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Archive for April, 2018

 

There are those who would say the sweetest time of life is childhood, when we carry few responsibilities and enjoy hours of play.

Others will say the teen years are best, when the freedoms to go, do, and become are gloriously opened before us.

Ah, but then come the years of building a career and perhaps raising a family. Maybe that’s the sweetest time, as we pursue success in our vocations and witness the achievements of our children—from first steps to last graduation and beyond.

As a retiree of almost seven years, I would chime in with Vance Havner who said:

“The last chapter of life can be the best.”

 

 

Yes, aging has its downside. The person we see in the mirror has changed drastically. Joints refuse to bend and twist like they used to. And though we wish our waists would thin out, it’s our skin that has.

But that’s just the outside—the least important part of who we are.

The golden years offer much sweetness to savor. If you’re not there yet, here’s what you have to look forward to:

  1. The gift of memory

The older we get the more memories we have to enjoy. And just about everything reminds us of something else. ‘Ever try reading street signs and billboards to see if the names conjure up people or places from the past? It’s a game guaranteed to make you smile.

Cindy Lane reminds me of a dear friend in Florida (Hi, Cindy!), Barbara Circle conjures up a valued colleague from my teaching days, and Harrison Avenue takes me back to my childhood, riding my bike on the street of the same name in my small hometown.

Shared memories are even more delightful. Not long ago in church, the pastor asked if we could remember a time when low expectations generated poor output. Steve and I made eye contact and simultaneously whispered the name of a union-controlled company he worked for years ago.   We almost laughed out loud amidst the silent congregation. Such fun.

 

 

  1. The wisdom of experience

Experience with God teaches us the wisdom of his perfect ways (Psalm 18:30). Life is enhanced when faith, kindness, and gratitude characterize our days–just as he’s said.

Occasionally our wisdom-from-experience may be sought by others. But actions speak louder than words. To live wisely and make prudent choices—that’s the best way to impart wisdom. They’ll remember what we did better than what we said.

 

  1. The expansion of certain abilities

Research indicates that as we get older our abilities to reflect, create, and analyze can actually improve. The reason may be “we bring experience to knowledge and then add wisdom to our result.” Of course, we must continue to “cultivate our mental acuity as we age”.*  We must never stop learning, evaluating, and thinking about new ideas.

 

 

  1. The time to be present in the moment

We can savor such luxuries as watching raindrops make momentary rings in puddles and checking for signs of burgeoning spring that were not noticeable yesterday.

Now we have more time to express our gratitude for every good gift God bestows. And since gratitude begets joy and contentment, we can make these years a season of delight.

We also have more time to stop and listen—to the frustrated store clerk, the struggling waitress, the overwhelmed young parent. At our disposal are the benefits just listed–the gift of memory, the wisdom of experience, the enhanced abilities of reflection and evaluation—all useful for offering beneficial (but brief!) encouragement.

And as we lighten the burden of others we find our own spirits uplifted.

 

 

  1. The faith to persevere 

We’ve lived long enough to see God bring us through sadness, difficulty, distress, and more. We know he will provide for every need to the end. And such confidence overflows in perfect peace.

__________________________________

 

For these reasons and more, our latter years can be the sweetest time of life.

 

(http://quotefacy.com/quote/758763)

 

“For age is opportunity no less

Than youth itself, though in another dress,

And as the evening twilight fades away

The sky is filled with stars, invisible by day.”

–Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

 

In that we can rejoice!

 

*Joan Chittister, The Gift of Years, p. 96.

 

(Art & photo credits:  http://www.pxhere.com; http://www.afgsc.af.mil; http://www.Canva.com; http://www.pixabay.com; http://www.flickr.com; http://www.quotefancy.com.)

 

 

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From the time Darlene McIntosh was ten years old, she knew God wanted her serve him on the mission field.

By age twenty-two, Darlene was newly married to pioneer missionary Russell Deibler, and settled in the jungle of New Guinea where he had built a two-room home for her out of woven bamboo mats.

 

 

Russell and Darlene proceeded to build relationships with members of a nearby primitive tribe, the Kapauku, who had never heard of Jesus. She fell in love with the people, the work, and her surroundings.

