as I entrusted him to the Ancient of Days, knowing that all his days had been written in God’s book before any of them had come to be.</p><p>Steve went into surgery Monday morning, but it wasn’t until 2 am Tuesday that we received word that the surgery was over. He has been in the ICU all week. The doctors have been watching closely to see if he has had a stroke. The first day I was excited to see his eyes flicker open for a moment. By Saturday he was beginning to talk, though he is very confused.</p><p>The morning of surgery I woke with these words in my mind, “I Am the One goes before you. I will never leave you or forsake you. Do not be afraid or discouraged.” I hear these words in my heart every day as I sit beside Steve. Every day I remind him of how good God has been to us. I rehearsed the blessings we’ve shared for 48 years of loving God and each other. They are our Ebenezer Stones, our stones of remembrance. I’m using them to build an altar where we can offer a sacrifice of praise to Jesus.</p><p>I think about when we were leaving the hospital to fly home so that Steve could die surrounded by his family. Suddenly, I was stopped by the doctor because they thought at last they knew what was happening. Today the memory makes me smile because I see Steve like a Lazarus whom Jesus called back from the dead.</p><p>After Jesus call Lazarus back from the dead He told those around him to remove the grave cloths and set him free. That’s what this time with Steve in the ICU is like, a time to remove grave cloths. Resurrection and the removal of grave cloths, set free to fulfill God’s purpose in our generation!</p>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09167510274682088919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291821412067261535.post-3959212407992642702021-04-03T12:41:00.003-04:002021-04-03T12:52:12.737-04:00Holy Saturday <p> “What’s today?” “Today is Holy Saturday.” “What is Holy Saturday?”</p><p>My grandson Ricky and I were at the breakfast table having this conversation. I told him that Holy Saturday was a day to sit with sorrow and unanswered questions. We talked about how Jesus’ friend had all scattered when the soldiers came to take Jesus away. I told him how they thought that Jesus was going to set up His kingdom, but instead Jesus was hung on a cross.</p><p>We talked about the disappointment, fear and grief that Jesus’ friend had on the Saturday between when Jesus died and when He rose from the dead. I told him that all the pain they felt on Saturday was part of the story.</p><p>The tears were silently sliding down his cheeks. Ricky’s father died this summer, and now he was having to say goodbye to a grandfather that he loved even though he’s only known him for a short time. My daughter Elisabeth adopted Ricky two years ago, and he joined our family with disappointments, fears and sorrow that I know nothing about.</p><p>The first time that I ever met Ricky I showed him my drawings from the book of Revelation. We talked about the mystery of two Kingdoms that were at war. I told Ricky that though the battle was fierce, at the end of time there would be only one kingdom and only one king standing.</p><p>But today is Holy Saturday. Today we sit with the sorrow of what we don’t understand. Today we acknowledge our failures and our fears. I told Ricky that it’s ok to cry, because God see your tears and He knows your pain. I told him that his lack of ability to understand what God is doing wouldn’t keep God from carrying out His good plan. Tomorrow we will celebrate what Jesus’ grieving friends couldn’t comprehend. </p><p>Today is Holy Saturday, and I am safe because what is unknown to me is known to Jesus.</p>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09167510274682088919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291821412067261535.post-10525610110288537062021-04-02T12:26:00.007-04:002021-04-02T12:43:34.070-04:00Blessings and Comfort <p><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17.41pt; text-size-adjust: auto;">As I walk through this time with Steve I am experiencing the humbling effects of grief. Our lives have been intertwined for so many years, and I am intensely aware of our humanity as we walk together through this valley where death is casting its shadow. But even here I am aware of the kingdom blessings that Jesus promised.</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17.4px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 20.8px; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17.41pt;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17.4px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17.41pt;">When Jesus spoke about the kingdom of heaven He used the word makarius, blessed, a word that in Ancient Greek times referred to the gods. *They had achieved a state of happiness and contentment in life that was beyond all cares, labor, and even death. The blessed ones were beings that lived in some other world away from the care and worries and problems of ordinary people.* Jesus took the blessing that had been used for Greek gods and conferred it on those who had poverty of spirit. “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 5:3).