Category: Never Give Up

Three Strong Women

Strong Woman #1:

She watched as the water rose a little higher each day. The beautiful pasture behind her house was gone. The only evidence her house had not been built lakeside was the many trees still trying to climb above the rising floodwaters to reach the sky above. The barn that normally stored her husband’s equipment and tools was in the middle of this new “lake” and reachable only by boat.

She stood on the back step of her house explaining to her friends by live-feed that they couldn’t stay at their home any longer since it, too, could only be reached by boat. She asked for prayers for everyone living in her rural community, but she also made sure we knew she was going to be fine because God was already providing for her family.

She was so positive about her dire circumstances that it was inspiring.

Strong Woman #2:

In an interview following the hurricane that devastated her community, she admitted to looking at her husband in the midst of the storm and telling him they weren’t going to make it. They did make it but had to climb through rubble to get out of the building that collapsed around them.

Her life, her community, her town in shambles – she went to work. She was the mayor and her people needed her to be strong when they couldn’t be. She organized; she helped; she found resources; she did whatever she needed to do to help the people counting on her. All the while, she kept a line of communication going for the community to both give them needed information and also lift their spirits.

She was so positive about her dire circumstances that it was inspiring.

Strong Woman #3:

She listened to what the doctor had to say. The diagnosis was worse than she had originally been told. It was cancer and it had spread. She was no stranger to cancer. She was a widow of nearly six years because of cancer. She had fought it a few years ago in her own battle and won.

She looked to the doctor with a brave smile on her face and told him she was going to hold on to what her very wise grandson had told her five years ago when she faced her first battle. That young boy, who was wise beyond his ten years, told her that if she won that fight she was going to get to stay with him, the grandson. If she didn’t win, she would get to stay with Jesus. “Either way, it’s a win/win situation for you, Grandma,” she repeated.

She was so positive about her dire circumstances that it was inspiring.

These three woman have all recently found themselves in circumstances that would break many people. I’m sure they each feel overwhelmed and afraid at times. As of this moment, all three are still living in their respective crisis. Despite their circumstances, they are all three a beautiful example of the Proverbs 31 wife. They are all inspiring.

“She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at days to come. She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue…’Many women do noble things, but you surpass them all’ (Proverbs 31:25-26,29 NIV).”

With Just One Breath

One breath… Take one breath with me right now. Feel your chest rise as your lungs fill with air. Feel it fall as you exhale. Let’s do it again, but this time close your eyes. Make it a long, slow, deep breath. Imagine you can not only feel but can also see the air as it enters your nostrils, passes through your throat and down your windpipe, then flows into the passages of your lungs eventually passing oxygen to your bloodstream. As you slowly exhale, imagine the carbon dioxide flowing out of you only to be replaced by more oxygen in the next breath.

Some of us have no difficulty breathing. Others struggle with every single breath we take. Easy or difficult doesn’t change the fact that your heart needs oxygen from our breath to continue to beat. Each breath we take is important, but there was one breath taken – one simple breath – that changed the course of humanity. There was one breath taken in all of history that impacted every person living today and every person who has ever lived.

That one breath…

There was no machine to force the chest to rise and fall in an artificial rhythm. There was no one performing CPR trying to stimulate the lungs to inhale on their own. There was nothing but stillness. For three days the body with unmoving lungs and unbeating heart lay on stone carved into a cave tomb. For three days all of humanity was lost in death.

Then the stillness was broken. He took the breath – the breath that changed everything, the breath that gave us hope.

I Peter 1:3 states, “Praise be to God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.”

With just one breath…

“Who Told You That?”

It’s been a few months since I’ve posted to my blog – nine to be exact. I’ve written a few things but they just didn’t feel right. They didn’t feel worthy of posting, so some wait patiently in a notebook and some quickly found the nearest trash can. Despite the fact that I have known for a long time that God has called me to write, nothing I wrote felt good enough to me.

This week I realized why.

Monday I pulled out my copy of The Quest by Beth Moore. It’s a Bible study I started a few months ago but didn’t finish. I started reading the answers I had written back then in response to some of Beth’s questions, and I realized why my writing “wasn’t good enough” but I didn’t do anything that day to change it.

Then I received a message today from God. Well, the message was actually from Facebook, but God can and will use whatever means He needs to in order to get His children to listen. I heard His message weeks ago when a handful of people asked me in the same week if I was still writing. Then I heard His message through Beth this week. Today’s message from Him sunk in when I received a notification that said, “1,014 people who like Forgiven Faith haven’t heard from you in a while. Write a post.”

