He Failed the Stress Test

In his mid-60s, Larry was the picture of health. Then, last Tuesday, he failed his stress test in the cardiologist's office.

"Come back in the morning so that we can do a heart cath and maybe put in a couple of stents," the doctor told him.

The next day, less than half an hour after they took Larry back to do the heart cath, the doctor came out to talk to my sister. "We can't put in stents," he told her. "One of Larry's blood vessels is 98% blocked and has a kink in it. Tomorrow, we'll do by-pass surgery."

Larry entered the operating room at noon. After six hours, the surgeon came out to tell our family that he replaced four blood vessels. "The plaque," he said, "blocked all of them at least 90%. They were no longer pliable, but as hard as concrete."

Less than a week after this whole thing started, Larry's recovery exceeds the doctors' expectations. They prepare to discharge him from the hospital, today.

This sequence of events stunned our family. Before we could get our minds to accept that Larry needed medical intervention, the surgery was over. At the same time, the 48 hours between stress test failure and the end of the operation stretched out so that each hour seemed to be a day.

My sister set the standard for us as she responded to these events with faith. She had no assurance that God would allow Larry to stay with her. Within, she had a terror of being left behind, bereft of her partner, lover, and best friend. Tension knotted her stomach and roiled her thoughts as she waited to see whether God would take Larry to heaven or leave him here. She knows the truth in Lamentations 3:37-38: "Who can speak and have it happen if the Lord has not decreed it? Is it not from the mouth of the Most High that both calamities and good things come?" God held Larry's life in His hands.

Yet the uncertainty of the results did not rob her of her trust in God. Before the surgery, she told one of my nephews, "We will not allow the events of this week to steal from us the peace that God has given us." By an act of her will, she remained focused on God and His goodness.

In The Disciple of Grace, Jerry Bridges reminds us that Hebrews 12:20 states: "God disciplines us for our good, that we may share in His holiness."

He further states, "This is the design of God in all of the adversity and heartache we experience in this life. There is no such thing as random or chance events in our lives. All pain we experience is intended to move us closer to the goal of being holy as He is holy."

Sometimes our response to adversities causes us to move away from holiness rather than toward it. The next time heartache comes in my life – and I know it will – my thoughts will turn to my sister. Like her, I will acknowledge the pain I feel. Like her, I will take my pain to God and trust in Him.

Revealing Hypocrisy

Not everyone who says one thing but does another is a hypocrite. A woman, who gossips but fights against that sin even when she participates, is not a hypocrite. An honest man, who steals money from his partner to feed his family, is not a hypocrite. The subtle distinction is the reality of the person's belief. If a woman pretends to hate gossip in order to trick someone else into sharing a confidence and then gossips about it, she is a hypocrite. If a man pretends he is honest so that he can gain access to his partner's money in order to steal it, he is a hypocrite.

"Beware of the leaven of the Pharisees, which is hypocrisy. Nothing is covered up that will not be revealed, or hidden that will not be known. Therefore whatever you have said in the dark shall be heard in the light, and what you have whispered in private rooms shall be proclaimed on the housetops." (Luke 12:1-3, ESV)

Hypocrisy was the problem with the Pharisees. They pretended to love God when they loved only themselves. They pretended to teach the people about God when they taught their own set of rules and regulations. They were not servants of their people before God, even though they pretended to be. All of this hypocrisy existed for one purpose: in order for the Pharisees to be important, powerful, rich leaders in their culture.

This pharisaical hypocrisy continues, today. Some men become ministers in order to have a cover for their sin, not because they are called by God. We see the results of this proclaimed in the headlines: priests abuse alter boys, ministers betray parishioners' trust, preachers steal the church's money. The shock of revelation can be almost as destructive as the sinful act.

Some ministers perform another type of hypocrisy. They abuse their wives and children. From the outside, the family looks perfect, but that is all part of the lie. This form of hypocrisy is often the most difficult to break open. No church member wants to believe that his or her pastor is capable of hurting his own family.

Mary DeMuth wrote a fictional account of a small Texas town, a child's murder, and a family's secret life of abuse at the hands of their preacher/father. The story is well written in three books that follow from the murder in Daisy Chain to catching the killer in Life in Defiance.