</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17.4px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 20.8px; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17.41pt;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17.4px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17.41pt;">Nothing has exposed my helplessness and my humanity quite like the knowledge that my soulmate will soon be gone. My friend Brenda Shutters expressed the loss of her husband this way. “The pain that I felt was like a tearing away of part of my life.” Even in the midst of sorrow I hear Jesus’ invitation to reject the lie spoken at the dawn of time that I can be like God. I recognize that the blessing of His kingdom isn’t for those who have “achieved a state of happiness and contentment in life that is beyond all cares, labors, and even death.” The blessings of the kingdom of heaven are for those who recognize their humanity and their great need, and embrace the fullness of God’s love. </span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17.4px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 20.8px; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17.41pt;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17.4px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17.41pt;">During this season of grief I find myself wanting to shield myself against the vulnerability that comes with grief. There is the fear of being sucked into a vortex of lament that I can’t escape. There is a part of me that wants to hide for fear that the grief I’m facing will take possession of me. But Jesus invites me into my human vulnerability and He meets me there with these words, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted” (Matthew 5:4).</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17.4px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 20.8px; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17.41pt;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17.4px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17.41pt;">How is it that Jesus Christ could extend this kingdom blessing and heavenly comfort to us? I believe that it because, “He has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed Him smitten by God, and afflicted. But He was pierced for our transgressions; He was crushed for our iniquities; upon Him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed” (Isaiah 53:4,5). He who is God became flesh so that we who come to Him can know the blessings of the kingdom of heaven and the comfort of the one who has borne our grief and carried our sorrows.</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17.4px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 20.8px; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17.41pt;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17.4px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: ".SFUIText"; font-size: 17.41pt;">*The History of the Word “Makarius” by Brian Staffregn</span></p>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09167510274682088919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291821412067261535.post-83163796891043575202021-03-31T09:33:00.001-04:002021-03-31T09:41:05.316-04:00“I’m dying”<p>We had a wonderful day yesterday. Steve loves to be surrounded by the people that he loves, and if you know him you are probably included in that list. To each person who came to see him yesterday and asked, “How are you?” he gave the same quiet response, “I’m dying.”</p><p>Steve is grappling with the reality that he is dying. We all are. Every morning I go to Psalm 90 and I contemplate what it means to worship an eternal God when you are a transient human. “Before the mountains were born, before You gave birth to the earth and the world, from eternity to eternity, You are God” (Psalm 90:2) I reach for Steve and feel the warmth of his touch and my heart aches within me because I know that our lives are, “like yesterday that passes by, like a few hours of the night” (Psalm 90:4). I know that the day is fast approaching when I’ll reach for him and he’ll be gone.</p><p>“I’m dying.” Steve speaks these words as the truth of what it means to be a mortal man is being revealed to him. “You end their life; they sleep. They are like grass that grows in the morning it sprouts and grows; by evening it withers and dried up” (Psalm 90:5,6).</p><p>“We end our years like a sigh. Our years last seventy years or, if we are strong, eighty years. Even the best of them are struggle and sorrow; indeed, they pass quickly and we fly away” (Psalm 90:7-10). Steve turned seventy this year. We sit close together holding hands and reminiscing about the years we’ve spent together. Each of us is amazed at how fast the time has gone.</p><p>Recently a health care provider confronted Steve with the reality that he was dying. Then she asked, “Are you afraid?” He was quiet for a few moments then replied, “No, that’s been taken care of.” This is Holy Week. This is the week we celebrate the faithful love of God who gave His only begotten Son so that anyone who believes in Him might not perish but have eternal life. In Jesus Christ death was swallowed up in victory. Yes, Steve is dying, but death will not be the end. That was taken care of when Jesus conquered the grave.