Four hours later that number has increased by five. I don’t know where all these likes have come from. I haven’t posted since November of 2017 and the last I checked it was only in the 300s. My writing is not enough to attract 1,000 readers and I don’t promote, so I don’t know how my likes increased that much. I do know God has used that number to convict me.

God told me four years ago to write. I fumbled through writing for about three years. Some of my posts were terrible, but some were pretty good.

Somewhere along the way, I guess a year ago, I made a grievous error. I listened to a newly published author who is not a faith-based writer or even a faith-based person. That counsel was very discouraging and I have been unable to focus my thoughts on writing since that time. I learned the feel of writers block.

The counsel I received from Beth Moore this week is helping to reverse the impact of the false counsel I internalized all those months ago, however. There are two questions she posed that really spoke to me. The first felt like a knife in the chest and the second, a knife in the back.

“Where are you?”

When Adam and Eve first sinned, when they ate that infamous fruit they immediately knew they were wrong to do it and they hid from God in the garden. God knew exactly where they were but He wanted them to come to Him, so in Genesis chapter one verse nine, “the Lord God called to the man, ‘Where are you?'”

God has been asking me that same question in more ways than I can remember and today He sent it to me by Facebook. I was knowingly ignoring His directions and was not writing. I was coming up with every possible excuse to explain why I had not done what He had instructed just like Adam and Eve did. I had thrust that knife into my own chest.

Then God (and Beth) asked, “Who told you that…? (Genesis 1:11)”

Who told me my writing was unworthy of publishing? Who told me I was doing it all wrong? Who told me I was wasting my time writing faith-based blogs and stories? Who did I allow to stick a knife in my back?

It wasn’t God who said any of those things to me; and, since it wasn’t God, why was I listening?

I’m back. Good or bad blog post, I’m back. I pray I don’t disappoint.

Hot Potato and No Espanol

I immediately felt a little tug on my heart and knew I couldn’t leave her standing there all by herself. I walked over to her, said “Hola” and sat in the dirt beside her so I could be at her eye level. I read the little sticker on her shirt, pointed to her and said “Emyly.”  She smiled and nodded and I pointed toward myself and said “Holly.”  Emyly smiled and started talking. 

The concrete building was a giant echo chamber, but at least it was cooler than it was outside. We hadn’t been outside long and I hoped we wouldn’t be out much longer. My team, the blue team, consisted of four Buckner International volunteers, one Buckner intern volunteer and two interpreters. We had already finished our vacation Bible school story and memory verse sessions. The crafts and shoes would come later after the recreation session we were outside for right now. I was very happy about the game our recreation leader chose. I am not in shape and I trip over oxygen all the time, but hot potato with a balloon was something I could do. One of the interpreters played some music from her phone. When the music stopped, the person stuck with the balloon had to get in the middle of the circle and do their best imitation of the animal chosen by the recreation leader. We had a monkey, an alligator and a handful of others. I was assigned an elephant for my turn in the middle. 

There was something I found very interesting during my time in Guatemala. The parents and grandparents were often just as excited about the activities as the children were. They tried memorizing the Bible verses, they made the crafts and they often played the games. On this day, we had a handful of parents and they played hot potato along with the rest of us. As I watched the balloon make its second clockwise lap around our little circle, I noticed a little girl, maybe four years old, standing in between two women on my right. She looked excited as the balloon headed her direction. As it made its way to the first woman, the little girl raised her hands to take her turn in passing it, but she wasn’t the only one excited. Both of the women she stood between were enjoying the game and were trying to make sure neither of them ended up in the middle of the circle imitating a cow or rooster, so they got rid of that balloon as quickly as possible. They skipped the little girl. The disappointment lasted only a moment on her face, but I still felt bad for her. As the balloon made its laps and the animal-imitators entered and exited center stage, I was distracted. I don’t know if that little girl in the pink shirt and white hat with little butterflies printed on it ever got her turn to pass the balloon. 

After a few rounds, the recreation leader and interpreters decided to try a new game. We played so many games during that week that I honestly don’t remember what the new game was, but I decided to watch from the sidelines and take some pictures and videos. As I was watching, I noticed the little girl in the white hat with the butterflies standing on the sidelines leaning against the side of a nearby building. She was holding the two purses and umbrella that I remember the two women holding during the earlier game, and she quietly watched everyone else enjoying the fun. I immediately felt a little tug on my heart and knew I couldn’t leave her standing there all by herself. I walked over to her, said “Hola” and sat in the dirt beside her so I could be at her eye level. I read the little sticker on her shirt, pointed to her and said “Emyly.”  She smiled and nodded and I pointed toward myself and said “Holly.”  Emyly smiled and started talking. 