On her twenty-third birthday in May of 1940, the couple heard that the Nazis had invaded Holland. It didn’t take long for the war to find them, even in their remote location. The Deiblers and other missionaries could have escaped to safety but chose to stay at their mission compound.

In January of 1942 the Japanese came and took the men captive. Russell’s last words to Darlene were: “Remember one thing, dear: God said that He would never leave us nor forsake us.” That was the last time she saw Russell; he would die in the prison camp.

 

 

For a short while, the women and one older man continued to live at the mission.

One night Darlene heard scuffling noises in the house. She got up from her bed and encountered a bandit armed with a knife.

Darlene surprised herself by rushing at him. Even more surprising, the bandit turned and fled; Darlene chased him out of the house. Suddenly a gang of bandits ran out of the jungle to join the first. She expected them to attack her. Instead the first bandit yelled to the others, and they all turned and ran.

From then on, the missionaries kept clubs at the feet of their beds, but they never had to use them.

Darlene always suspected the compound gardener had been the bandit, because he was familiar with the house. After the war, Darlene asked him why he had never tried to steal from the missionaries again.

“It was because of all those people you had there–” he replied.  “Those people in white who stood about the house!”

 

 

In May of 1943, Darlene and the other remaining missionaries were taken to a prison camp in Kampili. Commander Yamaji, a man with a mercurial temper, required strenuous work quotas of the six hundred women living there, including killing flies.

The flies bothered the pigs, raised at the camp to feed Japanese soldiers. Each prisoner was required to bring Commander Yamaji 100 dead flies every day (That’s 60,000 flies!)—even while completing numerous other tasks.

Darlene prayed for Commander Yamaji and was able to tell him about Jesus. “He died for you,” she told him. “Maybe that’s why God brought me here, to tell you he loves you.” The commander suddenly left his office with tears on his cheeks.

 

 

In May of 1944, the Japanese secret police came to escort Darlene to another prison. She was put in solitary confinement, falsely accused of espionage.

Darlene endured nightly mosquito swarms, near-starvation, malaria and other serious illnesses, inhumane conditions, brutal interrogations, and torture.

But only her Heavenly Father saw her tears, never the captors. She sustained herself by singing hymns, quoting scripture, and reciting Russell’s last words: God will never leave you nor forsake you.

 

 

One day Darlene pulled herself up to look out the small window of her cell. She saw a woman make her way to the fence, reach through the underbrush, and come away with a bunch of bananas, which she quickly concealed in the folds of her skirt.

Oh, to eat just one banana, Darlene thought. Lord, how I would love a banana! Darlene could not get the coveted fruit out of her mind. She talked to God about her craving, knowing that such a fantastical desire could not be fulfilled.

The next morning, Darlene had a surprise visitor, Commander Yamaji. Tears filled her eyes. “It’s like seeing an old friend,” she exclaimed.

“You are very ill, aren’t you,” he remarked.

“Yes, Mr. Yamaji, I am.”

When the commander left, Darlene watched him speak to the guards for a long time. Later she heard the familiar stomp of boots outside her cell. The door was unlocked and one of the guards threw a stalk of bananas onto the floor.

“From Mr. Yamaji,” he said.

With tears of praise to God, Darlene counted ninety-two bananas. God had provided—far above what she imagined. She savored them, one per day for three months.

 

 

Darlene would surely have been beheaded as a spy, but she was inexplicably returned to Kampili, the POW camp under Commander Yamaji’s leadership.

Soon nightly bombings began. The women hid as best they could in ditches. Every morning they would have to bury those who had not survived.

One night during the siege, Darlene felt compelled by God to leave her shelter in the dirt, go back to the barracks, and retrieve a Bible. By the time she returned to her ditch the bombing had subsided.

But during Darlene’s brief absence, her refuge had been hit directly and destroyed.

 

 

Finally, in the fall of 1945 the horrific ordeal ended. Darlene returned to her family in America to be nursed back to health. She weighed 80 pounds.

Four years later, Darlene was back in New Guinea. God had brought Gerald Rose into her life, another missionary who also carried a passion for indigenous people. They were married and together raised two sons. For forty years they served God, not only in New Guinea but also in the Outback of Australia.