</p>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09167510274682088919noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291821412067261535.post-14031681818417337012021-03-30T09:18:00.009-04:002021-03-30T09:23:32.761-04:00The Storm Rages But The Anchor Holds<p>Looking back over the last few days I am amazed at how quickly things can change. Steve wanted to take me away for my birthday. He couldn’t decide if we should rent a cabin in the mountains or take our little camper and go to the beach. Before he could make up his mind he was in the hospital.</p><p>We had anticipated being together and watching the sun set over the mountains, or perhaps watching the sun rise and cast its light on the waters. The last week of February had begun with questions about where to celebrate a birthday. That same week ended with my calling my son in Lithuania and telling him to come home because we didn’t know how long his father had to live.</p><p>During this month we have been in and out of the hospital, without answers but with the understanding that something terribly wrong was happening. This morning I was looking through the pages where I record my days. On Monday of one week I found the hopeful entry that a well-respected doctor had told me that at last we would get to the bottom of this mystery. On Friday of that same week I was told that Steve only had a short time to live.</p><p>At first I felt that one doctor had given me hope and the next doctor had taken it away. Then I paused, took a deep breath and remembered the first time that I had begun to understand hope. It was at a funeral. The preacher said, “ Hope is a confident expectation of good. Hope is based on the Person and promises God.”</p><p>My hope isn’t something that circumstances can give or take away, otherwise I would be at the mercy of the storm that we are in right now. Instead, my hope is an anchor that grips a solid rock. The storm is raging all around me. Life is changing so fast that sometimes it’s hard to breath. But I’m not at the mercies of the storm, and my confidence is in an Almighty God.</p>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09167510274682088919noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291821412067261535.post-61943867383862495822021-03-29T12:08:00.004-04:002021-03-29T12:14:48.906-04:00Hallways<p>We took Steve to the emergency room unsure if they would keep him or send him home. Faith, Elisabeth and I had all gone with him. Because of COVID restrictions, only one person could be with him in the hospital. I asked Faith to be that person while Elisabeth stayed with me in the car waiting. By 3 am I was exhausted and asked if Elisabeth would take me home. When I woke in the morning I looked for Steve but found a note instead, “Mom, Dad’s okay, but they wanted to admit him for observation.” I inhaled deeply, got dressed, and drove to the hospital.</p><p>The room was dimly lit by the light streaming in from the window. Faith filled me in on what had been happening during the night. She told me about the tests that had been done and those that had been scheduled. Then we traded places. She went home, and I took my place beside the hospital bed. Steve slept. He didn’t wake to eat or drink.</p><p>The neurologist came to check on him and then asked if I would come out into the hallway where we could talk. She paused for a moment and then said, “I want you to know that this is very serious.” She paused again and said, “This is very serious, but we don’t know what it is.” As I stood there trying to absorb the impact of her words, her phone rang. An expression of pain crossed her face and she said, “I’m so sorry. Someone has had a stroke in the ER and I have to go.” I was alone in the hallway with her ominous words echoing in my mind. </p><p>Hallways are not a destination. When you are in a hallway you are in between where you’ve been and where you’re going. Standing in the hospital hallway alone with the words of the neurologist ringing in my ear, I began to realize that Steve's and my life together was entering into a transition.</p><p>Slowly I began to see the different doors in the passageway. Steve and I were about to enter a hallway that would take us in different directions. As my eyes began to sting with tears, in my heart I heard these comforting word, “Blessed are those whose strength is in you, whose hearts are set on pilgrimage. As they pass through the Valley of Weeping, they make it a place of springs; the autumn rains also cover it with pools. They go from strength to strength, till each appears before God in Zion” (Psalm 84:5-7). For 48 years Steve and I have been on this pilgrimage together. It appears that for a time we will be separated, but just as hallways lead from one place to another, so do pilgrimages.