If you read my last blog, you know I don’t speak Spanish, so when she stopped talking and looked at me with a look that indicated she was expecting an answer I had no idea what to say. I did the one thing I had become pretty good at in the last few days. I raised my hands palm up, tilted my head, shrugged my shoulders and said “no Espanol.” Emyly tilted her head back, laughed at me and started talking again. She didn’t appear to ask me any more questions, so I guess she understood what I had told her. That didn’t stop her from talking, though, and from pointing at people and things as she talked. I didn’t have any idea what she was telling me until I heard a Spanish word that sounded similar to the English word family. She talked and talked and talked some more, all the time knowing that I had no clue what she was telling me. I did try pointing out my daughter and telling Emyly that I was Megan’s mom, but I couldn’t remember how to even say that. As Emyly watched, I walked to Megan, got her attention and asked how to say that I was her mom. Megan doesn’t remember much of her high school Spanish but she was able to tell Emyly that I was her mother. 

As I sat back down beside Emyly I tried to find things to communicate with her about. When she took her hat off I traced one of the butterflies with my finger, pointed at it, said “butterfly” and tried to find a way to ask her what a butterfly was called in Spanish. I’m not sure if she ever figured out what I was trying to communicate. I didn’t understand another word she said, but that was okay. This may sound odd to you, as my reader, but despite the fact that neither of us understood anything the other was saying, Emyly and I had a really amazing conversation. We talked and we laughed and we enjoyed the brief time we had together. I will never forget little Emyly.

Children are amazing. Their innocence allows them to grab ahold of faith without questioning it and hold on until that innocence is broken. After it is broken, some manage to hold on but many do not. The Gospel of Luke tells of a time when parents were taking their children to Jesus to have Him touch them. “When the disciples saw this, they rebuked them. But Jesus called the children to him and said, ‘Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it‘ (Luke 18:15b-17).” 

Heaven is for children – God’s children; but unless we can hold on to our faith like an innocent child does, we risk losing our soul. We have to let go of all of the baggage that we carry as adults and just talk to our Heavenly Father, even when we think He isn’t listening or we don’t understand what He is saying. We need to be like little Emyly and just keep talking to Him – even when we don’t have any idea what His answer is. He is listening; and when the time is right, He will make sure we understand exactly what His answer is. Until that time comes, actively spend your time practicing the faith of a child and keep talking to Him. If you do this, He will answer and you will understand…in His time.

NOTE: Thank you, again, WayFM and Buckner International for giving Megan and I this amazing opportunity to serve with you.

“Luke 18:15b-17.” NIV Archeological Study Bible: An Illustrated Walk through Biblical History and Culture. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2005. N. pag. Print.

The Difference Between Doing and Living

Have you ever been so tired that no matter how hard you tried you just couldn’t hold your eyes open and you were not somewhere you wanted to be caught sleeping?  On one particular day during my junior year of high school I was sitting at one of the long science tables in physics class trying very unsuccessfully to stay awake.  Mr. W. was a great teacher who entertained his classes with hilarious stories, but he spoke very monotone and the steady tone of his voice worked on me just like a lullaby does to a baby.  I don’t remember who had the pleasure of waking me up that day, but I will never forget being startled awake and feeling so embarrassed.  I felt like the focal point for the entire class whether they were paying attention or not.

If you follow my blog or happened to read my last post, you may remember that it was about the individual person being distracted by the things going on in his or her life and the distractions found on the news or social media.  In the Gospel of Mark, chapter 13, verses 32 through 33 Jesus says, “No one knows the day or hour when these things [His return] will happen, not even the angels in heaven or the Son himself.  And since you don’t know when they will happen, stay alert and keep watch.”

I don’t want to be embarrassed again by falling asleep somewhere I shouldn’t, but the thought of Jesus catching me asleep when I am supposed to be a living example of His love is… I don’t even have words to describe how horrible that would be.  There have been many times in my life during which I have watched for His return and there are other times when I have allowed distractions to take His place as my focal point.  I have recently realized that during some of the times I thought I was being watchful for Him I was actually being distracted by what I thought was His service.  I was doing the “right things” as I understood those things in Scripture, but I wasn’t really living those right things in the right way.  What if I’m not the only one?  What if Jesus comes back and finds not only me sleeping but whole congregations sleeping as well?  What can slip past the sleeping congregations and sit right down on the pew beside each member?