In 1976, a friend told Darlene she had heard Mr. Yamaji sharing his story on Japanese radio. The angry and cruel prison camp commander had become a changed man because of Jesus.

 

 

No doubt God had used Darlene as an important influence in his life—and in the lives of countless others as well.

 

*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

 

Almighty God, we exult in your sustaining power that carries us through even the most excruciating circumstances. You supply impossible strength, courage, and perseverance to endure. And just as Russell told Darlene, you never leave us nor forsake us. Hallelujah!

(Psalm 28:7; Philippians 4:13; Deuteronomy 31:6; James 1:2-4, Deuteronomy 31:8)

 

Sources:

1) http://reneeannsmith.com/a/tag/darlene-deibler-rose/

2) http://pursuedandconquered.blogspot.com/2012/08/bananas-in-prison.html

3) http://www.danielakin.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/08/Psalm-27-The-Lord-Is-My-Light-and-My-Salvation…Darlene-Diebler-Rose-Convocation-Fall-2016-kh.pdf

4) http://www.scripturaltruths.org/Articles/Real%20Life%20Experiences/REAL%20LIFE%20STORIES%20-%20Darlene%20Deibler%20Rose%20-%20Prisoner%20of%20War%20-%20May%202017%20-%20PDF.pdf

 

Art & photo credits:  http://www.darlenerose.org; http://www.wikimedia.com; http://www.dailyverses.net; http://www.heartlight.org;www.canva.com (2); http://www.heartlight.org (2); http://www.canva.com.

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“The first day of spring is one thing,

the first spring day is another.

The difference between them is sometimes a month.”

–Henry Van Dyke

 

Van Dyke’s observation is surely proving true this year for those of us in the Midwest. Since the first day of spring March 20, we’ve enjoyed only a day or two of shirt-sleeve weather. Cold, unremitting rain and even snow dustings have occurred more often.

 

(Photo taken April 2)

 

But we know the warm euphoria of spring will eventually arrive; it always does.

 

“No winter lasts forever;

No spring ever skips its turn.”

–Hal Borland

 

And when warm sunshine spangles the sky once again, God’s springtime handiwork will proclaim his glory—from deep in the soil where tree roots awaken, to high on the mountains where overflowing streams roil.

 

 

We can join in creation’s celebration, singing our praise to the Maker of Spring:

 

O God of Defined Order,

You appointed four seasons to circle the year,

Each with its own purpose and characteristics—

Winter, Spring, Summer, Autumn—

Inevitably and always in that order.

We praise you for your dependable constancy.

 

 

O God of Gracious Restoration,

You created foliage that returns to life each spring.

New grass suddenly appears, verdant and fresh,

Bush and shrub become draped in pale green lace,

And tree buds finally release their tiny leaf curls.

We praise you for your attentive sovereignty over all things.

 

 

O God of Inventive Design,

From winter’s death you ordained delicate blossoms

To emerge with varicolored vivacity–

Royal crocus, golden daffodils,

Blushing hyacinths, and flame red tulips.

We praise you for your infinite creativity.

 

 

O God of Marvelous Wonders,

You direct springtime rains to wash over the landscape

And replenish the earth.

Leaves sparkle, petals gleam,

And crystal jewels cling to slender limbs.

We praise you for your beauty-yielding renewal.

 

 

O God of Exuberant Transformation,

Songbirds, breezes, and gurgling brooks

Chorus together in euphoric strain,

Because you are the only One who can

Turn harsh winter into jubilant spring,

And we praise you for your miracle-working magnificence.

 

 

You are the Almighty God of invigoration.

And we celebrate you, the Gracious Giver of springtime joy!

 

 

_____________________________

 

P.S Most of you know that Steve was diagnosed with liver cancer at the end of March. Radiation therapy beginning in early May will be the first line of defense, with a liver transplant expected in the fall.

Meanwhile, we praise God for his peace, presence, and intervention.  One example of the latter: it just so happens (!) my nephew’s girlfriend is a profusionist.  That’s the person who runs the heart-lung machine to keep a patient alive during transplants and certain surgeries.  She sent an email full of helpful information and uplifting encouragement.  Bottom line:  there is every reason to expect Steve to fully recover!