</p><p><br /></p>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09167510274682088919noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291821412067261535.post-24127099849271768862021-03-28T09:42:00.001-04:002021-03-28T09:59:12.879-04:00Learning to Measure Time <p>How do you measure time?</p><p>I remember waiting for the day that I would marry Steve. Each day seemed that it would last forever. Every night I would kiss his picture and put the picture frame under my pillow so that I could dream of the days to come. Finally, the day came and we made our vows to God that we would love each other in sickness and health, in poverty and with wealth. We vowed to love each other until death would part us.</p><p>He took my hand, looked into my eyes and whispered, “I love you Mrs. Jones.” Time stood still. I thought my heart would melt. We walked down the aisle hand in hand. </p><p>Some years went by slowly, some went by so fast that they took my breath away. But he was always beside me holding my hand. Sometimes we fought, sometimes we laughed, sometimes we cried because that’s how it is when you choose to love.</p><p>I have loved Steve for 48 years. Our time together now feels like a calendar that was left out in a windstorm. The wind seems to be blowing so hard that it’s causing time to blur and move to fast. I want to savor each moment, and to simply stare into the face that I have loved for so long.</p><p>I want time to stop, but I know an eternal truth. “As for man, his days are like grass—he blooms like a flower of the field; when the wind passes over it, it vanishes, and its place is no longer known. But from eternity to eternity the Lord’s faithful love is toward those who fear Him, and His righteousness toward the grandchildren of those who keep His covenant, who remember to observe His instruction” (Psalm 103:15-18). Too soon the day will come when Steve will not be there to hold my hand. </p><p>I am learning to measure time through the lens of eternity.</p>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09167510274682088919noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291821412067261535.post-18381780911691331672021-01-17T07:51:00.001-05:002021-01-17T08:20:54.894-05:00Cure for the Homesick Soul <p>Once when I was on a small boat I began to experience motion sickness. The owner of the boat recognized my distress and advised me to fix my gaze on the shore. Keeping my eyes on something that was stable helped to ease my discomfort. During these turbulent times I find that I need to focus my mind on eternal, unchanging truth.</p><p>I find myself feeling off balance as day after day I encounter the storm of news. I am desperate for a frame of reference. Rather than the motion sickness that I felt on the small boat, my soul feels homesick. As the dark clouds gather, blinding my vision, I use the words of the Psalmist to express my longing. “How lovely is your dwelling place, Lord Almighty! My soul yearns, even faints, for the courts of the Lord; my heart and my flesh cry out for the living God” (Psalm 84:1,2)</p><p>I think the prophet Daniel had a homesick soul. As a youth he had been taken captive and brought to Babylon. He lived through stormy, uncertain times, and yet he was known for his wisdom. The kings who ruled over him sought out his counsel. How did he keep his equilibrium? Three times a day Daniel got down on his knees and with his windows opened toward Jerusalem he prayed, giving thanks to his God. He never forgot his true citizenship. He anchored his soul with prayers of thanksgiving to an unchanging God.</p><p>Like Daniel the storms we face are real. There can be a feeling of helplessness when it seems that there is nothing stable beneath our feet. In times like this if you are relying on your own strength your heart will be filled with anxiety. But if your heart and mind are set on pilgrimage you can know a deep and settled joy. During these turbulent times I rely on a strength that is not my own as I fix my gaze on the kingdom of God where I have my true citizenship.</p><p>“One thing I ask from the Lord, this only do I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to gaze on the beauty of the Lord and to seek him in his temple. For in the day of trouble he will keep me safe in his dwelling; he will hide me in the shelter of his sacred tent and set me high upon a rock” (Psalm 27:4,5). </p><p>My soul is homesick for the day when faith becomes sight, but until then I will, like Daniel, find my security on bended knees praying with thanksgiving to my Heavenly Father. He is the Lord of the storm and my soul is anchored in His promises.</p>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09167510274682088919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291821412067261535.post-45640066426167743592021-01-13T14:39:00.006-05:002021-01-13T14:53:08.787-05:00Good News!<p>During this time when the news is full of political upheaval and unrest I find myself longing for the good news that Jesus preached. Jesus preached the good news of the kingdom. *The Greek word for kingdom is basileia. It comes from the word which means king. A kingdom always requires a king.* The good news that Jesus preached was that “the kingdom of heaven has come near” (Matthew 4:17)! The kingdom was near because the king had come.