Woven throughout these two books as well as the middle one, A Slow Burn, is a vivid portrait of a family in extreme distress and pain. As the life for this family unfolded, I found myself comparing Mary's descriptions of their actions and emotions to the twenty or so preachers' families that I have known through the years. I could recognize two families that had many similarities. One of the preachers went to prison for abuse. The other one left town with his family to escape facing the truth.

I recommend all three of these books for the well-written stories. More than that, I ask that, after you read the books, you consider whether you know someone who may need your help. Revealing the hypocrisy of an abuser may save someone's life.

Food for Thought

One of my favorite activities is "God-at-work" watching. Some people like to go bird watching; I like to keep my eyes open for "God-at-work" signs.

Take last week, for instance. The Holy Spirit began setting me up for a "WOW! Did you see that?" experience.

Pam, one of my "adopted daughters" came to visit. When I asked her what God was teaching her, she was open enough to tell me that she was in a dry spell where reading the Bible did nothing for her. We went on to speak of other things and I promised to pray for her.

Fast forward to our Bible study group meeting, on Wednesday. Ms. Verla, (see this post Grand opportunity Take Two to get better acquainted with her) shared her frustration about reading the Bible one minute and not remembering what she read the next minute.

Any of us who have been Christians for very long know just how they feel. Sometimes we, like Pam, get nothing from what we read in the Bible. At other times, we, like Ms. Verla, remember nothing of what we just read. As the group discussed Ms. Verla's situation, shared their own similar experiences, and offered possible solutions that had been helpful to them, the Holy Spirit gave me an insight entirely new to me: even when our minds gets no benefit from reading the Bible, it nourishes our spirits.

Both Pam and Verla thought they were wasting their time when they read the Bible but saw no lasting benefit. If it were only our minds that needed the truth found in God's Word, then they would be correct. However, Psalm 143:4a says, "So my spirit grows faint within me." The food that nourishes our spirits is God's Word.

When I encouraged Ms. Verla to read her Bible - even if she remembered nothing – to nourish her spirit, Anna, our Bible study leader took up the thought with a great analogy. I want to personalize this analogy as I share it with you.

My daughter, Melana, was involved in an automobile accident several years ago. As a result, she was in a coma for 17 days. She was unable to eat or even be aware of her need to eat. With her mind out of the loop, the doctors fed her through a feeding tube. That kept her body strong enough to heal the trauma to her brain. Without the intervention of the doctors, she would probably have died from starvation before she could recover enough to eat on her own.

That is what happens to us when we go through a dry spell, spiritually. We can stop reading our Bibles, praying, and attending church simply because they feel like dry duties, of no benefit to us. That is the point where we must intervene on behalf of our spirits. We must keep our spirits strong while our minds are out of sync with God.

Like Pam and Ms. Verla, we can ask others to pray for us; we can ask others for suggestions for relief, but most of all we can carry on. We can feed our spirits until showers of blessings overcome the drought in our minds and we experience the touch of God in our lives that will certainly come again.

Now for the WOW moment, Pam called this morning to wish me happy birthday. I reminded her of our conversation from her last visit and told her about our time in Bible study, my insight and the analogy God gave Anna. I could almost see the light bulb go on over her head. A sense of wonder filled her voice as she thought about feeding her spirit even when her mind failed to cooperate. Two weeks, five people, and "God-at-work" closed the circle of need and understanding, bringing forth wisdom that we can all use in the future. Isn't God good?

Another Awesome Miracle

In order for you to understand the significance of the latest miracle that God has performed on my behalf, I need to tell you some personal history. Sit back and relax, some of this is (almost) ancient history…

In 1952, the summer I was five years old, a polio epidemic swept the United States. Almost every family had someone who contracted the disease. In my family, I was the only one who caught it.

Polio affects both the nerves and the muscles. Some cases are mild and a person never recognizes that they are a polio survivor. Not everyone was – a survivor, I mean. Some people died from the onset of polio and others died from complications after the acute phase was over. Those who survived were left with varying degrees of nerve damage and muscle atrophy.

My case was a serious one; I was completely paralyzed from the neck down. I could move my head from side to side, move my tongue, and swallow. Fortunately, my diaphragm still moved air in and out of my lungs. (Patients whose diaphragm was paralyzed lived in an iron lung, which acted as a mechanical diaphragm.)