The book of Revelations, chapters two and three consist of letters dictated by Jesus to the churches of Biblical times and they tell us exactly what can happen when the congregation is sleeping.  The first letter is written to the church in Ephesus and should be a wake-up call to churches today.  “I know all the things you do.  I have seen your hard work and your patient endurance.  I know you don’t tolerate evil people…  But I have this complaint against you.  You don’t love me or each other as you did at first!  Look how far you have fallen from your first love!  Turn back to me again and work as you did at first.”  In His letter to the church in Sardis Jesus said, “I know all the things you do, and that you have a reputation for being alive – but you are dead.  Now wake up!  Strengthen what little remains for even what is left is at the point of death.”

The accusations against these churches were written in letters to those congregations, but they were included in Scripture for a reason.  God doesn’t simply want us to know what He said to these churches that have been gone for centuries.  He wants us to realize He is talking to the churches of today, too – my church, your church, the church around the corner and the church across town.

The churches of today need to wake up and open their eyes to the things going on around them and even within their own congregations.  In His letter to the church in Thyatica Jesus speaks of a woman, Jezebel, doing and encouraging sin within the church.  All churches have a Jezebel at some point in time.  Most churches have a Jezebel right now whether they realize it or not.  Jezebel could open the church up to many things such as gossip, lies, theft, or even drugs, sexual immorality or idolatry and false teaching.  The important thing with all church Jezebels is that the church handle the situation Scripturally.  Is she allowed to continue her behavior while various people pray for her to change?  Is she spoken to about her behavior but allowed to continue with it?  Is her behavior addressed according to the instructions presented in Scripture?  There may be times in the life of the church that His children look around themselves with concern and fear because their Jezebel seems so strong or out of control, but rest assured God will not allow Jezebel to continue forever.  In His letter to the church of Thyatira Jesus warns, “I gave her time to repent, but she would not turn away from her immorality.  Therefore, I will throw her upon a sickbed, and she will suffer greatly with all who commit adultery with her, unless they turn away from all their evil deeds.  I will strike her children dead.  And all the churches will know that I am the one who searches out the thoughts and intentions of every person.  And I will give each of you whatever you deserve….”  I’m not sure how you feel about that part of His letter, but I find it a little scary for the church.  Jezebel’s children are not necessarily the ones she has physically given birth to.  They could just as easily be other members of the church family who have become actively or passively involved in her behavior.

Jesus always leaves us with hope, however, such as the promise in his letter to the church in Philadelphia.  “I know all the things you do, and I have opened a door for you that no one can shut.  You have little strength, yet you obeyed my word and did not deny me.  Look!  I will force those who belong to Satan [including Jezebel and her children] – those liars who say they are Jews [children of God] but are not – to come and bow down at your feet.  They will acknowledge that you are the ones I love.  Because you have obeyed my command to persevere, I will protect you from the great time of testing that will come upon the whole world to test those who belong to this world.” What an awesome promise!

This post jumps around a bit in topic, but it can be applied to both the individual person and the church body. Stop doing the right things because they are the right things to do; and start living, really living the right way. Would you rather stand before Jesus at His judgement seat and hear Him say you obeyed Him, or would you rather hear Him say you lived your life in a way that other people saw Him through you? The choice is yours.

The Other Side of the Valley of Baca

Do you feel like you are wandering through a desert with nothing but sand to see in every direction? I’ve felt at various times in my life like I was in a desert, but those deserts were nothing in comparison to the Valley of Baca I have traveled through this past year.

I’m sure we have all seen at least one movie in which someone is stranded in a desert, trudging through the sand, thirsty, sunburned, so desperate for water and shade that they sometimes see a mirage with a pool of cool, clear water in the shade of some palms.

Psalm 84 talks of one of these deserts called the Valley of Baca. When I googled Baca I found a variety of definitions. One definition describes love, another defines Baca as a specific type of tree, but the most common definition of Baca is a desert known as the Valley of Weeping. Many historians believe travelers on their way to the Feast of Tabernacle would often have no choice but to travel through the Valley of Baca. It is thought that the travelers would often dig a hole in the hopes it would fill with ground water. If that didn’t happen, the hole would be left with the hope that it would fill with rain water that the next weary traveler could drink.