</p><p>Jesus came not only with the proclamation of the kingdom, but He came with the power to heal. The kingdom of God is not the only kingdom that exists in the universe, there is another kingdom—the kingdom of Satan. **The Bible shows us that in ages past there was just one kingdom, the kingdom of God. But, through the rebellion of an angel named Lucifer (now known as Satan), another kingdom was established over which the Prince of Darkness rules.** Jesus came not only with the power to establish His kingdom, but also with the power to heal the suffering caused by the Prince of Darkness.</p><p>“The people who live in darkness have seen a great light, and for those living in the shadow of death, light has dawned” (Matthew 4:16). The light of the world had come at last to break the curse, to proclaim liberty to the captives, to give sight to those who had been blinded by the darkness. Jesus had come at last to set at liberty those who are oppressed.</p><p>“Repent, because the kingdom of heaven has come near” (Matthew 4:17)! When Jesus came, those who lived in darkness were presented with a choice. Those who had been slaves to the kingdom of Satan could at last find liberation. Jesus had come to break the curse of death and bring life. But in order to enter the kingdom of heaven there needed to be repentance. </p><p>Repentance means to change. Jesus preached that the kingdom of heaven had come near, but He began by saying, “repent.” The good news is that the kingdom of heaven has come near. What is our response to the good news? No one can serve two kings. </p><p>*HELPS Word-studies</p><p>**Selwyn Hughes</p>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09167510274682088919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291821412067261535.post-43650816749656860472020-11-10T13:35:00.001-05:002020-11-10T13:40:35.546-05:00Imperfect Prayers to a Perfect God<p> Sometimes I find that in order to believe I have to first stop and confess my unbelief.</p><p>What exposes my unbelief? It is the depression that is caused by my inability to protect the people that I love. I come to God overwhelmed because of my inadequacy. I am face to face once more with the lie that I have believed, that I can be my own God and that I have the power to save myself or anyone else who is trapped by sin.</p><p>I have enough faith to pray, but at the same time my eyes are filled with the struggle before me. I am blinded by my unbelief and I stumbled and fall before the throne of Him to whom I bring my petition. If the answer to my prayers were dependent on my faith, I would be hopeless. I have come, but before I can voice my prayer I must first confess my disbelief.</p><p>My prayer is not pretty, it is not well crafted, it is poured out in tears and inarticulate groans. It isn’t because of my faith that my prayers are heard, it is because of the Lord’s faithful love. Even though at times my ears are deaf to the truth of His steadfast love, His ears are never deaf to my plea for mercy. I discover again what I have found to be true so many times before: His mercy never comes to an end. His faithfulness doesn’t depend on my ability to believe. His love is steadfast and unfailing.</p><p>When my storm of tears and pleas have quieted, I wait. My heart is still heavy, the situation has not changed, but in the silence I find rest for my soul. I know that I have been heard. Quieted by His love I am aware of His outstretched hand. He raises me to my feet and I stand. My faith has been restored and I remember that, though I cannot save the ones I love, He can.</p>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09167510274682088919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291821412067261535.post-59260209940666527882020-10-19T10:19:00.001-04:002020-10-19T10:27:41.921-04:00When You’re Coming Apart at the Seams<p>The Greek word for anxiety is <i>merimna. </i>HELPS Word-studies describes it this way, a part separated from the whole; (figuratively) worry (anxiety), dividing and fracturing a person’s being into parts. Perhaps you’ve experienced the sensation of becoming emotionally disintegrated. There are times when the pressures of life make you feel like you are coming apart at the seams. What do you do?</p><p>My daughter gave birth to twins two weeks ago. Because they were premature, they had to stay in the NICU. Abigail was able to come home, but because she developed postpartum preeclampsia we ended up making two emergency trips to the hospital. The last time we went they did a CT scan to check and see if there was any bleeding in her brain. When I wasn’t with her in the hospital I was helping to take care of her two special needs little boys. The twins are home, my daughter is doing well, and the little boys are thrilled with their tiny baby sisters. However, there can still be opportunities to feel anxious.</p><p>When we exhaust our store of endurance we are invited to cast our cares on a God who cares about us. When our strength fails God invites us to enter into His rest. There is a name for this exchange. It is called humility. True humility happens when we are fully dependent on the Lord. “Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you” (1 Peter 5:6,7).