During the acute phase of the disease, the doctors told my parents to be prepared for my death. My parents are people of great faith with large Christian families on both sides who know how to pray in faith and who believed that God could heal me. So, despite the doctors' fears, I survived that phase of the disease. That was my first polio miracle.

My second miracle came with hard work on my part and dedication on the parts of my physical therapist and my Mother. The doctors, pessimists that they can be, told my parents that it was highly likely that I would never be able to leave my bed. Their caution was well founded. The acute phase of polio left me with less than half the muscles to do the work of all the ones that had died. Nevertheless, after almost a year of therapy, I walked into the doctor's office without the benefit of braces or cane.

The third miracle took place after I was an adult and without me being aware of it until it was over. My parents had kept a secret from me for almost 15 years. It was the doctors, again. Before I was released from the hospital, they told my parents that I had lost too many muscles in my pelvic area to be able to carry a baby full term. I would never be able to have children. My Mother told me about this the morning after I delivered my first daughter.

About ten years later, I learned of post-polio syndrome for the first time. Before I heard about it, God's healing touch had affected me during a time of prayer on the 700 Club. I knew He had healed me with respect to the impact that polio had on me, but I didn't know why. Shortly after that, my sister told me about a report she had heard concerning post-polio syndrome. The Holy Spirit confirmed to me that I had been healed of that.

Post-polio syndrome, as well as the doctors can determine, occurs when the regenerated nerves and the over-used muscles reach a point where they can no longer function as well as previously. The onset of post-polio syndrome is so gradual that it takes the polio survivor by surprise. Usually, it starts twenty years or more after polio leaves.

Post-polio syndrome complicates the normal ageing process. Everyone's muscles weaken as they get older. Polio survivors can experience this in complicated ways. Less than ten years after God healed me of post-polio syndrome, I began to notice deterioration in some of my motor skills. This time, I knew what I was facing. Yet again, God healed me.

Fast forward to 2005, thirty years after the last time God had healed me. Post-polio syndrome hit me with a vengeance. For the first time in my life, I discovered that my diaphragm had been damaged by polio. I would quit breathing when in the deepest part of the sleep cycle. This time, God did not heal me. Instead, His miracle was one of technology, a VPAP breathing machine to assist my breathing at night and a power wheelchair to take the place of my legs.

All this brings me up Sunday, September 7, 2009. For several months, I had been getting less and less oxygen at night. Both my physical strength and my mental acuity were affected. Many of my family and friends were praying for me. Last Sunday morning, our church had a special prayer service before our regular worship time. My pastor prayed for me; my God healed me. Before the prayer was completed, I could breathe normally, filling my lungs completely with air. Also, over the period of about an hour, God washed out all the poisons that had accumulated in my brain from lack of oxygen.

No, all effects of post-polio syndrome are not gone. I still use all the mechanical aids to get through my days. But God has again extended my life for His purpose – that I might be able to fulfill the plan He has for me and bring glory to His Name.

All praise to our sovereign God!

90 Years of God’s Faithfulness

My blog is late this week for a very good reason; we were out of town celebrating my Mother's 90^th birthday.

My sister, Jeanita, and I love Mother and cherish our time here on earth with her, so we wanted to give her a really nice gift for her 90^th birthday. The only thing she asked was to be with her family to celebrate it. So we decided to make it a very special occasion.

We are blessed that Mother is physically and mentally healthy, which makes traveling possible even at age 90. Since Mother's home for many years was the town where my sister still lives, we decided to give the party in DeKalb, Texas instead of New Orleans where she now lives.

Once we began planning, we had volunteers and ideas coming from everywhere. My daughter Julie found a memory tree and suggested that we give one to Mother for the family gift. You can see the tree holding miniature photo frames in the picture. My daughter Melana took care of the cake and the publicity. She also suggested that we make bookmarks for mementos to give our guests. Since my good friend Ve is awesome at making cards and bookmarks, she made them for us. She also came up with the theme for the party: Celebrating 90 Years of God's Faithfulness.