Do you feel like you are in Baca right now? Do you feel like you are wandering through a desert with nothing but sand to see in every direction? I’ve felt at various times in my life like I was in a desert, but those deserts were nothing in comparison to the Valley of Baca I have traveled through this past year.

In these last few months, I have longed for peace and comfort. I have experienced moments of peace in which the hole I dug had filled with water and other moments when I found a hole dug by another traveler that had filled with life-sustaining water through rain. I have walked. I have crawled. I have fallen and rolled down the giant sand dunes like I have seen in movies. I have even been carried through portions of my Valley of Baca. I have cried, I have prayed, I have begged, and I have praised. I have trudged up one sand dune hoping to see a luscious, green valley on the other side, just to drop to my knees and cry when I reach the top and see nothing but sand in all directions on the other side. I have often longed for God to pick me up and hold me in His lap like a child and comfort and protect me.

In Psalm 84:5-9 the Psalmist wrote, “Blessed is the man whose strength is in You, whose heart is set on pilgrimage.  As they pass through the Valley of Baca, they make a spring; the rain also covers it with pools. They go from strength to strength; each one appears before God in Zion.”

I am here to tell you that I have traveled through Baca and I can see the other side. I am not quite to that beautiful, green grass, but I can almost feel it between my toes. If you are in your own Valley of Baca, don’t give up. Keep going. Dig a hole for water. If you are too tired to dig, find a hole some other traveler has left for you. If you can’t walk any more right now on your own, find another traveler to help you. Keep moving.

“How lovely is Your tabernacle, O Lord of hosts! My soul longs, yes, even faints for the courts of the Lord; my heart and my flesh cry out for the living God. Even the sparrow has found a home, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may lay her young – even Your alters, O Lord of hosts, my King and my God. Blessed are those who dwell in Your house; they will still be praising You….For a day in Your courts is better than a thousand.  I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of wickedness. For the Lord God is a sun and shield; the Lord will give grace and glory; no good thing will He withhold from those who walk uprightly. O Lord of hosts, blessed is the man who trusts in You” (Psalm 84:1-4,10-12).

Cry out to God and focus on Him. If all you can see right now when you look around you is Baca and God, you have all you need. God carried me through Baca, and He will do the same for you if you will just ask.

New Happiness Despite Old Circumstances

If someone had told me a year ago that I would be where I am today, I would have told them they were crazy. Not only would I have never allowed things to spin this far out of control, I would never have been able to survive as things are now.

If someone had told me six months ago that everything that my life was would be gone in three months, I would have told them they were as wrong as wrong could be.

If someone had told me three months ago that I would soon be happier than I had been in over two decades, I would have told them they had no idea what they were talking about and obviously didn’t know me very well. At that time I was too devestated to really, truly function or see any possibility of happiness in my future.

Guess what. In each of these instances I would have been the one who was wrong. When I look back on the multitude of major changes that have taken place during this difficult time in my life, I visualize a big box that my life was carefully packed away in. Some of my life was packed neatly and organized and some was simply thrown into the box with the rest. Regardless of how or when it was placed in the box, each item was very valuable to me. Once my whole life was packed away to keep it safe, someone snatched the box from the place l had hidden it for safety.  They flipped it upside down and shook until the entire box, my life, was empty, handed that empty box to me, stomped on much of the contents and then smugly walked away.

I felt lost at first, frozen and unable to think. After some time had passed, I knelt down on the floor and began to try to put everything back in the box, but the box seemed much smaller now. After a while I realized that the broken pieces of my life wouldn’t fit in the box any more. I had a difficult time fitting everything in the box before it was dumped and was now faced with the task of trying to shove every broken piece, big or small, into a space never made to hold so much. It couldn’t be done.

With tears flowing down my face, I removed each broken piece of my life and spread them neatly around the floor beside the box. I gazed upon them and mourned my losses. How could I continue without these pieces of my life whether they were whole or broken? I tried desperately to find a way to glue the shattered pieces back together. I insisted I would succeed, but after a while I realized I was lying to myself. No amount of glue or tape could ever fix these shattered pieces and make them whole again, and they could not fit back into the box I held no matter how I tried. I didn’t know what to do.

I knew I couldn’t go on without these pieces but they couldn’t be fixed. I cried and I cried…a lot, and then I began to pack the unbroken items back into the box. Even these unbroken pieces were marred in some way by scratches, bruises, dents or cracks, but they were still intact despite their scars. As I placed the last of the unbroken pieces of my life into the box, I saw something through the tears welled up in my eyes. My box was full and not because it was smaller. My box had grown in size and the scarred but unbroken pieces of my life that now resided in this box had grown, too. 