</p><p>When I feel like I'm falling apart I remind myself that I have an invitation to find refuge in the shelter of the Most High God. When I am overwhelmed I find my resting place in the shadow of the Almighty. When I finally stop trying to be in control I find peace for my soul. I cast my anxiety on Him and find that He has covered me with His feathers and that refuge is found under His wings. Fear cannot follow me into this place of humble trust.</p><p>The stresses of this life expose our frailty. How we respond to those stresses exposes what we believe. However, when we respond with humility and choose to fully trust God we find that He is worthy of our trust. “We may trust Him fully, all for us to do, They who trust Him wholly find Him wholly true.”</p><p>*Like A River Glorious </p>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09167510274682088919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291821412067261535.post-2885448982928120892020-10-10T08:45:00.003-04:002020-10-10T09:21:59.216-04:00At the Golden Altar <p>There is a place where the divine world and the human world come together. It is a place of exchange and communication. I have been invited to come to this place with boldness, and so I come. I come boldly, but I also come aware of my weakness and my need. With a humble but hopeful heart I approach the golden altar that stands before the throne of God.</p><p>Altars represent places of sacrifice. What is it that I bring to this sacred place? I bring my need, my brokenness and my confusion. My heart full of concern for those I love, my mind flooded with circumstances over which I have no control. These are the sacrifices I bring on bended knee but with a heart lifted to the Sovereign who is seated on the throne.</p><p>There are times when the sacrifices that my heart bears are so heavy that tears replace words. But in this sacred place I encounter Love that can translate my inarticulate plea. I find someone who advocates for me before the throne of grace. Here, at the golden altar, the cry of my heart is transformed into incense that is pleasing to God.</p><p>At the golden altar the darkness within me is bathed with light. It is here that grief is replaced with comfort, and fear and helplessness with His presence and peace. The welcome that I find does not cease, because access has been gained for me by the blood of the Lamb who stands before the throne.</p><p>This golden altar is a place of exchange and communication; not only a place where I am heard and known, but a place where I come to listen. It is here that I find that the Almighty God who is seated on the throne is One who wants and waits to be known. You cannot come into the presence of this holy One and stay the same. My plea and my prayers go up from this altar as a pleasing fragrance, and in exchange I receive mercy and grace to help me in my time of need.</p>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09167510274682088919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291821412067261535.post-86772996392078773672020-10-05T11:27:00.001-04:002020-10-05T11:55:12.640-04:00Where Is Your Focus?<p>It’s hard not to be constantly checking the news. There is so much going on. However, if your only perspective is what you hear, and it really doesn’t matter which news group you listen to, you’re bound to feel anxious. I have found a cure. It is a change of focus.</p><p>“Do you not know? Have you not heard? Has it not been declared do you from the beginning? Have you not considered the foundation of the earth? God is enthroned above the circle of the earth...” (Isaiah 40:21,22) When our mind is focused only on the things happening around us we become unbalanced. We become like people who are tossed about by the waves of an angry sea.</p><p>The chapter in Isaiah that begins with the words, “Comfort, comfort My people,” asked the question for a second time. “Do you not know? Have you not heard” (Isaiah 40:28)? What was it that they should have known? What was it that they should have heard? “Yahweh is the everlasting God, the creator of the whole earth. He never grows faint or weary; there is no limit to His understanding. He gives strength to the weary and strengthens the powerless. Youths may faint and grow weary, and young men stumble and fall, but those who trust in the Lord will renew their strength; they will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary; they will walk and not faint” (Isaiah 40:28-31).</p><p>When our view of God becomes limited we begin to see ourselves as victims of chance. When we cease to know that God is almighty and that the Lord God comes with strength, and that His power establishes His rule we lose sight of truth. When our view of God is small our souls shrink and we become fearful. To have a proper view of God is to have a proper context in which to place all that is happening around us.</p><p>*“We become like the things we focus on. If we center on man rather than God, then we ought not be surprised in we finish up off center—eccentric.”