Jeanita and my brother-in-law, Larry, rented the hall and designed the layout and decorating scheme. Another friend and adopted sister, Judy, traveled with Mother and me. She also suggested some of the final decorations and helped with the clean-up. I designed ten posters, one for each decade of Mother's life (plus an extra one). Mother and I found photos from every decade to put on the posters. I also included newsworthy highlights for each decade to bring context to the pictures. Mother and Jeanita made almost 400 cookies.

At the party, friends and family members took videos and snapped photos. Several grandchildren kept the cake, cookies, and punch flowing. Four of Mother's great grandchildren also worked to make our guests feel welcome. Over 50 people celebrated with us.

Before Larry blessed the festivities with prayer, he read a tribute to Mother that another friend and our Bible study leader, Anna, had written. Anna captured Mother's life so beautifully that we wanted to start the celebration by sharing it with our guests. Her tribute is written here.

"Dearest Muriel,
Happy 90^th birthday!!! What a blessing it has been to me to get to know you. I admire your steadfast devotion to our Lord and God and I admire that even though you have lived 90 years, you are still willing to be obedient to what God calls you to do and to continue to change under His loving hand. You have laid down your life over and over again and the result has been that you are such a wonderful example of a woman of God and you are still bearing fruit.

"This scripture has your name written next to it: Psalm 92:12–15: "The righteous will flourish like a palm tree and they will grow like a cedar of Lebanon; planted in the house of the Lord, they will flourish in the courts of our God. They will still bear fruit in old age; they will stay fresh and green, proclaiming 'The Lord is upright. He is my Rock and there is no wickedness in Him.'

"I love you, Muriel, and I appreciate your witness. Anna"

No matter how long I live, I desire to have that testimony, too. May God grant a green and fruit bearing old age to us all.

Passionate for the Glory of God

I have a wonderful sister. We love many of the same things. We both love God and obey Him to the best of our abilities. We both love our families. We both love to worship and to serve in our local churches. We both love to laugh and sing and cook.


While we love many of the same things, our passions are different. My sister is passionate about spending time with her grandchildren. She and my brother-in-law have 5 children and 12 grandchildren. All of their children live in different cities that are within a few hours drive of my sister's home. They travel to watch ball games, drill team performances, plays, concerts, award ceremonies, baptisms, and graduations.

They host the grandchildren in their home over the summer, rotating through the whole clan to spend special time with each child. They plan special holiday celebrations, cook their favorite meals, and remember birthdays with meaningful gifts.

My sister passionately shares her love, her time, her energy and her money with her family. She and my brother-in-law made a conscious decision to give as much of themselves as they could to their grandchildren while they are still children.

My passion does not center around my family, though I love them dearly and rejoice in the time I am able to share with them. My passion is learning the truth in the Bible and writing about what I learn from its pages. I read the Bible, memorize chapters, meditate on passages, talk to God about things I do not understand, think about it - absorb it in every way I can. I spend hours some days digging deeply into one or two verses and sometimes just one or two words. I bought an extensive biblical library, so I compare commentaries, study the meaning of the words in the original languages, look at different Bible translations, pull out maps of biblical lands and read the books of great men and women of God.

At some point the topic that I am studying becomes overwhelming in its beauty and its power. I am compelled by my joy and amazement to share what I have learned with others. For me, that means sitting down at my computer and writing. Because I want what I write to be the best representation of God's truth that I can show, I pray over it, rewrite it, pray some more, edit it, share it with my Bible study partner, edit it again, and finally, when I am satisfied that I can do nothing else, I send it out.

As different as our passions are in activity and focus, both my sister and I have an underlying foundation that is the same; we both want our passions to glorify God. By living their lives of faith and trust in God, modeling that to their grandchildren around them, my sister and brother-in-law nourish them on God's love. They reinforce what the children are learning in their own homes, paving the way for them to find forgiveness and new life in Christ at the proper time.

While my passion seems more straightforward about glorifying God, it is not. If my Bible study was for me to have all knowledge, to make a great name in church circles, to be known as a great teacher, all my knowledge and writing would be strident bells and clanging cymbols to God. Instead, my objective is to make God and His ways known, to clear the path before His children, to honor His Name.

God has made each of us unique. He has created us to be passionate about something. Are you passionate about anything? If you are, does the way you express your passion glorify God? I look forward to reading your comments.