The box I packed my life into was completely full and it no longer seemed like anything was missing. The shattered pieces on the floor around me were no longer important. I had thought for over two decades that each item I had packed away was extremely important and irreplaceable. I had packed each of my precious “belongings” away to protect them, but all that I had really accomplished was to hold on to them for two decades longer than God wanted me to. These things had no real value and actually lowered the value of the other pieces of my life.

My life outside of my imaginary box has changed considerably. Some of the changes were painful to live through but each and every one of them was needed and has brought me to a new place in my life…a new place where I feel respected, wanted and loved.

Isaiah 43:2 says, “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.”

I thought I would not survive the complete change my life has been through; but, as it says in Isaiah 43:2, I did not drown or burn. I made it and I am happy for the first time in many, many years.

Fear

What is the one thing you fear more than anything else? You fear this thing so much that you don’t even want to put words to it, to speak it aloud. Now picture that thing in your mind. Picture it clearly and vividly. How does it make you feel to visualize it? What other feelings accompany the fear you feel when you force your mind to visualize this dreaded image…anxiety, pain, sadness, guilt, anger, hate?

I rarely watch the local, national or world news any more.  Occasionally, a news program may share a story of heroism, generosity, or compassion; but, more often than not, listening to any news program triggers sadness and fear.  ISIS, Boko Haram, Iran, bombings, religious mass murder, shootings, kidnappings, plane crashes and disappearances, storms, rapes, pestilence, drought, famine, economic recession, and a list that can go on forever. These are the stories we hear in vivid details that no one in their right mind wants to visualize. This is the world we live in. This is the world left to us by our parents, and this is the world our children will inherit from us.

Did our parents teach us to fear? Are we teaching our children to fear? As terrible as world events have become, as paralyzing as personal tragedies can be, we all have the ability and responsibility to keep living, keep loving, keep going, and to teach our children the same. Most importantly, we need to teach our children to be happy as they are. Matthew 6:25-27 quotes Jesus instruction to us about fear.  “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear.  Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes?  Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them.  Are you not much more valuable than they?  Who among you by worrying can add a single day to his life.”

It may appear like everything in the world is spiraling out of control and we may fear that our own lives will be touched by some tragic event, but we should never allow our minds to dwell upon these possibilities. Anything could happen at any time. No amount of fear will truly remove the possibility that something tragic may happen in your life. Choose to let go of your fear. Choose to live today focusing on today rather than to live today by allowing your fear to focus on a possible event that may never happen.

“I heard and my heart pounded, my lips quivered at the sound; decay crept into my bones, and my legs trembled.  Yet I will wait patiently for the day of calamity to come on the nation invading us.  Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior.  The Sovereign Lord is my strength; he makes my feet like the feet of a deer, he enables me to go on the heights (Habakkuk 3:16-19).”

Pearl

I’ve always loved horses but I’ve never been able to have one. My husband had to take care of them when he was growing up and didn’t want anything to do with them as an adult. Now I have Pearl.

My son’s girlfriend introduced me to Pearl but not with the intent of Pearl becoming mine. Pearl and a beautiful Arabian horse belonged to a man who was no longer able to keep them. My son’s girlfriend was given the offer to take the Arabian as her own but there was one catch. She couldn’t have the beautiful thoroughbred unless she took the old nag, too. Both horses were taken to the vet prior to us seeing them. We were told we would most definitely need to have a vet come out to put Pearl down. She was in horrible health and it was unlikely she could recover at her age. This was our plan…at least until I saw her unload from that trailer.

Pearl was in horrible physical condition, but she carried her head with such spirit I couldn’t let the rest of my family give up on her. It’s been a slow process and rather expensive and I don’t know if she will ever fit the picture in my mind of what I want her to look like, but she’s not a lost cause.

Pearl reminds me of so many people I’ve met in my life. We’ve all known someone, maybe many someones, the world considers a lost cause. Some of these “lost causes” take a lot of time and effort to save. It can be exhausting and sometimes we need to remember that God doesn’t always expect you to be the one to “fix” everyone. Sometimes you are supposed to sit back and pray while someone else does the work. But just as I felt it would have been inhumane to give up on Pearl, it would be inhumane to consider lost causes as forever lost.