</p><p>*Selwyn Hughes</p>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09167510274682088919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291821412067261535.post-47125362600814935732020-09-19T10:20:00.002-04:002020-09-19T14:35:31.897-04:00Come With Me on a Spiritual Journey <p>There is a chill in the air and dusk seems to be coming a little earlier every day. Autumn is a transitional season that links summer to winter. For me it’s a season of reflection. In my journey through the Bible September takes me through Job, Ecclesiastes and then into the Song of Songs. These are not books that are easy to understand. As I have read through them I’ve been thinking about how they reflect my own spiritual journey.</p><p>As a young child I would enter into the reverential silence of the sanctuary. There was the lingering fragrance of frankincense and myrrh, the flickering of the candles, and the chanting in Latin from the balcony behind me. My eyes would seek out the candle that I had been told was a symbol of God’s presence. I genuflected and took my seat. As a little girl I was introduced to the holiness of God.</p><p>My Grandmother lived close by, and often I would spend the night with her. At bedtime she would invite me to snuggle close beside her. I listened as she read aloud long portions from the book of Isaiah. I could feel a stirring in my soul even though I had no understanding of the poetry of the words. I would stand at the doorway in the morning waiting as she knelt by her bed, her long grey braid falling between her shoulders. I would listen as she blanketed those she loved in prayer. I traveled in prayer with her as she prayed for my aunt who lived as a missionary on the Amazon River. I learned that though God was holy I could learn to hear His voice, and that He was listening for my voice as well.</p><p>As a child I was taught that Jesus loved me. This was symbolized for me by a picture of Jesus sitting on the grass surrounded by children. In the picture there was a little girl with her head on Jesus’s lap. I believed that that little girl was me. Every night I would pretend that my pillow was His lap. In childlike trust I would rest my head there. As the night shadows gathered I would rest in His tender love and care.</p><p>This was how my journey began, with simple childlike faith. But it is a journey, and that is what I see represented in the books of Job, Ecclesiastes and the Song of Songs. There has been light, and there has been darkness; there have been times when I have felt a deep intimacy with God, and there have been times that I wondered if He existed at all; there have been times when I have wept with the knowledge of His kindness, and there have been times when I wondered if He was cruel. I would like to invite you to join me as I reflect on my spiritual journey.</p>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09167510274682088919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291821412067261535.post-90918052757671888062020-09-12T08:59:00.001-04:002020-09-12T10:43:06.520-04:00Confronting the Challenges We Face<p>The value of filling your mind with the grandeur of God is that everything else finds its proper place. I was thinking about this when I read the story of King Asa in 2 Chronicles 14-16. Asa found himself in a battle where he was completely outnumbered. If he had only responded to the threatening situation based on what he could see, he would have been defeated even before he went to battle. Instead, Asa reacted by crying out to the Lord: “Lord, there is no one besides You to help the mighty and those without strength. Help us, Lord our God, for we depend on You, and in Your name we have come against this multitude. Lord, You are our God. Do not let a mere mortal hinder You” (2 Chronicles 14:11).</p><p>Asa didn’t focus on the strength of his enemies, he focused on the strength of his God. God showed up and fought the battle and gave Asa a mighty victory. The Spirit of God spoke through a prophet to Asa and told him: “The Lord is with you when you are with Him. If you seek Him, He will be found by you, but if you abandoned Him, He will abandon you” (2 Chronicles 15:2). These words encouraged Asa and he began to remove all the idols from the land and to separate himself from influences that would separate him from God.</p><p>Asa enjoyed the blessing of peace that came when he trusted God. However, when Israel’s King Baasha went to war against him, he went into the Lord’s temple for something other than prayer. This time he went into the temple and brought out the silver and gold from the treasuries of the Lord to make a treaty with Aram’s King Ben-hadad. He was no longer seeking help from God; instead, his focus was on human help.</p><p>God again spoke to Asa through a prophet. This time He rebuked Asa for depending on a human king and not on the Lord his God. He reminded him of his past victory and how, when he had depended on the Lord, the Lord had given him victory. Then the prophet said, “For the eyes of the Lord range throughout the earth to show Himself strong for those whose hearts are completely His” (2 Chronicles 16:9). However, Asa’s mind was no longer filled with the grandeur of God and everything had lost its proper place.