Thank you VERY much for your prayers on Steve’s behalf.  God IS working!

 

(Photo credits:  http://www.flickr.com; Nancy Ruegg; http://www.wikimedia.com; http://www.flickr.com; http://www.wikimedia.com; http://www.pixabay.com (2); http://www.fickr.com (2).

 

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“Are you all set for your move to Chicago?” I heard Jessica* ask. She’s one of the hair stylists at the salon I go to. Her station is just on the other side of a partition from where my stylist Anna* works.

As I settled into Anna’s chair last Wednesday morning, I readily heard the conversation between Jessica and her client.

“Yes, we found the perfect house,” the woman was saying. “There are just two bedrooms, but…”

I knew that voice.

In late December my hair appointment had overlapped with the same client. That day she had expressed concern because none of the properties shown on realtor websites were fitting her and her husband’s criteria. She feared there would be no suitable homes to tour during their house hunt set for mid-February.

“I don’t know what we’re going to do,” she confided. “I hate to think of moving into a rental and then moving again later.”

It seemed fitting to share our house-search experience.

“Excuse me,” I interrupted while peeking around the partition. “I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation and just wanted to tell you the same thing happened to us before we moved here three and a half years ago.  We discovered that if the perfect house becomes available too soon, it’s likely to be sold by the time you’re able to visit the area and view homes.

“Our perfect house came on the market just two weeks before we flew up here from Florida to house-hunt. The same will happen for you, I’m sure of it!”

She thanked me warmly, appreciative of the voice-of experience offering reassurance.

And now, at the end of March, I was quite certain that same woman (whom I had not seen since December) was in Jessica’s chair again, sharing the next chapter of her story.

I peeked around the partition just as I had before.  Instantly we recognized each other.

“You found the perfect house! Awesome!” I cried.

“Just like you said, “ she replied. “It came on the market a couple of weeks before our trip to Chicago.”

It wasn’t long before the two of us sported our coloring-chemicals and sat together so I could hear about her house. We chatted away like old friends.

A couple of times Diane* mentioned her husband’s illness but gave no specifics; I didn’t press for details. Later in the conversation it seemed appropriate to share Steve’s recent diagnosis of liver cancer. (You can read a short explanation at the end of last week’s post, “Haven of Peace.”)

“I don’t always talk about the details of my Ken’s* illness,” Diane confided, “but you need to know.” She paused. “Ken was diagnosed with brain cancer two years ago. The doctors only gave him twelve to fifteen months to live after the surgery, but it’s been two years and he’s still here!”

And together we praised God for his goodness.

I left the salon last Wednesday with my heart greatly uplifted. Ordinarily I would have sat at Anna’s station and read magazines or the book I always bring along.

But God is El Roi, the God Who Sees (Genesis 16:13). He saw my need for companionship that day.

He is Jehovah Jireh, the Lord Will Provide (Genesis 22:14). He provided Diane to be his voice of encouragement, hope, and joy.

He is El Shaddai, God Almighty (Psalm 91:1). He rules over all—every situation, every difficulty, every illness—even cancer.  Sometimes he ordains miracles.   Diane’s husband and countless others are living proof.

 

 

He is Yahweh Nissi, The Lord Our Banner (Exodus 17:15-16).  He goes into the battle before us, leading the way toward victory in all circumstances—a victory of faith in the face of trouble (1 John 5:4).

He is Yahweh Rapha, The Lord Who Heals (Psalm 103:2-3). And if the healing is not realized on earth, it is guaranteed in heaven (Revelation 21:4).

 

*     *    *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

 

We praise you, O God,

for your knowledge that comforts,

your provision that reassures,

your power that enables,

your leadership that guides,

your healing that perfects.

You alone are the wellspring

of all that we need.

May we trust in you

with unwavering confidence

and rest in your transcendent peace.  

 

*Names changed.

 

(Photo credits:  http://www.minot.af.mil (Cassandra Jones, photographer); http://www.dailyverses.net.

 

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