</p><p>The story of King Asa is not just a history lesson. “All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness” (2 Timothy 3:16). We are living in a time of great difficulty. We are being confronted with the challenges that are very much like the challenges of King Asa. I believe that how we respond will be determined by how we see our God.</p>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09167510274682088919noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291821412067261535.post-78932461769876376122020-09-11T09:03:00.001-04:002020-09-11T09:22:46.370-04:00The Source of True Strength <p>I was visiting with my daughter Abigail who is expecting twins. She has already been “blessed” with two special needs little boys. Life can be hard; life can be difficult; and sometimes the unknown is terrifying. As we visited, I shared with Abigail what I have found to be the source of strength in difficult times.</p><p>I have discovered this reservoir again and again, not when life was going as I thought it should, but when I was confronted with challenges that felt insurmountable. That was when I discovered the truth of the hymn by Annie J. Flint that says: He giveth more grace when the burdens grow greater, He sendeth more strength when the labors increase; to added affliction He added His mercy, to multiplied trials His multiplied peace.</p><p>The name of this hymn is “He Giveth More Grace.” I shared with Abigail the different chapters in my life where I experienced the sweet place of surrender. “When we have exhausted our store of endurance, when our strength has failed ere the day is half done, when we reach the end of our hoarded resources, our Father’s full giving is only begun.”</p><p>The book of James tells us to, “Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness.” What is joy? Joy is produced when you become aware that even the greatest trial cannot exceed the provisions or the resources God has for us. The more we experience His limitless love the more steadfast we become in our faith.</p><p>What is the source of true strength? I believe that true strength comes when the hardships of this life cause us to become sure of what we hope for, because we have encountered the limitless provisions of a loving God. When we lean hard on the everlasting arms we find that His power has no boundaries. The byproduct of this kind of strength is both joy and peace.</p>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09167510274682088919noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2291821412067261535.post-52033581405287442252020-09-09T08:45:00.002-04:002020-09-09T08:56:57.393-04:00A Sacred Mystery <p>Every year I step into a sacred mystery that began in the courts of heaven when Satan asked God’s permission to test Job. I see the loss and grief that God allowed Job to suffer, and then I listen as Job’s friends attempt to defend God by heaping guilt on Job. I read aloud each argument as these men try to explain God. I begin again to see the holiness of God. </p><p>Isaiah opens our ears to the voice of God, and we can hear Him explaining His holiness this way, “‘For My thoughts are not your thoughts, and your ways are not My ways.’ This is the Lord’s declaration. ‘For as heaven is higher than earth, so My ways are higher than your ways and My thoughts than your thoughts’” (Isaiah 55:8). Part of this sacred mystery is not only the holiness of God, but the invitation to know Him.</p><p>When I was a child I felt like I knew and understood God. He was my friend. When I was a teenager I went through a very difficult time that shook my world. I could not fathom why He would allow me to go through such a confusing time. It was the first time that I began to recognize the holiness of God. It was a humbling experience. I was confronted with the choice of walking away or pursuing a sacred mystery.</p><p>With a trembling heart I chose to accept the invitation to, “Seek the Lord while He may be found; call on Him while He is near” (Isaiah 55:6). It was during this time in my life that I began to understand what it meant to fear the Lord. In the Scriptures whenever the temporal is intersected by the eternal it brings with it a sense of awe. To come into the presence of a Holy God with a heart of awe and wonder is to begin to find wisdom.</p><p>I have found that the longer I live the more aware I am of the sacred mystery of God. Through the pages of Scripture I am invited with the angels to see God seated on His throne and to listen to what they never stop saying day and night: “Holy, holy, holy, Lord God, the Almighty, who was, who is, and who is coming” (Revelation 4:8). Like Job, I will never truly be able to understand or explain a holy God, but like Job I can declare, “I know that my Redeemer lives, and at the last He will stand upon the earth” (Job 19:25). Until that day, I am content to, by faith, live my life in sacred mystery.</p>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09167510274682088919noreply@blogger.com0